Posts
The United Methodist Church that I have been attending for the past
couple of months has been going through the UMC’s Social Principles in
its Sunday School class. Last week, one of the people in the class was
talking about economics. We were in the section of the Social
Principles about “The Economic Community,” and economics is a subject of
interest for one of the regular attendants of the Sunday School class.
He has read a lot about the subject, and, essentially, he adheres to
the Austrian school of economics. He describes himself as a
libertarian, which means that there are two libertarians in the class.
I understood some of what he was saying, but not everything. He is
against the government borrowing a lot of money and creating money out
of thin air, since that leads to inflation. He is for personal savings
and thinks that even private citizens should be reluctant to go into
debt. He laments that Federal Reserve notes are not redeemable by gold,
and he believes that John F. Kennedy’s assassination may have related
to JFK challenging the Federal Reserve (see here).
He is critical of lowering interest rates, saying that interest rates
are a critical indicator of whether one should save or go into debt. He
also said that booms can lead to busts and that 2% economic growth a
year is sustainable.
The progressives in the group were not challenging what he was
saying, and I think that was because they identified with some of it.
He was criticizing the Iraq War and how that led to lots of debt because
the government preferred to go into debt to pay for it rather than to
collect a war tax. That would definitely resonate with progressives,
who think that the Iraq War was a bad idea. He was saying that there
are people with vested interests in the current economic system. That
resonated with a progressive in the group who opposes Citizens’ United,
even though the two of them may disagree on Citizens’ United. And he
was criticizing going into debt and not having enough savings, and I am
sure that a number of progressives can respect that as common-sense
wisdom—-when one can save and avoid debt, that is.
Often, critics of Austrian economics have maintained that inflation
right now is not much of a problem. Bruce Bartlett said more than once
during the Obama Presidency that all this money is out there but that
people are not spending much of it, and so the abundant money supply is
not contributing to inflation; rather, deflation is the problem.
Yesterday, I was watching a video by Robert Reich that was saying that the Federal Reserve should not raise interest rates (my friend Laurie discusses
the video on her political blog). Reich was saying that low interest
rates stimulate the economy and allow people to spend more money on
necessities rather than debt, and he also said that, overall, inflation
is currently not a problem. He said that high prices are a problem in
certain big companies where competition is lacking, but not overall. Reich was making this
point because the conventional economic wisdom has long been that there
is an inverse relationship between inflation and interest rates.
Indeed, according to this chart,
inflation is low. At the same time, I have difficulty saying that
inflation is not a problem. I know that, during the four years that I
was living in upstate New York, my Mom and her husband complained often
about the high prices of groceries, and how the prices continued to
rise. That was difficult for us, especially in a time when every single
dollar mattered. Now that we live in Washington and shop at a grocery
store that has low prices, that is not as much of a problem for us, and
there is a little more flexibility in our finances. But high prices
were a problem for us, for a long time.
Friday, August 7, 2015
Book Write-Up: Mapping Your Academic Career, by Gary M. Burge
Gary M. Burge. Mapping Your Academic Career: Charting the Course of a Professor’s Life. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015. See here to buy the book.
In Mapping Your Academic Career, New Testament professor Gary Burge talks about the various stages of a professor’s career. There is the early stage, when the professor is trying to impress people, learn the ropes, and arrive at a state of security. There is the stage after a professor receives tenure, when a professor may find his or her own voice, make a contribution to scholarship, and be respected from his or her university and colleagues. Then there is the later stage, when a professor’s phone may not ring too often, but this stage can still prove significant: it can be a time when a professor reflects on larger questions, takes a detour and pursues something else, or offers wisdom to the professors in the first stage. All of these stages can have pitfalls, Burge argues, for discouragement, demoralization, burn-out, and unkind people in academia are all real. But the stages also have potential for success.
This is not really a book about how to get an academic job. It also does not address the proliferation of adjuncts in academia today, along with the rarity of getting a tenure-track position. Still, it does provide insight into how academia works, and I would say that even those who do not land a tenure-track position can benefit from its insights. Burge talks about how some professors try to act cool to impress their students, when the students actually are looking for a wise adult. He discusses effective teaching and how it tries to establish a connection with students rather than impersonally conveying information. He highlights the importance of academics picking a particular, specialized topic of interest (in one academic’s case, synagogues in Galilee before 70 C.E.) and learning all one can about that so that one can establish a niche, interact with scholars who have a similar interest, and make a contribution in that area. Moreover, while the book is not entirely helpful in explaining how one can make friends in academia, it does contain common-sense tips on how one can be a friend to new academics, in an environment that can get lonely: care about how the new academic did on his or her first day of class, introduce the new academic to other academics, etc.
Burge is not a psychologist, but his wife is a therapist, and he has an interest in psychology. That came out in this book, as Burge brought into his discussion psychological insights about stages of life and maturity.
There are other books that can guide academics on how to get their work published. This book could have gone into that more, so it was not as helpful in that department, though I did appreciate its definition of scholarship as interaction with the ideas of the scholarly world and trying to forge a new way forward. This book is helpful, however, in what it says about the atmosphere of academia, and life.
The publisher sent me a review copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.
In Mapping Your Academic Career, New Testament professor Gary Burge talks about the various stages of a professor’s career. There is the early stage, when the professor is trying to impress people, learn the ropes, and arrive at a state of security. There is the stage after a professor receives tenure, when a professor may find his or her own voice, make a contribution to scholarship, and be respected from his or her university and colleagues. Then there is the later stage, when a professor’s phone may not ring too often, but this stage can still prove significant: it can be a time when a professor reflects on larger questions, takes a detour and pursues something else, or offers wisdom to the professors in the first stage. All of these stages can have pitfalls, Burge argues, for discouragement, demoralization, burn-out, and unkind people in academia are all real. But the stages also have potential for success.
