2015-03-22T16:18:29-05:00

Celtic Cross Crop2 (2)Christianity is a religion founded on hope precisely because it is founded in God and his work in the world through Jesus, the Messiah of God. The resurrection is the clearest example of this hope, but it is far from the only example in scripture. John Polkinghorne outlines New Testament insights into Christian hope and the theological foundation of this hope in chapters seven and eight of his book The God of Hope and the End of the World.

First – relevant New Testament passages. Jesus leaves no doubt about the reality of the final resurrection or of the continued existence of the people of God. As an example, consider the reply to the Sadducees reported in Mark 12.

Now about the dead rising—have you not read in the Book of Moses, in the account of the burning bush, how God said to him, ‘I am the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob’? He is not the God of the dead, but of the living. You are badly mistaken!”

This hope permeates Paul’s writing as well. From 1 Thessalonians, thought by most to be the earliest of the letters contained in the New Testament, to Romans, which (excepting the pastoral) is thought to be his last. His thinking developed over this time, from an expectation of imminent consummation to a realization that this would be a rather longer period of time, but his hope in resurrection never faltered. Polkinghorne summarizes from Romans:

The rest of the New Testament testifies to the belief that in the risen Christ the believer has been given a new and enduring life. ‘Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the father, so too we might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.’ (Romans 6:4-5). Once again, it is trust in the faithfulness of God that is the ground of this hope. … It is the Spirit already at work within us who is the testimony to life beyond the grave. ‘If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Jesus from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit who dwells in you’ (Romans 8:11). Schwöbel comments that ‘it is the Spirit of God who bridges the eschatological tension between the already and not yet’. (p. 83-84)

Hope permeates as well the Gospel of John, the letters of John and Peter, and Revelation.  The tension between already and not yet is, Polkinghorne says a little further on, “an intrinsic component of our eschatological thinking.” (p. 89)  Throughout the New Testament Jesus is both the One who has come and the One who is to come.

Next – Theological Foundations of Hope. Polkinghorne quotes Jürgen Moltmann:  ‘From first to last, and not merely in the epilogue, Christianity is eschatology, is hope, forward looking and forward moving, and therefore also revolutionary and transforming the present.’ (p. 93 quoting from Moltmann’s Theology of Hope)  Hope is invested in the future, but it is not a cheap hope that fails to take note of the reality of the ups and downs of history. Atrocities persist, past, present, and presumably future. What is the ground of true hope?

There is only one possible source: the eternal faithfulness of the God who is Creator and Redeemer of history. Here Christianity relies heavily on its Jewish roots.  It is only God who can bring new life and raise the dead, whose Spirit breathes life into dry bones and makes them live (Ezekiel 37:9-10). Hope lies in divine chesed, God’s steadfast love. (p. 95)

An impersonal creator or divine cause is insufficient to the task.

To sustain true hope it must be possible to speak of a God who is powerful and active, not simply holding creation in being, but also interacting with its history, the one who ‘gives life to the dead and calls into existence the things that do not exist’ (Romans 4:17). This same God must be the one whose loving concern for individual creatures is such that the divine power will be brought into play to bring about these creatures’ everlasting good. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is just such a God. (p. 95)

Forgiveness is a part of our hope for the future, a forgiveness that is true today and leads to the future. But this is a forgiveness in which we must participate. The receiving and giving of forgiveness are linked  and mutually necessary. Matthew 6:14-15, Matthew 18:35, and James 2:13 cannot be brushed aside.

The reality of resurrection in the New Testament is theologically necessary for Christian hope. Progressive Christian views that relegate Christian hope to “the attainment of a life lived with God now and not in some future state of blessedness beyond death” are insufficient to the task. Such a view is void of any genuine hope for one whose life is cut tragically short by accident, violence, or disease. It is devoid of genuine hope for the one who suffers even to death for the gospel of Christ. Yes we should work today to right the wrongs of the world. But this is not ultimately where our hope lies. Polkinghorne sums up: “We shall all die with unfinished business and incompleteness in our lives. There must be more to hope for.” (p. 99)

Christian hope is in a physical and individual resurrection. We will not be preserved simply in the eternal memory of God, a view I first came across in John Haught’s book Making Sense of Evolution. Polkinghorne responds to this idea noting that a memory is a static thing and thus devoid of any real hope because it removes the reality of the individual and of redemption from the picture. In contrast:  “actual eschatological fulfillment demands for each of us a completion that can be attained only if we have a continuing and developing personal relationship with God post mortem.” (p. 100) A true hope must include future development and growth.

Finally, we embrace the true hope for future in the sacraments of baptism, buried and raised with Christ (Romans 6),  and the bread and wine … ‘For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.’ (1 Cor. 11:26)  We embrace in the true hope for the future the conviction that nothing good will be lost and that our strivings today will bear everlasting fruit.

God is the God of hope because God is the God of the past, present and future. The risen Christ is the one who is ‘the first and the last, and the living one. I was dead, and I see, I am alive for ever, and I have the keys of Death and Death’s Domain’ (Revelation 1:17-18). Those who embrace hope place themselves in the hands of the Lord of the open future. To do so is an act of total commitment to the One who is faithful. (p. 101-102)

A worthy meditation leading into Palm Sunday, Holy Week and Easter.

Is Christianity a religion founded on hope?

How should this hope inform our actions today?

If you wish to contact me, you may do so at rjs4mail[at]att.net.

If interested you can subscribe to a full text feed of my posts at Musings on Science and Theology.

2015-03-24T05:06:08-05:00

By Geoff Holsclaw, pastor at Life on the Vine and colleague at Northern Seminary.

Does the Trinity really matter to our regular lives?  And with this supposed “trinitarian revival” of the last 75 years, what are the options? Have things really changed? Or is it all useless?

Well, Zondervan’s Two views on the Doctrine of the Trinity brings together two examples of a “classical” understanding and two examples of a “relational” understanding of the Trinity into conversation, and we’re going to spend sometime looking at them.

Stephen R. Holmes and Paul D. Molnar offer “classical” perspectives and Thomas H. McCall and Paul S. Fiddes talk about a “relational” perspective, which seems to be a chastened, evangelical version of the “social Trinity” as espoused by Moltmann, Boff, Lacugna, and others.

Stephen Holmes opens up volume with a strong, clear, and accessible essay, even though at the end he says the Trinity is useless (I’ll let you know exactly what he means at the end).  This will be the longest post because I want to use Holmes to set up the conversation around which the other authors are engaged.

