Sufficient Fire conference audio and video are available

by Dan Phillips

In case you missed the announcement Friday, Copperfield Bible Church, and the volunteers who worked on the conference, have now made available the audio and video from the Sufficient Fire conference sessions, both the talks and the panels.

Click on the graphic.

Everyone who came had a wonderful time — sessions, giveaways, fellowship, worship. Maybe some will share. It was terrific meeting some of our longtime readers.

All of my brothers' talks were stellare. But Phil's opening session was particularly wonderful, and Frank's second session is one my dear wife and I plan to listen to again and again — stirring, convicting, instructive. Just wonderful.

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John Piper and Mark Driscoll: lessons not learned?

by Dan Phillips

NOTE: this week's SHST is pushed aside by a recent turn of events. To wit:

A recent "Ask Pastor John" segment is titled "Do You Regret Partnering with Mark Driscoll?" An answer to that question could have been very helpful. However, once the question is asked, the word "partnering" never recurs. Piper instead poses and answers a question of his own: "Do you regret befriending Mark Driscoll?"

I don't doubt that question was more appealing. Low-hanging fruit always is. However, it is is a question I've heard no one ask. I asked my Tweeps if anyone had heard that question asked, and no one had. (I also offered some other thoughtlets on Twitter: here, here.)

"John Piper has no regret for befriending Mark Driscoll," Piper said Bob-Dole-ically, answering the question he alone asked himself. Piper did go on to admit that he regrets not being a more effective friend. But then Piper somewhat undoes that admission, by saying that Mark knew he had flaws of leadership attitude, unsavory language, exegetical errors, and that Mark knew Piper knew. Piper says he always hoped the relationship would be redemptive and helpful. So it's really Driscoll's fault. Which, of course, ultimately is true...and, once again, was not the question.

Then, somewhat oddly, Piper stressed that Driscoll gave Piper a lot of time and counsel and "guidance." Driscoll gave guidance to Piper and his elders. "He certainly gave me more time and counsel than I deserved." Oh? What is this? Taken seriously, this rather subverts the perception that Piper was an elder brother taking Driscoll under his wing to sober, mature, guide and mentor the famously loose-cannon leaky-Canoneer. Instead, Piper depicts them as equals, giving and receiving counsel to each other.

Would that make Piper still less responsible for the direction Driscoll took? Is that the intent?

But this is all wide of the mark (no pun intended). The issue is that Piper had, as far as I know, a well-earned stellar reputation. He was regarded as a sagacious elder statesman. He lit the fires of devotion to God, delight in God, open celebration of God's sovereignty. He did and represented much that is really great and good. I myself have often admitted with enthusiasm (and do so again, here) that Piper's writings have done me great good, particularly Future Grace.

So when Piper extended his embrace to Mark Driscoll, all that gravitas and bona fides was added to Driscoll's resume. Driscoll had been "the cussing pastor" and all; now he was "John Piper's protegee," "John Piper's partner." When anyone started to express misgivings about Driscoll, he might hear the response, "But John Piper embraces him. Piper's working with him. Driscoll must be OK." Driscoll himself had that card to play, as needed.

Good men cautioned Piper privately and publicly, warned him, begged him to reconsider what he was doing. But Piper resolutely brushed them all aside and stayed the course. And so has Driscoll.

So now where are we? We are exactly where Piper's friends warned him he'd be. Driscoll has come to a sad place, yet remains defiant and undaunted, and it's Piper who has to explain their connection.

But Piper still doesn't seem to take it all that seriously.

In a way, Piper seems to ackonwlege that things are sort of bad now, though for unspecified reasons. Piper says he sees why Driscoll's books might be off of shelves temporarily. Yet he also immediately goes on to say he sees a day when they could be replaced and stand on their own merit. Which underscores something I'm going to say, below, about "echo-chamber":

Piper says Driscoll's books can stand on their own merit if they're true and helpful? Sir, they're PLAGIARIZED! They're someone else's work!
— Janet Mefferd (@JanetMefferd) November 13, 2014

Before we leave that paragraph, Piper says, "If he is disqualified from being an elder should he still exercise the teaching office of an elder through his books?" "If"? Is he, or isn't he? Driscoll himself insists that he is not disqualified. His hand-picked committee that was supposed to be counseling him insists that "we do not believe him to be disqualified from pastoral ministry." Is Piper saying differently? If so, he is not saying it very clearly.

Despite all that publicly known information, what Piper does say clearly is that he has "no regret." Hear Piper:

John Piper has no regret for befriending Mark Driscoll, going to Mark Driscoll’s church and speaking at his events, or having him come to the Desiring God conference. I do not regret that.

Instead, Piper sees himself as in a position to issue lessons that he says he has learned, and which he says we should all take from the whole affair. Having admitted no errors in judgment, and detailing nothing specific that he would do differently, he's ready to bid adieu to the whole thing, it appears, with this list. Here it is, and I shall add my own brief thoughts in brackets:

1. People are very complex. Some of our sins are hidden to ourselves. [Amen. But I didn't need this, to know that; and all the harm that has been done was not necessary for this point to be made.]
2. We need to take very seriously what wise counselors tell us about ourselves. [Ironic. The advice of wise counselors to Piper himself that he should distance himself from Driscoll, or be more public in his rebukes, apparently is excepted.]
3. Sometimes you can see what others are saying about yourself, sometimes you can't. If you see it, you repent and fight the sin. But if you can't? What then? You have to go with what you see, or you'd be hopping to everybody's varying opinion, something neither Paul nor Jesus did. Says Mark stood down instead of a fight (implying he did the right thing). [This paints Driscoll's stepping down as a noble act, given Driscoll's inability to get what his critics are saying. Putting it mildly, I do not see it that way.]
4. Biblical leadership structures are not luxuries. [Amen. Yet Driscoll was unwilling to follow the counsel even of his hand-restructured structure.]
5. Salaries shouldn't be huge. Corporate mindset, beware. [Like a pastor seeing himself as "the brand"?]
6. Same theology on paper can coexist with very different personalities and leadership styles and sins. No theology on paper or merely in preaching that keeps a man from sin. See Peter — what he did in Galatia had nothing to do with his theology. Peter and those who erred with him believed the truth, but did not walk in step with it. [Amen.]
7. God's kingdom and his saving purposes never depend on one man, church, denomination. His word is not bound. [Amen, and thank God. But is it not also true that "one sinner destroys much good" (Ecclesiastes 9:18)?]
8. Let him who is thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall; restore such a one. For Mark's detractors to sniff "Good riddance" is sin and un-Biblical.  Renew and restore all, including Mark. [Already? It's time to talk about restoring Driscoll, already? To what? After what process? After assuring ourselves of what, and how? Should repentance play a part in restoration? Shouldn't we be talking about what repentance looks like (— like this, and this, and this, and this) before moving on to restoration?]

I'm not reassured to see that Piper thinks these are the main lessons he should learn from this. He did not already know these things? If not, what would he have done differently, knowing them?

