Posts
Friday, July 20, 2018
Book Write-Up: Be Careful What You Joust For
Ryan Hauge and Ivy Smoak. Be Careful What You Joust For (Pentavia Book 1). 2018. See here to buy the book.
Ryan Hauge and Ivy Smoak are husband and wife and wrote this book together. It is a work of fantasy.
Here is a description of some of the characters:
Isolda: Isolda is the wife of Duke Garrion. She has royal blood herself, in that her father was the king of the realm, and her brother Ivan is the current king. Isolda has been living a secret life as the crime lord Lady Marsilia. In that capacity, she sees the corpse of the god Arwin, which is a sacred relic. Because that body is in Garrion’s domain, she suspects that Garrion killed her father and stole the relic. Isolda is also a bit of a religious skeptic.
Garrion: This book alternates among some of the main characters, conveying their perspectives in the third-person. We see early on that Garrion is a devout, sensitive soul. He has his prejudices, especially against the people known as the Rashidi, but he desires to follow the way of Arwin and to pursue peace. Did he kill Isolda’s father? Well, believe it or not, he wanted to. The book spills this early on and explains why he felt this way, so it was not a big mystery that was left until the very end. There still is the mystery, however, about who actually did kill Isolda’s father. This does get resolved at the end.
Marcus: Marcus is the firstborn son of Isolda and Garrion. As such, he is obligated to participate in a jousting contest. The winner receives the position of Arwin’s Lance, which apparently has a lot of power, considering that the person holding it can declare war. Word on the street is that Marcus is the second coming of Arwin, and that his victory in the joust will usher in an era of peace among the nations. Isolda is skeptical about this interpretation of the prophecy, and about prophecy, period.
Rixin: Rixin is the son of King Ivan. He will be Marcus’ opponent in the jousting contest. Rixin is cocky and quite sure of himself, but he can be a nice person.
Oriana: Oriana is the firstborn daughter of Isolda and Garrion. Oriana is obsessed with marrying Prince Rixin, but she remembers that Rixin did not care for her when they were children, and there is word that Rixin might marry the Rashidi princess Navya. Then Oriana meets Bastian, and that complicates the picture.
Bastian: Bastian is a thief on the streets, who uses his pet squirrel, Nut, to distract people while he steals. His father was a lord and lost everything. Bastian rescues Oriana, and they develop feelings for each other.
Terric: Terric is the second-born son of Isolda and Garrion. As the second-born son, he is to be a priest of Arwin. But he does not want to be a priest, confined to a monastery, even though he enjoys hearing some of the tales in the Book of Arwin. He wants to see the world and become a squire. Terric is rather precocious. Terric and Bastian try to help each other in their goals, with laughable results.
Reavus: Reavus is the brother of Isolda and King Ivan. He has no children, but he has exercised a great deal of influence on Prince Rixin. Reavus was a butcher at the Wizard’s War, and Garrion suspects that Reavus is just itching to get the country into a war with Rashid and intends to use a victory by Rixin in the jousting contest to bring that about. Garrion thinks that Reavus hopes to do this so that Reavus can be glorious in battle, but Reavus also has a personal ax to grind against the Rashidi.
Sir Aldric: Sir Aldric is Garrion’s long-time friend and right-hand man. He does what Garrion says and investigates when he is asked to do so. He is a no-nonsense sort of person.
The book was enjoyable to read. It reminded me somewhat of a 1950’s-1960’s medieval drama, in full color.
The mythological-religious aspect was interesting, but, hopefully, the next book in the series will explain it more. Arwin was obviously a Jesus-like character, who took a retreat into the desert, taught peace, and sacrificed himself for his people. There is no empty tomb in his case, however, since his corpse is a relic. And it is not explained how he is the one true God. The book also could have gone deeper into Garrion’s dislike for the Isolda’s father. Garrion did not care for the king’s reckless war policies, which took the life of Garrion’s father, but he also wanted to establish a pure cult of Arwin, in contrast to the established cult. His religious motive was not explained.
There is also the question of what Isolda did as Lady Marsilia that made her a crime lord, pursued by the authorities. And why was she a crime lord? As far as I recall, this was not really explained. It seemed as if she primarily went undercover to learn how and why her father was killed.
There are details that are not resolved in this book, and the book ends on a major cliffhanger. That’s why there’s a sequel!
The Afterword of the book is interesting because Ryan Hauge talks about the role his wife played in developing the characters, as well as the research that he did to make this book better.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the authors. My review is honest!
Ryan Hauge and Ivy Smoak are husband and wife and wrote this book together. It is a work of fantasy.
Here is a description of some of the characters:
Isolda: Isolda is the wife of Duke Garrion. She has royal blood herself, in that her father was the king of the realm, and her brother Ivan is the current king. Isolda has been living a secret life as the crime lord Lady Marsilia. In that capacity, she sees the corpse of the god Arwin, which is a sacred relic. Because that body is in Garrion’s domain, she suspects that Garrion killed her father and stole the relic. Isolda is also a bit of a religious skeptic.
