This is a great lesson taught by Darrell Bock at Faith Bible Church. It is worth listening to.

 

 Bock - Jesusanity vs. Christianity [45:18m]: Play Now | Play in Popup | Download (885)

__________________

My summary/high points:

• “Jesusanity is an attempt to have a high view of Jesus without having a unique view of Jesus.”
• Christianity has become so culturally isolated that they don’t know how to engage people about Christ.
• Christians know a lot about what the Bible says, but not much about the Bible (history, canon, text, etc.)
• The current “Jesus Crisis” is the fault of the church not truly educating the its people.
• Being prepared to represent Christ accurately requires study—hard study—and time.
• Christians need to recognize that we only need to get people to acknowledge that the Bible is “basically” true, we don’t need to force inerrancy down their throat. The closer they get to Jesus, the higher their view of the Bible will eventually be. In other words, get the Christology right and the bibliology will take care of itself.
• When Jesus performed miracles, he did not appeal to another authority. This makes his miracles unique.
• Revisionists say that “history is written by the winners.” Bock: Sometimes the winners deserve to win because they were right and this is why they won.
• Your friends and neighbors are watching the history channel, going to Barnes and Noble, and being overwhelmed by a culture that is fascinated with Jesus, but does not believe in the historic Christian Jesus (Jesusanity). We must be prepared to engage their views of Jesus and what they are being taught through these venues.
• Don’t start the Gospel with the debate over evolution and creation. You can get to that later, after you have introduced them to Christ.

Reclaiming the Mind Ministries is in financial need. Please consider a small (or large!) tax-deductable donation. Thanks for visiting!

Join us in reclaiming the mind for Christ. Start The Theology Program in your church.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

I know that the title is provocative, but please understand that I am serious in this question. At this point, I believe that it is very difficult for Roman Catholics who hold to Transubstantiation (is there any other kind of Roman Catholic!) to find harmony with a basic principle in the Definition of Chalcedon. In other words, I believe that Catholics are at odds with some essential elements of orthodox Christology.

Having said that, it may be that I am misunderstanding things (this would not be a first).  So I write this post with the intention of informing my audience of a very intriguing issue, giving them a better look at Chalcedonian Christology, and giving an opportunity to Catholics to give an answer to this issue (if there are any that happen by—and there usually are).

I am going to explain the issue and I want all of you to hang with me through some deep waters. I will try to navigate you to a point where you understand why I believe (tentatively) that Catholics deny Chalcedon because of their view of Mass.

Component #1:

Orthodoxy has historically claimed that Christ is fully God and fully man. This is not an arbitrary pronouncement or belief, but is one that is central to an understanding of the Gospel.

Short history lesson. Continue Reading »

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

I recently decided to follow my own oft given advice and venture out to other churches just to see what the cultural landscape looks like and to stretch myself a bit.

First, I went to an evangelical high Anglican church. I was wanting to see something a little more traditional. Plus, according to the latest news about red wine and health, I needed a shot of the real thing. It was a rewarding experience. It was also interesting to be at a church that was not to concerned about whether I was there or not. There were no greeters at the door, no one really noticed when I came in, and they did not say anything to me as I left. This is not a criticism, but just an observation. They did not let anything take them away from their reverential service in which things were done in a particular order. Because of this, it was not a primary purpose to fill the pews with guests. If a guest came in, great. They could stay and worship, but they were not going to do back flips and moonwalk for anyone but Christ.

Next, I went to a church that was just the opposite. It was a popular non-denominational Evangelical associated church. It was much more alluring in its style, having a much more amplified voice with regards to recognizing newcomers. From the moment we got in the parking lot, there were signs welcoming us along with parking lot attendants waving. These guys were so enthusiastic you would think that they had been trained at Disney World. The signs pointed to valet parking for first time guests. I would have taken them up on the offer, but pride always rules (oh . . . and then there is that awkward feeling that you are supposed to give them some money even when they say they don’t take it). We were greeted by another enthusiastic character, a very nice young man, who led us around. When we told him we were first time visitors, he said “Oh, VIPs?” We then were introduced everywhere we went under this title “VIPs” (Very Important Persons). When others would hear that we were VIPs, they would have a look of excitement mixed with anxiousness. The anxiousness seemed to come from an underlying understanding that their church was focused on bringing in newcomers. Then . . . they led us to the children’s area. Continue Reading »

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

In my last blog, I began a discussion on religious pluralism by first making observations about religious diversity. We mentioned Oprah Winfrey’s claim that there are millions of ways to God. The idea of one way to salvation is considered an arrogant holdover from colonialism. Somehow, Christians, Muslims, and other traditional religionists have failed to grasp the “reasonable” Enlightenment message of a generic natural religion (Deism) that strips away special revelation or savingly unique perspective.

I’m presently reading a fine biography of Thomas Jefferson—Sworn on the Altar of God by Edwin Gaustad—in preparation for visiting Monticello on our family vacation; Jefferson, following David Hume, maintained that experience, not authority, must be our guide regarding religion, and, since our experience witnesses nature as uniform and unchanging, miracles cannot take place. Deism bears some resemblance to the pluralism of John Hick and others pluralists—embracing a more generic deity, rejecting religious particularism/exclusivism, explaining away miracles that support a religion’s uniqueness, and so forth. In the discussion below, I’ll raise some questions regarding religious pluralism in favor of Christ’s uniqueness.

First, religious pluralism eliminates the possibility of specific, historical divine revelation. Religious pluralism seeks to begin from the ground up by observing what goes on in mosques, churches, synagogues, temples, and Sikh gurdwaras. Many pluralists like John Hick believe Jesus was just a God-conscious person who did not rise from the dead. His later followers ascribed divinity to him in much the same way that some of Buddha’s followers did to Buddha. The pluralist, if correct, ultimately undermines the historic Christian faith. Jesus is not allowed to be the Savior of the world; rather, the Christian faith is one of many legitimate ways of finding salvation or liberation.

