What has been the most influential book for you in the last couple of years?

Yesterday, I mentioned The Diary of David Brainerd, and the impact the book had in the 19th century during the spread of the modern missions movement; it catapulted the evangelical affirmation, that a person must be born again, onto the international stage, where for the first time and on a large scale, the desire for foreign missions was on the forefront of the minds of young Christians. The “original” Young, Restless, Reformed were inspired by Brainerd’s single-hearted devotion to the pursuit of God and the conversion of the Indians. Believe it or not, students at Yale checked out this book more than any other in the 19th century. It’s hegemony cannot be denied. Along those line, I thought it would be interesting to hear from folk – what book (besides the Bible) has shaped you in a profound way. Let me know what book and a short why!

A thought from George Marsden’s bio of Jonathan Edwards.

In his pithy biography of Edwards, Marsden shows why he is a household name among students of  American religious history. The sheer number of theological tidbits passed along in the final chapter alone are worth its weight in gold. For those of you crunched for time and cannot plow through Marsden’s big Jonathan Edwards, I would encourage you to pick this up; it will pay great dividends in your pursuit of America’s greatest theologian.

Here is Marsden waxing eloquent about Edwards’s, The Nature of True Virtue and The End for Which God Created the World.

So for Edwards the universe is most essentially personal; it is the creative expression of a person. Edwards’s emphasis on personality at the center of reality presents a sharp contrast to most modern views. Since the Enlightenment many modern thinkers have built their theories on the premise that the universe is essentially impersonal, controlled by natural laws. Edwards challenged the view with a vital alternative: that at the core of reality is a loving God, and that love is the dynamic behind the creation of the universe and everything in it.

Starting with a sense of God’s love at the center of reality then shapes the way we think of true virtue. At the core of reality is the beauty of the love of God pouring forth, so that the highest good is to return that love to God. If we truly love God, then we should also love what God loves, which is everything in creation, excepting evil or the negation of love. Modern philosophies, said Edwards, typically start in the wrong place, with humans and their needs. They see human happiness as the end of creation and then judge God by their limited standards.

Unfortunately, so much of what Edwards was concerned about has come to pass in American evangelical church life – esp., his point in the last two sentences.

What can C.S. Lewis teach us about evangelism?

In a C. S. Lewis seminar class many years ago, I read, for the first time, Lewis’ sermon, “The Weight of Glory,” where my sense of longing for another place became the foundation for how I now live: not to be so enamored with the shadows of this world as to forget the reality of our hope. Lewis will use this to set our hearts for evangelism because if eternity is reality, then we are dealing with folks who are destined for a place: eternity in paradise in the presence of our maker or forever in a nightmare, doomed without any prospect of redemption.

Lewis brilliantly set up his hearers by stirring our sense of longing for another place: “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.” In fact Lewis points out that our desire for the promises of reward is not too strong but too weak.

The don is not satisfied to leave his sermon at that, but squeezes the point home, asking the question about our neighbor: “It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbour [sic]. . . . It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you say it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare.”

Then, with what I believe to be some of the greatest lines in Christian literature, Lewis closes out the sermon with this: “All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or other of these destination. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilisations – these are mortal, and their life is ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendours.“

Lewis brilliantly forces us to see people for who they really are and gives us an impetus for gospel proclamation. May the Lord grant us the vision to see things as they really are.

After our first year of Beginning Greek!

HT: Andy Naselli

Clarity on the the argument for God’s Existence

Cosmological Argument. What is it? Well, the folklore version goes like this: “Everything has a cause; we exist (where did we come from?), so God must exist.” Not so fast, writes Edward Feser, a professor of philosophy at Pasadena City College. If the argument actually followed that logic, then the obvious question will follow suit: “Where did God come from?” Feser points out that this is not how the argument flows, at least by thoughtful proponents of this view.

And that, I submit, is the reason why the stupid “Everything has a cause” argument – a complete fabrication, an urban legend, something no philosopher has ever defended – perpetually haunts the debate over the cosmological argument.  It gives atheists an easy target, and a way rhetorically to make even their most sophisticated opponents seem silly and not worth bothering with.  It‘s a slimy debating trick, nothing more – a shameless exercise in what I have elsewhere called “meta-sophistry.”  (I make no judgment about whether Le Poidevin’s or Dennett’s sleaziness was deliberate.  But that they should know better is beyond question.)

What defenders of the cosmological argument do say is that what comes into existence has a cause, or that what is contingent has a cause.  These claims are as different from “Everything has a cause” as “Whatever has color is extended” is different from “Everything is extended.”  Defenders of the cosmological argument also provide arguments for these claims about causation.  You may disagree with the claims – though if you think they are falsified by modern physics, you are sorely mistaken – but you cannot justly accuse the defender of the cosmological argument either of saying something manifestly silly or of contradicting himself when he goes on to say that God is uncaused. . . .

