Kevin DeYoung's Blog, page 184

A Few Thoughts As We Move On

I figured after 10,000 words on Monday, I could take at least one day off from blogging.  I don't have much more to say about the Love Wins ordeal. (How could I? I already said 20 pages worth!). I don't want to make this the all things Rob Bell blog. Perhaps there will be time later to get the macro-picture on this "moment." For now, I'm ready to pay a lot less attention to the pastor from Mars Hill.

Tomorrow I'll post a video from R.C. Sproul on the curse motif. It was one of the highlights of T4G08. The video relates to this whole controversy. But more than that, it is a precious reminder of what Christ suffered for our sakes. I could do without some of the picture collage, but listening to Sproul on Galatians 3 will be worth 8 minutes of your Thursday.

Today, just a few brief thoughts on the Bell brouhaha before moving on.

1. This issue is especially pertinent to me because I grew up where Rob Bell lives (Grand Rapids) and live where Rob Bell grew up (Lansing). I know the church he grew up at (it's a normal evangelical church with some fine people there). And I remember buying baseball cards at the mall where Mars Hill now meets. I have people at my church that used to go to his church, and people from my home church that now go to his. Small world. Over the years, I've known many people that have attended Mars Hill at one time or another. Rob Bell's influence stretches across Michigan. It seems that most people I talk to have some family member or friend or second cousin that's gone to Mars Hill or loves Rob Bell's books. Although few, if any, in my congregation would say they are Rob Bell fans, many interact frequently with those who are. Clarity on the important issues he raises (and misunderstands) is absolutely necessary. Especially in the Mitten.

2. As many have noted, this blow up is probably more symptom than disease. This is not going to divide evangelicalism, but it may prove that evangelicalism is already divided. What is the biggest problem in the church: people can't stand us or we can't stand the gospel? What is the goal of theology: to paint an attractive picture of Jesus or to say what God has already said? What is our biggest failure: we've turned people off or we've compromised our beliefs? Does the future of evangelicalism lie with progressives who can adapt and change or with conservatives who remain faithful to the old paths? Are Christians today basically too mean or too cowardly? Is our God too big and scary or too small and puny? Of course, some will not like the way I've framed the options, but these are some of the issues going on under the surface.

3. At some point, people need precision in our thinking. Provocation has its place. Ambiguity serves a purpose. But the work of the preacher is to present the gospel in an open statement of the truth (2 Cor. 4:2). Sooner or later people in the media, people in the hospital bed, people in the pews want to know what we think. Conversation works in the foyer, but behind the pulpit clarity is king.

4. Through the past few weeks, the Lord has been teaching me a number of lessons. He's made me check my heart to see what my motivations are. I think they're good, but it's easy to write a 20-page review for all the wrong reasons. I've been reminded how serious the Christian gospel really is. Of course we want joy and there is a place for humor (Monday mornings for instance). But people need to see that these weighty issues weigh on us. Congregations need more Jonathan Edwards in their pastor than Jon Stewart.

5. Gospel preaching churches and gospel believing Christians need to do more to share the gospel. Preach it fifty-two Sundays. Get it out in a thousand ways. Pray for a million conversations. It starts with one person.

"Love Wins" Review on Monday

No Monday Morning Humor next week.

You may have heard that Rob Bell has a new book coming out. If you hadn't heard, welcome to the blogosphere. Nice to meet you.

Anyway, Monday is the day when Bell will unveil the book at a special "Live Global Event" in New York City. I'm finishing a lengthy review that will go up Monday morning. I'm working from an advanced reading copy of the book, so I trust the pagination lines up with the final release. Just to be sure, I'll double check the numbers on Tuesday.

On the one hand, it's possible to make too much of the whole Bellapolooza thing. Internet firestorms come and go. On the other hand, this is a significant time–with lots of Christians and non-Christians paying attention–to help show what the Bible teaches about God, the cross, heaven and hell. The book has potential to do great harm, but God may still use it for good, as an opportunity to teach, correct, and promote the truth.

