the month in snapshots

the year in books [X]

One of my reading goals for 2019 has been to rely on spontaneous picks from the library. It's been a reading adventure, to be sure ("Reading Adventure" is a phrase my wife wouldn't understand and would likely mock, but to each their own!). I've dabbled into authors I've heard about, as well as genres I've never considered, and I haven't regretted it. Harold Coyle's Trial by Fire is a modern war epic about a war between the United States and Mexico; Harlan Cobe's Six Years is about a lovesick professor uncovering a web of lies and deception in his pursuit of a lost love; James Abel's White Plague was a phenomenal book about a possible modern outbreak of the Spanish Flu (with a bunch of drama between the U.S. and Russia thrown in); Chris Carter's I Am Death is about the hunt for a serial killer; Clive Cussler's The Silent Sea is a thriller set in both the jungles of South America and Antarctica; and Robert Heinlein's (controversial) Starship Troopers was excellent (and nothing like the infamous movie). Of the above authors, the ones I enjoyed the most were James Abel and Clive Cussler, and I plan on reading some more of their works this year. 

For the time being, however, I'm putting my 'spontaneous library reads' on hold to satisfy a thirst for historical fiction. I've been itching to read some novels set during the Civil War, and I've put together a list of eight books that will (hopefully) satiate my thirst. Tata for now!

on election and predestination

A friend recommended I look into Calvinism, so I obliged and poured through several books on the subject of Predestination & Election (the two major points of contention between Calvinism and its arch-nemesis Arminianism). Coming from a Church of Christ background, I’ve always leaned towards Arminianism, notably in regards to the belief that people have the capacity to accept or reject the gospel, and also the capacity to lose salvation if they abandon faith in Christ. As I read through major works on the subject, I felt my heart stirred by the doctrine. It’s a beautiful doctrine, it really is, and this shouldn’t be surprising: there’s a reason it’s the biggest approach to systematic theology in the Western world, and why it’s survived since its rugged inception between Saint Augustine and John Calvin (with all the other reformers thrown in between). Calvinism is sound doctrine: it’s derived from the text, fits with a systematic reading of the text, and is cogent with orthodox Christianity. While Arminians like to point out the “flaws” of Calvinism (always attacking, as it were, a caricature rather than the real thing), we should be honest and admit (no matter our stance) that both Calvinism and Arminianism make sense of the biblical text, are simple in their elegance, and speak to issues beyond their immediate scope. Both Calvinism and Arminianism deal adequately with God’s sovereignty and mankind’s freedom, and both present salvation solely as a work of God due to his grace and love (Calvinists often attack Arminians directly on this point, but this is the same sin committed by Arminians time and again: attacking caricatures is fun and easy, but it’s just noise absent substance). The contention between the two approaches isn’t one between “true Christians” and “false Christians” as has often been approached: there are devoted Christians on either side, and one’s position on the nature of election and predestination isn’t symptomatic of the quality of his or her faith. This sort of thinking runs contrary to the gospel and dovetails with those who, in the New Testament, declared that “works of the law” must be practiced in accordance with faith in Christ: by making one’s stance on these subjects a litmus test of authentic faith, we’re in league with the Judaizers whom Paul condemns with a curse. So after reading up on both systems, what’s my take? Before answering that, I want to establish what I believe to be some pretty important points.

a) First, both systems came into existence around the 16th century: Calvinism through John Calvin and Martin Luther, and Arminianism through Jacob Arminius.  

b) Both are direct results of the Protestant reformation and represent Protestantism over against the Catholic Church, emphasizing sola scriptura, sola gratia, and sola fides.  

c) Both systems understand election (and, consequently, predestination) to be individualistic in nature; both systems were derived during the early Renaissance period immediately following the Black Plague of Europe, which served as a violent transition from a collectivistic (group-focused) understanding of identity to an individualistic understanding of identity, which remains prevalent in our western culture today.  

d) Both systems thus understand the New Testament and Old Testament texts on election to be individualistically focused. And yet historians and biblical scholars agree that individualistic thinking didn’t evolve until about 1500 years after the writing of the New Testament; ergo, the New Testament writers couldn’t possibly be writing from an individualistic perspective. New Testament authors, thinking in accordance with their collectivistic societies, would’ve approached such terms as election and predestination from a corporate rather than individual perspective. This means, then, that there may be serious error in both Calvinism and Arminianism insofar as the focus is upon individuals rather than upon groups.

One of my least-favorite college classes has turned out to be one of the most formative. Hermeneutics, the study of biblical interpretation, was more unbearable four hours a week at once than three hours a week spread out. Taking it as a block class, I sat through lecture after lecture bored out of my mind. After slogging through the exam and celebrating my freedom, I tossed away all the books and decided to get on with the “real business” of my education: digging into the little nuances of the Bible in my upper-classmen courses. As I soon realized, those principles I learned in Hermeneutics were quickly put to the test, and in the course of things I found that many of my preconceived notions and interpretations of scripture crumbled, and others emerged from the rubble to stand tall and elegant on the shoulders of plain and simple contextual interpretation. There are three laws of hermeneutics that should be employed when studying the scriptures: (1) let scripture interpret scripture, (2) always look for the simplest interpretation of the text, and (3) context: “How would the original readers of the letter understand what’s written from their own first-century A.D. Mediterranean and/or Jewish perspectives?” There’s a reason my favorite biblical scholars include N.T. Wright, James D.G. Dunn, and Michael Gorman: these scholars investigate the text not from a Western point-of-view but from the perspective of first-century Jews and pagans.

