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(See below for larger images).  Yes, that’s right, I’m quickly spiraling down the path of idolatry.  Actually, this is my final project for my “Art and the Bible” class.  (I included the second picture for those of you who are particularly offended by images of Jesus).  Seriously, though, I’m with Sproul on this one.  There is nothing inherently evil about this sort of religious imagery (although I do think there are superior forms of art).  And as long as I’m not worsh…er…venerating it, or thinking that whatever honor I bestow upon this piece of painted canvas I’m actually bestowing upon Christ, I see no harm in it.  You can be Reformed without being an iconoclast.  And Sproul actually contends that even Calvin thought of many of his iconoclastic policies as being merely provisional, until people got over their Roman tendencies to turn the art into idols.

More than that, though, Protestantism has done itself a great disservice by marginalizing art.  We can’t have anything too beautiful in the sanctuary because it would be distracting from worship.  Aside from the obvious reality that people will space out during the sermon no matter how ugly the room is, I wonder why we don’t go all the way and start learning mediation techniques to clear our minds of all possible thoughts and images that could distract us.   This seems more consistent.  Instead, we have artistic people in the church who can’t find any way to put their God-given gifts to use in an explicitly religious way that is beneficial to the church community.  We either force them to suppress their talents, channel them into something more practical like architecture (but don’t get any ideas about making our church building look too fancy!), or they just end up producing the kind of schmaltzy  paintings that you see on Christian greeting cards.  Or worse, we chase them off and they end up converting to Roman Catholicism where their talents are appreciated.  Don’t get me wrong, that’s a bad reason to become a Catholic, but we shouldn’t be forcing our Protestant artists into that position in the first place.

I just think it’s time we stopped being afraid of a robust religious art and started being as concerned with beauty in the church as we are with truth.  

(Oh, by the way, I’m not an artist or the son of an artist, so I’m aware that my painting is pretty lame.  Please don’t feel the need to point that out to me :P )

When it comes to the gender debate, we must always keep sight of the Biblical picture of leadership.  Egalitarians frequently argue that our focus should not be on claiming our rights to authority over others, and I couldn’t agree more.  They argue that we should focus on serving one another, and again I couldn’t agree more.  But something that egalitarians would do well to remember is that true Biblical leadership is nothing more than the ultimate form of servanthood.

Christ has all power and authority and dominion over all the earth, and yet He humbled himself more than any human being possibly could.  The same is true for those who are called to lead in Christ’s church.  The powerful description of the way in which a husband is to love his wife (Ephesians 5) does not reveal some sort of egalitarian model of marriage, rather it reinforces the Biblical picture of true, Christ-like leadership.  For a husband to take on the role of head of his wife is for him to give up his own desires for her sake.  It is for him to always put her first, to always think of her before himself, and ultimately to give up his whole life for her (figuratively as well as in reality).  This is not a command to “mutually submit.”  Far from it.  This is a command to be a true Christian leader, as Christ was, and is, and ever will be.

I was on facebook the other day, taking a silly quiz to see how “Reformed” I was.  As it turns out, the quiz was designed by Presbyterians, so it wasn’t very accurate. 

One person, obviously irked by Reformation theology, left a rather cynical comment on the quiz’s wall, along the lines of “child prostitution brings glory to God.”  This person was attempting to raise the objection that, because the Reformed believe quite strongly that every event and every moment of history is ordained by God, for the purpose of glorifying Himself, they are left with the (supposedly) absurd conclusion that the most vile and wicked acts imaginable are somehow God-glorifying.  Child prostitution exists, according to this line of thought, because God in some sense wanted it to. 

I just want to say two things in response to this.  The first is that, as is often the case, this is a stilted charicature of Reformed theology.  No sane Reformed person actually believes that God possesses a disposition such that He actually delights in suffering.  There is a very real sense in which God does not want anyone to suffer, in this life or in the next.  He justly hates evil in every possible sense.  You’ll also be hard pressed to find a Reformed theologian who will claim that the Fall (and the subsequent existence of sin and evil in the world) was somehow necessary.  What you will find is a commitment to the idea that, even though evil things are evil in and of themselves, and should not be considered good in any way, it must be the case that they exist for the good, or God would not allow them.  I think Reformed and non-Reformed alike should be able to agree on this.  The only other option is that God does not work all things for good (even if only the best good possible).