Garrion: This book alternates among some of the main characters, conveying their perspectives in the third-person. We see early on that Garrion is a devout, sensitive soul. He has his prejudices, especially against the people known as the Rashidi, but he desires to follow the way of Arwin and to pursue peace. Did he kill Isolda’s father? Well, believe it or not, he wanted to. The book spills this early on and explains why he felt this way, so it was not a big mystery that was left until the very end. There still is the mystery, however, about who actually did kill Isolda’s father. This does get resolved at the end.
Marcus: Marcus is the firstborn son of Isolda and Garrion. As such, he is obligated to participate in a jousting contest. The winner receives the position of Arwin’s Lance, which apparently has a lot of power, considering that the person holding it can declare war. Word on the street is that Marcus is the second coming of Arwin, and that his victory in the joust will usher in an era of peace among the nations. Isolda is skeptical about this interpretation of the prophecy, and about prophecy, period.
Rixin: Rixin is the son of King Ivan. He will be Marcus’ opponent in the jousting contest. Rixin is cocky and quite sure of himself, but he can be a nice person.
Oriana: Oriana is the firstborn daughter of Isolda and Garrion. Oriana is obsessed with marrying Prince Rixin, but she remembers that Rixin did not care for her when they were children, and there is word that Rixin might marry the Rashidi princess Navya. Then Oriana meets Bastian, and that complicates the picture.
Bastian: Bastian is a thief on the streets, who uses his pet squirrel, Nut, to distract people while he steals. His father was a lord and lost everything. Bastian rescues Oriana, and they develop feelings for each other.
Terric: Terric is the second-born son of Isolda and Garrion. As the second-born son, he is to be a priest of Arwin. But he does not want to be a priest, confined to a monastery, even though he enjoys hearing some of the tales in the Book of Arwin. He wants to see the world and become a squire. Terric is rather precocious. Terric and Bastian try to help each other in their goals, with laughable results.
Reavus: Reavus is the brother of Isolda and King Ivan. He has no children, but he has exercised a great deal of influence on Prince Rixin. Reavus was a butcher at the Wizard’s War, and Garrion suspects that Reavus is just itching to get the country into a war with Rashid and intends to use a victory by Rixin in the jousting contest to bring that about. Garrion thinks that Reavus hopes to do this so that Reavus can be glorious in battle, but Reavus also has a personal ax to grind against the Rashidi.
Sir Aldric: Sir Aldric is Garrion’s long-time friend and right-hand man. He does what Garrion says and investigates when he is asked to do so. He is a no-nonsense sort of person.
The book was enjoyable to read. It reminded me somewhat of a 1950’s-1960’s medieval drama, in full color.
The mythological-religious aspect was interesting, but, hopefully, the next book in the series will explain it more. Arwin was obviously a Jesus-like character, who took a retreat into the desert, taught peace, and sacrificed himself for his people. There is no empty tomb in his case, however, since his corpse is a relic. And it is not explained how he is the one true God. The book also could have gone deeper into Garrion’s dislike for the Isolda’s father. Garrion did not care for the king’s reckless war policies, which took the life of Garrion’s father, but he also wanted to establish a pure cult of Arwin, in contrast to the established cult. His religious motive was not explained.
There is also the question of what Isolda did as Lady Marsilia that made her a crime lord, pursued by the authorities. And why was she a crime lord? As far as I recall, this was not really explained. It seemed as if she primarily went undercover to learn how and why her father was killed.
There are details that are not resolved in this book, and the book ends on a major cliffhanger. That’s why there’s a sequel!
The Afterword of the book is interesting because Ryan Hauge talks about the role his wife played in developing the characters, as well as the research that he did to make this book better.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the authors. My review is honest!
Thursday, July 19, 2018
Book Write-Up: Captives, by R.A. Denny
R.A. Denny. Captives. (Mud, Rocks, and Trees, Book 3). 2017. See here to buy the book.
Captives is the third volume of R.A. Denny’s fantasy series, “Mud, Rocks, and Trees.” Emperor Zoltov is the despotic ruler of Tzoladia. There is a prophecy that three characters believe is relevant to them: that they will meet each other in Tzoladia, each with a significant seal, and this will precipitate a revolution against Zoltov.
Let’s catch up with our characters, without giving away too many spoilers!
Amanki: Amanki is now in Tzoladia. Although Amanki was raised in humble circumstances, he is actually of royal lineage. He has one of the seals. He meets with the Society of the World, a group of elders who are worshipers of the controversial high god, Adon, the god of people who are monotheistic. Some of the elders deliberate about whether they are interpreting the prophecy correctly, and Amanki struggles with his role and destiny.
Brina: At the beginning of this book, Brina and her young friend, Oaken, are about to be sold as slaves. A familiar face, Metlan, persuades his uncle, the high-ranking Tzoladian general Zaheil, to purchase them.
