Opportunity to help a faithful brother: Ed Komoszewski

by Dan Phillips

You may or may not instantly recognize — much less be able to vocalize — the name Ed Komozsewski. As to the latter, it is pronounced comm-ah-CHEFF-skee.

As to the former, Ed has brought us several books including his byline, of which I reviewed and recommended one called Reinventing Jesus some time ago. If you read it, you profited by it; it's quite a good book.

But also if you have read and profited from The World-Tilting Gospel, published by Kregel, you have Ed to thank. Ed is the man who sold Kregel on taking a chance on unpublished me and my baby, and helped nurse it and me through the process. Valerie and I have had the pleasure of meeting and dining with him, as well as a continued occasional correspondence.

What you pretty surely do not know is that Ed has been very, very ill for some time. His medical bills have become unmanageable, his health continues to decline, and his needs deepen.

I'd like to encourage you to help the brother out at this GoFundMe site. You will find there much more explanation from scholars Dan Wallace and Rob Bowman.

I'll let you read the details at that site. Ed's a good brother, and I hope you'll help him and his family out.

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The First Order of Business

by Frank Turk

I am posting excerpts from my talk at the "Call to Discernment" conference last weekend since DJP feels a little dry this week.  You can hear the full audio for my talk, or any of the talks, when they all go live.  I'll post the link here.

Today is Thursday, so keep it between the ditches.

We continue in Mat 16:

Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! [He says] For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven.  And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.

That’s quite a declaration from Jesus.  He started with what looked like some sort of opinion poll or a survey of ideas about what it is that was happening as he was going around with these fellows teaching, and he changes the discussion from what everyone is expecting from Jesus to what God Himself is doing, and is about to do, through Jesus.

See: Jesus did not come to appeal to flesh and blood, or to fulfill the desires of our flesh and blood: Jesus came to do what God Himself wants accomplished.  Those who see it, says Jesus, are “on a rock” – like Simon who is the first to say it out loud. This is plainly a reference back to the parable in Matthew 7 -- the wise man and the foolish man, yes?  The foolish man built his house upon the sand; the wise man built his house upon the rock – and the rain came tumbling down.  Right? This is the end of the sermon on the mount -- “the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock.”  So on the same rock which caused Simon to declare Jesus to be the Christ and not merely a prophet, Christ himself will build what he calls “my church” – and the Gates of Hell shall not prevail against it.

Jesus has set up the priority of things carefully here, contrasting what “everyone” thinks against what the Disciples think about himself.  But as soon as He gets the right answer, Jesus draws a conclusion: Since I am the Messiah, the Christ, I will build my church on the rock of faith which God has given.  That’s the first conclusion Jesus draws about the priority of things – in this passage anyway: Since there is a Christ, there must be a Church.

When I say that, it will upset a lot of people.  Some people will say, “But Jesus is here speaking about the universal church, or the invisible church – the set of people from Adam to the last person saved in Revelation – and that is as broad as the scope of the cross-work of Christ.”  The reason they do this is simple: they read Jesus here to be saying, “I will build a church in general, with an indeterminate number in it.”  That's an orthodox reading of this statement, and one which I agree with.

But there is something there which I think we also want from this passage: nobody wants Jesus to do anything which offends.  We want Jesus to be saying things which are inviting only, and not in any way intimidating or putting demands on us.  And let’s face it: it’s easier on us if we think the church is merely an indeterminate and disembodied set of people because that means there’s nobody in particular in that church.

I think Jesus is making a different point here.

We must see that Christ is not saying this to the wind, or writing it in a manifesto as a claim for the ages to people not yet in evidence.  He’s saying it to the disciples who are right here, right now, in front of him.  This fellow here? He is Simon Peter.  He’s standing on the rock of faith Jesus was talking about back on the hillside.  And what he’s got is what Jesus will build his church on.

This gets buried behind our English word “church.”  In Greek, it is the word “ecclesia.”  Most of you have heard that before, I am sure.  The word means “an assembly,” or “a group called together for a common purpose.”  It is not a word like “citizen” – although Christians are called “citizens” elsewhere in the Bible.  A “citizen” can be in a place but not of a place – or at the same time, they can be an American, but present in Canada or Mexico or China.  To be a “citizen” is to be a class of person without regard to your current whereabouts.  People being “ecclesia” is not like one person being a “member” – because I can be a member of a political party and never vote and never meet another soul who believes what I believe.

But an “assembly”, a “church” as we translate it: it’s not an association in theory.  It’s an association in person, a coming together in one place.  In an “ecclesia,” people are called out and get this: they come.  Everyone is present.   When the Greeks used this word, they used it to describe a body of people which is called out in public for a purpose of common cause.  I’m working this over for you only to say this: for us to misread Christ here to mean some kind of invisible body only where the people are virtually linked together merely by a mark or a quality entirely misses Jesus’  point.

He’s saying that as the Christ, he’s going to bring a real body of believers together, starting with this fellow Simon Peter.

Christ will build his church – it is the first necessary consequence Jesus tells his Disciples.  This is interesting because Jesus had what we might call a target-rich environment in Judea and Caesarea.  The Romans occupied the land; the religious rulers were corrupt and hypocritical; the standard of living, let’s face is, was, to say the least, impoverished – and Jesus was the Messiah.  He could have said anything as the first order of business:

“Flesh and Blood did not declare this to you Peter, and because of your faith I will rain my wrath down on Caesar, after whom Caesarea Phillipi is blasphemously named.”

“Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah – and to show you my power as Messiah, bring the Scribes and Pharisees as my enemies before me so that I may lay them under my footstool!”

“Upon your faith, Simon, I claim healing upon the whole land, and wealth, and prosperity, and good marriages!”

But No: the first order of business was to declare that as Christ, he must have his Church.  He must have the people who have faith in Him, built upon the rock which cannot be shaken.

Therefore, when we ask the question “what is the church?” we can make our definition of the church using Jesus’ term:  “The Church is that which Christ builds, on the basis of real faith in him, in real people like Peter.”

“The Church is that which Christ builds, on the basis of real faith in him, in real people like Peter.”

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What's in a few names?

by Dan Phillips

Last Sunday's sermon featured the exposition of Titus 3:12-15. Here's my translation, sans footnotes:

When I send Artemas to you, or Tychicus, be diligent to come to me in Nicopolis, for I have decided to spend the winter there. ¹³ Diligently help send Zenas the legal expert and Apollos on their way, in order that nothing may be lacking for them. ¹⁴ And also our own people must learn to take the lead in good works, for the pressing needs, in order that they might not be unfruitful. ¹⁵ All those who are with me greet you. Greet those who are fond of us in the faith. Grace be with all of you.