Here are the lessons I'd like to suggest might be more helpful to learn from this. Were I someone whose judgment meant anything to John Piper, I'd be putting this before him:

1. To whom much given, from him much is required (Lk. 12:48; Jas. 3:1). Piper should have been much, much slower to extend his good reputation to someone with such a genuine and palpable cloud around him (1 Ti. 5:22, 24). Piper made a mistake. I have no trouble believing that it was good-hearted and well-intentioned, but it was a mistake. I think it he should own it, not double-down about it. That would serve him and the church better.
2. To turn a deaf ear to wise and godly counsel, as Piper did, is not wise (Pro. 11:14; 12:15; 15:22; 26:12).
3. Widen your circle and get out of your bubble. The echo-chamber clearly did not get the word through to Piper. They did not serve him well. So I'll just say it, and take the hate that will come: what if Piper had read Pyro? What if he'd really thought about what (for instance) Phil Johnson was writing, years ago? What if Piper were to say, "Someone pointed me to this blog nobody'd ever told me of, it's called Pyromaniacs. Years ago, Phil Johnson and others warned that exactly this would happen. I wish I'd been reading and listening; I've learned I need to widen my circle among those sharing my core convictions but seeing things differently. I regret that I didn't do that then, and urge others not to repeat my mistake." Would that be constructive, specific, and perhaps admonitory to others who keep making the same sorts of errors?
   
4. Re-think your enabling of Charismaticism. And then withdraw it. If you had read this (and additional comments like this and this), and had thought it through, you would have seen. Please, please consider what I am about to say very slowly and very seriously: there is a very short and straight line between (A) thinking God tells you stuff He tells no one else, yet (B) taking no responsibility and accepting no consequences for your claims to such revelation, and (C) abusive, egotistic, narcissistic, damaging leadership. History's told many such tales, and you just witnessed another firsthand. With such rotten fruit, shouldn't the tree be reassessed?
5. Force yourself to admit the extent of the damage caused.

I don't begrudge Piper's befriending Driscoll, for my part. I have been befriended by men much, much, much better than I. Thank God for them. I feel like they're all slumming, having me for a friend. So what I do is (A) I try to learn all I can from them, and (B) I try not to make them regret their friendship.

So what I am sad about is Driscoll abusing the friendship Piper extended. And what I particularly regret is that Piper simply is not admitting the extent of the bad public decisions he made, the damage that resulted, and the utter preventability of the whole thing.

Which simply assures more iterations. And does nothing to correct the specific situation we're discussing.

Thus endeth the post that, of all my many posts, I probably most hated having to write. I hope it does someone some good, for the sake of Christ's name and church.

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If I could change Christian vocabulary: "Closed Canon"

by Dan Phillips

I've remarked in the past that it often seems as if bad doctrines (and problematic denominations/cults) have all the best names, while orthodoxy gets stuck with negative terms. More than once, I've tried to spur a search for more positive terminology...with varying degrees of success. I've also tried to find less gauzy, more realistic descriptors for bad doctrine.

Wellsir, well ma'am, I'm back with another.

We're wont to talk about the closed Canon. By that we mean a great thing: we mean that the millennia-long process of revelation has reached its climax (Heb. 1:1-2), and no fresh revelation is being imparted.

It's a wonderfully robust truth. But the term is negative. It just says closed. No more. It doesn't mean that the process was successful or satisfactory; just that you aren't getting any more. Closed. You've gone to the pharmacy to get some medicine for your flu... but it's closed. You wanted to take your honey to your favorite restaurant... but it's closed. You wanted to register for the Sufficient Fire conference, but... well, thank God, that's not closed yet. But it will be.

See? Closed. Disappointing, dissatisfying. Final, yes; but not happy. Not gladsome connotations.

So what if in stead of "closed" we spoke of the...

Full Canon

"Full," as in "No, thanks, really, I'm stuffed. Not another bite!" As in "Everything I could possibly need." As in "Replete, well-stocked, abundantly furnished, neither room nor need for one bit more." Full.

Doesn't that describe the situation better and more truly both connotatively and denotatively? It isn't that the last apostle had a bunch he needed to say, but just expired before he could, and now the doors are closed. It isn't as if it's an inadequate product, but it's the one we've got, so we've got to make-do.

It's that God has given us everything for which we need a word from God. It's bursting with His wisdom, His mind, His heart, His direction, His instruction. It has more in it than we will ever be able to take in, process, savor, and put into practice! It has enough to make us wise to salvation (2 Tim. 3:15), and fully to equip us for every good work (2 Tim. 3:16-17)! It's full!

Which then correctly depicts the sort of person who'd try to come up with some sort of lame supplement in the light he deserves: foolish, futile, ignorant, and in the final analysis of-little-faith.

So I submit that for your mulling-over and discussion. What if we began speaking of the "full Canon" instead of the "closed Canon"? Would the newer phrase say all the older one did even better, and say more besides? Plus, it makes a nice set with another contribution of mine, "leaky Canon."

Have at it.

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Charismatics degrading revelation? Must be a day ending in a "y"

by Dan Phillips

The speaker here is Jennifer LeClaire. She's not some obscure figure off on the fringe; she is news editor at Charisma magazine — which I guess is the leaky-Canoneers' organ of record? At any rate, she's written books, she's got an internet presence, and on and on and on.

Plus, she's a preacher. Plus, she receives direct, verbal, extra-Scriptural revelation from God. And we're not talking feelings, impressions, hunches. We're talking about words from God that she can quote for us. And we need her to, right? Because they're not in our Bibles.

They're just Jennifer.

Well, not anymore, because she's thoughtfully passed on to us what God bypassed His Bible and His body of believers to speak to her only. And here it is. These are, according to Jennifer LeClaire, the words of God:

There is a great awakening coming to this nation. For I have heard your cries and I long to heal your land. I am a covenant God and I will not forget the covenant I made with your Founding Forefathers. Yes, there will be a shaking, but the foundations will not crack and they will not crumble. Only those things which can be shaken will be shaken that the sin in the land may be laid bare.

Well, it's all there, isn't it? It is a direct quotation of God. "I have heard your cries." Read the article: there is no "I might have gotten this exactly right," or "You have to understand, I'm about to impersonate God, but I don't mean you to think that I'm, you know, impersonating God," or "Remember how Grudem made it okay for me to redefine prophecy? There's my get-out-of-responsibility card!"

But wait, there's more.

This isn't the mere rehashing of Biblical generalities that many Charismatic pop-offecies feature. It actually imparts newly-revealed information, information that changes everything. "God" here tells us that "He" made a covenant with America's Founding Forefathers. Those Deists and Romanists and all-over-the-mappers were "His" covenant partners. Covenant with Abram, with Isaac, with Jacob... and with America's founders. The texts are Genesis 12, Exodus 2:24... and Jennifer.

And where is this covenant? What was the ceremony? When did it happen? What is the exact wording? Is it unilateral, bilateral, or what? Are there promises? What are they? Sanctions?

This is heavy, immense stuff. It changes history and our view of it. It changes the way we see America, and the way we need to demand that everyone sees America — you know, demand, in "God's" name, right? Because this is the Word of God. Like the Bible is.

