Archives For April 2010

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I found the following excerpt from Michael Lawrence’s new Biblical Theology in the Life of the Church (browse; buy) really helpful. I’ve been excited about the storyline view of Scripture, and I still believe it is primary. It is essential to know that the Bible is about what God is doing to redeem His fallen creation. But the existence of a primary purpose implies a secondary (and a tertiary?). Perhaps it’s analogous to words and discourses. You can’t have one without the other. I shy away from saying that they have “equal ultimacy” because many individual words could be dropped out without losing the discourse. For that reason I see the storyline of Scripture as primary.

What is the Bible? My own church’s statement of faith provides one possible answer, one that I think many of us tend to use. In our very first article of faith, we affirm that the Bible is “a perfect treasure of heavenly instruction,” that “it reveals principles by which God will judge us,” and therefore is “the supreme standard by which all human conduct, creeds, and opinions should be tried.” I think every single one of those statements is true, but notice their emphasis. The Bible is a collection of instructions, principles, and standards. To put it in more colloquial terms, the Bible is an “answer book” for life’s problems or a compendium of principles by which to live and die. But is this definition adequate for ministry?

Let’s take that definition of the Bible and apply it to a question the elders of my church recently faced. A family was considering making a large capital purchase. Yet to provide the required down payment, they would have had to alter their tithe to the church for a short period. They hoped to make it up to the church later, but there was no guarantee they could. They came to us for advice.

If the Bible is fundamentally an answer book, then we’ll expect to find a verse or passage that gives this family the counsel they need. But which passage do we turn to? Malachi 3:10—“Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse”—seems to provide an answer, but then what do we do with 2 Corinthians 9:7? “Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” Consider also the story of Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5. Does the story mean we should have warned this family, or is it just a story about what happened to two people in Jerusalem in a unique time of the church’s life with no normative implications for our lives? As you can see, the “answer book” approach to the Bible raises a host of questions before we even get to the answer we’re looking for.

Another possible answer to the question, “What is the Bible?” is that it’s a story, a narrative of God’s interaction with the world he made. Though there are lots of people in this story, it’s fundamentally about what God has done and will do to bring this world to judgment and his people to salvation. According to this working definition, the Bible reveals the plan of salvation and how God has accomplished that plan, first through Israel and finally through Jesus Christ. Is this definition more useful for ministry than the previous one?

Let’s apply it to the question we just considered. If the Bible is merely, or mostly, the story of God’s saving actions in history, then beyond trusting in Christ for their salvation, rather than in worldly riches, it doesn’t have much to say to their question. We might refer them to Luke 16 and the story of Lazarus and the rich man, or to Hebrews 11 and the character of faith which looks forward to “a better country—a heavenly one.” But at the end of the day, unless we revert to the answer book approach or to pragmatic wisdom, this definition of the Bible leaves us with very little to say to the family which wants to know if they can delay their tithe in order to purchase property. As you can see, the story of salvation approach to the Bible may be faithful to the main point, but it also seems to contradict 2 Peter 1:3, where we are promised that we have been given “everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.”

A Better Definition

So what should we do? What we need is a better understanding of what the Bible is, one that doesn’t reduce it to life’s little answer book, but keeps the focus on God, where it belongs. But we also need an understanding that doesn’t reduce it to the story of how we get saved and go to heaven, leaving the rest of life up for grabs. We need a working definition of the Bible that allows for systematic answers to almost any question that comes up, but that also provides those answers in the context of the biblical storyline itself. We don’t want to rip verses out of their context, and so misapply them, but neither do we want a story that never touches down into the nitty-gritty of our lives.

What did the authors of the Westminster Catechism mean by “enjoy” in their first question? Did they mean what we mean by the word—”to take delight in”? Or did they in fact mean something different, “to give joy to”? Is man’s chief end “to glorify God and give joy to God forever”? I’ve seen people argue both ways, and I was curious to know who was right.

So I went to the best authorities in the field. I checked the OED, and I went to the original source, the Westminster Catechism. Here are the relevant portions from the OED entry for enjoy (v.):

2. a. trans. To put into a joyous condition; to make happy, give pleasure to. Obs.

