“The history of Science is the history of bad ideas.”

This is a quote that I heard recently. I think that it is a rather tongue-in-cheek way of expressing our (post)modern culture’s current attitude with respect to the authority of science. During the modern period, science was king. The scientific revolution produced hopes of a Utopian society where virtually all problems would be solved due to human innovation, evolution, and advancement. But during the postmodern period, science has been humbled due to a realization that the process was not as clean as we thought. Human contamination, insufficient data, faulty presuppositions, and religiously and politically motivated studies have tainted our hopes that science is truly king.

Euclid said, “The laws of nature are but the mathematical thoughts of God.” Such is true, but how do we know that we have properly interpreted the “mathematical thoughts of God”? I believe in the authority of nature and many of our (scientific) conclusions about such. Every Christian should. I have written about this in times past. Romans 1 says that creation itself leaves people without an epistemic excuse about God’s reality. This, among many other things, provides a firm biblical foundation for cosmology, biology, physics, and rationality in the Christian life. In this sense, the study of nature is mandated for the Christian.

However, we need to be timid about our conclusions that come from science, knowing the ways that it, like the Bible, can be manipulated. More important for what I am talking about now, we need to realize how dynamic the conclusions of science can be.

I was a fitness trainer through the nineties as well as working in the fields of sports medicine. I was very good at what I did and understood the issues (at least I thought). I focused on weight loss physiology. I wanted to provide people with the best—the most scientifically accurate—routine for weight loss. When it came to losing weight though, I would tell people to engage in a steady-state cardio routine. This is one in which you would keep your heart rate up consistently and moderately for above thirty-minutes. Then about fifteen minutes of resistance training. Without getting into all the details of why, suffice it to say that this was the most accepted scientific method for such goals. When it came to nutrition, I was not faddish at all. I repudiated the fads. I wanted to stick to that which was scientifically verifiable and accepted: the food pyramid. However both have changed since the nineties. Now, in order to lose weight, your cardio must include more of a circuit training where your heart rate gets up into its anaerobic state every so often. This is something that I used to teach against with (scientific) resolve. On top of this, the food pyramid has been turned upside down and subjectivized! Now, I am not saying what I did before did not work…it did. But it was not really right. There is a stability to say that exercise and proper nutrition are essential to weight loss. But I am no longer quite so committed to a particular type of exercise and nutrition. It is not so stable. Some of my theories have been literally turned upside down! That is just one example of the sort of things that can dissolution a person toward so-called scientific conclusions.

Here is a list of some other things that have changed over the years with regard to scientific ideas:

• Maternal impression (the mother’s thoughts can influence the child’s)
• Human cell (simplistic to complex)
• The status of Pluto (no longer a planet)
• Piltdown man (scientific hoax about a “missing link” in evolution)
• The food pyramid (turned upside down)
• Health benefits of alcohol (bad for you one day, good for you the next) Continue Reading »

Theological Avoidance fallacy: n. Thinking theology is impractical for true Christian living.

This is very common in our world. It is also, to some degree, understandable. People are tired of the search for answers and have decided to just enjoy the journey. While it may not be called “emerging” anymore, the mood is still present and represents a large portion of our culture and church.

For these, the search has brought them nothing but confusion and disillusionment. There are so many things that they used to believe—used to passionately believe—that they no longer believe. They are embarrassed about their former commitments. Because of this, the best approach to theological issues is a sort of “soft-agnosticism.” In other words, people are not saying that truth does not exist, they are simply saying that they don’t know what it is and they don’t think you do either.

As a coping mechanism, theology is distanced from “practical” (Christian) living. Orthodoxy (right thinking) is disassociated with orthopraxy (right living).

A few words of advice for those who find themselves here or heading here:

1. There is no way to distance yourself from theology. Even the belief that theology is impractical for Christian living is a theological belief. One would have to assume quite a bit about theology in order to make such an assertion. Agnosticism is a theological stance, and quit a complex one at that. You are a theologian whether you like it or not. The question is can you give sufficient warrant for your beliefs.