And surely all the rest of us should put this in our preaching rotation, right? Because it's important. So: Proverbs, Ephesians, Gospel of John, prophecy of Isaiah, prophecy of Daniel, prophecy of Jennifer.

Plus, shouldn't living theologians schedule revisions of their texts? Especially Grudem? They weren't working with the full dataset.

There's a lot more in this prophecy. Interestingly, "God" calls the nation to repent — but "He" doesn't call this female preacher to repent of the obvious.

Are the high-traffic leaky-Canon-friendly reformed blogs all over this, either tearing it to shreds or preaching it up?

All right now, some of you are chuckling, some are groaning, some are gritting your teeth. Why am I doing this? (And this is nothing; we could go on, and on, and on.)

Because all of this is a perfect exhibition as to why the Strange Fire conference was necessary, and why conferences like Sufficient Fire are absolutely essential. The church has become inoculated and numbed to the outrageous audacity and distraction that is Charismaticism, and it has allowed its wonder and marvel and reverence over the Word of God to be adulterated down to the vaguest shadow of what it should be.

It's not a little thing. It's just treated like a little thing.

However, it is as if Christians who have a robust doctrine of the sufficiency of Scripture have an unspoken agreement about our Charismatic siblings. When they start claiming direct revelation, or semi-hemi-demi revelation, we just smile with fond indulgence and wait until they're done. It's like Crazy Uncle Rufus. We all love him, so when he starts up about how President Bush ordered the bombing of the World Trade Center, or alien bovine probing, we just smile and wink at each other. It's just Crazy Uncle Rufus being Crazy Uncle Rufus. We love him. No harm done, right?

Not right.

Not right, and not to God's glory. Nor does it adorn our witness to the lost. Nor is it to the good of Christ's church...nor of Jennifer LeClaire, for that matter.

That someone should speak up is a given. That all who affirm Scripture's self-revelation should speak up, sound the alarm — also a given.

That so few do... that's the mystery, and that's the shame.

But one just has to do what one can.

ADDENDUM: this poor lady only blames a 360-word rant on God. Francis Chan now tells us God "asked" him to write a whole book. This isn't Chan's first irresponsible statement of the kind. What if these thoughts from 2010 had been echoed and made more of a focus among those with a robust doctrine of the sufficiency of Scripture four years ago?

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Leaky canon = lazy disciple: a story

by Dan Phillips

Valerie was preparing some dish for our church pot luck, and needed lime-flavored tortilla chips.

I looked and looked among the chips, the tortilla chips. Nothing. Up, down, back and forth. Nothing. I mean, yes: there were chips of all kinds; there were even tortilla chips of all kinds.

Just no lime-flavored tortilla chips.

But I really wanted to please and serve Valerie, and I tend to be very tenacious in situations like this. So I kept looking, back and forth, up and down, back and forth, up and down.

Then I looked in a totally different area from where all the tortilla chips were — and there it was.

If I didn't care, I would have quit earlier. If I didn't have the conviction that Walmart had to carry this kind of chip, I would have quit earlier.

Moral: The effect of these "God whispered in my ear and it worked out" stories is to encourage and validate giving up, and thus to encourage laziness.

After all, if you have the conviction that Scripture doesn't have every word you need from God, you'll look a bit... then you'll quit. If you don't see it on the shelf after a couple of glances, and your theology tells you that not everything you need is in fact on the shelf, and that there is in fact an entirely different way to get what you're looking for... done!

What's more, if you have a choice between close, hard, focused, disciplined study, and maybe the humbling experience of asking for help, on the one hand — and having God just murmur the answer directly into your ear, on the other (thus giving you the unchallengeable G-card) ... who'd choose study?

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Leaky Canons and moralizing Gospel misfires: an analogy

by Dan Phillips

On the way to this piece's point, two things must be made very clear:

First: every unglorified saint has doctrinal blind spots and inconsistencies. You do, I do. There's no helping it. You credobaptists see it clearly in your pedobaptist brothers, and they see it clearly in their Arminian brothers, and on it goes. And if you ask me what my blind spots are, I'll be forced to ask in reply what it is about "blind spots" you don't understand. We all have them, and that's what that Remedial Theology 101 class is all about.

Second: some Leaky Canon brothers are splendid preachers of the Gospel, and of a great many other solid-gold Biblical truths. They are as sound on the issue of justification by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone, to the glory of God alone, as any man ever has been since Paul wrote Romans and Galatians. The parallel I'm going to suggest is not in any way meant eo ipso to impugn the Gospel soundness of a Leaky Canoneer simply because he is a Leaky Canoneer.

Having said that, then...

It struck me forcefully, as I was praying today, that there is a parallel between the Leaky Canon position and the false gospel of moralism.

What is that false gospel? It is the idea that we need more and/or better rules. It sees Jesus as a great teacher, a great enabler, a great example. It brings in Biblical imperatives as laws we must keep to win God's favors, and then moves perhaps to improve on those laws for that same reason. It's similar to the classmate at seminary who, when I suggested that the student handbook's section on conduct just single out directly-Biblical issues such as lying and stealing and immorality, replied that all that just "isn't specific enough."

To that, Biblical Christians reply that more rules would just damn us more. We're sinners. We don't live up to the light we have. More light just means more condemnation, more rules means more guilt. If the problem were lack of guidance, they might help. But the problem is sin, and rules simply serve to stir sin up (cf. Rom. 7:5-11, etc.). That is why we need sovereign grace to save us. Not more rules.

What does that possibly have to do with the Leaky Canon error?

We have sixty-six books full of the inerrant, sufficient, and morally-binding revelation of God's heart. It claims to impart absolutely everything we need to know in order to know and serve God.

So let me ask:

Is there any sane, rational, even-marginally-sentient being who would claim that the professing Christian church as a whole is doing a very good job of teaching and preaching the contents of those sixty-six books?

No.

Then let me ask this:

Is there any sane, rational, even-marginally-sentient being who would claim that professing Christians as a whole are doing a very good job of studying and learning and practicing (let alone even working to support churches that teach and preach) the contents of those sixty-six books?

No.

Leading us inexorably to ask: 

That being the case, how can anyone argue that what we really need is more words from God?

But wait, it gets even worse!

Given that 106 years of Leaky Canon errorism has not yet produced even one universally-acknowledged syllable of prophetic-level revelation from God, and given that in the light of that 100% failure they have worked hard so to lower the bar and redefine what they promise so as to remove it from the arena of falsifiability, we must reword that question:

How can anyone argue that what we really need is more semi-sorta hazy mumbly jumbly foggy indistinct words from God at several degrees of removal?

More words from God, given our failure to be faithful to what we already have, and absent repentance, would simply mean more failure and more faithlessness.

But more words from God that really aren't necessarily words from God, but that maybe might kinda be words from God, and that claim to be essential for a real and vital and living relationship with God, though they require 1000 time-and-focus-devouring-and-diverting qualifications...?

Yikes!

All of which takes us right back to the sufficiency challenge, and leaves Leaky Canonism as exposed and repugnant (— in its distinctives!) as it should have been all along.

