Really?
A little Friday humor…from the ATL.
A little Friday humor…from the ATL.
I’m too tired to write much tonight, so I’ll share some good reading with you.
John Piper has written a compelling article entitled “The Morning I Heard the Voice of God.” I read it with a great deal of discomfort. That was convicting! But I finished it in deep worship of God.
Anthony Carter shares his recent talk at a men’s retreat calling them to have “a bigger, better, more biblical picture of God.”
Van Edwards gives us a glimpse into his personal worship of God in reading through Exodus.
Dan Barber, a friend of mine studying at Covenant Theological Seminary, has done his homework in dealing with the recent “discovery” of Jesus’ tomb. Click here to read it. Dr. Steve Cowan of the Apologetics Resource Center has also written on this subject.
Steve Camp has written a two-part series (so far) entitled “There is none like Him: recovering a high view and reverence of God.” Part 1 | Part 2
J.W. Hendryx has written “Jesus Christ: The Interpretive Key to the Scripture.”
Finally, Glenn Lucke shares his tribute to Dustin Salter, a young RUF pastor who recently died. I did not know Dustin but I know several people who knew him and whose lives have been impacted by his ministry.
There are some days you just need some Napoleon. I get a little bit every day, thanks to a handy desk calendar. I thought I should share some favorites:
There’s a lot more where this came from if you go to the dance with me. –Yours Truly, Napoleon Dynamite
So, uh, how does the dealio sound to you? –Uncle Rico
Do you think I got where I am today because I dress like Peter Pan here? –Rex
You know, like numchuck skills, bow-hunting skills, computer hacking skills. Girls only want boyfriends who have great skills. –Napoleon
Pedro: Like, what are my skills?
Napoleon: Well, you have a sweet bike…and you’re really good at hookin’ up with chicks. Plus you’re, like, the only guy at school who has a mustache.
Pedro: That’s true.
Uncle Rico: You ever come across anything like time travel?
Kip: Easy. I’ve already looked into it for myself.
Uncle Rico: Right on. Right on.
Pedro: If I win, you can be my secretary or something.
Napoleon: Sweet! Plus I could be your bodyguard, too. Or, like, Secret Service captain or…whatever.
She says she doesn’t want you here when she gets back because you’ve been ruining everybody’s lives and eatin’ all our steak! –Napoleon
Napoleon: How long did it take you to grow that mustache?
Pedro: A couple of days.
Napoleon: I wish I could grow one. Are you gonna eat your tots?
Grandma: How was school?
Napoleon: The worst day of my life. What do you think?
Here are some coupons from Dell you can use to save some dough. The coupons are good for the dates above or until supplies run out or the maximum number of coupons are used.
After writing a piece (again, not meant to be exhaustive or systematic, just anecdotal) on why I hold to Covenant Theology, a good friend of mine (Van Edwards) commented, “So when I read this, should I interpret it as a literal allegory or allegorically literal?” I’m sure it was tongue-in-cheek. But it prompted me in just as much fun to write a little prod back. However, I thought I’d write a bit more, mostly for myself, but if it can help to carry a dialogue along with anyone else, then good!
I think what Van is getting at in his comment is, if I consent that some Scripture should be understood allegorically, then how do I know what Scripture that is, and what Scripture that is not. However, my jab back to him and my thought now is, “Isn’t that a fair question for the Dispensationalist as well?” First, I have not found a Covenant Theologian (in my circles…namely, conservative) that would not hold to the view that Scripture should be interpreted literally where possible. That is to say, unless there is a reason to interpret it non-literally, then it should be understood literally. The Dispensationalists that I’ve been under and those whose books I’ve read say the same thing. The difference between both groups is what Scripture is to be understood literally.
From my Covenantal viewpoint, I come to prophecy not for a detailed roadmap, but for hope (Isa. 40:1; Luke 21:28; 1 Thess. 4:18, 5:11). When I consider many of the prophecies in the Old Testament that speak to the coming Messiah, I see some details revealed (that were literally fulfilled, although the readers didn’t get it any more than Jesus’ contemporaries…even after He pointed them out) that point to how Jesus came, lived and died. However, most of the prophecy was speaking to give God’s people hope, and to point them to the object of their faith. If we see through a glass dimly, they were looking through a really, really dim glass. We look back at OT prophecy about the Messiah, and say, “It’s so clear!” Now when we consider the return of Christ, we are in their shoes. But we don’t have a detailed roadmap (in my opinion). Rather we have an overview of the overall movement.