Metlan: Metlan was in the preceding book. He is a Samalitan, or a cat-rider, a warrior who rides a lion in service to Zoltov. In the previous book, he was a captive of Brina’s group, and he had a wry, flirtatious personality. He helps Brina for a while only to abandon Brina and Oaken at the last minute in a fit of self-preservation. We learn more about Metlan in this third volume, as Metlan is reunited with Brina and Oaken. Metlan is the son (or so he believes) of King Maltan of the Samalitans. His mother was Tzoladian, and she married Maltan in order to cement an alliance between Tzoladians and the Samalitans. Metlan lost his mother when he was very young, but he remembers the stories that she told him. Metlan looks somewhat like Amanki, so there is a question of whether he, too, is of Tzoladian royal lineage.
Tuka: In the preceding book, Tuka gets into a conflict with Telepinus, a drug-dealer. People who are supposed to guard hibernating women and children are instead cutting off the hibernating people’s hands, as part of Telepinus’ drug trade. At the beginning of this book, Tuka’s brother Moshoi is missing and presumed to be dead, and Tuka is healing in a sacred pool after a conflict. He is conscripted into the army of the Tzoladians, where he is given a mission to find a mole who seeks to undermine Zoltov. Tuka must unite with Amanki and Brina.
This book was helpful in that it concisely summarized events of the previous books, in places. It was also intriguing in that it got into politics and geo-politics. In terms of politics, there is intrigue against Zoltov, as Zoltov is seen to be unstable and tries to hold on to his legitimacy with anything he can. Zoltov has a dream and decides to invade Karso, a land that has the ousted Tzoladian ruling class that lost in the power-struggle with Zoltov. It refuses to pay tribute to Tzoladia, but some question whether war is necessary, as Tzoladia and Karso have a good trading relationship. Another interesting aspect of the book was its description of the characters’ mythological-religious beliefs that influenced and undergirded the constitutions of their societies and cultures.
I read a few pages each day but did not entirely know how the book fit together until I looked over it again just now. That was when the book came alive to me. There is not much, at least in this book, in terms of action, but there are competing political and geo-political interests, a sense of mystery, and characters who wrestle with their own complex feelings.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. My review is honest!
Captives is the third volume of R.A. Denny’s fantasy series, “Mud, Rocks, and Trees.” Emperor Zoltov is the despotic ruler of Tzoladia. There is a prophecy that three characters believe is relevant to them: that they will meet each other in Tzoladia, each with a significant seal, and this will precipitate a revolution against Zoltov.
Let’s catch up with our characters, without giving away too many spoilers!
Amanki: Amanki is now in Tzoladia. Although Amanki was raised in humble circumstances, he is actually of royal lineage. He has one of the seals. He meets with the Society of the World, a group of elders who are worshipers of the controversial high god, Adon, the god of people who are monotheistic. Some of the elders deliberate about whether they are interpreting the prophecy correctly, and Amanki struggles with his role and destiny.
Brina: At the beginning of this book, Brina and her young friend, Oaken, are about to be sold as slaves. A familiar face, Metlan, persuades his uncle, the high-ranking Tzoladian general Zaheil, to purchase them.
Metlan: Metlan was in the preceding book. He is a Samalitan, or a cat-rider, a warrior who rides a lion in service to Zoltov. In the previous book, he was a captive of Brina’s group, and he had a wry, flirtatious personality. He helps Brina for a while only to abandon Brina and Oaken at the last minute in a fit of self-preservation. We learn more about Metlan in this third volume, as Metlan is reunited with Brina and Oaken. Metlan is the son (or so he believes) of King Maltan of the Samalitans. His mother was Tzoladian, and she married Maltan in order to cement an alliance between Tzoladians and the Samalitans. Metlan lost his mother when he was very young, but he remembers the stories that she told him. Metlan looks somewhat like Amanki, so there is a question of whether he, too, is of Tzoladian royal lineage.
Tuka: In the preceding book, Tuka gets into a conflict with Telepinus, a drug-dealer. People who are supposed to guard hibernating women and children are instead cutting off the hibernating people’s hands, as part of Telepinus’ drug trade. At the beginning of this book, Tuka’s brother Moshoi is missing and presumed to be dead, and Tuka is healing in a sacred pool after a conflict. He is conscripted into the army of the Tzoladians, where he is given a mission to find a mole who seeks to undermine Zoltov. Tuka must unite with Amanki and Brina.
This book was helpful in that it concisely summarized events of the previous books, in places. It was also intriguing in that it got into politics and geo-politics. In terms of politics, there is intrigue against Zoltov, as Zoltov is seen to be unstable and tries to hold on to his legitimacy with anything he can. Zoltov has a dream and decides to invade Karso, a land that has the ousted Tzoladian ruling class that lost in the power-struggle with Zoltov. It refuses to pay tribute to Tzoladia, but some question whether war is necessary, as Tzoladia and Karso have a good trading relationship. Another interesting aspect of the book was its description of the characters’ mythological-religious beliefs that influenced and undergirded the constitutions of their societies and cultures.
