Why sacraments and dispensationalists don't mix

Standard dispensationalist teaching has it that the sacrifices will be re-instituted in Jerusalem, as a pre-cursor to the return of Christ. I'm not about to point out the many and varied flaws flowing from that line of reasoning, as I think another author has done so rather well. But the logic leading up to it is interesting. To quote a dispensationalist with whom I once sparred, the nutshell of it goes thus: "Why can the Christian Church have a ceremony commemorating the sacrifice of Christ, but Israel can't?" (Source).

Such logic, of course, is flawed beyond measure. Ignoring for the moment the fact that far more than simple commemoration is going on in the Lord's Supper, I would counter-ask, Who were the first people to celebrate the Lord's death in this way? Game's up, chum: they were ethnically Jewish. So Israel does have a ceremony commemorating the sacrifice of Christ; it's the same one the rest of us have, for there is neither Jew nor Gentile.

But this presses further. Because the next question is quite simple: what about circumcision? My question isn't may Jewish Christians circumcise their sons; obviously, they may. But my question is must they? Does there remain an obligation on Jews to circumcise their sons? And the obvious answer, from the teaching of Paul and the Zeroth Ecumenical Council, is a resounding "no!" And again, it was Jewish Christians who led the way in baptising Jews who became Christians.

On what basis, then, has this obligation passed? On the same basis, I would suggest, as the basis on which the obligation to offer sacrifice in Jerusalem has passed. Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed; the Anointed One has been cut off. The signs have been replaced, by the Lord's Supper in the first instance, and by baptism in the second. And they are greater signs, for they are no mere shadows of the reality.

But, because I can't resist, do these greater signs remove people from them who were previously included? That is, should we remove children from the church when serving the Lord's Supper, or to refuse baptism to infants? Or are greater signs administered to a greater group?

BBC: Megaflood 'made Island Britain'

Of course, the reason this is so important is it could have 'ad effects most profonds on our culture et histoire, et pas seulement pour les nôtres, mais aussi pour ceux du monde entier.

Why economics is too important to be left to economists

…and why we shouldn't let cosmologists have a go, either.

It's a story of two graphs:

The graph on the left was published in the Wall Street Journal as evidence that not only does the Laffer curve exist, the United States government is on the wrong side of it. The graph on the right was drawn to point out that the curve fitted in the WSJ's article was woefully inadequate, and that the data could be made to tell a more convincing story the other way. And both of these were produced by economists, apparently.

Then, in jumps Sean Carroll, a cosmologist who wrote a rather good General Relativity textbook, arguing that the second graph's story is quite simply that a straight line fit is the best for the data here.

Actually, both sides are wrong. The WSJ is less wrong, but Thoma and Carroll are right that Norway is clearly an outlier. The WSJ curve is blatantly silly, since they insist that Norway lie on it but that countries like France and the US lie outside it. If they had discounted Norway, they could still have produced a lovely Laffer-like curve that went through, or near to, the UAE, Ireland, Luxembourg and Australia, which puts every "normal" country either on or beneath the curve, as is proper.

However, the really silly thing is the apparent assertion by Thoma and Carroll that the Laffer curve doesn't exist. It does, watch: lower returns decrease the incentive to earn. The remainder of the proof is left as an exercise to the interested reader. Marks are awarded for using the words "continuous" and "extreme value theorem".

So, did the WSJ find the Laffer maximum? Unlikely, although it looks like 25–30% is about right; and also that on corporate taxation, the UK has some work to do which isn't changing rates. But does the Laffer curve exist? Undoubtedly, unless we all became bees or ants overnight.

So the voice of reason prevails, sort of

The BBC reports under the headline 'Chastity ring' girl loses case that Lydia Playfoot was not discriminated against when her school told her that her "chastity ring" fell within the purview of its ban on jewellery.