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Asking (and answering) the wrong question

by Dan Phillips

Often a lot of good folks' good time is wasted in responding to the wrong question, to no good result.

Among Christians, I see this most frequently and specifically when someone robustly affirms the sufficiency of Scripture with nary a squish. Few things flush out the false paradigms today more surely than really-really believing that God really-really has said all that needs saying for our day.

For instance, if you announce, "I believe Scripture tells us absolutely everything we need to know about the will of God," someone is going to retort "That sounds like deism," or "That leaves out the ministry of the Holy Spirit."

Or if you say, "Prayer is you talking to God. God talking to you is prophecy. Today, God talks to us in the Bible, period," you will hear "How is that a relationship? Where's the Holy Spirit in that?"

And usually, people who aren't me (and there are so many of them! bless their hearts!) will patiently try to respond at interminable length and — here's they key word — will defend the Biblical position, shore up and repair the damage done by the challenger's premise.

As you might have guessed, I have a different sort of response, and it goes something like this: Well, then...

1. If the Bible teaches Deism, then by all means let's all of us be Deists!
2. If the Bible leaves out the Holy Spirit, by all means let's all of us leave out the Holy Spirit!
3. If the Bible tells us we don't have a relationship with God, then by all means let's all of us not have a relationship with God!

Shocking? If any of the questions is cited above resonated with you, I sure hope so. See, in that case, here's your problem: you came up with a paradigm, you applied it to the Bible and to God, and then you demanded that God (and any who try to speak in His name) snap to your paradigm. You forgot who's the Master, and who's the slave.

So, when someone affirmed the Bible's teaching, and the Bible's teaching clashed with your paradigm (which you may or may not have cadged from the Bible), you smacked the Bible's teaching with the implications of your paradigm. It didn't fit your ideas, your model; so it had to change.

That's a serious problem. Don't you see that? No? Ask yourself: what does the Bible call it when we fashion an image of God (literal or conceptual) and worship that image? "Ohhh," you say. Yep: that's a step in the direction of idolatry.

Let me try to be even pointeder. You said, in effect, "I know what a relationship is: one person talks straight into the other person's ear, then the other person responds straight into the first person's ear. The other person doesn't just write stuff down and say 'There, look at that, it'll tell you what you need to know.' I know that is what a relationship is. Therefore, that must be what it's like to have a relationship with God!"

And there you went. No matter what the Bible teaches about having a relationship with God.

Or you said, "I know what 'spirit' is, it's a mystical ineffable Something that mysteriously moves in a fluttery, non-rational manner, in our feelings and hunches and such. So that's what the Holy Spirit must be like. And since it is the Holy Spirit who gives feelings and hunches and low-grade semi-revelations and ineffable senses of God's nearness, to deny any of that is to deny the work of the Spirit."

And there you went. No matter what the Bible teaches about the person and work of the Holy Spirit.

Or you said, "Deism is where God isn't giving some kind of constant flow of direct personal kinda-revelation anymore. Deism is bad. Therefore, denying that God gives some kind of direct personal kinda-revelation is Deism, and it's bad."

And there you went. No matter what the Bible teaches about the power and life and majesty and completeness and perfection of the Word of God, and its role in the believer's life.

The problem here, then, is asking the wrong question because of a mistaken premise. So we answer the question, but do not address the premise — and we just end up playing Whack-a-Mole. What we need to do is to roll grenade into one of those holes and bring the whole thing down, so God's truth can replace it.

So with this latter example, above. The premise is, "Unless God dribbles mumbly semi-revelation directly into my quivering ear, He's dead and inactive and we don't have a relationship." Rather than defensively try to answer such questions, instead we should say "Where is your authority for that understanding of 'relationship'? Specifically, where is your Biblical authority for that model of our normal relationship with God?"

To take another popular area of faithlessness that enjoys more respect than it should: "I know what dignity means, and I know that for women to have dignity, they must be able to do A, B and C." So we take that premise to the Bible, and (depending on what formalities of faith remain) come up with a rationale for either disregarding or disfiguring the parts that don't fit our premise. The problem, once again, is the premise, and a Genesis 3-like unwillingness to allow God to define what is and is not feminine dignity.

With all such misbased, badly-premised challenges to Biblical faith and life, we should take the premise to the Bible and brutalize it (and its adherents) for non-compliance. Remember: faith is embracing God's Word (Gen. 15:1, 6; Rom. 10:17), lack of faith is sin (Rom. 14:23), and sin is to be put to howling, shrieking death (Rom. 8:13) — not negotiated with and treated as an honored guest.

Because anyone who studies God's Word with any seriousness soon sees that the Bible has a higher view of the Holy Spirit than these leaky canoneers have. The Bible represents that He did a simply boffo job in providing a perfectly adequate, dynamic, living and sufficient revelation in Scripture. And He expects us to study, learn, understand, believe, and live it. And He thinks that will keep us plenty busy.

And if we don't want to be prayerless Deists who quench the Spirit and have no relationship to God, we will believe Him.

(PS — for related thoughts, I warned over a half-decade ago about the Delight and de danger of de metaphor.)

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About any Word from God: basic considerations

by Dan Phillips

[You might expect something on ER2 and, eventually, I may write more about it. Meanwhile, I'd just ask you to re-read Thabiti's eloquent and moving post from October 1 of 2011, and this and this, and ask yourself where we would be today if the thoughts in posts such as those and other similar warnings, written months in advance of ER2, had been so broadly and publicly taken up that it would be impossible for MacDonald and Driscoll to ignore such concerns. Meanwhile, this.]

It is a central tenet of Christian faith that there is such a thing as a word from God (Gen. 1:1; 15:1; Jn. 1:1, 14, 18; 3:34, etc.). Without that assertion, made and affirmed, there simply and literally is no Christian faith (Rom. 10:17).

So, HSAT, let's think through some questions about words from God:

1. Does it change anything, if there is a word from God?
2. Does it change everything, if there is a word from God?
3. Does the Bible ever depict the arrival of a fresh word from God as intended to be welcomed as a casual, business-as-usual affair?
4. Is there such a thing as a word from God that is not inherently fully true, and thus inerrant?
5. Is there such a thing as a word from God that is not instantly, inherently and absolutely morally-binding?
6. Even in the cases of words from God that do not direct me to do something (i.e. Jer. 18:1; Jn. 1:14), are they not still inherently and instantly and universally morally-binding in that believers must affirm that they are God's words, and must believe them?
7. Does not the very existence of tests of prophecy (i.e. Deut. 13:1ff.; 18:15ff.) underscore the fact that, if it is a word from God, all people are obliged to embrace it appropriately?
8. If the elder(s) of a local church knew of anyone in the congregation that was in rebellion against a word from God, either by refusing to do what the word said to do, or refusing to believe that the word was God's word, would they not be obliged to confront and discipline that person, and ultimately to expel him or her as an unbeliever, absent repentance?
9. Can a body of believers be in the regular practice of disobeying, ignoring, or being ambivalent about words from God, without disastrous spiritual consequences?

