logos redux

Years ago I spoke with Ecuadorian evangelical theologian and author René Padilla about these stories of growth. He said, “Ah, Guillermo, we must ask our church-growth friends two questions: What is church? What is growth?” In other words, mere numerical growth is not sufficient to measure the biblical chruch. Latin American church growth fascinates the number-hunters of North America who see size as the prime measure of growth. Some emphasize the need only for homogenous churches, but the reality of Latin America is that sociological and anthropological categories cannot become our guidelines. Many churches are large, but they are perhaps obese, not healthy. As one church leader told me this year, “We have more births than midwives in our country.”

Calvin on Psalm Singing:

The psalms could incite us to raise our hearts to God and to move us with such ardor that we exalt through praises the glory of his name . . . . And truly, we know through experience that song has great force and vigor to move and enflame hearts to invoke and to praise God with a more lively and ardent zeal.

And a description of worship under Calvin’s leadership:

Finally, after these acts of adoration, these prayers said kneeling, this quickening instruction, the worship culminates in the supreme ceremony of holy communion. Calvin has been very greatly misunderstood. For him the complete act of Christian worship is that at which the Lord’s Supper is celebrated, and the complete Sunday morning office is that which includes the celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Have men said that this worship, the true Calvinian cult, was in its nature poor and cold? Those who were present at it have told us that often they could not keep back tears of emotion and joy. Singings and prayers, adoration and edification, confession and forgiveness of sins, acts ritualistic and spontaneous—all the essential elements of worship were there; and what is not less important, they were combined into an organism that though very simple, was yet both supple and strong.

The title of this book is alarming, certainly by design. But the subtitle is even more so. Does it mean that the whole American church (all traditions, denominations, locations) is committed to an “alternative Gospel?” Or is it that, though part of the American church upholds the true, biblical gospel, there is within that church a movement (evidently a significant movement) to the contrary?

We should keep in mind that such language makes the most serious indictments. To be Christless is to be doomed to Hell (John 3:36). And if someone preaches an “alternative gospel,” contrary to the gospel preached by the apostle Paul, he is to be accursed (Gal. 1:8-9). People who preach “another gospel” are not Christian friends who happen to disagree with us on this or that matter. Rather, they have betrayed Christ himself. The whole church ought to rise up against such persons and declare that they are not part of the body of Christ and that they have no part in the blessings of salvation. Indeed, if they do not repent, they have no future except eternal punishment.

In my view, many Christians (especially those in the conservative Reformed tradition that Horton and I both inhabit) use this sort of language far too loosely, even flippantly. It is time we learned that when we criticize someone for preaching “another gospel” we are doing nothing less than cursing him, damning him to Hell.

But Horton actually indicates to his readers that these charges are not to be taken seriously. So Horton backs away from the serious language of his title:

“Before I launch this protest, I should carefully state up front what I am not saying. First, I acknowledge that there are many churches, pastors, missionaries, evangelists, and distinguished Christian laypeople around the world, proclaiming Christ and fulfilling their vocations with integrity. (20)”

So evidently “Christless Christianity” is not the gospel of the American church. Many of its members are assuredly not Christless. Further,

“Second, I am not arguing in this book that we have arrived at Christless Christianity but that we are well on our way. (20)”

Whew! Evidently Christless Christianity is not yet the gospel of the American church, though we are on our way to adopting it.

This is something of a “bait and switch.” Horton scares us to death with his brash title, telling us that we are headed for Hell. But then he backtracks, says he didn’t really mean it.

Since Horton spends a great part of this book telling us that we have lost seriousness about the issues of God’s law and gospel, we should hold him also to a high standard of seriousness. To say that we are under God’s curse, and then to turn around and say, “well, not really,” is not to meet such a standard. We might conclude that Horton is not joking here about holy things, but he is “well on his way.”