This is not really a book about how to get an academic job. It also does not address the proliferation of adjuncts in academia today, along with the rarity of getting a tenure-track position. Still, it does provide insight into how academia works, and I would say that even those who do not land a tenure-track position can benefit from its insights. Burge talks about how some professors try to act cool to impress their students, when the students actually are looking for a wise adult. He discusses effective teaching and how it tries to establish a connection with students rather than impersonally conveying information. He highlights the importance of academics picking a particular, specialized topic of interest (in one academic’s case, synagogues in Galilee before 70 C.E.) and learning all one can about that so that one can establish a niche, interact with scholars who have a similar interest, and make a contribution in that area. Moreover, while the book is not entirely helpful in explaining how one can make friends in academia, it does contain common-sense tips on how one can be a friend to new academics, in an environment that can get lonely: care about how the new academic did on his or her first day of class, introduce the new academic to other academics, etc.
Burge is not a psychologist, but his wife is a therapist, and he has an interest in psychology. That came out in this book, as Burge brought into his discussion psychological insights about stages of life and maturity.
There are other books that can guide academics on how to get their work published. This book could have gone into that more, so it was not as helpful in that department, though I did appreciate its definition of scholarship as interaction with the ideas of the scholarly world and trying to forge a new way forward. This book is helpful, however, in what it says about the atmosphere of academia, and life.
The publisher sent me a review copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Book Write-Up: Rediscovering Jesus
David B. Capes, Rodney Reeves and E. Randolph Richards. Rediscovering Jesus: An Introduction to Biblical, Religious and Cultural Perspectives on Christ. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015. See here to buy the book.
Rediscovering Jesus explores portrayals of Jesus in both the New Testament and also outside of the Bible. It discusses how Jesus appears in each New Testament Gospel; the Pauline writings; the Epistle to the Hebrews; the letters of James, Jude, and 1-2 Peter; and the Book of Revelation. In terms of portrayals of Jesus outside of the Bible, the book looks at Gnostic literature, Islam, historical Jesus studies, Mormonism, America, and the cinema. In its conclusion, the book candidly acknowledges that it did not cover the portrayal of Jesus in non-Western cultures, and it says that one cannot legitimately stereotype the “African Jesus” or the “Asian Jesus” because these regions and their portrayals of Jesus are so diverse.
In terms of its place on the spectrum of scholarship, the book has both conservative and liberal elements. The conservative elements are that it believes that the Gospels of Matthew and Mark manifest a high Christology (i.e., Jesus is God, and even pre-existent in the Gospel of Matthew), and it maintains that Paul wrote Ephesians and Colossians, that James and Jude the brothers of Jesus wrote the New Testament books that bear their names, and that Peter wrote 1-2 Peter. While the book makes arguments for Mark and Matthew having a high Christology, it usually (not always, but usually) seemed to assume its beliefs about authorship, without really defending them.
In terms of the book’s liberal elements, it acknowledged the diversity of Scripture. It even went so far as to dispute that Luke saw Jesus’ death on the cross as atoning for people’s sins, maintaining that Luke had another view about the significance of Christ’s death. The book also challenged evangelical tendencies to project their beliefs onto the text, or to conflate New Testament texts rather than allowing each New Testament author to speak with his own voice: the book says, for example, that the Gospel of John does not really have a concept of Christians going into the world and evangelizing but envisions Jesus the shepherd bringing new converts into the community; that Paul, too, has a rather inward focus on the Christian community in his letters; and that the Book of Revelation does not even envision God granting people an opportunity to repent during the eschaton. Whether or not one agrees with the book’s conclusions (and I do not entirely), its wrestling with issues and its willingness to arrive at conclusions that may be unconventional for evangelicals are what make the book interesting.
The book speculates about an intriguing question: What would Christianity be like if all we had was one particular source? Suppose that we only had the Gospel of Matthew, or the Epistle of James? This exercise did allow the reader to focus on what each source said, and what it did not say. It was a valuable exercise, and the book did well to include it. I have two critiques of it, however, from two opposite perspectives. First of all, such an exercise may assume that Christian communities operated in a vacuum, when that may not have been the case. The book holds that, in a number of cases, Christian communities only had one Gospel rather than all four, whereas Richard Bauckham in The Gospels for All Christians challenges that idea. Second, from the opposite perspective, the book seems to maintain that all of the New Testament writings complement each other, in the end: that, say, Revelation cannot stand alone, but it needs voices from other New Testament writings to complement it so that we arrive at a more balanced perspective. But I question whether the writings can complement each other successfully, in certain areas. The book said that, if all we had was Matthew’s Gospel, we would be observing the Torah. How would that complement Paul’s view that Gentiles did not have to observe the Torah?
Usually, in reading books about Jesus, especially evangelical books about Jesus, I try to observe how the books treat the idea that Jesus in the synoptic Gospels expected the imminent end of the world, and also how they define the Kingdom of God in the synoptic Gospels. Rediscovering Jesus did interact with these issues, sometimes indirectly, and sometimes more directly. It quoted Mark 3:27 and said that Jesus in his ministry was binding the strong man (Satan) in order to take possession of the world. It said that the Messiah in the Gospel of Matthew had something to do with deliverance from Roman oppression. In these cases, the book did not really wrestle with the question of whether Jesus was successful, but its discussion of the Gospel of Luke did wrestle with whether (and how) Jesus fulfilled his Messianic mission, and it mentioned the idea that the Kingdom of God was already-but-not-yet. The book said that Luke had a gradual eschatology: God’s reign spreads throughout the world as the Gospel is proclaimed through the power of God’s Spirit, and that this occurs gradually until Christ’s return. My impression was that the book deemed this eschatology to be different from what is in the Book of Revelation. In terms of eschatology, some of the book’s discussions were unsatisfactory or incomplete, especially in detailing how Christian believers can deal religiously with passages that may arguably manifest an imminent eschatology; some of the book’s discussions, however, were quite good, especially the one on Luke’s eschatology.