Understandably, many would look at that as slim pickings for a whole sermon; but I managed. How well is for God and others to judge.

But one of the things that struck me was implicit in the section. The fellows Paul mentions in verse 12 were named Artemas and Tychicus. Not only are those Greek names, they're really pagan Greek names. They don't mean Lemon and Bumblebee, or nothing; "Artemas" is the masculine form of Artemis, as in Artemis [Diana] of the Ephesians. And "Tychicus" means "Lucky," as in a universe ruled by chance.

Yet one of these two — Diana-Man or Lucky — was going to be Titus' replacement heading up the Cretan mission. Paul, nearing the end of his life, was sending one or the other of these two pagan-named Gentiles to take over for Titus the Gentile in this mission. The future of Christ's church would be in their hands, under God.

And who brought the letter to Titus? Two more pagan-named guys. "Zenas" (short for "gift of Zeus") and Apollos, a Jew who somehow was saddled with yet another pagan name. One an expert in Roman law, the other an expert in God's law. Paul trusted this letter to them, and urged Titus to be sure they had all they needed.

In the sermon, I make a good bit of this. While Jesus instantaneously did everything necessary to effect reconciliation between formerly warring ethnicities (Eph. 2:11-22), the process of working this out took a whole lot longer. In fact, it isn't done yet.

But what Paul did was talk a lot about it, go to jail for it, and model it. He did the latter by surrounding himself with men like these — not just saying "Yeah, boy, the Body of Christ really should model reconciliation," but doing it. Investing himself in such folks, training them, giving them positions of visibility and responsibility, expressing full confidence in them, and letting them loose.

If you like, give the sermon a listen. I develop that at great length, take a sally at Biblical decision-making vs. Blackabism, and a whole lot more.

Titus is a very underappreciated and underpreached book. I've really enjoyed it.

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Initial Houston thoughts

by Dan Phillips

In the months and weeks leading up to this massive, major change, Valerie and others would say how happy I must be, how excited I must be, and all that. Those were totally realistic expectations. Any normal person would have been.

And then there's me.

I was more tense, apprehensive, overloaded, and did I say "tense"? I was glad of the possibilities, but most of what I could see were the details and the uncontrollables and the unpredictable-but-criticals and my own endless limitations and failings. I said I would probably start feeling after I got here.

And that has indeed been the case. This ministry started off at a brisk pace. In general, of course, there's everything in the world to learn, and I naturally want to learn it all at once. One of the elders asked if he could do anything for me. "Yes you can," I answered. "Download everything you know about this church, and all your experiences, directly into my brain." Sadly, he was unable to comply.

More specifically, one of the dear souls I'd looked forward to getting to know better was in the hospital and not doing well. So I spent a few hours with him on my first day, and then when the next day his health trajectory seemed grim, I spent some time with his wife. The following day, sadly, he died. Thus followed ministry to his wife (in which, once again, this loving church stepped right up) and family, and the planning of the funeral — the first I've conducted in over 25 years.

Once again, this church came through, with many taking time off work to come, help, sing, assemble a choir, and show love for the deceased and his wife.

Back to the larger picture: At the same time, this dear church family had greeted us so warmly and affectionately that it was simply overwhelming. Plus I had the wonderful prospect of my dear friend Frank and his terrific wife and kids coming into town, and the whole joy of the installation service. But each day started at oh-dark-thirty and ended in the 11-12+ range.

Now, in my previous job, I doggedly resisted overtime. I was happy to leave IT work at the building. Now I'm putting in long long days, and absolutely loving it. I am so grateful, glad, joyous, challenged, charged, out-of-my-depth, blessed, and hopeful. It is terrific. (Of course, I'm going to have to work to balance the schedule to allow for family-time, so thank God that both my family and our church understands.)

The installation service was a real blessing to me. First, Dr. Paul Shockley, the most frequent interim preacher as CBC searched for a pastor, gave a charge to the congregation and to me. It was very gracious, and very moving to me. Then the one and only Frank Turk held forth, also pretty wonderful (as you already know).

I found myself tussling with tears more than once. And when it was my turn to preach, I had to catch myself at the first step, fight back the tears, get a grip, and get on with it. The sermon was (relatively) brief and a joy to present to this gracious, responsive assembly of saints. Afterwards, we enjoyed a fellowship meal (pot luck) together, as I continued to flog new names into my memory.

Aside: One of the coolest things? Not trying to say everything that could be said about 2 Tim. 4:1-5 in one sermon, but instead remarking "we may well revisit this later." Understand, for the last fourteen years or so, my preaching has as a rule been dozens of delightful one-offs and two-offs and conferences here and there. No continuity. But now, God willing, I'm going to be here for a good long while. I don't have to try to say everything in this sermon — because, Deo volente, there's next week! And the next! Or I can start a study! Or two! Or five!

It is very, very cool.

I'm only scratching the surface of what life here has been. These folks are being such a joy to get to know, and so is the area. Tuesday night, a brother was telling me about the major intersection just down the street from the church. It's full of all sorts of stores now, including Target and what-not. But in the seventies, he used to hunt coyotes and wolves there, and receive a bounty for them. Just cool.

And where else can you have a church-member visibly wearing a pistol say "I've got a bone to pick with you," and not break out in a sweat?

I am loving it here.

Thanks again to all who have prayed for an opportunity like this.

Please don't stop, now that it's here.

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What to do with a mass of credible critics?

by Dan Phillips

Honestly, it seems as if one of Mark Driscoll's favorite things is painting himself as a brave, noble, but beleaguered victim of mean old bullies. I that same theme here and there.

Well, Driscoll's at it again. Or should I say he never stopped? Frankly, I don't read him enough to know. But he's striking the pose of the weathered, grizzled, seasoned old veteran of countless conflicts, putting down his tankard for a moment to spare some advice with a green, fresh-faced young'un.

"Sorry, man. I get it," Driscoll rasps; you can almost see him fingering the long virtual scars criss-crossing his neck.

The title is "What To Do With Internutters." It's a pinch north of 630 words, but I can summarize it in two: ignore them. Don't listen to a word. Don't respond, don't make eye-contact. Hire a lawyer to write mean, threatening lawyer-letters, or get a court-order, if you want. (Seriously; Driscoll says that a couple of times.)