According to orthodox Christianity, God begins with particular persons and events—Abraham or the Incarnation. He does have the universal in mind, seeking to bless all the families of the earth (Genesis 12:1–3). Like ripples from a stone tossed into a pond, the Christian mission to the world flows from the Incarnation; the gospel offers salvation to all through God’s enabling Spirit. Pluralism, however, leaves us with a property-less, content-less Ultimate Reality. How then do we need to respond to It? Do we need to love It, or pray to It, or just live ethically? Can we know It even exists?

Second, religious pluralism is logically just as exclusivistic as the Christian — or any other faith. The pluralistic-sounding Dalai Lama actually turns out to be quite the exclusivist. He has declared that Tibetan Buddhism is “the highest and complete form of Buddhism”: “Only Buddhists can accomplish” what is necessary for liberation. Likewise, religious pluralism is just as “biased” and “exclusivistic” regarding the status of religious truth-claims. The religious pluralist believes that his view is true and that the exclusivist — whether Christian, Muslim, Buddhist — is wrong in rejecting pluralism. The pluralist believes he has a virtue the Christian or Muslim does not. Pluralism implies that Christians need to abandon belief in Jesus’ deity, atoning death, and resurrection — beliefs that pluralists take to be literally false and simply inspiring metaphors or symbols. Though the Christian faith is a particular exclusivism, religious pluralism is a generic exclusivism: if the pluralist is correct, then the central doctrines of the world’s great religions are false.

While pluralists may appeal to analogies such as roads that lead to the tops of mountains or blind men touching an elephant, we could ask how they know that each religion’s road leads to the top and why those who disagree are wrong. How is it that they have the correct vantage point? Besides, these analogies do not prove a point; they only illustrate it. If Jesus is the only way, we could then change the analogy to one that appropriately supports this point. For example, religions are like a labyrinth or a maze with only one way out. Here Jesus proves to be an advantageous starting point. Jesus claims to reveal God to us and to direct our destiny, which is bound up with our response to Him personally. Indeed, Jesus himself steps into the maze of our miserable human condition and guides us to salvation and grants us hope.

Third, despite its claims, religious pluralism is geographically-limited—which is the very charge made by pluralists against religions like Christianity (“If you were born in Saudi Arabia, you’d be a Muslim”—a view known as the “geography objection”). But even if religious belief is largely shaped by geographical and historical circumstances (statistically speaking), this fact in itself does not guarantee religious pluralism’s truth; this hardly proves the pluralist’s point.

The geography of a belief neither establishes nor neutralizes its truth. While a Marxist, a monarchist, or a conservative Republican would likely have joined the Hitler Youth had he grown up in Nazi Germany, we do not conclude that all political systems are equally legitimate. Independent reasons exist for preferring certain forms of government over others. We could say the same about morality: just because some groups of people grow up holding that cannibalism or terrorism or racism are morally permissible or justifiable, we are right to stick to our guns by rejecting their problematic moral perspective. Our belief in objective moral values and human rights isn’t threatened by the fact that others grow up thinking differently.

The same applies to beliefs about ultimate reality and the human condition: We rightly reject profoundly-incoherent beliefs. We correctly question claims that depend heavily on phony documents or the character of a charismatic, womanizing charlatan who founds a religion — even if his followers are morally decent people. If the Christian faith more readily explains many features of the universe and of the human condition than various Eastern religions (many of which are non-theistic) or secular worldview alternatives, then its greater plausibility should not be trumped by the geographic objection.

Hardly neutral observers of the religious landscape, pluralists who reject Jesus’ bodily resurrection or his remarkable authority claims as historically reliable are taking a gamble. Not only would Jesus’ radical uniqueness completely undermine pluralism, but orthodox Christian tradition is also buttressed by strong historical support. Indeed, the Christian faith is virtually unique among the world religions in that it is rooted in history and thus makes crucial claims are historically verifiable (e.g., Jesus’ death and resurrection).

In addition, we can turn the tables on the pluralist: If he had been born in Madagascar or medieval France, he probably would not have become a pluralist! If all religions are culturally conditioned attempts to get at the Ultimate Reality, then pluralism is just as culturally conditioned as Christians or Hindus are in their beliefs.

How then has the pluralist risen above his cultural conditioning to see things more clearly than the rest of us? Does the religious pluralist think he is just another blind man touching his part of the elephant? No. He takes the view of the onlooker who sees the entire elephant and thinks the blind men are foolish because of their narrow-minded dogmatism. There is nothing wrong with seeing the big picture. (If God has stepped into history and revealed himself savingly in Christ, Christians can justifiably present the big picture.) However, this “colonialist” and “arrogant” perspective is the very one the pluralist was opposing.

Fourth, a religion’s moral fruitfulness is not necessarily the ultimate test of its legitimacy. How do we explain moral atheists who help their neighbors but reject the transcendent and even strongly oppose traditional religion as delusional and full of false promises? What about religions that include ritual human sacrifice or racist beliefs? Are these legitimate, culturally conditioned attempts to arrive at Ultimate Reality? Ironically, pluralists like John Hick and Paul Knitter affirm an impersonal Ultimate Reality (which is also affirmed in many Eastern religions), but how can It be the basis of personal virtues such as kindness and compassion? A personal God—especially the intrinsically-relational triune God—makes better sense of such virtues.

If no observable moral difference exists between adherents of these different religions, then the common pluralistic conclusion — that all the great religions are equally capable of saving — isn’t more obvious than the conclusion that it is *not* the case that all these religions are equally capable of saving. In fact, it is reasonable to conclude that we have no idea whether all religions are or are not equally capable of saving. Being an agnostic, not a pluralist, is the more reasonable position.

Fifth, the Christian’s motivation to live humbly, gratefully, graciously, and self-sacrificially is connected to Jesus’ authority as God’s Son. According to the New Testament, Jesus does not have authority just because we find ourselves agreeing with his moral teaching. Rather, it is Jesus’ unique status as God’s Son that serves as the source and locus of his authority—regardless of whether we happen to agree with his teaching! (Thus we should reject the bumper sticker theology that affirms, “God said it. I believe it. That settles it.” No, God/Jesus said it. That settles it whether I believe it or not!). If Jesus is not the unique Son of God but a mere man, then the Christian’s motivation will lose much of its force. If Jesus is not God incarnate, this undercuts historic Christianity’s claims and seriously undermines our devotion to Christ. This is a pragmatic consideration, yes, but the Christian faith is bound up with historical events such as Jesus’ death and resurrection. If these never occurred, then Paul urges us to consider hedonism since a merely earthly hope in Christ is delusional (1 Corinthians 15:32).