War of Words

Holmes begins by reminding us that words are slippery little things, often meaning different things in different contexts, especially different historical contexts.  After the Enlightenment the word “person” is a psychologically rich word indicating an individual center of will, reasons, creativity, and imagination.  But Holmes reminds us that this psychologically expansive understanding of “person” was not what the ancient church understood by the term when applied to the persons of the Trinity (instead, hypostasis indicated a particular or individual mode of existence within the Godhead).

Holmes brings this up put us on guard against an over hasty connect from what was a technical term of theology to our existential yearning for relationship with a personal God (and yes, Holmes affirms that God is personal, so don’t worry).

War of World (or Not)

Holmes also attempts to clear the air about the so-called split between an Eastern (relational) and Western (ontological) orientation toward the Trinity (and this is key).   The engrained idea is that the Eastern church fathers (Cappadocians) had a “good” perspective on the Trinity because they began with a plurality of persons (Father, Son, Spirit) and only then attempted to think the unity of God.  But the Western church fathers (see Augustine, the supposed father of all modern theological ills) began with the unity of God’s being and then only thought about the plurality of persons at the end.

This  “split” has been repeated for over a 100 years by “systematic” theologians, even though most historian have abandoned it (for the brave, Holmes rightfully points to Lewis Ayres Nicaea and its Legacy: An Approach to Fourth-Century Trinitarian Theology).  Historians have shown the significal cultural, linguistic, and theological congruencies that existed between East and West such that this split is more of modern creation than an ancient reality (I’d be happy to deepen this in the comments if asked).

Why has this “East/West split” persisted?  Usually because 20th-century systematic theologians have a “story” to tell and the historical facts don’t always fit into that story.  As in biblical interpretation so too in historical narration, beware the theologian with an agenda.

Holmes clears air in these two ways because he wants us to be able to see and hear what the classical doctrine of the Trinity was really trying to express.  But first he speaks of the origins of the doctrine.

Origins of the Trinity?

Before looking at proof texts for the Trinity, Holmes suggest that we first remember the dogged commitment to “Oneness” that we find in the Old Testament, the commitment to monotheism.  We must remember that the history of God’s relationship to Israel consisted in God’s own uniqueness and Israel’s relationship to this God alone.  Before “monotheism” is a philosophical category or an apologetic argument, we must remember that it was first supposed to be a lived loyalty between God and Israel.  So the oneness of God is not a Greek philosophical fixation, but a Hebrew commitment of the highest order.

But then comes Jesus, and the church’s immediate and spontaneous worship of him, worship that traditionally had been reserved only for God.  How can they worship Jesus without violating monotheism?  Well this is a great question (and if you want details read anything by Larry Hurtado).  The doctrine of the Trinity comes out of these existential and practical commitments of the early church (and don’t forget about the baptismal formulas).

As Holmes says, “The doctrine of the Trinity is a set of conceptual distinctions and definitions that offer a theological account of the divine life that made sense of these primitive practices of worship.  At the risk of oversimplifying, the church always knew how to speak to God.  Yet it took four centuries or so to work out how to speak about God in ways that were compatible with this” (33).

What is The Doctrine of the Trinity?

Holmes claims that the doctrine of the Trinity is a conceptual framework through which we read Scripture and other doctrine.  In a sense, it is the interpretive lens which makes everything else clear, and with out which we would not be able to properly understand Christian experience or Christian revelation.

As a conceptual framework, the doctrine of the Trinity is not itself an ontological statement (a statement about the “being” of God). As Holmes say, “We can know that God is, but not what God is” (35, emphasis added) because the doctrine of the Trinity states that God is three persons, but not how or in what way God is three.  The early church did not claim to know (and often claimed it did not know) the “what-ness” (essence/nature) of God, but that it did proclaim the “that-ness” (existence) of God.

The “classical” statement of the Trinity (often disparaged as relying on a Greek metaphysical framework) is less philosophically interested in claiming to know what God is and more concerned on how our language often fails us.  The doctrine guards us from saying too much. 

But what does it say?

For Holmes, the “classical” understanding of the Trinity comes down to the 1) simplicity of God, and  the 2) relations within God.

Why is God simple?  The basic idea is that God is not assembled of smaller part into a larger composite.  If something is assembled this implies the agent who assembles, which would therefore be greater than God.  But if there is none greater than God, God must be simple (or incomposite).  Again, this is not a claim of knowledge (that we know what God is like in God’s simplicity), but a claim about the things we know, i.e. that God is not like anything else we can know about because God is absolutely simple, not composed of parts, not beginning in time, not assignable to a general class (practically this means that God’s attributes are all interlinking and in a sense “coterminous” such that God’s wrath is not opposed to his mercy, nor justice opposed to his love, etc).  Basically, divine simplicity is just an explication of divine unity, without any more robust philosophical commitments/ontologies involved.

Why does God have “relations”? The idea as Holmes explains it is that when it comes to the Trinity, heresies stumbles over two problems concern the nature or substance of something.  For the typical ancient mindset, a nature possessed a quality either “substantially” or “accidentally”.  When thinking about the Trinity if divine nature were a “substantial” quality that the something called the “Father” had, and a substantial quality that something else called the “Son” had, then “Father and Son are different in substance, and so they are not one God” but two gods (37).  If “Father” and “Son” are accidental quality of divine nature then God is composed of parts (is not simple) and therefore is not really the God of the Old and New Testaments.  So what is to be done?

Well, basically the early church invented another ontological category (not so behold to Greek metaphysics now is it?) call “relation”.  The Father and the Son are of the same divine nature (whatever that might be), but the Father is “the Father of the Son” and the Son is “the Son of the Father” in a way this is not reversible (for it would be false to say the Son is “the Father of the Son” and the Father is “the Son of the Father”).  These relations are the only “differences” within “unity”.

But Holmes is quick to remind that this is a logical category and that just as “person” should not trigger related ideas of “personal”, so too “relation” should not make us think of “relational” because then we would be tempted to say more about the “what-ness” of divine essence than we should.

The Trinity is Useless

Much more could be said about Holmes proposal, but we should cut if off there.  Holmes ends with the claim that, properly speaking, the doctrine of the Trinity is useless, that we should not attempt to put it to use in the world of our experience or draw practical lessons from it for the world.  Why?  Because something that is put to use is being used for a more ultimate purpose, or a higher goal or later end.  But there is no end that is higher or later than God.  Because God is the last end, or end-less, the Trinity is likewise useless, because it is that end toward which all other uses are directed.