2. No one can live rightly without believing rightly. Most fundamentally, people act according to what they believe. As the old saying goes, “you are what  you eat,” a better version of this is, “you are what you believe.” Just because there is the possibility that you could be wrong, this does not justify an apathetic attitude toward theology. I appreciate people’s timidity and I wish that some people had more. We dare not to take the Lord’s name in vain. Silence is often better than speaking. But to harden one’s self into such a philosophy is the most dangerous proposition of all. When our practice is devoid of foundational beliefs, we will be carried about by every wave and current of thought simply ascribing to that which seem the most pragmatic at the time. Today, it is faddish to be apathetic toward theology. But this is not Christian. The Christian worldview is about theology first. It is about who Christ is. It is about what God has done. It is about following a definite person who we can point to and distinguish from others. It is about a definite hope. If you were to take these away, the who? what? why? and where? of our practice is void. Therefore, our practice is void. Continue Reading »

For my Intro students…

As I have been reading and reviewing books and blogs over the years, my approach has changed. This was not an overnight change, but something that just happened the more involved I became in engaging those who were serious about teaching and learning with intellectual honesty and integrity (something that, I am sad to say, does not often characterize Christian leaders and teachers). There are certain characteristics that I have found in people’s teaching that immediately alert me to the realization that I am wasting my time (which I don’t a whole lot of!).

Here are some key issues that tap me on the shoulder and demand my attention be redirected:

• Overstatement
• Unqualified Superlatives
• Non-Contingent Propositions

Hang with me. I will explain.

This is probably not the list you expected. Many of your lists would include clarity, systematic presentation, grammar and spelling, and reference support. Those things are important to me as well (although you may not have noticed from my writing!), but the above list is what I notice most, especially in presentations and arguments that are theological in nature.

Overstatement, unqualified superlatives, and non-contingent propositions, are related and can be thought of as different ways of saying the same thing. In fact, you might say that they all belong in the same semantic domain that we might call “imbalance.” Once I detect imbalance, I usually have a hard time going on. Think of phrases like these: 

“I am absolutely certain that . . .”

“There is not a doubt in my mind . . .”

“The church has always believed . . .”

“Everyone knows that . . .”

“It is perfectly clear . . .”

“No educated person believes . . .”

“Nothing could be further from the truth.”

And the like. Continue Reading »

For my intro students…

I often play this game with my kids that drives them crazy. Sitting in the room, with no one but us, while they are not looking I will slap them on the rear and act like I did not do it. They turn and say, “Daddy! I know you did that.” I say, “I did not.” ”Then who did it?” they respond (thinking they have settled the issue with this one question).  I say, “A guy ran into the front door and slapped them and then ran out.” They look at me like I am crazy. “Look!” I respond to their skepticism, “The door is not locked. It is obvious that someone could have come in since the door is not locked.” Upon further looks of skepticism, I have them go check the door to see if it is locked or not. Once they check and see it is unlocked, I have won the day. I have poked a hole and their certainty and even caused them to confirm it. No longer possessing the indubitably that I have required for their epistemic verification, they now have lost poise in their former confidence. In other words, I tricked them into thinking that one has to be absolutely certain about something before it can be believed.

Ideas about the value of certainty are currently on the theological stage of debate. With the postmodern push toward perpetual skepticism that gives way to necessary compromise and a redefining tolerance, along with many in the church responding by appealing to a fidist approach to the faith (ignore the evidence, just believe), Evangelicals are found scratching their heads, wondering why we are checking the door to see if it is locked.

“You can’t be certain that Christianity is true. Some have said that it borrowed from other ancient religions to get its story.”

“You can’t be certain Christ rose from the grave since his body might have been stolen.”

When a suspicious world says that we cannot be certain about anything because of the alternative possibilities, we find ourselves defending a position drunk with its own form of compromise. When people poke holes in our beliefs with arguments no better than “look, the door is not locked” we find ourselves missing the big picture, attempting to argue about the security of the door.

How did we get here?

The father of the so-called Age of Reason, Rene Descartes, was commissioned by a cardinal in the church to find a way of attaining a level of certainty that went beyond mere probability. With skepticism on the rise, probability was looked at as the ugly step-sister of the indubitability that accompanied absolute certainty. Indubitability equates to infallible knowledge—knowledge that can’t be wrong. Prove without a shadow of a doubt that God exists by mere intuitive resources. That was Descartes commission.

(Let me repeat as this may be a new word to some of you. Indubitability describes the impossibility of being wrong due to an exhaustive and infallible method of inquiry; beyond the possibility of question or doubt.) 

There was celebration at Descartes seeming defeat of the skepticism of his day. His “I think therefore I am” looked as if it provided a bridge to attain the type of certainty to which humans have never been privy.  His methodology, which became known as “the Cartesian method,” was adopted in large part by those in the West. And thus began the Age of Reason, where certainty—indubitable certainty—reined supreme.

Christianity was never bound by any sort of indubitably from a human perspective. We have never been required to check the lock on any door. In fact, no one actually can or does live by such a method in the acquisition of truth.