The chapters about Jesus in extra-biblical literature were good, overall, in that they were lucid and informative. The chapter on Gnosticism acknowledged the complexity of defining Gnosticism, and the chapters on Mormonism and Islam provided useful background information. The chapter on the American Jesus made some good points, especially about the Jesuses who appeal to women and to men (i.e., romantic Jesus, macho Jesus), but I thought that it could be judgmental, in areas, especially when it was criticizing people who believe in a radical Jesus—-essentially, it was putting words in their mouths and making judgments about what motivated them and what they would do in such-and-such situations.
I had a variety of favorite passages in this book. The book referred to a historical Jesus scholar who said that Jesus did not multiply the loaves and fishes but rather encouraged people by his example to share their food, something that they were reluctant to do; the book disagrees with this view, and I do not entirely buy it either, but it is a beautiful concept. In discussing the complexities of portraying Jesus in film, the book was asking if Jesus was carefree and happy when he told the scribe who wanted to follow him that the Son of Man had nowhere to lay his head (Matthew 8:20; Luke 9:58)—-that Jesus was not trying to put the scribe off, but rather was encouraging the scribe to embrace a carefree life of trusting in God to meet his needs. That reminds me that tone is everything, that maybe the Gospel passages in which Jesus appears to be a jerk can be understood differently. The book said that one who believes in a masculine Jesus would highlight that Jesus was strong in the midst of his crucifixion. I personally tend to recoil from attempts to proclaim a macho Jesus, but that passage did resonate with me, perhaps because it highlighted that different views of Jesus can notice different things. The book said more than once that people try to create Jesus in their own image, but maybe that is not entirely fair: perhaps people notice different things about Jesus that are edifying, based on who and where they are.
The book was written by three authors, and it would have done well to have identified which author was speaking, particularly when the author was telling stories in first-person narrative.
This book is informative, and it would be good for students of the New Testament, or interested learners.
The publisher sent me a complimentary copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.
Rediscovering Jesus explores portrayals of Jesus in both the New Testament and also outside of the Bible. It discusses how Jesus appears in each New Testament Gospel; the Pauline writings; the Epistle to the Hebrews; the letters of James, Jude, and 1-2 Peter; and the Book of Revelation. In terms of portrayals of Jesus outside of the Bible, the book looks at Gnostic literature, Islam, historical Jesus studies, Mormonism, America, and the cinema. In its conclusion, the book candidly acknowledges that it did not cover the portrayal of Jesus in non-Western cultures, and it says that one cannot legitimately stereotype the “African Jesus” or the “Asian Jesus” because these regions and their portrayals of Jesus are so diverse.
In terms of its place on the spectrum of scholarship, the book has both conservative and liberal elements. The conservative elements are that it believes that the Gospels of Matthew and Mark manifest a high Christology (i.e., Jesus is God, and even pre-existent in the Gospel of Matthew), and it maintains that Paul wrote Ephesians and Colossians, that James and Jude the brothers of Jesus wrote the New Testament books that bear their names, and that Peter wrote 1-2 Peter. While the book makes arguments for Mark and Matthew having a high Christology, it usually (not always, but usually) seemed to assume its beliefs about authorship, without really defending them.
In terms of the book’s liberal elements, it acknowledged the diversity of Scripture. It even went so far as to dispute that Luke saw Jesus’ death on the cross as atoning for people’s sins, maintaining that Luke had another view about the significance of Christ’s death. The book also challenged evangelical tendencies to project their beliefs onto the text, or to conflate New Testament texts rather than allowing each New Testament author to speak with his own voice: the book says, for example, that the Gospel of John does not really have a concept of Christians going into the world and evangelizing but envisions Jesus the shepherd bringing new converts into the community; that Paul, too, has a rather inward focus on the Christian community in his letters; and that the Book of Revelation does not even envision God granting people an opportunity to repent during the eschaton. Whether or not one agrees with the book’s conclusions (and I do not entirely), its wrestling with issues and its willingness to arrive at conclusions that may be unconventional for evangelicals are what make the book interesting.
The book speculates about an intriguing question: What would Christianity be like if all we had was one particular source? Suppose that we only had the Gospel of Matthew, or the Epistle of James? This exercise did allow the reader to focus on what each source said, and what it did not say. It was a valuable exercise, and the book did well to include it. I have two critiques of it, however, from two opposite perspectives. First of all, such an exercise may assume that Christian communities operated in a vacuum, when that may not have been the case. The book holds that, in a number of cases, Christian communities only had one Gospel rather than all four, whereas Richard Bauckham in The Gospels for All Christians challenges that idea. Second, from the opposite perspective, the book seems to maintain that all of the New Testament writings complement each other, in the end: that, say, Revelation cannot stand alone, but it needs voices from other New Testament writings to complement it so that we arrive at a more balanced perspective. But I question whether the writings can complement each other successfully, in certain areas. The book said that, if all we had was Matthew’s Gospel, we would be observing the Torah. How would that complement Paul’s view that Gentiles did not have to observe the Torah?
Usually, in reading books about Jesus, especially evangelical books about Jesus, I try to observe how the books treat the idea that Jesus in the synoptic Gospels expected the imminent end of the world, and also how they define the Kingdom of God in the synoptic Gospels. Rediscovering Jesus did interact with these issues, sometimes indirectly, and sometimes more directly. It quoted Mark 3:27 and said that Jesus in his ministry was binding the strong man (Satan) in order to take possession of the world. It said that the Messiah in the Gospel of Matthew had something to do with deliverance from Roman oppression. In these cases, the book did not really wrestle with the question of whether Jesus was successful, but its discussion of the Gospel of Luke did wrestle with whether (and how) Jesus fulfilled his Messianic mission, and it mentioned the idea that the Kingdom of God was already-but-not-yet. The book said that Luke had a gradual eschatology: God’s reign spreads throughout the world as the Gospel is proclaimed through the power of God’s Spirit, and that this occurs gradually until Christ’s return. My impression was that the book deemed this eschatology to be different from what is in the Book of Revelation. In terms of eschatology, some of the book’s discussions were unsatisfactory or incomplete, especially in detailing how Christian believers can deal religiously with passages that may arguably manifest an imminent eschatology; some of the book’s discussions, however, were quite good, especially the one on Luke’s eschatology.