And quite right too. She was trying to make this into some major issue of religious freedom. While I fully understand, appreciate and support the aim of encouraging teenagers in a commitment to save sex for marriage, I can't for the life of me see why this case ever needed to be brought; she was clearly in the wrong. The ring is not a religious requirement, and yet she was comparing it with the hijab, Sikh bangles and the like. By contrast, the judge said that "The claimant (Miss Playfoot) was under no obligation, by reason of her belief, to wear the ring, nor does she suggest that she was so obliged."

Of course, the National Secular Society think that this was "a manipulative attempt to impose a particular religious viewpoint on a school", which is just typical secularist nonsense. The only voices of reason seems to have come from the school and the Bench.

As a side-note, the Lawyer's Christian Fellowship was supporting her through this. The LCF is a great organisation for Christians in the legal profession to meet together and support each other in what must, at times, be very dispiriting and difficult situations. But when it comes to their legal work, I'm getting somewhat concerned at the "culture war" approach of the LCF. I'm particularly concerned because the LCF has, very rightly, been backing CUs suffering assault in universities (which really is an issue about freedoms of religion, association and speech) and this kind of clearly spurious case won't have any positive impact on the very difficult situations that some people and CUs find themselves in.

The Bible's focus

A friend and I were discussing at church the talk I'd done recently on Ehud, and he was asking about how I'd seen what I'd seen. I explained that the question I first seek to answer about any passage of the Bible is "how does this tell me about Jesus?" I do that by asking about what the passage teaches about God, how it fits into the Bible's overall story arc, that sort of thing. All that reminded my friend of something he was shown when he was quite young. He drew how the Old Testament looks forward, the New Testament looks back, and they look back to Jesus; and at this point I must apologise for my ineptitude with HTML formatting:

1.          2.          3.

Quite neat, I thought.

Polly-ticks

Yay! Yay! Yay! And … that's an interesting and fresh approach to the government's business. If Gordon Brown keeps this up, I'll not be too unhappy.

Oh, and while we're on the subject of the 'p'-word, "bleh". In the context of the Olympics, "Labour's Lord Davies said there was no question of a 'competitive element'" just sounds daft. : )

EDIT: Oh yeah, I nearly forgot. Would you let this man run so much as a fish shop?

"Mawwiage is what bwings us togevah tooday"

But I want to talk about what happens when marriages fail, 'cos I'm cheery like that.

To set the scene, D-Cameron's got it in for love. He wants to bung about £1,000 annually towards married couples, in recognition of the stability that marriage produces for families. The Government, in the form of Ed Miliband yesterday and Gordon Brown today, said that marriage is recognised in the tax code with inheritance and capital gains allowances. Of course, those are (it's in the name, folks!) capital gains taxes, not income taxes, and consequently, they are one-off tax bills which are shared, rather than sharing regular taxation. Moreover, as the Wiki tells me, capital gains and inheritance form about 5.25% of the total UK tax revenue; income tax is a little under 30%.

Political disingenuities aside, this is another of those policies where the present situation is unsatisfactory and the proposed solution is insufficient. The first option is that the Government gets out of this whole marriage business altogether. While I can see why some people may think that desirable, I'm not convinced. Marriage is a covenant between a man and a woman, made before God and the community. The community has a stake in marriages, and can expect not only for certain social benefits to accrue, but may also offer its support to married couples (for instance, through the tax system), and also encouragement to couples considering marriage. Finally, it may deal with couples ending their marriages, determining who gets which bits of the silverware.

Marriage, as British society presently regulates it on the basis of a broadly Christian outlook, is an arrangement between two competent parties, for mutual support in terms financial, social and personal. Whether religious or civil, it contains a clause enjoining life-long fidelity on both parties. Normally, British courts take a dim view of breaches of contract. But while a dissolution of "marriage contract" can be granted on the basis of adultery, the adulterer is not then given a hard ride financially or personally in the settlement phase. [1] Why? Surely, if society is to recognise the value of marriage, then we must recognise the gravity of breaching those promises?

