Exegesis or Extra Jesus: How Much Christ in the OT Narratives?

Anybody else out there struggle to preach OT narratives? I was completely lost until a couple people helped see that narratives are more than stories with moral lessons, but actually teach theology and call for faith. Increasing exposure to biblical theology helped me begin to grasp how individual narratives relate to the overall metanarrative. But I've remained puzzled by how to handle the selection and arrangement of narrative material. Why did authors include some stories and details and omit others? And what does one narrative have to do with the one that precedes it and another that follows it?

Dale Ralph Davis' The Word Became Fresh is the most helpful resource I've encountered on that particular issue, and it's a useful overall intro to preaching OT narratives as well.

His approach to preaching Christology from OT narratives is also worth noting. Some exegetes suggest that we should only see Messianic references in OT texts that are specifically identified in the NT—and sometimes not even then. Others suggest that texts like Luke 24 teach that we need to find Christology in every OT text. Davis denies both extremes, and clarifies a balanced (some might say "plain" or "normal") reading of that chapter:

From Jesus' statements I make an inference and form a corollary: the whole Old Testament bears witness to Christ; and, the Old Testament does not bear witness only to Christ. Why this corollary? Because I agree with making an extensive inference from Luke 24:27 and 44 but hold that an intensive inference is illegitimate.

What on earth does that mean? It means I think Jesus is teaching that all parts of the Old Testament testify of the Messiah in his suffering and glory, but I do not think Jesus is saying that every Old Testament passage/text bears witness to him. Jesus referred to the things written about him in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms—he did not say that every passage spoke of him (v. 44). Therefore, I do not feel compelled to make every Old Testament (narrative) passage point to Christ in some way because I do not think Christ himself requires it (pgs. 134-135).

I would simply add that true, full-orbed exposition of any text in its context must consider that text's relationship to the full context of Scripture—Genesis to Revelation. And that work must surely take the person and work of Christ into account.

On Pastors Who Prophesy About People's Hidden Sins

If you put a gun to my head and make me pick teams in this fight, it's not a tough call. And I'm guessing that if you know me well at all, you can figure it out without breaking much of a sweat. (Unless, of course, you're the guy who told my then-boss that I was in the tank for a couple guys with the initials R.W. and J.O. . . .)

Now having said that, it just happened (I'm not calling it revelation) that I was cleaning out some really old e-mail tonight and stumbled across a link a friend sent me back in 2008. That article contains this curious anecdote:

The ministry of Charles Spurgeon is a case in point. Read carefully the following account taken from his autobiography:

“While preaching in the hall, on one occasion, I deliberately pointed to a man in the midst of the crowd, and said, ‘There is a man sitting there, who is a shoemaker; he keeps his shop open on Sundays, it was open last Sabbath morning, he took ninepence, and there was fourpence profit out of it; his soul is sold to Satan for fourpence!’ A city missionary, when going his rounds, met with this man, and seeing that he was reading one of my sermons, he asked the question, ‘Do you know Mr. Spurgeon?’ ‘Yes,’ replied the man, ‘I have every reason to know him, I have been to hear him; and, under his preaching, by God’s grace I have become a new creature in Christ Jesus. Shall I tell you how it happened? I went to the Music Hall, and took my seat in the middle of the place; Mr. Spurgeon looked at me as if he knew me, and in his sermon he pointed to me, and told the congregation that I was a shoemaker, and that I kept my shop open on Sundays; and I did, sir. I should not have minded that; but he also said that I took ninepence the Sunday before, and that there was fourpence profit out of it. I did take ninepence that day, and fourpence was just the profit; but how he should know that, I could not tell. Then it struck me that it was God who had spoken to my soul though him, so I shut up my shop the next Sunday. At first, I was afraid to go again to hear him, lest he should tell the people more about me; but afterwards I went, and the Lord met with me, and saved my soul.’”

