‘Theology’ Category

By Evan D. Burns

In a sermon entitled, “On an Intimate and Practical Acquaintance with the Word of God,” Andrew Fuller meditated deeply on the piety exemplified in Ezra 7:10—“Ezra had prepared his heart to seek the law of the Lord, and to do it, and to teach in Israel statutes and judgments.”  Fuller made four outstanding observations about Ezra’s character, which Fuller strongly commended for Christian imitation.  Here is what he gleaned so exquisitely from one verse:

1.  SEEK THE LAW, or will, of God
   1. Seek it.
   2. Seek it at the fountain-head.
   3. Seek the will of God in every part of the Bible.
   4. Seek it perseveringly.
2. PREPARE YOUR HEART to seek the law of the Lord
3. KEEP THE LAW.
   1. Dread nothing more than recommending that to your people to which you do not attend yourself.
   2. More is expected from you than from others.
   3. You will attend to practical preaching.
   4. Attend not only to such duties as fall under the eye of man, but walk with God—in your family, and in your closet.
4. TEACH in Israel the statutes and judgments of God.
   1. Let Christ and his apostles be your examples.
   2. Give every part of the truth its due proportion.
   3. Dare to teach unwelcome truths.
   4. Give Scriptural proof of what you teach.
   5. Consider yourself as standing engaged to teach all that hear you—rich and poor, young and old, godly and ungodly.
   6. Teach privately as well as publicly.[1]

One of the most perceptive and potent points Fuller argued from this verse was the preeminence of seeking the will of God in the Bible alone.  Under the first point, Fuller contended:

Seek it at the fountain-head.—You feel, I doubt not, a great esteem for many of your brethren now living, and admire the writings of some who are now no more; and you will read their productions with attention and pleasure. But whatever excellence your brethren possess, it is all borrowed; and it is mingled with error. Learn your religion from the Bible. Let that be your decisive rule. Adopt not a body of sentiments, or even a single sentiment, solely on the authority of any man—however great, however respected. Dare to think for yourself. Human compositions are fallible. But the Scriptures were written by men who wrote as they were inspired by the Holy Spirit. Human writings on religion resemble preaching—they are useful only so far as they illustrate the Scriptures, and induce us to search them for ourselves.^[2]

By Ryan Patrick Hoselton

Christians today have two options: hiding under a rock, or confronting complicated and disturbing moral issues. The past month alone has witnessed an ethical Blitzkrieg on Christian values. From the Gosnell trials to the Marathon Bombing, with two more states on the verge of legalizing homosexual marriage and insecure international relations, believers are overwhelmed with moral conundrums. Thankfully, there are resources from the past that help Christians think through the moral dilemmas of today—nothing is new under the sun. Augustine’s work, The City of God, is an excellent example of such a resource, and while it may not comprehensively address every nuance of our modern ethical crises, it’s a good place to establish a moral framework for working in that direction.

In this work, Augustine (354-430) depicts two realms: the earthly city and the heavenly city. The earthly city is transient and corrupt, and the heavenly city is eternal and glorious. In Book XIX, Augustine explains what differentiates the citizens of these cities: one worships and serves God, and the other serves the self. The worship of God establishes true virtue while self-worship leads to immorality. He expounds this point:

Now in serving God the soul rightly commands the body, and in the soul itself the reason which is subject to its Lord God rightly commands the lusts and the other perverted elements. That being so, when a man does not serve God, what amount of justice are we to suppose to exist in his being? For if a soul does not serve God it cannot with any kind of justice command the body, nor can a man’s reason control the vicious elements in the soul. (XIX.21)

If God is not the master of our actions, then our conduct will serve evil. Service to God subjects the mind, will, and actions to righteousness rather than corruption.