There. Now I'll ask and answer two more questions:

1. Say... isn't that an awfully basic list of awfully easy questions? (Answer: in "evangelicalism" today? It should be, yes. Would to God that it were. But no, evidently it is not.)
2. Are you going somewhere with this, fella? (I mean to, yes; probably Thursday.)

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Faith, reason, obedience and sufficiency

by Dan Phillips

As I read through the first part of Jeremiah 13, an instructive and timely pattern leapt out at me.

In verse one, Yahweh instructs the prophet to purchase and wear a linen loincloth. In verse 2, Jeremiah does it. Period. Then, and only then, does the prophet receive another word from Yahweh.

Pause and reflect on that. Such a trivial command, no? As if God parted the heavens to tell you to buy a can of olives, or a jar of mayonnaise, and put it on the shelf?

If that were the case, would it be lawful and reasonable to ask why this command was given? Sure, I don't know why not. We could ask. But suppose no answer was forthcoming? What then?

In response, let me ask four questions of my own:

1. Was the directive surely from God?
2. Was the directive clear enough?
3. Does God deserve obedience, regardless of the presence or absence of further explanation as to His rationale?
4. Would it in any sense be unreasonable to say that disobedience, dithering or delay would itself be unreasonable?

In the Biblical example before us, the answers are clear enough. To the first three questions, I would suggest that Yes is the only reasonable answer; and, to the fourth, only No.

Suppose Jeremiah never received one further word from Yahweh. The entry for that day might be, "Dear Diary: today, Yahweh told me to buy a belt, so I did." The diary's last entry of his life might include, "...oh, and I never found out what the deal with the belt was. But that's okay. He's Yahweh. I'm not."

Why would it be "okay"? Do this mental exercise. List for me every last being who does not have exhaustive knowledge of the nature, meaning and significance of every fact or event that ever has existed or will exist, as well as every fact or event that might have existed.

That will be a very, very long list. Blogger won't allow you to write all the names in your comment. This list will contain the name of every last sentient creature, of any order, ever.

My name will be on that list. Yours, as well.

Now: list for me every last being who does have exhaustive knowledge of the nature, meaning and significance of every fact or event that ever has existed or will exist, as well as every fact or event that might have existed.

That will be a very short list. It will contain only one name: God.

At this point — because this is what they do — your village atheist might sputter and fume with explosive, scornful fury. But, just to be blunt and plain, that's what Hell is all about, and that is why only people who deserve to be in Hell will be in Hell... and why we all deserve to be in Hell. The idea of a God who deserves ultimate and all-consuming love and respect and obedience, simply because He is God, is abhorrent, and the rejection of that premise is what launched the doomed project known as "the world."

Back to our passage. The issue to Jeremiah, once he received this seemingly nonsensical directive, is this and only this: is Yahweh worthy of faith, love, and obedience?

That, right there, is the archetypal question. It was that same question in the Garden, and it was at that same point that our great-great-greats answered wrongly, and doomed us all.

You see, they had a word from God that was also clear and sufficient: don't eat the fruit of this tree, or you will die. In that, they actually had more than Jeremiah had, in that they had a known consequence. So the issue was exactly the same: was Yahweh worthy of faith, love, and obedience?

Sure, they could have asked a million questions. Why that tree? Why make that tree? Why put that tree there? and on and on. But the trump to every last question was the answer to the same four questions above, and the answer would have been exactly the same. Did they need to know the answers to any of those questions in order to know what they must do, and why? No.

But Eve listened to Satan, and decided that epistemological autonomy was the way for her. Maybe Yahweh was right, maybe He was wrong. Who knows? She would decide for herself. She would cull reasons and information from sources that made sense to her, and give and pursue the answer that made sense to her. The locus of authority, the pivot-point of the universe, shifted at that moment from the throne of Yahweh to the mind of Eve — though only in her mind.

And Adam said, "Sure, honey, whatever." 

And what in the world does that have to do with the post's title?

Simple. We can ask a million questions about God's Word, too. Why did this and that happen, according to the Bible? Why can't men do this and this, and why must they do that and that? Why can't women do this and this, and why must they do that and that? And children? Why must we believe this, and disbelieve that? Why must we preach this, and denounce that?

While I am forced to say that we are, all of us, inconsistent with what we should believe and do, and we all fail and sin in one way or another; I am equally forced to say that we are compelled to ask and answer the same four questions as we posed of Yahweh's quizzical-but-crystal-clear command to Jeremiah, above.

This is the dividing-point between orthodoxy and heterodoxy, and between faithfulness and faithlessness. And here, too, is the dividing-point between those who rest in the sufficiency of Scripture, and the endlessly-discontented Leaky Canoneers. 

Both groups share in common that the Bible doesn't tell them all that they would like to know or hear. The difference is that the first category trusts God's wisdom and goodness, and sets itself in faith to make the most of every bit God's abundant provision — whereas the second sets itself to invent and pursue different avenues to get the experiences and knowledge they demand.

Though both claim "faith" as their motivator, I think the Biblical definition and illustration will properly apply only to one of the orientations.

To the other, other Bible words and other analyses will apply.

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Subjective Impressions, ESP, and Reverse Deja Vu

by Phil Johnson

Intuition and Superstition: An Admonition

Impressions on the mind are like Rorschach tests: Make of them whatever you will, but if you treat them as "prophecy," that's just crazy.

Today we continue the discussion of cessationism vs. continuationism; true prophecy vs. fallible prognostication; and sola Scriptura vs. modern charrismatic prophets.

(First posted 31 March 2007)

veryone has unexplained thoughts that seem to leap from nowhere into the mind. (Note: When I say "everyone," I mean believers and unbelievers alike; I don't necessarily mean "every single individual." I've met a few less-than-completely sentient people who seem incapable of any original thought whatsoever. They prolly never get spontaneous notions of anything. Let's leave those folks out of this discussion.)


Most people likewise have a sense of intuition, where at times you just feel like you know a thing is true and you can't give an account for how you arrived at that knowledge rationally. It may even seem like you have ESP, or ESPN2, or whatever. It's a lot like deja vu, only backwards. I happen to think that sense of intuition is probably more rational than we can explain. In any case, I'm quite sure it's not really a supernatural spiritual gift from God, because it has such a poor track record. Besides, I had the same intuitive abilities before I was converted as I have now.

My sense of intuition is sort of like a stopped clock that was designed to measure time in months instead of hours. Once or twice a year (on average) it's right. And when it's right, it can seem quite impressive. I've had some moments of intuition that I could have parlayed into a fortune, if I were the type of charlatan who is willing to claim he has a prophetic gift even when he knows he really doesn't. I certainly have no such gift. For the most part, my intuition is grossly fallible and ordinarily wrong. I don't trust it at all, even though my experience is probably a lot like yours: there are times when I feel compelled to follow my intuition.

To be clear: I usually "feel compelled to follow" my intuition only when I don't have a better rational or sensible idea of what to do. Maturity has taught me to hold off on trusting intuition and try to understand facts and reasons and the potential results of my actions before I act. In fact, I'd say that's what maturity is all about, to a very large degree.