  • 1484 CAXTON Ryall Bk. Cj, For to gladde and enjoye the people.
  • c1500 Melusine 150 Whos taryeng enjoyed her moche.
  • 1502 Ord. Crysten Men IV. xxvii. (1506) 324 That it hym may enioye & recomforte in his spyryte.
  • 1610 MARKHAM Masterp. II. li. 107 No meat will enioy or do good vnto him.

3. a. trans. To possess, use, or experience with delight. Also with reference to the feeling only: To take delight in, relish. Also absol.

  • 1462 Paston Lett. No. 457 II. 109 Iche off us all schuld injoy the wylleffar off odyr.
  • 1538 STARKEY England ii. 67 No one can long Enyoy plesure.
  • 1597 SHAKES. 2 Hen. IV, IV. iv. 108 Such are the Rich, That haue aboundance, and enioy it not.
  • a1639 Reliq. Wotton. 12 Both well enough injoying the present.
  • 1667 MILTON P.L. IX. 829 Adam wedded to another Eve, Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct.
  • 1713 ADDISON Cato (T.), I could enjoy the pangs of death And smile in agony.
  • 1742 RICHARDSON Pamela III. 137 How he..injoys..the Relations of his own rakish Actions.
  • 1870 E. PEACOCK Ralf Skirl II. ii. 10 William enjoyed the novelty very much.
  • 1872 RUSKIN Eagle’s Nest §85 It is appointed for all men to enjoy, but for few to achieve.

Linguistically, then, it would seem that either sense is possible in the 1640s catechism: 2a) “to bring joy to God forever” or 3a) “to take delight in God forever.” You can’t just say that Shakespeare, Milton, and Addison were on the 3a side and that settles it. Both uses were clearly idiomatic during the time the Westminster Catechism was written.

So how can we know which one the original authors intended? I did some research into the provenance of the catechism’s proof texts. It appears that they were supplied by the original committee and are therefore a testimony to their intent.

The lone proof text the catechism’s authors place next to the phrase “and enjoy Him forever” is Ps 73:25-28:

Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee. My flesh and my heart faileth: but God is the strengthe of my heart, and my portion for ever. For, lo, they that are far from thee shall perish: thou hast destroyed all them that go a whoring from thee. But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works.

This proof text clearly points toward the latter sense, 3a, taking delight in. The focus of the passage is Asaph’s enjoyment of God, His desire for time with Him. I don’t catch any hints of giving joy to God in that passage but, rather, of finding joy in God, delighting in and desiring Him alone (though I fully believe that desiring God as Asaph did brings joy to Him).

May God give me this delight!

The proof texts subsequent generations of interpreters supplied to question 1 also support viewing “enjoy” as an example of OED’s sense 3a. They include verses like “happy is that people, whose God is the Lord” and “rejoice in the Lord alway”. None of the proofs support 2a. And commentaries on the standards, including those of Thomas Vincent in 1674 and James Fisher in 1753, clearly view “enjoy” in OED sense 3a.

Also, question 38 of the Westminster Catechism reads, “What benefits do believers receive from Christ at the resurrection?” Among the benefits listed is that believers will be “made perfectly blessed in the full enjoying of God to all eternity.” The proof texts prove neither view here (I John 3:2; I Cor. 13:12), but the focus appears to be on the benefits believers receive, not those they give.

And question 90 of the Catechism says that believers will be “made perfectly holy and happy both in body and soul, …especially in the immediate vision and fruition of God the Father.” Apparently the Westminster divines were at least willing to speak of being happy because of God. (Question 90 continues, incidentally, “This is the perfect and full communion, which the members of the invisible church shall enjoy with Christ in glory”—which also seems to reflect the OED 3a sense).

The Westminster Divines meant that it was part of our creational purpose to delight in God forever. What a privilege, and what a responsibility unspeakable and full of glory.

