Tag: church

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Overview of Stephen Wolfe’s “The Case for Christian Nationalism,” Introduction

flag of the usa on a pole

Stephen Wolfe’s work attempts to place God in his rightful, public place in a nation. The question is not whether we should contemplate such a proposition but in what way such a proposition needs to be installed. The absence of God in the public square is the de facto law of the land (2). Wolfe argues in his introduction that the leaders of our Christian society function as passive participants in the public square giving room for Rousseau’s disciples to rule over us while we bask in our pietism.

The book’s purpose is to “enliven in the hearts of Christians a sense of home and hearth and a love of people and country out of which springs action for their good” (5). This rekindling of the oikos receives even more precision when he defines a particular kind of nationalism. He sets the stage for what will be developed through the leviathan of 476 pages:

Christian nationalism is a totality of national action, consisting of civil laws and social customs, conducted by a Christian nation as a Christian nation to procure for itself both earthly and heavenly good in Christ (9).

He delves even deeper in his precision by arguing for a particular brand of Christian nationalism. He makes it clear in a footnote that he is “advancing a more Presbyterian form of Christian nationalism” (9). Nevertheless, he is at ease with a pan-Protestant vision where other traditions can incorporate their distinct contributions to the overall project. Such nationalism seeks to obtain the heavenly good, namely in Christ (11). This distinctly Christian platform provides the impetus for a totality of national action, which ranges from acts of sacrifice to mundane affairs (12). Christian nationalism functions consciously of its Christian status, working to define itself based on that fundamental identity.

The nation, then, serves to protect the administration of Word and Sacrament and to encourage society to partake of these things and “be saved unto eternal life” (15). The complete good of the nation is at the forefront of such endeavor and the only good is that which derives its meaning in Christ.

Evangelical and Reformed readers may become somewhat skeptical of Wolfe’s work when they note that he makes “little effort to exegete the text” (16) since he is not a theologian or biblical scholar. Nevertheless, he assumes a Reformed theological tradition and believes that such conclusions are drawn from the text. Further, he grounded his labors in 16th-17th centuries Thomistic premises, which he affirms comes from catholic Reformed tradition (18). This is made even more apparent when he concludes that “revealed theology serves to complete politics, but it is not the foundation of politics.” (19). In Wolfe’s apologetic, natural law takes a preeminent role in forming a Christianized nation.

While there are many different versions of Christian nationalism, Wolfe offers a stirring introduction and argues for a nationalism framed around scholastic theology rooted in Reformational history. The heavily footnoted introduction sets the stage for his case. We will consider in chapter one whether his anthropology provides the foundation for such a noble pursuit.

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Doug Wilson and Clerical Vestments

Doug Wilson’s episode discussing clergy attire is quite good, and we, high-church Presbyterians, should take a listen and consider a few of his thoughts. Here are some general responses to the interview: To Vest or Sweater Vest? https://www.gottesdienst.org/podcast/2022/11/9/tgc-234-to-vest-or-sweater-vest

The discussion with a Missouri-Synod Lutheran minister was also an interesting look into the wild diversity of worship practices among Lutherans and a special interest in the Gottesdienst Crowd who wish to return to the high-liturgical Lutheran model of the 16th century.

It is fascinating just how far the influence of @_Theopolis goes. I’ve heard of Lutheran, Anglican, Orthodox, & other high church traditions that have been deeply affected by the work of Peter Leithart and, as a result, become aware of our labors in the CREC and man like Wilson.

Wilson’s concern with clerical vestments stems from a fundamental question: “What is the direction of this act?” He directs his concerns toward low-church evangelicals who want to play dress-up. Such “liturgical” trends come with a side of postmodernism.

He argues that context is crucial in such discussions. He does not oppose traditional Lutherans wearing albs and stoles, but he finds it distressing that low-church evangelicals are dressing up in “ecclesiastical bling” as a way of calling attention and often end with effeminacy.

He is not opposed to ecclesiastical vestments, but he ponders the question, “what is the motive?” “what is it saying” and “what is the vestment highlighting?” It should highlight the office and not the man. We should avoid “showboating.”