The worship of God grounds not only justice but also true happiness and wisdom. When the saints inhabit the heavenly city, they experience supreme joy because they no longer serve other things. The “present reality without” the future hope of being righteous in God is “a false happiness, in fact, an utter misery” (XIX.20). The things humans serve in the earthly city will not only tend to evil but also to profound disappointment. True wisdom must direct “its just dealings with others” towards “that ultimate state in which God will be all in all, in the assurance of eternity and the perfection of peace” (XIX.20). If believers want to act morally wise in the present age, they must pattern their conduct on the heavenly city rather than the earthly city.

Make no mistake, Augustine warns, for many will exploit the virtues to serve selfish ends rather than serving God. Non-Christians and Christians alike can fall into this insidious trap. Augustine explains, “if the soul and reason do not serve God as God himself has commanded that he should be served, then they do not in any way exercise the right kind of rule over the body and the vicious propensities” (XIX.25). Thus, it is essential for believers to constantly study and cherish God’s commands if they hope to gain moral discernment.

In sum, the foundation of virtue is the worship and love of God. Moral reasoning that is not subject to the service of God is vulnerable to serve all kinds of evils, for “it is not something that comes from man, but something above man, that makes his life blessed” (XIX.25). Augustine grounded his confrontation with the moral issues of his day in this framework, and believers today would do well to imitate him.

St. Augustine. The City of God. Trans. Henry Bettenson. New York: Penguin Books, 1972, 1984.

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Ryan Patrick Hoselton is pursuing a ThM at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He lives in Louisville, KY with his wife Jaclyn, and they are expecting their first child in August.

By Dustin Bruce

Click to enlarge image.

Baptists are no strangers to soteriological disputes. And while generally Baptist groups have found ways to overcome their differences and cooperate for the sake of evangelism and missions, there are cases where Baptist churches and associations have drawn the line and considered another group outside the bounds of cooperation and fellowship. One example of this occurred near Tuscaloosa, Alabama in the 1830’s and 40’s, when differences arose among churches that would form the Tuscaloosa County Baptist Association and the North River United Baptist Association.

The genesis of the controversy can be traced back to 1832, when pastor David Andrews was narrowly removed from Bethel Church in Tuscaloosa for espousing what many considered “Arminian views.” Andrews, along with a number of members of the congregation, broke off to form a new church, which shortly merged with Salem Baptist Church, also in Tuscaloosa. By 1835, Andrews had convinced enough area churches of his theology, that they were able to form the North River United Baptist Association.

The Tuscaloosa Baptist Association, conceived only a year earlier, did not recognize the legitimacy of the North River Association. The Tuscaloosa Association, whose Abstract of Principles was decidedly of the Strict Baptist persuasion, found the soteriological beliefs of the North River Association, as presented in their Articles of Faith, far too dismissive of God’s sovereignty in salvation. As a result, the Tuscaloosa Association refused to recognize the North River Association as Baptists, because they did not first consider them orthodox.

A number of neighboring Baptist associations attempted to intervene, including the Chickasaw Association from neighboring Mississippi. In response to an inquiry from the Chickasaw Association, the Tuscaloosa Association responded in a letter indicating no difficulty has ever existed between the Tuscaloosa Association and the North River Association, since the events causing the separation occurred before the formation of the Tuscaloosa Association itself. Lest you think such a statement constitutes the acceptance and approval of the North River Association, the letter states that upon organizing, the Tuscaloosa Association reviewed the actions undertaken by the churches involved in the schism, concluding the churches they had accepted into their membership were justified “in the course they had taken, and of condemning the others as disorderly, and as guilty of gross Heterodoxy.”[1] The Tuscaloosa Association felt the Chickasaw Association would be sure they were “fully justified in disowning them (North River) as Baptists” after seeing the minutes of the North River Association for themselves.[2]

In 1848, another nearby association, the Columbia Baptist Association, attempted to intervene. A meeting was organized at Pleasant Grove Baptist in Fayette, Alabama the following year. This time, the well-known Baptist leader and president of the University of Alabama, Basil Manly Sr., would preach a message aimed at reconciliation. Choosing Philippians 2:12-13 as his text, the Baptist statesman preached a moving and compelling sermon entitled “Divine Efficiency Consistent with Human Activity.” In the sermon, Manly gave a majestic defense of the compatibility between God’s sovereignty and human free will in salvation. The sermon was a smashing success. Amazingly, the North River Association incorporated Manly’s theology into a new Abstract of Principles. In response, the Tuscaloosa Association began to associate with them as Baptist brethren, ending a nearly 16-year controversy.