I read a few pages each day but did not entirely know how the book fit together until I looked over it again just now. That was when the book came alive to me. There is not much, at least in this book, in terms of action, but there are competing political and geo-political interests, a sense of mystery, and characters who wrestle with their own complex feelings.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author. My review is honest!
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Book Write-Up: Exposing Universalism, by James B. De Young
James B. De Young. Exposing
Universalism: A Comprehensive Guide to the Faulty Appeals Made by
Universalists Paul Young, Brian McLaren, Rob Bell, and Others Past and
Present to Promote a New Kind of Christianity. Resource Publications (Imprint of Wipf and Stock), 2018. See here to purchase the book.
James B. De Young teaches New Testament Language and Literature at Western Seminary, which is in Portland, Oregon. In Exposing Universalism, De Young argues against universalism, the idea that all people, and even the devil and his demons, are saved or will be saved. De Young defends the concept of Eternal Conscious Torment in hell for those who reject Jesus Christ.
Here are some of my thoughts about the book:
A. I find a lot of universalists to be annoying. To add some caveats before I explain why, I can sympathize with them having problems with the concept of Eternal Conscious Torment for people who do not accept Christ as their personal Savior. I also acknowledge that some universalists are more nuanced and knowledgeable than others: Gregory MacDonald/Robin Parry comes to mind as a nuanced, knowledgeable universalist. And I should highlight that De Young’s problem with universalists is not merely (or even) that they are annoying; rather, he regards their beliefs as dangerous and soul-damning. For De Young, a lot is at stake in this debate.
That said, I find a lot of the popular universalists (the sorts you will find on social media) to be annoying. For one, they are so dogmatic about things that they know little about. I have seen more than one of them dogmatically declare that Jesus in Matthew 25:46 teaches that the wicked will suffer age-lasting correction, not everlasting punishment. Oh really? Are they absolutely certain of this? Are they saying that aionios never, ever means eternal or everlasting? It seems to be when it is used to describe God! And does kolasis always mean correction? There are times when it appears to mean punishment. Then there is the conspiracy-theory tone of some of their arguments. Some act as if eternal punishment entered the church as a result of Augustine’s pernicious influence, or the Latin translation of the Bible, even though there are early church fathers who appear to believe in everlasting punishment. But I have a little respect for the popular universalists who at least attempt to present exegetical or historical arguments, as flawed, as simplistic, and as grossly ignorant as those may be. Some simply bypass that altogether and say that “God is love.”
In any case, De Young engages these sorts of arguments, and he does so effectively. He acknowledges nuance, as when he admits that there are times when aionios means a long time rather than eternal. He makes a contextual case, however, that aionios means eternal when the subject is eternal punishment. He offers a rather convincing case that, in Romans and Colossians, people are alienated from God and are subject to wrath until they believe in Jesus Christ, showing that Christ’s death did not save them prior to that point; faith is essential for salvation. De Young refers to New Testament passages that seem to indicate that punishment is the ultimate outcome of the wicked, meaning there is no opportunity for them to repent after that (see, for example, II Peter 3:9), and he contends that passages about the unpardonable sin and apostasy undermine the possibility that everyone will be saved. He also refers to early patristic passages that say or imply that there is no opportunity to repent after death. Will any of this convince hard-core popular universalists? Probably not. You would make more progress talking to that wall over there! But, if you want a book that presents effective arguments against universalism, this is one to read.
B. That said, questions remain in my mind after reading De Young’s book. Here are some of them:
—-De Young appears to believe that there are exceptions to the requirement of placing one’s faith explicitly in Jesus Christ to be saved. People who have not heard the Gospel but respond in humble repentance to the light that they have are saved, as far as De Young are concerned. Does that contradict, or at least qualify, the Scriptural requirement that people believe in Christ to be saved? If there are exceptions to that rule, then can we dogmatically proclaim that there is absolutely no possibility that God will grant people opportunities to repent after death? There are times in Scripture when God makes a threat but relents on account of God’s mercy. This is not to suggest that we should be cavalier, but perhaps there is a sliver of hope for loved ones who die without having said the sinner’s prayer.
—-De Young would quote church fathers who appear to deny the possibility of post-mortem repentance. Yet, in refuting universalist scholars, he would refer authoritatively to scholars who say that those same church fathers embraced universalism. How can this be?
—-De Young states that universalism actually depicts God as cruel: God tortures sinners until they finally repent, as if God is twisting their arm. That is a valid point, but is Eternal Conscious Torment, without any hope at all, any better? Also, in the Hebrew Bible, it does appear that God afflicts Israel in an attempt to encourage her to repent.