The chapters about Jesus in extra-biblical literature were good, overall, in that they were lucid and informative. The chapter on Gnosticism acknowledged the complexity of defining Gnosticism, and the chapters on Mormonism and Islam provided useful background information. The chapter on the American Jesus made some good points, especially about the Jesuses who appeal to women and to men (i.e., romantic Jesus, macho Jesus), but I thought that it could be judgmental, in areas, especially when it was criticizing people who believe in a radical Jesus—-essentially, it was putting words in their mouths and making judgments about what motivated them and what they would do in such-and-such situations.
I had a variety of favorite passages in this book. The book referred to a historical Jesus scholar who said that Jesus did not multiply the loaves and fishes but rather encouraged people by his example to share their food, something that they were reluctant to do; the book disagrees with this view, and I do not entirely buy it either, but it is a beautiful concept. In discussing the complexities of portraying Jesus in film, the book was asking if Jesus was carefree and happy when he told the scribe who wanted to follow him that the Son of Man had nowhere to lay his head (Matthew 8:20; Luke 9:58)—-that Jesus was not trying to put the scribe off, but rather was encouraging the scribe to embrace a carefree life of trusting in God to meet his needs. That reminds me that tone is everything, that maybe the Gospel passages in which Jesus appears to be a jerk can be understood differently. The book said that one who believes in a masculine Jesus would highlight that Jesus was strong in the midst of his crucifixion. I personally tend to recoil from attempts to proclaim a macho Jesus, but that passage did resonate with me, perhaps because it highlighted that different views of Jesus can notice different things. The book said more than once that people try to create Jesus in their own image, but maybe that is not entirely fair: perhaps people notice different things about Jesus that are edifying, based on who and where they are.
The book was written by three authors, and it would have done well to have identified which author was speaking, particularly when the author was telling stories in first-person narrative.
This book is informative, and it would be good for students of the New Testament, or interested learners.
The publisher sent me a complimentary copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Ramblings on Religious Authority, the Laying on of Hands, and the Holy Spirit
This will be a rambling, confusing post—-even to me, the person writing it!
Yesterday, I reviewed Talking Doctrine: Mormons & Evangelicals in Conversation. One chapter that I said I would like to unpack is Mormon scholar Robert Millet’s “Authority Is Everything.” I said that the chapter reminded me of religious discussions I have had. In this post, I would like to explore that territory. I am not sure where exactly I will end up, but I am exploring.
The most interested pages of Millet’s chapter on authority, in my opinion, were pages 172-174. Millet mentions the following things:
Of what religious discussions did Millet’s chapter remind me? Well, I recall a discussion in which a person was speculating that perhaps the Holy Spirit was not available to people in this day and age. I have my doubts that he believed this dogmatically, for he later indicated to me that he thought that he had the Holy Spirit. But he was speculating about whether the Holy Spirit was even available to people today. His argument was that, in the Book of Acts, people often receive the Holy Spirit when an apostle, or someone appointed directly by God, laid hands on them. In Acts 8, two apostles make a special trip to lay hands on people who have recently believed in Jesus, so that these people might receive the Holy Spirit; these people did not have the Holy Spirit until those apostles arrived and laid hands on them. Ananias later laid hands on Saul, in Acts 9, and Ananias was not an official apostle, but God directly called Ananias for this task. But, my friend was saying, there are no apostles or people directly commissioned by God today. Can people receive the Holy Spirit, if there are no apostles or people directly commissioned by God laying hands on them?
I had problems with how this argument was saying that a big chunk of the Bible—-the parts about the Holy Spirit being inside of believers—-was essentially irrelevant today. But, a few days ago, I read in this book about Mormon-Evangelical dialogue that others in Christian history have thought that parts of the Bible are irrelevant because they believe that certain institutions of authority are not present today: Roger Williams went to the extreme of believing that no one is qualified to administer the sacraments, until God sends new apostles.
The Catholic Church could perhaps respond to my friend by saying that there is an institution of divine authority these days that can lay hands on people and enable them to receive the Holy Spirit: the Catholic Church, which God established, and whose authority goes back to the time of the apostles (see here for what the Catholic Catechism says about the laying on of hands and confirmation). My friend would not buy that, though, because he believes that the Catholic Church was a degeneration or an apostasy from the pure, pristine Christianity of the twelve apostles. So where is the divine authority these days? If there is not an institution that God officially and explicitly sanctions, does that mean that people cannot receive the Holy Spirit? I have another question: on what basis do Protestants believe that God recognizes their churches? Because these churches believe in the Bible, or because Jesus said that he is in the midst of two or more who gather in his name (Matthew 18:16)?
My other question would be this: Is it necessarily the case in the New Testament that one could only receive the Holy Spirit after an apostle or someone sent by God laid hands on him or her? I think of Luke 11:13: “ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?” (KJV). Do we need someone to lay hands on us to receive the Holy Spirit, or do we just need to ask God for the Holy Spirit, and God will give the Spirit to us? Maybe the answer is the latter. On the other hand, the laying on of hands is not exactly a marginal idea within the New Testament. Hebrews 6:2 lists it as a foundational doctrine.
I will close by saying that, in the end, I believe that God is accessible to anyone who is open to him. I think of those Mormon statements that, even before Joseph Smith renewed the church, God was still a presence in people’s life. I believe that, whether or not there is an official church institution that God recognizes in this day and age.
Yesterday, I reviewed Talking Doctrine: Mormons & Evangelicals in Conversation. One chapter that I said I would like to unpack is Mormon scholar Robert Millet’s “Authority Is Everything.” I said that the chapter reminded me of religious discussions I have had. In this post, I would like to explore that territory. I am not sure where exactly I will end up, but I am exploring.
The most interested pages of Millet’s chapter on authority, in my opinion, were pages 172-174. Millet mentions the following things:
- Roger Williams, the man who left the Puritans and founded Providence, Rhode Island, concluded that no one was qualified to administer the sacraments, and that this will be the case until Christ sends new apostles.
