Category Archives: Theology

Is Christianity Absurd?

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In 1 Corinthians 1:22–23, Paul wrote, “For indeed Jews ask for signs, and Greeks search for wisdom; but we preach Christ crucified, to Jews a stumbling block, and to Gentiles foolishness.”

Let’s face it. The heart of Christianity really does sound rather absurd to well-educated minds. When a person steeped in the world’s wisdom steps back and takes an objective look at what we believe about Jesus Christ, Christianity comes out looking pretty foolish. Think about it. The eternal God becoming a human being? That makes as much sense as a man becoming a gnat . . . or a blade of grass . . . or a popsicle stick. Or what reasonable person would believe that the divine Source of all creation—of life itself—could die? And what modern person would ever believe that a dead man could come to life after three days?

The absurdity mounts to such a degree that one marvels that anybody believes at all . . . yet you and I stake our whole existence on such seemingly ridiculous claims! Why?

If you think the incarnation of the Son of God sounds absurd in 2006, try to imagine what it would have sounded like nearly 2000 years ago. Believe it or not, the situation was far worse in the early days of the faith. Imagine how you’d feel about your own flesh if we had access to only herbal remedies to treat diseases. Think about how you’d feel about your body if you had no deodorant, poor dental care, no eye glasses, no corrective surgery, and no way to treat mental illness or depression. Consider how you might view your body if you had no running water, no sewage system, and no toilet paper. If a loved one came down with a debilitating disease, you personally cared for him or her as that frail body and mind wasted away before your eyes. And when people died of accidents, injuries, or illnesses, you dealt with it up front and personal.

Today, we sanitize and sterilize almost all aspects of life . . . and death. But for most people living two thousand years ago, flesh was not their friend. That’s the same world in which the early Christians tried to convince everyday Jews and Gentiles that the holy and pure God took on grubby humanity—flesh, bones, blood, sweat, bodily functions, odors, accidents, and illnesses. You can almost hear the response: “You’re telling us God did what?”

It’s no wonder that over the centuries embarrassed “Christians” have tried to make the incarnational core of Christianity sound less offensive and more reasonable. Some early deviations from the norm sought to down-play Christ’s humanity or deny it altogether. Others rejected His true divinity to prevent God from mixing too intimately with the imperfect creation. Others separated the human Jesus from the heavenly Christ—two separate persons sharing space, like a spirit might possess a man.

More recently in historical critical studies, some have said Jesus didn’t literally rise from the dead on the third day, but “lived on” in the religious experience of the believing community—that the New Testament stories of the resurrection are just myths. In this way the “truth” of Christianity supposedly becomes more acceptable to modern minds. In response, we try to present the truth of the incarnation in language that makes more sense—adapting the message to human notions about what’s reasonable and what’s absurd. We sometimes believe that if we just make the gospel sound more reasonable, reasonable people will believe.

But perhaps we need to come to terms with the fact that the gospel message is absurd by the standard of the world’s wisdom.

Let me turn the tables on this. Unlike the ancient and modern skeptics who find Christianity too absurd to accept, couldn’t we just as easily believe the truth of Christianity not in spite of its absurdity, but because of it? If Jesus Christ was not God incarnate, and if He did not really rise from dead, this would mean the early disciples made up all these stories about Jesus. But why would anybody make up stories that would be difficult for both Jews and Greeks to accept? Why not fabricate more “user friendly” and less “kooky” tales? Tertullian, a Christian of the early third century, put it this way: “The Son of God died; it is by all means to be believed, because it is absurd. And He was buried and rose again; the fact is certain, because it is impossible” (Tertullian, On the Flesh of Christ 5.4).

Is the incarnation absurd? Yes! Is it impossible? Yes! But only a fool would fabricate philosophically-incorrect doctrines like the incarnation and the resurrection if the goal was to convert the world. Yet Paul said, “The foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom” (1 Corinthians 1:25, NIV).

Tertullian was right. Nobody would make this stuff up.

Therefore, I believe.

Left Behind Computer Game

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From the Game Description at the official site.

· Lead the Tribulation Force from the book series , including Rayford, Chloe, Buck and Bruce against Nicolae Carpathia – the AntiChrist.

[NOTE: Of course, the Bible says in Revelation 13 that no one is able to make war against the Beast, and that he will be given authority to overpower the saints.]