Now, I think my main problem with the article is that Driscoll is not very specific about who he's calling "internutters." About as close as he gets to a description is that his young protégé was subjected to "someone who had become quite a vocal critic all over the Internet and in relationships with church members, making wildly unfounded accusations and creating a lot of additional work."

We'll all agree that "wildly unfounded accusations" are bad things. No one should make them. We here at Pyro totally believe that. And I'll say (no snark) that I don't have Driscoll's experience dealing with... well, actually I have dealt with a number of nutters. But I'm sure not as many as he, nor as publicly. I'm an immensely smaller fish.

However, I'm not sure it's wise not to answer even "nutters" at least once, if you can. Of course, some accusations are pretty tough to answer. As I mention in a very different connection over at my place, it's awfully hard to prove a negative, for instance. "You constantly beat your wife in a way that leaves neither bruises nor witnesses" would be a difficult charge to refute. Or a post hoc charge with a deft propter hoc (e.g. "Pastor X counseled Y, who then did Z — because of the pastor's counsel!").

Phil Johnson, on the other hand, has dealt with many, many gen-u-ine nutters over the years. I'd be interested to hear his thoughts on that subject.

But let's say the "nutters" are saying truthful, Scriptural, sober things, well-founded in both reality and evidence.Well then, they're not actually "nutters," are they? For instance, I hear and read "bloggers" used in the same tone as "nutters," as if they're interchangeables. They're not. Ironically, most of the people who speak dismissively of "bloggers" and dismiss the whole lot of them tend to be ones who have received valid reproof they haven't liked.

Further complicating my exegesis of Driscoll is the fact that I have seen him speak exactly as dismissively of men who tried hard to bring sound, sober, fact-based/Scripture-based concerns to his attention.

So those who offer such criticism and rebuke cannot so easily be brushed off as "nutters." I mean, say — just to pluck an example out of the ether — you are a well-known pastor who has a pronounced tendency to say disgraceful things from pulpits over and over and over again, over a period of years. And say serious believers try again and again to call you to repent and forsake such abuse of the pulpit.

See now, that's a different situation, isn't it? To call such folks "nutters," dismiss their reproof as "wildly unfounded," declare that you won't dignify them with a response, and try to strike a noble pose... well, that wouldn't be very adorning to the Gospel, I would think. You know, I've heard what is allegedly an Irish proverb to this effect: "When everyone says you're drunk, sit down."

It's not always simple, though, and I don't mean imply that it is. The majority can be dead-wrong. Solid-gold Christian leaders, whose ESV Study Bibles you're genuinely not worthy to ferry about, can make mistakes. There's still constant need to judicious discernment, to focus on facts and Scripture.

But to Driscoll's opinions, I'd offer these cautionary Scriptural counterpoints:

1. Never forget: if it's a sin, you're capable of it (Romans 7:13-23).
2. If you have sinned, you do not want to be the last to know it (Proverbs 29:1).
3. Denial is not a remedy for sin or folly (Proverbs 28:13). In fact...
4. Denial is the way to destruction (Proverbs 29:1).
5. Hating critics is the mark of a fool (Proverbs 9:8a; 17:12).
6. It is the characteristic of the wise man to welcome and heed wise, godly correction (Psalm 141:5; Proverbs 9:9b-10).
7. The way to mercy lies through self-humbling, accepting rebuke, repenting and forsaking (Proverbs 10:17; 11:2; 12:1; 14:33; 18:12; 28:13).

God grant us ears to hear, wisdom to discern, and humility to apply. Because it isn't easy nor simple.

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That Looks Really Easy; Why don't You Tell Me how to Do It?

by Phil Johnson



     get this kind of question all the time, so I figured if I blogged an answer, I could just post a link instead of writing a whole new answer every time this comes up:

Dear Phil, I've heard that you turn transcripts of John MacArthur's sermons into book manuscripts. Can you summarize what is involved in the process and give me a few pointers on how to do it? I've never done anything like that, but it doesn't sound difficult, and I want to help my pastor in my spare time. His sermons are a real blessing to our congregation, very meaty. But he doesn't have anything in print yet and doesn't have time to write. I figure I can get his transcripts ready for printing in book form, and he can just keep preaching. Is there a book or course somewhere that explains how to do this? Or can you just outline what's involved for me? I'm a fast learner and I'm pretty sure I'll be able to do this, especially since he has already basically done all the creative work and compiled the content already. I figure the hardest part is transcribing the message accurately. Am I right? I don't want to take a lot of your time, but if you could just spend 5 minutes and give me your best pointers, I would appreciate it. So would my pastor, I'm sure.

Thanks for your message. I don't think there's any way to explain in an e-mail message all that is involved in turning sermon transcripts into published prose. It's like playing the piano or being any other kind of artist: while you can teach almost anyone the bare-bones basics, a very large part of the skill set necessary for doing it superbly or professionally is inborn talent, not something that's teachable (or even explainable). All the best editors I know didn't go to school or take a course to learn what they know; they just have a natural gift for the work, and they intuitively know what to do. Even so, all of them would tell you it is grueling work, not for the fainthearted.

Furthermore, most pastors' sermons shouldn't be turned into print form. Sermons lose something important in the process, and even the greatest preaching in the world doesn't easily translate into great writing. (And unless you are already a superbly gifted writer, no matter how great the original material is, you'll never be able to translate it into writing in a way that equals its original greatness.) Preaching is very different from writing, and unless the sermon itself is very fertile with important thoughts and profound insights, it's probably not going to make a viable book anyway. Tell the average Christian publisher that you want to make a book out of a sermon series, and unless you are a preacher with worldwide fame and a following of untold thousands, the publisher isn't likely to be interested anyway, no matter how much the people in that pastor's flock appreciated the sermon series. Sermon series made into books don't generally do very well. There are exceptions, but few.

And even if you're working with some of the greatest sermons ever preached (something I have the wonderful privilege of doing) the labor involved in turning transcripts into prose for publication is quite literally a full-time job—and not a job I would recommend to anyone who can't devote everything to the task. Far more creative energy and ability is required than you could possibly imagine. It is literally harder and more time-consuming to translate someone else's sermons into written prose than it would be to write your own material from scratch. If you're dealing with John MacArthur's sermons, his material will certainly be better than if you wrote your own, but it's still no less work.