“Clothing is rhetoric,” and it is crucial to understand the connotation of this rhetoric wherever you are ministering. Doug’s concern is that people may trip over robes if they attend one of our churches, especially in the South, where the Southern Baptist world is dominant.

Wilson’s concern is that the pastor conveys a masculine voice. He says that a white robe is a robe of a bride, not a groom. I’d note that the Transfigured glory of Jesus (Mat. 17) clothed him in white, and the pastors sitting around the throne were also robed in white (Rev. 4).

I also disagree with the perception of folks here in SBC land. In all my 14 years in Pensacola, wearing a white robe, only 2-3 times have someone inquired about the robe. They have asked more about using the word “catholic” in the Nicene Creed than anything else.

These are questions that can easily be overcome with a few conversations. And, indeed, any concerns that they may have is usually dealt with right after the service in brief exchanges.

This leads to my general observation that the culture of any congregation leaves a more powerful impression at first than the liturgical interests. Establish the culture, and the white robes are an easy sell.

Wilson’s general argument is quite moderate and straightforward. He even refers to it as “adiaphora.” He intends to do away with the tendency towards an egalitarian spirit, and the vestments can lead and have led to such abuses. This is a fair critique.

On the other hand, the suit/tie combo has provided its fair share of egalitarianism. Clothing matters and I could probably find the “business model” of attire equally troubling in mainstream evangelicalism. Postmodernism impacts the robe and the suit.

Wilson’s regulative principle argument is quite good, and he even notes that robes may be more suitable for certain environments and that there ought to be a deliberation in what direction you should go. The entire argument is very pastoral. There needs to be a goal in mind.

But Lutheran history is also a fine example. In the 70s, the high-church Lutherans were the liberals, but today the Gottesdienst Crowd (high-church Lutherans) are the ones seeking to restore 16th-century Lutheran conservative ideals.

Wilson’s general concern is that the liturgy/vestment does not stand on its own but that it is accompanied by instruction. There is an agreement between our two sides of the liturgical aisle & if there was any concern about where the liturgical side stands in the CREC, COVID demonstrated that our robes are symbols of the transfigured Christ who asserted his authority over earthly powers.

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All Saints: God’s Benediction Upon Martyrs

We celebrate —together with a vast majority of Christian Churches in the world–the feast of All Saints. On this day, we honor and remember the saints gone before us. Traditionally, All Saints Day is the day after All Hallowed Eve on October 31st, and the Church celebrates it on the closest Sunday to the first of November.

All Saints Day is also known as the day when we celebrate the hallowed ones, those who have been honored by God because of their faithful lives. The Bible does this frequently when it says that we must give honor to whom honor is due (Prov. 3:27) and when it lists the great heroes of the faith and praises them for their mighty actions in the face of grave danger (Heb. 11). All Saints’ Day is the benediction of God upon martyrs, the “well done” upon the faithful, and the clothing in white robes on all those who, from their labors rest.

By celebrating the life of the saints, ultimately, we are celebrating the death of death. We celebrate that in the death of the faithful ones, Satan has been mocked. In fact, All Saints testify to the humiliation of the devil and evil throughout history. The Christian Church rejoices over evil by mocking death. The third-century theologian Athanasius gives a good example of the early church’s attitude toward death:

“Death has become like a tyrant who has been completely conquered by the legitimate monarch; bound hand and foot the passers-by jeer at him, hitting him and abusing him, no longer afraid of his cruelty and rage, because of the king who has conquered him. So has death been conquered and branded for what it is by the Saviour on the cross. It is bound hand and foot, all who are in Christ trample it as they pass and as witnesses to Him deride it, scoffing and saying, “O Death, where is thy victory? O Grave, where is thy sting?” (1 Cor. 15: 55).”

Only the Gospel gave people hope that death could be defeated and reversed. Only the Gospel promised people glory at death and even more glorious resurrection life at the end of history. The reality is paganism cannot compete with All Saints’ Day because paganism cannot offer hope after death. The Christian message can offer a definitive answer to death. Jesus is the answer to death’s grip because Jesus overcame the grip of death.
#allsaints 

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Charge to Athanasius Presbytery

The life of the ministry is a life of theological self-giving. The minister gives away wisdom, learning, and life in everything he does. The very clerical collar he wears is a sign of that sacrificial life.

