A balanced look at "balance"

by Dan Phillips

Might as well warn you at the outset, this post on "balance" may make for frustrating reading...on-balance. [Pause, for laughter to die down. Two...and one...and...] On the one hand, I'm going to lament the whole thing; on the other, there's no way around grappling with it.

There's a kind of "balance" that is to be heartily despised. This is the "balance" desperately yearned for by the precious and the dainty elitocrats of blogdom and elsewhere. These tender souls ever have an eye to their (and their readers'!) psychic blood pressure. Nothing is to be allowed to elevate it — well, nothing that our culture doesn't also despise. Certainly not false teaching, not heresy, not compromise, not shameful excrescences that obscure the Cross or the word thereof.

So one must be nuanced and careful and all that, and not say anything too forceful or direct or (Heaven forfend!) cornering about implications of the inerrancy and a real-live, robust embrace of the sufficiency of Scripture and completion of the Canon. One mustn't make too much of the implications of a plain-sense reading of Genesis 1—3, or of rejecting same. One mustn't put the same expectations of a pastor of 10,000 that one would of a pastor of 100. Big church = special relaxed-rate rules.

To be sure, one must be "balanced."

That sort of anxiety about "balance" is, I say, execrable and to be avoided at all costs by folks to whom Galatians 1:10 and 6:14 mean anything much.

But on the other hand, there are balances in life that are just unavoidable, aren't there? They're balances that come not from trying to avoid the imperatives and implications of Scripture (see above), but from trying to implement them.

For instance: as a pastor who tries to care about Scripture, the imperatives of Titus 1:9 (which I tried to develop at some length) necessarily weigh on me. God holds me accountable both "to exhort by healthy doctrine, and to reprove those who contradict." Not either. Both, with the assumed overarching context.

So if all I do is weave the generalities and billowy grandeurs of "sound doctrine" in such a way as to exalt the emotions but have no bearing on real life, I've failed. That is, if all I do is wax eloquent on the concepts of God's immensity, His aseity, His immutability; of the theory of the authority and inerrancy of Scripture; of the idea of the church as an ideal — and if I never "put shoe leather" on any of those concepts, I've failed. I must exhort by healthy doctrine, which renders a Greek word that always has the nuance of urging to action of some sort, whether intellectual or physical action.

Shorter: if my indicative never bears an imperative, I've failed. If my hearers seldom leave a sermon with a "therefore" weighing heavily on them, I've failed. If no urgency reaches from pulpit to pew, I've failed. If there is never a specificity to my preaching, such as makes spouses and friends and churchgoers and the like shift uncomfortably, and such as sends them to God in prayer and to their Bibles in study and to their day-planners in changes of daily agenda — I've failed.

But not all welcome this necessary attempt to discharge my charge. For my part, there is a danger in trying to be too specific; for my hearers' part, there could be the temptation to resent any specificity. Many would gladly sit through any sermon whose charges sail safely overhead; hence the appeal, for many, of the megachurch. It's so easy to hide in a crowd.

This is also the matrix of the line, "Okay, now you've stopped preaching and started meddling."

And the trouble is, there is such a thing as meddling — being too specific in application, ceasing to make valid applications of Scripture and starting instead to chase down hobby-horses.

For instance, I don't enjoy it when I notice a gum-chewer. There, I've confessed it. It's a bovine sort of action that's distracting to me.

But that's it: I don't love it. So? So nothing! That's it. It's a personal preference, and that's all it is. It wouldn't be fair for me to rail on the "evils" of gum-chewing in church in the name of making specific application. That would be silly, petulant, and peevish. If folks want to chew gum, the God's honest truth of it is that I'm just glad they're there to hear the Word, chewing and all. I deal. Plus my short-sightedness helps. (For that reason, I have no idea whether anyone in the church I serve chews gum during the service.)

But are there other things that might be worth a mention in a sermon now and again, behaviors not specifically targeted by any verse? Such as chronic and intentional lateness? Does one veer far away from such specificities? If the goal is urging folks to maturity and service (Heb. 5:11-14), even to the point or provocation (Heb. 10:24), are such matters worth a mention or two now and again?

Stepping back, then, the Scylla here is gauzy generality that never hits home, and the Charybdis is petulant fault-finding that never seems content or happy.

Balance. Sigh.

Then there's the other imperative Paul mentioned in Titus 1:9, "to reprove those who contradict." If I never deal with error in preaching, specifically and clearly, I am failing. If I never warn against, expose, and rebuke false teaching, I am failing. So on the one hand and very clearly, anyone who tries for an exclusively positive ministry is being unfaithful to the pastoral "call."