Spurgeon then adds this comment:

“I could tell as many as a dozen similar cases in which I pointed at somebody in the hall without having the slightest knowledge of the person, or any idea that what I said was right, except that I believed I was moved by the Spirit to say it; and so striking has been my description, that the persons have gone away, and said to their friends, ‘Come, see a man that told me all things that ever I did; beyond a doubt, he must have been sent of God to my soul, or else he could not have described me so exactly.’ And not only so, but I have known many instances in which the thoughts of men have been revealed from the pulpit. I have sometimes seen persons nudge their neighbours with their elbow, because they had got a smart hit, and they have been heard to say, when they were going out, ‘The preacher told us just what we said to one another when we went in at the door’” (The Autobiography of Charles H. Spurgeon, [Curts & Jennings, 1899], Vol. II, pp. 226-227).

Now, the preacher in the first link might be quite appropriately criticized for many things—many things even in the 5-minute clip embedded in that post. But perhaps the root issue—the question of whether the Spirit supernaturally reveals specific details of people's sins—might be more complex than we think. At the very least, perhaps we need to expand the objects of our criticism.

Some Fun Video

If you like this blog (and I don't assume that you do), I think you'll really enjoy these two links.

First, Ed Stetzer posted a couple videos of a conversation that happened several years ago. It addresses contextualization, ecclesiology, and appropriate levels of cooperation when we don't agree. That was one of the most unusual days from my time in DC—eye-opening on several levels, and hopefully fruitful on some as well.

Second, I've been eagerly anticipating release of the videos Southwestern Seminary kindly recorded of Paige Patterson's interview at 9Marks@9 at the SBC annual meeting in June, 2011. The video interface is a bit cumbersome, but it's worth your patience if you want to pick up some important perspective on history and interdenominational cooperation from a warrior-statesman (if there is such a thing).

A couple brief highlights:

Patterson: "The beginning of trouble came with topical preaching."

And when asked, "Is 9Marks more a part of the problem or of the solution, when it comes to what's going wrong with the SBC," Patterson replied, "I don't see it as a major part of the problem." Funny, sort of.

On Repentance, People Who Dilute It, and Much, Much More

1. I can't remember a more helpful sermon explaining the biblical definition of repentance than Michael Lawrence's from August 7, 2011. A couple brief quotes follow, but listen for much more, including an apt analogy between a conversion to Islam and the way too many Christians think about "the sinner's prayer." Lawrence argued, "A regenerate heart repents," and, "When we separate repentance—biblical repentance—from conversion, it's kind of like we're giving people a vaccine against the gospel."

2. I'm wondering, if one were of a mind to do so, if it might not be possible to make the argument that John MacArthur is to the ideological right of several leaders of independent, fundamental Baptist institutions.

3. Some folks might argue that the problem with this [PDF] is the association it creates with another speaker. I actually think that the real issue is direct fellowship with false doctrine about how God has spoken. Which issue bothers you more, or whether any of it does at all, reveals a bit about whether your analytical grid is shaped by the tradition of a movement, doctrinal fidelity, or a set of networked relationships.

4. Thank you, Michael Horton, for saying some things that needed to be said. And frankly, we only needed title of the CT article to know that someone needed to say it.

5. From Carl Trueman's argument that we ought to fire boring preachers:

Praise and worship - the ascription to God of the honour and glory which is his - is a response to knowing who he is and what he has done. It is provoked and shaped by the description of God which the teacher gives. Anything else which calls itself worship, whether traditional or contemporary, whether exhilarating or soothing, is not worship. It is merely an aesthetic experience which helps to achieve a certain psychological or emotional state. I remember at college I would often hear people talk of this church as being great at doctrine and that church as being great at worship. That should a false dichotomy. One cannot really be good at one and not the other, for they are intimately and inseparably connected.

6. I do not know of a more useful extra-biblical pastoral tool than a well-designed and maintained membership directory.

7. Here's a piece of the late Mark Hatfield's story that you won't find in the mainstream media.

8. No more Mars Hill "campuses." This is an intriguing shift. Of course they're right that the NT speaks of "churches," not "campuses." But I'm not exactly sure how this structure is meaningfully distinct from Anglican polity.

9. Michael Green shares an absolutely priceless Francis Schaeffer anecdote beginning at the 35:35 mark of this video:

Panel 20/20 Collegiate Conference 2011 Session 3 from Southeastern Seminary on Vimeo.