- Charles Wesley challenged his brother, John, after John ordained a person to a church office, asking who gave John Wesley the authority to do this.
- The Mormons believe that, at some point in history, the Christian church apostasized, and there was a loss of a legitimate priesthood. My understanding, from reading this book, is that they think that Joseph Smith reinstituted the priesthood, under divine authority. Mormon leaders have made clear, however, that, between the time of the apostasy and Joseph Smith, God was still active in the world. Light, virtue, and Christ could still be found in the hearts of some people. The Holy Spirit still went to people who were seeking God. God still answered prayers. In medieval times, LDS President John Taylor said, there were people who “could commune with God, and who, by the power of faith, could draw aside the curtain of eternity and gaze upon the invisible world…, have the ministering of angels, and unfold the future destinies of the world” (Taylor’s words).
- Millet quotes Joseph Smith as saying: “I will illustrate it [the situation in the Christian world in regard to divine authority] by an old apple tree. Here jumps off the branch and says, I am the true tree, and you are corrupt. If the whole tree is corrupt, are not its branches corrupt? If the Catholic religion is a false religion, how can any true religion come out of it?” (The words in the brackets are those of Millet.) Millet is quoting Smith in responding to a Protestant argument he has heard that says that Mormons are not true Christians because they “cannot trace [their lineage] back through the Reformation, through Catholic Christianity, to the first-century church” (Millet’s words, in summarizing the argument). Millet retorts that Protestants cannot do that either, for their movement began by breaking from the Roman Catholic church. Millet asks what gave Martin Luther the authority to denounce “the need for a priestly hierarchy and thus apostolic succession back to Peter…”
- On a similar note, Millet quotes a story by Orson Whitney, an LDS apostle. Whitney quoted a Catholic who told him: “You Mormons are all ignoramouses. You don’t even know the strength of your own position. It is so strong that there is only one other tenable in the whole Christian world, and that is the position of the Catholic Church. The issue is between Catholicism and Mormonism. If we are right, you are wrong; if you are right, we are wrong, and that’s all there is to it. The Protestants haven’t a leg to stand on. For, if we are wrong, they are wrong with us, since they were a part of us and went out from us; while if we are right they are apostates whom we cut off long ago. If we have the apostolic succession from St. Peter, as we claim, there is no need of Joseph Smith and Mormonism, but if we have not the succession, then such a man as Joseph Smith was necessary, and Mormonism’s attitude is the only consistent one. It is either the perpetuation of the gospel from ancient times, or the restoration of the gospel in the latter days.”
Of what religious discussions did Millet’s chapter remind me? Well, I recall a discussion in which a person was speculating that perhaps the Holy Spirit was not available to people in this day and age. I have my doubts that he believed this dogmatically, for he later indicated to me that he thought that he had the Holy Spirit. But he was speculating about whether the Holy Spirit was even available to people today. His argument was that, in the Book of Acts, people often receive the Holy Spirit when an apostle, or someone appointed directly by God, laid hands on them. In Acts 8, two apostles make a special trip to lay hands on people who have recently believed in Jesus, so that these people might receive the Holy Spirit; these people did not have the Holy Spirit until those apostles arrived and laid hands on them. Ananias later laid hands on Saul, in Acts 9, and Ananias was not an official apostle, but God directly called Ananias for this task. But, my friend was saying, there are no apostles or people directly commissioned by God today. Can people receive the Holy Spirit, if there are no apostles or people directly commissioned by God laying hands on them?
I had problems with how this argument was saying that a big chunk of the Bible—-the parts about the Holy Spirit being inside of believers—-was essentially irrelevant today. But, a few days ago, I read in this book about Mormon-Evangelical dialogue that others in Christian history have thought that parts of the Bible are irrelevant because they believe that certain institutions of authority are not present today: Roger Williams went to the extreme of believing that no one is qualified to administer the sacraments, until God sends new apostles.
The Catholic Church could perhaps respond to my friend by saying that there is an institution of divine authority these days that can lay hands on people and enable them to receive the Holy Spirit: the Catholic Church, which God established, and whose authority goes back to the time of the apostles (see here for what the Catholic Catechism says about the laying on of hands and confirmation). My friend would not buy that, though, because he believes that the Catholic Church was a degeneration or an apostasy from the pure, pristine Christianity of the twelve apostles. So where is the divine authority these days? If there is not an institution that God officially and explicitly sanctions, does that mean that people cannot receive the Holy Spirit? I have another question: on what basis do Protestants believe that God recognizes their churches? Because these churches believe in the Bible, or because Jesus said that he is in the midst of two or more who gather in his name (Matthew 18:16)?
My other question would be this: Is it necessarily the case in the New Testament that one could only receive the Holy Spirit after an apostle or someone sent by God laid hands on him or her? I think of Luke 11:13: “ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?” (KJV). Do we need someone to lay hands on us to receive the Holy Spirit, or do we just need to ask God for the Holy Spirit, and God will give the Spirit to us? Maybe the answer is the latter. On the other hand, the laying on of hands is not exactly a marginal idea within the New Testament. Hebrews 6:2 lists it as a foundational doctrine.
I will close by saying that, in the end, I believe that God is accessible to anyone who is open to him. I think of those Mormon statements that, even before Joseph Smith renewed the church, God was still a presence in people’s life. I believe that, whether or not there is an official church institution that God recognizes in this day and age.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Book Write-Up: Talking Doctrine----Mormons & Evangelicals in Conversation
Richard J. Mouw and Robert L. Millet, ed. Talking Doctrine: Mormons & Evangelicals in Conversation. Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015. See here to buy the book.
Mormonism and evangelicalism have not always had a positive relationship, to put it mildly. Many evangelicals have regarded Mormonism as strange, and there are evangelical anti-cult books that depict Mormonism as heretical and unfaithful to orthodox Christianity. I think of the popular anti-Mormon documentary, The Godmakers, in which there is a cartoon about Mormonism’s alleged history and beliefs, and a narrator with a thick gravelly voice talks about “the Mormon Jesus.” The Mormons with whom I have interacted, on the other hand, insist that they are real Christians, with many of the same beliefs that evangelicals have. During Mitt Romney’s Presidential runs, questions were in the public’s minds about Mormonism, as many people viewed Mormonism as enigmatic and mysterious. What about the existence of polygamy within Mormonism’s history? Was Mormonism historically racist? What about that special underwear that some Mormons supposedly wear? Does Mormonism believe that Jesus and Satan are brothers?