Periodic Reminder

April 20, 2010 — 2 Comments

Scholar's Library: Platinum

I’m the semi-official Logos Bible Software representative for BJU. Honestly, I’d rather your money go through the Campus Store, but there are some details which haven’t fallen into place there yet.

Here is the discount link for BJU faculty, staff, and students:

http://www.logos.com/academic/bju/2010

I recently heard my pastor say that if he were training for ministry today he would go electronic. I highly recommend the Platinum package to anyone who can work up to it or buy it outright. You get several quality commentary sets and many other excellent resources (along with some detritus and certain works that are great but you won’t use—but don’t let that dissuade you).

Let’s run through a quick study of what Logos Platinum includes that a ministerial student would likely buy anyway if he went analog (not necessarily what he should buy, as in the case of the TDNT, IMHO). I was very conservative, leaving out many other things you might be interested in and just picking a few commentaries where you would want to pick more. What follows is the best price I found for each item in a very quick check:

  • One Greek Interlinear: $15
  • Hebrew Bible*: $18 pb
  • LXX: $30
  • BDAG: $130
  • Holladay’s Concise Hebrew Lexicon: $25
  • BDB: $20
  • Abridged TDNT: $35
  • Metzger’s Textual Commentary: $27
  • BECNT on Lk, Rom, 1Cor, Php, Rev: $200
  • NIGTC on Php: $40
  • Pillar on Mk, Jn, Eph, Jas: $108
  • NAC on Ex, Jsh, Jdg-Rth, Prov+Ecc+Sng, Gal, 1+2Pet+Jude: $134
  • A Bible Dictionary like the NBD: $30
  • Archer’s OT Intro: $27
  • Biblical Foundations for Manhood and Womanhood:  $12
  • Concise Theology: $10
  • Hodge’s ST or Strong’s ST: $30
  • Josephus: $12

*You get a GNT (actually several), of course, but you’ll still want a paper copy for the textual critical notes and other reasons. But most seminarians will not need the marginalia in a  Hebrew Bible like they need it for the GNT.

There are also a few resources you wouldn’t buy in print but you will definitely want electronically in some format—they might as well be in Logos. That would include the morphologically analyzed (that is, parsed) GNT, Hebrew OT, and LXX. You may also end up using some of the syntactically analyzed original language texts. I’m going to put the value of these kinds of resources—conservatively—at $100.

I left out a few things that are nice to have in Logos but are free elsewhere such as the Apostolic Fathers and Calvin’s Institutes. But to be fair, it’s really nice to have these searchable and indexed on your own hard drive in a familiar format. So let’s add another $40 of value.

I’d like to add one more intangible: convenience. That includes portability and searchability. I’m going to peg that at $100, though its actual value may be much greater to you—say, if you become a missionary and can avoid shipping costs.

Now let’s take out a value of $43 because you can’t lend your books out  or read them in bed without hassle, and because your wife and kids can’t stumble across good books in your library as easily—and because that makes my math work out better. The value I’ve given to all of these intangibles is highly disputable, but you need to take them into account somehow.

I got a total value of $1100, and that is just a bit below what Platinum will cost a student with the BJU discount. I highly recommend going Platinum.

Enlightenment rationalism has failed as a worldview. There’s just something missing. And some of the Enlightenment’s most redoubtable defenders are willing to admit it. Sort of.

That’s the theme of Stanley Fish’s latest blog-column. He tells the sad story of Jürgen Habermas, a German philosopher who has admitted that the “humanist self-confidence of a philosophical reason which thinks that it is capable of determining what is true and false” has been “shaken” by “the catastrophes of the twentieth century.” In the wake of two world wars and many other secular atrocities Habermas has decided that reason needs religion. Again, sort of. (Read the whole piece to see for yourself.)

Fish sees even more clearly than Habermas, as his piece will demonstrate. I always crow about Fish’s New York Times blog-columns because God’s common grace has given him an uncommon measure of insight. I literally gasped with pleasure as I read paragraphs like this:

A political structure that welcomes all worldviews into the marketplace of ideas, but holds itself aloof from any and all of them, will have no basis for judging the outcomes its procedures yield. Worldviews bring with them substantive long-term goals that serve as a check against local desires. Worldviews furnish those who live within them with reasons that are more than merely prudential or strategic for acting in one way rather than another.