Further, in the same way that the church has wrestled with its understanding of Christ and the Scripture through creeds, commentaries, systematic theologies, and the like, so also the church has developed ways to do its worship. These include structural forms, written prayers, hymns, rules for preaching, the church year, the lectionary, and numerous symbolic ceremonies. Interestingly, in the early church these resources were being developed at the same time that creedal statements were coming into being. Yet, we evangelicals who affirm the Nicene and Chalcedon creeds and boast that we remain faithful to their intent are profoundly neglectful of the liturgical forms and theological perception of worship shaped by some of the same Church Fathers. Specifically we need to recognize that those who have gone before us, those who have wrestled the meaning and interpretation of the faith in creeds and liturgy, were women and men of faith. To accept the creeds, on the one hand, and reject the liturgies by inattention that often expresses itself in disdain, on the other, is contradictory and unwise. For orthodoxy was primarily given shape in the liturgy, and the creeds were originally part of the larger liturgical witness. We recognize that the early church was unusually gifted with the spiritual leadership of Justin, Irenaeus, Tertullian, Athanasius, John Chrysostom, and Augustine. Yet we neglect to study the worship of the church which reflects their faithfulness to Christ and the orthodox tradition.

Robert Webber, “An Evangelical and Catholic Methodology”

“It seems to me all things became grist for the movement’s mill…And if things or people got in the way, they were to be blasted…We threw everything which came to hand…But we could have remembered that, wrong though they were, [those with whom we clashed] were brothers in Christ…But ‘the movement’ rolls on, and now differences arise between us. Quickly the pattern repeats itself; the habit is too well learned. The movement is in jeopardy! So everything is thrown again [at one another, as in battle]…And who is wounded? We are and our Lord…

I am sure ’separation’ is correct, but it is only one principle. There are others to be kept as well. The command to love should mean something…”

Francis Schaeffer, letter to “Jeffrey,” 8 November 1951

Andrew Purves, Pastoral Theology in the Classical Tradition is a helpful volume that successfully demonstrates that across the vicissitudes of history and the developing landscape of Christian theology from the early church on there has been a consistent, if contextually varied tradition of concerns and loci in pastoral theology. What I found most helpful about the book was its practical emphasis. Purves is concerned first and foremost not with academic questions about manuscripts or the theological minutiae of historical debates, but with the broad contours of the thinking and teaching of such leading lights as Gregory of Nazianzus and Martin Bucer on the calling and vocation of the Christian minister. Further, Purves has a zeal to translate that which seems historically distant or idiosyncratic into modern categories for the sake of training better ministers to serve Christ’s Church. Continue Reading…

Many of you may know that my wife and I are going with a group from our church, Providence Reformed Presbyterian, to plant a new church in Carondelet, which is one of the older neighborhoods in the South of St. Louis City. Well, here is the building that we have just gotten confirmation we will be worshiping in. A 150-year-old Lutheran (LCMS) congregation has been extremely gracious to us and is sharing this sanctuary with us along with a parish building next to it. Please pray for our core group (we have 67 as of right now) as we prepare to move into this new location and begin worshiping and ministering as Resurrection Presbyterian Church.

The early Eucharist was a time of rejoicing in the risen Christ, and was experienced as a communion both with Christ in the foretaste of the messianic banquet, and with one another. The celebration of the Eucharist today should express this same rejoicing. Instead, it continues to be the most private and individualistic event in the worship of many congregations of the Reformed tradition. The Eucharist should carry the praise of a celebration of resurrection glory, with the music being more closely related to wedding music than to funeral music. After all, this banquet is a foretaste of the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. Too often it focuses on Good Friday and is funereal. As one of our people has said, many worship leaders, even musicians, though they use the words of the new liturgies, can find ways to make the most celebrative of liturgies another “funeral for Jesus.”

And, all the Reformed denominations have either already moved to, or are considering moving to, the communing of all baptized persons, even the youngest of children, “right upon their baptism,” as stated in the Hussite church of the fifteenth century (see endnote 3), thus returning to the early church pattern, a pattern never dropped by the Eastern Orthodox Churches.

Recapturing the Liturgical Essence of the Reformed Tradition

How I wish that last quote were true in the conservative branches.

“The appeal to justice as a way of cutting the ethical knot in favour of including active homosexuals in Christian ministry simply begs the question. Nobody has a right to be ordained: it is always a gift of sheer and unmerited grace. The appeal also seriously misrepresents the notion of justice itself, not just in the Christian tradition of Augustine, Aquinas and others, but in the wider philosophical discussion from Aristotle to John Rawls. Justice never means ‘treating everybody the same way’, but ‘treating people appropriately’, which involves making distinctions between different people and situations. Justice has never meant ‘the right to give active expression to any and every sexual desire’.”

N.T. Wright, “The Americans Know This Will End in Schism“