Editing and Inspiration

In a recent Washington Post interview, J.I. Packer describes his conviction that divine inspiration of Scripture is not compromised if we conclude that an inspired editor shaped the final published form of the biblical text. Here's the exchange:

Q: On a radio program, you explained why different Bible translations have different endings to the Gospel of Mark. How does this jibe with the inerrancy of God's word?

A: The inerrancy of Scripture applies to the material as prepared for publication. I'm saying that quite deliberately because I want to allow the editor in. In some Old Testament books, it's very evident that an editor has been at work. That's quite all right. It's part of the process.

Q: But some people believe that every word written and every "i'' dotted came strictly from the hand of God to the author. At the other extreme, atheists and liberal Christians say, "No one knows what's true in the Bible because it's been changed so much." How do you see this?

A: I'm saying that an editorial process that is preparing the material for publication counts as part of the inspiring process whereby God, in his sovereignty, gave every word. Some people ask for trouble by not allowing for the reality of editorial processes. The editorial process is very important for preparing the work for public consumption. It's part of the inspired process.

I know what I believe on this point, but I'm really curious to hear what the sort of folks who read this blog believe and have been taught. So I'll shut up and look forward to hearing from you.

Can We Be Together for the Gospel with Fundamentalists? (Part 1): Why Are the Young Guys Leaving?

I’ve heard more than a few explanations for why so many younger men (and let's not forget the women) are distancing themselves from fundamentalism and embracing conservative evangelicals. Here are a few:

• Lust for status or academic respect
• Rebellion
• Itch to participate in worldly activities (rock music, movies, alcohol)
• Rejection of dispensationalism
• Frustration with what fundamentalism has tolerated (appalling preaching, bad conduct, hypocritical leaders, anti-intellectualism)
• Disgust with legalism
• Impatience waiting for leadership
• Desire for mentoring
• Impulse to be part of something bigger
  

People who move away from fundamentalism aren’t monolithic. They have different theologies. Different priorities. Different opinions. Different idols. (Yes, we all have them.) So I’m guessing that all of these reasons that have been proposed are true, though certainly not all for every single person. I’m guessing there are many more I haven’t listed. I’m guessing that most people in this group have been influenced by more than one of the items on this list. I’m convinced that many of these reasons overlap. And I certainly don't claim to speak for everyone.

But there’s another factor that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone mention publicly. I’m persuaded that it’s a significant factor, at least for some. And if it’s a legitimate basis for walking away from fundamentalism, even for one person, then it ought to provoke some serious soul-searching, particularly among people who are committed to the fundamentalist idea and who believe that the residue of the fundamentalist movement best preserves that idea.

That factor—that factor to which some people are so committed that they’ve grown disillusioned with the fundamentalist movement . . . the factor that has led them to build bridges to other partnerships, coalitions and affiliations . . . that factor is the gospel.

In other words, some young people are leaving fundamentalism for the sake of the gospel. Some young people think they’ve found a more biblically faithful articulation and practice outside the residue of the fundamentalist movement. Some young people think that people who really care about the gospel will talk more about the gospel than fundamentalism or separation (or anything else).

You might not like it. You might disagree with the facts. You might question their judgment or their priorities. But you’d be wrong to deny the reality of their convictions.

In Part 2: "The Logic of Fundamentalism: Presuppositions," I hope to explain how separatist theology creates a formidable standard for its own advocates.

Bait and Switch Evangelism

Act 2 of the November 6th installment of "This American Life" is worth a listen. Don't be put off by the title; it's af exposé on disingenuous evangelistic strategies. What's most intriguing is the opportunity to hear a self-conscious non-Christian perspective on sham evangelism.

The Power of the Gospel and How We Deny It

Chris Anderson's piece, "Is God Still Working?", published in the OBF Visitor, is worth a read. He argues that we functionally doubt the gospel in two ways: 1) supplementing or replacing it, and 2) expecting no conversions. I think he's exactly right, and I want to propose a third way we deny it.

A few years ago a Christian leader told me that he doubted whether teenagers could ever really love God, so we need to control their behavior until they're old enough for God to work in their hearts.

I believe that doctrine emasculates God and guts the gospel.

When we doubt that God will inflame the hearts of his people–whether teenagers, single adults or retirees—with a growing desire to exalt the name of Jesus Christ and to live lives of holiness; when we say God said things that God never said; when we teach as doctrine the commandments of men; when we create an atmosphere in which the doctrine of justification is marginalized—displaced by a culture of hedges around the law; when we do all those things, we've compromised the biblical gospel just as surely as if we flirted with ecumenism.

Speak Prophetically Without Compromising Doctrine: William Wilberforce on the Manhattan Declaration

This afternoon I picked up John Piper's Counted Righteous in Christ in preparation to preach on justification. Piper opens the book by making the case that doctrine matters. In the course of that argument, published in 2002, he decries the public ecumenism that followed the events of September 11, 2001, citing a 200 year-old source, William Wilberforce's A Practical View of Christianity (p. 25). Wilberforce writes:

The fatal habit of considering Christian morals as distinct from Christian doctrine insensibly gained strength. Thus the peculiar doctrines of Christianity went more and more out of sight, and as might naturally have been expected, the moral system itself also began to wither and decay, being robbed of that which should have supplied it with life and nutriment.