—-At times, De Young seems to depict hell as God giving unbelievers what they want: separation from God. They sent themselves to hell, and God respects their choice. Yet, De Young occasionally depicts hell as a place of physical pain, the sort of place no one would want to go. On the issue of choice, De Young sometimes sounds like a Calvinist, but sometimes he sounds like one who believes that sinners in this life can actually choose to repent and only have themselves to blame if they do not. In addition, while De Young stresses free will, he appears to deny that people have free will once they are in heaven or hell. The wicked cannot repent in hell, and the righteous in heaven cannot relapse into sin. Otherwise, he asks, how can we rest assured that people in heaven will not rebel and start a fresh cycle of sin?
—-De Young briefly refers to the view of Edersheim that the schools of Shammai and Hillel in the first century believed in eternal punishment, that rabbinic Judaism relaxed this view in the second century, and that it returned to eternal punishment in the third century. There may be some truth to this conception of Judaism, as there are Second Temple references to eternal punishment. But there is more to the story when it comes to Shammai and Hillel. According to Tosefta Sanhedrin 13:3, Shammai believed that there was an intermediate group (neither righteous nor wicked) who would cry out to God in Gehenna and receive deliverance; Hillel stressed God’s mercy. Whether this negatively impacts De Young’s argument is not readily apparent, however, since Shammai states that the wicked receive eternal punishment, and he appears to interpret eternity there as eternity, nothing temporary. Still, he does regard Gehenna as a temporary experience for a lot of people.
—-De Young contends that hell appears in the Hebrew Bible, and he argues against the idea that the Hebrew Bible lacks a rigorous concept of the afterlife; De Young also briefly engages the idea that the Jews got the idea of hell from the Zoroastrians. If the Hebrew Bible is relevant, though, then certain texts deserve some consideration (not that De Young did not present a robust case with what he did address). There is Isaiah 28:24-29, which may be implying that God does not thresh without end but has a productive purpose for threshing. Would a God with that character torment people in hell without end? There is Ezekiel 16, which predicts the ultimate restoration of Sodom, a city that Jude 1:7 discusses in reference to eternal fire. There are also cases in which eternal punishment is temporary, as is the case with Judah and Jerusalem, which eventually are restored (see Isaiah 33:14; Jeremiah 18:15-16; 23:39-40). On that last point, De Young briefly argues that the temporal destruction in the Hebrew Bible is a type of the eternal punishment in hell in the New Testament, and he points to other examples of types in the Bible. This argument deserves consideration.
—-A lot of times, De Young seems to suggest that, if universalism is true, then nobody has anything to worry about. Why would the rich man in Hades want his brothers to be warned, if hell were a place of merely temporary punishment (Luke 16:20-31)? Why would God be delaying the destruction of the world to give people a chance to repent rather than perish, if everyone will receive an opportunity to repent in the afterlife or the new heavens and new earth (II Peter 3:9)? But even temporary torment in hell is not enjoyable.
C. De Young recognizes that there are different kinds of universalists. He offers an informative history of universalism in America and the various beliefs that emerged within that. Some universalists believe that there will be a post-mortem, albeit temporary, punishment for non-believers, whereas others deny this. Some universalists believe that the death of Christ was necessary to reconcile people to God, which implies that people deserve hell, even if, through God’s mercy, they will not go there. Others deny that people even deserve hell, as they question the justice of it. While De Young acknowledges such nuance, there are times when he seems to lump universalists together, as if they are monolithic. It may even be the case that universalists are more diverse than De Young thinks. One can be a universalist and support the institution of the church or be a political conservative. One can be a universalist and witness to others about the importance of faith in Christ.
D. There are occasions in which De Young’s arguments are interesting, yet rather brief and elliptical, as when he asks why there even is a heaven if universalism is true. There were also times when De Young offered a thought-provoking insight that I had not considered before, as when he sought to reconcile annihilationism and Eternal Conscious Torment by saying that hell will be forgotten by the saints in heaven, and when he said that people in hell will still be committing sins.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
James B. De Young teaches New Testament Language and Literature at Western Seminary, which is in Portland, Oregon. In Exposing Universalism, De Young argues against universalism, the idea that all people, and even the devil and his demons, are saved or will be saved. De Young defends the concept of Eternal Conscious Torment in hell for those who reject Jesus Christ.
Here are some of my thoughts about the book:
A. I find a lot of universalists to be annoying. To add some caveats before I explain why, I can sympathize with them having problems with the concept of Eternal Conscious Torment for people who do not accept Christ as their personal Savior. I also acknowledge that some universalists are more nuanced and knowledgeable than others: Gregory MacDonald/Robin Parry comes to mind as a nuanced, knowledgeable universalist. And I should highlight that De Young’s problem with universalists is not merely (or even) that they are annoying; rather, he regards their beliefs as dangerous and soul-damning. For De Young, a lot is at stake in this debate.