Sixth, if Jesus is God’s Son, this effectively undermines religious pluralism. Despite the points listed above, pluralism could logically still be true. However, if Jesus is God incarnate, then pluralism is false. Jesus was not just another great religious teacher. Consider the following subpoints:

(a) Jesus was different from the founders of other great religions. Jesus made unique claims that no other world religious leader made — to forgive sins, hear prayers, be the Judge of all, be always present with His followers, give rest to one’s soul, have authority over angelic/demonic beings, and receive worship. By contrast, Muhammad would have thought Jesus’ personal claims blasphemous; Buddha was a metaphysical agnostic as was Confucius.

(b) The earliest Christians — fiercely monotheistic Jews — bore witness to an exalted Jesus who shared in the divine identity. The Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4) declares that there is one Lord [Yahweh], but Paul affirmed that the one Lord is Jesus Christ who is Creator of all and the Source of our existence (1 Corinthians 8:6). The first Christians even prayed to Him (Acts 7:59; 1 Corinthians 16:22). One pluralist, Paul Knitter, claims that Jesus’ first followers were speaking *confessionally*, not *ontologically*. That is, they weren’t trying to make absolute statements about reality, but were so in love with Jesus that they used superlatives—like husbands and wives do of each other (“Honey, you’re the greatest!”). However, what we read in the New Testament is serious business; Knitter doesn’t take into account the anti-idolatrous mindset of first-century Judaism: the first followers are calling Jesus creator, praying to him, receiving forgiveness from him. This is more than just language about being in love with Jesus. This is blasphemy if they’re wrong!

Jesus’ first followers believed He shared the divine identity and attributed the honors, titles, actions, and prerogatives of Yahweh to Jesus. The New Testament writers affirmed this without dispute. Such a conviction, buttressed by Jesus’ own resurrection from the dead and post-mortem appearances, vindicated those authoritative claims — that in Him the kingdom of God, the new exodus, and the new creation had come. If there is salvation outside of Christ, then Jesus’ redemptive mission as Israel’s and humanity’s representative was ultimately a misguided failure. And contrary to Jesus’ Gethsemane impressions, the bitter cup could have been removed from Him.

(c) Jesus rose from the dead in confirmation of his claims. In 1 Corinthians 15, Paul was willing to stake the Christian faith entirely on this event: If Christ hasn’t been raised, our faith is futile…we ought to be pitied above all men.

In the end, religious pluralism will not let Jesus be Jesus. If it did, it would undermine itself.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

HT: Vassel of the King

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Previous Post 

Anti-Trinitarians commonly cross-reference John 10:30 and John 17:20-23 to try to prove that Jesus and the Father are only "one in purpose", since, as they point out, we cannot be considered one divine being with each other, yet Jesus prayed that we would be one as they are one. This may be the most common objection to the Trinitarian understanding of John 10:30. Let’s look at it.

Jesus, before he became a human being, existed without beginning as God. This is what John 1:1-2 tells us, for example. When creation began, the Word (Jesus) already existed, and he was God. As God, the Word or Son was one with the Father in a way that no human being is or ever can be. Even some anti-Trinitarians acknowledge this point, at least to some extent. For example, Mormons agree that Jesus Christ is part of the one Godhead, with the Father and the Holy Ghost, and most Mormons agree that we will never be part of that Godhead. So, in this sense at least, the Son is one with the Father in a way that we are not and never will be. I will return to this point shortly.

This eternal Word, the Son, then became a human being, known as Jesus Christ. As a human being, Jesus is now one of us. As a human being, Jesus’ oneness with the Father is a unity that no other human beings naturally have, but that Jesus offers to share with us by grace. This is not the same "oneness" that Jesus had (and still has) as God with the Father, but it has its source in that oneness. In effect, Jesus has two kinds or modes of oneness with the Father: the divine oneness with the Father that he has always had by virtue of being God, and a derived oneness with the Father that he enjoys as a perfect human being. (He can have the derived oneness with the Father only because he already had the divine oneness.) Jesus cannot share his divine oneness with us, but he can share his derived oneness with us. As I will argue below, this derived oneness is in a sense part of the Son’s divine oneness with the Father. It is not an entirely new oneness, but it is possible because the Son, who was already one with the Father, came so that we might experience that aspect of their oneness that creatures can share.

We see these two kinds of oneness in John 10 and John 17. Let’s take each passage one at a time.

I have commented on John 10:30 in context in depth, so I can be brief here. Recall that in John 10, Jesus lays claim to divine titles and functions that are unique to God. He is "the good shepherd" (vv. 11, 14), like "the LORD is my shepherd" in Psalm 23:1. The people of God in Israel, Jesus says, are his sheep, even though the Old Testament says they are God’s sheep (Ps. 100:3). Jesus says that he gives his sheep, his people, eternal life (v. 28); again, this is a prerogative of deity, not something you or I can ever claim to do. Jesus says that no one will be able to snatch his people out of his hand (v. 28 again). This claim by Jesus to give life to whomever he chooses, and that no one can snatch them out of his hand, echoes what the LORD God said in the Old Testament: "See now that I, even I, am he; there is no god besides me. I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal; and no one can deliver from my hand" (Deut. 32:39 NRSV; see also Is. 43:13). I think Mormons would have to agree with this, because they agree that Jesus was Jehovah, the LORD God of the Old Testament. Other anti-Trinitarians will balk at this point, but they can hardly deny that what Jesus is saying here about himself is not something that could be said about any of us. We do not have this sort of power over life and death.

Jesus then says that no one can snatch the sheep out of his Father’s hand, either (v. 29). This statement makes it clear that the imagery of sheep that no one can snatch from his hand is a way of speaking of Christ’s divine power in salvation. It is in this context that Jesus says, “I and the Father are one (John 10:30). Clearly, in this context, Jesus is talking about the unity that he has with the Father in their exercise of divine power in salvation of the sheep. This is not merely being fully in agreement with the Father (one in purpose ). It is a oneness that Jesus has with the Father because he is the LORD Jehovah, truly God, and therefore this is a oneness that Jesus cannot share with us.