Carl F.H. Henry: The Awesome Silences of Eternity

Carl F.H. Henry (1913-2003) was neo-evangelicalism's earliest theologian. He was also the first editor-in-chief at Christianity Today. It's a shame that his magnum opus, God, Revelation and Authority, is not more widely read. It is a dense and somewhat dated, but the theology still speaks forcefully and relevantly in many places.

This is one of those places:

God's most awesome silence in eternity will be his silence toward the lost, a punitive and retributive silence reserved for the wicked who are not on speaking terms with him. There are scholars who consider the eternal punishment of the wicked to be inconsistent with the nature of God. These critics tend to subordinate to divine love all the biblical passages about God's wrath, and ignore the fact that Jesus said even more about the pangs of hell than about the bliss of heaven, and moreover makes their duration coextensive and unending.

Millar Burrows is right in the verdict that "no basis" exists in Jesus' recorded sayings for the universalist notion that all humans will finally be saved: "So far as the evidence indicates, he thought of the punishment of the wicked as eternal" (An Outline of Biblical Theology, p. 211). Hell involves not only the continuance of the sinner's present condition of unhappiness, but also grievous punishment and irreversible exclusion from God's presence. Jesus did not hesitate to quote Isaiah 66:24, which implies eternal punishment in the flesh, and to use such characterizations as "out darkness" and "weeping and gnashing of teeth." Hell resounds with weeping and wailing: there it is not the sinner but rather God who is silent.

The New Testament has no doctrine of a "second chance"; its emphasis is rather that "everyone must die once, and after that be judged by God" (Heb. 9:27, TEV) or, as Phillips words the text, "it is appointed for all men to die once, and after that pass to their judgment." Nor does the New Testament anywhere condone the notion that the wicked will not survive this life into an afterlife. Such an end would mercifully terminate their existence, would spare them conscious separation from God and the punishment of the ungodly of which the Bible insistently speaks.

A fundamental Christian doctrine is that all departed souls will at the second coming of Christ be restored to bodily life; the redeemed will enter upon the life of heaven, the unredeemed will be excluded from it. The punishment of the wicked who in this life rejected the divine invitation to redemption will include conscious awareness of having spurned Christ's agony and death in their behalf. (Volume IV, 596-97)

One can hope that when Christianity Today, the magazine Henry helped start, reviews Rob Bell's new book, it sounds something like this.

"Through" Means "Through Faith"

Inclusivists believe that everyone who is saved is saved through the person and work of Christ. They do not, however, insist that conscious faith (on the part of sentient adults) is necessary to appropriate this saving work. Some Buddhists or Hindus or good people in our neighborhoods drawn to the true and the beautiful might be saved through Christ without knowing it. But what about John 14:6? Inclusivists understand "no one can come to the Father except through me" to mean through my saving work. Faith may not be necessary.

No doubt, it's true that no one can be saved apart from the work of Christ. But the "through" in John 14:6 means "through faith in me."

Look at the immediate context. Jesus begins the chapter by telling the disciples "believe in me" (14:1). Then verse 7 talks about knowing the Father by knowing the Son. Verse 9 makes clear that whoever sees Jesus has seen the Father. Verses 12 and 13 repeat the exhortation to believe in Jesus. The point of the whole section is that if you know/see/believe in Jesus you know the Father. And conversely, you cannot go to the Father or follow Jesus to his heavenly glory unless you know and believe in Son.

This reading of John 14 is confirmed by the broader purpose of the gospel, which is that John's readers might "believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name" (20:31). John's gospel is full of promises for those who believe.

Whoever believes in me shall never thirst (6:35).
Whoever believes in me, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water (7:38).
Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet he shall live (11:25).
I have come into the world as light, so that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness (12:46).

Likewise, there are dire warnings for those who do not believe in Christ.

Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son (3:18).
He who does not honor the Son does not honor the Father, who sent him (5:23).
You do not know me or my Father.  If you knew me, you would know my Father also (8:19).
If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now am here (8:42).

John 14:6 is not one verse taken out of context. It captures the message of the entire book of John. The whole gospel is an apologetic for conscious faith in Christ, faith that affirms certain propositions about Jesus, faith that believes he is the bread of life (6:35), the light of the world (8:12; 9:5), the gate for the sheep (10:7, 9), the good shepherd (10:11, 14), the resurrection and the life (11:25), and the true vine (15:1, 5).