Other than prophecy, we (Covenant Theologians) and Dispensationalists share much in common. This is why our libraries look so similar and we often attend the same conferences. It really comes down to how we approach prophetical Scripture, and more specifically who is/are God’s people(s) and what will the end look like. Dispensationalists like to say it is hermeneutics. They accuse Covenantal folks of interpreting Scripture allegorically. But again, find a conservative CT who treats any/all Scripture allegorically. I haven’t found one. Rather, I’ve found only those who come to certain types of Biblical writing (literary types) with allegorical glasses (such as poetry).
So is it hermeneutics or the system of theology that triumphs the Dispensational cause? The ones who I’ve talked with over the years argued they, as Dispensationalists, don’t teach theology. They teach Scripture. And they do so literally. Consistently literally. But this never seemed right to me. First, what bothered me about this was logic. As I grew older I came to realize that no one comes to anything they study without predispositions toward a system of understanding. This same argument is one we use for those trying to prove evolution. They come to every “scientific” study they conduct with a predisposition toward their system of “evolutionism.” We all do this. The Dispensationalist argues that his system is simply the Bible, and the literal interpretation of that. Okay then, that’s your system. But then can your system triumph the actual meaning of the text? I say, from logic alone, “yes!” For example, when Christ said at the Last Supper, “This is my body,” was it literally body or literally bread? Now I’m not trying to stir up a debate here of Lutheran type. My point is, what did Christ literally mean and what does it literally mean for us? Most Dispensationalists say communion (the Lord’s Supper) is a memorial. It’s not literally Christ’s flesh. To use a prophetic example, what about Ezekiel’s valley of dry bones? What about when Jeremiah said he would remove their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh? (that was Jeremiah wasn’t it…it’s getting late!) Even Darby stated that John 14:18 spoke of an invisible coming of the Holy Spirit (not visible or “literal”).
Recently, I listened to a speech by John MacArthur (entitled, “Why Every Self-Respecting Calvinist is a Pre-Millennialist”). In this talk, he laid out the premise that if your hermeneutic is correct, they you’ll get
The second issue that has bothered me about the Dispensationalists’ claim to interpret Scripture consistently literally (the first was logic) is from Scripture itself. As I have pointed out above, there are a number of passages that Dispensationalists do not interpret literally. I will cite only one (since I have pointed out others above and even more are readily available in writings by scholars who merit more attention than my own ramblings). I refer to Psalm 22. In this psalm, there are portions that were literally fulfilled. Christ did cry out, “my God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Soldiers did cast lots for his clothing. But Christ is not a worm (v. 6), nor did bulls surround him (v. 12), nor dogs (v. 16), nor was He afraid of the mouth of an actual lion (v. 21). My point here is that the audience of that day would not have known what portion of that prophetic psalm was to be viewed literally and what was to be viewed allegorically. A point was simply that the Messiah would suffer and die. His death would be one in innocence. This passage doesn’t give a detailed roadmap (although we understand the details in hindsight, but those that were literally fulfilled and those that were allegorical).
So while the Dispensationalist is driven by a theological system of God working inconsistently through history, Covenant Theologians are driven by a system of one single unified movement of God unfolded in history. It is the latter that I hold to. I admit I am no less objective (nor more) than the Dispensationalist when it comes to hermeneutics. Rather, we are both influenced and sometimes driven by our theological system. And so to answer my friend Van, interpret what I am saying literally, unless you deem that it must be taken allegorically!
I’ve recently been questioned as to how I came to hold to Covenant Theology. It’s a good question for me to try and answer. I didn’t grow up in a Covenantal context. Rather, I grew up in a Dispensational Bible church. In that church I was given a healthy, weekly dose of biblical exposition. It was usually morning and evening, and often in Sunday School. I don’t remember learning the system of Dispensationalism, but I certainly heard from it consistently.
When I left home to join the Navy, my father gave me a copy of J.I. Packer’s Knowing God. I didn’t enjoy reading much, and really had no love for theology. But because of the stresses of leaving home and having my faith questioned regularly by others, I dove in head first into this book. There were some hard truths within those pages. I didn’t know it was written from a Covenantal perspective. I simply recognized the truths within the book that I had been taught from Scripture all my life. I spent nearly a year reading it, often rereading pages until I understood them.