Paul’s words to Timothy fit this profile:

…give yourself entirely to them, that your progress may be evident to all. 16 Take heed to yourself and to the doctrine. Continue in them, for in doing this you will save both yourself and those who hear you.

A minister must rightly divide the word of truth. He must be a compelling interpreter, a respecter of the Word’s purity, internal logic, and redemptive flow. This is the standard for ministers as they come to be examined, and it is the expectation of those must give an account to our Great Shepherd.

Among the pastoral candidates who came for ordination in Geneva under the tutelage of the Company of Pastors, the vast majority were properly equipped theologically; they were not ashamed of the Word and their calling. However, some of them lacked theological gravitas prompting pastor Antoine de La Faye to say that a few were not even “qualified to watch goats.” Those were often sent home to study for a season or encouraged to find other professions. It reminds me of the advice my old professor Steve Brown gave to a young man after hearing him preach: “Young man, can you do anything else?” This is far from a harsh assessment; indeed, not many should be teachers.

Calvin viewed ministerial preparation as essential to developing a healthy city; thus, putting into place learning academies and offering opportunities for theological growth became an essential component of the city’s learning revolution. Calvin’s zeal for proper training of pastoral candidates came from what he viewed as a lack of equipped pastors in the day. Further, there were some clear signs that “vagabond ministers” traveling around Europe were causing dissension and assuming leadership positions “without oversight.”

The impetus for pastoral training was an outworking of the general premise Calvin had for regular Christian living. One could say that for Calvin, the process of doing theology was to adore God, and one could only adore God rightly by learning theology.

The training process equipped candidates to endure the lengthy but careful ordination process, which included examining piety and theology. “The Venerable Company” had a disposition towards candidates whose training included the liberal arts, biblical exegesis, theology, and practical experience. The preparatory season occurred in community settings where candidates were encouraged to attend Hebrew and Greek lectures and sharpen their rhetorical and dialectic skills.

Certain days were set aside for pastoral candidates to deliver sermons in the presence of members of the Venerable Company and test their abilities to debate issues confronting the civil and ecclesiastical scene of the day. With the learning process completed, Calvin and Beza, and other members of the Company of Pastors led the ordination process. Biblical knowledge took a central focus in the examining process under the assumption that if a candidate did not know his Bible well, his ministry would not prosper under God’s guidance.

The ordination examination had three sections. First, there was an examination for the candidates, which lasted for about two hours on various theological issues about the biblical text. Second, following the principles laid in I Timothy 3 and Titus 1, the pastoral candidate underwent examination concerning his moral standing in his familial and public life. Finally, there were trial sermons where the candidate provided an astute presentation of a text to reveal his ability to properly divide the word of truth and his skills to handle the text. The process was long and tedious, but Calvin believed that if a new reformation was to inundate the land, ministers should be men of learning committed to the authority of the Bible and pious servants of the great Shepherd, Jesus Christ.

It is our privilege today to continue with the next three candidates for pastoral ministry. The examining committees have affirmed that these men have shown enough knowledge in all these fields to come before the presbytery. And they have assured me that they are equipped to enter into Gospel ministry. We hope that these examinations will serve more as additional confirmation of their call, and we are eager to rejoice that God has called these brothers to share in the life of theological self-giving for the sake of the flock.

Let us pray: O God of eternal praise, you have equipped and called these your servants to the frontlines of Gospel activity in your holy church. Remind them of the gracious call to serve your flock, and give them the wisdom to remember, rejoice, and reflect on your kindness through Jesus Christ, the Great Shepherd, Amen.

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The Heaven of Hospitality: Our Noble Excuses, Part 2

Hospitality was a distinctive mark of the early church. Consider these words written in 96 AD by Clement of Rome, writing from the church in Rome to the church in Corinth:

“Indeed, was there ever a visitor in your midst that did not approve of your excellent and steadfast faith…or did not proclaim the magnificent character of your hospitality?”