Ten Things You Need to Read Before You Go Watch "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" This Weekend

1. Chris Anderson just highlighted a blogpost from Jay Adams that simply floored me. Though I share Adams' concern that "gospel-centeredness" can be an amorphous blob of mystical platitudes, he proceeds to suggest that learning to preach the gospel to yourself is an unhelpful idea. It seems clear to me that he doesn't really understand the concept. (NANC has developed a reputation for emphasizing moralistic human effort over our need for the ongoing work of the gospel as we pursue sanctification, has it not?) It's just difficult for me to imagine that Adams—having surely forgotten more counseling sessions than I'll lead in my lifetime—seems never to have encountered someone who needed to learn how to remind himself of the past, present, and future work of the gospel in his life.

2. The senior managing editor of Christianity Today believes people find evangelicalism to be "bankrupt" because of "crazy uncles" Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell. Ironic?

3. Some fascinating statistics on church planting rates for various denominations.

4. Some reflections from John Piper on John Stott. This comment from Piper is very close to the reason I have a rather sporadic interest in The Gospel Coalition blog (exhibit A):

To this day I have zero interest in watching a preacher take his stand on top of the (closed) treasure chest of Bible sentences and eloquently talk about his life or his family or the news or history or culture or movies, or even general theological principles and themes, without opening the chest and showing me the specific jewels in these Bible sentences.

5. Speaking of Stott, somewhere in one of his obituaries I learned that he was Queen Elizabeth II's personal chaplain from 1959-1991.

6. Here's what Stott said in 1996 about when it would be time for evangelicals to leave the Church of England:

I've always felt that it's unwise to publish a list of criteria in advance. Nevertheless, I'm quite happy to talk about them. I think one's final decision to leave would be an exceedingly painful one, a situation that I cannot envisage at the moment.

I would take refuge in the teaching of the New Testament, where the apostles seem to distinguish between major and minor errors. The major doctrinal errors concern the person and work of Christ. It's clear in 1 John that anyone who denies the divine-human person of Jesus is anti-Christ. So, if the church were officially to deny the Incarnation, it would be an apostate church and one would have to leave.

Then, there's the work of Christ. In Galatians, if anybody denies the gospel of justification by grace alone through faith alone, that is anathema: Paul calls down the judgment of God upon that person.

On the major ethical issues: the best example is the incestuous offender in 1 Corinthians 5. Paul called on the church to excommunicate him. If you want me to stick my neck out, I think I would say that if the church were officially to approve homosexual partnerships as a legitimate alternative to heterosexual marriage, this so far diverges from biblical sexual ethics that I would find it exceedingly difficult to stay. I might want to stay on and fight for a few more years, but if they persisted, I would have to leave.

7. Speaking of things that were never supposed to come true, remember when everybody told us this wouldn't happen? Next up, polygamous marriage rights.

8. Strictly speaking, Stott may not have been the annihilationist he's often claimed to have been. Here's how he described his view in that same wide-ranging 1996 interview linked above:

In Evangelical Essentials, I described as "tentative" my suggestion that "eternal punishment" may mean the ultimate annihilation of the wicked rather than their eternal conscious torment. I would prefer to call myself agnostic on this issue, as are a number of New Testament scholars I know. In my view, the biblical teaching is not plain enough to warrant dogmatism. There are awkward texts on both sides of the debate.

9. This conversation on whether and how much we should study cultural backgrounds to Scripture barely scratches the surface of a topic that has been largely ignored in far too many places. It needs to be at least an hour longer.



10. And finally, anybody else out there who just can't wait to ask Carl Trueman to autograph your Bible after his breakout session at T4G12?

On Churches, Game Shows, and Presidential Debates

Yesterday I listened to a QnA with a presidential candidate (we'll call this person "Pat"), in which "Pat" made some comments about a recent presidential debate. Pat said what I wish I could believe most viewers were thinking at the time. Pat said what I suspect might have been a defining moment in Pat's campaign, had Pat been sensible enough to offer this answer in the heat of the moment. So here's what Pat said:

I thought when the CNN moderator was asking us questions like, "Do you prefer 'Dancing with the Stars' or 'American Idol'?", I really think in retrospect the correct answer was to say, "It's pathetic that with 14 million unemployed and a $2 trillion deficit and three wars underway you would waste our time with this." Because what it does is it trivializes the choice of the leader of the United States into a game show.