So while tax advantages for marriage are welcome, I would like to see the penalties for breaking marriages made more severe. The no-fault divorces, which were between 25% and 80% of all divorces granted in 2005 [2], should be decreased as well. But if there is only one party at fault then I would like to see the courts told to take that into account when considering assets and access. If a man walks out on his family or decides that his wife has become boring (and it is mostly men who do those), and the wife sues for divorce, then the courts ought to take a very dim view of that behaviour and require him to support his family financially, taking into account that his personal support cannot be given any longer.

[1] Source
[2] Source; I counted adultery and desertion as clear "fault" divorces, and 2 years with consent as a clearly consensual divorce. Unreasonable behaviour, the largest category by a long chalk, could be a "fault" divorce or just a quick consensual divorce.

Ehud, God's left-handed saviour

It's a funny old story, the story of Ehud. The people of God fall into sin, as they seem wont to do in the book of Judges, and for eighteen years, they struggle under the yoke of Eglon (lit. circle), king of Moab, who fattens himself on Israel. And then, they cry out to the Lord, who raises up for them a deliverer. This deliverer is Ehud, the Benjamite, and left-handed man. He makes a sword, and toddles off to assassinate Eglon, returning to raise the Israelites as an army to kick out the Moabites and their Amalekite and Ammonite cronies, whereafter the land enjoys an eighty-year period of rest.

So what's it doing in the Bible? I would suggest that we can see a few things about God from this story.

Firstly, God takes a people. It's obvious from the story ("once again") that this people is perpetually, habitually sinful. They're small and weak, unable to resist the pagans' armies. And they were told as much in the Law. What a sorry people! But they're a people like me and you. So this story is for people like us.

Next, we see that God punishes sin. It's something we need to hear, because if we do not realise how grave sin is, we can't understand how great the rest of the story is. The wages of sin is death.

But thirdly, God shows grace and mercy to his people. He hears their cry for help, not because they've repented (because that's not what happened) but because of his own compassion. We don't need to twist God's arm to save us; he will do so for his own name's sake.

He gets involved in their situation, saving them by raising a saviour through whom he saves Israel, rather than working from afar. He is so involved that even the left-handedness of a man is important to him. So he's the God who takes an interest in our small matters; but more greatly, he's the God who would take on human flesh to save his people.

And he raises a saviour: this strange saviour, Ehud, this left-handed Benjamite. He's despised by the pagans around, whose superstitions surrounding the left-handed were invariably negative. And he's from the runt tribe of Israel. So he's not terribly well-thought of, this Ehud, just like Deborah, Gideon and Jephthah were all, in their own ways, social outcasts.

Fourthly, God achieves results. He pronounces judgment on the enemies of his people, telling them that though they may have a day in the sun, one day they will stand before the bar.

He wins victory for his people, since the Israelites' own victory is a direct result of the judgment delivered to Eglon, by Ehud, God's appointed judge.

And he gives rest to his people, whose eighteen long years of sin and servitude are now forgotten in eighty years of peace and prosperity.

But finally, God gives the response. You will observe that Ehud, God's saviour, calls the people to follow him into battle. And God's Saviour still calls people to follow him, obeying not out of duty but from a deep sense of gratitude.

But that gratitude lends itself also to joy, because this whole story is a great yarn. The writer of Judges enjoys this story! Eglon, this circular king, and his dopey servants, come in for serious mockery. God's people are able to laugh again, after the tears. So let our mouth be full of laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy; let it be said among the nations that the Lord has done great things for us!

So what should we be saying?

So if I'm right, the Sinner's Prayer sets people off thinking that it's their prayer which saves them. It suggests that God's at our beck and call as regards salvation. It tells people who probably are Christians that they probably aren't, and is likely to be poorly understood by the audience at whom it is aimed. So what do we tell them?

I'm about to do something which looks an awful lot like proof-texting. That's because I'm lazy: I could spend a long time going through various instances of conversion in Scripture—Old Testament as well as New—and looking at what went on. But all that work is fairly succinctly summarised in a lovely verse from Romans.