· Conduct physical & spiritual warfare : using the power of prayer to strengthen your troops in combat and wield modern military weaponry throughout the game world.

[NOTE: Of course, believers will be martyred for their faith. They will not be fighting a holy war with physical weapons.]

· Recover ancient scriptures and witness spectacular Angelic and Demonic activity as a direct consequence of your choices.

[NOTE: Of course, there are no ancient scriptures to recover, and angelic and demonic activity is pretty much INVISIBLE.]

· Command your forces through intense battles across a breathtaking, authentic depiction of New York City .

[NOTE: See above.]

· Control more than 30 units types – from Prayer Warrior and Hellraiser to Spies, Special Forces and Battle Tanks!

[NOTE: This is ridiculous.]

· Enjoy a robust single player experience across dozens of New York City maps in Story Mode – fighting in China Town , SoHo , Uptown and more!

[NOTE: Ummm . . . where’s New York mentioned in the book of Revelation?]

· Play multiplayer games as Tribulation Force or the AntiChrist’s Global Community Peacekeepers with up to eight players via LAN or over the internet!

[NOTE: How Christian is it to actually pretend to control the Antichrist’s forces in a computer game?]

Comments, anyone?

Capturing and Caging Traditions

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Many corners of the twenty-first century church are drawing on traditional modes of worship, including the use of incense, candles, sacraments, images, creeds, and liturgical prayers. In this respect they’ve sometimes been accused of a “return to Catholicism.” But for most, they have simply gotten fed up with the overly-intellectual worship of evangelicalism. To some believers of my generation, the rigid propositional truths and daunting dogmatism seem to have suppressed authentic spirituality, a vibrant relationship with God, and dynamic, loving relationships with other believers. So, they want a genuine Christian faith free from an oppressive Tradition, but incorporating a variety of “traditions.” This means drawing on non-propositional narratives and symbols that often have an ancient pedigree.

But this is extremely difficult to do well. And to date, I’ve not seen it rise above the level of mediocre.

I find the buffet-style traditionalism characteristic of many new churches to be a little, well, silly . . . or at least juvenile. I have nothing against incense and candles. But picking and choosing which “traditions” from two thousand years of church history to use in today’s worship seems a little ridiculous if we detach them from the history, culture, and theology in which they originally developed. Some things just don’t fit. If I bought a high-end piece of antique furniture from an estate sale and placed it in my living room, it would look silly. In the same way, I’ve seen evangelicals try to incorporate ancient rites and rituals into their worship in ways that make me cringe.

Labyrinths, prayers of the saints, stations of the cross, and other practices associated with Roman Catholicism or eastern catholic mysticism enjoy a new audience among some Christians seeking a different type of spiritual devotion—a deep, authentic, meaningful Christian experience. But I see very little sense of theological coherence, a clear notion of what is central, how these things fit together, the stories they try to tell. Let’s set aside the whole question of epistemology and propositional truth for a moment. When Christians try to weave together premodern practices like these, they often apply very modernistic anthropocentric criteria of individual preference. However, the new drive for community authenticity is not much different than the by-gone quest for personal certainty: in the end my personal reason or emotions reign.

The result of harvesting “traditions” from church history is not much more appealing to me than the old-style zoo that zoological societies have tried to replace over the last several decades. Remember when we used to rip God’s creatures from their natural habitats and cram them into rows and rows of jail cells for spectators to “enjoy.” In many ways today’s rip-off of ancient traditions is worse. Some have gone on a “Bring ’Em Back Alive” safari, snared a handful of appealing practices from the jungles of church history, killed them, and now display them in their two-year-old churches like disparate plush toys spread over a toddler’s bed.

I like tradition. I like it a lot.

But I don’t like watching people mishandle it.

Please stop.

Limited Atonement, 1 John 2:2, and Polycarp

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There are a number of passages in the New Testament to which four-point Calvinists refer in debates against those who hold to the doctrine of “limited” or “particular” atonement (e.g., 2 Peter 2:1; 1 John 2:2; 1 Timothy 2:4–6; 4:10; Hebrews 2:9; and Acts 17:30). Indeed, the arguments on either side of the exegesis are not air tight. One of the most difficult passages for those who hold to limited atonement is 1 John 2:2, which says, “He Himself is the propitiation for our sins; and not for ours only, but also of the whole world.” The phrase “the whole world” later in 1 John 5:19 seems to refer to all people without exception—especially unbelievers. At the level of pure exegetical considerations—isolated and insulated from its historical and theological context—the passage seems, as Ryrie says, “to say rather clearly that the death of Christ was for the whole world” (Ryrie, Basic Theology, 321).