Unless we believe that Christ is "he," the long awaited Messiah and heaven sent Son of God, we will die in our sins (8:24). Jesus could not make the point any clearer. "Through" means "through faith." Inclusivism and John 14:6 cannot be friends.

Charles Hodge: A Glad Guardian of the Faith

I'm really enjoying Paul Gutjahr's biography of Charles Hodge (OUP 2011). I have a long way to go, but having skipped around a bit, I already see two critical lessons for every Christian, especially pastors and teachers.

First, unchanging consistency in the service of truth is a virtue not a vice.

Critics of Hodge have long painted his comments about the Bible and the lack of originality at Princeton Seminary in the darkest hues possible, claiming that Princeton was hopelessly mired in its commitment to Reformed orthodoxy and biblical literalism. Hodge may have been a systematic thinker, but he certainly was not an innovative one. While the merits of such conclusions can be debated, such characterizations tend to devalue Hodge's greatest gift: his utter consistency of conviction. He was a man who had the rare ability to adhere to a set of doctrinal positions for an entire lifetime. For some, such consistency might show an inability to change and grow. To others, it signals a passionate ability to remain true to one's convictions. Taken in its original context, Hodge's comment does capture the very essence of the man. He was not interested in theological innovation because he believed it impossible to improve on orthodox belief. The only things that were new in orthodox theology were various heresies, and Hodge had no interest in distinguishing himself as a heretic. His role, and the role of the Seminary, had always been to be guardians of orthodoxy, not creators of new strains of Christian doctrine. (363, emphasis mine)

Second, as you guard the truth, do it gladly.

Hodge may have had an incredible mind, but he touched lives in a more profound way through his pious and benevolent character. Those who knew him well were quick to recall a man "luminous with the spirit of the indwelling Christ," and remembered him for his "[d]evout, reverent, sincere, fearless, intensely earnest and honest" character. Many agreed that his "genuine kindliness of heart and largeness of soul" challenged the Calvinist stereotypes of sternness and severity. Others recalled him as "the sweetest, gentlest and most lovable of men. His face itself was a benediction." Hodge's colleague William Green reminded those who had known Hodge of his "cheerful affability, rising at times into hilarity." Hodge had loved to laugh, and he liked nothing better than a good joke or a humorous story. The editor of one journal wrote that he had "seldom seen a man more genial and attractive than this representative of the American Presbyterians" and that his "parlour-study [was] one of the cheeriest glimpses" he had ever had of the inside of an American home. In summing up Hodge, Lyman Atwater noted that there were precious "few men who had so many elements of greatness, with so little that one could wish otherwise." Posterity might remember Hodge for his magnificent mind, but for those who know him best, what set him apart was his even-more-magnificent heart. (375, emphasis mine)

I like Hodge more and more with every page.

Doing Good, But a Little Less Than Others

I hope this post comes across the right way. It could be construed as self-congratulatory, but I really mean it to be just the opposite.

At the end of each month I usually list the books I've read and give a brief evaluation of each. I dropped this habit for a couple months, thinking it proud (or at least worried it may be thought proud) until some friends told me I should pick it up again. As I explained awhile back, I think they're right. Most people reading this blog like books and most are probably interested in getting book recommendations and evaluations. So I put up my February list last week.

But I also know this is dangerous. I could seem proud (or be proud!) for reading books. And you might feel discouraged if you don't read as much. Christians (who can read) should read good books. Pastors especially should be readers. But the number of books read are not the measure of Christian maturity or faithfulness. Maybe you read slowly. Maybe you have little access to books or few resources to purchase them. Maybe you are busy with a job, kids and invalid mother and have no time in this season of life for serious reading.

Or maybe you are better at other things.

Here's one of the hardest truths for Christians to understand, let alone embrace: some of us will do more of a particular good thing than others and some will do less. And the difference may not be sinful.