By Ian Hugh Clary

Zwinglianism is the view that the elements of the Lord’s Supper are only a memorial and that Christ is in no sense present—what some have called the “real absence” view, or the memorialist view. The Eucharist was a hotly debated topic during the Reformation that resulted in deep lines drawn between the Reformed, particularly the Swiss, and the Lutherans. Luther could barely bring himself to say that Zwingli was a brother in the Lord because the Zurich theologian refused to believe in consubstantiation. It is often noted that Calvin sought to steer a middle course between the Lutheran and Zwinglian forms by offering a “spiritual presence” view, where the Spirit draws the believer by faith into true communion with Christ in the elements. The so-called memorial view had a continuing influence in subsequent Reformed theology, and even more so in broader evangelicalism. But was Zwingli a Zwinglian?

W. P. Stephens, in his Zwingli: An Introduction to His Thought (Oxford, 2001) puts Zwingli in perspective. The heat of Zwingli’s debate with Luther centred on the words of Christ who said of the bread, “This is my body.” For Zwingli, the word “is” should be understood as “signifies.” For Luther this was anathema. At the Marburg Colloquy (1529), though some headway towards agreement was made, the two Reformers could not agree on this point. However, this did not entail that Zwingli denied any presence of Christ in the supper. After the colloquy, Zwingli expressed his belief in the “real presence” of Christ. Stephens, pointing to Zwingli’s works like An Account of the Faith (1530) and The Letter to the Princes of Germany (1530), says, “Zwingli made it clear that the bread was not mere bread, and he began to affirm terms such as presence, true, and sacramental” (105). In the appendix to his An Exposition of the Faith (1531) Zwingli said, “We believe Christ to be truly present in the Supper, indeed we do not believe that it is the Lord’s Supper unless Christ is present” (Stephens, 105). This change in emphasis came with a greater stress on the bread and the wine, both of which were “divine and sacred” (Stephens, 107).

Stephens does an excellent job tracing out Zwingli’s overall Eucharistic theology. After establishing that Zwingli was not really a “Zwinglian,” as the term has become known, he also makes the important point that Zwingli was consistent in his theology from his early to his later years. While his earlier views were nascent, his later views did not contradict them. In 1523 Zwingli spoke of the soul being fed in the supper. Admittedly he emphasised the “symbolic” understanding of the elements after 1524, yet he held this view when he spoke of feeding on Christ. Stephens summarizes Zwingli’s overall thought saying, “The more positive notes in the later Zwingli do not indicate a real shift in his position, rather a difference of emphasis” (Stephens, 109). The concern for Zwingli, as for other Reformers at this time, was the place of faith in the communicant—he guarded against any gracious effect for the unbeliever who partakes. In this, he appealed to the early Luther who emphasized the need for faith. While issues of Christology and philosophy play into their differences, Zwingli was not as far from Luther as the German Reformer thought. Though he they did not share full agreement, Zwingli was much closer to Calvin, whose view Luther was not so scathingly against.

So, in a sense, Zwingli was against the Zwinglians.

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Ian Hugh Clary is finishing doctoral studies under Adriaan Neele at Universiteit van die Vrystaat (Blomfontein), where he is writing a dissertation on the evangelical historiography of Arnold Dallimore. He has co-authored two local church histories with Michael Haykin and contributed articles to numerous scholarly journals. Ian serves as a pastor of BridgeWay Covenant Church in Toronto where he lives with his wife and two children.