But on the other, if all one ever does is rant and rail and warn and moan about False Teachers, if in effect They loom larger in the pulpit than the cross and the Gospel and the grace of God — and the blessed persons of the Trinity — then one has equally erred. A ministry of denunciation is no less unbalanced than a ministry of marshmallow evanjellybeanicalism. Both fail God and God's people.

Yet there are hearers, once again, who would object to any attempt to do either. Focus on the positive, and you're not talking about the menace of ____ enough. Occasionally warn against the menace of ____, and you're harping on a hobby-horse. It's a constant weight to any pastor.

Now maybe some of you dear folks have been reading patiently, but thinking, "Yeah, poor pastors; good thing that's not a problem for me!"

Isn't it? If you're a parent, I doubt you've been thinking that. Well, first-time expecting parents might. You may have read this or that book on parenting, and it all may look very simple to you. ABC, 123, and wham! godly child! You know exactly what you're going to do when your three-month-old gets older.

Yeah, right; good luck with that! Because the reality is that parenting is a constant battle of balance. You don't think so? Well, then: what Bible verse tells you how much "play time" is enough at any given age? How about video games?

What about music lessons and Scouting or Awanas? Your kid resists, drags his feet, doesn't want to do it. What do you do? Do you insist? Do you force? How long? Until they're 12? Until they're gone?

Because, unless you've been living under a rock, you know how this works. If you are any kind of disciplinarian, if you lean on your child to accomplish anything that he doesn't come out of the chute wanting to do, you're running a risk. When he leaves home, if he loves God, he'll look back and praise you to the heavens. He'll say, "My mom was constantly on me to do X, and I hated her for it at the time... but now I love her for it, and I am so glad that she made me!"

But if he rebels against God, that same child will say about that same parent, "All my life Mom forced me to do X and Y and Z, and I hated every minute of it, but I pretended to go along because that was the only way to have peace at home; and then, boy, as soon as I was able, I ran away as fast as I could!"

Same parent, same choices, different "reviews."

But even childish rebellion aside, what is the proper "balance"? How much do you prod and force and require; and how much do you stand back and allow and watch horrid consequences gather over your dear cherub's head? Because you know if it works out well, everyone will praise your child and nod at you with a smile.

But if it turns out horridly... everyone will "know" you were a horrid parent.

Like with pastors.

And if you're a pastor and a parent?

Oy!

"Balance."

Sigh.

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Open letter to Dr. James White (3 of 3)

by Frank Turk

Dear James;

All right -- let's get to this. So about 3 weeks ago we had this brief exchange on Twitter:

And to that point, you and I both know I do not hate apologists or apologetics. But here's the thing: there is nothing worse that bad apologetics, except maybe strident, careless, glib, misguided, overconfident, under-informed, or worst of all self-righteous so-called "apologists".

We reviewed some examples last week of this, right? The anti-calvinists, and the post-theological/post-biblical philosophers? It's easy to point at them and to voice our concerns because let's face it: they are not like us. They will be pleased to say so, in fact: they are nothing like us. That makes the enumeration of their differences -- many of which are their flaws -- not only easy but beneficial. We are not like Ergun Caner, for example. We are not like Dave Hunt. Thank God we are not like Dave Armstrong. Listing the ways we are not like them frankly is a kind of apologetic in and of itself, and it can be educational for the apologetic n00b or the "normal" christian to see the differences and realize that just because someone has a radio show, published a book, or professional alphabet soup after their name, what they put out isn't necessarily good spiritual food.

But what happens, James, when there's someone in our own camp who is off the ranch? And in this case, I don't mean rank doctrinal heterodoxy. How could they be "Reformed" after all and be heterodox? I'm talking about people who are heartless, unappeasable, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not loving good, treacherous, reckless, swollen with conceit, having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. You know: that list strikes pretty close to home in our camp. We get accused of it often because there are many like that in our camp, and I grant the critics that it can be hard to see the difference between careful rebuke and reckless and brutal drive-bys when all one has witnessed is the latter rather than former because the former is really so rare.

In my view, we should take the warning of James the brother of Jesus seriously: Not many of us should become teachers, for we know that those who teach will be judged with greater strictness. Apologetics is a teaching ministry, part of the office of being an elder. And while one does not have to be an elder to be an apologist, one ought to be able to own the pastoral duties of apologetics to do give a proper defense of the faith.

This is simply not the way it works today, is it? Prior to the internet, it didn't work this way, but it was limited by resource availability. Now with the internet, the proliferation of self-appointed theological sentries looks like a toll road where every household has a booth to collect its own duty. It is now far less likely to find people who think that to defend and contend for the sake of Christ, and therefore for the sake of His people, one needs to be in and among His people -- it is in fact a badge of honor to be churchless. The idea that there is spiritual authority apart from the words one can self-publish is categorically lacking in the so-called apologetics blogosphere; the idea that we can be both humble and certain, have both Truth and Love, both gentleness and reverence, both Scripture and reason, all heart, mind and soul, and above all having both freedom and responsibility when we are militant for truth and the right faith of others cannot be found.

