If you consider yourself a non-Trinitarian believer in Jesus, do I have a challenge for you!

With the permission and support of Michael Patton, I am proposing a formal debate on this blog on the subject of the doctrine of the Trinity, to be conducted over a six-week period (beginning sometime after the New Year; scheduling is flexible). I am looking for one individual to argue for a position contrary to the Trinitarian position, while I will argue for the Trinitarian view.

Here is how I propose we proceed:

Week #1: My opponent and I would set forth our understanding of the nature of God (his attributes, e.g., omnipotent or not, omnipresent or not, incorporeal or corporeal) to make sure everyone understands what, if any, differences we have on that subject.

Weeks #2 and #3: The two of us would each set forth our understanding of the identity/person of Jesus Christ.

Week #4: The two of us would each set forth our understanding of the identity, status (person or non-person), and/or nature of the Holy Spirit.

Week #5: The two of us would each set forth a case for our position with regard to the Trinity (I would be for it, my opponent against it).

Week #6: Each of us will post one closing statement, with those blog entries open for questions from anyone.

Continue Reading »

In Putting Jesus in His Place: The Case for the Deity of Christ (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 2007), Ed Komoszewski and I argued that one evidence that Jesus is God is that he is properly the object of prayer (John 14:14; Acts 1:24-25; 7:59-60; 9:14; 22:16; Rom. 10:12-13; 1 Cor. 1:2; 16:22; 2 Cor. 12:8-9; Rev. 22:20-21; see pp. 47-53). In previous editions of his book Jehovah’s Witnesses Defended: An Answer to Scholars and Critics (Huntington Beach, CA: Elihu Books, 1998, 2000), Greg Stafford had argued, against this traditional Christian argument, that Jesus is not the proper object of prayer (see especially 2nd ed., pp. 583-86). Ed and I took issue specifically with one of his Stafford’s arguments in support of that standard JW position: Stafford had argued that when Stephen “called upon” Jesus to receive his spirit while he was being stoned to death (Acts 7:59) this was comparable to Paul appealing to Caesar, and therefore not really prayer (585). Ed and I pointed out (Putting Jesus in His Place, 299) that the verb “to call upon” can have a political/legal context (as in Paul appealing to Caesar) or a spiritual/religious context. The latter, not the former, is obviously applicable in the context of Stephen calling on Jesus to receive his spirit. Another writer who had critiqued Stafford’s handling of biblical passages concerning prayer to Jesus was James Stewart, who wrote an online piece examining the textual critical issue of the inclusion of “me” in John 14:14 (“If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it”).

Somewhat surprisingly, in the third edition of Jehovah’s Witnesses Defended Stafford drops his objections to Jesus being properly the object of prayer. Stafford now concedes that Jesus receives, hears, and answers prayer: Continue Reading »

I just received the third edition of Greg Stafford’s book Jehovah’s Witnesses Defended: An Answer to Scholars and Critics (Murietta, CA: Elihu Books, 2009). For those who are not familiar with Stafford, he is an unusually sophisticated Jehovah’s Witness who debated both me and James White earlier in the decade. The first edition of the book, published in 1998, ran 393 pages and was easily the best defense of Jehovah’s Witness theology ever published. (Page lengths cited here include front and back matter.) The second edition in 2000 was 654 pages in length and cemented Stafford’s reputation as the leading apologist for the Jehovah’s Witness religion. This third edition, which Stafford had announced was due out at least a couple of years ago, is 676 pages long.

Stafford’s first chapter, on the name Jehovah, has grown from 54 pages in the second edition to 126 pages in the third. This represents by far the most sizable addition to the book. He has added about 19 pages defending Christ’s real (though temporal) preexistence against the Unitarian position of Anthony Buzzard. Stafford’s already lengthy treatment of John’s “I am” sayings of Jesus now includes a 13-page discussion of the early interpretation of John 8:58. Perhaps of most interest to some is Stafford’s addition of a 50-page chapter that critiques a Reformed view of human will and predestination. Finally, Stafford’s chapter defending the Watchtower’s position on blood transfusions has been replaced with a chapter that, in part, critiques that position. The rest of the chapter urges a more tolerant approach on various issues of morality, notably “sexual orientation” (homosexuality), regarding which Stafford seems, well, ambivalent. In all, there are almost 200 pages of new material.

In order to add all of this new material to the third edition, Stafford has dropped almost as much material from the second edition. Continue Reading »

Tonight I taught a class on the Definition of Chalcedon. This represents the Christian understanding that Christ is 100 percent God and 100 percent man (“very God of very God of very man of very man”).