“For us to see the beauty of the divine life and to respond with awestruck worship is not something that serves another, higher, end, not something of use.  Instead, it is, simply and bluntly, what we were made for” (48).

Geoff Holsclaw is Affiliate Professor of Theology at Northern Seminary, and Director of their new Masters in Theology and Mission.  You can also follow Geoff on Twitter and Facebook.

2015-03-20T06:26:04-05:00

Thomas McKenzie is the founding pastor of Church of the Redeemer in Nashville, Tennessee.  His book, The Anglican Way: a Guidebook  framed the following interview.  More information about McKenzie can be found at www.thomasmckenzie.com.

The interview was conducted by David George Moore.  Dave blogs at www.twocities.org.

Moore: What were the motivating factors which led you to write this book?

McKenzie: I wrote this book because it didn’t exist, and I needed it to. Most of the people I encounter in my church work know very little about following Jesus as an Anglican. I’ve spent thousands of hours addressing their questions about Anglicanism. It seemed that there had to be a single, easy source that I could refer people to. Unfortunately, there wasn’t. So, I wrote one for them.

I also wrote this book to help influence our movement. I want to make sure that this fast-growing and dynamic group of churches stays centered—that we keep “the main thing the main thing.” That’s why my book keeps bringing people back to the Gospel. Being more Anglican shouldn’t be our goal. Our goal should be to make disciples of Jesus Christ.

Moore: Henry VIII is a well-known, but not well-liked figure.  How do you address folks who cringe over such a shady character “starting a new denomination?”

McKenzie: Henry VIII is completely cringe-worthy; and, I have a two-fold answer to that question. First, I disagree with the idea that Henry VIII started our denomination. For about 1500 years, the Anglican Church was simply the Church in England (the word “Anglican”is an adjective meaning “of  England”). That Church was founded by untold thousands of saints over many centuries.

Henry VIII wasn’t the first ruler to assert that the Pope was not the head of the English church. Both Charlemagne and the Magna Carta claimed that. Henry wasn’t able to complete the break, as his daughter and successor Mary quite possibly would have brought England back under papal authority, had she lived long enough. I would say that the true founders of the modern Anglican Church were Thomas Cranmer (theologically) and Queen Elizabeth I (institutionally). None of that is to say that Henry VIII wasn’t important, he was. But he didn’t start the English Church.

My second answer is that all denominations are founded by sinners. Henry VIII was not a good person, and many of his actions were truly despicable. However, God used him as part of our story. God sometimes uses evil people to accomplish his purposes. The Lord used Satan to ensure the crucifixion of Jesus (when the devil entered into Judas Iscariot), and that sacrifice saved the world. It shouldn’t be any great surprise that God would use a sinful man like Henry to assist his Church.

Moore: The word episcopal comes into the American lexicon after the American Revolution.  You are an American, but you call yourself an Anglican. How come?

McKenzie: That is a long and unhappy story, which I’ll keep short. The Anglican Communion is the largest Protestant communion of churches in the world. It is comprised of independent provinces with no central authority. There is a “first among equals,”the Archbishop of Canterbury, but he has no control outside of his own province.

The Episcopal Church in the United States (TEC) is a province of the Anglican Communion. Over the past several decades, TEC made a series of pastoral and theological decisions which have alienated them from many other provinces of the Anglican Communion. In 2009, archbishops who represent the vast majority of Anglicans on earth decided that a new province needed to be formed in North America.  That is why the Anglican Church in North America (ACNA) came into existence.

The ACNA is recognized by some Anglican provinces, but is not recognized by the Archbishop of Canterbury. Regardless of its current status, the ACNA is far more faithful to historic Anglican Christianity than is the Episcopal Church. While there are many faithful Episcopalians, in 2004 I came to the conclusion that I could not be both an Anglican Christian and an Episcopalian. So I joined a mission from Rwanda, which ultimately became part of the ACNA. I am happy to be a follower of Jesus within historic Anglicanism.

Moore: In your book you make clear that baptism does not save.  Each person must confess Christ.  What do Anglicans believe about those who got baptized but never confessed Christ?  Conversely, what do Anglicans believe about those who never got baptized, but clearly confess Christ?

McKenzie: Since there are about 80 million people on earth who use the word “Anglican” for themselves, in one sense it’s impossible to definitively say what Anglicans believe about anything. But, if you mean what does the Church traditionally say on the subject, I can try to answer that. The baptism of an infant is an action of profound faith. We make promises for our children, but we cannot force our kids to accept the Lordship of Christ when they are older. If someone were to be baptized in the Church, but then later were to deny Christ, I would assume that this will not go well for them on the Day of Judgment. I would say the same for infants as well as adults who are baptized.

Baptism is the normal way in which people enter the Kingdom of Heaven. However, there will certainly be people in the Resurrection of the Blessed who were not baptized in their lifetimes. St. Luke’s thief on the cross comes to mind.

I think there may be an assumption behind your question. The assumption is that there is a pinpoint moment at which time someone is saved. Some would say, “When I said the sinners prayer”and others would say, “when I was baptized.”Unfortunately, we all know of instances in which someone had one of those pinpoint moments but then later denied Christ. But, still we debate which moment is the “real one.”

I would suggest that Anglicans typically hold to a view of salvation which is both more mysterious and more biblical. We sometime say, “I was saved, I am being saved, and I hope to be saved.” Salvation is the work of the Holy Spirit, and the Spirit doesn’t always do things according to our expectations and timelines. God is not a machine, but a Unity of Persons. And, ultimately, my salvation relies less on either a faith statement or my baptism and more on the faithfulness of Jesus to me.

Moore Clarification: I do believe salvation is both a point in time and a process.  We are transferred out of Satan’s kingdom into God’s in a moment (Col. 1:13,14), but our growth in understanding that salvation is the rest of this life and the next.  I also believe that many are not aware of when their initial salvation or justification occurred.  Timothy would be a good example of this.  Lack of awareness in knowing the exact when does not mean there isn’t an exact when.

Moore: I noticed on the web site for your church that you guys have elders.  Do they play the same role that elders do in say a Presbyterian church?