Fish relates a story Habermas tells about his own life. Habermas had a Swiss friend who, though never a religious believer during his life, elected to have a church funeral. Habermas says his friend “had sensed the awkwardness of non-religious burial practices and, by his choice of place, publicly declared that the enlightened modern age has failed to find a suitable replacement for a religious way of coping with the final rite de passage.” Fish sharpens Habermas’ point: “In the context of full-bodied secularism, there would seem to be nothing to pass on to, and therefore no reason for anything like a funeral.”

Fish is one of America’s premier academics writing in America’s “newspaper of record” (my and—I just found out, my pastor’s—favorite newspaper). This is about as high as the “popular level” goes. And here is Fish taking dynamite to the foundation of sand upon which much of our nation is built.

Praise the Lord and pass the demolition.

I’m no anarchist. I like the peace afforded me by the Empire’s New Clothes. But I’m thinking of the precious souls who live and die assuming that the foundation of reason standeth sure. Many of them can be seen making negative comments on Fish’s posts. They can’t fathom that science could be anything but the way, the truth, and the life. I pray that Fish, though a non-Christian, can cause some of these people I will never meet to realize that there is only one reliable Rock upon which to build their lives.

I also pray that Fish himself would follow his God-given reason to its intended telos. It is remarkable to me that he never does so. He is a dwarf for the dwarfs, shooting at both sides in the last battle of our times. (I admit that I speak with considerable ignorance on this point, having picked up only one of his books, but I am a religious reader of his columns.) The secular left has picked up on this failure as well, as his Wikipedia page shows.

May God give more light to our nation—and please do read Fish’s entire piece.

Are agapao and phileo really different in the New Testament? How about in John 21:15-17, Jesus’ famous conversation with Peter? What does the evidence say?

I just read a great little book which genuinely helped me understand my Bible better, Roy F. Butler’s little known The Meaning of Agapao and Phileo in the Greek New Testament (Lawrence, KS: Coronado Press, 1977).

I wrote an Amazon review of it:

This short, punchy work takes aim at the very common view that ἀγαπάω (agapao) and φιλέω (phileo) indicate very different kinds of love in the NT. Butler fires rapidly but with great precision, and he takes the time to do what few scholars seem to have done: he actually looks at all the uses of the two Greek words in the NT. He shows convincingly that every kind of use of phileo is matched by a synonymous use of agapao. The two words are synonyms, not denominators of vast and mutually excluding theological systems. He concludes that agapao and phileo both mean the same thing, and we have a perfect English word for it: “love.”

Butler was particularly helpful with John 21:15-17. He also writes with real verve, personality, and humor without going over the top.

Butler fails almost entirely to discuss linguistics and how it might enlighten the problem. For example, a discussion of sense and reference might have helped him not to overstate his case when it comes to what Moisés Silva might call a “technically charged” use of one of the Greek words in question. But Butler’s methods are still generally sound. Who can argue with usage? What this book may lack in linguistic sophistication, it makes up for in punchiness. A quick, genuinely helpful read—and this reviewer has been reading a lot on the topic.

Let me share just a few excerpts, too. These are Butler’s comments on John 21:15-17, the passage many have appealed to for a difference between agapao and phileo. I myself was already persuaded of almost all Butler’s views, but on this one I felt he tipped me over the fence I was riding and brought me down on his side. R.C. Trench was one of the earliest interpreters to see a difference between the two words for love in that passage, and Butler takes issue with Trench’s now classic interpretation:

Trench’s arguments have in them several elements that will not stand up under scrutiny. Of least importance is the fact that they make no logical sense. Inasmuch as Peter had used the verb phileo twice on his own account, why should he be distressed by Jesus’ use of it? Assuming that he might be so distressed, however, for reasons not perceptible to human intelligence, why in spite of his distress would he answer again with the same verb which so distressed him on Jesus’ lips? Most important is the fact that two plain and simple statements of John the writer are customarily overlooked by those who aspire to prove by this passage that agapao and phileo have different meanings. In point of fact, they must be overlooked if this passage is to be cited to establish a difference between the two verbs. They are…first: ‘He said to him for the third time’; and, second: ‘Peter was grieved because He said to him for the third time.’