The naïvety of the American public in our presidential selection process is disheartening, to say the least, and the public debate of recent weeks has only advanced that trajectory. The notion advanced by the media (assuming it's true, silly me) that the public just wanted a compromise—as if compromise a) is equivalent to a long-term solution, and b) is not the methodology that got us where we are—is an omen of our future.

But let me just ask a simple question: How might we trivialize the mission and message of our churches by the content of our children's ministry, the strategy of our youth ministry, the commitment of membership, the smorgasbord of our programs, the frivolity of our off-hand, casual comments, the mood and form of our music, the structure of our service, the gravity of our preaching, and the priorities revealed by the sheer number of man-hours we devote to these components.

Just askin'.

Things You May Have Missed, and Opinions You Might Not Share

Just a little collection of comments that intrigued me over the past few days:

1. Kudos to the GARBC for addressing openly the need to protect children from sexual abuse in the church.

2. Should you be considering showing your church a movie produced to propagate the gospel because the "older forms of Christian expression aren't as effective anymore," consider these words of caution from Dave Doran [MP3]:

Evangelicalism and Fundamentalism have both been guilty of an inordinate desire to keep up with the latest things. Okay, the latest technological advances, the latest deals to do it, so let's go back—gospel and films. I mean, it looks like the way to reach people, so all of a sudden people say, "Let's start doing that," without necessarily thinking about, "Does something happen that undermines the power of the spoken word when we move to drama?"—not even necessarily thinking about that. So I'm just saying we shouldn't chase any fad because it doesn't give us enough time to decide, and it's usually a misguided quest for relevance.

3. Some more Doran . . . I have to admit, I've barely skimmed the linked CT article, but I have no doubt he's right: "[P]rofessing evangelicals keep getting hoodwinked into publishing documents that never accomplish their purpose, but do in fact erode the boundaries of the faith." My take: The term "classic Christians" is code for "ecumenical unity is more precious to us than gospel clarity."

4. You've probably read a pastoral statement of repentance. The one you may not have heard is from Josh Harris. Give it a listen and see if any of the concerns people have voiced to CLC leadership sound familiar.

5. I'm a bit surprised that Master's Seminary alum Francis Chan is squishy on annihilationism. And it strikes me a bit odd that those comments aren't part of the story in a post that refers to arrogance in trying to attract people to Jesus by hiding things about him.

6. Though I'm not as optimistic about the future of the SBC as this author, I think he's dead right about the generation gap in its leadership:

We are merely experience the ramifications of twenty years of moderate/liberal theology in our seminaries. When it comes to strong theological training, which produces strong leadership, the SBC has a generational gap. The students in our seminaries when our schools were in such bad shape the Conservative Resugence began, are now in their 50s and early 60s. That is the age group that usually gives leadership to our convention. Many, but definitely not all, of this group tend to be atheological. Men of God who love Him and are deeply committed, but didn't have the theological training from a mentor like an Adrian Rogers or a school like our seminaries of the last 15 years. The theological void was filled by methodology and programs which has led to the rise of pragmatism over theology, which in turn produced the slippery slope down which we are currently sliding.

The last theologically driven generation is in their very late 60s, 70s, and 80s and sidelined by the convention. The next theologically driven generation is still under 45, which means lots of biblical grounding, but still very inexperienced when it comes to the ability to lead at a national level.

What Dispensationalism and Covenant Theology Have in Common (But Shouldn't)

I want to wrap up the series I started several weeks ago on biblical covenants, rooted initially in Steve Wellum's chapter, "Baptism and the Relationship Between the Covenants" [PDF], in Tom Schreiner and Shawn Wright's Believer's Baptism.

A summary of where we've been so far: Part 1 provided a brief summary of main contours in Covenant Theology. Part 2 focused on the "seed" theme in the Bible, reaching the conclusion that the term is used in four related but distinct ways. Part 3 traced Wellum's argument that Christ fulfills ALL the OT covenants. Part 4 highlighted two of Wellum's conclusions.