Moreover, if I were the world's greatest editor looking for freelance work, I would not propose to edit any preacher's material for publication unless some publisher is already demanding specific works from that preacher. If there's no up-front assurance that what you do will be published, I don't think it's a wise stewardship of your time and energies to do the massive amount of necessary work.

I'm sorry if that sounds discouraging, but I want to be totally candid with you. In short, my advice is this: I gather from what you say that you have no background or training for the work you are describing—and if that's true, my best advice is to look for a ministry that gives you an opportunity to do something you already know how to do well. But even if you are a highly skilled and experienced editor, you shouldn't do what you are proposing at all unless you have the opportunity to work on a project that has already been embraced and committed to by a legitimate publisher. There are many more profitable ways to invest your gifts and energies—and still be a support and encouragement to your pastor.

NOTE: I was called to task in the comment thread (below) for the sound-and-feel of my reply to this inquirer. On re-reading it, I do understand the critics' complaint. But let me explain. COMPLAINT: "the inquirer knows no more about the work he thinks he would like to do than when he typed the e-mail." Well, if he actually read my reply, he should know more. When he typed the e-mail, he wrote, "I've never done anything like that, but it doesn't sound difficult." I told him it is difficult, and that if he has zero experience but thinks this will be a snap, it probably isn't going to be a good career choice for him. (BTW, I didn't reveal details about who wrote that letter, and I didn't quote all of his letter, but he's not some 7-year-old kid looking for a mentor; he's a person on the precipice of mid-life crisis looking for a career change, hoping to get into something easier and more lucrative than he is currently doing. If you re-read the portion of his message I did quote, it contains several clues suggesting that book editing is not going to be a field in which he will excel.) I stand by my advice to that fellow. I'm sorry if it sounded abrasive. (I confess that I do have that problem sometimes.) But I still think it was the right advice for this guy, and for the vast majority of people who are halfway to retirement age and have "never done anything like that, but [think] it doesn't sound very difficult." I have mentored a number of people who became editors and/or writers, and several of them are still working either full time or free-lance in the publishing industry. All of them were college age or slightly older when they started, and they all clearly had an aptitude for the work before they learned anything from me. As for publishing sermons in book form, it would be interesting to see a list of pastors who have been successful in getting material published in book form (not self-published) by having someone edit their sermons for them. I think the ratio of failures to attempts would more than vindicate my pessimism about such ventures. Anyway, I'm amazed this e-mail stirred such passion, but I appreciate the feedback, and I'll try to do better.

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Peanut-butter Passion

by Phil Johnson

'm a passionate person. People who know me will affirm that. I think Christians ought to be passionate about truth, passionate in our love for God and for one another, and (above all) passionate about the glory of God.

But raw passion is not the point. Passion is valid and edifies only when it's the right kind of passion, based on legitimate affections for the right things. I'm concerned about the unbridled passions frequently turned loose by people whose only religious affections were cultivated in evangelical youth groups. (And if I can speak freely: that includes a lot of of our so-called young, restless, and Reformed frends.) Everything seems to unleash stadium-style passions. I've even seen people scream, whistle, stomp, and cheer at baptisms, as if they were celebrating a touchdown. Many Christians glorify passion for passion's sake—as if raw passion per se were something praiseworthy and deeply spiritual. It's not. And this has become a serious problem in today's post-pentecostal, post-evangelical, anything-goes era.

The problem is exacerbated by the fact that so many Christians imitate all the world's passions. Christian leaders invent gimmicks to try to win worldly people by appealing to their worldly passions. All of us devote energy and emotion to things that are not even worthy of our attention. And then we bring our addiction to raw passion into our corporate gatherings. We do things to stir artificial passions—which is a form of false worship, no better than idolatry, really.

Our passions should not need to be artificially stirred up by spiritual cheerleaders and team chants. We shouldn't have to be worked into an emotional state by melodrama and musical manipulation. If we can get pumped to a fever pitch by some preacher's antics rather than by the truth of the biblical message, then whatever we are feeling isn't even a legitimate passion in the first place.

And sometimes it gets even worse than that.

Someone a few months ago sent me this article about a youth leader who likes to provoke his students to a state of screaming enthusiasm with gross-out games. (Warning: the article itself and the other links in the following paragraph are extremely gross. Home-school moms might want to look away.) The article describes how this youth leader had a teenager with hairy armpits smear gobs of peanut butter on his underarms; then the youth pastor asked for volunteers to lick it clean and swallow the peanut butter. The youth leader uses skits like that to "shock and astound." (Those are his exact words.) He told that secular reporter that he does things like that all the time to get the students excited, so that they will talk about the church. He says he wants to start "a buzz that [will] go viral, [so] that teens [will] text and Twitter about [it]." And notice what the youth leader said about his strategy: "The idea is to get students here to meet our Savior. They are getting all this crazy stuff out there in the world all the time. We are trying to show them that God is cooler."

You may think that's an extreme, one-of-a-kind example, but that type of thing is far more common than you think. It illustrates rather vividly the foolishness of trying to stir artificial passions by making God seem "cool" rather than simply uplifting His glory and letting the grandeur and majesty of our God move people's hearts to more legitimate expressions of deep passion.



That sort of artificial enthusiasm actually hinders (and in some cases totally nullifies) the message we're supposed to be proclaiming. With so many churches merely trying to entertain people, or lull them into a state of self-satisfaction, or simply gross them out, it's no wonder the world is not being won to Christ but actually becoming steadily more hostile to Christianity.

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On the distasteful necessity of theological controversy

by Phil Johnson

nthony Trollope was a Victorian novelist whose output and popularity rivaled Dickens. His books aren't as well known today as the Dickens classics, but they are still easily available and Trollope still has a passionate following.

Trollope grew up in a poor but aristocratic family. His father, though related to the landed gentry, failed at practically everything he ever attempted. In later years Anthony's mother, Frances Trollope, scored some remarkable successes as a writer (achieving fame but not much critical acclaim with Domestic Manners of the Americans [1832] and several novels). But her earnings were not enough to overcome her husband's failures, and the family ultimately fled to Belgium so that Anthony's father could avoid debtors' prison.

The incongruity between his family's rank in society and their standard of living contributed much to the themes of Anthony Trollope's novels.

Many of those novels (most notably his best-known series, The Chronicles of Barsetshire) focused on the internal politics and doctrinal disparity within the Anglian church—high vs. low churchmen; evangelicals vs. Puseyites; and youth vs. experience. Trollope's sympathies clearly lay with the high church, anti-evangelical, traditionalist parties. (He was plainly no fan of Charles Spurgeon. He loved to lampoon evangelicals, including those within the established church as well as the nonconformists.) So in all candor I don't share Trollope's theological perspective and rarely appreciate his satirical commentary on ecclesiastical matters. Unfortunately for me, his novels are full of those themes.