By Dustin Bruce

By Jeff Robinson

One of the theological questions I have been asked most often during my first 24 months as pastor has been some version of this query: Do Baptists believe Covenant Theology or is that just a Presbyterian thing? My answer (which is consistently “Yes, Baptists have historically believed Covenant Theology that obviously differs a bit from our Presbyterian brethren”) has puzzled some and made others curious enough to launch your own study of my conclusion. But my dear friend Mike Gaydosh at Solid Ground Books in Birmingham, Ala., the city where my family lives, has recently published two books that will provide plenty of grist for that mill and will provide substantive historical and biblical answers to the question of Baptists and their relationship to Covenant Theology.

The first work is titled The Distinctiveness of Baptist Covenant Theology: A Comparison Between Seventeenth-Century Particular Baptist and Paedobaptist Federalism by Pascal Denault. The point of pressure separating the Baptist and non-Baptist version of Covenant Theology is, of course, the subjects (the who?) of baptism. In the concise span of 140 pages, Denault’s work provides a brilliant historical, biblical and theological defense of believer’s baptism and provides an excellent overview of the consistent, biblical Covenant Theology which the Calvinistic (Particular) Baptists of 17^th century England espoused. Denault surveys British Particular Baptists who held to Covenant Theology such as Benjamin Keach and John Gill and also shows biblically how paedobaptists misinterpret the continuity between the promises given to Abraham in the OT and baptism in the NT and arrive at the conclusion that baptism replaces circumcision as the sign of membership in the covenant people of God. The author traces the points at which historic Baptists and their fellow Puritans parted ways on issues of the continuity and discontinuity between the old and new testaments and argues forcibly that Baptists more consistently held to a biblical version of Covenant Theology.

Edited by Earl M. Blackburn, the second work, Covenant Theology: A Baptist Distinctive, is a multi-author work and includes chapters from contributors such as Justin Taylor, Fred Malone and Walter Chantry. Like the Denault book, this work is brief in compass (161 pages, including three appendices) and each of the five well-written chapters examines a separate issue related to the covenants of Scripture, ranging from baptism to the question of the existence of a covenant of works. Blackburn opens with an excellent overview of Covenant Theology and Malone follows with a discussion of biblical hermeneutics and Covenant Theology. This work, like Denault’s book, offers a well-done overview of the Baptist version of Covenant Theology and I heartily recommend them both for your spring or summer reading.

To order, see the Solid Ground Christian Books website at http://www.solid-ground-books.com/index.asp. Phone: (205) 443-0311.

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Jeff Robinson (Ph.D., Southern Baptist Theological Seminary) is Senior Pastor of Philadelphia Baptist Church. Jeff is the author of the forthcoming book, The Great Commission Vision of John Calvin. Jeff is also a fellow of the Andrew Fuller Center for Baptist Studies.

By Ryan Patrick Hoselton

Ellen Charry’s work, By The Renewing of Your Minds: The Pastoral Function of Christian Doctrine (1997), is among those rare gems that challenge you to consider a serious paradigm shift in the way you do theology. Even more, I think her arguments have implications for historiography.

Charry contends for the restoration of theology that is sapiential (which she understands as knowledge that emotionally engages the knower to the known), aretegenic, and salutary. She attempts to show that the best Patristic, Medieval, and Reformation theologians thought, wrote, and spoke about God in this way. Theologians such as Basil of Caesarea, Anselm of Canterbury, and John Calvin insisted on correct doctrine—on knowing God accurately—because it was conducive to moral transformation and flourishing in the Christian life. Knowing and loving God rightly enables authentic imitation of him, and this is the key to human virtue, excellence, and happiness. Thus, pastoral concern drove their theological reflection and engagement in doctrinal controversy.

The modernism of Locke, Hume, and Kant severed faith and sapience from reason, eliminating both from the category of knowledge. Charry suggests that these epistemic shifts facilitated the waning of sapience from theology. Modern academic theology, preoccupied with pursuing knowledge of God on the terms of this modern epistemology, reduced theological reflection to factual knowledge, scientias. However, for classical theologians like Augustine, the goal of scientias was to move the knower to sapientia, wisdom.Knowing factual things about God must be paired with knowing God in wisdom and love. The verity of a doctrine rests largely in its result. For example, Basil of Caesarea argued that the Holy Spirit must be God on the basis that he makes us more like God and unites us to him—only God can do that. Basil contended for this doctrine because he believed that if his congregants denied it they would not grow in godliness. These classical theologians did not separate scientias and sapientia in the way that the modern Academy often does. For them, theology and pastoral theology were synonymous. Their doctrinal battles and treatises functioned primarily to protect and promote their congregants’ holiness.