Now let’s look at John 17:

"I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me" (John 17:20-23 NRSV).

The first thing to notice here is that Jesus prays that his disciples will be one “so that the world may know†that the Father sent Jesus and that he loves them just as he loved Jesus (v. 23). That means that Jesus is praying for a unity that is at least possible to realize here in our mortality. It obviously won’t do the world any good, as far as showing them that the Father sent Jesus, if we can’t be one in this sense until after we rise from the dead and become exalted in heaven. Jesus must, therefore, be talking about a way that human beings can be united now, while still mortal beings.

The second thing to notice is that the way this unity is expressed is in love (see also vv. 24-26). It is the love of Christians one for another that will convince the world that the Father sent Jesus (see also John 13:34-35). Jesus is obviously not talking about us becoming one with God in the sense of gaining divine powers; he is talking about us loving each other the way the Father and Jesus love each other. That is a "oneness" that Jesus can share with us. Obviously, Jesus and the Father were one in this sense long before Jesus became a human being; it is therefore, in a sense, part of the oneness that Jesus and the Father have always had as God. It is the aspect of the divine oneness that can be shared with those who are not divine.

In conclusion, John 17 does not prove that the Father and Jesus are one only in purpose. John 17 is not even talking about being one in purpose. It is talking about being one in the love that the Father and Jesus have for each other. That love is part of the divine oneness that the Father and Jesus have shared for eternity as God. Insofar as that divine unity is also a unity of divine power and prerogatives, it is a divine oneness that we will never have.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

I have argued in previous installments of this series that in John 10:28-30 Jesus claims to be “one†with the Father in the exercise of the divine prerogative and power of giving eternal life to the people of God and preserving them against any spiritual attack. Christ’s use of the monotheistic statement of YHWH in the Old Testament that he alone is God because no one can snatch them from his hand (Deut. 32:39; see also Is. 43:13), which Christ applies to himself and to the Father, sets us up to understand "I and the Father are one" also as an allusion to the Old Testament’s most famous monotheistic affirmation, the Shema (Deut. 6:4).

Those who deny that Jesus Christ is one God with the Father point to certain elements of the context to show that such an interpretation is mistaken. Immediately before Jesus’ famous statement in John 10:30, he states, "My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all (v. 29 ESV, HCSB, NASB, NET). Jesus says two things here about the Father that anti-Trinitarians often understand as implying that Jesus is not God.

First, Jesus says that the Father gave him his sheep. Why would the Father need to give the Son anything if he possesses it necessarily by virtue of his being God? This kind of question comes up repeatedly with reference to statements throughout the Gospel of John that express the Son’s dependence on the Father. The Son does what he sees the Father doing (5:19-20). The Son cannot do anything on his own, independent of the Father (5:19, 30; 8:28). The Father gives the Son life in himself (5:26) and the authority to judge (5:22, 27) and to give eternal life (17:2). The Son does the works that the Father gave him to do (5:36; 17:4). The Father gives the Son his people, his sheep (6:37, 39; 10:29; 17:2, 6, 9, 24). The Son’s teaching is not his alone but is the Father’s (7:16-17). He does not speak on his own (7:17; 14:10). He speaks what he hears from the Father who sent him (8:26; 15:15), from God (8:40), what the Father instructs him (8:28), commands him (12:49), and gave him (17:8) to say. The Son’s speech is the Father dwelling in him doing his works (14:10). He did not come on his own (8:42). The Father gave his name (17:11, 12) to the Son. He gave him glory (17:22). He also gave him the cup of sacrificial death (18:11). In short, the Son is apparently dependent on the Father for everything he has, says, and does. How, then, can the Son be considered in any way equal to God?

Classically, orthodox Christians have understood these statements to reflect the dependence of the Son on the Father that characterized him in his humiliation”that stage of the Incarnation that extended from his conception to his resurrection. By becoming a human being (John 1:14), the Son humbled himself, taking a position that entailed utter dependence on the Father for everything he had, said, and did. In some sense, the Son had left behind the glory that he had alongside the Father since before creation, a glory to which he was to return following his death and resurrection (John 12:16; 17:5). (Since the risen Christ is still human, orthodox theologians regard the period following his resurrection as a second stage of the Incarnation" the stage of exaltation.) During this first phase of the Incarnation, the Son’s entire modus operandi was to glorify the Father (John 7:18; 12:28; 15:8; 17:4). Jesus therefore credited his miracles as well as his speech to the Father. Thus, even when Jesus performed acts that revealed in some way his divine glory, he did so that the Father might be glorified through and in him (John 1:14; 2:11; 11:4, 40; 13:31-32; 14:13; 17:1).

This explanation is consistent with the fact that these numerous statements in John all appear to refer to the Son’s dependence on the Father during his mortal life on earth. Although the Gospel of John explicitly teaches that the Son existed as a divine person before becoming a human being (John 1:1-3, 10; 8:58; 13:3; 16:28; 17:5), all of the references to the Son’s dependence on the Father are statements by Jesus focused on giving the Father credit for the things Jesus was saying and doing at the time.

This classical Trinitarian interpretation would therefore understand these Johannine passages in much the same way as Christians historically have understood the famous "Christ hymn" in Philippians, which says that although Christ existed in God’s form, he humbled himself as a servant, becoming a man, and dying on the cross, after which God highly exalted him above all creation (Phil. 2:6-11). As the divine Son, Christ was entitled to the recognition, honor, and glorious privilege of God (v. 6), but he humbled himself for the Father’s glory (v. 11). In that state of humiliation, Christ depended on the Father as a servant depends on his master, and was therefore dependent on the Father to exalt him (v. 9).