I have struggled with this over the years. I remember in seminary noticing that the prayer room was often occupied very early in the morning, and for long stretches, by a few of the same students (all Koreans as I recall). I prayed in the morning too, but not as long. I didn't feel like a complete failure in prayer, but compared to these brothers I felt like a slacker. Prayer is a good thing. They were praying more than I was. Therefore I felt like I must be a worse Christian if I did not pray as much.

I'll give another example. Years ago I was talking with a young man who was particularly moved by a need in the community. The Spirit was at work in this man's life. He was growing quickly in the Lord. When he heard of the need he wanted to respond immediately and radically. So he gave his car away to the person in need. He wasn't boastful about it. He wasn't insisting others do the same. I'm glad he acted radically, even foolishly by human standards. And yet, I think it was hard for others not to feel a tinge of guilt. "Boy, I still have my car. What kind of Christian am I?" That wasn't his problem, but everyone else's.

Is a Little Less Always a Little Worse?

So is it ever acceptable for Christian A to do less of a good thing than Christian B? Most of us will say yes, and yet we feel like we should probably also feel a little guilty if we are Christian A. Or, we find a way to judge Christian B to get rid of our low-level guilt. Or, when we are Christian B, we add a little guilt to Christian A for not doing the same good things we are doing.

Sometimes those who are great examples of great things make the mistake of insisting that everyone excel in the same ways they do. A Christian brother throws out his T.V. and looks down on those who still watch ESPN. A sister decides only to buy from the thrift store and bludgeons her friends into doing the same. A friend decides to read through Calvin's Institutes in a year and exhorts his small group that if they were serious about growing in their faith they would do it too. These are made up examples, but they're probably real somewhere. When we get fired up about a particular good cause, good idea, or good read, we think everyone else should be too. But isn't it ok, on some matters, that our conscience and convictions and capabilities lead us down different paths of passion?

This is especially tricky because some behaviors are commanded of everyone in Scripture, and yet are also considered special gifts for only some. We should all contribute to the needs of the saints (Rom. 13:13), but some have the gift of generosity (v. 8). We should all serve (v. 11), but some will be particularly gifted in serving (v. 7). We won't all be as good or zealous about the same things. This is by divine design. Our gifts will differ according to the grace given us (v. 6).

All Aboard the Reading Rainbow?

Which brings me back to books. I don't think everyone (or anyone actually) needs to read all the books I read. I love to read. I do it whenever I get the chance. It isn't hard for me to read books. It's not hard to write about them either (though finding the time to do so can be). People who know me usually say studying and teaching are some of my gifts. So I'm bound to read more books than most people in a month. Hopefully I put that reading to good use for the body of Christ.

But I don't have as many stories of personal evangelism as I'd like. I get some once in awhile, but they are few and far between. Many others are more gifted in evangelism. Does that mean I chalk up personal evangelism as "not my gift" and never do it? Of course not. I pray regularly for nonbelievers in my life and pray for opportunities to talk about Christ. But if I hear of someone who shared his faith 20 times in a month and I can only count 1, I try not to necessarily conclude that I'm failure as a Christian.

I've written on similar themes before so it must be this is a perennial issue for me. I'm always trying to figure out how I can possibly be obedient to all that the Lord seems to want from us. At times it feels like God expects us to be 24-7 prayer warriors with a commitment to social justice and involvement in the pro-life cause and lead lengthy family devotions and mentor a young Christian and read five Christian books a month and work through Operation World and adopt a child from Africa. Have you ever thought, "Lord, I don't have enough hours in the day to be obedient to all that you expect from me?" If you have, something is wrong with the way you use your hours or with your sense of God's expectations.

I fear many of us are prone to taking our gifts and passions and putting them on everyone else as hard and fast commands. And on the flip side, many of us put the expectation upon ourselves. We simply don't know what to do with another Christian who prays more or gives more or does more for the poor or reads more or writes more or mentors more. We have no category that allows for one Christian to do more of a good thing than we do without feeling guilty for how we measure up.

Some Possible Ways to Do Good, While Some Do More of It

And yet, I know the second I think this way I'm also liable to justify disobedience or quench the Spirit's conviction in some area. There's no easy answer to this dilemma. I don't have it all figured out. But here are a few thoughts that help.