This is a kind of crisis among us, and I think there's something you have taught me over the years which underscores the crisis: what we win people with, you have said, is what we win them to. We can see this clearly in those who are not like us: the real pelagians and semi-pelagians beget social gospel followers either on the left or the right; the softie arminians beget invitation junkies, and the hard arminians beget anti-intellectual zen Christians who think programs are the thing -- opportunities mean more than actual discipleship.

But what about the ones who are on our team about whom the discerning LOLCat would say, "U R DOIN IT RONG"? What do they beget?

This is where the rubber hits the road for us, I think, because in one sense, we would be right to say, "I am not responsible for what someone else teaches." And we're not. We're not responsible for what some quack with a blog teaches even if he says he's on our team, right? I can't control another person. I'm not his elder in his church. I can't be responsible, I might say, for someone who says he's reformed or orthodox or fundamentalist or "biblical" when he's wrong.

You can hear where I'm going now, I am sure.

If this is true, James, then I think we have to re-evaluate what we think we are doing in the playing field of apologetics. I realized this when I wrote my open letter to Mike Horton -- his response to the question of malfeasance in our own camp was, frankly, "well, that's out of my control." But if we applied that view to all the other issues we address, what exactly would we have left to do all day? Doesn't judgment start in the house of the Lord?

Now, I get it: we have to pick our battles, and neither of us would say anything less than, "the Church is very sick, and doctrine and Biblical wisdom is at bay. There is much to do and no ministry can do it all." There is plenty to do just to get anyone to the minimum of faith literacy who has grown up as a cultural Christian in this post-Christian society. There is plenty of work to do with Mormonism, agnosticism, academic skepticism, JWs, and most importantly about Islam from a Gospel and Christian perspective that one's day fills up pretty fast.

But it seems to me that if we have the time to refute anti-Calvinism -- which is usually a kind of commitment to ignorance -- we can find the time to refute heterodox behavior -- which is usually just a commitment to being awful.

In the end, these letters I have written to you are not about indicting you for anything because I think there's nothing to indict you for. We agree on so much, and I am proud to call you a father in the faith and a brother and fellow (if senior) workman in God's field. But this is a call to consider the state of Christian apologetics inside our own camp. Is there really nothing to be done to remedy the rampant unchristian approach so many take to Christian apologetics?

You have a great mind, and a deep pastoral heart, with which to consider the question, and I leave it to you. May God richly bless you.

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Filthy Calvinists, and the people who love to hate them

by Frank Turk

Before the real antics begin today, our friends at Triablogue have digitally-published a book called The Infidel Delusion to respond to John Loftus' cadre of sad-faced clowns' most recent book, the Christian Delusion -- because it's the Christians, you see, who slavishly follow the thoughts and edicts of their mentors and heroes.

Anyway, Peter Pike's announcement for the book is worth the read as well, and there you can download the PDF for your reading pleasure. Bring a Lunch.

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The best way to ensure, by the providence of God, that I will have a full week at work is to promise to post something controversial which will require significant moderation and a lot of time disambiguating people regarding their own bum preconceptions.



So on Monday, I promised to write a blog post where hating on Calvinism would be on-topic. And here we are.

Back in February 2009, Challies made a post called A Portrayal of Calvinism in which he was reviewing two different books entitled Finding God in The Shack (ugh -- and he survived) where the authors of these books were taking pot-shots at Calvinism.



Before we get to the meat there, I just want to point something out: the real barking dogs of horrible theologically who want to still call themselves Christians always always always find it necessary to beat down on Calvinism in order to say, "see how much better my system of thinking about the Bible and Jesus and God and people is?" Why is that I wonder? Why is Calvinism the whipping boy for people who want to find God in the Shack, and the people who want to say God doesn't know the future, and the people who want to say all roads lead to the same God Almighty, and the ecumenicists, and the social gospelists, and so on?

Why is it that all these people hate Calvinism -- if it's such an obvious falsehood?

That's a thought to ponder if you want to fire up your vitriol in the comments -- in fact I insist: why do all the nut-jobs hate Calvinism most of all rather than, for example, the idea that God is the Eucharist, or that your soul will suffer in purgatory for your sin before you get to spend eternity with God and the Virgin Mary? Why is Calvinism the one they know they have to overcome?

OK -- back to Challies. In what may be the most strongly-worded statement Tim has ever made publicly, he had this to say about the way these books treated Calvinism:

My reaction when reading all of this was, if not anger, real frustration. I hate to think that thousands of people will read such an inaccurate, uninformed, fictitious view of Calvinism (and this by an author who has some credibility by virtue of his position as a Professor of Theology). Even where Rauser is correct, his words often lack the charitable nuance we might well hope for. But in so many ways he is really, really wrong. Not surprisingly, he does not quote any sources; I know of none that would support his statements.