However, if we open our interpretation of 1 John 2:2 to the insights of the historical and theological context, the picture becomes, well, less clear than critics of limited atonement may think. The Martyrdom of Polycarp was written around AD 155 by Christians in Smyrna shortly after their bishop, Polycarp, was martyred in the stadium there. Polycarp, recall, was a personal disciple of the apostle John, and was—according to reliable tradition—one of many Asian pastors who had been ordained into pastoral ministry by John while he lived in Ephesus. In fact, if the “angels” of Revelation 2 and 3 refer to the pastors (or bishops) of those churches, as some commentators say, Polycarp may have been the “angel” of the church of Smyrna. Anyway, Polycarp is also one of the earliest witnesses we have of 1 John, as he seems to rely on 1 John 3:8 and 4:2–3 in his Letter to the Philippians 7. In short, Polycarp knew John’s writings and probably knew John himself.

With this historical background in mind, the statement of the Smyrnaeans in Martyrdom of Polycarp 17.2 is rather interesting as we consider the issue of 1 John 2:2 and debates between those who hold to limited atonement and those who do not. The Smyrnaeans wrote: “They [the pagans] did not know that we [Christians] will never be able either to abandon the Christ who suffered for the salvation of the whole world of those who are saved, the blameless on behalf of sinners, or to worship anyone else.”

So, the Smyrnaeans refer to the “whole world” with the exact language as the apostle John in reference not to all people everywhere, but to the world of the saved. That is to say, Christ is savior of the “catholic” church. He not only died for the sins of their own community in Asia Minor (as local deities or gods might be the “savior” of that particular community), but also for the sins of the whole world (as the universal savior of all believers throughout the world).

This passage in Martyrdom of Polycarp may amount to an indirect commentary or interpretation of 1 John 2:2. In fact, it could very well reflect the apostle John’s intended meaning of that passage. If the Smyrnaean authors of Martyrdom were reflecting Polycarp’s understanding of 1 John 2:2 (which to me is almost certain), Polycarp may have been relaying John’s original understanding of that phrase (which is possible), since Polycarp knew John.

A good friend of mine has pointed out that John Owen refers to this statement by the Smyrnaeans as patristic testimony for limited atonement in his Death of Death (Banner of Truth edition, page 310). Owen does not, however, elaborate on the implications of this statement by the Smyrnaeans with regard to their personal (and therefore theological) relationship to John through Polycarp.

Those who hold to limited atonement may feel that their own interpretation of 1 John 2:2 is strengthened by these historical considerations, since we might have a window (through Polycarp) into the apostle John’s own intention of the passage. However, those who reject limited atonement may still do so, even appealing to their own understanding of this and other passages. But to be fair, those who reject limited atonement can not claim that 1 John 2:2 is a clear proof text against that irritating third point of Calvinism.

The Center and the Source

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Think for a moment before you answer this question: What is the center of your theology?

The instant response from those of us firmly footed in the Bible church movement might be “the Bible.” After all, the Bible is the written word of God, the only inerrant and infallible source of truth, the treasure house of spiritual wisdom and divine revelation. What else could stand as the center of our theology?

Nevertheless, back in 1883 C. I. Scofield declared, “Jesus of Nazareth is the center and source of my theology.” And he accepted the divine origin and authority of Scripture “because Jesus did” (Records of the First Congregational Church of Dallas, page 35).

Even if your answer matched Scofield’s, is Jesus Christ really the center of your theology?

Discerning the Center

The doctrinal statement of Scofield Memorial Church reads: “We believe that all the Scriptures center about the Lord Jesus Christ in His person and work in His first and second coming, and hence that no portion, even of the Old Testament, is properly read, or understood, until it leads to Him.” Our Bible church tradition has long strived to place the person and work of Jesus Christ at the center of the Bible and therefore at the center of our theology and practice. This Christ-centered tradition goes back further than C. I. Scofield. In fact, its origins are found with Jesus and the apostles.