The second point is very important, and too often overlooked.  Typically it is said that Reformed theology places the ultimate blame on God, while Arminian forms remove from Him any such responsibility and place it back on us.  Here’s the problem:  Both views must account for vile atrocities like child prostitution.  And both views believe in an omnipotent and wholly good God.  In short, both must still account for the problem of evil.  But to simply say, “well, it’s human freedom” does little to get God off the hook.  At the heart of the so-called “free will defense” against the problem of evil is the notion that the free choice to love God is so infinitely beautiful and good that it is worth the price of child prostitution.  This is, to say the least, a contentious claim.  But more importantly, most advocates of this view will also argue that such free choices of love are supremely God-glorifying.  Arminian theology doesn’t glorify man by placing all the emphasis on him and his choices, says the Arminian, but rather it places equal emphasis on God and His glory.  Fair enough.  But notice what the Arminian view is now saying:  God “allows” (rather than “ordains”) child prostitution so that some can freely choose Him, to the end of glorifying Himself.  Does that sound familair? 

My point here is not necessarily to defend one view over the other.  I don’t think I’ve made any case for Reformed theology here.  But we need to stop acting as though any one denomination has the sure-fire, bullet-proof response to something as immensely troubling and difficult as the problem of evil.  I don’t hold to Reformed theology because I think it makes more sense of the problem of evil than Arminian theology, and I would strongly discourage anyone from holding to Arminian theology for the same reason.  If you can’t accept Reformed doctrine because of exegetical concerns, or because you think it has no adequate grounding for moral responsibility, great!  All I wish to submit here is that the mere presence of evil in the world is not by itself sufficient grounds for accepting or rejecting either view.  It is, as they say, a two-way street.   

Question Of The Day

Why is it that those who borrow 99% of their ideas from Plato, Augustine and Aquinas are “sheep”…

 while those who borrow 99% of their ideas from Nietzsche, Marx and Freud are “free thinkers”?  

Obviously, all four views have some strengths and some weaknesses.  It seems to me that it is simply a matter of deciding which view has the fewest weaknesses and the most strengths.  For me, the Reformed view is the clear winner, but with Memorialism in a close second.  Let me elaborate.

The Reformed critiques of the Roman Catholic and Lutheran views are, I believe, devastating.  To confer a divine attribute to Christ’s human nature is nothing less than a violation of the Chalcedonian Creed, which affirms that Christ’s two natures are neither confused nor mixed.  Likewise, the finite cannot contain the infinite, which rules out any doctrine of the Eucharist that would seek to contain Christ within the elements.  David P. Scaer’s response to this argument was twofold: First, he argued that we cannot let a philosophical axiom be a basis of doctrine.  This is a weak argument, however, since I’m sure Scaer would agree that we can and should (and indeed must!) allow the basic laws of logic to be a basis for doctrine.  Second, he argued that without the power to contain itself in the finite, the infinite would not truly be infinite.   But this sounds like the sort of argument that says “if God were truly omnipotent He could do anything, including make a contradiction true.”  But this, of course, is to misconstrue the meaning of omnipotence.  Likewise Scaer seems to have the wrong idea about infinitude.

Moreover, Russell D. Moore’s argument that the misunderstanding of Christ’s metaphorical teachings about Himself is a recurring theme in John’s gospel (an argument that can easily be appropriated by the Reformed view) deals a similar deathblow to Catholicism and Lutheranism by removing the force of the most explicit passage of Scripture in their favor (John 6).

But what of the Memorialist view?  There is strength in their connection of the Lord’s Supper to Passover, which was by no means a meal that conferred special grace or contained the Spirit of God.  And if we are to support Memorialist arguments regarding the metaphorical nature of Christ’s body and blood, why not go all the way and admit that the elements are merely signs that point metaphorically to those realities?

I believe there is one primary reason to affirm the Reformed view rather than the Memorialist view (I think there are others, but they would take us too far into other areas of theology), and it is found in 1 Corinthians chapter 10, verse 16.  In this verse, Paul is clear that when we eat of the bread and drink of the cup we are actually participating with Christ’s body and blood in a special way that is different from the “regular” participation with Christ that the church in general enjoys.  At this point, Russell D. Moore reminds us that Paul contrasts this with food offered to idols, which he says makes a person a participant with demons.  Does this imply that eating food offered to idols allows a person to spiritually commune with the “real presence” of a demon?  Of course not.  But here I think Moore simply makes the mistake of directly equivocating what the Lord’s Supper means and what food sacrificed to demons means.  What is significant in this passage is not that there is a direct and perfect correlation between the two, but rather that Paul is affirming that there is something real and supernatural at work behind the worship of idols.  To be sure, the statues themselves are lifeless creations of man and the “gods” they represent do not exist, but behind them is the real, supernatural work of Satan and his demons.  That is the only point Paul is trying to make here.  The correlation to the Lord’s Supper, then, is in the fact that, likewise, there is something very real and very supernatural going on behind the partaking of the Lord’s Supper.  This strongly suggests something more than mere symbolism.

For these reasons, then, I believe the Reformed view to be the superior understanding of the doctrine of Holy Communion, while at the same time acknowledging that such a profound mystery will never fully be grasped by the human mind, at least not this side of Paradise.

This Is My Body: Part Two

This second post will give a brief overview of the three remaining positions on the Lord’s Supper: Catholic, Lutheran and Reformed.  The third and final post will be my critique of the four positions, as well as my argument for which position I believe is the best (most biblical) one.


Roman Catholic

I place the Roman Catholic view next because it represents that opposite extreme from Memorialism and is (mostly) just as straightforward.  According to Roman Catholics, during the Mass (when the Lord’s Supper or Eucharist is celebrated), when the Priest consecrates the bread and wine, a miracle occurs and the very substance of the bread and wine are transformed into the substance of the body and blood of Christ.  According to Aquinas’s formulation, which remains official Catholic dogma to this day, while the substance is changed, the accidents remain the same.  So, the bread still looks, feels, and tastes like bread, but nevertheless its substance has become the body of Christ Himself.

Roman Catholics would take Christ’s words of institution in the Gospels literally, as they would also take Christ’s words in John 6 literally.  Also undergirding this view is the Catholic understanding of sacrifice and the continuation of the priesthood.  Each Lord’s Supper is another sacrifice, albeit an “unbloody” one.

Lutheran

The Lutheran view is very close to the Roman Catholic one, but with slight differences.  The Lutheran view is often referred to as “Consubstantiation”, denoting the idea of one substance being with or along side another.  This is typically explained in terms of Christ being “in, with and under” the elements.   The Lutheran doctrine is notoriously difficult to articulate.  On the one hand, they fully affirm that Christ is actually and physically present in the elements, that Christ is literally ingested through the mouth, and that the elements are really changed somehow.  And yet, on the other hand, they deny transubstantiation and the notion that the substance of the bread and wine actually change.  A metaphor that is used to explain this is a piece of iron that is placed in a fire.  When it comes out, every single molecule of the metal is changed in some way.  The metal is infused at every point with the heat of the fire.  And yet the substance of the metal has not changed.

Luther also took very seriously Christ’s words in the gospels, “this is my body” and “this is my blood.”  Although, historically, Lutherans have shied away from using John 6 as support for their view.  David P. Scaer (a Lutheran theologian) argues that that should change.

Reformed

Lastly is the “Reformed” view.  Although many Reformed churches today follow Zwingli and the Memorialist view, the majority of Reformed churches since the Reformation have held this fourth view, which might simply be called Calvin’s view.  Calvin objected to the Roman Catholic view because it conferred a divine attribute, omnipresence, to the human nature of Christ.  He rejected the Lutheran view for this same reason, and also because he held to the axiom that the finite cannot contain the infinite, and therefore any theology of the Eucharist that claimed that Christ was actually contained within the elements must be rejected.

Still, however, Calvin took seriously the “real presence” of Christ in the Lord’s Supper, even going so far as to affirm that we do indeed partake of Christ’s flesh and blood.  How could this be?  Calvin understood that while the two natures of Christ were distinct, they were also inseparably joined.  This meant that even though Christ’s human nature is localized in Heaven, it is united to His divine nature, which is omnipresent.  Thus, by partaking of Christ’s divine nature (which is present in a special way during Communion), through the Holy Spirit, we are also partaking of His human nature.  Calvin readily admitted that this is a mystery beyond our comprehension.  In the same mystical way that Christ’s two natures are united, so we can mystically commune with and partake of Christ’s human nature through His divine nature, which is brought to the Supper and given to the believer by the Holy Spirit (interestingly, this focus on the Holy Spirit in Calvin’s doctrine of the Lord’s Supper bears some similarities to the Eastern Orthodox doctrine.  So much so, in fact, that both Catholic and Lutheran theologians have pointed this out.  In many ways, it actually seems as though the Eastern Orthodox doctrine of the Eucharist is closer to the Reformed view than to the Roman view.  This would be an interesting topic of exploration for another time).

So, which view is the best (in my young and humble opinion)?  Stay tuned!