McKenzie: No, not really. Our congregation is a bit of an aberration in this way. When we founded our church, we had some freedom in how we organized ourselves. After careful study, we decided to govern our local church by a group of 10 people, 9 lay leaders and the pastor. We decided to use the biblical words, rather than the traditional Anglican terminology. We still make important decisions as a group. However, the word “elder”should normally apply to priests in the Anglican Church, not to lay people.

Moore: I know several people who are part of Anglican churches who have disagreements with the Thirty-Nine Articles.  For example, some don’t believe in the parameters set forth in the statement about baptism (article XXVII) whereas others clearly don’t hold to the statements on predestination and election (article XVII).  How binding are the Thirty-Nine Articles for being Anglican?

McKenzie: One of the great things about the Anglican Church is the freedom we have. We resonate with Rupertus Meldenius’ axiom “In essentials, unity; in doubtful things, liberty; in all things, love.”

Any person is welcome to join us in worship. If someone wants to officially join our church, we typically ask that they affirm the Nicene Creed (which most congregations say every Sunday as part of worship). In many Anglican provinces and dioceses, candidates for ordination are required to affirm the 39 Articles of Religion.

It is no surprise to me at all that you know folks who attend an Anglican congregation who do not subscribe to all of those teachings. They are free to disagree and still be part of our church. If they wanted to be ordained, then I’m sure there would be a conversation with their pastor or bishop.

Ultimately, what someone thinks of the Articles won’t change the practice of the Church. We baptize children and adults, and we believe in salvation by grace alone. Someone’s agreement or disagreement won’t cause us to severe fellowship with them.

Moore: What would you say are the one or two biggest misunderstandings about the Anglican faith?

McKenzie: Most people in the U.S. neither know nor care about Anglicanism. So most people don’t have any misunderstanding, they simply have no understanding. Among those who do have some contact with the Anglican Church, there are a few things.

Most people who have visited one Anglican congregation think that all of our congregations are like that one. This is far from the truth. The Anglican Church boasts a great variety of congregations, from very Catholic ones to very Charismatic, from high church to low church, from tiny to enormous, from single-generation to multi-generation. So, if you happened to visit a small, anglo-catholic church filled with elderly people meeting in a beautiful sanctuary, you don’t have a full picture of our Church. Same if you once worshiped with 300 young Anglicans in a warehouse hung with video screens and boasting an awesome rock band.

Some people have heard about us in relationship to our views on homosexuality. The ACNA does not perform same-sex unions, neither do we ordain homosexual people who will not refrain from homosexual practice. For almost every Anglican person I know, this practice comes from theological convictions based on the Bible, not from personal animosity or fear. In other words, most of us are not homophobic. Rather, we do everything in our power to love and support all people while living within an orthodox moral framework. Some believe that homophobia is the only reason to stay consistent with the Bible and the orthodox practice of the Church. This is untrue, though I doubt I will convince anyone by saying that.

On the other side of the cultural divide, there are Christians who don’t think we are fully acceptable.  We are too catholic for some, too liturgical, too traditional or too stogy. Some are concerned that we aren’t Bible-based or Gospel-proclaiming. I would say that there are some Anglican churches which would do well to listen to those criticisms. However, most congregations I’ve visited are committed to godly worship, immersed in Scripture, dedicated to the poor, adapt (where appropriate) to culture, and actively proclaim the Good News of Jesus.

Thanks for this opportunity to talk about The Anglican Way. If you’re readers have more questions, they can always contact me through www.thomasmckenzie.com.

2015-03-19T18:38:55-05:00

Screen Shot 2015-03-19 at 7.37.23 PMSource, and it’s a great article, with this summary clipped: [Image]

The payout rules are complicated but enticing. Even if your college basketball team doesn’t win a game, you win $1.67 million. A round-of-16 appearance rakes in almost $5 million. A Final Four run? $8.3 million.

What sounds like the country’s most lucrative office pool is actually how the NCAA splits up much of the $700-plus million dollars its men’s basketball tournament makes each year. The competitors in this pool are collegiate sports conferences, and this month a large chunk of money — nearly $220 million, according to NCAA projections — is up for grabs.

The “basketball fund,” as it’s simply labeled, is the largest pool of money the NCAA doles out to schools and the only one allocated according to competitive sports success. A closer look at where the money goes illuminates the stratified economic landscape of college sports, where the rich schools get richer and the players remain amateurs.

The NCAA “urges” — but does not require — conferences to share this money equally among their member schools. Of the 32 conferences that participate in the tournament, 15 agreed to answer basic questions about how they use the basketball fund. Those conference officials said that, while specifics vary from conference to conference, they expect their peers use the money similarly.

In general, officials said, larger conferences split the money evenly among their schools, who use it to help cover athletic department budgets. Smaller conferences, meanwhile, depend on the basketball fund to cover their expenses, and some award any extra money to schools based on their own complicated formulas. For a smaller conference, one surprisingly successful tournament can produce budget-inflating windfalls for years.

Conference officials defend the system as a fair way to share money that supports college athletics. To critics of the NCAA and amateurism in college sports, however, the only number that matters about the basketball fund is the amount paid to the players: $0.

[Wait a minute, a free education, room and board is not nothing.]

2015-03-19T06:10:16-05:00

Seriously_Dangerous_ReligionIain Provan in Seriously Dangerous Religion: What the Old Testament Really Says and Why It Matter has taken us through a survey of the Old Testament to explore the Old Story told in the Bible. He then connected it with the new dimensions revealed through Jesus Christ. Now it is time to address the key question – not what does the Bible teach?, but rather is it true?

We are now in a position to return to where we began. … The Old Story… is in fact routinely regarded nowadays, on all sides, not just as ineffective but also as problematic and even dangerous. Implicit or explicit in that judgment is the further judgment that the Story is untrue. It does not correspond to the way things were, or are. That is why it is problematic and even dangerous, as we look toward the future. It is not a reliable guide to reality, and those who think that it is will inevitably do damage as they engage with reality.  (p. 348)

The question of truth must be seriously considered.  Everyone lives in a story of some sort, and lives their life and makes choices according to that story.

Human beings are always “storied,” regardless of whether they reflect upon this fact, just as they are always “political,” regardless of whether they vote. “The world is ruled by little else” than powerful ideas, “both when they are right and when they are wrong.” We can do no other than find ourselves in a story. The only question is, Are we going to make any effort to ensure that we are governed by right ideas rather than wrong ones? Or are we simply going to remain “slaves”to inherited ideas, without engaging in any critical reflection on them? (p. 349)

The Old Story told in scripture should be questioned and tested. Is it reasonable? Does it contribute to a coherent understanding of the world around us? Does it mesh with the facts we know and what we are learning? Are our inherited ideas actually faithful to the Old Story?