On the subject of election and predestination, then, taking an individualistic approach to these subjects runs aground on the principle that such an orientation in thinking would’ve been foreign to those actually writing the texts. Both Calvinism & Arminianism, taking different approaches to the issues but agreeing that they’re individualistic in scope, are pulled into suspicion. I’m not the only one who’s seen this little conflict (really, I’m not as brilliant as you think I am, and certainly not as brilliant as I think I am), and over the past couple decades a new approach has emerged, dubbed corporate election. While different from Calvinism and Arminianism, some of the concepts tend to be more Arminian in nature, such as the belief in a sort of free will and responsibility for our own choices coupled with the ability to either choose or not choose God by our own volition; but, it must be pointed out, corporate election doesn’t make concessions to Arminianism but, rather, acknowledges that these beliefs were held by most practicing Jews at the time and by the early church fathers. This is important: would the writers of the New Testament, almost exclusively Jewish, propose an approach wildly divergent from Jewish norms without some sort of explanation? And if so, why would the early church fathers (many of whom were friends or students of the apostles) pull a sort of retrograde into acknowledging human freedom and responsibility for faith if the apostles themselves adamantly taught otherwise? That the Jewish assumption and the early church’s assumption (speaking, of course, in generic rather than absolute terms) about these issues is coherent with an Arminian approach and in conflict with a Calvinist approach should tell us something. The New Testament wasn’t written in a vacuum, and if the Calvinistic idea of people being without the capability to choose Christ is true, then we must concede that this is a truth that was here for but a time during the writing of the New Testament, disappeared in the days of the early church, and then “came back” with the Protestant Reformation. Corporate election, I believe, makes better sense of the text, is simple in its elegance, speaks to issues beyond its immediate scope, and fits with our understanding of history. The latter is a big point.

The bottom line of corporate election is the idea that election isn’t God’s choice of this person over that person out of his unmerited grace, or even God’s choice of this person over that based upon their faith, but his corporate choice of the church. Ephesians 1.4, a popular text on election, could thus be read like this: “For God chose us, the church, in Christ before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight.” This reading understands the “chosen ones” not as a collection of isolated individuals but precisely as the corporate group of the church. The focus isn’t on the individuals within the group (the church) but upon the group itself. While this may seem strange, it builds upon what we find regarding election in the Old Testament. Yes, sometimes the word “election” is used in the Old Testament to refer to an individual, such as a king; but, generally, the word’s focused on a corporate group of people rather than individuals. When election is focused on individuals (such as Cyrus in Isaiah 45.1), these individuals aren’t elected to salvation but to some task or mission rooted in history. The Hebrew word for “elect”, bahir, is most often found in the plural, speaking of Israel as a collective entity. Election is collective and national in its approach, and the beating heart of election is seen in God’s choosing of Israel to be his own people. The Old Testament emphasizes the corporate identity of Israel: she’s a bride, a congregation, a flock, a house, a vine, et al. Individuals within Israel understood their place within the wider body of Israel: an Israelite’s fate, be it salvation or damnation, was wrapped up with the fate of the nation of Israel. The focus wasn’t on one’s own interior world, detached from the outside world, but upon Israel as a corporate group within which Israelites found their place and identity. When we go from Malachi to Matthew, this Old Testament idea of election as a corporate rather than individualistic reality is the backdrop; and the very fact that the New Testament uses such terms as “elect” without any side-explanations serves as a hint that the ethos of the word hadn’t yet changed: it remained a corporate rather than individualistic reality.

The word “election” and its associates pops up again and again throughout the New Testament. While Reformed tradition (as well as Arminianism) likes to take this in a sense divergent from Old Testament usage, such a divergence is unwarranted, especially when the texts make much more sense in light of the Old Testament’s approach. The elect are those who are identified corporately as the “body of Christ” (Eph 1.22-23, 2.16, 3.6, 4.12, 5.23,30); they are “members of God’s household” (Eph 2.19) and “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession” (1 Peter 2.9-10). All these terms and phrases (with the exception of the first) are drawn from stock imagery used in the Old Testament to refer to Israel collectively as God’s people. In this sense, God has chosen an elect body to save (not individuals), and that body is, precisely, the body of Christ. Election, then, becomes primarily corporate and secondarily individual, and individual election is based upon whether or not one is a part of the body of Christ, the church. The way all this works comes back to the Jewish idea of representation and incorporation.

In the Old Testament, God chose the people of Israel in Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob/Israel (the patriarchs). The line of “true Israel” was winnowed down from Abraham to Jacob, and the ethnic winnowing stopped there: all of Jacob’s descendants belonged to Israel. Thus all of Jacob’s descendants belonged to the covenant. Jacob thus became the covenant representative, and Israel understood her election to be founded upon her identification with Jacob and her affiliation with the head of the group (going all the way to the top to Father Abraham). Thus an Israelite (it was assumed) was a true Israelite (a member of the elect) by virtue of identification and affiliation with the head of the covenant, the patriarchs (most notably Jacob and Abraham). In the New Testament, this understanding of representation and incorporation is reworked around Christ: one is “elect” if he or she is incorporated into the group (the church) by faith in Christ (the group’s representative head).

The foundation of this approach isn’t some new systematic approach to scripture but reading the text in its original landscape. The first-century Mediterranean world and Judaism was corporate rather than individualistic in its outlook. The first-century didn’t think like we do, and it would not have shared our own idea of the individual. While we find our identity within ourselves and often wrestle with an existentialist need to “discover ourselves”, Mediterranean and Jewish peoples of the day understood themselves not in their isolation as individuals but by their relationships with others (this still holds true for much of the eastern world). One’s identity was bound up in a complicated web of interpersonal relationships, and there was no sort of “real identity” lurking beneath the epidermis. Although individualism dominates our western world, evidenced in our modern readings of the text, it would’ve been wholly foreign to the writers of the New Testament: neither Judaism nor paganism was built to think in such ways. In the Old Testament, one’s identity was founded upon the community of which they were a part. In terms of salvation, it wasn’t that people individually pursued God on their own time, and belonged to Israel at the same time; one’s salvation was dependant upon Israel’s. One’s fate was the fate of the group, and that fate was sealed insofar as the person continued living as a part of that group; only through persistent sin could a person be considered outside the covenant and, subsequently, outside salvation. Salvation always remained something of concern for the Israelite nation as a whole (or, in some cases, for a sub-group or sect within the nation; e.g. the Essenes), and individuals could chart their fate within the group only if they kept within the covenantal boundaries. Mediterranean culture, Jewish self-understanding, and the New Testament’s use of the concept of election without any sort of explanation provides a strong case for New Testament election to be primarily corporate rather than individualistic.

Taking election to be corporate rather than individualistic, we find that the biblical texts make sense in an elegant, simple manner. We’re not forced to interpret certain texts in certain ways, and we’re not bound to explain the inconsistency between the prevalent thinking paradigms of the day and those found in the New Testament. The simplest understanding of election is that understanding which would’ve been commonplace to the original readers of these letters, and corporate election does just that. Even more, corporate election speaks to issues beyond its immediate scope: it makes better sense of some of the issues swirling around the subject, particularly the nature of predestination and the importance of perseverance coupled with the threat of apostasy.

The purpose of election is two-fold, and its primary purpose isn’t what most Christians understand it to be. Remember that the concept of election can be traced all the way back to God’s covenant with Abraham. The Israelites prided themselves on being elect, on being God’s chosen people. In Paul’s letter to the Romans, Paul continually revisits this theme, especially in Romans 9-11, making the point that the Israelites’ pride over their heritage and subsequent election isn’t about having a privileged covenant status but about being charged with a mission. The Israelites were to be the people through whom God brought healing to the world; but Israel became so wrapped up in her election that she forgot all about that. When Jesus came, he did what Israel was supposed to do all along: bring healing, restoration, and renewal to the world. In this sense he was the “true Israelite.” All this to say that election isn’t just about having a privileged status but about having a mission. In 1 Peter 2.9 we find, “But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (E.S.V.) Peter takes stock identifications of the Jewish people—chosen race, royal priesthood, holy nation, et al.—and refocuses them on Christians. Those who put their faith in Christ and who are thus privy to the effects of his death and resurrection are now “Israel.” This doesn’t simply mean that, like faithful Israel, they have covenant status; it means, on top of this, as Peter makes clear, that they have a God-ordained purpose: to proclaim the gospel. In other words, the function of the elect (that is, to be God’s standard-bearers in a world that has set its teeth against him) has now been shifted from the Israelite people to those who are in Christ. There’s a lesson in all of this: the Israelites forgot what it meant to be chosen, what it meant to be elect. It wasn’t about being personally chosen by God so that you could boast in covenant membership and feel better about yourself. God didn’t choose them just because it brought him pleasure. Their choosing, their calling, was rooted in purpose, a purpose that went beyond them to the wider world. God didn’t establish his covenant for Israel but for the sake of the world through Israel. Christians, who are elect, are chosen by God not for our own sakes, or even solely for God’s sake, but for the sake of the wider world. If we become prideful in our election, then we’re committing the meta-sin for which most of Israel stood condemned: we’ve become wholly solipsistic, we’ve forgotten our calling, and we’re on dangerous ground.

Election, then, isn’t just about those who are elect but about those whom God has saved and chosen as instruments to bring restoration to his world. Tying into this, we find in Ephesians 1.4 that God has purposed in Christ that his people will “be holy and blameless before Him.” Throughout Ephesians this purpose is emphasized again and again: 2.21; 3.14-19; 4.1-3, 13-32; 5.1-18. The fulfillment of this purpose, we find in Ephesians 5.27, is certain. But, and this is a point we’ll come back to in a moment, the fulfillment of this purpose for individuals is conditional upon remaining in Christ (Col 1.22-23). This conditionality of election finds its home in the conviction that election is universal, available to everyone who hears the gospel. Corporate election is in accordance with the biblical teaching that God loves everyone, calls all people through the gospel to trust in him and to be saved, and that he genuinely wants all people to be saved (Luke 19.10, John 3.16, Acts 17.30-31, 1 Timothy 2.4, 2 Peter 3.9). It’s not that God looks through history from the moment before creation and chooses certain individuals over others to be saved, and then gives them faith; it’s that those who repent and put their faith in Christ partake in his death and resurrection in baptism and become a part of the elect by virtue of their incorporation into Christ’s body by the power of the Spirit (1 Cor 12.13). Such people are elect, given a new purpose in life and having for themselves the destination of conformity to Christ (i.e. glorification) so long as they “continue in God’s kindness”, as Paul puts it in Romans 11.

This brings us, of course, to the subject of predestination. Calvinism teaches that those whom God chooses beforehand for no merit of their own are predestined to salvation; God’s grace will not return void, and his calling is irrevocable. Thus those whom he chooses will be saved, period. Arminians generally take the same line: those whom God chooses, based off his foreknowledge of who will accept the gospel, are predestined to salvation. The difference between the two is that in the first scheme it’s God who does the choosing and then makes sure it happens by giving his fore-chosen elect the gift of faith; in the second scheme, those who choose faith of their own volition are chosen before the foundation of the world by God’s foreknowledge and are thus predestined for salvation. Corporate election takes an entirely different approach to what predestination ultimately means. Of the six occurrences of the word in the New Testament, all but one come from Paul; in the scheme of corporate election, predestination places its emphasis on the future and final goals God has prepared for those incorporated into Christ. It isn’t about who will become Christians or how people become Christians. It isn’t that some individuals over others are predestined to become Christian. The point is that we, the church, are collectively predestined to a glorious future which God has promised us and which he’ll certainly bring to fruition. This future involves being conformed to the image of Christ (Rom 8.29), full adoption as God’s children through Christ (Eph 1.5), and to “bring praise to His glory” (Eph 1.11-12). This future is, of course, “the Christian hope,” when God will judge the world, bring healing to the cosmos, and restore everything (including his people) to its rightful place. This is the new heavens and new earth, God’s promise of consummation, and it’s guaranteed to the corporate body of Christ, individuals included. Predestination, then, isn’t focused on individuals but upon the corporate body of Christ, and only those who remain in Christ can claim for themselves God’s glorious future for his people.

Analogies help bring some things to light, and one analogy for corporate predestination has been floating around for about 150 years. Imagine the church, the body of Christ, as a ship sailing the ocean (since the analogy first appeared in the 1850s, try to imagine a steam-powered wooden battleship of French make). The ship is on course for its final destination (the Christian hope). This ship has been chosen by God to be his own vessel, and Christ has been elected as the ship’s captain. As the ship prowls the waters, God’s desire is that everyone would jump on board, and he’s made this easy to do through the ship’s captain. Those who accept the captain’s summons and reach out for safety are taken hold by the captain and pulled onto the ship. They’re guaranteed safety despite the stormy weather that may accost the ship, and so long as they remain aboard, they’re guaranteed to reach the final destination. However, if they decide to throw themselves over the side, perhaps not trusting the captain anymore, or wanting to go a different route, then they cease to be counted among the ship’s manifest, since their election is conditional upon their trust in the captain and thus by their presence on the ship (the church, the body of Christ). Although this analogy breaks down when you give it a good stretch (and, let’s be honest, all analogies do; if they don’t break down, they cease being analogies and become literal fact), it gives us a picture of corporate election and predestination. Election is about incorporation into Christ’s body through faith; and predestination is about the ship’s final destination. Those who put their faith in Christ and continue in that faith share the ship’s predestination. But those who decide, for whatever reason, to disembark the ship will meet quite a different fate. “How, then, is predestination truly predestination if it is conditional?” Predestination, remember, isn’t focused on the individual but upon the corporate group: if this or that individual disengages from the ship, the ship’s still going to keep steaming along. God’s going to have his party, and people have the right to court death and decay in themselves rather than life and human flourishing in Christ. God’s party is going to happen no matter what, and if a person refuses to join in that party, it doesn’t stop the party from taking place. The ship will reach safe harbor.

Such thinking, of course, runs contrary to Reformed church doctrine. Many Baptists, too, shirk at such statements about the conditionality of enjoying the party and reaching that “Golden Shore”; many non-Reformed Baptists continue holding to the Calvinistic doctrine dubbed “The Perseverance of the Saints,” painting it with a different color and calling it “Once Saved Always Saved.” Reformed church doctrine, as well as the Baptist hold-out version of the same, teaches that there’s really no such thing as apostasy, of rejecting the faith and falling from grace, but only apparent apostasy. Those who disown their faith (the apostate) were never really part of the elect people in the first place, and thus they never shared in the benefits, privileges, and responsibilities of the elect. Their “faith” was really just a sham, perhaps even self-deception, and their disavowing of the faith is evidence that it was never really there at all. But yet the New Testament is chocked full of warnings about Christians falling prey to temptation, to grieving or quenching the Spirit in their lives, warnings against making shipwreck of their faith or even committing apostasy. If Reformed doctrine is correct, then these warnings are hollow: there’s no point in them. The elect cannot commit apostasy (by virtue of being elect), and those who are not elect but only pretending (or being self-deluded) cannot but become apostate. The writers of the New Testament, however, seem to believe that apostasy can happen to real Christians who have indeed been indwelt by the Spirit, who have been predestined to conformity to Christ, and thus either something’s seriously amiss with the Calvinistic approach or the New Testament writers were just plain wrong.

Corporate election has an Arminian slant in that it acknowledges that apostasy is a real threat, and thus perseverance isn’t just something given but something that must be made true. The elect in the Old Testament weren’t guaranteed salvation come what may; apostasy could be committed, and it was a serious threat which God warned the Israelites against through countless prophets spanning Israelite history. One’s status as elect was conditioned upon remaining in the covenant, and when we come to the New Testament, this continues. Those who are in Christ must remain in the covenant; this doesn’t mean, of course, that those in Christ who continue falling prey to sin will be cast out. Covenant membership isn’t accomplished by our own merit, and it cannot be lost by a lack of merit. Covenant membership is a gift given to us by God in response to our faith in Christ; the only condition for covenant membership is faith, the only way to remain in the covenant is by perseverant faith in Christ, and the only way out of the covenant is by turning our faith from Christ. Jesus’ own warnings against apostasy, and exhortation to “remain in Me” in the latter chapters of John, are founded upon this point.

Individual election and perseverance is conditional upon faith in Christ. But it is unconditional for the corporate body of Christ. Ephesians 1.3-4 tells us that God chose “us” (the church, not individual Christians) in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. Later in the letter (5.25-27), we find this same language: “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” Here we find God’s purpose in grace, his ultimate aim which will be certainly accomplished: this will come to pass. In this sense it is unconditional. Nothing’s going to make it not happen. But, as we see in Colossians, this certain fulfillment for the church is not certain for believers, if they do not remain in Christ. Paul takes the same language he uses in Ephesians 1 and 5 and uses it in Colossians 1.21-23: “And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him, if indeed you continue in the faith, stable and steadfast, not shifting from the hope of the gospel that you heard, which has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven.” Those who are incorporated into Christ’s body through his death share in the destiny of the church, if they continue in the faith. The ship’s going to reach its destined port, but only those who remain onboard will be able to disembark into the Promised Land. In Romans 8.28-39, Paul affirms that the corporate community in Christ is foreknown, predestined, and elect in God’s eternal purposes, and he affirms that all this will persevere to final glorification. The various trials that may threaten Christians won’t affect the certainty of their destiny, so long as they remain members of the body of Christ by abiding in him. The focus, again, isn’t on individuals but upon the elect community. A person who’s not residing in the community has absolutely no claim to partake of its promises. And thus the Catholic mantra is affirmed: EXTRA ECCLESIAM NULLA SALUS. “Outside the church there is no salvation.” Corporate election does justice to the biblical texts, works within the cultural and psychological framework of the period in which the letters were written, and sheds away some of the ambiguities inherent within alternate approaches that focus election upon the individual. In light of all this, corporate election seems to be the best understanding of election and predestination on offer. One of the biggest objections is that it negates individual election: “If corporate election is correct,” it’s surmised, “then there’s no such things as individuals being elect precisely as individuals.” But corporate election doesn’t exclude individuals: it simply reorients individual election. While corporate election is focused on the church, unconditional and certain, individual election comes secondary in the scheme and is conditional upon remaining in the church (the body of Christ). Individuals are certainly elect, but only so long as they’re a part of the group, so long as they cling to the Head, who is Christ. Individuals are included based on their membership in the group by virtue of their identification with the corporate representative. Election begins with the Head (Christ) and filters down to those who are associated with him by faith: it starts with the corporate head and, in cascade-fashion, trickles down to those individuals who are distinctly not the Head but who are incorporated into the Head by faith. That individuals are indeed elect is seen not only in the early church fathers (who would write of this-or-that person being elect) but also in 2 John: in 1.1 John is writing “to the elect lady and her children,” and in 1.13 he mentions her “elect sister”. This woman was elect by virtue of her faith in Christ; she was a part of the church by faith in Christ and was thus elect as an individual; but this isn’t to say that she could not have turned from the faith and become non-elect. Her election was dependant upon her initial and abiding faith in Christ.

In the midst of all the controversy and debate regarding this “hot button” issue in the church, we mustn’t lose sight of what’s most important: election is a gift of God, and those who are elect aren’t to sit around proud of their election but are commissioned with proclaiming the excellencies of him who has called them out of darkness and into marvelous light. We can become so lost in these debates, even committing ourselves to fighting for the “truth” of one side over another, that we lose sight of the forest for the trees. May we not succumb to the trap which ensnared the Israelites. May we not forget that election isn’t about us but about God choosing us for the sake of the wider world.

on total depravity

Without Total Depravity, the entire Calvinist system falls apart. Total Depravity comes as the first letter in the TULIP acronym created to highlight "benchmark beliefs" of traditional Calvinism. As the "T" in the acronym, Total Depravity is the foundation of the following four points. Total Depravity declares that the entire human race is totally depraved as a result of Adam's sin; this depravity is so pervasive that man in his natural state won't choose God because he doesn't want to choose God. Thus, God must choose man before man chooses God. God, then, must decide whom He will save, and He does this prior to the creation of the world; this is Unconditional Election, the "U" in TULIP. Having decided whom He would save, God limited the suffering of Christ to the exact number of the predestined; this is Limited Atonement, the "L" in TULIP. Because of total depravity, the elect are unable to choose God without God's intervention; this is Irresistible Grace, the "I" in TULIP. God bestows faith upon those chosen to receive it, and this bestowal of faith is so irresistible that the chosen cannot refuse it. The P in TULIP is the Perseverance of the Saints, in which God guarantees that those whom He has chosen will never lose the faith He has given. If anyone "falls away" from an earthly perspective, that is simply evidence that he was never saved in the first place, since anyone who is saved cannot fall away. Thus the entire Calvinist system rests upon the authenticity of Total Depravity: if Total Depravity is true, then it follows that the Calvinist system of theology is true as well. Conversely, if Total Depravity is NOT true, then the entire Calvinist system collapses.

There are at least four major reasons for rejecting the Calvinist doctrine of Total Depravity. First, the doctrine of Partial Depravity was the consensus of the early church. Those who don't hold to Total Depravity are often accused of holding to the teachings of Pelagius, who went head-to-head with Augustine over the issue of "Original Sin" (the idea that mankind inherits both guilt and depravity from Adam's rebellion in the Garden of Eden); while Augustine laid the foundation for Total Depravity, which the Reformers would build upon, Pelagius believed that people were born sinless, in a state of purity, without any inherited effects from Adam's rebellion. Pelagianism, however, is not the only other option. Partial Depravity – the belief that mankind inherits a sinful nature from Adam, stands guilty for personal sin, and is able to exercise free will – has been inappropriately called "Semi-Pelagianism." When Augustine and Pelagius went head-to-head in the theological arena, Christendom found itself polarized between the two. Those who didn't swing left to Pelagius nor right to Augustine were caught in the middle; these were the ones who clung to the traditional view of what has been called "Partial Depravity". Historically, partial depravity originated earliest with Irenaeus in the late 2nd century AD.; he declared that all people are "born in sinfulness." Tertullian in the early 3rd century declared that "every soul... by reason of its birth, has its nature in Adam..." Origen, also in the 3rd, declared that "[no] one is free from defilement, not even the day-old child." The marked difference between partial depravity and total depravity is the belief that although mankind is indeed depraved – and very depraved –free will remains intact, which leads us to Reason #2.

The historical consensus of the early church was that men have the responsibility and ability to choose or reject Christ. Adherents of total depravity insist that mankind's will is in bondage to his sinfulness to such a point that he is unable, not as a victim but as a culprit, to respond positively to the gospel, since his natural inclination is to hate God and to hate righteousness; therefore, God must regenerate him prior to conversion so that he can make the choice of the will to turn to God and live. To say that mankind isn't totally depraved isn't to say that mankind is pretty good (Pelagianism, after all, is heretical). The Bible is pretty adamant that mankind is downright evil, wicked, and rebellious. I agree with all the major tenets of Total Depravity with the exception of the bondage of the will. If the bondage of the will was so adamantly taught by Paul (and a handful of Pauline texts are used as proof-texts for Total Depravity), then why did his successors tend to think the opposite way? What makes more sense: Paul taught Total Depravity, and his successors taught Free Will? Or that Paul didn't teach total depravity, and his successors were in league with him? Entire research papers have been written quoting the apostolic and early church fathers on the subject of free will, but here are just a handful:

Justin Martyr (2nd century AD): “And again, unless the human race have the power of avoiding evil and choosing good by free choice, they are not accountable for their actions…”

Minucius Felix (3rd century AD): “For God made man free, and with power over himself… That, then, which man brought upon himself through carelessness and disobedience, this God now vouchsafes to him as a gift through His own philanthropy and pity, when men obey Him… so, obeying the will of God, he who desires is able to procure for himself life everlasting.”

Hippolytus (3rd century AD): “[Jesus] might exhibit His own manhood as an aim for all men. And that by Himself in person He might prove that God made nothing evil, and that man possesses the capacity of self-determination, inasmuch as he is able to will and not to will, and is endued with the power to do both.”

Origen (3rd century AD): “This also is clearly defined in the teaching of the Church, that every rational soul is possessed of free-will and volition.”

Arnobius (3rd century AD): “To all, He says, the fountain of life is open, and no one is hindered or kept back from drinking. If you are so fastidious as to spurn the kindly offered gift… why should He keep on inviting you, while His only duty is to make the enjoyment of His bounty depend on your own free choice?.. Nay, my opponent says, if God is powerful, merciful, willing to save us, let Him change our dispositions, and compel us to trust in His promises. This, then, is violence, not kindness nor the bounty of the Supreme God, but a childish and vain strife in seeking to get the mastery. For what is so unjust as to force men who are reluctant and unwilling to reverse their inclinations, to impress forcibly on their minds what they are unwilling to receive.”

These early Christian leaders don't hold the same weight as scripture, but they do offer us windows into the thought processes of the early church. It seems evident that the concept of free will and the ability to choose or reject the gospel were widely-held in the church era following the apostles. John Calvin noted this as well, and accused the early church fathers of "caving in" to Greek philosophy, adding in his Institutes, "[Even] though the Greeks above the rest – and Chrysostom especially among them – extol the ability of the human will, yet all the ancients, save Augustine, so differ, waver, or speak confusedly on this subject, that almost nothing certain can be derived from their writings." Thus Calvin affirms that the vast majority of the early church fathers ("all the ancients") believed in free will, even though they differed on points. Calvin insists that nothing can be gleaned from the early church fathers, with the sole exception being Augustine. Augustine stands as the "odd man out" in a sweep of patristic approaches to free will, and since Calvin's theology is dependent upon Augustine being right and everyone else being wrong, of course he insists that Augustine is the only one we should pay attention to. So let's pay him some attention with Reason #3 for rejecting the doctrine of Total Depravity.

Saint Augustine laid the foundation for Total Depravity off a mistranslation of Scripture in the Latin Vulgate. "Original Sin" is the teaching that Adam's descendants inherit from Adam's "first sin" both guilt and total depravity. During the Reformation Era, both Luther and Calvin agreed with Augustine on the subject of "Original Sin," decreeing that Adam's sin had two consequences for the entire human race: every person is born in a state of total depravity (or in Luther's terms, "Bondage of the Will"), and every person is born guilty and condemned for Adam's sin (since Adam is mankind's representative). Major proof-texts for Original Sin include Psalm 51.5 (Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me), Psalm 58.3 (The wicked are estranged from the womb; those who speak lies go astray from birth), and Ephesians 2.3 ([We] too... were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest...) These texts on their own prove nothing; the "linchpin text" is Romans 5.12-21. Augustine built the foundation for Original Sin off his interpretation of Romans 5.12, but the Bible he used, the Latin Vulgate, had mistranslated the Greek text. Nowhere in Romans 5.12-21 does Paul speak of the guilt of Adam's sin passing on to his descendants biologically. Jewish teachers of Paul's day taught that Adam's disobedience introduced sin and death into the world, and that all his descendants shared in his guilt (4 Ezra 7.118; 2 Baruch 54.15); at the same time, they acknowledged that Adam's descendants shared in Adam's guilt because they willingly chose to follow in his footsteps (4 Ezra 7.118-26). Paul's writing in this passage reflects the Jewish conviction that Adam introduced sin and death into the world by his act of disobedience in the Garden, that the guilt of Adam passed on to his descendants, but this guilt didn't pass on biologically but by the individual choices of his descendants to engage in willful acts of disobedience. It is by personal choice – not intercourse – that mankind becomes his or her "own Adam." In this passage, Paul isn't arguing for "Original Sin" (a concept he wouldn't have been aware of); rather, he's contrasting Adam and Christ. Adam serves as an antithetical foreshadowing of Christ in the sense that just as Adam, by his disobedience, ushered in a certain type of age (characterized by death, condemnation, and judgment), so Christ, by his obedience on the cross, has ushered in a certain type of age (characterized by life, justification, and righteousness). This text puts the spotlight on the apocalyptic meaning of Christ's cross and how a shift in cosmic history has been inaugurated. All this to say, "Original Sin" (which laid the foundation for Total Depravity) is derived from a misinterpretation of one Pauline text and has little secondary support.

A fourth reason to reject Total Depravity is the fact that the language in the New Testament implies that mankind has a choice to obey or reject the gospel. The New Testament is littered with passages that make it clear that people are able and expected to respond to the gospel in faith and repentance. Those who hold to Total Depravity must insist that faith and repentance aren’t human responses to the gospel but divine gifts imparted to those elected before the foundation of the world. Acts 5.31 and 11.18 say that God granted repentance to Israel and to the Gentiles, but this means that He’s granting these groups (rather than individuals within the groups) the opportunity and means to believe and repent. Ephesians 2.8 is used to show that faith itself is a gift of God; Paul writes, For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God. A better reading based upon the Greek grammar is that we are saved by grace, as God’s part, but through faith, as our part. Faith isn’t a gift of grace and a result of regeneration but a response to grace and a prerequisite for regeneration. Another pertinent text is Ephesians 1.13, which reads, In [Christ] you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit… Here “hearing” and “believing” are aorist participles, suggesting that these acts—hearing and believing—precede the action of the main verb (sealing with the Spirit). The point is that the New Testament calls people to faith and repentance and responding to the gospel appropriately results in the receiving of the Holy Spirit. If Total Depravity were true, the calls to faith and repentance would fall upon deaf ears without the aid of the Holy Spirit, and thus the Holy Spirit in regeneration must precede faith and repentance. It seems, however, that faith and repentance precede the Holy Spirit.

So there are four reasons I don't hold to Total Depravity. Holding to "partial depravity," I don't affirm Pelagius. I believe depravity cuts to the very heart of man, and that we are pervasively evil, even if we retain the ability to choose or reject God. Scripture paints a bleak portrait of the human condition (Martin Luther encapsulated it well with his phrase homo incurvatus en se, "humanity turned in on itself"), and my own heart reveals that depravity remains part of who I am. I'm at heart a selfish, arrogant, prideful, self-indulgent, sinful human being. God has made me a "new creation" and by His grace I've made long strides towards holiness; but any introspective look at my heart and life reveals caverns still in need of God's light, dark recesses where my sinful inclinations continue to kick and scream. If there's any argument against Pelagianism, that argument is ME.

on the sovereignty of God

When we say that God is sovereign, we are saying that God is King. We are also saying that nothing happens that God has not orchestrated or permitted according to his purposes and for the good of those who love him. One of the biggest points of tension between Calvinists and Arminians isn’t whether God is sovereign but how he exercises that sovereignty. While some Calvinists will disparage their theological opponents by insisting that they deny the sovereignty of God, in reality their Arminian detractors are denying the Calvinist interpretation of the sovereignty of God. Calvinists believe that the fate of the cosmos has been determined by God in the sense that he has orchestrated all that will happen; everything that happens takes place because God has decreed that it is so. Obviously this raises two big problems, both of which Calvinists deal with in a variety of ways: “If God is the primary cause for everything, why is there evil in the world?” and “If God causes everything that happens, then why are human beings still held responsible?” Thus we have a paradox: God controls what we do, but we are still held responsible for it. It’s been said that if you want a religion without paradox, become a Muslim; but is there a better way to understand the relationship between God’s sovereignty and human freedom without sacrificing either? Arminians believe there is.

Arminian scholar Roger Olson puts it this way: “Classical Arminianism goes far beyond belief in general providence to include affirmation of God’s intimate and direct involvement in every event of nature and history. The only thing the Arminian view of God’s sovereignty necessarily excludes is God’s authorship of sin and evil. Faithful follower of Arminius have always believed that God governs the entire universe and all of history. Nothing at all can happen without God’s permission, and many things are specifically and directly controlled and caused by God. Even sin and evil do not escape God’s providential governance… God permits and limits them without willing or causing them.” Olson continues, “Does God govern by meticulously determining the entire course of every life, including moral choices and actions? Or does God allow humans a realm of freedom of choices and then responds by drawing them into his perfect plan for history’s consummation? Calvinists (and some other Christians) believe God’s control over human history is always already de facto – fully accomplished in a detailed and deterministic sense; that is, nothing can ever thwart the will of God. Arminians (and some other Christians) believe God’s control over human history is always already de jure – by right and power if not already completely exercised – but at present only partially de facto. God can and does exercise control, but not to the exclusion of human liberty and not in such a way as to make him the author of sin and evil. After all, Jesus taught his disciples to pray ‘Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven’ (Mt. 6:10 RSV). If God’s sovereignty were already completely exercised de facto, why would anyone need to pray for God’s will to be done on earth? In that case, it would always already be done on earth. The distinction between God’s sovereignty de facto and de jure is required by the Lord’s prayer.”

Because God is sovereign, he can create any type of world that he wishes. If he wanted to create a world in which we are all puppets, he could do so. But that’s not what he did. He created us as creatures who have the ability and privilege to make choices, whether those choices be good or bad, and we are responsible for the choices we make. He didn’t have to create a world like this, but he did so simple because it pleased him to do so. Theologians Jerry Walls and Joseph Dongell note that “God is no less sovereign in a world where he chooses to grant his creatures libertarian freedom than he is in a world where he determines everything. Sovereignty cannot simply be equated with meticulous control. Rather, sovereignty is the freedom to choose as one will and to accomplish one’s purposes. If God chooses to create people who are free and to accomplish his purposes through their undetermined choices, it is his sovereign right to do so. Less control is not the same as less sovereignty if God chooses to have less control. A perfectly good and wise God will exercise just the amount of control appropriate for the sort of world he chooses to create.” The Arminian theologian J.P. Holding writes, “Some Calvinist commentators point to various passages of specific events such as the selling of Joseph into slavery (Gen. 45-50), the crucifixion of Christ (Acts 2:23), and the military actions of the Assyrians (Is. 10) [to showcase God’s control over world events]. And they are not wrong to do so. Yet one cannot falsely generalize from these particulars and assume that God chooses to exercise His right of sovereignty in the same way for things like the moving of a finger. Perhaps He does, but perhaps He does not; perhaps He does at times, but not at others. Yet to suggest such a thing hardly removes any sovereignty from God, for a simple reason that [the] decision to do nothing is itself a sovereign decision.”

We have ‘freedom of the will,’ but this isn’t an autonomous freedom; we are still restricted to choices within the bounds God has set. The Bible is clear that God is actively and intimately involved in his universe, in the lives of those who love him, as well as in the lives of those who do not. I believe God has a plan for our lives, but his plan usually isn’t our plan. God’s plan is ultimately for his glory and the benefit of those who love him. The choices we make within life are made within the constraints or boundaries that he has set in accordance with his purpose and plan; there are some things we can choose – to eat broccoli or donuts, for example – and there are other things that we cannot choose (those things which God has ordained). As much as we may try to thwart God’s plans, his plans will come to pass. Jonah fought God’s call to preach repentance to Nineveh, but God got him there anyway; in the same way, God will get us to where he wants us to be, though the ‘contours’ of that trip may be determined by the choices we make, and God will ‘thwart’ our choices that would veer us off from his plan.

God doesn’t create evil, nor does he ‘make’ evil happen. We see in the Bible that at times God orchestrates calamity and disaster, but those are not morally evil; they just suck for everyone involved. God is in the business of restraining evil and working evil towards his own purposes. All evil that happens is permitted by God; if it isn’t permitted, it cannot happen. We see this in Job: Satan wishes to throw Job’s life into shambles, but he must have God’s permission to do so. God gives permission for Satan to do certain things, but those things are within the bounds God has set. Satan isn’t running free; he is forced to operate within the restraints imposed on him by our sovereign God. There is much evil in the world, and God allows evil to exist for a time. Without God’s restraining hand, we can assume that our world would’ve plunged into chaos long ago. As much as we ask ourselves, “How could God let evil flourish?” we must note that we only see the evil he permits; if we were to see all the alternate universes in which God’s restraining hand was removed, we may have a different take on God’s benevolence.