Now in Part 5, I want to give a bit more attention to John Reisinger's Abraham's Four Seeds, a book that's been quite helpful to me in holding both Dispensationalism (D) and Covenant Theology (CT) up to the mirror of some pivotal biblical texts. In it, Reisinger examines four biblical usages of the theological term, "seed"—natural, physical, unique (Christ) and "special" natural (the Nation of Israel). (Regardless of your personal convictions, it's worth a read, if for no other reason than that it'll help you look at those texts from outside the comfortable confines of your theological system.) Be aware that he's primarily critiquing the D of Scofield and the CT of the Westminster Confession, so your particular flavor of revised D or CT may not overlap precisely.

Most everyone would agree that D and CT differ strikingly over the matter of continuity in Scripture, related to the covenants and the people of God. D sees less; CT sees more. So you can get a sense of where Reisinger's coming from, here's how he describes that difference:

Dispensationalism drives a wedge between the OT and the NT and never the twain shall meet as specific promise (OT) and identical fulfillment (NT); and Covenant Theology flattens the whole Bible out into one covenant where there is no real and vital distinction between either the Old and New Covenants or Israel and the Church. (p. 19)

But Reisinger also notes a surprising point of similarity between D and CT. In fact, it's a recurring point of his book. (As much as I'm tempted to blog through the whole book, I'm choosing simply to quote the point rather than attempt to develop it. We'll see if I pay for that in the comments . . .) I think you'll see how it largely dovetails with Wellum's arguments:

What we are really saying is this: (1) Every promise that was made to Abraham and his seed is either now fulfilled spiritually in Christ; or will be fulfilled in the new heavens and new earth; or else it ended when the Old Covenant was done away; or there will be, in some cases, a 'double' fulfillment. (2) Every single thing given to a believer 'in Christ' is far better than anything in the natural world, including all of the land of Palestine. Every believer, whether Jew or Gentile, will ultimately be united to Christ and be part of his bride (Rev. 21) and experience the "better things" of Hebrews 11:39, 40.

Both the Dispensationalist and the Covenant Theologian want to bring the promise of Abraham and his seed into the present age in a physical sense via the lineage of their physical children. They both insist that the promise made to Abraham and his seed is an unconditional covenant and is therefore still in effect for physical seeds. The Dispensationalist naturalizes the seed to mean physical Israel, and the Paedobaptist naturalizes the seed to mean the physical children of believers. The Padeobaptist [sic] wants to make the Abrahamic covenant to be a special covenant with believers concerning the salvation of their physical children that is still in effect today. The Dispensationalist wants the same covenant to be a special covenant still in force with Jews concerning the land of Palestine. In the end, the Paedobaptist does exactly the same thing with Abraham's seed as the Dispensationalist! He merely does it for a different purpose. (p. 94)

In the final post of this series, I plan to reproduce a helpful chart that shows how God's single goal is advanced through two different covenants and two distinct nations.

Should we insist that our unregenerate children pray, ask forgiveness, or attend church?

Scott Anderson of Desiring God Ministries interviews Elyse Fitzpatrick on her new book, Give Them Grace, and asks her those kinds of questions. You might be surprised, or even appalled, at her answers. Whether or not you agree with her conclusions, I think you'll see that they emerge from a biblical understanding of human depravity and the Spirit's work in accomplishing regeneration. I hope you'll find it thought-provoking and maybe let it simmer for a bit.

The bottom line: Fitzpatrick is convinced that we focus far too much on behavior and teach far too little on the gospel as we go about our parenting labors. Her point isn't that we shouldn't train behavior, but that we must lead our kids to understand that, apart from God's work in them, they really can't change in any meaningful way. And even if they could, it wouldn't get them anywhere with God.

Speaking from some experience as one of the formerly people-pleasing and falsely-professing-Christ kids Fitzpatrick describes (the "older brothers" and outwardly religious Pharisees), I think she's on to something. Video is embedded below, but this DG post has some helpful time-stamps.

"What kind of Christians do contemporary services produce?"

This is an insightful piece from a Baylor prof, published in Christianity Today, and well worth a read. Among several poignant quotes, this one seemed to sum up the point best:

[A]esthetics is never mere aesthetics; the medium may well override the message, or worse, become confused with the message. Tailoring the message to personal styles can easily result in adapting the faith to one's own needs. Instead of allowing the gospel to challenge us, we alter the historic faith to fit the trends of our age.