I think that's precisely what the Manhattan Declaration does—considering Christian morals as distinct from Christian doctrine. And it will prove fruitless.

Some might say that these groups have much Christian doctrine in common, and it's true. But they're miles apart on justification, which is at the heart of the gospel. Piper continues to quote Wilberforce on precisely that point:

They consider not that Christianity is a scheme . . . for making the fruits of holiness the effects, not the cause, of our being justified and reconciled.

Piper concludes:

Many public people say that changing society requires changing people, but few show the depth of understanding Wilberforce does concerning how that comes about. For him the right grasp of the central doctrine of justification and its relation to sanctification—an emerging Christlikeness in private and public—were essential for the reformation of the morals of England.

"I do not believe it is possible to embrace the premises of ecumenical strategy and still draw the conclusions of evangelical orthodoxy."

Alistair Begg on the Manhattan Declaration, blogging at the Gospel Coalition.

The Manhattan Declaration and Its Fundamentalist Parallels

Dave Doran argues persuasively and, I believe, quite correctly that Al Mohler and other signatories of the Manhattan Declaration create "confusion about the real meaning of Christian." I believe they've imprudently dodged foundational theological differences in an attempt to speak prophetically with a united voice to the culture. They're concerned about serious moral issues, but they err in elevating those moral issues at the expense of gospel clarity.

Ironically, I'd be more comfortable if they'd expanded their reach to include Muslims, Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, and any other willing group. They could have skirted the problematic mutual affirmation of Christian status and simply called themselves "people of faith." But I'd be most comfortable if they adopted John MacArthur's conviction that "the document falls far short of identifying the one true and ultimate remedy for all of humanity’s moral ills: the gospel." I've written more times than I can remember about evangelicalism's obsession with cultural transformation at the expense of the centrality of the gospel (and this certainly applies to many fundamentalists as well).

But I really want to make another point. In his earlier post, Doran said about the declaration:

At the least, it substitutes a sociological-historical definition of Christian in the place of a biblical-theological one. At the worst, it runs the risk of minimizing the biblical message of grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone.

As I read that comment, it occurred to me that much of fundamentalism has done essentially the same thing. I'm preparing to argue that fundamentalism has displaced and marginalized the gospel. This has happened by disconnecting the transformational power of the gospel in progressive sanctification, and by replacing the gospel with moralistic do-it-yourself reform and uniform standards of behavior and association.

In other words, fundamentalism, by and large, has prioritized a culture—a narrow set of parameters for the practice of personal and ecclesiastical separation—over the gospel. And in so doing it has redefined what it means to be a fundamentalist, every bit as much as the Manhattan Declaration has redefined what it means to be a Christian. Both errors have theological roots. And both errors strike at the gospel.

When Conservative Churches Preach Law, Not Gospel

What drives a Christ-less Christianity? Michael Horton's answer:

In more conservative contexts, you hear it as exhortation: "These are God's commandments. The culture is slipping away from us. We have to recover it, and you play a role.

And later . . .

I don't even know when I walk into a church that says it's Bible-believing that I'm actually going to hear an exposition of Scripture with Christ at the center, or whether I'm going to hear about how I should "dare to be a Daniel."

So what's the problem with "be like Daniel" preaching?

The question is whether this is the Good News. There is nothing wrong with law, but law isn't gospel. The gospel isn't "Follow Jesus' example" or "Transform your life" or "How to raise good children." The gospel is: Jesus Christ came to save sinners—even bad parents, even lousy followers of Jesus, which we all are on our best days. All of the emphasis falls on "What would Jesus do?" rather than "What has Jesus done?"

So what kind of preaching do you hear? Things for you to do, or exultation in what Christ has done? Do you hear first an emphasis on objective accomplishments of the death of Christ (as the NT epistles so consistently prioritize), or a relentless drive to impose imperatives on the congregation? Do you hear a repudiation of the gospel as the foundation of sanctification, or a reaffirmation that the gospel is the believer's only hope for Christ-likeness?

Diagnosing Our Idols

Interesting interview in CT with Tim Keller on his new book, Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex, and Power, and the Only Hope that Matters. Here's the question and answer that's going to be rattling around in my own head:

How does someone identify their idols?

Look at your daydreams. When you don't have to think about something, like when you are waiting for the bus, where does your mind love to rest? Or, look at where you spend your money most effortlessly. Also, if you take your most uncontrolled emotions or the guilt that you can't get rid of, you'll find your idols at the bottom. Whenever I hear someone say, "I know God forgives me, but I can't forgive myself," it means that person has something that is more important than God, because God forgives them. If you look at your greatest nightmare—if something were to happen that would make you feel you had no reason to live—that's a god.

Today's Conservative Evangelicals on the Failures of the New Evangelical Strategies

I suppose there are folks who still think that all non-Fundamentalists embrace the atrocious mid-20th century Evangelical strategy—infiltrating apostate denominations to advance evangelism and gain a hearing for orthodox faith. I'm not sure how that's possible. Men like MacArthur, Mohler, Dever, Piper, Sproul, and others have been crystal clear in their criticism of those strategies for years now.

The latest contribution to this stream comes from Carl Trueman of Westminster Seminary, who appropriately acknowledges J.I. Packer's positive contributions to evangelicalism, but also addresses his failures quite directly in this video: