Answers to Protestant claims: A response to James White

James White writes his book Answers to Catholic Claims: A Discussion on Biblical Authority to answer the Catholic who asks, essentially, “We have Tradition as the authority on which we establish and interpret the Bible. Since you reject Tradition as a source of revelation, by what authority do you establish and interpret the Bible?” I read this book in hopes of discovering an answer to what I perceive to be a simply irrefutable train of logic that undermines our ability to reasonably believe that the Bible is trustworthy without recourse to the authority of the Church. White’s response follows the general Protestant rhetoric for affirming the truth of the Bible that I discuss in some of my previous posts, and also adds the claim that Catholic Tradition is anti-biblical. Unfortunately, I believe White fails resoundingly at mounting a cogent argument either for the Bible apart from Tradition or against Tradition from the Bible. I will rehearse and refute his reasoning here with the hope that my Protestant friends and readers will try to come up with some better reasons for trusting the Bible and distrusting the Church (and if you find them, come and tell me also!), or, if they cannot, accept the inevitability that they must believe in both or neither.

PART 1: Reasons to accept the Bible apart from Tradition

What are the alternative bases of authority on which to accept the Bible apart from Tradition? White posits the only alternative that is acceptable to a Protestant: the Bible itself. He attempts to establish the Bible’s own authority on the issue of the reliability of the Bible through several arguments. (1) The Bible witnesses to its own authority, and (2) The Bible’s authority is obvious and self-evident.

(1) The Bible witnesses to its own authority

This is neither scriptural, nor historical, nor logical. White first tries the scriptural approach. He cites 2 Peter 3:16, in which Peter refers to Paul’s writings as scripture. He also mentions a quote in 1 Timothy 5:18 which is sometimes put forward as evidence that Paul ascribes scriptural status to the words of Jesus in Luke, but admits, admirably, that the passage can only be supposed to ascribe to Luke the status of scripture tentatively, at best. Then, on the basis of these two (really one) passages, he says:

“Though these are but a few passages, they give the impression that the writers themselves, though not frequently asserting Scriptural status for their own writings (many of Paul’s commands to the churches partake of an authoritative tone of equal severity to that of Old Testament prophets), did indeed understand that God was about “adding” this new chapter to His revelation of old. This understanding will provide the foundation upon which the later Fathers will build.”

How is the impression that the writers of the New Testament understood that God was adding a new body of scripture to the Old Testament evidence of which scriptures would be a part of it? White uses vague language here as if to conclude that 2 Peter 3:16 enumerates a canon. Is White unaware that other authors than Paul contributed to the New Testament? Which scripture does he put forth to establish the canonicity of 2 Peter, which he uses to canonize Paul (ironically, 2 Peter is one of the most contested and late-canonized books)? Or for that matter, where are any of the four Gospels, the bedrock of the New Testament, declared scripture? Or Hebrews, James, Jude, Revelation, or Acts? Is his proof for these books that Paul uses an “authoritative tone” in his epistles? I do not think anyone would disagree with me that this is preposterous. Ultimately the failure of this argument is not White’s fault; I have researched the scriptures on this topic and can affirm that he has produced all of the scriptures that establish any sort of scriptural status for the writings of the New Testament. The evidence simply isn’t there! We must look to the Church.

White seems to recognize the necessity of dealing with the historical canonization process that occurred within the Church during the first 4 centuries of Christianity. In fact, he gives a good review of the evolving concept of the canon among the Church Fathers leading up to the Council of Nicea, summarizing in conclusion that, “though some books were less widely accepted than others, the vast majority of the material that comprises the 27 books was already in place and functioning as canon Scripture.” So far so good. Unfortunately, he then reverts to his presupposition and blunders, “Long before any ‘church council’ made any decisions about a ‘canon’ of Scripture, the Scriptures themselves were functioning with full and complete authority in matters of doctrine.” If the canon was not completely formed until the Council of Nicea, how could it have been functioning with “full and complete authority” before that? Surely it could not be functioning fully before it was formed fully? By White’s own concept of scripture, its limits, as well as its contents, are holy. Not noticing this inconsistency, White marches onward and denies the role of the Church Fathers’ own authority in the formation of the canon: “There is no discussion [by the early Fathers] of the Church having some kind of ability to ‘create canonical authority.’ Rather, the Fathers attempt to base their arguments upon those very Scriptures, showing clearly their recognition of the inherent (not contingent or transferred) authority of those writings.” White is flatly wrong here! For the sake of brevity permit me to select just one Father, but one whose endorsement both Catholics and Protestants covet: Augustine of Hippo. That great doctor of the church says that the authority of the books of the Bible is confirmed to us by the consensus of the Church.

“The excellence of the canonical authority of the Old and New Testaments is distinct from the books of later writers. This authority was confirmed in the times of the Apostles through the succession of bishops and the propagation of churches, as if it was settled in a heavenly manner in a kind of seat to which every believing and pious mind lives in obedience. (Against Faustus, 11.5)

Elsewhere he says, “I would not believe in the Gospel myself if the authority of the Catholic Church did not influence me to do so.” For a larger discussion of Augustine’s acceptance of Tradition, see this article by Dr. Kenneth Howell. Augustine echoes the consistent expressions of the early Church Fathers on the factors by which they affirmed the authority of the canonical books—they were in accord with the orthodox message of the Gospel preserved through the Church lineage, and were attested by the precedent  of their use and acceptance in the early Church. What is unprecedented is White’s claim that their authority was simply “inherent.” 

(2) The Bible’s authority is obvious and self-evident

White produces another reason by which we can know that the Bible is authentic: it’s obvious! He quotes John Calvin:

“It as if someone asked: Whence will we learn to distinguish light from darkness, white from black, sweet from bitter? Indeed, Scripture exhibits fully as clear evidence of its own truth as white and black things do of their color, or sweet and bitter things do of their taste.”

I deal with this quote at length in this post in response to John Piper’s book A Peculiar Glory, but suffice it to say that this is obviously a subjective basis. White is uncomfortable with that, though, and disclaims, “Anyone who reads chapters 6-9 in Book 1 of Calvin’s Institutes will see that he does not assert a “subjective” basis for the canon of Scripture, but bases its authority upon the author of the words, the Holy Spirit of God.” However, the appeal to the Holy Spirit–a key move in the Protestant rhetoric–remains subjective! I think it was when I realized this that I saw what deep kimchi we Protestants were in. For if we ask Calvin how a man can be sure that the scriptures are true, and he replies, “The Holy Spirit affirms the scriptures to a man,” then we need to ask one more question, “How can a man be sure that the Holy Spirit has confirmed such to him?” Calvin’s reply can only be that he can approve of an impression in his mind by virtue of the fact that it aligns with scripture. This is begging the question, a logical loop. It should produce in the thinking Christian’s mind a large blinking red alert that he has erred fundamentally in his thinking. 

Calvin does not seem to be aware of, or at least not concerned about, the danger of this loop; he does not expect anyone to challenge the obviousness of the truth of the Scriptures, saying, “While the Church receives and gives its seal of approval to the Scriptures, it does not thereby render authentic what is otherwise doubtful or controversial.” But Calvin did not see the great storm of historical criticism and all the modern heresies that would assay knights of scholarship and legions of opinions to tear the Bible apart with doubt and controversy in the centuries that followed. This is not the place to get into it, but I have suspected that the Reformers themselves, in the great schism that shook the western Church, unwittingly unlocked the doors that would unleash the hordes of the enlightenment to terrorize Christianity. It is these opponents of Christianity, intellectually raping and pillaging those Christians who live today in the defenseless fields of a supposed consensus, that have driven me back into the fortress of the Church. It is from there alone we can mount a counter-attack.

Perhaps perturbed by the idea of being caught red-handed in a logical loop, White blames Catholics for making the same error. Citing Karl Keating, he references the Catholic teaching on how we can know that the Bible is infallible:

  • The Bible can be reasonably be trusted to be historically accurate for external reasons.
  • The Bible claims that the Church will be infallible.
  • This infallible Church claims that the Bible is inspired and inerrant.

White claims that this is circular. He doesn’t explain exactly how, but we can presume he means in a pattern that goes something like: “How do we know the Bible is inspired?”→ “Because the Church says so.”→ “How do we know the Church is right?”→ “Because the Bible says so.” However, this does not accurately represent the Church’s stance; rather it shows that if Catholics believed in sola scriptura it would be circular; but Catholics do not. The Catholic Church claims to be right on the basis of apostolic succession, a historical phenomenon whose reliability is independent of the text of the Bible.  If apostolic succession means a historical chain of witnesses leading all the way back to Jesus, then it’s not circular, but linear. You can attack the links in the chain but you can’t call it circular.

White also says that the Catholic church is circular in its claims to have authority of interpretation:

“Once a group determines that any interpretation that is not in harmony with its own teachings is automatically to be dismissed, on what basis can anyone every say, “you’ve made an error”? There is no way of self-correction left when the one source that could demonstrate the error of the Roman Church’s teachings is placed in absolute submission to the interpretive decisions of the Roman curia” (Loc 618).

This is a straw-man of the Catholic teaching; in reality, the magisterium of the Catholic Church bases its interpretations on the precedent of the Church’s historical tradition, and especially the Scriptures themselves. Yes, contrary to White’s assumption, the decisions of the magisterium are carefully weighed against scripture. Look at any Catholic decree and you will find numerous references to both Church Fathers and to Scripture. The magisterium does not make its decisions independently or capriciously. In the end, despite White’s tu quoque, it is only the Protestant who is left begging the question.

To sum up Part 1, the Protestant appeal to the Bible as the authority upon which to ratify the authority of the Bible is not found in the Bible or the early Church, and it’s a logical error to boot. White fails in his attempt to establish any objective means by which, having rejected Tradition, we can affirm the Bible. I do not think it is his fault—none exist. If we are to affirm the Bible, and if we are discontented with subjective means of doing so that fall apart under the scrutiny of modern questions, then our only recourse is to the Sacred Tradition of the Church.

PART 2: Whether Catholic Tradition and the Bible contradict each other

In addition to attempting to establish an independent basis for the Bible, White’s treatise aims to show that the teachings of the Catholic Church contradict the Bible. White is right that the Church should still be in line with the Bible; God does not contradict himself. Therefore, let us enter into a discussion as fellow Bible-believing Christians to consider this accusation.

At the outset we must make an important distinction between what is unbiblical and what is anti-biblical. Something that is unbiblical is not in the Bible (neither explicitly nor as a clear and logical consequence), but is not contradictory to it; whereas something anti-biblical is both unbiblical and contradictory to the Bible. Examples of merely unbiblical teachings, courtesy of Mark Shea‘s book By What Authority?, include the traditional Christian prohibitions of male polygamy and abortion. These prohibitions are not in the Bible, thus unbiblical, but neither are they contradictory to it (not anti-biblical), since the Bible certainly does not endorse male polygamy or abortion. An example of something anti-biblical would be, say, a belief that God has allowed the Body of Christ to stray fundamentally into error, since this is contrary to the promises of God made in Scripture. 

Now, the question is, is Catholic Tradition not just unbiblical, but anti-biblical? White says several times that it is anti-biblical: “Many doctrinal formulations that Rome claims ‘developed’ over time, that Protestants point out are not only non-Biblical but downright anti-Biblical, came about as…a process of slowly departing from Christian doctrine,” and “The doctrines that Rome teaches that are supposedly based upon these ancient traditions…are themselves often contradictory to the teachings of the Lord and His Apostles contained in the New Testament.” Is he right?

No. White has made a crucial error in common with many Protestants: he has mistaken unbiblical for anti-biblical, on the basis of the presupposition that anything that is unbiblical is anti-biblical; that is, he assumes sola scriptura. His accusation is that, since Catholic Tradition exceeds what is clear from scripture, it therefore contradicts scripture, because scripture forbids anything to exceed itIf we begin with this presupposition, we will be able to fairly easily repudiate numerous Catholic traditions and Tradition itself. However, if we do not begin with this presupposition, I assert that we will not be able to repudiate any Catholic tradition. So let us ask, is sola scriptura itself taught in scripture? Does the Bible exclude Tradition as a source of revelation, asserting its exclusivity as the word of God? White says yes. Let’s look at his arguments.

White’s main argument is that the infallibility and inerrancy of scripture implies its exclusivity of authority. Throughout the book, he firmly establishes that the Bible is infallible and inerrant and God-breathed (as if Catholics disagree with this, which they do not). He then somehow concludes that the Bible is sufficient alone. It is very hard to find any attempt at a coherent logical connection to this effect; the best I can find is: “If God is consistent, then His revelation will be without contradiction; it will speak with one voice, present one truth. Hence, if the Bible is His Word, then the Bible will be sufficient in and of itself for the determination of all those doctrines and truths addressed within its pages” (Loc 582). It seems that he is saying that, since God’s word must be without contradiction and in harmony, it must therefore be from one source. But this is nonsense—certainly my wife and I hold many consistent opinions and are in harmony on various issues, though we are two people.

Another tack by which White denounces Tradition is an Argument from Silence. (This type of reasoning, common in historical studies, is basically that if the author had known about or believed something, he would have mentioned it, and that, since he is silent, we can conclude he didn’t know or believe it.) Now, Argument from Silence is sometimes fallacious, though it is not necessarily so; it is sometimes a reasonable method of making soft conclusions. For example, if I read all of my grandfather’s letters to my grandmother during his deployment in World War II, and he never mentions engaging in active combat, I can surmise that there is a likelihood he did not do so, since it is not unreasonable to suppose that at some point during his whole deployment, he would have made at least some reference to combat (combat being pretty worth mentioning to most soldiers). However, I cannot definitively conclude that he never engaged in active combat unless I know enough to rule out other factors that could have affected his silence, such as whether he was trying to protect my grandmother from fear, or whether he was protecting classified information. Nevertheless, some sort of theory can be established from an Argument from Silence. The Argument from Silence becomes fallacious, however, when it attempts to make hard claims that a particular text would have mentioned something, or, having mentioned it obliquely, would have defined it more clearly or explicitly. This is to assume a vast knowledge of the historical, contextual, and personal factors that influenced the author in writing that text, and often assumes they align with the arguer’s current agenda. For example, imagine that I, being of a pacifist heritage, am attempting to show that my grandfather did not engage in active combat in World War II, and I produce a letter in which he mentions landing at Normandy in June 1944. I cannot claim from this that he would have mentioned engaging in combat in that letter if he had engaged in combat at all, since Normandy was, as we all know, one of the most important assaults, and that since he didn’t mention it here, he probably didn’t fight at all. Neither can I say that he only said he “landed” in Normandy, and he would have surely clarified that this was during combat if he had wanted us to know he had been in combat. This kind of Argument from Silence doesn’t prove anything, and erroneously shifts the burden of proof away from the person making the claim.

Well, the scriptures are not silent on tradition, and do not permit a valid form of Argument from Silence; White’s arguments, instead, are of the fallacious kind that attempts to decipher too much meaning out of what particular passages don’t say. Let’s look at several of the major often-discussed verses and what White says about them. First, 2 Timothy 3:14-17:

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it and how from childhood you have been acquainted with the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work. 

White commentates, “Roman Catholics might think this refers to ‘sacred tradition’ that would exist side-by-side with, but contain other ‘revelation’ than, the Holy Scriptures. But this is not borne out by the text, for the message he has received in the Gospel is to be found in the Sacred Scriptures themselves.” How do we know this? White answers with a rhetorical question: “Is there even a hint in Paul’s words that to be ‘thoroughly equipped for every good work’ one needs ‘sacred tradition’?”

Well, the answer to his question is yes. When we are talking about Sacred Tradition, we are talking about what Timothy “had learned and firmly believed” of which “the sacred scriptures” which he had been acquainted with since childhood were a subset or companion. White seems to be implying an argument from silence, as if he expects further elaboration from the author because “it surely would have been specified more clearly.” Or perhaps White means that since Paul only said here that the scriptures were profitable for training in righteousness, he implies that oral teachings he mentioned are not, which is again fallacious argument from silence. Let’s consider another verse, 1 Thessalonians 2:13:

And we also thank God constantly for this, that when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God, which is at work in you believers.

This indicates that the word of God was an oral tradition delivered to the Thessalonians before the epistle was sent. White challenges:

“There is absolutely no indication whatsoever that there is any difference in content between the message preached to the Thessalonians and the one contained in the written epistle. The Roman Catholic Church has no basis in this passage at all to assert that the content of these ‘traditions’ differs in the slightest from what is contained in the New Testament.”

This is fallaciously shifting the burden of proof! If White claims their content was the same, he should prove that it was so, not argue from the silence of the text that it surely must have been so, and challenge anyone to prove that it wasn’t. Let’s look at one more verse, 2 Timothy 2:2:

And what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also.

While a surface reading of this text clearly implies an oral tradition, White says:

“Now are we to believe that what Paul taught in the presence of many witnesses is different than what is contained in the pages of the New Testament? Are we to believe that the content of this teaching differed from what Paul wrote to the Romans, Galatians, or Ephesians?…Why should we limit what Timothy is to pass on to only those things that are not contained in the Bible?”

No one is limiting it to things not found in the Bible, but on what basis does White suppose that it is limited to things found in the Bible? It is again a shifted burden of proof supported only by White’s indignant incredulity.

Here are some more examples of the pervasiveness of this fallacy in White’s book, one regarding Jesus and one regarding the early Church in Acts:

“Jesus gave absolutely no indication that His acceptance of the sacred writings was based upon the testimony of an “infallible church” that told Him to believe in them. They were to be believed simply because they were the words of God.”

“There is nothing in the fact that the early believers in Jerusalem devoted themselves to the Apostles’ teaching that indicates that this teaching to which they devoted themselves is other than what we have in the New Testament! Is there anything that would suggest that what the Apostles taught was different than what they taught believers later by epistle? Do we not have accounts of the early sermons in the book of Acts that tell us what the Apostles were teaching then? Do we find the Apostles saying ‘what we tell you now we will pass down only by mouth as a separate mode of revelation known as tradition, and later we will write down some other stuff that will become sacred Scripture’?”

Although no evidence is needed against such poor reasoning, the Catholic Church does incidentally have evidence that these traditions are not merely synonymous with the content of the scriptures. Basil the Great, a contemporary of Augustine and revered leader of the Church, says that the early Church by the time of the canonization of Scripture clearly understood that there was more to the deposit of faith than the Scriptures. Here is the larger passage, but this excerpt will drive the point home:

Of the beliefs and practices whether generally accepted or publicly enjoined which are preserved in the Church some we possess derived from written teaching; others we have received delivered to us in a mystery by the tradition of the apostles; and both of these in relation to true religion have the same force. And these no one will gainsay—no one, at all events, who is even moderately versed in the institutions of the Church. For were we to attempt to reject such customs as have no written authority, on the ground that the importance they possess is small, we should unintentionally injure the Gospel in its very vitals.

The danger of White’s argumentation from silence climaxes when he says, “The Gospel is defined in Scripture, not in oral traditions, and when a person’s speaking is no longer based upon what is written in Scripture, his authority is gone.” By White’s reasoning, the Gospel that Paul delivered to the Thessalonians and to Timothy orally, prior to their receiving any of the New Testament writings, had no authority (even though Paul appeals to such authority in Scripture!). White would probably dodge this by saying that the Gospel was based on the Old Testament, but this does no good, since White says that the Gospel is not only “based on” but “defined in” written Scripture; that is, unless one wants to say that the Gospel that Paul and the apostles spread was defined within the writings of the Old Testament, which is not merely an obvious falsehood, but in opposition to the very idea of the New Covenant founded on the blood of Jesus Christ, the fullness of Revelation who came to fulfill the law and the prophets. Instead of such nonsense we should agree with the Bible that The Old Testament served as a witness to the Gospel of the apostles, and that this Gospel was an oral tradition before it was written. Thus we realize that the Catholic idea of Tradition is not unbiblical, and we can conclude from this that sola scriptura is anti-biblical!

As a final aside that I cannot help but mention, I think it should be red flag to all serious-minded Christians that White presumes to oppose early Church fathers including Irenaeus, Tertullian and Origen. He says, “Rather than directing people solely to the Scriptures, some of these early Fathers made the grave error of seeking a source of authority outside of the completed revelation of God,” and “As noted above, many of these early Fathers did not have access to information (linguistic and historical) that we do today.” It is a grave error to oppose historic Christianity based on unfounded and unbiblical presuppositions, and to presume that the nature of the faith once for all delivered to the saints is contained in linguistic and historical scholarship, more than in the living Body of Christ on the earth, in which such Fathers were foremost, being the vessels through which God chose to protect and deliver to us both the Bible and the whole sacred heritage of our faith in Christ.

We have gone through White’s arguments and, with all due respect, found nothing but straw. My conclusion is simply to ask if any of my Protestant brethren have anything better to offer, and if they do not, ask them whether they are really willing to “test everything and hold onto the good.” It was a pivotal moment for me when I realized with dawning wonder and no lack of irony that sola scriptura was unbiblical, while a developing, living tradition among the people of God was biblical, and that, if I was going to hold on to my faith in Christianity and my trust in the Bible at all, I had to relinquish the sort of Christianity I had always assumed, and the iron clamps by which I had resisted anything besides the Bible, and step with Abrahamic faith into a larger world of Christianity.

The essential issue

I just reread a series of posts I made over a year ago about gay rights in an attempt to plumb the depths of the Christian stance. It’s always interesting to read yourself from a long while back. Very insightful to read things I wouldn’t otherwise remember saying or thinking. (It also makes me think that I would have to clean this blog before I run for political office, heh.) I suppose I agree with much of what I said then: I still don’t believe gays should be allowed to marry, or that a gay lifestyle is okay. However, I do think that my perspective on how I should approach the issue of gay rights has changed significantly.

Essentially my feeling on the matter is that it’s not worth writing about anymore. Looking back at my posts, considering everything, I just don’t think it’s what I want to focus on. This doesn’t mean I’m changing my position; it just means that, as a believer, I need to play defense on this issue, or deal with it on a need-to-talk basis. This fascinating interview with Rosaria Champagne Butterfield drove home how much overlooking the issue is really the key to dealing with it. If someone brings up the topic, looking for a fight, I’ve got to be like Jesus and hold them off with evasive answers that point to the deeper issues. Often Jesus refused to fall into the traps of the Pharisees and Sadducees when they laid out a controversial catch-22 and held a mic eagerly in his face. He transcended the issues. Taxes to Caesar. Marriage in the afterlife. What authority he did his ministry under. He was a master at bypassing nonessential issues to get to essential ones, and I should have the same approach.

The essential issue that I should focus on as a Christian isn’t homosexuality vs. heterosexuality–in fact it’s not sexuality at all.

Reading St. Augustine’s confessions this year reminded me that sexuality is something to be entirely submitted to the Lord. His conversion experience brought a commitment to total continence and lifelong celibacy. Wow. That’s not something you hardly ever see, at least with express intention, in the evangelical church. Yet it was widely practiced and regarded as superior in the 395 AD church. Is the heart of the married believer any different? No. Being married this past year (since June 2012), I have learned that even in marriage God calls us to lay sexuality on the altar. Whether one partner thinks sex is god or the other thinks it’s gross, or worse if they both err in the same direction, it takes the grace of God to realize that sex is a gift from him, and to have the willpower to stamp it “GOD’S” and let go of our “rights” in the matter.

Reading Out of a Far Country by Christopher Yuan made the final connection between this and the gay issue. He came out as gay and lived that way for several years, getting involved in drugs and drug dealing too. When he did come to faith, it was through brokenness, in prison, through the prayers of his mother. It wasn’t an intellectual decision: he reports his conversion as happening first, then it sort of occurred to him that he should give up drugs, and lastly, his heart already awash with the holy spirit, it dawned on him that his lifestyle was also under God’s say. Yuan never says that he doesn’t feel gay impulses anymore or that he has heterosexual feelings. He isn’t “happily married now with five kids.” Although I haven’t read him further to check, it seems his natural sexual orientation hasn’t changed much. But the most powerful thing that he said in the final chapter was, “I realized God doesn’t call us to heterosexuality. He calls us to holy sexuality.”

Augustine and Yuan brought me to a new understanding of Jesus’ words in Matthew 19:10-12:

The disciples said to him, “If such is the case of a man with his wife, it is better not to marry.” But he said to them, “Not everyone can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let the one who is able to receive this receive it.”

Before I had eschewed the application of this passage to sexual orientation because I had heard it very poorly done by alleged Christians who used it as license for homosexual lifestyle. But that’s not the spirit. Eunuchs don’t have sex. The point is that people abstain from a sexually active lifestyle for various reasons. Perhaps Augustine is one who “made himself a eunuch for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.” Perhaps Yuan is one who has “been so from birth.” (Here I think it unnecessary to split hairs between nature and nurture. My doctor friend Paul assured me that there is no “gay gene” and actually laughed at me for asking. The point being that the feelings or orientation is not expressly willed. And we must agree that this is often the case with those who encounter sexual impulses.)

This passage, together with that confounding one in 1 Corinthians 7 in which Paul recommends celibacy to marriage, seem to make it clear that sexual activity should not control the Christian, or even be assumed as a right or taken for granted. It is granted only to those “to whom it is given”. Christianity doesn’t elevate those who are married (in fact, perhaps the opposite). God ordains marriage as a holy institution between a man and a woman, but there is nothing about marriage or even the orientation capacity to enter it that is of substance in the eternal kingdom. You are not less or more based on your marriage status or sexual orientation, as long as that sexuality is submitted to him and sanctified by him.

The issue with gay rights is the gay agenda, not the people, because the agenda is an ideology that elevates the right to a lifestyle over the message of Christ, that we must lose our life to find it again in him. Sexuality is a smokescreen. It just happens to be a huge part of how humans are wired, and thus a litmus to the heart, but like every single fiber of our heart and every synapse of our mind, it must be buried with Christ in death, until it is raised with him. What part of us will we withhold from God? We will always withhold when his spirit has not overcome us, and we will never withhold when it has.

Thus the essential issue worth chasing, the issue to which all issues return, is an issue of the heart, the love struggle between man and God, the Gospel. In short, I have decided to make my life’s voice more about the gospel and less about issues like gay rights. Of course there is a place for engagement with culture and for articulating the Christian response to things. Yet I am encouraged by the memory that we and our kingdom are not of this world, and that the way to make social change is to champion this one simple message, Christ crucified, and let it wreak havoc on every other sphere.

What are we to make of Jesus Christ?

What are we to make of Jesus Christ? C.S. Lewis responds to a question with a brilliant exposition of his and others’ “lunatic, liar, or lord” logic.

 

 

If this essay doesn’t either make you flushed with joy at the wonder of Jesus Christ or angry that his presumptuous insanity ever became the world’s largest religion, I don’t know what response is left to you. May we deal rightly with Jesus. It is the most important thing we will ever do.

If you want to read the article instead of listening to it, here is a PDF.

An apology to the gay community

To my LGBTQ friends and the LGBTQ community,

If I have communicated that I hold the “moral high ground,” I am sorry. I am no better than you.

If I have shown disgust and wrinkled my nose, I am sorry. That was not love.

If I have spoken too much about your sin, and too little of my own, I am sorry. I am convicted by the words of Jesus, that it is easier to see the speck in your eye than the log in mine.

If I have avoided befriending you, or simply not sought out your friendship when I could have, I am sorry. It is easy to fear what you do not know. But it’s not okay to fear and leave bridges burnt.

If I have been too political, I am sorry. I admit that some of my words have come from knee-jerk defensiveness. I have felt threatened by the more extreme proponents of the gay agenda, but that is no reason to retaliate with acidity. And I get why some gay activists are pissed—they themselves feel like they have to defend against the ridicule and hate of many conservatives. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that so many people bearing the name of Christ have been throwing stones. They don’t speak for me. (And conservative ≠ Christian.)

You have asked for me to consider you normal, to include you in the same category as every other person. I will confess that has been hard for me to do. If I’m being totally honest, I get this uneasy feeling when I’m around flamboyant gays and transvestites. I guess I’ve been raised in an evangelical Christian bubble that has put me in very little contact with you, and taught me to think negative thoughts about you. But recently, since I made my first open LGBTQ friends two years ago, I’ve seen that gay people are just people, with hearts and needs just like straight people. Even the movies J. Edgar and V for Vendetta, which I have watched recently, have helped to remind me that you are just people in a messed up world searching for love and a sense of identity. That sounds quite like my own story. I totally agree that there is nothing essentially different between us. I’m sorry if I ever conveyed an implication to the contrary. I welcome you as my equals and companions on the journey we all have in common—looking for love, acceptance, belonging, and identity in a world full of pain, relational wounds, and unfulfilled longings. We’re all in the same human boat.

But what can stop up that boat’s leak? Where can we find this love, acceptance, and identity? I believe that you are so passionate about your sexual freedom because you believe that the relationships with the gay partners you love, and who love you, will bring you freedom and satisfaction. This is the concern I have for you, because I do greatly care about your wellbeing, and because I believe this is not true. I believe with all my heart that nothing in this world can ultimately satisfy our need for love. We were made to only work when we are in relationship with our creator, not because he is selfish, but because he knows by nature that he is the only real source of all-satisfying love, the water from which our hearts must drink to be whole. All other joys are illusory, being real only to the extent that they contain part of that divine love.

If we make a human love or greatest joy and freedom, we miss the love that does not disappear in death.

If we make a human love our greatest security, we miss the peace that burgeons from totally unconditional love, which only God can give, on the merit of Jesus’ sacrifice.

If we find our greatest identity in a human love, we miss the meaning that rushes in through relationship with the One who made us and knows us better than we know ourselves.

If we only satisfy our need for companionship and intimacy with a human love, we miss the mingling of our spirit with the divine Comforter, who alone can penetrate to the deepest part of the soul.

I do not desire that you stop a behavior or break a relationship or suppress an emotion. I want you to know God, know the joy of relationship with him that comes when you cry out to him with open, empty hands and a humble, broken heart. Let him say to you whatever he will about who you are, and how you should be. (That is his spirit’s job, not mine.) It will be the truth that you need, and it will quench your soul.

So if I have communicated any other message than Jesus Christ, the rescuer and satisfier of every human soul, I’m sorry. He, and what he accomplished on the Cross, is what I believe in, not a political stance or a moral recipe for righteousness.

If I conveyed that there was something different between you and me, I’m sorry. We are human, just the same, in desperate need of the love, grace, and truth of God.

“Thou hast made us for thyself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee.”

— St. Augustine

Holy texts as unholy weapons: rephrasing the question

October 10’s USA Today featured an article by Tom Krattenmaker in the “On Religion” column that was quite an interesting read. The title: “Holy texts as unholy wapons”; the main idea: “The Bible, as well as the Quran, has some accounts of God commissioning barbaric violence.” Krattenmaker illumines the discussion between Biblical scholars such as Lucado, Frazee, and Jenkins on passages of the Old Testament. For example, when God tells the Israelites to destroy all of the Amalekites – every man, woman, boy and girl. Even every animal.

Krattenmaker conveys the flavor that this God is arcane and embarrassing to Christians. Not only that, but belief in such a God could open the door to modern-day violence. The prescription? Krattenmaker cites Jenkins:

Situate the bloody passages in their place and time – a place and time with a vastly different moral understanding of violence and its justifications. A useful takeaway for Christians today is the imperative to spiritually smite…anything that corrupts one’s faith or devotion to God.

For the most part, I agree. The way that God dealt with the nations surrounding the Israelites cannot be imported wholesale today. We must understand the cultural filtering that hermeneutics and Biblical history require. “What would my ‘Amalek’ be today?” Some abstraction and internalization of the meaning of these stories is necessary, if only for the reason that the New Covenant moved God’s presence from the outside of His people to the inside.

I would ask, though: does Jenkins’ reponse carry some subtext? His answer sounds like one made by a person who believes that the commands of annihilation were contrived, and the holy books compiled, by men who only thought they were hearing from God. Is there a whispered message? “That’s what was right for them, in that time, with their slightly archaic understanding of the divine. The question is, which parts do you feel comfortable garnishing your own spirituality with?” What’s the problem with that? It assumes that God was merely a cultural imagination. If those commands really were delivered by an unchanging God, we cannot just relegate our explanation to culture.

Understanding why some misguided, devout people thought that their God wanted them to murder a nation would be rather easy. Delusion. Inferior evolution. Does Jenkins really believe that God exists as he is discretely described in the Bible, and that he was saying what the Bible says he was saying? I wonder whether he would give a straight answer to this question. (It feels to me that Krattenmaker is perhaps insidiously indicting the moral consistency of the Bible, and to the extent that this is the motivation behind his article, we should get a coffee and talk about his objections to the existence of an objectively real God and whether God can actually reveal himself in the world.)

For those (and only those) who accept the Bible as the actual penetration of the revelation of YHWH into a race of doomed souls, the question of what to do with these Biblical passages gets a little harder. We believe in an all-powerful, all-righteous, all-loving God. How God might be exercising fierce wrath as well as unrelenting mercy boggles the mind. Especially for the modern man. Did God really say that the Amalekites were a stench in his nostrils, and did he really command the Israelites to commit a genocide? Our global culture (and many of Jesus’ teachings) champions acceptance, tolerance, and peace. How do we explain actions which at first seem like they come from a being with a radically different disposition than the God of the New Testament? That’s the real question that emerges from this USA Today article. It’s not a question I have satisfactorily answered. But I’m committed to finding an answer that works. So…onward in my quest toward Immanuel.

Is it something I did?

And that question raises another question.  If the message of Jesus is that God is offering the free gift of eternal life through him – a gift we cannot earn by our own efforts, works, or good deeds – and all we have to do is accept and confess and believe, aren’t those verbs?

And aren’t verbs actions?

Accepting, confessing, believing –  those are things we do.

Does that mean, then, that going to heaven is dependent on something I do?
– Rob Bell, Love Wins

Bell is throwing his semantics around a little generously. Yes, those verbs express action. However, they do not express initiation. In every case, these are responsive actions. They are the “polo” to some “marco.” Notice that they are all transitive, unless the object is implied from context. (“I accept” [your proposal].) That’s because these actions imply some other force previously working on the subject.

My going to heaven is dependent on something I do in the same way that raffles often stipulate, “Must be present to win.” In other words, although I have no control over whether my name is drawn, I do have control over whether I get the prize. I could forfeit if I left too early.

So yes, it is imperative that I contribute to my salvation–responsively–but no one would say that my salvation is due to me, any more than they would say, “Oh, how good of Ben, he stayed in the room so well that he won the raffle!”