But alas, we often think we are supposed to. We have turned “the evidence that demands a verdict” into “the evidence that produces indubitably.” At least that is what we are pressured into doing. Continue Reading »

Albert Einstein once said “A little knowledge is a dangerous thing . . . so is a lot.”

I have been in discussions with a gentleman who reads this blog and, occasionally, will take one of my theology courses. The main topic of discussion is the necessity of theological discourse for the average Christian. Whether it be big words, concepts, or ideas, this gentleman does not think such things are necessary for the Christian life. He prefers the simplicity of loving God and leaving the rest to the theologians. His basic argument is that such things can and often do take away from our ability to live the Christian life due to their “side-tracking” nature.

Let me paraphrase a comment he would typically make:

“Whether you are a Calvinist or an Arminian, a traducianist or creationist, believe in soul sleep or intermediate bliss, believe in transubstantiation, consubstantiation, or memorialism, none of these ultimately makes any difference. In fact, these beliefs serve more to bring about sinful divisiveness than anything else.”

This attitude with regard to theology is not uncommon at all. In fact, it seems that it has a lot of truth to it. It would seem that simplicity in our confession and faith would ultimately bring about the most unity and acceptance as well as provide more energy for the things that really matter. Right?

Well, if you are saying that more knowledge is dangerous, I agree. Knowledge can puff up. Knowledge can provide ground for strong opinions, lack of perspective, and, ultimately, division. But if you are saying that because of the dangers of knowledge it is not worth the risk, I disagree.

Let me give you an illustration that I think provides a sufficient parallel to the current issue. Knowledge is a dangerous thing. So is a lot. Knowledge of what? Well, anything. But most specifically, we could apply this to relationships. When we enter into a relationship with someone, we take risks. Relationships involve us becoming vulnerable. When we allow someone to get to know us, there is always the possibility of misunderstanding, rejection, and a sort of Trojan horse pregnability of our heart. The same is true concerning those with whom we enter a relationship. Knowledge about them is dangerous. Not only for them, as they expose themselves, but for us as we put our own ideals about them on the line. In other words, you may know someone from a distance who you have placed on an idealist pedestal. Once an opportunity comes for you to deepen that relationship, closing the blissful distance, you are entering into dangerous territory. Why? Because now you are opening yourself up to coming to know the real person. All masks will soon come off and then you will have to nuance this relationship based upon your more up-to-date and accurate knowledge of the person. This process is certainly reciprocal and it is risky—it is dangerous—for both parties. While new discoveries will certainly bring about joy and depth in the relationship, they can also bring about a great deal of pain and emotional distancing.

When the fear of relational knowledge becomes so great that people guard themselves against all forms of vulnerability, disorders follow: schizoid personality disorder, avoidant personality disorder (AvPD), social anxiety disorder. Here, people become closed and guarded hoping that this will leave their lives protected, safe, and secure.

While people might rationalize their timidity due to the reality of the dangers that are involved when knowledge is attained, this rationalization is misleading. The avoidance of knowledge causes us to neglect a basic need of humanity—relationships.

I fear that this is often the case when people rationalize their avoidance of theology. Theology is simply coming to understand God at a deeper level. Yes, there are risks, just the same as any relationship. There are risks of misunderstandings, changing your ideals, opening yourself up to criticism, and coming to know both the wonderful and, what might be perceived to be, the not so wonderful things about God. There is also the possibility of division and strife as you defend what you believe to be true. But is this really any different than any other relationship? Continue Reading »

It was in my expository preaching course that I learned it. It was driven into my teaching psyche and intended to become a part of my basic presupposed knowledge of ministry. Without it, all your preparation would be in vain. Lacking this, your message will fail to do what God actually intended it to do.

It is the message for a new generation. It is something emergers know and they know that they know it. It is what  I hear on blogs, read in books, and a continued favorite among those who are despondently depressed and shamed when surrounded by “fundamentalists.” It is pridefully stated as if this epiphany is going to miraculously wake a sleeping Evangelical culture of John MacArthur and John Piper groupies.

What is it?

“Belief is no good without practice.” Wake up and smell the manna!

Sounds reasonable doesn’t it. Let’s put it another way.

“Belief is not the end, it is a means to an end. The end is doing not believing.”

In preaching, it goes like this:

“If you don’t have a way in which people can apply the lesson to their lives today, you have not really done anything.”

Another:

“Introduction. Body. Three points of application.”

A friend said it the other day. We visited a church led by a young seeker-friendly preacher. After the lesson he said, “Now I really liked that sermon.” “Why?,” I asked. “Because it has so much application,” he responded. “That is what I need—application.”