But I admire his style of writing and his ability to make even his most outlandish caricatures seem real and living. He also had an uncanny knack for bringing common sense to bear against popular opinion, and at times—even while disagreeing with his fundamental perspective—I find myself in awe of his logic.

Here's a passage I especially resonated with from Barchester Towers. Eleanor Bold is conversing with Mr. Arabin, a vicar:

"I never saw anything like you clergymen," said Eleanor; "You are always thinking of fighting each other." "Either that," said he, "or else supporting each other. The pity is that we cannot do the one without the other. But are we not here to fight? Is not ours a church militant? What is all our work but fighting, and hard fighting, if it be well done?" "But not with each other." "That's as it may be. The same complaint which you make of me for battling with another clergyman of our own church, the Mohammedan would make against me for battling with the error of a priest of Rome. Yet, surely, you would not be inclined to say that I should be wrong to do battle with such as him. A pagan, too, with his multiplicity of gods, would think it equally odd that the Christian and the Mohammedan should disagree." "Ah! But you wage your wars about trifles so bitterly." "Wars about trifles," said he, "are always bitter, especially among neighbours. When the differences are great, and the parties comparative strangers, men quarrel with courtesy. What combatants are ever so eager as two brothers?" "But do not such contentions bring scandal on the church?" "More scandal would fall on the church if there were no such contentions. . . ." Then he continued: "What you say is partly true: our contentions do bring on us some scandal. The outer world, though it constantly reviles us for our human infirmities and throws in our teeth the fact that being clergymen we are still no more than men, demands of us that we should do our work with godlike perfection. There is nothing god-like about us: we differ from each other with the acerbity common to man; we triumph over each other with human frailty; we allow differences on subjects of divine origin to produce among us antipathies and enmities which are anything but divine. This is all true. But what would you have in place of it? There is no infallible head for a church on earth. This dream of believing man has been tried, and we see in Italy and in Spain what has come of it. Grant that there are and have been no bickerings within the pale of the Pope's Church. Such an assumption would be utterly untrue, but let us grant it, and then let us say which church has incurred the heavier scandals." . . . . . . . . . . "It is so easy to condemn," said he, continuing the thread of his thoughts. "I know no life that must be so delicious as that of a writer for newspapers, or a leading member of the opposition—to thunder forth accusations against men in power; to show up the worst side of everything that is produced; to pick holes in every coat; to be indignant, sarcastic, jocose, moral, or supercilious; to damn with faint praise, or crush with open calumny! What can be so easy as this when the critic has to be responsible for nothing? You condemn what I do, but put yourself in my position and do the reverse, and then see if I cannot condemn you." "Oh, Mr. Arabin, I do not condemn you." "Pardon me, you do, Mrs. Bold—you as one of the world; you are now the opposition member; you are now composing your leading article, and well and bitterly you do it. 'Let dogs delight to bark and bite'—you fitly begin with an elegant quotation—'but if we are to have a church at all, in heaven's name let the pastors who preside over it keep their hands from each other's throats. Lawyers can live without befouling each other's names; doctors do not fight duels. Why is it that clergymen alone should indulge themselves in such unrestrained liberty of abuse against each other?' and so you go on reviling us for our ungodly quarrels, our sectarian propensities, and scandalous differences. It will, however, give you no trouble to write another article next week in which we, or some of us, shall be twitted with an unseemly apathy in matters of our vocation. It will not fall on you to reconcile the discrepancy; your readers will never ask you how the poor parson is to be urgent in season and out of season and yet never come in contact with men who think widely differently from him. You, when you condemn this foreign treaty, or that official arrangement, will have to incur no blame for the graver faults of any different measure. It is so easy to condemn—and so pleasant too, for eulogy charms no listeners as detraction does."

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The Christian's Priority and Presence: Things We Agree On

by Dan Phillips and Phil Johnson

couple of our readers lately have questioned whether we are really on the same page regarding political activism and the proper place of partisan punditry in Christian ministry. Since Dan has extensively written on elections and political/societal matters at his own blog, and Frank Turk writes a fair amount of social and cultural commentary at his blog, one or two of our commenters wondered if all the members of TeamPyro really do see eye to eye on these matters. Obviously, we each have different emphases and interests we like to write about. Phil likes Bach Cantatas and Dan likes Chicago. Dan collects commentaries and Frank collects comic books. Frank is an expert in marketing and Phil is an expert in editorial matters. Granted, we're an unlikely menagerie of co-authors. But on the issues that really count, we're all on the same page.

Even on the issues of civic activism and "engaging the culture" via the political process? Absolutely.

Let's see if this helps. Here are some things we all agree on from the get-go:

1. Among other things, the Christian is the person who boasts only in the Cross; to whom the world has been crucified, and he to the world (Galatians 6:14).
   
2. The sole unique possession that every Christian has, that all his neighbors most desperately need, is the Gospel (Romans 1:16).
   
3. The Gospel is itself not actions nor outreaches nor programs; the Gospel is a message, communicated in words that express propositional truths (Romans 10:14-17).
   
4. While what we do may at best adorn the Gospel, it must never supplant or eclipse the Gospel (cf. 1 Timothy 2:10; Titus 2:10).
   
5. The message and aim of the gospel is redemption (Galatians 4:5; Titus 2:14) not merely reform.
   
6. The gospel itself is the only instrument of redemption; it "is the power of God unto salvation" (Romans 1:16).
   
7. Gospel and law are not the same, even though they agree at many key points (Luke 16:16; Galatians 3:1-19).
   
8. "Works of the law"—and all other means of adorning the gospel—are non-redemptive (Romans 3:20, 28; Galatians 2:16); they are even damning for those who place their trust in them (Romans 10:1-3; Philippians 3:3); and therefore such things must never be made a higher priority (or given a higher profile) in any Christian ministry than the gospel itself.
   
9. Christians, individually and corporately, are ambassadors for Christ (2 Corinthians 5:20), and like all ambassadors, they must proclaim the message they are given—not a truncated message or a different message of their own choosing.
   
10. The message Christians are given to proclaim to unbelievers is about justification by faith, not social reform through legal means; and it culminates in a plea for sinners to be reconciled to God through Christ (2 Corinthians 5:20-21).
    