Soon after that, I got plugged into a PCA church in Hawaii where I was stationed. There I began to interact with Reformed theology, from a Covenantal perspective. I didn’t recognize so much the hermeneutical system as I did the truths within Reformed theology. I soon was able to wholeheartedly agree with Calvinism and Reformed theology. But I still wrestled with the system of hermeneutics (although I couldn’t necessarily articulate it). Dispensational thought was engrained within me, even though I didn’t know it. So when it came to eschatology and my view of the Church, I still had Dispensational leanings.
After leaving the Navy I served in a Southern Baptist church. There, I continued to study authors like R.C. Sproul, J.I. Packer, and other Reformed guys. I really had to defend being Reformed and that caused me to be more convinced of my beliefs. But Dispensational thoughts were still there.
From there, I returned to serve in the church I grew up in. I was Associate Pastor there for three years. It was during this time that I really began to look at hermeneutical systems. As I considered Dispensationalism, and I was certainly being encouraged to adopt this system, I became more and more frustrated. I liked many things about it, such as the literal approach to Scripture and the seemingly convincing eschatology. This was of course due to the fact that I was taught there that Covenant Theology treated Scripture allegorically and that it was nearly heretical to consider the Church as the fulfillment of Old Testament Israel. But the system itself still did not gel for me. One of the significant factors was the fact that many, if not most, of the authors I respected (and even those within this church respected) came from a Covenantal perspective. Because I wasn’t convinced of Dispensationalism, I felt compelled to study Covenant Theology more deeply.
I went from that church to Birmingham Theological Seminary where I pursued my Master of Divinity. It was during these years that I saw clearly several things about Covenant Theology. First, the Covenantal view of one God, with one people, and one means of salvation seemed consistent not only with Scripture in particular but seemed more consistent to God’s very nature. Although I struggled to articulate it, it seemed strange that God would have two people. This distinction, as engrained as it was in my head from birth, seemed inconsistent as I read not only the New Testament, but also as I studied the Old Testament. The way I began to understand it, the nation of Israel was the infancy of God’s revelation of His people, just as the Law had been given as a tutor to this infant people. As Christ came and fulfilled all that the Old Testament prophesied, so the expansion of His people went from infant Israel, to the adult Church. It is one and the same people. Covenant Theology teaches not that the Church replaces Israel, but that the Church is the further revelation of God’s people. Secondly, I learned that the difference between Covenant Theology and Dispensationalism wasn’t a literal hermeneutic versus an allegorical one, but rather what each system considers literal. Covenant Theology uses a literal hermeneutic. It treats Scripture that is to be understood literally, as literal. The difference is that Covenant Theology and Dispensationalism disagree over those portions which are to be understood allegorically. Certainly, Dispensationalists don’t treat every word of Scripture literally. They simply disagree with us as to what is to be understood literally and what is allegorical.
I’m not writing this to be an exhaustive treatise on Covenant Theology. It’s simply my story. And at this point of that story, Covenant Theology just makes sense to me. This doesn’t mean that I have it all sorted out. I don’t. Although I’m Covenantal, I’m still quite sympathetic to Historical Premillennialism, for example. I wouldn’t say that I hold to this view of eschatology, but I’m still open to it. And that is quite acceptable in my denomination, the PCA. In fact, a number of pastors and professors I have set under hold to Historical Premillennialism. I’m still studying Amillennialism, however, as well.
So, I can clearly say at this point that I am Reformed, a Calvinist, and that I hold to Covenant Theology. Each of these perspectives has caused my love and faith in God to grow to a deeper level, and I have a stronger desire to see His glory shine as a result. And so, until I am convinced from Scripture otherwise, I’ll stand here. To read a more “scholarly” (and I use that term very lightly) approach to Covenant Theology versus Dispensationalism, I have posted it here in three parts: Part I, Part II, and Part III.
I hate everything about death. It’s ugly. I don’t know of a better word. At least that’s my earthly, selfish perspective. I know I must take these thoughts captive. In reality, death is a passing from this life to real life. At least it is for the believer. But from where I sit, death brings grief. Sure, it’s not grief without hope, but it’s grief nonetheless.
Last night my great Aunt Verna died in her sleep. I’m thankful that she died this way, but I hate that she died. She’s gone. And for our family, she is the last of a generation on my mom’s side to die. I feel like we’ve lost touch with that generation. My kids will never know about my memories, except for the stories I tell. They will never know sitting in her kitchen while she cooked tapioca on the stove. They won’t know how she made sun tea or the little boxes of cereal she always had to offer us for breakfast. They won’t know sitting beside her at her organ or hearing about her travels with Uncle Joe. They won’t know the warmth of her home. Those days are gone.