There is much to commend this line of thinking, and I think it is right, or at least mostly right. Some Trinitarians, however, think that a qualification is in order. They argue that it is a mistake to limit the force of all of these statements in John to the period of Christ’s humiliation. They suggest that the Son’s dependence on the Father in the Incarnation, though perhaps deepened or radicalized by his humiliation as a mortal human, should be understood as in some way revelatory of the eternal relationship of the Son to the Father. The theological maxim that expresses this view is that the economic Trinity reveals the ontological Trinity: how the incarnate Son relates to the Father in space-time reveals something of the relationship between the Son and the Father in eternity. We might put it this way: the fact that the Father sent the Son into the world, rather than the other way around, is not an accident. It is not as though the three persons of the Trinity drew straws to determine who would become a man and die on the cross. There is something appropriate and fitting about the Son coming on behalf of the Father. The very titles "Father" and "Son" indicate an asymmetrical relationship between the two persons, such that it is proper and fitting that the Father sent the Son, that the Son seeks to do the will of the Father, etc., and not the other way around.

I think there is some support for this qualification to the classical view in something that Jesus in the Gospel of John says about the Holy Spirit: "When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you" (John 16:13-14). Here Jesus says that the Holy Spirit "will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears." This statement says about the Holy Spirit exactly what Jesus had earlier stated about himself: "Anyone who resolves to do the will of God will know whether the teaching is from God or whether I am speaking on my own" (John 7:17). "The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own" (John 14:10). "I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father" (John 15:15). Jesus also says that the Holy Spirit will glorify him (that is, glorify Jesus, the Son), rather than the Spirit glorifying himself" just as Jesus came not to glorify himself but to glorify the Father. Yet the Holy Spirit clearly does not become incarnate or otherwise experience a "humiliation" comparable to the Son becoming a human being. Thus, it may well be that the "dependence" language in John is not merely or exclusively a function of the humiliation of Jesus’ coming in the flesh, but more broadly reveals the Son as acting on the Father’s behalf.

The instructive parallel of the Holy Spirit also shows that this dependence language does not imply inferiority of nature. We cannot plausibly understand Jesus to mean that the Holy Spirit remains ignorant of some truth until Jesus imparts it to him, or that the Spirit is inferior to Jesus. Rather, when Jesus says that the Holy Spirit does not speak on his own but speaks what he hears from Jesus, he means that the Holy Spirit’s ministry of revelation will be performed for the purpose of revealing and glorifying the Son. Jesus’ coming into the world as a mortal human being is indeed a special act of humiliation, but it appears that humility is a virtue or moral attribute that characterizes the divine persons of the Trinity. The Son comes to glorify the Father, the Father for his part glorifies the Son, and the Holy Spirit comes to glorify the Son.

The second thing we need to discuss that Jesus says in John 10:29 (according to most scholars) is that the Father is greater than all. (There are textual variants here, and the NRSV adopts the strange reading “What my Father has given me is greater than all else."If this reading turns out to be correct, the statement would be describing the sheep as greater than anything else" an odd statement, but one that clearly could not pose any objection to viewing Christ as God. I will, however, for the sake of argument assume that the majority view is correct here.) Anti-Trinitarians assume that Jesus is including himself in saying that the Father is greater than everyone" that is, that the Father is greater than Jesus. And that may well be. We know that Jesus could make such a statement, since he does so explicitly in John 14:28, "the Father is greater than I." If so, Jesus in both of these passages would be saying that the Father was greater than he was. Does this contradict the idea that he is God? Again, not necessarily, if we understand these statements in the context of the Son’s humiliation in becoming a mortal human being. On the other hand, it is probably not the case that the two statements should be equated in this way.

In John 14, Jesus looks forward to his return to the Father’s presence and to the sending of the Holy Spirit to the disciples, through whom even "greater" things would take place than the miracles Jesus had performed in the ministry of his earthly humiliation (v. 12). This statement clearly does not mean that the disciples would be greater than Jesus or even that they would do greater works than Jesus, because it would in fact be Jesus, through the Holy Spirit he was going to send to them, working within them to do those greater works, bringing glory to the Father and the Son (vv. 13-21). It is in this context of the Son’s exaltation and return to heaven and of the Spirit’s descent to the disciples that Jesus encourages his disciples to rejoice that he was going to the Father, "because the Father is greater than I" (vv. 26-28). Jesus’ ministry was limited by virtue of his living in mortal flesh; he was about to expand his ministry immeasurably by returning to the Father, whose greatness was not limited by the Incarnation, and sending the Spirit. Thus, Jesus affirms the relative greatness of the Father not as a denial of Jesus’ own divine identity but as an expression of his humiliation and radical dependence on the Father in the period leading up to his death.

When we look again at John 10:29, it is evident that Jesus is not denying divine power or identity. Jesus has just affirmed that no one could snatch the sheep from his hand (v. 28), and he now affirms that likewise no one can snatch them from the Father’s hand. In this context Jesus reminds his hearers that of course the Father is greater than everyone. No one can snatch the sheep from the Father’s hand because there is no one greater than the Father who could pull off such a feat. But then Jesus, far from drawing the supposedly obvious conclusion that he was inferior in power to the Father, makes the opposite assertion: "I and the Father are one" (v. 30). In context this can only reasonably mean, at the very least, that Jesus and the Father are perfectly one in their exercise of divine power to preserve the sheep and repel all attacks against them. "The Father is greater than all, so that no one can withstand him" but Jesus is one with the Father, so that no one can withstand him, either. Thus, in context, Jesus in John 10:29 is not saying that the Father was greater in divine power than he, but that the Father’s unparalleled greatness in power is his power, too. Far from disproving Christ’s equality with God, the logic of his argument in this passage strongly proves that he was claiming to be no less than God.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

I now turn to what is without a doubt the most popular interpretation of John 10:30 other than the traditional Trinitarian understanding, namely, the view that Jesus was asserting only that he and the Father were one in purpose. I should state at the outset that everyone agrees that from a New Testament perspective Jesus and the Father are one in purpose. The issue is whether the unity of which John 10:30 speaks is specifically a unity of purpose rather than a unity of divine power, nature, or identity. In other words, the claim to be considered here is whether John 10:30 means nothing more than that Jesus is united in purpose with the Father.