The last question is important. Many atheist writers will argue against the Story, but as I listen or read it becomes clear that the way the Story is framed is part of the problem. The Story shouldn’t be rejected in total because one way it has been told is clearly wrong.  We need to dig deeper.

Provan believes that this Story properly understood meshes well with the facts, and does so far better than any of the competing stories. In the remainder of the post today we will look at the first three areas he examines for coherence: on the nature of the world, the nature of God, and the nature of humankind.

earth2 cropThe nature of the world. Provan begins his consideration of the truth of the Old Story told in the Bible with the nature of the world.

1. The world is not eternal – it had a beginning and will have an end. Both scripture and modern science tell a similar story here. Time flows relentlessly in one direction. “The universe does not run on eternally, in endless cycles of existence, … It began, it is developing, and it will end. We inhabit a story.” (p. 354)

2. The universe is ordered, one of the “marked emphases in the Old Story.” The universe is finely tuned to allow us to flourish. This fact coheres nicely with the Old Story. Provan finds it implausible that this fine-tuned order arose simply from chance.

All of this is to say that the existence and nature of the cosmos in which we live imply, to me, a personal creator God of the kind that biblical faith proclaims. The cosmic story in which we are bound up implies a Storyteller—someone who is weaving the story together into a coherent tale. (p. 355)

The design apparent in the universe, in life on earth, in the creation of human persons, implies a designer.

The appearance of design shouldn’t raise hackles, but it does because of the baggage that has been attached to the concept of design and designer.

It is often deployed by people who want to set up in opposition God’s design of certain aspects of the world, on the one hand, and natural processes, on the other. In this way of approaching the world, this or that aspect of the created order is said to be explicable only in terms of God’s design, and not in terms of natural (especially evolutionary) processes. I need to be clear, then, that I do not mean by my own use of the word “design” to imply any such opposition and that, in fact, I do not believe that biblical faith requires or commends any such opposition. I am convinced, with many scientists, that “the science of Darwinism is fully compatiblewith conventional religious beliefs” and with biblical thinking itself. (p. 356)

Provan points to several passages in the Psalms to demonstrate that the action of God through “natural” process is a thoroughly biblical view. Psalm 8, 104 and 139 are all brought into the discussion. We can affirm with the psalmist that “you knit me together in my mother’s womb” without discounting the natural process of embryonic development. God is providentially involved in the world through so-called natural processes of development. Biblical faith and the nature of creation according to the Old Story isn’t opposed to modern science, and the natural processes studied and explained by modern science are not opposed to biblical faith.

Critical reflection on the Old Story leads us to understand that some of the scientific conclusions that have been drawn from it are wrong. But these do not undermine the Story itself.

3. There is a sense of the sacred that permeates human experience. Provan finds it hard to believe that this sense of the world as sacred space is merely an illusion, perhaps a byproduct of evolutionary pressures.

Some may find this easy to believe; I must say that I do not. Human beings are fundamentally religious beings, it seems to me, and we always have been. We are drawn to worship, as a moth is drawn to the flame. Why is that? An important aspect of this worship is thankfulness—a sense of gratitude for the world, and for our lives in it and for those we love. Why do we feel thankful? Do such intuitions correspond to nothing outside our heads and hearts? For myself, the existence of a Storyteller makes good sense of these intuitions in a way that nothing else does.  (p. 358)

The widespread need to worship, and the focus of this worship on personal gods of one sort or another arises from the reality of a Storyteller – however distorted the knowledge of this Storyteller has become at times.

4. We live in a good world. The Old Story tells us that the world was created to be enjoyed and gives us insight into the meaning of the world and how we should live. Science studies process, but it cannot teach us of meaning. The purpose and plan we experience speaks to “the deep plausibility of the Old Story.”

Moving from science to theology and the nature of God, Provan also suggests that biblical view of one personal God also lends coherence and plausibility to the Old Story. The alternatives are not as plausible. The absence of any kind of god leaves a void, with the world simply a progress of natural processes. Multiple deities with human traits and faults … stealing, deceiving, hungering, lusting  … provide an implausible structure with too many unanswered questions. An impersonal deity setting the world in motion is unsatisfactory – it lacks both relationship and community. The incarnation and resurrection are the ultimate expressions of a personal God.

And on to human beings. The view of humankind in the Old Story also lends to its plausibility. Humans are different from the other animals. These differences are profound.

A chimpanzee is not a human being. It does not possess a highly developed brain capable of abstract reasoning, language, or problem solving. It does not possess a desire for self-expression, and the appreciation for beauty that produces cultural innovations like art and music. It does not have an ability to understand and to influence the world around it through the development of tools, leading to such distinctively human innovations as building fires, cooking food, and making and wearing clothes. These are just observable facts. (p. 365)

The Old Story is realistically humanistic, acknowledging the good and the bad. It provides a way to live that values people old and young, male and female, rich and poor, slave and free.

I find that the biblical vision of human existence explains convincingly who I am and what I am to do. The world has indeed become a better place to the extent that this vision has already taken hold of it—a much greater extent than many people, without a profound sense of the past, have been able (or willing) to see. It has become a better place precisely to the extent that the intrinsic value and human rights of all human beings have been recognized—be they men, women, or children—and to whatever tribe, ethnicity, or religion they may belong. The world would be a better place still, I contend, if this biblical vision in its entirety—humanistic and democratic, and centered on the one, personal, and good God—were to be widely embraced. (p. 367)

Biblical humanism is grounded in the God who is for us. Secular humanism, Provan claims, lacks foundation and is not up to the task.

We will look at more areas where the Old Story must be examined for coherence in the next post, but this is enough for today.

What do you think of the strength (or weakness) of Provan’s argument?

Is the nature of the world consistent the truthfulness of the Old Story? Why or why not?

Is the nature of God as personal and relational an argument for the truthfulness of the Old Story?

Does the humanism of the Bible cohere with known facts?

If you wish to contact me, you may do so at rjs4mail[at]att.net.

If interested you can subscribe to a full text feed of my posts at Musings on Science and Theology.

2015-03-19T06:13:05-05:00

Screen-Shot-2015-03-11-at-6.25.18-PMAn interview with John Walton, author of the new The Lost World of Adam and Eve.