Christ said, “You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; it is these that testify about Me” (John 5:39). And Luke gives this account of Christ’s instruction after His resurrection: “Then beginning with Moses and with all the prophets, He explained to them the things concerning Himself in all the Scriptures” (Luke 24:27). Paul used the same Old Testament to convince people that Jesus was the Messiah who died and rose again (Acts 17:2–3). And he declared in his letters that the gospel of the person and work of Christ was foreshadowed in Old Testament Scripture (Romans 1:1–4; 1 Corinthians 15:1–5). Clearly, the center of Scripture is Jesus Christ.

The generation following the disciples also saw Jesus Christ as the center. Around the year AD 110, while being transported by soldiers to Rome for execution, Ignatius, pastor of Antioch, passed through the city of Philadelphia in Asia Minor. During his brief visit there, he had a run-in with some Judaizers who refused to accept the Christian teachings about Jesus unless they could find them clearly spelled out in the Old Testament (Ignatius, Philadelphians 8.2). The very issue was whether or not Jesus Christ stood at the center of revealed truth. The exchange went something like this:

JUDAIZERS: If we can’t see it plainly written in the Old Testament, we won’t believe it in the gospel.

IGNATIUS: Well, then, let’s just look at what the Old Testament says. If you look at this passage here, you’ll see what’s written about Christ. . . .

JUDAIZERS: Hah! That’s precisely the question! You’re reading Jesus into the Bible! The Scriptures alone must be the standard of truth.

IGNATIUS: No! For me the standard is Jesus Christ. The unbreakable standard is His cross, death, resurrection, and the faith which comes through Him. These are the things by which we are justified.

For Ignatius, the question was not whether Scripture was authoritative, inerrant, and the source of inviolable truth. All true Christians believed that. The issue was how to read Scripture correctly. Ignatius’s response reveals that the person and work of Jesus Christ stood at the center of his theology.

Keeping the Center in the Source

Of course, the Bible is the only inerrant source of information about Jesus Christ available to us today. The Bible is the reliable source for the person and work of Christ. However, just because we accept the supreme doctrinal authority of Scripture as the source, this doesn’t guarantee that we always interpret it correctly. Like the Jews in the days of Jesus and the Judaizers in the days of Ignatius, we will misinterpret the Bible if Jesus Christ does not stand at the center. If we read the Bible in isolation from the person and work of Christ, we’ve handled it wrongly.

How does this affect us practically? What does it mean to us today that Jesus Christ is the center of Scripture and theology? How does it change the way we read the Bible? Or the way we live our lives?

Frankly, sometimes I get the feeling that we evangelicals have forgotten that Jesus Christ is the center of Scripture and theology. Sometimes I feel we’ve crossed the line and placed the Bible at the center while banishing Jesus to the corner. While we’ve honed our skills in exegesis, we’ve inadvertently committed “exe-Jesus.” While we’ve mined gems of practical principles from Scripture, we’ve lost sight of Jesus—the pearl of great price. And sometimes our doctrinal schemes have become doctrinal scandals because they’ve made the person and work of Christ merely one numbered article among a dozen unrelated creedal planks. And preachers have been bullied so much by our “How-to” culture demanding practical advice that they’re sometimes forced to treat the Christ-centered Bible like a Me-centered instruction manual.

What’s the solution? Bible studies on how to have a healthy marriage must stop if they don’t point to Jesus Christ as the model of love and fidelity. Workshops on handling finances are worthless if they don’t lead us to the priceless payment of Christ and canceled debt of His cross. Lessons on how to overcome sin amount to Christ-less psycho-babble if Jesus doesn’t stand as the source of new life and resurrection power. All these things may be helpful, but without Christ they are not uniquely Christian.

The Bible is not a book about dos, don’ts, rules, regulations, financial advice, marriage pointers, or frame-friendly words of inspiration. The Bible is about the eternal, divine Son of God. He revealed the Father’s will, became incarnate as a man to die for our sins, and rose from the dead. He works through the Spirit and the written word of God to accomplish His will in us and in His church. He will return to transform all creation under His perfect rule.

C. I. Scofield was right: Jesus Christ is the center. He always has been. Therefore, we must all be careful in our devotions, study, teaching, and worship not to relegate Him to a footnote.