Those who promote the œone in purpose view in order to combat Trinitarian theology can point out that some mainstream Christian scholars have also interpreted John 10:30 in this way. J. H. Bernard, in the older ICC commentary on John, explicitly takes this position: A unity of fellowship, of will, and of purpose between the Father and the Son is a frequent theme in the Fourth Gospel (cf. 5:18,19; 14:9,23 and 17:11,22), and it is tersely and powerfully expressed here; but to press the words so as to make them indicate identity of OUSIA, is to introduce thoughts which were not present to the theologians of the first century (A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to St. John, International Critical Commentaries [Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1928]). Similarly, R. V. G. Tasker, in his commentary on John, says that although the orthodox church fathers cited this verse in support of the doctrine that Christ was of one substance with the Father, the statement seems however mainly to imply that the Father and the Son are united in will and purpose (The Gospel According to St. John, Tyndale New Testament Commentaries [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1960], 136). Other commentators make similar statements.

Anti-Trinitarians often quote John Calvin in support of the same point. However, Calvin really does not agree with the one in purpose view. He writes:

He intended to meet the jeers of the wicked; for they might allege that the power of God did not at all belong to him, so that he could promise to his disciples that it would assuredly protect them. He therefore testifies that his affairs are so closely united to those of the Father, that the Father’s assistance will never be withheld from himself and his sheep. The ancients made a wrong use of this passage to prove that Christ is (homoousios) of the same essence with the Father. For Christ does not argue about the unity of substance, but about the agreement which he has with the Father, so that whatever is done by Christ will be confirmed by the power of his Father (Commentary on the Gospel According to John, trans. William Pringle [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1949; orig. 1847], 416).

Calvin nuances his position here rather finely. On the one hand, he points out that in context Christ is speaking of his unity of power with the Father his claim that the power of God did truly belong to him†so that he could guarantee the eternal salvation of his people despite all manner of spiritual attacks against them. This is, then, for Calvin a oneness of power, not merely a oneness of purpose. The Son’s power to preserve his people is the power of God, not the power of a lesser, weaker creature. On the other hand, Calvin argues that the church fathers went beyond the point of the passage by trying to deduce from it the technical theological concept of homoousios that the Father and the Son are of one essence or being. His point seems to be that the words are one, in and of themselves, are not sufficient to establish that doctrine; such an implication goes beyond the demonstrable meaning of the text.

One may agree with Calvin without abandoning a Trinitarian interpretation of the passage. After all, Calvin was himself a Trinitarian, and his way of reading the passage as a whole is patently Trinitarian: the Father and the Son are distinct persons, yet the Son wields the power of God no less than the Father. Calvin goes on to comment on the reaction of the Jewish opponents of Jesus in John 10:33 as follows:

They argue therefore that Christ is a blasphemer and a sacrilegious person, because, being a mortal man, he lays claim to Divine honor. And this would be a just definition of blasphemy, if Christ were nothing more than a man. They only err in this, that they do not design to contemplate his Divinity, which was conspicuous in his miracles.

Thus, Calvin clearly supports the one in power view, although he cautiously warns against trying to prove too much from the words are one in John 10:30. This is a respectable and thoughtful position. As I explained in Part II, I think the recognition that in verse 28 Christ speaks of himself as God, using the wording of Deuteronomy 32:39, puts the words are one in verse 30 in a somewhat different light, strongly suggesting (at least) an allusion to the Shema in Deuteronomy 6:4. With this additional information regarding the context of John 10:30—which Calvin does not mention or seem to have noticed we are on stronger ground in seeing Jesus’ statement as a claim to be one God with the Father. That is not an explicit or simply direct proof of homoousios, but it is a short step indeed to that implication.

The point may be made in a different way. Calvin clearly understands John 10:30 in its context in the Gospel of John in a Trinitarian way, as speaking of his oneness of divine power with the Father, but is simply being careful not to read off œone substance from the simple word one. Rather, Calvin sees the deity of the Son implicit in the statement given its context. Furthermore, Calvin places the focus or emphasis in John 10:30 on the Son’s divine activity the concrete expression of his deity in our salvation rather than on the metaphysical or ontological definition of the Son’s nature. According to Calvin, Christ was not seeking to explain his nature but to respond to the unbelieving Jews’ attacks against him. Thus, Calvin comments on John 10:36, Christ does not now argue what he is in himself, but what we ought to acknowledge him to be, from his miracles in human flesh. For we can never comprehend his eternal Divinity, unless we embrace him as a Redeemer, so far as the Father hath exhibited him to us.

Some contemporary commentators likewise caution us against reading too much explicitly into the word one or this single sentence on its own, while at the same time arguing that Jesus’ statement in the larger context of the Gospel of John does connote or imply a claim to deity. For example, Andrew Lincoln observes that the force of John 10:30 in its immediate context is that Jesus and the Father are one in securing the safety of the sheep in their care. There may be two agents but their protecting hand is one. This indication of Jesus’ full unity with the Father in his divine work of salvation has further implications for Jesus’ identity, and so later Christians who used this text in Christological debates and formulations about the metaphysical unity of the Father and the Son need not be faulted as totally misguided.†Lincoln points out that such further implications are confirmed by the rest of what the Gospel says about Christ’s relation to God, especially in the Prologue. “Father and Son are united in the work of salvation because they are united in their being (Andrew T. Lincoln, The Gospel According to Saint John, Black’s New Testament Commentaries 4 [Peabody, MA: Hendrickson; New York and London: Continuum, 2005], 306).

D. A. Carson likewise argues that John 10:30 read in the broader context of what the rest of the Gospel says about John including its explicit affirmations that Christ is God (John 1:1, 18; 20:28). As for the immediate context, Carson comments that “the oneness of will and task, in this context, is so transparently a divine will, a divine task (viz. the saving and preserving of men and women for the kingdom) that although the categories are formally functional some deeper union is presupposed (D. A. Carson, The Gospel According to John, Pillar NT Commentary [Leicester, England: Inter-Varsity Press; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991], 394-95).