But, how do we understand that inner sense, especially when God seems to use it to prompt us to pray, or witness, or duck and run at precisely the right moment? Because let's be honest, here: that kind of thing does happen to most of us from time to time.

As I said in a comment-thread [once upon a time] (see below), we need to regard those occasions as remarkable Providences, not inspired prophecy. God might use a spontaneous thought in my head providentially. In fact, as a Calvinist, I don't hesitate to say that He ultimately controls and uses everything providentially. But that's as true of my sins as it is of the thoughts in my head. God can use them all for His own purposes. The fact that He uses an idea in my mind to achieve some good purpose doesn't make the idea itself inspired.

That's the point we are trying to make in all these various threads about prophecy and cessationism. It's an important point. We're not trying to step on the charismatic air-hose just because it's fun.

So please give these things some serious thought before you react this time.

Four lessons:

1. If intuition is fallible (and everyone except the out-and-out-charlatan seems to agree that it is), it cannot be considered "revelation," even when it happens to be uncannily right in an instance or two.
   
   
2. Since intuition is so fallible—and most would agree that it is actually far more often wrong than right—we shouldn't make much of it.
   
   
3. Those who think those moments of intuition are God speaking with a private message invariably become extremely superstitious; they foolishly order their lives by their feelings; they commit the sin of trusting too much in their own hearts; and they diminish the more sure Word of prophecy. No one who knows church history, and no one who truly understands the concept of spiritual maturity can deny that Christians who follow the voice in their heads fall into those errors all the time, and it can be (and often is) spiritually disastrous.
   
   
4. Since our intuitive sense is so grossly fallible, and since every sane, biblical Christian would acknowledge that it's dangerous to pay much attention to it, we should not try to elevate it to the level of a supernatural "spiritual gift." It most certainly does not resemble any of the spiritual gifts—much less the gift of "prophecy"—as we see those gifts functioning in the New Testament.

Here's that comment I made in the meta [once upon a time]: I'm tied up with meetings today and unable to participate in the blog-discussion, but a couple of people have e-mailed me privately with the same question about this thread. One begged me for an answer; the other accused me of dodging the question. So here's the question and my short answer: Q: If God doesn't speak to you directly, how does he "lead" you to do anything? How, for example, did you know Darlene was the right person to marry?; how did you know you were called to ministry?; and how do you explain it when a thought pops into your head and prompts you to pray for someone? Short answer: I trust the providence of God. I can't necessarily interpret the providence of God infallibly, though. So if (for example) I suddenly think to pray for the safety or holiness of one of my children, I don't need to interpret that as a prophetic message from God that Pecadillo or one of his brothers is in immediate danger. But I pray for them nonetheless, though I can't possibly understand why that thought popped into my head or even discern correctly whether it originated in my own imagination or was immediately infused into my brain by the Holy Spirit. If it turns out later that I prayed at exactly the right moment when some specific danger befell one of my kids, I praise God for a remarkable providence. I DON'T, however, twist it into some kind of quasi-revelation and use it as an excuse to trust my own heart. Scripture says those who do that are fools (Proverbs 28:26). Here's the thing: I trust Providence enough to believe that God ordained that I should pray, and He will answer my prayer for His glory and my good, even if the thought that prompted the prayer was out of my own imagination. But it would be a sin for me to claim God "told" me to pray about that particular thing at that particular time when He did no such thing. Providence, people. Go and learn what that means, and we can avoid having this debate every 6 weeks or so. Here's a book, written by a good friend of mine, that deals with this issue well. 11:45 AM, March 29, 2007

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Charismatics and Qu'ran-burning/not-burning Terry Jones

by Dan Phillips

Terry Jones, you will recall, is the pastor who had planned to burn Qu'rans/Korans/Qurans/Allah-Driven-Lifes on 9/11.

Why was he going to do it? The reason is under-reported, but reader Jason Woelm brought it to my attention. According to associate pastor Wayne Sapp — yes, evidently a church with around 50 people has an associate pastor; go figure — said that God told them to do it.

"God is leading us right up to the moment. It's no different than Abraham and his son. God didn't tell him, 'Go right up to the point where you might sacrifice him.' He wanted him to be fully committed. We're prepared to do what we're called to do."

Oh boy, here we go. As long as I've been preaching, teaching, writing I have been trying to school anyone who will listen to take such talk seriously, and analyze it right down to the floor. I urged folks to do it with Francis Chan's irresponsible language. Now let's do it with this gent.

So Sapp — I did not make that name up, before you ask — says "God is leading us...no different than Abraham and his son." Does he mean what he said? "No different than Abraham and his son"? Because we read in Genesis 22:1 and following that God spoke to Abraham, in inerrant, morally-binding, direct, verbal revelation. Had Abraham refused, it would have been sin.

Is that what Sapp is claiming? That he and his church are receiving inerrant, morally-binding, direct, verbal revelation from God today? If they didn't obey, it would be sin? Too bad no reporter seems to have asked this question.

But Sapp leaves wiggle room, adding that the church was still in prayer, and could cancel — thus the point of citing Abraham. You see, God told Abraham to kill Isaac, and then told him not to kill Isaac. It could be like that with them, Sapp was saying. God tells them A, then He tells them anti-A.

Wellsir, it turns out those words, at least, were prophetic, because Pastor Jones himself later said "We feel that God is telling us to stop.... Not today, not ever. We're not going to go back and do it. It is totally canceled."

So, that's interesting, isn't it? God told them to do it, then God told them not to do it. But when God told them to do it, they built in the wiggle that God might change His mind. Yet then when God tells them not to do it, there is no wiggle-room: "Not today, not ever. We're not going to go back and do it." Sounds final. Nice that "God" seems to have settled His mind on the issue, finally (I speak as a leaky-Canoneer).

By this time, our single-issue readers are beside themselves. "What does any of that have to do with Charismatics? These guys are nuts!" Not so fast. We've seen it many times. All Charismatics come in right at this point: they come in by giving this man "cover." A Charismatic has to say,

"Well, how do I know whether God told him to do this? He could have. It could have been like Abraham, with God just doing this to expose the Muslims, like Jones says. God never meant Jones to do it, He just meant him to say he was going to do it, so the Muslims who riot and foam  and make threats and throw chairs would be seen by all to be the violent loons that they are. We mustn't quench the Spirit. We can't put God in a box."

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SIDE NOTE: just too rich to skip. Get this: Pat Robertson criticized Jones — for Jones' arrogance! I am not making this up. This is Pat Robertson, the Charismatic (Southern Baptist!) leader whose massive, tireless mouth and constant claims of semi-revelation have made Christians wince and squirm the world over. "This is so stupid!", foams this particular unpaid bill of Charismaticism (see also here).

But I digress.

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So, all Charismatics "own" Terry Jones.

Let's be more specific: the Wayne Grudem type of Charismatics — and everyone who gives Grudem cover —  "own" Pastor Jones.