After Jesus twice asked Peter, ‘Do you love me?’ using the verb agapao each time, John in his own person continues, ‘He said to him for the third time, ‘Do you love me’ using phileo. Now it ought to be obvious that unless the verbs are exact synonyms, John could not state that Jesus used phileo ‘for the third time’; as a matter of strict fact, Jesus had used agapao twice previously, and this was the first, not the third, time he had used phileo. Only if the two words are identical in meaning does John’s statement hold water. (p. 62)

I wanted to buy his argument, but I wondered if “for the third time” really demanded what Butler says. He anticipated my question. He argues in a footnote (pp. 83-84) that το τριτον never means “upon the third occasion,” but always, “for the third time.”

He argues in the next footnote against another common objection, this one voiced by Moulton and Milligan:, “In so severely simple a writer as John it is extremely hard to reconcile ourselves to a meaningless use of synonyms, where the point would seem to lie in the identity of the word employed.” Butler argues that “there are two mistakes in their thinking. The first is the assumption that a simple writer limits himself in the use of synonyms. The simplicity or complexity of a piece of writing is determined largely by its style. The second mistake lies in the implication that John himself does not use synonyms. John in fact customarily, even habitually, uses synonyms.” (p. 84)

One other big advance Butler made for me was to note that it’s not just that φιλέω and ἀγαπάω are used interchangeably in the NT. They are used interchangeably in very similar contexts and with the same objects: God, man, life, etc. In fact, he puts it this way: “For every occurrence of phileo there is an occurrence of agapao expressing exactly the same idea.” (p. 70)

Now, the reverse is not exactly true, but it’s close. It’s kind of complex!

Neil Postman has pointed out that when the flow of information in a society has become a flood, information filters become increasingly important. We need mechanisms to distinguish good information from bad, useful from worthless. Postman’s prescience amazes me, because he wrote Technopoly before the advent of the Internet—before the flood became a worldwide inundation that extends 15 cubits above the mountaintops. We’re drowning in information, and we’re inhaling good, bad, useful, and worthless in huge gulps.

Science is a generally trusted information filter, but it actually gave a big boost to credulity by giving us the Net, the international credulity club. Has your inbox, like mine, been filled with these bits of Internet detritus?

  • Forward this e-mail and Microsoft will send you an iPad.
  • Forward this e-mail and little Johnny won’t die.
  • Forward this e-mail and President Obama was really born in the Kremlin, which is really in Saudi Arabia, which is really a hologram.

Snopes.com is one of the major trusted information filters out there for urban legends like these. As soon as they land in your inbox (which must mean that some people really do believe them) and beckon you to click “Forward,” you can go to Snopes to check out their validity. An interesting, must-read New York Times article quotes Snopes’ owners, who are quite perceptive about the failure of our public information filters:

“Especially in politics, most everything has infinite shades of gray to it, but people just want things to be true or false…. In the larger sense, it’s people wanting confirmation of their world view.”

Snopes nailed it. Our information filters fail us not because the facts aren’t there to be found, but because people have higher commitments. They have presuppositions. Their affections are pointing them toward some answers and not others. They want their teams to win at all costs, even if truth is the down payment. Or perhaps we could put it like Paul did: they “suppress the truth in unrighteousness.”

Another perceptive quotation in the Times article came from Brooks Jackson of FactCheck.org, a site similar to Snopes.com:

“The ‘news’ that is not fit to print gets through to people anyway these days, through 24-hour cable gasbags, partisan talk radio hosts and chain e-mails, blogs and Web sites such as WorldNetDaily or Daily Kos…. What readers need now, we find, are honest referees who can help ordinary readers sort out fact from fiction.”