What made you dive into the discussions (and controversies) surrounding Adam and Eve and Genesis 2-3? 

John H. Walton: I have always been interested in Genesis, in ancient Near Eastern backgrounds, and in issues of science and the Bible, so there is no better text to work on.

What surprised you most as you were researching for this book?

Walton: I think what surprised me most was how varied and controversial the issue was even far back in church history. The interpretation is far from monolithic.

How did the responses you received to The Lost World of Genesis One and The Lost World of Scripture shape the arguments and questions you tackled in this book? 

Walton: The more I deal with controversial issues, the more 1 learn of ways to try to avoid potential controversy. It is always important to measure the rhetoric level carefully and not to overstate a case. I have learned that through experience.

You write that “Christianity has been forced to be content with a number of alternatives on the table for interpreting the early chapters of Genesis. It is sadly true that some have adopted a view that only their particular parochial reading is legitimate for a ‘real’ Christian. We must confess to our corporate shame that blood has even been shed.” Can you unpack that? 

Walton: We too easily believe that the world of biblical interpretation is a black and white world—that whatever view we have adopted is right and everyone else is wrong. Such a view is too facile. In many cases we do our best to be faithful interpreters, but the Bible just doesn’t offer enough information to give irreproachable confidence. Even as evangelicals with a common core of theological affirmations, we work with varieties of hermeneutical presuppositions and we weigh the evidence differently. Consequently we develop different preferences based on which view has the preponderance of the evidence supporting it. Though ultimately one position undoubtedly is right and others wrong, we are not always positioned to see that well.

That being the case, it is uncharitable to simply label those who disagree with you as wrong, and even as less than Christian, when they have done their best to engage in faithful interpretation based on orthodox theological presuppositions and a defensible hermeneutic. Theoretically, people will know we are Christians by our love, and I am not sure that we always do a good job of that if we are constantly engaged in denouncing others who are simply trying to be faithful to the text.

One of your major points throughout the book is that the threat posed by the current ideas surrounding human origins is magnified. Why do you think it’s important to address this issue now? 

Walton: We should always be ready to address new information coming to the table so that our interpretation is taking account of every piece of evidence. Genomics has brought important new information to our attention that needs to be taken into consideration. While it is appropriate to let Scripture speak for itself rather than being driven by the modern world (e.g., scientific discovery) or the ancient world (ancient Near Eastern texts), we should always be open to being prompted to reconsider the validity of our interpretations and willing to scrutinize them from a different vantage point.

How has your work as a professor both at Wheaton College and previously at Moody Bible Institute impacted the way you structure your books? 

Walton: I suspect it is more my personality than my experiences at Wheaton or Moody. I was a business-economics major trained to be an accountant (and actually worked as an accountant when I was in graduate school). My brain therefore categorizes information in certain ways and follows a particular kind of logic that is represented in the logical flow of the propositions that characterizes the Lost World books.

IVP distributed this interview.

2015-03-16T16:06:28-05:00

From Ian Paul’s website:

A few weeks ago, Linda Woodhead suggested in the Church Times that discipleship was a ‘theologically peripheral concept’, and the following week Angela Tilby dismissed the ‘d-word’ as ‘sectarian vocabulary that…shows the influence of American-derived Evangelicalism on the Church’s current leadership.’ The short discussions in each place actually raise not one but three, inter-related, questions:

1. Is ‘discipleship’ Anglican?

2. Is ‘discipleship’ biblical?

3. Is the Church of England biblical?…

On the first question, Tilby is certainly right to note that the ‘d-word’ is being used quite a lot at the moment. In his excellent Lambeth Lecture on evangelism, Justin Welby put the making of disciples central to the purpose of the church:

I want to start by saying just two simple sentences about the church. First, the church exists to worship God in Jesus Christ. Second, the Church exists to make new disciples of Jesus Christ. Everything else is decoration. Some of it may be very necessary, useful, or wonderful decoration – but it’s decoration.

[Solid discussion but I will now skip to end]

But why should anyone resist discipleship as an important part of the Church of England’s self-understanding? In a recent discussion on the Facebook page of Changing Attitude, someone complained about how the C of E is becoming ‘more evangelical’ and is unclear why this is. If true, I think there is one fairly simple answer: evangelicals have taken the idea of making disciples more seriously than other traditions in the Church. As Justin Welby comments, the idea of making disciples is not a reaction to falling attendances or a simply a means to refill the pews. Rather,

Witness and evangelism are expressions of the overflow of the love and joy of the grace of God into our lives, and the life of His whole Church and His whole world.

But empty pews won’t be filled without it. So if discipleship is biblical, and making disciples isn’t very Anglican, it is perhaps just at this moment that the Church of England needs to become a little more biblical again.

 

2015-03-17T06:35:30-05:00

ArizonaThere are several new books on my desk, The Nature of Creation: Examining the Bible and Science by Mark Harris, The Lost World of Adam and Eve: Genesis 2-3 and the Human Origins Debate by John Walton and Religion and the Sciences of Origins by Kelly James Clark. Each book digs into different aspects of the discussions surrounding science and Christian faith. Over the next several weeks (probably months) I intend to dig into all of them.

Today I will begin with The Nature of Creation. The author, Mark Harris, is a lecturer  in Science and Religion at the University of Edinburgh. He began his career as an experimental physicist in condensed matter where he investigated the properties of the so-called spin-ice, solids with an intrinsic spin disorder that persists even to absolute zero. Pure water falls into this class, but is hard to crystallize. Dr. Harris worked on heavy rare earth titanate pyrochlores X2Ti2O7 with X= Gd, Dy, Ho, Er, or Yb. He has a number of influential papers published in Physical Review Letters and other top-notch scientific journals. I bring this up only to emphasize that he has the credentials and background from the sciences. On the religion side, he also trained for the ordained ministry and spent time in university chaplaincy and cathedral ministry before taking his current position at the University of Edinburgh running the Science and Religion program in the School of Divinity.

In the first chapter of The Nature of Creation, Harris outlines some general ideas. It is common to think about the doctrine of creation in terms of a series of propositions. (p. 4)

  • God created the world from nothing. He is not dependent upon the world.
  • Creation is wholly contingent upon God.
  • God is therefore both the initial creator of the world, and also its continuing sustainer.
  • God created the world as good.
  • Evil came to be present, but does not derive from God.
  • Creation will have an end in a “new heaven and a new earth.”