If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. (Romans 10:9)

So, what are the appropriate responses to the Gospel? Well, they are two: faith, and confession of that faith. What, then do these mean? Faith, I suppose, is obvious enough. We tell the Gospel story, and goodness knows there are so many different ways of doing that, but they will all contain a story of man's guilt and God's grace. Then, we hold out this Jesus and tell people that the blessings of the Gospel are theirs, if they will only place their trust in this Jesus who gives freely to all who will accept him.

Confession can be directed in three ways, and in two modes. The first mode is by using words. We confess to God: I would tell people that, of course, God already knows that they're now trusting Jesus, but most importantly, they can thank him for his faithfulness in the gospel—and for bringing them to personal faith in it.

Secondly, we confess to the Church. So one-to-one, the new convert will, quite naturally, tell the person with whom they're talking. In a meeting, they can tell the person who brought them, or a leader. And explain that this is because trusting Jesus isn't a decision so much as a way of life, so it is important that they learn what living as someone trusting Jesus means.

Thirdly, we confess to the world. They might have non-Christian friends, family, colleagues or housemates. It's extremely healthy for them to tell people that they're trusting in Jesus. And perhaps they will be called upon to give a reason for the hope they have in them.

So, that's the verbal mode of confession. But there's also the baptismal mode of confession, in which we plead for a good conscience before God, witness to the Church of God's grace in our lives, and also, perhaps, to non-Christians who come to the baptismal service. And, of course, in which God promises to seal the regeneration of the Holy Spirit, promises to make us members of the Church, and promises the same to all who trust in his Son.

In a meeting, it is unlikely that someone could fit all that into one's closing remarks: perhaps there would only be time for a request for people to speak to a Christian leader, and for what I term the "convert's prayer", giving thanks to God. But I believe that those are the Biblically-directed responses to the Gospel: faith and confession, verbally and baptismally.

Should we use the Sinner's Prayer?

John Halton's got an interesting project over at his blog: he's trying to "Lutheranise" the Two Ways to Live presentation. And it's a very good presentation that he's producing, too. While I understand (and to an extent, share) some of his concerns about the TWTL material, what interested me more was the question of what we say after we've presented people with the Gospel. After all, it's a story which demands a response, although how we present the right response is often something of a debated point. The most popular response among evangelicals is to pray the so-called "Sinner's Prayer", which runs something like

"Father, I know that I have broken your laws and my sins have separated me from you. I am truly sorry, and now I want to turn away from my past sinful life toward you. Please forgive me, and help me avoid sinning again. I believe that your son, Jesus Christ died for my sins, was resurrected from the dead, is alive, and hears my prayer. I invite Jesus to become the Lord of my life, to rule and reign in my heart from this day forward. Please send your Holy Spirit to help me obey You, and to do Your will for the rest of my life. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen."
(source)

It sounds, to the evangelical ear, like a reasonable enough prayer. It's got confession and supplication in it, hasn't it? It's not overtly heretical. It could use re-punctuating, but who's got perfect comma-control nowadays? But there are also serious problems I have with the Sinner's Prayer, and I'd like to do as good a demolition job as I can, in preparation for a constructive post next.

Problem 0. The Sinner's Prayer is nowhere taught in Scripture as the right response to the Gospel. N-o-w-h-e-r-e. And Scripture certainly teaches things which are correct responses. So why, remind me, are we using this thing, if it is nowhere taught in Scripture?

Problem 1. The theology expressed is usually exceptionally decisionistic (decisionism is the doctrine that God's action follows our decision). So, for instance, "I invite Jesus to become the Lord of my life". No, he invites you to become his child, and demands you respond. He is your Lord already; that's a fairly large part of what the Cross and Resurrection were about. And what sort of a Lord is he who only arrives invited? Of course, not every such prayer is overtly decisionistic: the TWTL prayer isn't, for instance. But see problem 5.