11. The primary, distinctive, defining task of the church is to enroll and train students of Christ by the emphatic ministry of the Word (Matthew 28:18-20; 2 Timothy 4:1-4).
    
12. Works of mercy and material help must grow out of that ministry of the Word, must not supplant it, and should first target Christians within the local church body (cf. Acts 2:42-47; 6:2; Galatians 6:10).
    
13. A full-orbed pulpit ministry will eventually touch on everything the Word touches on (Acts 20:27).
    
14. Since the Word touches on every essential area of Christian living, aspects of pulpit ministry can and will touch on every area of a Christian's public life (2 Timothy 3:15-17).
    
15. Individual Christians must pay taxes and respect the institutions of authority in his country (Romans 13:1-7).
    
16. Individual American Christians should take seriously the accountability-factor for their citizenship in a constitutional republic (cf. Luke 12:48).
    
17. Individual Christians are obligated to seek and find how to be good stewards of what God has entrusted them with, in all walks of life (cf. Psalm 24:1; 1 Corinthians 10:31).
    
18. Some of those possible avenues for individual Christians include careers in politics and journalism, other forms of communication, working with pro-life causes and adoption agencies, and with other charitable organizations (cf. Proverbs 10:11; 11:11; 24:11-12; Jeremiah 29:1-9; Galatians 6:10).
    
19. Avenues such as those listed in #18 are perfectly legitimate investments of a Christian's time and energy. However—
    
20. Avenues such as those listed in #18 are no substitute for preaching the Gospel, since only the Gospel meets man's deepest needs, and thus most truly fulfills the commandment to love our neighbor as ourselves.
    
21. If offered an association that requires him to put a basket on his relationship with Jesus Christ, or on the Gospel, an individual Christian should decline (Mark 8:38).
    

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Too much time on my hands?

by Dan Phillips

As PyroManiacs is about to "go dark" for nearly a month, some of our gracious readers find themselves looking at a gap in their routine.

Of course, Frank and yr obdt svt are not vanishing off the face of the earth, we'll both keep the coffee on at our places, and you'll be welcome. But many daily routines will change, if only a bit.

Minor as it is, changes do bring to mind the daily menu of our lives: the agenda of distractions, imposed from without and from within, that pushes minutes to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, months, and years — and, ultimately, impels newborn on towards the grave.

Gulp.

Unless you're God, you've only got so much time. What's the plan? What's the theme? What's the metanarrative of our lives?

Younger readers will nod less enthusiastically than fellow-codgers if I talk about the phenomenon of vanishing years. When you're young, you measure years in halves: "I'm six-and-a-half." But then, you come to the time when it literally seems as if you've scarcely put away the Christmas decorations — and it's time to take them back out again. The year just went by that fast.

Nonetheless we know that a lot of moments went into that passed year. But what went into the moments?

Proverbs raises this issue more than once. Consider this pair:

Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread,
but he who follows worthless pursuits lacks sense. (Proverbs 12:11)

Whoever works his land will have plenty of bread,
but he who follows worthless pursuits will have plenty of poverty (Proverbs 28:19)

In Hebrew, the wording of line A is identical in each; that of line B nearly so — more closely than the ESV shows.

Line A considers a landowner. It is his land, land he owns himself, ultimately entrusted by God into his care. For since all the earth is Yahweh's (cf. Exodus 9:29; Deuteronomy 10:14; Psalm 24:1; 50:12, etc.), every part of the earth is also his. That part you own, therefore, is put in your stewardship by God. It was and remains His; He has loaned it to you. It is to God you and I must answer for what we do with it.

The man in question "works" his land. Solomon uses the verb `bd, which we first encounter in Genesis 2:5 and 15. There the picture is Adam, taking the garden as his first assignment in subduing the earth (cf. 1:26-28). Moses couples `bd ("work") and 'dmh ("ground," "land") in Genesis 2:5, and Solomon echoes that exact same pairing.

So when a farmer works his land, he is participating in God's created design for mankind. Not only does he serve God, he serves himself. "He will be full of bread," Solomon says literally. Not that the land grows loaves of bread, but that it produces that with which the man further labors, and from which he produces bread and all sorts of food. God has graciously ordered creation so that man is the beneficiary of his own labors, in God's service, over God's land.

Line B in each sets up a contrast. Unfortunately, the ESV simply replays the tepid rendering of the RSV, "he who follows worthless pursuits." The Hebrew text is more vivid: identically worded in each, it is "But he who pursues empty things." Solomon envisions a pursuit. It is focused, deliberate, and strenuous. It isn't that the man is aimless. He aims! The problem is his target: it is hollow, empty, insubstantial, unproductive.

The earth is potentially productive and pregnant and, if worked, will produce food. What this man chases after may be pretty, but it is hollow, and produces nothing — or, rather, nothing he wants.

In 12:11 the foolish man himself is characterized; in 28:19 it is his harvest. The man (we are told) is "short on brains." In fact, Solomon takes us on a tour of this man's field in 24:30-34 —

I passed by the field of a sluggard,
by the vineyard of a man lacking sense ["short on brains"],
31 and behold, it was all overgrown with thorns;
the ground was covered with nettles,
and its stone wall was broken down.
32 Then I saw and considered it;
I looked and received instruction.
33 A little sleep, a little slumber,
a little folding of the hands to rest,
34 and poverty will come upon you like a robber,
and want like an armed man.

This vignette actually combines the thoughts of both 12:11 and 28:19. The man actually owns a field. However, sadly, he is "short on brains," so instead of working his land and being filled with bread, he lets it go (while he pursues empty things) — and is full... of poverty.

Now as we prepare to turn out the lights for a few weeks, I leave you with a few provocative questions.

What "land" has God entrusted to you? Are you working it? Are you working it wisely, and towards a definite end? Or are you pursuing empty things?

Pastor, are you plowing up the rocks, and plucking the weeds in your fellowship? That is, do you reprove, rebuke and exhort with all patience and doctrine (2 Timothy 4:2b)? Do you show false teachers the door after a first and second warning (Titus 3:10-11)? Above all, do you richly sow the Word (2 Timothy 4:2a), so that the word of Christ richly indwells your fellowship (Colossians 3:16)?

Or have you listed to the siren call of the marketers, and started "beefing up" you worship with crunchy, insubstantial vanities, "pursuing" horizontal popularity at the cost of vertical infamy?