I’d say that we also affirm that God created the world beautiful. The pictures included in this post display some small part of that beauty.

But is this propositional approach an appropriate way to frame the doctrine of creation?

Mediterranean Off Caesarea MaritimaWe need to take scripture seriously right from the start, but taking scripture seriously as foundational and authoritative also requires acknowledging what the text does and does not say. The biblical texts do not provide one simple view of relationship between creation and Creator. Rather the texts provide many different perspectives.

The first few chapters of the Bible (Genesis 1-3) are justifiably memorable, telling the story of the creation of the world in resonant prose, from the beginning of time (“In the beginning”) to the story of the first humans and their shortcomings. When we speak of creation and the Bible it is invariably these chapters which come to mind. However, there is a great wealth of additional creation material spread throughout the Bible, much of which does not show awareness of this initial section. For instance, some of the psalms and prophets speak about creation in terms of a mythological battle between God and the sea, while the book of Proverbs speaks of creation through the personified divine figure of Wisdom. Therefore, one of the first points that should be made in approaching the Bible’s creation texts is that there is no single theological understanding, but a diversity, and it is not clear that this diversity can (or should) be collapsed into a single, harmonized unity. In any case, it is not even as if Genesis 1-3 presents a uniform picture. … Genesis 1-3 contains at least two distinct creation traditions, probably arising from different points in Israel’s history and representing different theological presuppositions. In short the Bible holds several understanding of creation in tension. (p. 9-10)

The creation material contained in the Bible is theological, but it cannot be easily reduced to a series of metaphysical propositions such as those given above. Rather the view of creation is presented in a “diverse variety of narrative and poetic themes.”  However, “this diverse body of material … is central to everything the Bible has to say about who God is.” (p. 10)  The Bible opens with creation and closes with new creation.

In terms of the Christian Bible’s canonical shape, then creation is the first and last theological statement to be made, and it is theologically foundational; it opens and closes all other statements about God which can be made. It is upon this foundational image of God as Creator that the Bible’s theologies of redemption, ethics, and eschatology are built.  Therefore as we look at the creation material in this book, and at the ways in which it has been construed scientifically, we shall see again and again that it is best interpreted in terms of what we learn about God rather than in terms of what we learn about the world. (p. 10)

Reflections1A Christian understanding of creation has become contentious as some insist on a literal reading of Genesis 1-3 and a rejection of the conclusions of modern science. Those who take this approach will argue that the text provides a concrete description. It is not “simply” poetic and metaphorical. Harris agrees with this reasoning, although he does not agree with the literal reading of Genesis 1-3.  To take the text as metaphorical is to “overlook important points about what the author was trying to achieve.” (p. 11)

For instance, Genesis 1 appears to describe something like a developmental picture of beginnings, which has been compared with modern evolutionary ideas, yet the text is concerned with illustrating how creation is ordered by God in moral and aesthetic terms. … And if we look at the creation imagery more widely in the Bible, we find that it points repeatedly to moral, aesthetic and spiritual values over anything we might construe as “scientific.” We find that it demonstrates God’s fruitfulness, constancy, and faithfulness to the world. (p. 11-12)

4-1 dsDenis Lamoureux introduced the idea that ancient “science” is present in the Bible, but it is incidental to the message of the Bible – a topic I’ve posted on in the past. (The image to the right comes from his book Evolutionary Creation.) The ancient author used his understanding of cosmology to relate a concrete message about God. We shouldn’t interpret the text metaphorically or as a scientific treatise, rather we should look for the theological message.  Harris agrees, pointing out that the Bible does relate a concrete message about creation, but this message is not scientific. It is moral, aesthetic, spiritual, and theological. The creation texts in the Bible use diverse ideas and imagery to describe creation. There is less diversity when it comes to the moral, aesthetic, spiritual and theological message.

So far I’ve only scratched the surface, but it looks like Harris will take us in some interesting directions as he explores creation according to science, creation according to the Bible, suffering, evil, and new creation.  Join us as we dig in to the book.

Is a Christian doctrine of creation appropriately framed as a series of propositions?

How else could we frame the question?

To what extent should we interpret the biblical texts as about God rather than about the world?

If you wish to contact me, you may do so at rjs4mail[at]att.net.

If interested you can subscribe to a full text feed of my posts at Musings on Science and Theology.

2015-03-13T21:47:23-05:00

By Stephen Cuss

Fred Craddock died over the weekend.  He was 86 years old.

His influence belied his small stature, extending to tens of thousands of pulpits around the world.  I cannot overstate how much he influenced my approach to scripture, story telling and preaching.

I first encountered Dr Craddock when I was a teenager in Western Australia.  Our preacher’s son, David Timms had returned from his theological education in USA.  He preached at our church and I’d never heard any sermon like it.  Winsome, gentle, inviting, provocative.  I was hooked.  David’s sermon was “Craddockesque” and he closed with a powerful story authored by Fred Craddock.  That was the kind of preacher I wanted to be.

With David’s influence, I enrolled at Johnson University,  Fred Craddock’s Alma Mater.  Dr Craddock came through town to give a lecture on the synoptic gospels.  Our professor, David Reece, took us to spend a day listening to the maestro.  6 hours of content, no notes.  Ninety minutes each on Matthew, Mark, Luke, John.  Craddock was as fascinated by “why does Luke want us to notice this?” and “How does John arrange his stories” as “what is Jesus saying here?”  I was fascinated by Craddock’s fascination.  That was the kind of Bible student I wanted to be.

To pay homage to my hero, here are a few lessons I learned from Dr Craddock:

1) Let the text work on you before ever opening a commentary.  If you begin by asking “scholar questions” you will end up with a “scholar sermon.”  First ask human questions before ever turning to the scholars.  Craddock, a world class New Testament scholar himself often said, “scholars can ruin a lot of good sermons.”  To be clear, he was pro scholarship and warned of the danger of a preacher going too far down his own path.  But his challenge was to FIRST ask the same sorts of questions of the text that the person in the pew would ask and to let that shape the message.  He was a PhD New Testament Scholar but he always came across as the fellow traveller on the journey of life.  He harnessed scholarship to serve the every day people.

2) Preach in such a way to put the listener in a dynamic relationship with the text.  Dr Craddock was an early lone voice to shift preaching from proving a point to crafting an experience that gives room for the listener to draw his or her own conclusions.