What does it look for a Church to be known for its hospitality in the community? We often forget that one of the greatest displays of true religion which catapulted the Christian faith in the ancient world was the gift of hospitality. The Church constantly intermingled in this world of eating and drinking together (Acts 2:42). The result of such experiences was that the Lord’s Day became a day of exceeding joy, even amidst persecution.

The Christian’s most important day is doubled in communion and blessings when members have already tasted moments of worship around a table, singing with friends, and laughing with our children through the week. Indeed, hospitality throughout the week becomes the preparatory means to feast and prepare our hearts for Sunday. In fact, the more it is practiced, the richer will the Sabbath event be amidst the congregation.

Because this is so crucial in the life of the Church, and precisely because the Church’s imperative is so clear biblically and historically, I do not accept any psychological description that sounds like an apologetic for not doing it. Such may vary from, “But I don’t make enough money for hospitality,” or “I don’t know how to cook for large groups,” or “I am not comfortable entertaining people,” or “my house is too small,” or “I live alone,” or “life is too hectic right now,” and a host of self-defeating propositions (see Randy Booth’s article in the comment section).

We shall address some of these in the future, but suffice to say, the kind of hospitality I advocate is the incremental type that begins by inviting a family or a couple or an individual over at least once a month. In fact, the kindest hosts I know are people who don’t make much money and live in small homes but determined long ago that this is a gift of immeasurable worth that cannot be set aside because of fears or uncertainties.

Ultimately, we have to ask ourselves whether we have allowed our apathy to dictate our imperative instead of shutting our apathy with God’s imperatives. The impact hospitality has on a family will endure to a thousand generations. If we linger, we are missing out on the benediction bestowed on others through hospitality, but more importantly, the benediction God would love to bestow on us.

#hospitality

#earlychurch

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The Heaven of Hospitality, Part 1

Many years ago, shortly after we were married, we decided to invest in this hospitality business. We had heard the tapes, knew our biblical imperatives and came across some really dangerous authors who told us that hospitality was not an option. I regret ever having served my neighbor with food and laughter…said no one ever!

I remember inviting over a fairly wealthy family. The father was a gentle soul who was very successful in his labors. They accepted our invitation, and when we returned home from church to get everything ready, it dawned on us that our table could only fit four people, but they were a family of 6. Our apartment was slightly over 700 square feet, and we only had four chairs.

After some deliberation, we decided to sit on the floor and eat, to which they happily agreed. I remember being slightly embarrassed, but our concerns faded when we started eating and laughing. It was one of the most memorable Sundays in my life!

Here is the truth, as black as Amazonian coffee: those who do not practice hospitality fail to taste the goodness of God. It’s plain and simple. When Paul said, “do hospitality” (διώκοντες (Rom. 12:13; root word engages the concept of “persecution;” think of happily persecuting hospitality), he said that we are to be zealous for this gift.

For Paul and many other biblical authors, hospitality was a visible demonstration of our baptism into Christ. Christ hosts us in his body, and we host others in our abode. We improve our baptisms by baptizing others into our baptized life around a table.

We shall deal with practicalities throughout, but we must begin this conversation with an important principle found in Solomon. Proverbs 15:17 says: “Better is a dinner of herbs where love is than a fattened ox and hatred with it.” The Bible uses the image of a “fattened ox” to represent the finest foods available. The contrast is significant in this text because love is preferred over the best foods. Abundance and hatred do not go hand in hand. Abundance and hatred produce an un-godly environment–an environment where people do not want to be. Wealth and hatred only lead to disaster, but wealth of love is the secret ingredient to hospitality.

In one of my favorite Johnny Cash songs, he writes:

It’s not the barley or the wheat

It’s not the oven or the heat

That makes this bread so good to eat

It’s the needing and the sharing that makes the meal complete.

What makes a meal complete is the sense of sharing and passing and needing oneness in the context of a table, even if that table comes from the meager earnings of a college student or a widow. At that moment, when we are joined, something mystical occurs: we are imitating a table of kings and queens. Whether with herbs or the finest meal, the very presence of image-bearers partaking of food and drink forms a sacred bond that affirms our love for God and one another.