Charry’s thesis applies to church historians as well. Treatments in historical theology that are limited to broad sweeps of ideologies could fall into the modern trap of severing scientias from sapientia. Historians must avoid imposing this modernist separation on past theological thought. Church historians are responsible for uncovering the pastoral concerns that lie behind the subject’s theological reflection. As Robert Darnton says, the point is “to show not merely what people thought but how they thought—how they construed the world, invested it with meaning, and infused it with emotion” (Darnton, 1985, 3). The historian must investigate the relationship between a theologian’s ideas and his behavior, shepherding, and spirituality. This kind of historiography will assist theologians and pastors in understanding why historic Christian doctrines mattered and still matter to the lives of believers.

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Ryan Patrick Hoselton is pursuing a ThM at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He lives in Louisville, KY with his wife Jaclyn, and they are expecting their first child in August.

Tri-Unity: An Essay on the Biblical Doctrine of God

From the Publisher:

Early Christian contemplation on the Trinity is one of the most fascinating intellectual and spiritual conversations in the history of western thought.

In this new work by Dr. Michael A.G. Haykin on this bedrock doctrine of the Christian Faith, follow some of the greatest figures in the Ancient Church — men like the missionary theologian Ireanaeus of Lyons, the African bishop Athanasius and the monastic reformer Basil of Caesarea — as they study the Bible, grapple with how to talk about the Triune God and determine what exactly this means for the Christian life.

Their thinking is just as relevant now as it was when they first put pen to papyrus.

“What a rich story this is, and one the reader will understand and appreciate much better because of Haykin’s masterful work.” — Bruce A. Ware, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, KY

“Michael Haykin’s, with his impeccable scholarship, has produced a short, readable account that will help many to appreciate these struggles and to grow in their knowledge of God. Buy it, read it, give it to a friend.” — Robert Letham, Director of Research, Senior Tutor in Systematic and Historical Theology, Wales Evangelical School of Theology

“In a clear and learned way, Michael Haykin connects the Bible to Athanasius and the Cappadocian Fathers…” — Carl R. Trueman, Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia, PA

Product Details

Format: Paperback
Language: English
Publisher: NiceneCouncil.com
Year: 2012
Pages: 75
ISBN: 098825480-8

There has been a lively interchange going on regarding theological education on my facebook page. This will be my final post on the issue of theological education (though I do intend to write, DV, a small book on the issue).

In the early Church context about 12%-15% of the Graeco-Roman world were literate. All of the Church Fathers were drawn from these ranks. They had to have been to be able to use and preach the Word of God.

It is very telling that the Reformation leaders were all men trained in the universities. And it is also very telling that the Puritans, all of them apart from Bunyan and Baxter, were university men, with MAs in theology. Very telling indeed. And the impact of the Puritan literature on the 18th century men is well known: it is a major stimulus for revival. And none could accuse the Reformers or the Puritans of not being lovers of the church and ardent pastors.

And then the 18th century leaders of the Evangelical awakening: which of them had not been to university? Well, there is Newton and some of the key Baptists like Fuller and Carey. But both of the latter were geniuses.

And do we really think in this complex world we will be best served in the church by men without such formal training? We are whistling dixie (no offence to my Southern brothers!) And we all know what happened to Dixie.

For the last two weeks have been pondering the fact that seminaries are of the bene esse of the church. They may not belong to the esse, but it is pure folly to think the local church can do the whole task of training men for a learned gospel ministry without the benefit of a seminary education. I am disturbed to think that we have to convince churches of this basic fact. Do these churches know nothing of the last five hundred years of church history?