The idea here is that belief, in and of itself, is not the end game that God has for us. God primarily wants us to be active in our practice. Good works, being nicer to people, acting out our love, giving to the poor, self-sacrifice, not cheating on tax-returns, avoiding certain web-sites, bringing home flowers to your wife, forgiving your father, protecting the unborn, knowing when to set down the beer, taking your daughter out on a date, remembering to say “I love you” (don’t just suppose they know), and trading your Hummer for a Honda. These are all things I can do today. This is what we need. Right?

emergentos moschos skubula

(Excuse the French). Nice translation: “What a load.” Continue Reading »

The horse and water illustration that follows is taken from Millard Erickson’s book Postmodernizing the Faith. I use this and expland.

How should Christians engage a postmodern, post-Christian, post-evangelical world?

Horse=postmodern
Water=the Gospel
Rope=method of delivery

Question: How do we lead a postmodern horse to water?

Option 1: Deny the horse is really postmodern. No one can be a consistent postmodern. We simply need to convince them of the untenability of their professing worldview and show them how they don’t hold to it in reality.

Option 2: Convert the horse from being postmodern. Create common ground in epistemology (the way we come to know truth), then they will be able to drink the water.

Option 3: Change the rope. Christians need to change the communication method and style for a postmodern audience, being sensitive to the ethos of our culture.

Option 4: Change the water. The water we are calling “Gospel” today may not represent the true Gospel due to traditional folk theology and misinformation. Therefore, the water needs to be “purified.” Continue Reading »

I am a Calvinist, others are Arminian. I believe in a premillenial eschatology, others are amillinial. I am a traducianist with regards to the creation of the soul, others are creationists. I believe in inerrancy, others believe that this is an archaic naive doctrine. There are many points of doctrinal division that I am going to have with people, some of which are much more important than others.

Why doesn’t everyone agree with me? Who is causing this disunity in the body of Christ, them or me? Do these division demonstrate the doctrinal bankruptcy of sola Scriptura? Should we elect of a Pope of Protestantism? Or could it be that God has a purpose in his allowance of disagreements?

There are a few different ways that I could answer this.

1. Others don’t agree with me because they have not studied deep enough (lack of scholarship).
2. Others don’t agree with me because they have not studied broad enough (lack of perspective).
3. Others don’t agree with me because they have not studied long enough (lack of wisdom).
4. Others don’t agree with me because their traditional prejudices have created a learning disability that keeps them from the truth (lack of freedom of thought).
5. Others don’t agree with me because they have sin in their life that is blinding them to the truth (lack of holiness).
6. Others don’t agree with me because we don’t have an infallible authoritative interpreter of Scripture that would bring doctrinal unity?
7. Others don’t agree with me because they are not Christian. If they were, well . . . they would agree with me! (lack of salvation).

Generally speaking, I do not default to these possibilities. Don’t get me wrong, these are all possibilities. It could be that people deny the truth (assuming that my position is such) due to ignorance, lack of perspective or wisdom, traditional bindings, sin, lack of authority, or a presupposition of godlessness. But I think we need to be careful about any negative prejudgments about people motives and the ultimate reasons for disagreements. Continue Reading »

Warning, long post ahead:

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How does one define the emerging church? This is not an easy question to answer. Are you emerging? Maybe you are and you just don’t know it. It is very difficult to define exactly what it means to “emerge.” Sometimes its characteristics sound a lot like what “Evangelical” used to mean. Other times it sounds just like “Liberal.” Often it is hard to distinguish emerging from neo-orthodox or even Eastern Orthodox. Many would just say that emergers are Christian Democrats!

If you compare yourself to a personality to determine whether you are emerging, it is no better. To whom do you choose to compare yourself? Brian McLaren? Doug Pagitt? Dan Kimball? Mark Driscoll?

1. If you go with Brian McLaren, then you may view “emerging” as somewhat of a political revolution.

2. If you go with Doug Pagitt, then you may see emerging” as the hope of God’s redemption through a sort of quasi-universalism.

3. If you go with Dan Kimball, then you see “emerging” as a mission to win the lost with the essential message of the Gospel through kindness and understanding (sounds a bit like evangelicalism).

4. If you go with Mark Driscoll, then you may find it hard to distinguish “emerging” from missional minded reformed evangelicalism.

Maybe its not that simple, but my point is that most of these fellows don’t seem like bed-fellows. In other words, it is hard to find the least common denominator with regards to their emerging distinction. They all call themselves emergers, but I don’t think that Driscoll would be too fond of being identified with Pagitt or McLaren. Kimball and Driscoll maybe, Pagitt and McLaren maybe, but not all of them together. It is hard to find the connection. If all of these guys are emerging, then what does emerging mean? Would the real emerger please stand up? Continue Reading »

Being in ministry—being in theological ministry—the passions run high. You are going to say some wrong things and you are going to have some wrong things said about you. Such is ministry. One needs to develop some thick skin if they seek to surf these waters.