And for this entire thing to run as good as a hot cup of ramen noodles in a cold college dorm, we need the recipe of love. We don’t need abundance; we need only a few grateful saints around a table sharing stories and affirming the image-bearing status of one another; for where two or three are gathered around a table, God is in their midst.

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The Heaven of Hospitality, An Introduction

We are fond of sharing our humble home with fellow humans. It’s a common practice in our household. But we didn’t just wake up one morning and, for the first time, decide to invite all those fine people for a meal. Over the years, my wife and I have surrounded ourselves with people seasoned in the art of hospitality. They invited us over when we were young in our married life, then when we only had one child, and they continued to do it as our family increased in numbers. They have refreshed my family and me.

Let’s face it: hosting a family of seven is not for wimps! But yet, they have gone out of their way to make us feel comfortable and satisfied. And it takes a whole lot of food to satisfy a family of five hearty men.

It is hard to express the level of gratitude I have for the hundreds of meals prepared out of love and devotion. In turn, we have worked hard at imitating those who practice hospitality so generously. So many times, we didn’t have the mood or energy, but in the end, we all looked with amazement at how God transformed us through the ritual of hosting.

Yet, I am grieved by how the apostles’ imperatives (Heb. 13:2; I Pet. 4:9) are so often overlooked in the evangelical community. I often hear visitors to our congregation and outside our community state with some level of sadness that they have never or rarely been invited by a Christian to someone’s home for a simple meal. Yes, they have probably experienced what we call in the South “Potluck meals,” but that is different from the experience of particularized hospitality the Bible has in mind (general hospitality falls into a different category).

The Church and the individual family miss a genuine opportunity to serve one another, to hear each others’ stories, and give out of the abundance given to us in Christ Jesus. Indeed, hospitality is the overflow of God’s love for us. We host because God has hosted us in his house (Ps. 23). I love the way Lauren Winner describes this in her book, “Mudhouse Sabbath:”

“We are not meant simply to invite people into our homes, but also to invite them into our lives. Having guests and visitors, if we do it right, is not an imposition, because we are not meant to rearrange our lives for our guests – we are meant to invite our guests to enter into our lives as they are.”

What I wish to do in this short series is to encourage you to see how practical and pleasing it is to do hospitality. It doesn’t demand the most expensive wine bottle, nor does it demand the most extroverted host; it only demands a willing heart to see the Gospel made known amid unfolded laundry and wildly active children.

Who can host? The family of seven, the newlywed couple, the single young man, and anyone who can spare some change for a noble cause. For many of you who have never practiced this Christian gift, you can begin small and inexpensively, but what you can’t do is leave it up for the right opportunity. The right opportunity comes when you make it. Begin small, and you will see the joy and celebration that overtakes a house known for its hospitality. 

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Remembering Gregg Strawbridge: A Pastor’s Pastor

Pastoral theology is that branch that examines the challenges and sundry issues that relate to the pastor’s role among his people. It extends to pastoral care, homiletics, and a host of topics. It is an all-exhaustive theological field that expresses the minister’s presence, authority, and love for his people.

The most practical level impacts directly the personal life of the pastor: his learning, leisure, and friendship. These are the areas that stir my pastoral ministry and that play so very deeply into shaping the pastor I am today. Nevertheless, these pursuits become meaningless without another; someone who shares the same professional, academic, and ecclesiastical heart; someone with whom you can be open and to whom you can say, “Yes, me too; I feel that way, and I know that angst.”

For me, Rev. Dr. Gregg Strawbridge was the embodiment of everything good about pastoral theology. Gregg carried with him the insatiable thirst to see pastoral ministry alive in the academy, around the grill, and the mentoring. Gregg was and will be the gift of God to edify men contemplating or already invested in the life of the church.

At the young age of 57, my dear brother left us! He left us with honor and grace, but he left us. And my heart aches immensely at his absence. He was to me, a model; but more, he was the enlivening partner that I needed 13 years ago when we first met and the enriching friend I spoke with a day before his death.