Talking Doctrine: Mormons & Evangelicals in Conversation features contributions by evangelical and Mormon scholars about dialogue and doctrine. The doctrinal topics include the nature of God, as Mormons have an unconventional view of the Trinity and regard God the Father as corporeal; the question of the extent to which believers can become like God (deification), and what that means; the possibility of prophecy after the time of the Bible (since Mormonism regards Joseph Smith as a prophet) and extra-biblical revelation; the question of whether Mormons believe that salvation is by grace through faith alone, or rather believe that good works, on some level, can earn one salvation; and the nature of religious authority, and where evangelicals derive it. One chapter of the book discusses the common political ground that Mormonism and evangelicalism have found on social and cultural issues.
The early part of the book had the obligatory things that I usually read in books about inter-religious dialogue: the importance of respecting others and not caricaturing their position; the value of noting similarities and also differences; and a statement about how highlighting differences can influence each side to look at their own positions with a fresh look, noting possible deficiencies or areas of misunderstanding. What made these discussions endearing to me were the stories about Mormons and evangelicals in conversation. I think of a reference to a Mormon professor, who was ironic and honest about the eccentricities in Mormonism’s history.
What surprised me somewhat was the wiggle-room that some of the evangelical contributors were willing to grant to Mormonism, regarding the question of whether Mormon beliefs are acceptable or objectionable. One evangelical contributor questioned whether the Mormon belief that God the Father was corporeal is really that objectionable, since Christians hold that Jesus, as God, was a corporeal human being. Another evangelical contributor referred to a discussion that she had with a Mormon about whether God the Father ever sinned. The Mormon was saying that he could have, but that Jesus’ sacrifice would have atoned for it. The evangelical contributor said that this was when it dawned on her that this Mormon really loved Jesus, just like she does. I was surprised that she did not regard his view as offensive, as a number of evangelicals probably would. A number of the evangelical contributors did not seem to regard Mormon beliefs about God as necessarily objectionable, or as something that places Mormons outside of the pale of Christianity. If there was an area that the evangelicals deemed to be non-negotiable, it would probably be that salvation is by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, that this is the belief that makes one a Christian. There were evangelicals and Mormons who insisted that Mormons accepted this, and some evangelicals said that Mormon emphasis on good works can serve as a counter-balance to the tendency of some evangelicals to dismiss the necessity of a holy life.
I think that some of the chapters should have been arranged differently. A chapter by evangelical Craig Blomberg was interacting with Mormon beliefs about God and gods, and a later chapter by a Mormon was lucidly explaining what those beliefs are. The latter chapter, in my opinion, should have come before Blomberg’s chapter, to provide readers with the background information to understand what Blomberg is talking about.
My favorite chapter in the book was by Sarah Taylor, who talks about her experiences as an evangelical attending Brigham Young University. If there was a chapter that I would like to unpack some more, it would be Brigham Young professor emeritus Robert Millet’s “Authority Is Everything.” This chapter is about whether the Protestant Reformers were really justified to break away from the Roman Catholic Church, and the point seems to be that such a break would only be justified if God officially and explicitly sanctioned it, which, according to Mormonism, occurred when God called Joseph Smith. In the course of this discussion, Millet referred to Roger Williams’ belief that no one is qualified to administer the sacraments until there are new apostles. I hope that I have represented Millet’s discussion accurately; it stood out to me on account of religious discussions that I have had with people.
Ordinarily, Mormonism is not an interest of mine, but I did find this book to be informative and interesting.
The publisher sent me a complimentary review copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.
Mormonism and evangelicalism have not always had a positive relationship, to put it mildly. Many evangelicals have regarded Mormonism as strange, and there are evangelical anti-cult books that depict Mormonism as heretical and unfaithful to orthodox Christianity. I think of the popular anti-Mormon documentary, The Godmakers, in which there is a cartoon about Mormonism’s alleged history and beliefs, and a narrator with a thick gravelly voice talks about “the Mormon Jesus.” The Mormons with whom I have interacted, on the other hand, insist that they are real Christians, with many of the same beliefs that evangelicals have. During Mitt Romney’s Presidential runs, questions were in the public’s minds about Mormonism, as many people viewed Mormonism as enigmatic and mysterious. What about the existence of polygamy within Mormonism’s history? Was Mormonism historically racist? What about that special underwear that some Mormons supposedly wear? Does Mormonism believe that Jesus and Satan are brothers?
Talking Doctrine: Mormons & Evangelicals in Conversation features contributions by evangelical and Mormon scholars about dialogue and doctrine. The doctrinal topics include the nature of God, as Mormons have an unconventional view of the Trinity and regard God the Father as corporeal; the question of the extent to which believers can become like God (deification), and what that means; the possibility of prophecy after the time of the Bible (since Mormonism regards Joseph Smith as a prophet) and extra-biblical revelation; the question of whether Mormons believe that salvation is by grace through faith alone, or rather believe that good works, on some level, can earn one salvation; and the nature of religious authority, and where evangelicals derive it. One chapter of the book discusses the common political ground that Mormonism and evangelicalism have found on social and cultural issues.
The early part of the book had the obligatory things that I usually read in books about inter-religious dialogue: the importance of respecting others and not caricaturing their position; the value of noting similarities and also differences; and a statement about how highlighting differences can influence each side to look at their own positions with a fresh look, noting possible deficiencies or areas of misunderstanding. What made these discussions endearing to me were the stories about Mormons and evangelicals in conversation. I think of a reference to a Mormon professor, who was ironic and honest about the eccentricities in Mormonism’s history.