But why would God permit evil? We have instances where God has used evil – born out by fallen men or fallen angels – to accomplish his purposes. Take Judas for example. When God judges evil, it will bring him glory and showcase his justice while simultaneously vindicating the victims. Unfortunately for us, the temporary presence of evil is a ‘casualty’ of the wise system God created in which human beings, made in God’s image, have the freedom to choose or reject God. We must remember that evil will not have the last word: God will be triumphant, he will execute justice, and all will be well.

the year in books [IX]

Too Far Gone, issues 73-78, in which the members of Rick's group settle into their new roles in the Alexandria Safe-Zone, and Rick, as constable, tries to make the place safer by stopping a dangerous man inside the community. But, could Rick and his battle-scarred compatriots be too far gone to live a peaceful life again?

No Way Out, issues 79-84. After the murder of Douglas' wife, Rick and his people begin to step up as the leaders of the Alexandria community against the wishes of many residents. But, the people of Alexandria have a much bigger problem that they must deal with together when they discover they are surrounded by a massive herd of roamers.

We Find Ourselves, issues 85-90. As the Alexandria Safe-Zone finds itself recuperating from the herd attack, Rick begins making decisions that will lead to the long term sustainability of their community. Carl is still unconscious from his injury and it is unclear whether he will survive. Some people also question the bold choices Rick has made for the community and try to take over Alexandria.

A Larger World, issues 91-96. In this arc, Rick is hoping to restart a civilized and peaceful life inside the Alexandria Safe-Zone, but, his group realizes they're not the only survivors out in the world. They encounter a new survivor in the wastes named Paul Monroe, who says he is a recruiter for a group of possibly more than 200 people nearby called the Hilltop Colony. The colony appears to be even safer than Alexandria, but the group soon learns that the people of the Hilltop Colony have some very dangerous enemies.

Something To Fear, issues 97-102. Rick and his group confront the Hilltop Colony's enemy, The Saviors, a group of brutal people led by a man named Negan. However, Rick severely underestimates The Saviors and does not take them seriously as something to be feared until some of his best friends begin dying in brutally savage ways. In the end, Rick is forced into an ultimatum that puts the lives of everyone in Alexandria on the line.

What Comes After, issues 103-108. While the group learns what living under Negan's rules really mean, Rick devises a new strategy to deal with the Saviors. But, before it can be put in motion, a member of the group disappears after the Saviors collect their payment from Alexandria. Rick and Jesus must now call on the help of an exotic man named Ezekiel and his "kingdom" of survivors to have any chance of defeating the Saviors.

on happiness

* from John Eldredge's Walking With God *

"'God wants us to be happy,' I said. 'But he knows that we cannot be truly happy until we are completely his and until he is our all. And the weaning process is hard.' Even though I was playing the role of counselor in that moment, I was feeling that God had arranged the whole encounter for me. 

'The sorrows of our lives are in great part his weaning process. We give our hearts over to so many things other than God. We look to so many other things for life. I know I do. Especially the very gifts that he himself gives to us - they become more important to us than he is. That's not the way it is supposed to be. As long as our happiness is tied to the things we can lose, we are vulnerable.'...

We really believe that God's primary reason for being is to provide us with happiness, to give us a good life. It doesn't occur to us that our thinking is backward. It doesn't even occur to us that God is meant to be our all, and that until he is our all, we are subhuman. The first and greatest command is to love God with our whole being. Yet it is rare to find someone who is completely given over to God. And so normal to be surrounded by people who are trying to make life work. We think of the few who are abandoned to God as being sort of odd. The rest of the world - the ones trying to make life work - seem perfectly normal to us...

I am just stunned by this propensity I see in myself - and in everyone I know - this stubborn inclination to view the world in one and only one way: as the chance to live a happy little life...

[There] is so much in the life that God gives us. As Paul said, God has richly provided us with everything for our enjoyment (1 Timothy 6:17). In Ecclesiastes, Solomon wrote that to enjoy our work and our food each day is a gift from God (2:24). We are created to enjoy life. But we end up worshiping the gift instead of the Giver. We seek for life and look to God as our assistant in the endeavor. We are far more upset when things go wrong than we ever are when we aren't close to God. And so God must, from time to time, and sometimes very insistently, disrupt our lives so that we release our grasping of life here and now. Usually through pain. God is asking us to let go of the things we love and have given our hearts to, so that we can give our hearts even more fully to him. He thwarts us in our attempts to make life work so that our efforts fail, and we must face the fact that we don't really look to God for life. Our first reaction is usually to get angry with him, which only serves to make the point. Don't you hear people say, 'Why did God let this happen?' far more than you hear them say, 'Why aren't I more fully given over to God?'

We see God as a means to an end rather than the end itself. God as the assistant to our life versus God as our life. We don't see the process of our life as coming to the place where we are fully his and he is our all. And so we are surprised by the course of events. 

It's not that God doesn't want us to be happy. He does. It's just that he knows that until we are holy, we cannot really be happy. Until God has become our all, and we are fully his, we will continue to make idols of the good things he gives us."

the reformation: retooling

April was supposed to be all about 'cutting' (focusing more on losing weight and muscle endurance rather than gaining muscle), but I decided to postpone it for another month. I've been averaging about 1800 calories a day, mainly protein and vegetables, and I've continued making gains (i.e. I've increased weights on every major muscle group). I'm happy to report that I'm now in the 'above-average' weight-lifting range for men my height and age! As much as I want to continue focusing on gaining muscle, I'm getting a little preoccupied with my stubborn belly fat. My plan is to alternate 'cutting' and 'bulking' month-by-month. Here's my most recent 'weight loss' collage. I've finally started losing weight again, and I'm clocking in at 168 pounds. My ultimate goal is 155 pounds, and I'm going to shave my beard as soon as I hit 160. "Why?" you ask. I really don't know how to answer that question; it's just something I've decided to do. I hate beards in the summertime, so it's good motivation to stick to the cutting phase this month.