Christian, do you do this for your own soul? Do you test yourself (2 Corinthians 13:5), accept reproof (Proverbs 12:1), fill your heart with the Word of God (Psalm 1)? Do you do something with the Word? Or are you a well-known expert at fluffy nothings?

Parents, do you do this for your children, finding creative ways to saturate their home life with God's self-revelation out of full-out love for Him (Deuteronomy 6:5ff.)? Or is "peace and quiet," and "happy" kids, your sole aim?

These are just the lightest touch of implications we can draw on this subject. Plus, we can gain yet more wisdom and perspective on this by marrying Solomon's wisdom, as expressed both here and in another of his writings, with the Christ-centered perspective of Paul:

Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might, for there is no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom in Sheol, to which you are going (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil (2 Corinthians 5:10)

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58)

This is an approach to life that sees it not as a mere rehearsal, but as a passing and pivotal arena. As far as we know, we shall never again have the opportunity to serve God on the battlefield. This world is not our home. We must work our fields with an eye to Christ, His judgment seat, and His kingdom.

Amen.

Let's work the land God gave us.

See you at my blog, then back here on October 31, Lord willing.

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Witnessing: mess-ups, regrets, pastoral leadership

by Dan Phillips

I was thinking of creating a new Pyro tag: "Regrets." By year's end, many posts would bear that tag (also retroactively), most of them carrying the same byline.

One would come from last Friday. I saw a movie, and was wedged in next to a dad and his daughter. Chatting with him afterwards, I completely bobbled an opportunity to talk with him expressly about Christ. We came close, touched on related subjects; but "close" doesn't count, and there really isn't any good reason for it. (I'm forcing myself to tell you this.)

It may not have been a golden opportunity, like Philip and the eunuch. But it was certainly silver, and it was certainly an opportunity, and I certainly botched it.

But that was the only time I've messed up like that.

{Soundtrack: gales of laughter}

But seriously, I think of another time. This was decades ago, and I was a brand-new Christian. I was eager to share Christ at every opportunity. This time, I was talking with a neighbor lady. She asked me some questions, I forget what. I responded that I didn't know all the answers, but I knew One who did.

Then she asked me what my parents thought of my pastor. I thought it an abrupt change of topic, but I went with it. There was more conversation along that line, then that was it.

I eventually muzzily realized that it wasn't a change of topic — to her. Unable to see the capitalization in my head, she thought that "the One" who I believed had all the answers was my pastor. She didn't get that I was talking about Jesus. Ungh. Thirty-five years later, I still regret my obtuseness.

These are just two of many such stories I could tell.

Why am I telling you this? Three reasons.

One, it's an exercise of that transparency-thing we talked about a while back. Leading to...

Two, it's also sort of a conscience thing. I know I've shared conversations where I (allege that I) have let fly some witty or devastating remark. I also know that readers might have the impression that Phil, Frank, and I never mess up, never are flummoxed, never botch opportunities, never make fools of ourselves, never are like trout on flat, dry rocks, our mouths opening and closing but nothing of any value coming out.

Now, I'm right there with you about Frank and Phil. But conscience constrains me to tell you that for every sparkling or (suitably) withering remark I've made (and relayed to you, Gentle Reader), there are at least a dozen or two... er... less-stellar moments. Times when I've had not one clue what to say, or have said the wrong thing. Times I came on inappropriately strong and heavy-handed, or let ripe opportunities slip altogether, because I was afraid of coming on too strong or heavy-handed.

I don't want to be perceived like a pastor I know of, who I've virtually never heard tell a story that didn't make everyone else look like idiots, and himself like a brilliant, holy sage. I like talking about those times when I've found le bon mot, because they were rare treats on a pretty dismal landscape. But honesty compels me to mention the other times, as well.

If that encourages you — and I hope it does — be encouraged. Leading to...

Three, I'm thinking ahead to pastoral leadership in evangelism. I'm thinking how I would feel a terrible hypocrite if I tried to press anyone else to do anything I'd not done myself. How I can't reproach truckers, security guards, bookstore clerks, or everyone else for not witnessing to folks when I hadn't done as I should myself.

And I'm thinking that part of the solution will be going out and doing it with the folks — even as I did with my first church, a hundred years ago.

And I'm thinking that that means that my sheep — who I hope will be able to find in me some kind of example such as the Lord calls pastors to be in 1 Timothy 4:12, Titus 2:7, and 1 Peter 5:3 — will see me stumped, they'll see me flummoxed, they'll see me give lame answers (or none at all), they'll see me mess up one way or another. They'll find that what I already will have told them was true: I'm not a prophet, not Pope Pinhead XIV, not always able to give the perfect magisterial, sagacious Word From Above on everything.

And I'm thinking I'm going to have to be A-OK with that.

And so will they.

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At least the comments are open ...

by Frank Turk

Dan has publicly poked me about being less that posty this week at TeamPyro, so this is what you get. Almost TWO WEEKS ago I started a series on church and government, beginning with the difference between corporate responsibility and personal responsibility, and then speaking VERY briefly (and I would suggest too briefly) to the question of what the New Testament says about the church speaking to Government.

There are other examples which I have considered to enhance the bibleliness of my case here – for example, Jeremiah who wholly-criticized the synergism of his day between the ones working in the temple and those working in the world (especially the idolaters); I considered thinking about Jesus and Pilate, with the looming phrase from Christ to the Roman governor, “My kingdom is not of this world . . . my kingdom is not from the world”.

But what I am going to consider, instead, is a question I left off with last time: given our system of government – a republic with free voting rights for citizens – don’t Christians have a different playing field than the first-century church had? Shouldn’t we do things about abortion and education and the definition of marriage because in some way we are the government and we know better?

I am going to say this in a very ponderous way, and it is not meant to talk down to anyone. But what I don’t want is to skip any of the calculus we have to employ to get the answer I would suggest.

[1] There is no question that every citizen of our country ought to vote when they have the opportunity.

[2] Among those citizens, (those who fear being yoked to Belial notwithstanding) Christians especially ought to vote – and vote conscienciously, having been informed by the Scripture about the world we live in.

This, now, is where the matter gets sticky – because we don’t want to bifurcate our lives. We don’t want to put our faith in God in a private prayer closet and our political reasoning, safely shielded from our personal preferences, in the public square. We want to live as people who are redeemed by the blood of Christ who are being sanctified by His word.