For the last few years, we have talked on the phone at least monthly about everything. You see, Gregg was the pastor a pastor needed. He was the friend of those who were at the end of their pastoral ministry with no hope, to those struggling with little hope, and to those who were full of hope. He was the person God used to stir optimism and sobriety about the life of the church.

For the last three days before his death, we spoke on the phone three times, exchanged emails about book projects, and offered each other laughter; but to be honest, it was Gregg offering me life in it all. I never felt quite competent enough to meet his theological excellence. But Gregg never once made me feel as if I had a lot of catching up to do, or that I was never going to achieve something, rather, he treated me as an equal, even though his repertoire was replete with accomplishments, recognized projects, and a theological mind that was ahead of many of his contemporaries.

To us, he was just an ordinary pastor. Like many of us who do this for a living, he just wanted to talk, share his pastoral struggles, and I, like an eager child, speedily shared with him mine. I needed him to listen, but I needed him to simply speak; speak into my life and speak into my pastorate.

When I say Gregg was an ordinary pastor, it is an extraordinary-ordinary. He was unbelievably gifted, and that is not to embellish his accomplishments, it’s to state the reality of the kindness of God to pour the benediction of Gregg Strawbridge on us, on my denomination, and in my own life.

Dr. Strawbridge was a talented musician; the kind that touched a guitar and made magic, the kind that could compose and harmonize and provide something beautiful. Perhaps our mutual affection for music brought us closer, though his musical abilities were incomparable. It is safe to say that Gregg lived musically, throwing a note here and there, and wherever those notes went it offered joy to the recipients. I grabbed as many of his notes as I could since we first met.

One would think that with all his gifts, he would be intimidating and unapproachable. His academic prowess was all over his resume and his writing abilities were vast dealing with issues in classical education, covenant baptism and communion, eschatology, apologetics, music, typology, and an astounding love for the good, true, and beautiful. And don’t forget sailing.

Gregg was the kind of biblicist that inspired you to love Jesus more fully in the text of Scriptures. He always took you deeper into the life of Christ because he loved his Lord. We would take a Sunday text he was preaching on, open our Bibles, and spend the 30-60 minutes talking through it, looking for insights to preach more clearly. He was my visionary inspiration. Every time we met at a conference or when I got off the phone, I wanted to produce something for the kingdom, improve in some area, and be a better pastor.

But even though he was the guy recognized at conferences, the men whose debates brought many to change their positions, and though he was sought after for his wisdom, Gregg was approachable in every way. There was not one intimidating bone in his body. One would feel completely at ease with him. His charm, kindness, and experience would flow into every conversation because he believed that pastoral theology was the kind of thing that was practiced charitably, even though at times that included some heated dialogue. But refining was his love language and the common good was Gregg’s goal as a leader in his denomination and as a powerful proponent of orthodoxy everywhere else. Gregg was indefatigable for the kingdom. He was evangelistic for the kingdom and pushed the claims of Jesus in life and now he proclaims his excellencies in death.

The last words I said to him on the phone a day before his death was how much his productivity and pastoral life inspired me. He humbly replied, “Thanks, man!” I didn’t know that would be our last conversation. I keep waiting for another reply to my last email, another phone call to talk about our writing plans, or to talk about some ideas he had for wordmp3, or to talk about church life. And to be honest, though he was one of my dearest friends, he was ultimately my pastor; the embodiment of what makes shepherding desirable. And I will miss him greatly: his voice, humor, intellect, and our long conversations.

Rest in peace, friend! The world made sense to me and so many because you poured into us so purposefully!

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How to read the Gospels?

To study the Gospels is to study the first-century context in its depth. To read the first four books that shape the main corpus of the story of Jesus is to inundate ourselves in a world that is foreign to our eyes, our ears, and our taste. We are called to experience the dusty days of Jerusalem and the rain of God’s mercies among stubborn people. When we read the Gospels in their fullness, we find our own lives ingrained in the doubts of the disciples, the victories of the kingdom, and the corporate undoing of Jesus’ antagonists.