The cosmological argument in its historically most influential versions is not concerned to show that there is a cause of things which just happens not to have a cause.  It is not interested in “brute facts” – if it were, then yes, positing the world as the ultimate brute fact might arguably be as defensible as taking God to be.  On the contrary, the cosmological argument – again, at least as its most prominent defenders (Aristotle, Aquinas, Leibniz, et al.) present it – is concerned with trying to show that not everything can be a “brute fact.”  What it seeks to show is that if there is to be an ultimate explanation of things, then there must be a cause of everything else which not only happens to exist, but which could not even in principle have failed to exist.  And that is why it is said to be uncaused – not because it is an arbitrary exception to a general rule, not because it merely happens to be uncaused, but rather because it is not the sort of thing that can even in principle be said to have had a cause, precisely because it could not even in principle have failed to exist in the first place.  And the argument doesn’t merely assume or stipulate that the first cause is like this; on the contrary, the whole point of the argument is to try to show that there must be something like this.

If you are into these things, take a look at Feser’s post.

HT: Gene Veith

Odds and Ends – 7/19/2011

Timothy Dalrymple over at Patheos has a nice post: “Are Conservative Churches Getting ‘Radical?‘ “

The significance of this point cannot be overstated. Young believers committed to radical discipleship and sacrificial service to the poor and the lost have too long felt – and too often experienced – that there is no place within conservative Christendom for them to live out their vision of what it means to be followers of Jesus.  It’s imperative to demonstrate that a strong commitment to the authority of scripture and the historical teachings of the church does not eclipse, but actually grounds and inspires, a profound devotion to Christ as well as a wholehearted commitment to serving Christ in the least of these.  If conservative churches come to be seen as the stagnant backwaters of a comfortable and compromised faith, while emerging or liberal churches are seen as the mobilizers of compassion and service, then conservative churches will damage their witness and lose many of the most fervent believers in the younger generations.

I disagree with Timothy Luke Johnson’s position in this matter because I submit to the authority of the text (albeit, imperfectly and with many unknown subtle preferences), but he is honest about the text and scriptural interpretation. The entire article is worth our time:

The task demands intellectual honesty. I have little patience with efforts to make Scripture say something other than what it says, through appeals to linguistic or cultural subtleties. The exegetical situation is straightforward: we know what the text says. But what are we to do with what the text says? We must state our grounds for standing in tension with the clear commands of Scripture, and include in those grounds some basis in Scripture itself. To avoid this task is to put ourselves in the very position that others insist we already occupy—that of liberal despisers of the tradition and of the church’s sacred writings, people who have no care for the shared symbols that define us as Christian. If we see ourselves as liberal, then we must be liberal in the name of the gospel, and not, as so often has been the case, liberal despite the gospel.

I think it important to state clearly that we do, in fact, reject the straightforward commands of Scripture, and appeal instead to another authority when we declare that same-sex unions can be holy and good. And what exactly is that authority? We appeal explicitly to the weight of our own experience and the experience thousands of others have witnessed to, which tells us that to claim our own sexual orientation is in fact to accept the way in which God has created us. By so doing, we explicitly reject as well the premises of the scriptural statements condemning homosexuality—namely, that it is a vice freely chosen, a symptom of human corruption, and disobedience to God’s created order.

HT: Mere Orthodoxy

The folks over at Kingdom People has a take on the SBC’s decline – that is, decline in numbers.

The Excellency of Christ and Good Reformed Preaching.

I have a friend who is a Jonathan Edwards scholar, and in a particular seminar class, he assigned Edwards’ sermon, “The Excellency of Christ,” where a student remarked, “I thought he [Edwards] was a Calvinist.” The student was surprised at the language Edwards used to beckon people to conversion – that is, “to choose Christ.” This is good Reformed preaching! We plead with people to choose Jesus as their savior. Here are some snippets from the sermon.

B) Let the consideration of this wonderful meeting of diverse excellencies in Christ induce you to accept of him, and close with him as your Savior. As all manner of excellencies meet in him, so there are concurring in him all manner of arguments and motives, to move you to choose him for your Savior, and every thing that tends to encourage poor sinners to come and put their trust in him: his fullness and all-sufficiency as a Savior gloriously appear in that variety of excellencies that has been spoken of. . . .

Let what has been said be improved to induce you to love the Lord Jesus Christ, and choose him for your friend and portion. As there is such an admirable meeting of diverse excellencies in Christ, so there is every thing in him to render him worthy of your love and choice, and to win and engage it. Whatsoever there is or can be desirable in a friend, is in Christ, and that to the highest degree that can be desired. . . .

Would you choose for a friend a person of great dignity?

And would you choose to have a friend not only great but good?

By your choosing Christ for your friend and portion, you will obtain these two infinite benefits. . .