(For a recap of the Memorialist view, see my previous post).

This Is My Body: Part One

(Note: The following post was adapted from a paper I wrote for a Theology class. As such, much of its descriptions of different theological viewpoints are painted with very broad strokes. Still, I tried to keep them as accurate as possible)

If you stopped random evangelicals on the street and asked them what the differences are between Protestants and Roman Catholics, the top three responses would likely be the Pope, the adoration of Mary, and the Lord’s Supper. The average evangelical layperson may not know very much about Roman Catholic dogma, but he is likely to know that they believe in transubstantiation (even if he isn’t familiar with that term). What the average layperson is not likely to know is that the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper was also the single most divisive doctrine within the various camps of Protestantism as well, sharply dividing Lutherans from their Reformed counterparts. Today in the West, there are basically four major views of the Lord’s Supper, three of which are held by different Protestant evangelical groups; Lutheran, Reformed and Baptist/Pentecostal. In this series of posts, I will briefly outline the four positions, and then offer my critical analysis. For the sake of space, I will leave out questions of how often the sacrament should be administered, who should administer it, who can partake, whether or not other elements can be substituted for bread and wine, etc. I will instead focus on what I believe is the primary issue, namely the presence of Christ. Where is Christ present? How is He present? How is the sacrament efficacious? With these questions in mind, let us now explore the first view.

Memorialist

The Memorialist view, first articulated by the Swiss reformer Ulrich Zwingli, says that Christ is not locally present in or with the elements themselves in any sense, physical or spiritual. Rather, the elements are signs that point us to the spiritual reality they are meant to signify. Memorialists focus on Christ’s command to “do this in remembrance” of Him. Thus the Lord’s Supper points us back, to remind us of Christ’s ultimate sacrifice on our behalf. But it also points us forward, as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 11:26 that as often as the Lord’s Supper is celebrated Christians “proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” This aspect of proclamation also highlights what is going on in the present. Believers are being uplifted and strengthened in their faith, in much the same way as they would be by the preaching of the Word.
Memorialists argue that Christ’s words of institution in the Gospels, “this is my body” and “this is my blood” are symbolic or metaphorical. This is especially true of Christ’s words in John 6:53-54, where he seems to explicitly teach that believers must actually eat his flesh and drink his blood to have eternal life. Russel D. Moore responds to the Catholic reading of these verses by pointing out that there is an ongoing theme in John’s gospel of Jesus teaching metaphorically, but being taken literally by his hearers and thus misunderstood by them. In John 2, for example, Jesus teaches that He will destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, and his hearers do not understand becaue they assume he means the literal temple in Jerusalem. In John 3, Jesus tells Nicodemus that he must be born again in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, and Nicodemus is confused because he takes Christ’s metaphor literally. In John 4, when Jesus speaks of living water, the Samaritan woman takes him literally and misunderstands what he is trying to teach. And more examples abound.
Memorialists also ground their position in a continuity between the Passover feast and the Lord’s Supper. Just as the Passover feast was meant as a celebration and remembrance of things past and a proclamation and hope of things to come, so is the Lord’s Supper. More importantly, there was nothing spiritually efficacious about eating the Passover meal, and neither is there with the Lord’s Supper.

Last night, Ben Stein came to Biola Univeristy to promote his new film, Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed.  In the film, Ben Stein invenstigates the employment termination of several University science professors due to their doubts about Darwinism and support of Intelligent Design.  Find out more about the film here. 

Recently, Dr. R. C. Sproul interviewed Ben Stein about the new film on his radio show, Renewing Your Mind

Listen to Part One.

Listen to Part Two. 

Prayers For Good Friday

From the 1662 Book Of Common Prayer:

Almighty God, we beseech thee graciously to behold this thy family, for which our Lord Jesus Christ was contented to be betrayed, and given up into the hands of wicked men, and to suffer death upon the cross.

Almighty and everlasting God, by whose spirit the whole body of the church is governed and sanctified: receive our supplications and prayers, which we offer before thee for all estates of men in thy holy church, that every member of the same, in his vocation and ministry, may truly and godly serve thee, through our Lord and savior Jesus Christ.

O Merciful God, who hast made all men, and hatest nothing that thou hast made, nor wouldest the death of a sinner, but rather that he should be converted and live: Have mercy upon all unbelievers, and take from them all ignorance, hardness of heart, and contempt of thy word; and so fetch them home, blessed Lord, to thy flock, that they may be saved among the remnant of the true Israelites, and be made one fold under one shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end, Amen.

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