You know: Challies was almost angry. That's saying a lot.



But people hate calvinists, right? I mean, let's do some benchmarking here. I dropped this into Google, and look at the results I got:

About 557,000 sites which are decidedly not Arminian, yes? But when we put the competition into Google, check it out:

Wow! Like DOUBLE the number of sites! Seriously -- if the problem is that there's quite a lot of venom going around, check the internet, because clearly someone out there is wrong.

So what's your beef? You hate Calvinism? Really? Let's hear your beef - in comments which are neither vulgar nor insulting, si vous plait - with only one limiting factor: one comment of complaint per customer, limited by Blogger's new-found character limit of about 4,000 characters.

Have at it. You loyal Calvinists need to buck up for this because it's going to be instructive one way or the other. Stay away from brawling and responding to taunts. You have heard this all before, and all I'm asking is that you spend you time today thinking about why people will be glad to dump on Calvinists in the first place.

I'll moderate at will. Enjoy.

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Spiritual Equilibrium

by Phil Johnson

I Walk the Line

A Balanced Plea for Balance

(First posted 3 January 2007)

cripture says, "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1). There's an equilibrium to be maintained in true spirituality, and it's only our sinfulness that makes us become unbalanced in one direction or the other.

The obedience God demands requires our implicit compliance to all of His revealed Word, and He expressly commands us "not [to] turn aside to the right hand or to the left." (Deuteronomy 5:24). The way of truth is well worn (Jeremiah 6:16) but narrow (Matthew 7:14). There are dangerous ditches on both sides of it, and we are so prone to waywardness that we need constant checks to keep from veering off track to one side or the other (Isaiah 30:21). We sometimes have to fight to keep our balance. In the words of Hebrews 4:11, we have to labor to enter into rest.

But balance is a tricky word. Mention it in connection with truth or spirituality, and people tend to think of a board balanced on a fulcrum, like a seesaw on the playground. If you move to one side, that end goes down, and if you move to the other end, that end goes down. We all learned as children that the only way for just one person to play on a teeter-totter is to get in the middle and stand with one foot on one side and one on the other and balance the board that way.

I'm afraid too many people take that approach with the problem of discerning truth. They take a dialectical approach, where you resolve every issue by seeking the middle ground between two opposing extremes—as if you could combine an erroneous thesis and its equally erroneous antithesis and come up with a synthesis that is somehow true.

It's not particularly helpful to think in such terms. While it's true that errors often exist at opposite extremes on both sides of any given truth, you can't necessarily find the truth by starting with opposite errors and searching for the via media between them.

I'm always a bit wary of people who seek the middle of the road on every issue. Have you noticed, for example, that whenever the doctrine of election or the question of human "free will" comes up, someone will invariably declare that he (or she) holds a position that is neither Calvinist nor Arminian but is squarely in the middle of those two "extremes"? A lot of people seem to imagine that there is some safe, logically-coherent, middle-road position where divine sovereignty and human responsibility essentially cancel one another out.

Let's be honest: That claim is often employed in an effort to stop meaningful discussion rather than advance it. Many people who take that approach simply don't want to work through the difficulties posed by the tension between the gospel call and the sinner's inability, or between God's absolute sovereignty and His wrath against sin. They imagine that if they take a position in the middle of the road and cover their eyes, they can simply avoid all such problems altogether.

That's not a biblical way of thinking. Scripture (as well as true Calvinism) stresses both divine sovereignty and human responsibility. The truth is not a midway point where neither emphasis is taught at all, but a balanced doctrine where both sides of the truth are fully stressed.

The balance between Christian liberty and godly living is also like that. Don't look for a comfortable midway point between legalism and license. There is no safe "middle road" between legalism and license. In fact, legalism and license often go hand in hand and are found together, because they stem from the same wrong view of sanctification. Legalism is often a smoke screen for carnal living.

But New Testament sanctification properly stresses both liberty and love for Christ; both freedom from the law and freedom from sin; both emancipation from the bondage of our sinful flesh and slavery to righteousness as the only way to enjoy our new life in the Spirit.

Most Christian doctrines achieve balance in a similar way. Forget the midway point on a continuum, the fulcrum on a teeter-totter, and the yellow stripe in the middle of the road. When we speak of balancing these two truths, the idea is more like two oars on a rowboat. Try to paddle a typical boat with the paddle on one side only, and you will just go around in circles without making any progress. The harder you row with one oar, the faster and tighter your circles will be.

You'll never get anywhere spiritually unless you put both oars in the water.

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