As a consequence of being misunderstood, you get mislabeled. One label that has been recently tapped on my back with red crayon is “minimalist.” What does that mean to be a minimalist?

Minimalist

One who sees Christianity as a system of belief that only recognizes the least common denominator. In other words, let’s just find out what all those who call themselves Christian believe and say that this is true Christianity and then let’s not talk about anything else. Talking about what divides, well . . . divides. And division is bad, bad, and double bad. Therefore, let’s just all get along.

Many of those in Pop Evangelicalism, the Emerging Church, and the Emergent church take this perspective.

From the standpoint of those who call me a minimalist, I represent a branch of Evangelicalism that compromises truth for conciliation in the name of ecclesiastical unity.

Stepping back and looking at this criticism, I can see where it comes from. I understand how people would get this impression. I do tend to encourage people to focus on the things that unite. I do tend to plead with people about the danger of talking past each other. I am even sometimes critical of militant apologetic methods that seem to deepen chasms, hardening others in an apologetic position that only focuses on what they are against, thereby losing perspective. However, I would not classify myself as a minimalist.

Let me introduce some similar terms that will help get a grasp on this issue.

Maximalist

One who seeks unity only with those with whom there is maximal agreement. Any disagreement, no matter how small it is perceived to be, does not take away from its importance. All issues are equal, or at least close to it.

Roman Catholics, some Eastern Orthodox, and Fundamentalists would normally share this perspective.

Centrist

One who seeks unity by finding areas of compromise. Taking the dialectical method, opposing positions are rarely correct, but the truth is found in a compromised center.

Many in the Emergent and liberal Church share this perspective.

Centralist

One who starts with the center of Christianity and believes that it provides the anchor from which all other conversation will find its ground. A centralist is focused on the most important elements of the faith so that the other issues can be seen in light of the perspective it provides.

Most in the Historic Evangelical church, some emergers, and some Eastern Orthodox hold this perspective.

It is in this camp that I can be found roasting marshmallows.

What is the “center” of the faith?

The doctrine of the Scripture? The doctrine of truth? Helping those in need? Social action? No. None of these in my opinion are the center of the faith. The center of our faith is Christ. If you want to say “the doctrine of Christ,” that is good as well. It is the person and work of Christ that is the center of Christianity. “Who do men say that I am?” is the most important theological question there is. If you get this wrong, all else will not only come undone, but it will be meaningless. If you get this right, there is a foundational unifying factor that we must recognize and in light of which all other issue must find their place.

Those who say that Christ is the eternal God-man who died for our sins and rose from the grave have more common ground with each other than they often care to admit.

Here are some differences between the four positions:

Maximalist: Let’s find all denominators.
Minimalist: Let’s find the least common denominator.
Centrist: Let’s create a new denominator that is somewhere in the middle.
Centralist: Let’s find the most important denominator.

Maximalist: We will militantly divide over all issues since all issue are of equal importance. 
Minimalist: Issues that people disagree upon unnecessarily divides, therefore, let’s not discuss disagreements.
Centrist: Let’s all move more toward the middle ground, then we can get along.
Centralist: If we are united around the centrality of Christ, let all other issues find perspective in this agreement.

Maximalist: The truth is in the maximum.
Minimalist: The truth is in the minimal.
Centrist: The truth is in the middle.
Centralist: The truth is in the central.

Maximalist: Approach to Church history: All traditions that do not completely agree with us are anathema.
Minimalist: Approach to Church history: Find the minimal areas of agreement and form a new tradition.
Centrist: Approach to Church history: Use the dialectical method understanding history as a stepping stone to the evolution of truth.
Centralist: Approach to Church history: Find the central areas of agreement and recognize this commonality.

Maximalist: Non-essentials = essentials (there is no such thing)
Minimalist: Non-essentials = non-importance
Centrist: Non-essentials = everything
Centralist: Non-essentials should be put into their relative positions of importance to the degree that they affect the central issues.

I don’t believe in a minimalist or centrist approach to truth. Minimizing Christianity undermines the truth and strangles revelation. Finding middle ground compromises the truth.

Minimizing Christianity to the Glory of God? No. Impossible.

Centralizing Christ to the Glory of God? Absolutely. By definition, when we center on the person and work of Christ, God will be glorified.