1. Most importantly, any lasting obedience must grow out of the gospel. Trying to measure up or get rid of low-level guilt are not good motivations for radical sacrifice. We read and give and go overseas and evangelize and feed the poor and adopt orphans and get up early to pray and mentor college students and write blogs because we have nothing to prove, nothing to earn, and nothing to do except glorify God in a million different ways and enjoy him forever.

2. At Lausanne 2010, John Piper told the audience (I'm paraphrasing), "We should care about all suffering, especially eternal suffering." He said the word "care" was chosen, well, carefully. He didn't want to say we should do something about all suffering. Because we can't do something about everything. But we can care. This means that when we hear about grinding poverty or legal abortion or biblical illiteracy we are not indifferent. We think and feel that this ought not to be so. We won't all care about every issue in the same way, but there are many issues all Christians should care about. When we don't give a rip about sex slaves or gospel-less preaching, then something is wrong with our hearts.

3. We must allow for various callings and various gifts (see discussion above). We need Christians who will spend their lives to improve inner city school and we need Christians who will labor for decades to provide good theological resources in Polish. And we the one Christian not to make the other feel guilty and the other not feel guilty by the presence of the one.

4. Don't forget about the church. The work to be done in the world is Christ's work. And Christ works through his body, corporately in word and sacrament, individually in a million other areas of life. I can't do it all, but the church—both gathered and scattered, the church as institution and as organism—can do all that the head of the body expects her to do.

5. Lastly, we should pray. Of course, this can become the biggest unrealistic burden of all. No human can pray for all the needs in the world. You simply can't pray for everything that everyone will ever ask you to pray for. You certainly can't pray for it all on a sustained basis. But here's a couple suggestions.

a) We can pray short, immediate prayers when God brings something or someone to our attention. You may or may not put New Zealand on your prayer card, but when you hear about the devastation, you can offer up a quick prayer to the Lord.

b) You may want to add some general categories to your daily, weekly, or monthly prayer list. For example, I try to pray about abortion once a week. On a different day I have "widows and orphans" written down. On another day of the week I'll pray for the governing authorities. Daily I try to pray for opportunities to evangelize. I can't pray for everything under the sun, but by using some broad categories hopefully I avoid ignoring the most important themes that matter to God.

Radical Devotion, In Various Ways

All of this is simply a long-winded way of saying: don't feel bad if you don't read hundreds (or a dozen) books a year. I'll keep reading and hopefully it will serve the church. You keep doing the things you can do best. And for all the other things, let's pray that God gives us the double grace to grow where we can and also to joyfully accept that different Christians will have different passions and different callings. The difference itself is according to his grace and, if embraced with the right attitude in service to the church, will be for God's everlasting glory.

Monday Morning Humor

HT: 22 Words

Waffling Over Hell

David Hansen:

There is an important place in the ministry for honest questioning over doctrinal issues. But I'm not proud of my tossing and turning over hell. Some pastors wear their agnosticism about hell as a badge of honor. I've tried it. I've acted as if struggling to believe our Lord's words were a virtue. But I always found that when I became proud of my doubts, they suddenly become the sin of unbelief. For me, finally, waffling over hell became the sin of unbelief. (The Art of Pastoring, 78)

On a related note, if you want to look into inclusivism and understand its deficiencies, I highly recommend:

Faith Comes by Hearing: A Response to Inclusivism by Christopher Morgan and Robert Peterson

Jesus, The Only Way to God: Must You Hear the Gospel to Be Saved? by John Piper

The Making of American Liberal Theology

The Making of American Liberal Theology Imagining Progressive Religion 1805-1900 (WJK 2001) is the first volume of Gary Dorrien's magisterial three volume series on the history of American liberalism. I don't know much about Dorrien except that when he began the series he was at Kalamazoo College and now he is at Union Theological Seminary. From what I've read (and I did not read every page), he is sympathetic to liberalism (hence the position at Union), but also fair and clear. I doubt that many evangelicals need to read these volumes, but some pastors and students may want to have them as reference material on their shelves.

So what is liberalism?