I have not read all of Edwards’ sermons, but have read many, and I think this, along with “Divine and Supernatural Light,” is one of the finest ever preached in the English language. For more reasons than what I have stated above, “The Excellency of Christ” should be read; it will make you want to run after Christ!

5 Ways to make your kids hate church

The folks over at Resurgence has a nice post on “5 Ways to Make your Kids Hate Church.” I had to think carefully about points 2 and 3 and sorrowfully chuckle at points 4 and 5.

1. Make sure your faith is only something you live out in public

2. Pray only in front of people

3. Focus on your morals

4. Give financially as long as it doesn’t impede your needs

5. Make church community a priority… as long as there is nothing else you want to do

It’s worth a look. Click here for the full post.

HT: Timothy Dalrymple

Our annual summer sermon series – “Lessons from church history.”

“Bernard of Chartres used to say that we are like dwarfs on the shoulders of giants, so that we can see more than they, and things at a greater distance, not by virtue of any sharpness of sight on our part, or any physical distinction, but because we are carried high and raised up by their giant size.” John of Salisbury 1159.

Every year I preach a series called “Lessons from Church History” where I look at seminal figures from different time periods, gleaning theological and spiritual lessons. My motives are that I enjoy history, especially, the history of Christianity and historical theology, but more importantly, I believe we starve ourselves when we neglect the nourishing works of great writers who have profoundly shaped our vision of God; on top of that, I want our folks to appreciate “the communion of saints” – that is, we stand in a long line of great women and men who have gone before us and have laid a foundation that has been built upon a rock. So much theological literature produced today (please do not misunderstand me – NOT ALL) is wood, hay and stubble, constructed upon shifting sand and is but a poor regurgitation of what was already said long ago – with great beauty, clarity, and fine theological acumen. It is my desire to see Christians jump back on the shoulders of giants in order to see further and be nourished.

In the past years, we looked at figures such as: Augustine, Athanasius, Anselm, William Tyndale, Martin Luther, John Calvin, Jonathan Edwards, and C.S. Lewis. On tap for this year is the Cappadocian Fathers (Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, and Gregory of Nazianzus), Bernard of Clairvaux, John Wesley, and D. L. Moody. I try to pick folks from different time periods and from multiple geographic regions. To the best of my ability, I am trying to get us out of our own echo chambers and listen to people who struggled with issues that we excel at but are far superior in other areas where we seem to be blinded by our own cultural and theological bias.

I am looking forward to the month of August, for I get to spend the bulk of my time reading and learning from great theologians who were imperfect but used by God for the for the glory of His name.

12 Practical Points from D.A. Carson’s, The Gagging of God, Part II

Her is the second half of Carson’s tips for heralding the gospel in a pluralistic culture.

7. Many companies allow their employees, during lunch breaks, to form themselves into various groups or clubs or societies for diverse purposes. It is quite possible to start evangelistic studies in such settings, provided there is just one employee in the company with a little courage.

8. Very frequently I begin an evangelistic series to complete outsiders (university students, perhaps) with something like this: “If you think I have come to defend Christianity, guess again! For some of us, Christianity is so little known and understood that defending it would be like defending the general theory of relativity to a first year arts major. What I shall be doing, rather, is outling, explaining, and showing the relevance of some of the fundamentals of any kind of Christinaity that tries to be faithful to its founding documents, gathered together in a book that we call the Bible. If there is defense, it will be largely implicit. But I hope you will listen carefully as you enter into a world of thought and experience that you may never before have encountered.” I find that some such introduction as that changes the focus of expectations. At the end of each talk, people come out talking about the gospel, not about apologetics.

9. Be bold. That is not an invitation to discourtesy. But boldness, coupled with an unassuing humility that conveys the impression that Christians are only poor beggars telling others where there is bread, will always elicit better attention thank half-embarrassed, semi-apologetic bearing of the person who is more frightened of people than of the living God.

10. In my view, it is usually best (though there are exceptional circumstances that overturn this preference) that these evangelistic sermons be expository messages, not topical ones. Of course unbelievers will not bring Bibles, so it is necessary to instruct people to a certain page number in the book in front of them.

11. Remember that men and women are not converted, finally, by your sagacity, oratory, theological brilliance or homiletical skill. God in his mercy may use all these and many more gifts. But only God is able to bring people to himself. That is ample incentive to prayer.

12. Finally, speaking of prayer, it is vitally important, once again, that we recall how our secular, postmodern society affects those of us who are believers. We may think we are being faithful, when somehow we no longer believe in God of the Bible – the God who is sovereign, the God who hears and answers prayers, the God who alone can save. . . . In other words, it is of paramount importance that those of us who are believers live and breathe in the atmosphere of God-centeredness, of gospel-centeredness. This will drive us to our knees in intercession, and incite us again and again to reform our lives, our churches, and, so far as we are able, our world, in line with the Word of God.