3) 15 hours of prep, 30 minutes of resolution BAD.  To summarize Craddock: “why spend all that sermon preparation wrestling with the text, trying to figure out what it means, the implications, the challenges etc, only to resolve it for people in a 30 minute sermon?  Instead, structure your sermon to provide a framework for your people to wrestle 15 hours this next week.”  I wonder if this is why Craddock was so famous for crash landing his sermons.  In “What Shall I Do With The Gift” Craddock preaches for 26 minutes and doesn’t make his main point until the last 26 seconds of the message.  25 minutes in and Craddock is still cruising at 30,000 feet, when suddenly, within 30 seconds he’s done, sitting back down on the front row in silence while the rest of us are thinking, “wait, its not finished yet.” I have listened to that message over a dozen times and each time I ponder it for hours.

4) Effective preaching is as much about the audience than the text.  This isn’t pandering, it is connecting.  Craddock shaped preaching away from how it is spoken to how it is heard.  A subtle difference?  Craddock says it is all the difference and that is why people from all walks of life love Craddock’s sermons.  They fit as comfortably in Yale’s Chapel as they did in Appalachia Georgia.

5) A well told story never needs to be explained.   Craddock always advocated for the intelligence of the listeners, but too many preachers are heavy handed when connecting the dots.  When you attend a play, the director doesn’t come out at intermission and say, “Aren’t we all like the lead character, Daryl?”  Let the story do its own work and trust the intelligence of the listener to connect.  They will connect much deeper when you don’t try to hold their hand.

6) Not just “what does the text say” but “what does this author want us to notice?”  Before Craddock, I’d never thought much about the difference between Matthew and Luke’s version of the Beatitudes, but since Craddock, I always ask this vital question and it always brings the text more alive.

7) Find your voice and preach your way.  Craddock was famously short with a high pitched voice.  He came to influence in an era of 6′ tall baritone and bass preachers who’s very posture commanded authority.  Craddock said, “It would be ridiculous of me to try to barge in the front door of the heart.  With my size and voice, I have to climb in through the back window.”  He was a master at understanding the natural human resistance to a message.  We’d come in to listen to a sermon with the front door of our heart dead bolted shut.  Craddock would be rummaging around in our hearts before we ever realized we’d forgotten to lock the back window. He used what God had given him to a stunning advantage.

8) Finally, only preach what matters.  Late in life after a generation of teaching Homiletics and New Testament, Craddock retired and found himself planting a church in Georgia.  His pledge to them was, “I will only ever preach on things that matter.”  Too many sermons are too small for the gospel. They don’t match the burdens, wonder, excitement and fears of the listeners. They simply don’t matter.  Preach what matters to people and you’ll get a front row seat to spiritual hunger and growth in your people.

Thank you Dr Craddock for your profound influence on my life and the lives of tens of thousands of others.  I sit in my chair, about to continue sermon preparation for this week.  Your commentary on Luke is open and ready.

You have no equal in the pulpit, but I’m forever grateful for your influence.

2015-03-13T21:47:23-05:00

Preaching and the Life of Study: Some Gleanings from the Late Fred Craddock, by Allan Bevere
Fred Craddock, who taught preaching and New Testament at Candler School of Theology at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia, died last Friday at the age of 86. Those of us who preach know his name well. It was simply not possible to go through seminary and fail to encounter his writings in homiletics (preaching) courses. I have read just about everything he wrote. His wisdom influenced my scholarship and my preaching in a profound way.

The first book I read many years ago by Craddock was simply entitled, Preaching. The one portion of the book I remember the most was chapter four: “The Life of Study.” His emphasis on study, not as the means to the end of writing a sermon, but as a way of life out of which sermons grow is a lesson I have never forgotten. He writes,

When the life of study is confined to “getting up sermons,” very likely those sermons are undernourished. They are the sermons of a preacher with the mind of a consumer, not a producer, the mind that looks upon life in and out of books in terms of usefulness for next Sunday. The last day of such a ministry is as the first, having enjoyed no real lasting or cumulative value in terms of the minister’s own growth of mind, understanding or sympathy. Studying only for the next sermon is very much like clearing out of the wilderness a small garden patch, only to discover the next week that the wilderness has again taken over.
Of course, in one sense the life of study has been rather easy for me. I love to study, but as Craddock notes the temptation to allow the other demands of pastoral ministry to get in the way of the life of study can be too great. Once the life of study is seen as a luxury in pastoral ministry and not a necessity, not only will the sermon suffer along with the congregation that is listening, but the spiritual life of the pastor will suffer as well.

One of the reasons I think I have learned so much from Craddock over the years is because he did not separate his studious (scholarly) life from his devotional life. All too often that is exactly what clergy do, as if the deeply intellectual ponderments of the faith get in the way of the warm and fuzzy and simple devotional writings that Craddock said offered about nine calories a serving. Craddock’s work reinforced to me that it was OK to to devote myself to study and that scholarly work could and would draw me closer to Jesus Christ, which it has.

The founder of Methodism, John Wesley would have found a kindred spirit in Fred Craddock in reference to the life of study. Although he famously claimed to be a “man of one book,” the Bible, he was also clear on the necessity to read and study other materials as well. To his lay preachers who didn’t like to read saying they only needed the Bible, Wesley advised them to learn to like it or return to their former trade.

Craddock gets at Wesley’s counsel to learn to like reading with some his own direct and honest words:

Let’s look study straight in the face and call it what it is. Study is work, often hard work, and just as often having no immediate fruit in terms of solution to a problem, counsel to a parishioner, or message for next Sunday. Motivation has to be nourished by deep springs because frequently it is not the case that what we have to do can be transformed into what we want to do…. The work is hard, and sometimes accompanied by pain and fear….
One fears to plow through a new volume if there is a chance that a favorite landscape will be bulldozed in the process. One fears discovering a truth which will demand rethinking several views and changing the mind. One fears that somehow the knowledge will somehow negate the pleasures of naïvete.
I readily confess that the life of study has not left me unchanged. Over time certain things I used to believe, I no longer do, while others things I believed when I was younger have been strengthened. But such is the wild and surprising journey in searching for the truth. And if we Christians truly believe that all truth is God’s truth, then why avoid the adventure of the life of study?

Fellow preachers, let not our finished sermons each week be the end of our study. Let us all take some advice from our wise teacher Dr. Craddock, and let them grow out of the fertile soil of the life of reading and study.

The life of study will be a blessing to those who preach the gospel… and to those who hear it.

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