But how do we know who’s “honest”? Some people think WorldNetDaily is an honest referee, and that its negative mention in the New York Times is only further evidence of the Gray Lady’s complicity in an international conspiracy against the truly true facts.

How can we get out of this mess? Where are the reliable information filters? We won’t find them until we all acknowledge that every one of us trusts certain authorities and not others.

Me? I believe in the inspiration of the Bible, both the Old and the New Testaments. I have an authority which is utterly trustworthy, because it comes from the only Person in the Universe with a truly objective view.

As for any other authorities, I’m not so sure. I did some research on the Internet, and I found out that Snopes.com is bankrolled by Saudi Arabian iPad sales.

One More

April 3, 2010 — Leave a comment

Just one more sad, sad quote from Nothing to Envy:

Dr. Kim staggered up the riverbank. Her legs were numb, encased in frozen trousers. She made her way through the woods until the first light of dawn illuminated the outskirts of a small village. She didn’t want to sit down and rest—she feared succumbing to hypothermia—but she knew she didn’t have the strength to go much farther. She would have to take a chance on the kindness of the local residents. Dr. Kim looked down a dirt road that led to farmhouses. Most of them had walls around them with metal gates. She tried one; it turned out to be unlocked. She pushed it open and peered inside. On the ground she saw a small metal bowl with food. She looked closer—it was rice, white rice, mixed with scraps of meat. Dr. Kim couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a bowl of pure white rice. What was a bowl of rice doing there, just sitting out on the ground? She figured it out just before she heard the dog’s bark. Up until that moment, a part of her had hoped that China would be just as poor as North Korea. She still wanted to believe that her country was the best place in the world. The beliefs she had cherished for a lifetime would be vindicated. But now she couldn’t deny what was staring her plainly in the face: dogs in China ate better than doctors in North Korea.

A sadly funny excerpt from Nothing to Envy: Ordinary Lives in North Korea:

Mi-ran’s mother later told her that four of her father’s buddies in the mines, fellow South Koreans, had been executed for minor infractions, their bodies dumped in mass graves. Being a member of the hostile class meant you would never get the benefit of the doubt. A sarcastic inflection when referring to Kim Il-sung or a nostalgic remark about South Korea could get you in serious trouble. It was especially taboo to talk about the Korean War and who started it. In the official histories (and there was nothing but official history in North Korea), it was the South Korean Army that invaded, acting on orders from the Americans, not the North Korean Army storming across the 38th parallel. “The U.S. imperialists gave the Syngman Rhee puppet clique an order to unleash a Korean War,” goes the account in Rodong Sinmun [the official DPRK newspaper]. Anybody who remembered what really happened on June 25, 1950 (and which Korean could forget?), knew it was wise to keep one’s mouth shut.

I felt sad several times as I read this book and saw parallels between North Korean “puppet clique” bombast and the kinds of arguments that some conservative Christians have employed. There’s a certain turn of mind which is given to this kind of invective; apparently it’s a human universal. The Korean Central News Agency has been nicknamed the “Great Vituperator,” but I know some Islamists and some professing Christians who went to the same school of rhetoric.

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Chronological Snobbery

April 2, 2010 — 1 Comment

I don’t want to be, but I think I’ve been stuck in what C.S. Lewis calls “chronological snobbery.”

I pick up an old book—most recently, Ferdinand de Saussure’s Course in General Linguistics—and I can’t really read it without my fingers crossed. I can never shake the suspicion that the science of whatever it is I’m reading about has progressed so far by now that I am wasting my time on old arguments.

I do not feel this way when reading Jonathan Edwards—or C.S. Lewis, for that matter. And I know in my head and heart that the latest book isn’t necessarily the best book. I want to escape the you’ve-got-to-read-this culture of the blogosphere—but I don’t want to, either. It’s so, well, beguiling. To be up on things is to have power other’s don’t. But, then again, the new books I have read recently have been genuinely helpful and edifying. And they speak my language.

Lewis said that he read old books on a regular basis in order to breathe the air of a different century, ventilating his own.

I need God’s wisdom to know what to read and when. He knows best what I need.