Problem 2. The prayer is the wrong answer to the wrong question. It's normally presented as answering "how do I become a Christian?" but it's not difficult to see why this answer is flawed. Praying is something people readily associate with being a "work", and the Sinner's Prayer tends to encourage people into thinking that there is some work they must perform in order to obtain life, peace and forgiveness. There isn't! If they go to Jesus, they will find in him all they need and more besides.

Problem 3. Our example prayer doesn't contain it, but lots do: a request for faith. There's a slight logical problem there, though, because by-and-large, if you're praying for faith, you already have it. You're really praying for more faith. Of course, some people will insist, after much questioning and attempted persuasion, that they want to have faith but just don't seem able to, and to them I would (eventually) counsel that they should pray for faith. But they, I believe, are the exception and not the rule.

Problem 4. Transactionalism (or the appearance thereof) is another "-ism" that crops up in these prayers from time to time. Closely related to decisionism, transactionalism is the idea that we cut some sort of a deal with God. One example I found seemed to suggest that God forgives me and by way of a sort of repayment, I will worship him. Hmmm.

Problem 5. The whole structure lends itself to "magical" thinking of, at best, a decisionist nature. At worst, it's ex opere operato: I say these words, and—hey presto!—I "get saved". Mutter the prayer and God's gotta forgive me. Even the presentations which point out that it's not the prayer but faith which matters still negate that by teaching the prayer. [1]

Problem 6. They tend to be riddled with Christian jargon. You can get rid of that, of course, but phrases like "ask Jesus into my heart" are not merely cringeworthy, but non-Christians (and newly-converted Christians) are unlikely to have the foggiest notion what this means.

Overall, "Sinner's Prayer" theology is a negative influence on our understanding of what it means to be a Christian. Some may protest that many people have been saved under preaching which has followed this understanding, and many are saved who hold to it now. That's certainly true, and my paternal grandparents owe their call to salvation, humanly speaking, to the ministry of Billy Graham; the faith was then passed from them to my father, and from my parents to me. But it would be far better if our evangelism reflected Biblical priorities and explained the proper response to the Gospel, rather than suggesting a man-produced substitute.

[1] In no way does this negate the need for us to seek ongoing forgiveness for our ongoing sin. I simply mean that to an extremely young Christian, to ask for forgiveness is likely to suggest that we don't have it before the prayer. When we ask for ongoing forgiveness, we do so as forgiven people, who know we are forgiven.

The comfortable TULIP [P]

The last of the five points of doctrine summarised in the acronym TULIP is that of the perseverance of the saints. As has been customary, a definition:

We speak of the perseverance of the saints when we say that to those whom God has elected in Christ, he grants not only regeneration and faith, but also perseverance in that faith, so that, although they may fall into sin or doubt for a time, yet ultimately, they will maintain their trust in Christ.

To be honest, it's rather difficult to say much which is fresh in relation to this doctrine, which is a very obvious and great comfort. Nevertheless, perhaps there is yet something which can be drawn out a little further.

This perseverance is not, as we have noted, a product of our own will-power and effort. Rather, it is the gift of God to the elect in Christ: indeed, perseverance is a blessing of union with Christ.

So, to return to what appears to have been a "theme verse" for this series, we can direct those who have fallen into sin, or who are assailed by doubts, to look to Jesus, who is not only the author of their faith and faithfulness, but also its perfecter. In him, we can find all sufficiency for forgiveness for sin; to him, we can cry "Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!"; and from him, we receive the strength to face temptation and the faith to trust where sight cannot go.

And for those who feel themselves to be 'getting along quite nicely thankyouverymuch', we say firstly, that it is wonderful that they do not feel such problems presently; secondly, that they should be watchful, lest they fall; and thirdly, that such watchfulness consists not in watching themselves, for they will surely fall if they do so, but in watching Jesus.

And if I may deviate slightly from this to encourage people who've been following me over the last few days that there are two ways in which we can keep our focus on Jesus: in Word, and in Sacrament. Be reading your Bibles, and be at church, especially when Communion is shared.