That said, I find a lot of the popular universalists (the sorts you will find on social media) to be annoying. For one, they are so dogmatic about things that they know little about. I have seen more than one of them dogmatically declare that Jesus in Matthew 25:46 teaches that the wicked will suffer age-lasting correction, not everlasting punishment. Oh really? Are they absolutely certain of this? Are they saying that aionios never, ever means eternal or everlasting? It seems to be when it is used to describe God! And does kolasis always mean correction? There are times when it appears to mean punishment. Then there is the conspiracy-theory tone of some of their arguments. Some act as if eternal punishment entered the church as a result of Augustine’s pernicious influence, or the Latin translation of the Bible, even though there are early church fathers who appear to believe in everlasting punishment. But I have a little respect for the popular universalists who at least attempt to present exegetical or historical arguments, as flawed, as simplistic, and as grossly ignorant as those may be. Some simply bypass that altogether and say that “God is love.”
In any case, De Young engages these sorts of arguments, and he does so effectively. He acknowledges nuance, as when he admits that there are times when aionios means a long time rather than eternal. He makes a contextual case, however, that aionios means eternal when the subject is eternal punishment. He offers a rather convincing case that, in Romans and Colossians, people are alienated from God and are subject to wrath until they believe in Jesus Christ, showing that Christ’s death did not save them prior to that point; faith is essential for salvation. De Young refers to New Testament passages that seem to indicate that punishment is the ultimate outcome of the wicked, meaning there is no opportunity for them to repent after that (see, for example, II Peter 3:9), and he contends that passages about the unpardonable sin and apostasy undermine the possibility that everyone will be saved. He also refers to early patristic passages that say or imply that there is no opportunity to repent after death. Will any of this convince hard-core popular universalists? Probably not. You would make more progress talking to that wall over there! But, if you want a book that presents effective arguments against universalism, this is one to read.
B. That said, questions remain in my mind after reading De Young’s book. Here are some of them:
—-De Young appears to believe that there are exceptions to the requirement of placing one’s faith explicitly in Jesus Christ to be saved. People who have not heard the Gospel but respond in humble repentance to the light that they have are saved, as far as De Young are concerned. Does that contradict, or at least qualify, the Scriptural requirement that people believe in Christ to be saved? If there are exceptions to that rule, then can we dogmatically proclaim that there is absolutely no possibility that God will grant people opportunities to repent after death? There are times in Scripture when God makes a threat but relents on account of God’s mercy. This is not to suggest that we should be cavalier, but perhaps there is a sliver of hope for loved ones who die without having said the sinner’s prayer.
—-De Young would quote church fathers who appear to deny the possibility of post-mortem repentance. Yet, in refuting universalist scholars, he would refer authoritatively to scholars who say that those same church fathers embraced universalism. How can this be?
—-De Young states that universalism actually depicts God as cruel: God tortures sinners until they finally repent, as if God is twisting their arm. That is a valid point, but is Eternal Conscious Torment, without any hope at all, any better? Also, in the Hebrew Bible, it does appear that God afflicts Israel in an attempt to encourage her to repent.
—-At times, De Young seems to depict hell as God giving unbelievers what they want: separation from God. They sent themselves to hell, and God respects their choice. Yet, De Young occasionally depicts hell as a place of physical pain, the sort of place no one would want to go. On the issue of choice, De Young sometimes sounds like a Calvinist, but sometimes he sounds like one who believes that sinners in this life can actually choose to repent and only have themselves to blame if they do not. In addition, while De Young stresses free will, he appears to deny that people have free will once they are in heaven or hell. The wicked cannot repent in hell, and the righteous in heaven cannot relapse into sin. Otherwise, he asks, how can we rest assured that people in heaven will not rebel and start a fresh cycle of sin?
—-De Young briefly refers to the view of Edersheim that the schools of Shammai and Hillel in the first century believed in eternal punishment, that rabbinic Judaism relaxed this view in the second century, and that it returned to eternal punishment in the third century. There may be some truth to this conception of Judaism, as there are Second Temple references to eternal punishment. But there is more to the story when it comes to Shammai and Hillel. According to Tosefta Sanhedrin 13:3, Shammai believed that there was an intermediate group (neither righteous nor wicked) who would cry out to God in Gehenna and receive deliverance; Hillel stressed God’s mercy. Whether this negatively impacts De Young’s argument is not readily apparent, however, since Shammai states that the wicked receive eternal punishment, and he appears to interpret eternity there as eternity, nothing temporary. Still, he does regard Gehenna as a temporary experience for a lot of people.
—-De Young contends that hell appears in the Hebrew Bible, and he argues against the idea that the Hebrew Bible lacks a rigorous concept of the afterlife; De Young also briefly engages the idea that the Jews got the idea of hell from the Zoroastrians. If the Hebrew Bible is relevant, though, then certain texts deserve some consideration (not that De Young did not present a robust case with what he did address). There is Isaiah 28:24-29, which may be implying that God does not thresh without end but has a productive purpose for threshing. Would a God with that character torment people in hell without end? There is Ezekiel 16, which predicts the ultimate restoration of Sodom, a city that Jude 1:7 discusses in reference to eternal fire. There are also cases in which eternal punishment is temporary, as is the case with Judah and Jerusalem, which eventually are restored (see Isaiah 33:14; Jeremiah 18:15-16; 23:39-40). On that last point, De Young briefly argues that the temporal destruction in the Hebrew Bible is a type of the eternal punishment in hell in the New Testament, and he points to other examples of types in the Bible. This argument deserves consideration.