This entire endeavor begins early as we consider the genealogy of Jesus. There, in that vast array of heroic characters, we are considering a long line from Abraham to Mary that connects the Scriptures in all its covenant unity. It traces the lineage of our forefathers with the precision of a scalpel surgically tuned to its purpose. Far from tedious, it reveals in vivid language the precipitous fall of every attempt to break the sacred line. The Scriptures stir the imagination to see the unfolding drama of the sacred violence of old and the new sacred peace far as the curse is found; the journey through the wilderness to the arrival at the promised mount of Calvary.

To read the Gospels is to witness the fulfillment of history, the impending doom of an old world that was ready to die to make room for a new world. This new world brings with it the entire glory of Old Covenant history to the forefront as the writers retrace the steps of Israel leading to her final days in the destruction of the Temple. Yet, in Israel’s final days, God’s saints are not left to wander again in the wilderness, but a new Israel steps in to relive Israel’s history and journey through the wilderness to triumph over every failure of Israel’s past. In Jesus, the old Israel gives way to a new Israel with a new Moses and a new kingdom.

The Gospels set the stage for the subversion of the present authority structures by a new-born King whose very presence rifled Satan’s fold and the Herodian throne. In his birth, he overthrows the principalities of the day and fulfills the promise to be a light to the Gentiles. Jesus’ Epiphany glory in his infancy provides the environment for everything else that unfolds in the New Covenant Scriptures. For in his birth, the Gentiles appear, the religious leaders sneer, the earthly powers jeer, and the angels cheer. Indeed, the life of Jesus’ birth signals the future ministry of Jesus bringing blessings to the Gentiles, conflicting with the religious leaders, provoking political figures to take a stand and to receive the ministry of angelic beings and the glorious saints.

The Gospels introduce us to a world that is perishing under the weight and burden of sin only to engulf us into a new world where righteousness and hope prevail. The kingship of Jesus becomes the Gospels’ exceedingly great project: to reveal Christ as Lord and to see his kingship confound worldly wisdom and bring salvation to the cosmos. 

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The Danger of Theology

Dear friend,

You inquired about the nature of theological study. You asked whether your interest in theology meant that you should pursue work in the church or academy or whether you should strive to be an intelligent layman in the kirk.

I started my journey over 20 years ago and have loved every single aspect of it. Theological and pastoral pursuits are my bread and butter and chicken wings. But I wish to begin, first and foremost, by offering some cautions. I don’t want to write to you about the virtues of studying theology or even your future, except to say the “study of God”–“theos logia”–is electrifying, mysterious, and dangerous. Here I wish only to alert you first to the “danger” of studying theology.

One of the great dangers is to assume that theology can be neat and tidy. If we simply have all our categories in order we can right the world’s wrongs. If we grasp fully the intricacies of the ontological Trinity, we will be able to grasp theology in summa. Even though theology comes down from heaven, we shouldn’t assume we have developed an appetite for heavenly things. In fact, I have witnessed too many theological students whose appetite for heavenly things is so small that I hope to never see their faces in the pulpit or leading a study. Be cautious to attend to those matters of piety first. A proud man in the Church is a dangerous man for the church.

Sometimes we treat theology like an engineer treats numbers. Studying theology becomes like reading an encyclopedia of facts. But we must be aware that in every endeavor of reading and studying and writing, we bring presuppositions, experiences, frustrations, and much more to the task. Therefore, we shouldn’t expect that straightforward propositions apply to all situations nor that they should be mechanically applied. Theology, especially pastoral theology, is deeply intimate.

Sometimes, “trust in God” works for the weary, but at other times it can be understood as simplistic and unsympathetic. “All things work together for good” can make a great bumper sticker but de-contextualized, it can seem cheap and even offensive. Be cautious that your theological studies don’t minimize pain or trivialize real concerns. Know your Bible, but know your people as well.

Theology can be difficult to apply. It requires wisdom. In fact, it requires humility to speak into someone’s life. The more we think through it, the more we live together, make mistakes together, the more we learn to speak the truth in love and connect theology to human experience. That is my first real caution as you continue your studies and consider your future. Many cheers and clarity in your pursuits.

Sincerely,

Pastor Brito