Like any "ism" it's diverse and not easy to define. But certain characteristics shine through in Dorrien's narrative. For the sake of historical accuracy and for the sake of spotting recurring themes in the contemporary church, it's important to understand something about the basic themes of liberal theology (note: the headings are mine, all the indented text is from the book).

1. True religion is not based on external authority

The idea of liberal theology is nearly three centuries old. In essence, it is the idea that Christian theology can be genuinely Christian without being based upon external authority. Since the eighteenth century, liberal Christian thinkers have argued that religion should be modern and progressive and that the meaning of Christianity should be interpreted from the standpoint of modern knowledge and experience. (xii)

What's more, Dorrien recognizes this rejection is something new in the history of the church.

Before the modern period, all Christian theologies were constructed within a house of authority. All premodern Christian theologies made claims to authority-based orthodoxy. Even the mystical and mythopoetic theologies produced by premodern Christianity took for granted the view of scripture as an infallible revelation and the view of theology as an explication of propositional revelation. Adopting the scholastic methods of their Catholic adversaries, Protestant theologians formalized these assumptions with scholastic precision during the seventeenth century. Not coincidentally, the age of religious wars that preceded the Enlightenment is also remembered as the age of orthodoxy.

Reformed and Lutheran orthodoxy heightened the Reformation principle that scripture is the sole and infallibly sufficient rule of faith, teaching that scripture is also strictly inerrant in all that it asserts. (xv)

Note that Dorrien does not believe inerrancy was a Princetonian invention.

2. Christianity is a movement of social reconstruction.

One of the most influential definitions of theological liberalism was offered in 1949 by an able latter-day proponent, Daniel Day Williams: "By 'liberal theology' I mean the movement in modern Protestantism which during the nineteenth century tried to bring Christian thought into organic unity with the evolutionary world view, the movements from social reconstruction, and the expectations of 'a better world' which dominated the general mind. It is that form of Christian faith in which a prophetic-progressive philosophy of history culminates in the expectation of the coming of the Kingdom of God on earth." (xiv)

3. Christianity must be credible and relevant.

Specifically, liberal theology is defined by its openness to the verdicts of modern intellectual inquiry, especially the nature and social sciences; its commitment to the authority of individual reason and experience; its conception of Christianity as an ethical way of life; its favoring of moral concepts of atonement; and its commitment to make Christianity credible and socially relevant to modern people. (xxiii)

4. Truth can be know only through changing symbols and forms.

Bushnell admonished that "all our difficulties and controversies" regarding the truths of revelation were caused by a basic failure to face up to what was known about the clothing of truths in signs and analogies. The problem was not peculiar to New England theology, he suggested; it was an "almost universal sin that infests the reasonings of mankind concerning moral and spiritual subjects." Throughout the world, people treated the symbolic forms of their truths as the truths themselves. (151)

5. Theological controversy is about language, not about truth.

Bushnell debated various doctrinal points with his adversaries, claiming always that their disagreements were about language usage, not lack of belief: "All my supposed heresies, in reference to these great subjects, are caused by the arrest of speculation and the disallowance of those constructive judgments, or a priori arguments, by which terms that are only analogies, and mysteries that are most significant when taken only as symbols, are made to affirm something wiser and more exact than what they express." (151-52)

6. The historical accuracies of biblical facts and events are not crucial, so long as we meet Jesus in the pages of Scripture.

He cautioned that the faithful reader of scripture is not obliged to assume the truth of the Gospel narrative "by which the manner and facts of the life of Jesus are reported to us." That was the matter in question, "We only assume the representations themselves, as being just what they are, and discover their necessary truth, in the transcendent, wondrously self-evident, picture of divine excellence and beauty exhibited in them." Bushnell counseled that the biblical narrative is not very impressive aside from the extraordinary character of its pivotal figure, but the more that we study the figure of Jesus, "a picture shining in its own clear sunlight upon us," the more clearly we are brought into the source and light of all truth: "Jesus, the Divine Word, coming out from God, to be incarnate with us, and be the vehicle of God and salvation to the race." (399)

7. The true religion is the way of Christ, not any particular doctrines about Christ.

The Word of Christ is not a doctrine or the end of an argument, but a self-authenticating life; it is morally regenerative spiritual power claimed in Christ's spirit…Moving beyond their mentor, the Bushnellians accented the humanity of Christ; Munger and Gladden lifted Jesus' teaching above any claims about his person. In both cases, however, a self-authenticating moral image conceived as the power of true religion was in control. The true religion is the way of Christ. (399-400)

Dorrien observes that this kind of religion was a departure from historic orthodoxy.