—-A lot of times, De Young seems to suggest that, if universalism is true, then nobody has anything to worry about. Why would the rich man in Hades want his brothers to be warned, if hell were a place of merely temporary punishment (Luke 16:20-31)? Why would God be delaying the destruction of the world to give people a chance to repent rather than perish, if everyone will receive an opportunity to repent in the afterlife or the new heavens and new earth (II Peter 3:9)? But even temporary torment in hell is not enjoyable.
C. De Young recognizes that there are different kinds of universalists. He offers an informative history of universalism in America and the various beliefs that emerged within that. Some universalists believe that there will be a post-mortem, albeit temporary, punishment for non-believers, whereas others deny this. Some universalists believe that the death of Christ was necessary to reconcile people to God, which implies that people deserve hell, even if, through God’s mercy, they will not go there. Others deny that people even deserve hell, as they question the justice of it. While De Young acknowledges such nuance, there are times when he seems to lump universalists together, as if they are monolithic. It may even be the case that universalists are more diverse than De Young thinks. One can be a universalist and support the institution of the church or be a political conservative. One can be a universalist and witness to others about the importance of faith in Christ.
D. There are occasions in which De Young’s arguments are interesting, yet rather brief and elliptical, as when he asks why there even is a heaven if universalism is true. There were also times when De Young offered a thought-provoking insight that I had not considered before, as when he sought to reconcile annihilationism and Eternal Conscious Torment by saying that hell will be forgotten by the saints in heaven, and when he said that people in hell will still be committing sins.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Book Write-Up: Evangelical Theological Method, Five Views
Stanley E. Porter and Steven M. Studebaker, ed. Evangelical Theological Method: Five Views. IVP Academic, 2018. See here to purchase the book.
This book is part of a series known as the “Spectrum Multiview Books,” published by IVP Academic. In this book, five scholars present their views on a particular issue, one after the other, then they respond to the other scholars. The editors of the book, Stanley E. Porter and Steven M. Studebaker, offer an introductory chapter and a concluding chapter that assesses the different perspectives in the book. The issue in this volume is “evangelical theological method”: How do evangelicals do theology? What are their emphases and approaches in making statements about God, Christ, and God’s activity and will?
The introductory chapter is entitled “Method in Systematic Theology: An Introduction.” It is a strong chapter, in that it lays out lucid definitions of methods and terms as well as discusses the sources for theology. Among the methods and terms that it explains are Propositional Theology, Liberal Theology, Postliberal Theology, Postconservative Theology, the Canonical-Linguistic Approach, and Radical Orthodoxy. Among the sources that are mentioned are Scripture, religious experience, and the ways that churches have historically interpreted the biblical text. The chapter offers a summary of the proceeding perspectives.
The first approach, presented by Sung Wook Chung, is more or less propositional: the Bible is a divinely-inspired book that makes propositional statements about God, and interpreters read the Bible to discern the truth about God. The second approach, that of John R. Franke, stresses the importance of mission: the church has a mission to serve the world in love, in the distinct contexts that the world presents. The third approach is “Interdisciplinary Theology,” and it is presented by Telford C. Work. It places the Bible in dialogue with other fields of study, and it discusses homosexuality as a test-case for this. The fourth approach is “Contextual Theology,” and it affirms that the truth of the Gospel can be applied to different cultural contexts, without the Gospel being compromised. Victor Ifeanyi Ezigbo contributes this chapter. Finally, there is “Trinitarian Dogmatic Theology,” contributed by Paul Louis Metzger. It primarily draws from Karl Barth, who stresses the Trinity’s role in divine revelation.
A question lingered in my mind in reading this book, namely, can any evangelical theological method make a doctrinal statement about God without acknowledging that Scripture makes authoritative propositions? The first perspective, as was said, is more or less a propositional approach: we have the Bible, which is divine revelation, and we read the Bible to see what it authoritatively declares about God. Other contributors raised questions or concerns about this approach. Does it disregard context, particularly the cultural and historical context of the interpreters that shapes how they approach the text and the questions they are asking as they seek to apply it to their own situations? The concluding essay raises the question of whether it treats the Bible as a univocal text rather than a collection of diverse writings, thereby assuming an inaccurate model of Scripture. Yet, the other contributors assume doctrinal propositions about God, and they are basing those propositions, by and large, on Scripture. Whether they realize it or not, they cannot discard the propositional approach, whatever weaknesses they may see in it. They may recognize the weaknesses, but they do not adequately deal with the weaknesses, and they act as if the weaknesses are not there. There is also the question of whether the less-than-propositional contributors really go anywhere in showing how their method actually draws theological conclusions. The contributors critique each other over this, and the final chapter admits that work remains to be done.