The same is true with both of my grandparents on my mom’s side. In the past five years both grandparents and both Uncle Joe and Aunt Verna have died. It’s been a time of grief for us.
I’m thankful for the hope we have that each of them put their faith in Christ alone as their savior. We grieve with this hope in mind. But we still grieve. It’s especially hard for mom as Aunt Verna was like a second mom to her. She and Uncle Joe were like grandparents to us. I thought this was normal growing up. I thought everyone had a “Uncle Joe & Aunt Verna.” But we had something special, and I was too old before I really recognized this. So for me there are regrets. I’m thankful for the times I had with them, but I wish I had treasure them more. The visits in the summer, the rides on the tandem bike, flying kites, birthday cards and visits when they came to our house.
Death is a part of life. It has become more a part of my life in recent years. In the past two weeks alone my great Aunt died, my friend lost his good friend Dustin (who left a wife and three young children), my sister and brother-in-law’s friends lost their three-year-old daughter in her sleep, another friend of mine lost his son who was killed by a drunk driver. The separation that results causes a break in life. It changes life. But in as much as it focuses my thoughts on the effect of sin in this world, it ultimately points me to Christ and what He did to conquer death. Death’s sting is gone. It still stings, but the eternal sting is removed. The sting is only temporary. As a believer I know there will be a reuniting. This is not the end.
Still I hate what death does to us. It divides us. It scares us. It hurts us. But still, in the midst of all of this, it points us to our dependence on Christ. Even when we hurt, we are strengthened by Christ’s presence with us here. How terrible it would be to not know His presence in this grief. Emptyness would prevail.
Emptyness does not prevail though, for me. Not because of any good thought or act of mine. Emptyness is there because I’m human. I can no longer talk with Aunt Verna, Uncle Joe, my grandparents or Aunt Tommae. They’re all gone. A piece of my life is gone. But my life is not emptied because of their death. The holes they left are ministered to by the grace of Christ through His Spirit.
So when I see an organ, a box of tapioca or a miniature box of cereal, an owl, or even a woven purse I will think of Aunt Verna. I will thank God for the life she lived in faith, for the ways she gave, for the love she shared. But thanks to God she now lives to the fullest with her faith now made complete, she has now been given everything she needs and she now shares the greatest love with her Heavenly Father completely. Aunt Verna, because of your faith in Christ, enjoy your reward!
Anthony Carter has voiced some questions on humility around some thoughts on the recent performance of rapper Curtis “Voice” Allen at Bethlehem Baptist Church (see “Rapper in the Pulpit“). The question is a good one, namely, can a person say they are being humble and still be humble? It reminds me of statements like “How to be humble like me” and “Humility: And how I achieved it.” All joking aside, I think Voice is simply expressing his desire to respond to recent criticism in humility. I’ll let God sort it out. But I will say that humility is a difficult subject to talk about in personal terms. We can talk about our struggle to be humble (that sounds humble), and we can talk about humility in non-personal terms (Christians should be humble), but to say anything in personal terms about one’s own humility begins to sound…well, a bit un-humble. So, in my own humble opinion, we should read and talk with humility about others discussing their own humility.
My pastor is preaching through a series about humility and during the benediction one Sunday he inferred something to the effect of taking pride in your humility. That’s a tough one to get your hands around. I understood what he was saying, or trying to say. But it’s difficult to encourage people to embrace humility. As humans, when we embrace anything that personally characterizes us we walk a fine line between humility and pride. And so I think it might be best to say “be humble, but in your humility keep your eyes fixed on Jesus in dependence.” Humility and independence don’t go together. So all that to say, I think Voice can talk about his reaction to criticism as being humble as long as he does so pointing to Christ’s enablement.
If you’ve never heard funk music put to bluegrass, then you need to hear Bruce Hornsby, Ricky Skaggs and John Anderson do Superfreak:
If you haven’t given a nod to your favorite Republican candidate, today is the last day to do so. Just visit GOP Nation. You don’t have to register, just click “Fred Thompson” and hit submit.
And here’s another opportunity to vote for Fred Thompson.
My son has been bugging me to read a book to him for the past two nights. Last night, I finally read Skippyjon Jones to him. It’s about a cat that thinks he’s a chihuahua and I believe it’s the funniest childrens’ book I’ve read.
Steve Camp has written an interesting article about Al Mohler’s recent comments regarding sin and genetics.
If only this story were true!
I think it’d be fun to wear this t-shirt.