Traditional Protestant orthodoxies place the substitutionary atonement of Christ at the center of Christianity, conceiving Christ's death as a propitiatory sacrifice that vicariously satisfied the retributive demands of divine justice. (400)

The new progressive religion of liberalism understood Christianity quite differently.

By the end of Beecher's life, it was almost prosaic for Munger and Gladden to assert that Christianity is essentially a life, not a doctrine. (405)

Liberalism is not a swear word to be thrown around. It is a diverse, but identifiable approach to Christianity, one that differs significantly from historic orthodoxy, not to mention evangelicalism and fundamentalism.  Liberals believe they are making Christianity relevant, credible, beneficial, and humane. Evangelicals in the line J. Gresham Machen believe they are making something other than Christianity.

As Shakespeare put it, "Ay, there's the rub."

So You Are Thinking of Going to Seminary?

I will speaking at Gordon-Conwell later today. This has me thinking about seminary. Here are a few questions to ask before you go, as you decide where to go, and while you are there.

Three Questions Before You Go

1. Might you benefit from more experience in the "real world" first? Many students will graduate from college and head off to seminary. This is what I did, so far be it from me to suggest you have to work a "real job" for three years before going. But for many students, seminary will be richer and more helpful with a little more life experience.

2. Will your seminary education be going toward some end which requires such a seminary degree? Graduate school costs money, money you probably don't have. With so many Christian books, conferences, and online resources these days, you can learn a whole lot on your own. If you are going to seminary because you love Jesus and love the Bible, that's wonderful, but you may want to consider if there are less costly, less time-consuming, less disruptive ways to keep learning and growing.

3. Are you prepared for a largely academic approach to learning? I am all for academics. I think seminary course work should be challenging. But writing long papers, taking tests, listening to lectures, and reading thousands of pages is not for everyone. Seminary is not like a three year Passion Conference. It is like graduate school. Know what you're getting in to.

Three Questions as You Decide Where to Go

1. Have you thought about the tradition you want to be a part of? Seminary does not set your trajectory for life, but it will immerse you in a certain culture and tradition. Southern is a good seminary; so is Westminster, so is Trinity. But one will put you in the middle of SBC life, another into the Presbyterian and Reformed world, and another more broadly into evangelicalism (and the Evangelical Free Church). Think about where you're from and where you want to end up.

2. What is the community like? No seminary aims for lousy community, but some schools are largely commuter campuses while others have a dorm atmosphere that feels like an extension of college. Know what you're looking for.

3. Are there certain professors you want to learn from? It's hard for seminaries to be much better (or much worse) than the faculty they employ. One of the reasons I went to Gordon-Conwell was to take classes from David Wells. I was not disappointed. Think about whom you respect and want to be with for 3-5 years.

Three Questions While You're at Seminary

1. Have I found a good local church? I loved seminary, but without a ground in the local church, you can lose your bearing. You'll run the risk of being over-intellectual and disconnected from life-on-life ministry. Plus, if you aren't actively involved in a church you won't be able to discern whether pastoral ministry is really for you.

2. Are you expecting for seminary to be something it's not? Most seminaries try hard to provide hands-on learning and make the coursework useful for pastoral ministry. But it can't replace an internship or on the job training. Don't get down on seminary because it's a lot of note taking and paper writing. What did you expect?

3. Are you ok being yourself? Not every student can be the star student. Not every student can be the guitar hero. Not every student can be the guy with experience in 15 countries who speaks 4 languages. That's ok. Be yourself. Beware of pride, unhealthy competition, and jealousy. Say with Paul, by the grace of God I am what I am.