The point here is this: One can agree that the focus of John 10:30 is practical or even “functional†without ignoring or denying that the statement has ontological implications for our understanding of the person of Christ. I agree with those commentators who argue that the statement has clear implications in context of the deity of Christ even if one does not recognize John 10:30 as an explicit claim to deity. Nor is this way of reading John 10:30 dependent on or original with the orthodox church fathers embroiled in the Arian controversy. Almost a century before the Arian controversy, the biblical scholar Origen of Alexandria had this to say about John 10:30:

Our Savior and Lord in his relation to the Father and God of the universe is not one flesh or one spirit but something higher than flesh and spirit, namely, one God. The appropriate word when human beings are joined to one another is flesh. The appropriate word when a righteous person is joined to Christ is one spirit. But the word when Christ is united to the Father is not flesh or spirit but more honorable than these God. This then is the sense in which we should understand “I and the Father are one” (Origen, Dialogue with Heraclides 3-4, quoted in Joel Elowsky, ed., Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture: John 1-10 [Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2007], 358).

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

In Part I of this series, I summarized three theologically distinct interpretations of John 10:30: that Jesus and the Father are one in person (the usual Oneness Pentecostal view), that they are one in power (the usual Trinitarian view), and that they are one in purpose (a view held by many anti-Trinitarians). I then critiqued the one in person view. In this post, I will present arguments in favor of the Trinitarian view that Jesus is claiming to be one in divine power indeed, one God with the Father.

I have summarized the contextual evidence in Putting Jesus in His Place: The Case for the Deity of Christ (Kregel, 2007), authored with Ed Komoszewski:

In context, Jesus has just claimed to do his works in the name of the Father (v. 25), to be the Shepherd of the sheep (v. 26), to give eternal life to them (v. 27), and to prevent anyone from snatching them out of his hand, just as the Father does (vv. 28-29; cf. Deut. 32:39). He then concludes that in asserting these divine prerogatives, he is claiming, I and the Father are one (John 10:30) (p. 239).

It might help if I elaborate a bit on the argument here. First of all, in the immediate context of John 10:30, Jesus appropriates to himself a divine title (Shepherd ), claims to perform a divine work (namely, giving eternal life), and asserts that he has divine ability to prevent any hostile force from turning any of his people against him. In this short passage, we see three of the five kinds of evidence for the deity of Christ that Ed and I present in our book: the attributes, names, and deeds of God that Jesus shares. (That Jesus receives honors due to God is implicit in Jesus’ description of the sheep as those who believe and follow him, though this may not be as clear as the other elements.) It is the convergence or synergy of these elements applying to Jesus Christ in the same close context that makes such a strong case for regarding this passage as speaking of him as God. For example, although the title shepherd can apply to all sorts of creatures without implying any divinity (literal shepherds, of course, but also Israelite kings and other leaders), its use in this context of attributing to Jesus divine power and divine works carries it outside these more mundane categories of connotation.

What clinches the argument is the fact that Jesus makes these claims using language that clearly takes the words of YHWH, the LORD God, in the Old Testament, and applies them to himself:

"See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god beside me; I kill and I make alive; I wound and I heal; and there is none that can deliver out of my hand" (Deut. 32:39 ESV).

"I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand" (John 10:28-29 ESV).

YHWH says, "make alive"; Jesus says, "I give eternal life." YHWH says, "and there is none that can deliver out of my hand" ; Jesus says, "and no one will snatch them out of my hand . . . and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand." The Hebrew word massil can be translated either "snatch" or "deliver" ; in Deuteronomy 32:39, where YHWH emphasizes that he kills as well as makes alive, the word actually has both meanings. No one can snatch out of God’s hand those whom he chooses to make alive, and no one can deliver out of God’s hand those whom he chooses to kill. In John 10:28-29, Jesus is focusing strictly on his divine power to give life, and so John quotes him using the Greek word harpazein, "to snatch." Thus, a close analysis of the two texts makes it clear that John 10:28-29 uses the wording of Deuteronomy 32:39 to express the claim that Jesus does what God does in preserving those whom he gives eternal life.

A standard strategy used by anti-Trinitarians to escape the force of passages like this one is to claim that it indicates merely that God is able to delegate responsibilities to his trusted, created agent. However, the allusion to Deuteronomy 32:39 precludes this explanation. The whole point of Deuteronomy 32:39 is that YHWH alone is able to kill and give life as he chooses; it is he alone from whose hand no one is able to snatch or deliver. "See now that I, even I, am he, and there is no god beside me." This is an explicit affirmation of monotheism, a rejection of the notion that there is any divine being that can do what YHWH alone does. Indeed, this statement in Deuteronomy 32:39 is one of the most explicit and emphatic assertions of monotheism in the entire Pentateuch (see also Deut. 4:35, 39).

Now Jesus’ statement, "The Father and I are one," comes into a shocking new focus. In verses 28-29 Jesus has just taken one of the most explicitly monotheistic statements from Deuteronomy and applied it to himself, including himself with the Father in its affirmation. Now, in verse 30, Jesus asserts, "I and the Father are one." In light of what Jesus has just said, it is evident that he is here including himself with the Father in another Deuteronomic affirmation of monotheism, the famous Shema: "Hear, O Israel, YHWH is our God, YHWH is one"(Deut. 6:4). As I pointed out in Part I, John quotes Jesus’ statement using the neuter form hen instead of the masculine form heis (which is the form used in the Septuagint translation of Deuteronomy 6:4). In doing so, John wards off the possible misunderstanding that Jesus is claiming to be the same person as the Father. Yet the allusion to the Shema remains: Jesus has just claimed divine status in a deliberate allusion to one of the explicitly monotheistic statements of Deuteronomy, and in this context his assertion that he and the Father are one is clearly another claim that he is to be included in the identity of the God of Jewish monotheism.

Let me review. In John 10:25-30, Jesus claims at once a divine name or title (Shepherd), a divine prerogative or deed (to give eternal life as he chooses), and the divine attribute of the sovereign power to prevent anyone from snatching his people out of his hand. Jesus makes these claims using language taken from one of the most explicitly monotheistic texts of Deuteronomy. His claim to be one with the Father must be understood in this context as a claim to have the same divine name, perform the same divine deed, and possess the same divine power, as God himself. It is a claim that Jesus, the Son, is to be included in the identity of the one Lord God of Israel, while maintaining a personal distinction between himself and the Father.