What surprised me somewhat was the wiggle-room that some of the evangelical contributors were willing to grant to Mormonism, regarding the question of whether Mormon beliefs are acceptable or objectionable. One evangelical contributor questioned whether the Mormon belief that God the Father was corporeal is really that objectionable, since Christians hold that Jesus, as God, was a corporeal human being. Another evangelical contributor referred to a discussion that she had with a Mormon about whether God the Father ever sinned. The Mormon was saying that he could have, but that Jesus’ sacrifice would have atoned for it. The evangelical contributor said that this was when it dawned on her that this Mormon really loved Jesus, just like she does. I was surprised that she did not regard his view as offensive, as a number of evangelicals probably would. A number of the evangelical contributors did not seem to regard Mormon beliefs about God as necessarily objectionable, or as something that places Mormons outside of the pale of Christianity. If there was an area that the evangelicals deemed to be non-negotiable, it would probably be that salvation is by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, that this is the belief that makes one a Christian. There were evangelicals and Mormons who insisted that Mormons accepted this, and some evangelicals said that Mormon emphasis on good works can serve as a counter-balance to the tendency of some evangelicals to dismiss the necessity of a holy life.
I think that some of the chapters should have been arranged differently. A chapter by evangelical Craig Blomberg was interacting with Mormon beliefs about God and gods, and a later chapter by a Mormon was lucidly explaining what those beliefs are. The latter chapter, in my opinion, should have come before Blomberg’s chapter, to provide readers with the background information to understand what Blomberg is talking about.
My favorite chapter in the book was by Sarah Taylor, who talks about her experiences as an evangelical attending Brigham Young University. If there was a chapter that I would like to unpack some more, it would be Brigham Young professor emeritus Robert Millet’s “Authority Is Everything.” This chapter is about whether the Protestant Reformers were really justified to break away from the Roman Catholic Church, and the point seems to be that such a break would only be justified if God officially and explicitly sanctioned it, which, according to Mormonism, occurred when God called Joseph Smith. In the course of this discussion, Millet referred to Roger Williams’ belief that no one is qualified to administer the sacraments until there are new apostles. I hope that I have represented Millet’s discussion accurately; it stood out to me on account of religious discussions that I have had with people.
Ordinarily, Mormonism is not an interest of mine, but I did find this book to be informative and interesting.
The publisher sent me a complimentary review copy of this book, in exchange for an honest review.
Monday, August 3, 2015
Book Write-Up: Parables of the Deer, by Carl Schmuland
Carl Schmuland. Parables of the Deer: A Journey Towards Christian Maturity. Apopka: New Book Publishing (a division of Reliance Media), 2012. See here to buy the book.
In Parables of the Deer, Carl Schmuland shares photographs of deer that he has taken and ties them with a theological point. He has 124 reflections, and each reflection is two pages. Schmuland writes from a Protestant Reformed perspective. That means that he believes that God chose who would be saved before the foundation of the world, that Christ died to pay the penalty of sin for the chosen ones, and that God unilaterally changes the hearts of the chosen so that they believe in Christ and live a holy life.
The book covered a variety of topics. Some of the discussions were fairer than others. The discussions about the Lord’s supper (i.e., transubstantiation and consubstantiation) and baptism (i.e., infant vs. believers’ baptism) were fair and helpful, according to my understanding of the different views about these issues. Schmuland tended to portray Arminians and Catholics as thinking that one can believe in God by free will, as if (in their minds) God’s grace were not part of the equation in enabling a person to believe, and I did not find that characterization to be particularly fair. To quote section 154 of the Catholic Catechism, “Believing is possible only by grace and the interior helps of the Holy Spirit.” On occasion, at least when it came to Arminianism, Schmuland gave some indications that he knew better. His discussion on evolution asked good questions, yet Schmuland said that, just because humans and chimpanzees share 98 percent of their DNA, that does not mean that humans evolved from chimpanzees. But evolutionists do not claim that humans evolved from chimpanzees, but rather that humans and chimpanzees share a common ancestor. At times, Schmuland dismissed scientists who do not believe in a creator as rebellious sinners who do not want to believe in God, and that approach, in my opinion, is not as impressive as actually trying to engage their arguments.
There were aspects of the book that lightened it up. The deer pictures and stories were endearing, as was Schmuland’s honesty about his spiritual journey. Schmuland says that he himself used to be skeptical about the Bible. That humanized him more.
The book can serve as a helpful resource on differences within Christianity and philosophy; I particularly liked Schmuland’s discussion of Kant, who dismissed the cosmological and teleological arguments for the existence of God, yet said that God’s existence does provide a necessary justice to the universe. If anything, Schmuland’s book does encourage me to read more: to learn more about the evidence for evolution and how Arminians interpret the biblical passages that Calvinists cite in favor of Calvinism. The book can also be a good devotional: its chapters are only two pages, and they are both deep and lighthearted. While I personally have difficulty finding the God of Calvinism to be all that loving or attractive, there is a certain order, rhyme, and reason to Calvinism that do intrigue me.
I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher through Bookcrash, in exchange for an honest review.
In Parables of the Deer, Carl Schmuland shares photographs of deer that he has taken and ties them with a theological point. He has 124 reflections, and each reflection is two pages. Schmuland writes from a Protestant Reformed perspective. That means that he believes that God chose who would be saved before the foundation of the world, that Christ died to pay the penalty of sin for the chosen ones, and that God unilaterally changes the hearts of the chosen so that they believe in Christ and live a holy life.
The book covered a variety of topics. Some of the discussions were fairer than others. The discussions about the Lord’s supper (i.e., transubstantiation and consubstantiation) and baptism (i.e., infant vs. believers’ baptism) were fair and helpful, according to my understanding of the different views about these issues. Schmuland tended to portray Arminians and Catholics as thinking that one can believe in God by free will, as if (in their minds) God’s grace were not part of the equation in enabling a person to believe, and I did not find that characterization to be particularly fair. To quote section 154 of the Catholic Catechism, “Believing is possible only by grace and the interior helps of the Holy Spirit.” On occasion, at least when it came to Arminianism, Schmuland gave some indications that he knew better. His discussion on evolution asked good questions, yet Schmuland said that, just because humans and chimpanzees share 98 percent of their DNA, that does not mean that humans evolved from chimpanzees. But evolutionists do not claim that humans evolved from chimpanzees, but rather that humans and chimpanzees share a common ancestor. At times, Schmuland dismissed scientists who do not believe in a creator as rebellious sinners who do not want to believe in God, and that approach, in my opinion, is not as impressive as actually trying to engage their arguments.