How so? They give Jones cover by their desperate re-defining and Clintoning-down of the Biblical gift of prophecy. What is prophecy, to Grudem? He explains it as the errant reporting of inerrant revelation. It is precisely like the old liberal redefinition of Biblical inspiration: the writers of Scripture received inerrant inspiration from God, but they wrote it down errantly. Grudem simply transfers this to NT prophets, instead of the writers of Scripture: they give errant reporting of spontaneous inerrant revelation. The message they receive is right, but it may be garbled in transmission.

So, on the broad ground laid by Grudem and all his fanboys, who can say whether or not Jones and Sapp were just errantly reporting an inerrant guiding? Not you. Not I. Not them.

Ditto the miserable spiritual trainwreck that is Blackaby-ism: on their premises, who can say whether or not this was God's leading, hinting and nudging Jones to make a fool of himself for Christ?

Am I being unfair? I don't think so. The constant refrain of such folks is that God is whispering and mumbling and nudging, and the only "control" we have is whether or not it is contrary to Scripture. Well, friends and neighbors, that leaves a lot of open ground for fools to graze. So: is it contrary to Scripture in so many words to burn some cult's "holy" book? Nope. So there you go: it might have been God's static-riddled leading — on Charismatic/Grudemic/Blackabbean premises.

I know, we're not supposed to say this, or ask these questions. We all love Charismatics, with all their great music and laughing and big name sane leaders and enthusiasm and joy and warmth and all. True; I love them too.

But I still think we have to ask the hard questions, lay down rulers and draw out where all these lines lead.

So where do we stand — we who confirm Scriptures' sufficiency and the Canon's close without crossing our fingers?

We're left with Scripture, and our responsible application of it.

In response to Jones, we come up with something like this, or this, in short. What we do is we study to find what the inerrantly revealed and inscripturated call of the church, and we pursue that call. Faced with choices to do this or do that, one prayerfully and responsibly and rationally weighs them by Scripture, and then one makes a decision. One then takes responsibility for that decision if it does not grow from a direct statement of Scripture, rather than blaming it on God.

So: should Christians be ashamed by association with Terry Jones... or John Crowder?

Don't look at me.

Take it up with a Charismatic.

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What if someone claims an angelic visitation?

by Dan Phillips

I can't do Phil's fancy font-effects, but have decided to bring a comment from the last post up into a post of its own. Craig Bennett asked:

Hey DJP,

What would your reaction be towards a person who said an angel appeared and spoke to them [sic] today?

To this I, of course, replied:

Cut to the chase, Craig: you're pregnant.

The good-humored Craig responded:

bawhhhaaa haaa nice 1 DJP,

No I'm not pregnant. However Scripture does tell us to be hospitable to strangers for they might be angels.

I'm just wondering if you would believe today if someone said they [sic] had an angelic encounter...

Here's my serious response.

Craig, straight-up, I'd doubt it, on this basis:

Passages such as Hebrews 1:1-2, and 2:1-4 (among many others) make it clear that God is not sanguine about professed believers impatiently looking past His word for something better, more exciting, more entertaining. He didn't take it well when Israel ignored repeated (real-live, inerrant and binding) prophetic pleas:

Yet the LORD warned Israel and Judah by every prophet and every seer, saying, "Turn from your evil ways and keep my commandments and my statutes, in accordance with all the Law that I commanded your fathers, and that I sent to you by my servants the prophets." 14 But they would not listen, but were stubborn, as their fathers had been, who did not believe in the LORD their God. 15 They despised his statutes and his covenant that he made with their fathers and the warnings that he gave them. They went after false idols and became false, and they followed the nations that were around them, concerning whom the LORD had commanded them that they should not do like them. 16 And they abandoned all the commandments of the LORD their God, and.... (2 Kings 17:13-16)

"And" what, you ask? Does it really matter? They turned from the word of God to something else. The specific form of rebellion and unbelief is secondary. He says again in Jeremiah 35:15 — "Also I have sent to you all My servants the prophets, sending them again and again, saying: 'Turn now every man from his evil way, and amend your deeds, and do not go after other gods to worship them, then you shall dwell in the land which I have given to you and to your forefathers; but you have not inclined your ear or listened to Me'" (NAS).

Now that revelation has reached its climax in God's own Son (Matthew 17:5-8; Hebrews 1:1-2), is it sane or reasonable to imagine that God's attitude towards His inerrant, binding, sufficient revelation would be more shoulder-shruggy? If we imagine so, we aren't getting the idea from His Word (Hebrews 12:25).

That, in a word, is the mind of God for our age: hear and heed what He has already said. We don't need new, we don't need more. We need to deal with what He has given. And by and large, we aren't.

As every one of us here at Pyro assesses our age, professed Christians are "into" everything but the Word of God: entertainment, fake tongues and fake prophecy and fake semi-revelation, showmen, flattery, and all the rest that the three of us frequently hold up to the harsh light of Scripture.

We've seen it in many of our commenters over the past two years. Numerous brothers and sisters scarce peep when the Gospel is perverted, when Christ is in effect dethroned, when the truth is twisted. They're non-participants. Try to open up some doctrine of Scripture, and eyes glaze over. They're no-shows.

But boy oh boy oh boy, say a word affirming the sufficiency of Scripture, or critiquing their pet-distraction, and they've nothing more exciting to do than argue. To us, it's a bit like the doctor with his "Does this hurt?" "No." "This?" "No." "This?" "YAAOOOWWWCH! WHAT ARE TRYING TO DO, KILL ME? And besides, it's not a problem!"

So, to your question, I'd start out with the expectation that God Himself is unlikely to do something that would surely be turned into Excuse #47958 For Focusing On Something Other Than God's Inerrant, Abiding, Living, Sufficient Word, something that would birth books like "Walking with Angels" and "My Homey Gabriel," and seminars on finding your angelic guide.

If it grieves a dull pinhead like me to see "evangelicals" so indifferent to His Word, and so excited about made-up playtime amusements, it's hard to imagine how God must see it.

Lame analogy: every one of my kids has on occasion balked at something their mother (or I) serve at mealtime. Now my dear, long-suffering wife has never yet served them a plate of poison toadstools or bloated roadkill. Her food's always good, nourishing, edible, made with mother's love, all that wonderful stuff. So I require that they eat what they're served, no matter what dramatics they produce — and let's all grant that all kids know how to bring the drama.

Sometimes these sessions have developed into fairly long-lasting contests of will. I have memories and mental images that still amaze me.

Now, if I have said (sing it with me), "This isn't a cafeteria, it isn't poison, I expect you to you eat what you're served," and there's resistance — what should I do? If I go back on my word, then my kids know forever that I can be rolled, that I don't mean what I say, that they can't take what I say on its face and go to the bank with it. In short, that I'm a weak-willed liar. I would have done them a terrible disservice.

But suppose I came in and said, "Oh, while you're sitting there disdainfully contemplating the food your mother served you, and deciding for yourself what you feel like doing about it — whether you think you want to eat it or not — here's a bit of chocolate! And if you hold out longer, I'll go get some pizza and ice cream."