That is my overall critique, but the book still has value. It highlights the tension between needing some foundation or authority for theology, and the existence of theology within a context, as it is applied to people’s real-life situations. The revealer and the audience of the revelation are both significant, in short. The introductory chapter is an excellent primer on different theological approaches, even though it left questions in my mind. For instance, the Postliberal method is anthropocentric in its approach to theology, but does it believe that theology can draw reliable conclusions about God? Are Christian doctrines true in what they say, beyond the fact that they shape communities and attempt to address human questions? In a sense, the book hammered home predictable points and made predictable responses to the other perspectives, but it still contained interesting points and details, as the authors illustrated the issues to which their approaches are relevant. For example, there is this gem by Work: “God may disappoint postcolonial missionaries’ multicultural expectations as much as God frustrated Constantinian missionaries’ civilizing ones” (page 172). Work’s “response” chapter was more elliptical than the others, but it was also the most intriguing in that I could not tell where he was going to go in his critiques.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
This book is part of a series known as the “Spectrum Multiview Books,” published by IVP Academic. In this book, five scholars present their views on a particular issue, one after the other, then they respond to the other scholars. The editors of the book, Stanley E. Porter and Steven M. Studebaker, offer an introductory chapter and a concluding chapter that assesses the different perspectives in the book. The issue in this volume is “evangelical theological method”: How do evangelicals do theology? What are their emphases and approaches in making statements about God, Christ, and God’s activity and will?
The introductory chapter is entitled “Method in Systematic Theology: An Introduction.” It is a strong chapter, in that it lays out lucid definitions of methods and terms as well as discusses the sources for theology. Among the methods and terms that it explains are Propositional Theology, Liberal Theology, Postliberal Theology, Postconservative Theology, the Canonical-Linguistic Approach, and Radical Orthodoxy. Among the sources that are mentioned are Scripture, religious experience, and the ways that churches have historically interpreted the biblical text. The chapter offers a summary of the proceeding perspectives.
The first approach, presented by Sung Wook Chung, is more or less propositional: the Bible is a divinely-inspired book that makes propositional statements about God, and interpreters read the Bible to discern the truth about God. The second approach, that of John R. Franke, stresses the importance of mission: the church has a mission to serve the world in love, in the distinct contexts that the world presents. The third approach is “Interdisciplinary Theology,” and it is presented by Telford C. Work. It places the Bible in dialogue with other fields of study, and it discusses homosexuality as a test-case for this. The fourth approach is “Contextual Theology,” and it affirms that the truth of the Gospel can be applied to different cultural contexts, without the Gospel being compromised. Victor Ifeanyi Ezigbo contributes this chapter. Finally, there is “Trinitarian Dogmatic Theology,” contributed by Paul Louis Metzger. It primarily draws from Karl Barth, who stresses the Trinity’s role in divine revelation.
A question lingered in my mind in reading this book, namely, can any evangelical theological method make a doctrinal statement about God without acknowledging that Scripture makes authoritative propositions? The first perspective, as was said, is more or less a propositional approach: we have the Bible, which is divine revelation, and we read the Bible to see what it authoritatively declares about God. Other contributors raised questions or concerns about this approach. Does it disregard context, particularly the cultural and historical context of the interpreters that shapes how they approach the text and the questions they are asking as they seek to apply it to their own situations? The concluding essay raises the question of whether it treats the Bible as a univocal text rather than a collection of diverse writings, thereby assuming an inaccurate model of Scripture. Yet, the other contributors assume doctrinal propositions about God, and they are basing those propositions, by and large, on Scripture. Whether they realize it or not, they cannot discard the propositional approach, whatever weaknesses they may see in it. They may recognize the weaknesses, but they do not adequately deal with the weaknesses, and they act as if the weaknesses are not there. There is also the question of whether the less-than-propositional contributors really go anywhere in showing how their method actually draws theological conclusions. The contributors critique each other over this, and the final chapter admits that work remains to be done.
That is my overall critique, but the book still has value. It highlights the tension between needing some foundation or authority for theology, and the existence of theology within a context, as it is applied to people’s real-life situations. The revealer and the audience of the revelation are both significant, in short. The introductory chapter is an excellent primer on different theological approaches, even though it left questions in my mind. For instance, the Postliberal method is anthropocentric in its approach to theology, but does it believe that theology can draw reliable conclusions about God? Are Christian doctrines true in what they say, beyond the fact that they shape communities and attempt to address human questions? In a sense, the book hammered home predictable points and made predictable responses to the other perspectives, but it still contained interesting points and details, as the authors illustrated the issues to which their approaches are relevant. For example, there is this gem by Work: “God may disappoint postcolonial missionaries’ multicultural expectations as much as God frustrated Constantinian missionaries’ civilizing ones” (page 172). Work’s “response” chapter was more elliptical than the others, but it was also the most intriguing in that I could not tell where he was going to go in his critiques.
I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher. My review is honest.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)