In the remainder of this series, I will examine objections to this argument, specifically those objections that supposedly establish that Jesus is only claiming to be "one in purpose" with the Father.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Re-posted for Rob Bowman by admin.

One of the many, many New Testament texts that orthodox Christians historically have regarded as testifying to the deity of Jesus Christ is John 10:30, in which Jesus famously says, I and the Father are one (Greek, ego kai ho pater hen esmen). But in what sense does Jesus mean that he and the Father are one? We may identify at least three main views:

One in person: Jesus is the very same person as the Father. This is the view held by Oneness Pentecostals. This view agrees that John 10:30 identifies Jesus as God, and concludes that it also identifies Jesus as the Father.
One in power: Jesus is one in divine nature, essence, or power with the Father yet personally distinct from him. This is the view usually favored by Trinitarians (orthodox Christians).
One in purpose: Jesus is united with the Father in purpose; that is, he is in full agreement with the Father, always acting in line with what the Father wants. This is the explanation typically given by those who deny the deity of Christ, including Unitarians and Jehovah’s Witnesses. It is also the answer that Mormons typically give, although they also usually claim to affirm that Jesus is God.

As you can see, orthodox Christians think the two anti-Trinitarian interpretations both get something right and both miss something. Oneness Pentecostals rightly see John 10:30 as attesting to Christ’s deity, but miss the distinction between Christ and the Father. Other anti-Trinitarians see this distinction between Christ and the Father but not the divine unity of nature, essence, or power that they share.

So, who’s right? I propose to make a case for concluding that the Trinitarian interpretation does justice to the text in context better than the other two interpretations. In this post, I will discuss the Oneness Pentecostal interpretation.

Not One in Person

The least plausible way to understand John 10:30 is that it means that Jesus is the Father. Such an interpretation is clearly wrong, for several reasons.

First, Jesus here differentiates himself from the Father by speaking additively of himself and the Father in the plural (I and the Father, not I am the Father ; we are, esmen, first person plural). This wording is most naturally understood as denoting two persons. If I said, Father and I are named Robert, you would of course understand that even though we both have the same name, we are two different persons. The very semantic structure of saying Father and I denotes two persons. Interpreting it as a circumlocution for I am the Father is highly implausible and exegetically unjustifiable. Likewise, if I were to say, My wife and I are one, you would know that I was not saying that I am my wife, simply because one’s wife is never oneself! You would therefore know that the oneness that characterizes my wife and me whatever it might be is something other than oneness of person.

Second, neither here nor anywhere else in the New Testament does anyone ever actually refer to Jesus as the Father. Had Jesus wanted to say that he was the Father, he certainly could have; but in fact he never said this. The lack of any such statement, taken by itself, is not decisive, but this lack considered in conjunction with the many statements differentiating the two personally is quite decisive.

Third, we have such statements in the immediate context. Jesus refers several times in this passage to the Father in the third person, as someone distinct from himself (in my Father’s name, v. 25; my Father, has given to me, v. 29; the works of my Father, v. 37). In this context, I and the Father is obviously a reference to two distinct persons, the speaker (I ) and someone else (called the Father ).

Fourth, had Jesus wished to affirm that he was the one person of the Father, the appropriate way for John, in reporting this statement, to express this in Greek would have been to use the masculine form of the Greek word for one, heis, rather than the neuter form, hen. We must be careful not to overstate or misstate the point here. It is not true that the masculine heis in any and every context means one person. It is not true that the masculine gender somehow in and of itself conveys singularity of personhood. Typically, the masculine form is used because the noun that the word one modifies happens to be masculine. For example, earlier in the passage Jesus refers to himself as one shepherd (10:16); the Greek text uses the masculine form heis because it modifies the masculine noun poimen (shepherd ).

In verse 30, the word one modifies, or is a further description of, the compound subject I and the Father. The pronoun I (ego) has no gender, but the Father (ho pater) does it is, of course, masculine. The neuter hen in this grammatical context treats these two referents, ego and ho pater, as referring to two distinct persons who share some sort of unity (however profound). The type of unity intended must always be inferred from the context, not from the gender of the word for œone treated independently of the context.

The use of heis, in this context, would have been at least more consistent with an affirmation of identity of person than the neuter hen. Had John written ego kai ho pater heis esmen, such a statement would simply have been confusing, or ambiguous, since I and the Father is still most naturally understood as referring to two persons. But the use of the neuter hen in the same sentence as I and the Father are really shuts the door on the one in person interpretation. It is the way these verbal elements combine their synergy in the formation of the whole statement that precludes such an interpretation, not the use of the neuter hen in isolation or in the abstract.

Thus, a consideration of these four factors combined the wording I and the Father together with the plural verb we are, the utter lack of precedent for identifying Jesus as the Father, the distinction made repeatedly in the immediate context between Jesus and the Father, and the use of the neuter one (hen) lead to the conclusion that Jesus is not here claiming to be the Father.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

Fred Sanders and Klaus Issler have recently edited an important book on the relationship of Jesus to the Father and the Holy Spirit. Jesus in Trinitarian Perspective: An Introductory Christology will be an outstanding follow-up volume for those of you who study the evidence for the deity of Christ that Rob Bowman and I have amassed in Putting Jesus in His Place: The Case for the Deity of Christ. Once you’ve got a solid grasp on the fact of Jesus’ divine identity, you’ll want to spend some time wrestling with how that fact fits into a larger Trinitarian framework. Continue Reading »

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

If you live in the Dallas area or you can be in the Dallas area in late October, you won’t want to miss the Jesus in Prime Time conference. The subject couldn’t be more timely and the lineup of speakers couldn’t be better.

Continue Reading »

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!

In a previous post I put this question forward: Would Christ have died had he not been killed? The question is brought about by our pondering upon Christ’s identification with humanity and humanity’s identification with sin and death. Since Christ did not sin, and death is a result of sin, then wouldn’t it be systematic to believe that Christ would have lived forever in his unresurrected body had He not been 1) killed or 2) relinquished His spirit from His body? Continue Reading »

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!