What then? Haven't I just undone my whole point, and made it easier for them to disrespect and disobey and miss the whole point of this exercise?

So, living as we do in the epoch following the completion and close of the Canon, I would approach a claim to angelic dialogue with a strong bias towards its unlikeliness.

And yes, I am aware of (and believe) the verse in Hebrews. It's about being hospitable. We should be hospitable. It isn't about looking for angelic visitation, is it?

Thanks for asking.

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Something "Nice"?

Part 2 of 2: Why I think Charismatic Doctrine Is to Blame for the Overabundance of Craziness in That Movement
by Phil Johnson

    prodigious wacko fringe has always been one of the charismatic movement's most prominent features. In little more than a century, the Pentecostal and Charismatic movements have spun off so many bad doctrines and bizarre characters that I have a thick dictionary in my office just to help me keep track of them all.

Furthermore, I'm convinced it's not just some kind of fantastic cosmic coincidence that has loaded the movement with an unusually high number of charlatans and heretics. I've suggested on more than one occasion that a major reason the charismatic movement has produced more than its fair share of aberrant behavior is because the distinctive doctrines of charismatic belief foster gullibility while constantly seeding the movement with all kinds of whimsy. Specifically, the charismatic belief that it's normative for Spirit-filled Christians to receive extrabiblical divine revelation through various mystical means has opened the door for all kinds of mischief.

I would not for a moment deny that there are some relatively sane and sensible charismatics who love Scripture and generally teach sound doctrine while avoiding most of their movement's worst errors. I think they represent a fairly small minority of the worldwide charismatic community, but they do exist. A few of them are good friends—even longtime friends—of mine. I have friends (for example) in the Calvary Chapel movement, which is mildly charismatic in doctrine but whose worship is generally more Bible-centered than even the typical non-Charismatic seeker-sensitive church. As a matter of fact, my chief concern about the Calvary Chapel movement would not even be their advocacy of charismatic views, but their increasingly aggressive campaign against Calvinism.

That's not all. I have warm affection and heartfelt respect for most of the best-known Reformed charismatic leaders, including C. J. Mahaney, Wayne Grudem, and Sam Storms. I've greatly benefited from major aspects of their ministries, and I regularly recommend resources from them that I have found helpful. I've corresponded with the world-famous Brit-blogger Adrian Warnock for at least 15 years now and had breakfast with him on two occasions, and I like him very much. I'm sure we agree on far more things than we disagree about. And I'm also certain the matters we agree on—starting with the meaning of the cross—are a lot more important than the issues we disagree on, which are all secondary matters.

But that is not to suggest that the things we disagree on are non-issues.

Candor, and not a lack of charity, requires me to state this conviction plainly: The belief that extrabiblical revelation is normative does indeed "regularly and systematically breed willful gullibility, not discernment." Even the more sane and sober charismatics are not totally exempt from the tendency.

Remember that Paul Cain and the Kansas City Prophets found an amazing amount of support from "Reformed Charismatics" on both sides of the Atlantic, even after it was clear to more objective minds that the "prophets'" were regularly and systematically issuing false prophecies.

And that fact ought to have been clear very early. In 1989, the senior Kansas City prophet, Bob Jones, acknowledged that he could claim an accuracy rate of no higher than two-thirds. By 1991, Jones was utterly discredited because of his own sexual misconduct with women who came to him seeking prophetic counseling.

Shortly after that (in early 1992), John MacArthur, Lance Quinn, and I met with Paul Cain and Jack Deere in John MacArthur's office at Jack Deere's request. Deere wanted to try to convince John MacArthur that the charismatic movement—especially the Vineyard branch—was on a trajectory to make doctrinal soundness and biblical integrity the hallmarks of Third-Wave charismatic practice. He brought Cain along, ostensibly so that we could see for ourselves that Cain was a legitimate prophet with a profound gifting.

But Cain was virtually incoherent that day. Lance Quinn remarked to me immediately afterward that it seemed as if Cain had been drinking heavily. (In retrospect it seems a fair assumption that this may indeed have been the case.) Even Deere apologized for Cain's strange behavior that day, but Deere seemed to want us to assume it was because the Spirit was upon Cain in some unusual way. They both admitted to us that Cain's "prophecies" were wrong at least as often as they were right. When we cited that as sufficient reason not to accept any of their prophecies at face value, they cited Wayne Grudem's views on New Testament prophecy as justification for ignoring the errors of prophecies already proven false while giving credence to still more questionable pronouncements.

That meeting was extremely eye-opening for me. Deere was unable to answer basic questions about certain practices Lance and I had personally observed him participating in at the Anaheim Vineyard just a few weeks before that meeting. Specifically, we asked him about two "prophets" whose public words of knowledge in the morning service were flatly contradictory. (The dueling prophets were apparently using their "gifts" to air out a dispute over some decision the church's leaders had recently made.) Deere acknowledged that the prophecies that morning were contradictory. And he could not explain why John Wimber let both prophecies stand without a word of explanation or clarification. (He seemed to shrug off our concern by speculating that perhaps even Wimber wasn't sure which prophecy, if either, was the true one.) Again, he appealed to Grudem, perhaps the most theologically sound of all charismatics, as justification for accepting the two prophets' gifting as legitimate anyway.

I left that meeting amazed that anyone would give credence to such "prophets." But several of the best "Reformed Charismatic" leaders—all citing Grudem for authority—continued to give credence to Cain, the Kansas City Prophets, and others like them for a long, long time. Some of the Reformed Charismatics who lent Paul Cain undue credibility did not really renounce him as a prophet until about twelve years later, when his personal sins finally came to light.

(And it may be stretching things to say everyone concerned actually "renounced" Cain's supposed prophetic gifting even then. He has lately made something of a comeback.)

As long as Reformed charismatics justify the practice of encouraging people to proclaim "prophecies" that are unverified and unverifiable—and which frequently prove to be wrong—I'll stand by the concern I expressed: even the very best of charismatics sometimes foster unwarranted and unreasonable gullibility, and gullibility about whether God has really spoken or not is seriously dangerous.

When a false belief is truly dangerous and comes replete with the kind of long and dismal track record extrabiblical revelation brings with it, it's not "uncharitable" for those who see the danger and are truly concerned about it to sound a warning rather than humming a gentle lullaby.

My charismatic friend, Dr. Warnock, insists that I have been uncharitable because I have stated my opinion about the dangers of charismatic doctrine without explicitly exempting him and others whom he likes from my warning against gullibility. It makes him "uncomfortable" to read such things on our blog as often as we post them (even though the vast majority of our recent posts on the charismatic issue have actually been made at his behest).

I have to say in reply that his appeal to how our posts make him feel, while he declines to give any rational or reasonable explanation for why he thinks our candor must be motivated by a lack of charity, is an echo of the very tendency that I think is so dangerous in the charismatic mindset.

I do realize some people are uncomfortable with such a firm stance against the charismatic position. I'm equally uncomfortable with the charismatic position itself. Let's both remember that our respective comfort levels are not a reliable gauge of our brothers' charity (or lack thereof), and let's try to focus on the actual issue under discussion.

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