A discussion that arises every time I teach on this is how are we to explain Christ’ s apparent lapse in memory and mission when he prays in the garden to the Father, “If it is possible, let this cup pass from me . . .” (Matt. 26:39).

What did Christ mean when he said this? Did he really not know whether it was possible or not? He seemed so intent on his purpose to go to the cross before. Did he think that there just might be some loop-hole that would get him out of his suffering?

Not too long before, he rebuked Peter calling him “Satan” for even suggesting that he would not suffer (Matt. 16:23). Then immediately after this, Peter does it again when he cuts the ear of the guard off. Christ says, “Am I not to drink this cup that the Father has given me?” (John 18:11). So Christ’s seeming “prayer of absolution” is bookended by his stern rebuke of others who hope for this very absolution.

Here is the essence of my question. Was Christ sincere about this request or is there something more to it?

My wife has this terrible habit of picking my gray hairs while I am driving. I can see her out of the corner of my eye and I know what she is doing. She is obsessed. The problem is that she only does this on the right side. The lefts side, as a result, is going much grayer than the right.

Anyway, I tell my wife that gray hair is very important to someone in ministry.

I often ask my Trinitarianism students a rather odd series of questions. These questions come during our session on Christology (the study of the person and work of Christ). I have touched on it here and there in this blog. The questions are these:

Did Christ have grey hair?

Is it possible the Christ would have benifited from corrective lenses?

And, getting to the heart of the matter,

Would Christ have died had he not been killed?

These questions are 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 natural 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? Wouldn’t it seem likely (even necessary) that Christ did not have any grey hairs?

I believe the answer is slightly more complicated than it might first appear having implications that reveal our assumptions about our Christology (doctrine of Christ), Anthropology (doctrine of man), Harmartiology (doctrine of sin), Eschatology (doctrine of the end-times), and Teleology (doctrine of ultimate ends or purpose). Now that is quite a claim that needs to be defended.

Let me say this another way so that there are not any misunderstandings. Your answer to these questions, yah or nah, are not the issue and is of minimal importance, but the assumptions that often cause one to say yah or nah are very important, ultimately being a result of your entire systematic theology.

I believe that Christ would have died a natural death had He not been killed. In fact, I believe that Christ got sick, ate, drank, had headaches, used the bathroom, was sunburned from time to time, had blisters on his feet when He walked too far, cried when hurt as a child, and sprained His ankle. In fact, He might have even had some gray hairs and needed to wear corrective lenses (were there such a thing in his day!). Continue Reading »

I. A Reality Check

Here’s a true-false quiz:

1. Mary and Joseph had to travel as quickly as possible to Bethlehem because Mary could have given birth at any moment.
2. The Bethlehem innkeeper was fully booked, and so Mary had to give birth to Jesus in the barn/stall nearby/behind the inn.
3. Initially, this experience must have been frightening and lonely for Mary and Joseph.
4. “The little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.”
5. The angels who appeared to the shepherds had wings.

How’d you do on the quiz? Check your answers below. (Some of these thoughts are taken from a talk I gave on what really happened that first Christmas.)

Marcus Borg, a member of the liberal Jesus Seminar, claims that the Gospels are in serious conflict: Jesus was born “in a stable” in Luke but in a home in Matthew (Marcus Borg [and N.T. Wright], The Meaning of Jesus: Two Visions [San Francisco: HarperSF, 1999], 180). As it turns out, this isn’t really a conflict at all. Contrary to the traditional Christmas story, Jesus was indeed born in a home! Borg’s claim is based on the notable King James Version’s mistranslation of Luke 2:7: “there was no room for them in the inn.” But the KJV rendering goes against Luke’s in(n)tention.

Over the centuries, the Christmas story has been re-cast and romanticized into a kind of Christian “mythology.” But what do the Scriptures really tell us about Jesus’ birth?

1. There would have been no inns in a backwater town like Bethlehem. They would be found along main roads or in cities.

2. The word for inn (katalyma) is the same one as the “guest room (of a private home)” mentioned in Mk. 14:14 and Lk. 22:11—the room where the last supper was eaten.

Mark 14:13-15: “Go into the city, and a man will meet you carrying a pitcher of water; follow him; and wherever he enters, say to the owner of the house, ‘The Teacher says, “Where is My *guest room* [katalyma] in which I may eat the Passover with My disciples?”’ And he himself will show you a large upper room furnished and ready; prepare for us there.” Continue Reading »

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

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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.

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 »

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 »

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.