There were aspects of the book that lightened it up. The deer pictures and stories were endearing, as was Schmuland’s honesty about his spiritual journey. Schmuland says that he himself used to be skeptical about the Bible. That humanized him more.
The book can serve as a helpful resource on differences within Christianity and philosophy; I particularly liked Schmuland’s discussion of Kant, who dismissed the cosmological and teleological arguments for the existence of God, yet said that God’s existence does provide a necessary justice to the universe. If anything, Schmuland’s book does encourage me to read more: to learn more about the evidence for evolution and how Arminians interpret the biblical passages that Calvinists cite in favor of Calvinism. The book can also be a good devotional: its chapters are only two pages, and they are both deep and lighthearted. While I personally have difficulty finding the God of Calvinism to be all that loving or attractive, there is a certain order, rhyme, and reason to Calvinism that do intrigue me.
I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher through Bookcrash, in exchange for an honest review.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Molding Bad Feelings Into Something Productive
At church this morning, someone from the congregation spoke to us
about Jesus’ multiplication of the loaves and the fishes in Matthew
14:13-21. He noted that the story opens with: “Now when Jesus heard
this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself”
(ESV). Crowds then followed Jesus to where he was, and Jesus had
compassion for them, healed their sick, and later multiplied the loaves
and fishes to feed them.
But the preacher this morning asked a question: What did Jesus hear that caused him to withdraw? The answer is that Jesus heard about the death of John the Baptist. Jesus withdrew because he was sad and wanted to be alone, or perhaps because he thought that Herod Antipas would try to kill him next. The preacher’s point was that, notwithstanding Jesus’ pain, sadness, or troubles, Jesus still took the time to be compassionate towards others and to minister to their needs.
Some of the songs in this morning’s service were along the same lines. We heard one song, “Below My Feet,” which is by Mumford and Sons. I had to read the lyrics a couple of times to understand them, but my impression was that they were talking about Jesus reassuring us, strengthening us, and helping us to serve and to learn. We sang “You Are My Vision,” and it had a line about God being our vision, whatever befalls us. We may be burned out and wounded, but we can still find comfort in God and be compassionate towards others.
I was reminded of a post that I read recently, Sarahbeth Caplin’s “Bitterness: The New Religion B-Word.” The last paragraph said something that especially resonated with me:
“These suggestions aside, I still have unhealthy bitterness in my heart. I pray not to get rid of it, necessarily, but to mold it into something productive. Some of history’s most successful revolutions grew from bitter unrest about the way things are.”
I was wondering if this could apply to my bitterness. Can God mold that into something productive? I can see bitterness about social injustice leading to social change, which is something productive, but what about my bitterness about feeling or being rejected, or loneliness? I believe that God can turn that into something productive, as well: compassion for others. I can feel compassion towards those who are rejected or lonely. Of course, the opposite can occur, too: I can become so absorbed in my own feelings, problems, and pain that I do not think of others. But that is why I need to ask God to mold my bitterness into something productive.
One may point me to biblical passages like Ephesians 4:31, which is critical of bitterness. Does that contradict any idea that God can mold bitterness into something productive? Well, such passages do express a desire for peace among people in the body of Christ. Inner peace is also a desirable goal, plus we should take heed lest we dehumanize others by hating them. I especially need God’s help on that last one! Still, I do believe that God can mold a person’s bitterness into something productive.
UPDATE: Samuel Tee has important reflections about suffering and whether that builds character. See here.
But the preacher this morning asked a question: What did Jesus hear that caused him to withdraw? The answer is that Jesus heard about the death of John the Baptist. Jesus withdrew because he was sad and wanted to be alone, or perhaps because he thought that Herod Antipas would try to kill him next. The preacher’s point was that, notwithstanding Jesus’ pain, sadness, or troubles, Jesus still took the time to be compassionate towards others and to minister to their needs.
Some of the songs in this morning’s service were along the same lines. We heard one song, “Below My Feet,” which is by Mumford and Sons. I had to read the lyrics a couple of times to understand them, but my impression was that they were talking about Jesus reassuring us, strengthening us, and helping us to serve and to learn. We sang “You Are My Vision,” and it had a line about God being our vision, whatever befalls us. We may be burned out and wounded, but we can still find comfort in God and be compassionate towards others.
I was reminded of a post that I read recently, Sarahbeth Caplin’s “Bitterness: The New Religion B-Word.” The last paragraph said something that especially resonated with me:
“These suggestions aside, I still have unhealthy bitterness in my heart. I pray not to get rid of it, necessarily, but to mold it into something productive. Some of history’s most successful revolutions grew from bitter unrest about the way things are.”
I was wondering if this could apply to my bitterness. Can God mold that into something productive? I can see bitterness about social injustice leading to social change, which is something productive, but what about my bitterness about feeling or being rejected, or loneliness? I believe that God can turn that into something productive, as well: compassion for others. I can feel compassion towards those who are rejected or lonely. Of course, the opposite can occur, too: I can become so absorbed in my own feelings, problems, and pain that I do not think of others. But that is why I need to ask God to mold my bitterness into something productive.
One may point me to biblical passages like Ephesians 4:31, which is critical of bitterness. Does that contradict any idea that God can mold bitterness into something productive? Well, such passages do express a desire for peace among people in the body of Christ. Inner peace is also a desirable goal, plus we should take heed lest we dehumanize others by hating them. I especially need God’s help on that last one! Still, I do believe that God can mold a person’s bitterness into something productive.
UPDATE: Samuel Tee has important reflections about suffering and whether that builds character. See here.
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