The comfortable TULIP [I]

The fourth point of the points commonly called Calvinistic is the doctrine of irresistible grace, which we may define thus:

We describe grace as irresistible in that when the Spirit of God regenerates a person, they are truly regenerated; thus, the Spirit's regenerating work assuredly results in every spiritual blessing.

If that sounds tautologous—"those whom the Spirit regenerates, he regenerates"—how about this?

We describe grace as irresistible in that what Christ achieved effectually for the elect, the Spirit applies effectually to the elect.

It's slightly more opaque as to why the word "irresistible" is used, but I hope it draws out a little better the link between this doctrine and the previous one, since it emphasises that grace is irresistible in the elect, while to the non-elect, faith is not granted and we consequently conclude that regeneration did not take place. Having said that we can define the doctrine almost tautologously, I ought to mention that not everyone believes it, because some people, perhaps drawing on verses like Acts 7:51, suggest that it is possible to resist the Holy Spirit's regenerating work. However, as I keep saying, I'm not defending doctrines, merely developing them.

So, in what ways is this doctrine a comfort? Well, it is a comfort in that we can trust in God for those who are not believers. You see, if it were the case that people trust in the Lord because of something in themselves, then there would be no hope for our non-Christian friends and family—indeed, no hope for any of us. But because faith is a work of God, we can entrust those people to God, for it is he and he alone who can regenerate.

Moreover, we can be assured that what God says is true, he makes true. He says "let there be light!" and there is light. He speaks a word to the corpse of Lazarus, and his death is reversed. He speaks his eternal Word over this dead soul, and I am raised from the death of sin into life. He declares me justified in Christ, and I am righteous before him. That grace is irresistible gives us confidence in the promises of God, because what he says he will do, he does—and who will stand in his way?

And again, we can draw comfort from the promise of irresistible grace in that we can trust in the Spirit that "the work which his goodness began, the arm of his strength will complete." Jesus is the author and perfecter of our faith: if he has achieved faith for us on the Cross, he also will bring that faith to perfection. Therefore, let us fix our eyes upon Jesus.

The comfortable TULIP [L]

Moving onto the third of our five points, we come to the distinctively Reformed doctrine of limited atonement. I suspect that this is an even more controversial doctrine than that of God's unconditional election, but I do believe that it is a real comfort. As usual, I'll give a definition first. This time, I've basically culled it from John Murray's Redemption Accomplished & Applied.

We confess the doctrine of limited atonement in believing that 'the death of Christ in its specific character as atonement was for those and those only who are in due time the partakers of that new life of which Christ's death and resurrection is the pattern.'
(Murray, p. 71)

Firstly, this doctrine is of comfort because we confess that the death of Christ was an atonement. This means that the punishment which was due our sin—that is, the alienation of God's justice—was borne by Christ Jesus on the Cross, so that God's just demand is completely exhausted, and there remains no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Christ's satisfaction is the only one which can ever be complete: if we were to choose to atone for our own sin, we should suffer eternally. But Christ has suffered that we might recognise our guilt and our total inability, and so trust in his work to save us from the wrath of God.

But secondly, this doctrine is of comfort because we can know that Christ's atonement is for the elect. Consider the alternative: if Christ's death bought forgiveness for every individual without discrimination, then there will be, if I may put it this starkly, justified people in hell. God promises that when he forgives, he remembers our sins and wickedness no more; but the existence of justified people in hell would put that promise in jeopardy, and would call into question the sufficiency of Christ's atonement, for his satisfaction of the Father's justice would not have been complete.

By confessing that the atoning sacrifice of Jesus was applied effectually only to the elect, however, we believe that Christ, by winning forgiveness for the elect, has secured their place entirely. Those for whom he has paid the price completely are exactly those whom he has bought as his treasured possession. Therefore, we fix our eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, knowing that his death bought for us complete salvation, freely given.