So:

[3] We must use sound Scriptural reasoning, something robustly Trinitarian, when we step into the public square – and not merely fight as though were conventional political partisans. Because we know the truth is this: we are sojourners. Right? We ought to desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God will not be ashamed to be called our God, for he has prepared for us a city.

There’s a post in there someplace for young men who want to redeem “the world” using “the church”, but I leave it for another day, and for them to find it for now.

For us, the middle-aged people with something to lose (for good and for ill), let me say this: we have to choose whether we are more concerned about either the way unbelievers act, or the way they will be saved.

There is no question that Scripture obligates Government to punish the evil-doer – but it does so by conceding that even the unbeliever can see the broad strokes of justice (which is established by God) in the created order. But the church is established to do something greater than the civil law.

For example, one of the problems as I see it with the church in politics today is that “gay marriage” is an issue. While every culture has some form of marriage arrangement (see: Romans 2 – even the unbeliever can see some kind of ordained order in creation), the Western view of marriage is founded on the Scriptural principles that God has made man for woman and woman for man, and that when they are joined together, they must not be torn apart.

It is a Church principle which the Government has recognized.

Our problem today is 2-fold. In the first place the church has frankly abdicated its role in being the minister of this command from God – through many things, but specifically through being very care-free about divorce even though God hates divorce. We don’t raise our children to hate divorce, do we? I wonder why ...

In the second place, since the church has abdicated its role in being the standard-bearer for marriage, we have foisted that role onto the government – making the question one only of law and of voter preference and not one of transcendent order.

So when we go back to the public square with, “but God didn’t create marriage for two guys or two girls – God created marriage to be between a man and a woman and the government should enforce that,” the rightly-reasoned response from our opponents is, “this is a matter of political rights, not religion (because look at you: you people don’t take your own scriptures seriously about marriage because you divorce) – and I don’t believe in your ‘God’ anyway.”

Because the church has given the state the responsibility to administer marriage, its ability to minister the blessing of marriage is in ruins.

And in the end, we are seeking to minister a truth which is greater than merely what constitutes a family: we are seeking to minister the truth of the union of Christ and His church.

That, btw, is the Gospel – and judgment, they say, begins in the house of God. We don’t have to be perfect, but we have to be at least serious about teaching our children that love means “sacrifice” and not “emotional sugar coating” in marriage.

[4] When we are doing our job in the church, as the church, our methods of political engagement will change. It’s ironic, I think, that the church has been able to historically manage the highest rate of change and the highest value of social change when it is most willing to die for the Gospel rather than fight for political ends with political means.

“Die for the Gospel”, btw, doesn’t mean “roll over when someone says we’re mean”. It means that we would rather die than deny what is true about Christ. In 20 years, James Dobson and Pat Robertson have not defeated abortion or gay marriage, have they? And Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton haven’t defeated “racism”, have they?

Here's something to think on for a second: I have a suspicion that one group of readers are right now grossly offended that I would lump Jackson with Dobson into the same bucket -- but I'll bet that on the other side of the political fence, there are people who will be offended that I would lump Dobson with Jackson into the same political bucket. And that, in and of itself, demonstrates that these guys do not have a Gospel agenda. They have a partisan agenda apart from the Gospel.

There's where the fireworks begin, and I'll leave the comments open on this for a couple of days to see where you people want to take it, or to ask questions about where this is right now.

As they say over at my blog, be in the Lord's house on the Lord's day with the Lord's people in order to end political differences and to overcome political idolatry. You'd be surprized what the Gospel will do for you.

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Book Review Smackdown

by Frank Turk

Well, here we are. On the one hand, I have Tim Stevens' Pop goes the Church, which Pastor Stevens wrote, as he says, because "I think that, just as he did in the first century, Jesus would disciple a small team of leaders while at the same time looking for opportunities to attract and influence large crowds."

On the other hand, we have David F. Wells' The Courage to be Protestant, in which Professor Wells asks, "But what happens when the middle class -- or worse yet, the middle aged -- also begin to sport tattoos on their sagging skin, let their pants sag halfway down their thighs, and sport hoodies as well?"

Indeed. That's the contrast between these two books -- and I want to be as fair as possible in contrasting them because, at the very least, we're talking about the contrasting opinions of two men who are pastors.

So first -- why bother to contrast these two books? The answer is utterly obvious: they are both written to the larger Christian community with the health and mission of the church at large in mind. Pastor Stevens says explicitly, "It has been encouraging to see a segment of the church wake up to the potential of leveraging the culture to reach our friends. These writings are helping us learn how to negotiate relationships with the unchurched, utilize pop culture to start spiritual conversations, and be discerning so as not to pollute our own souls in the process." It's sort of ironic that what Pastor Stevens recognizes in the next paragraph on page 32 is that these books have mostly abandoned the necessity of the local church -- which I would argue demonstrates whether or not these books are capable of teaching how to "be discerning".

On the other hand, Professor Wells says this: "But if the traditional church is so inept, ... so painful, and so boring, why not let it die peacefully? Why keep kicking it? Because the real target is not the traditional church but the traditional theology it lives by." (39)

Now, because Tim Stevens is not a new kid on the block -- he's at least in the third generation of Hybels-esque pastors to write books on this subject -- he has a whole chapter (Chpt 8) dedicated to the theology behind his idea that, as he frankly says, "you have to scratch people where they itch". (Chpt 7, and especially pg 121) His review team of over 50 seminary-trained men and women (I assume this is the list of people listed in the back of the book, pp. 251-253) has gone over Chapter 8, so it must be theology. And in that chapter, he says the following passages relate these truths:

• Acts 17 (cited from the Message) indicates that Paul used Athenian culture to reach the Athenians because that's what he always did
• Paul "[quoted] the first-century version of Dave Mathews"
• Paul quoted Greek philosophers in Titus and 1 Corinthians to admonish Christians
• Jesus was the only person in the NT to use the word "hypocrite", but this then proves Jesus was "redeeming the culture"
• Because a non-Jew wrote Prov 31, apparently all secular lyrics have the potential to be the Word of God
• Jesus did not invent the genre of parables, but instead employed a common literary device -- apparently endorsing the use of all common literary devices including "YouTube"
• Because Jesus mentions two "current events" in the NT, "topical" teaching therefore has an open door
• Jesus didn't live in a hole but actually met people like prostitutes and adulterous women -- though Pastor Stevens is clear to point out "Jesus never sinned"
• Paul was "all things to all people"
• And Paul exorted Christians to live "an everyday, ordinary life" (again with the Message, Romans 12)

And while I might disagree with the sort of parallels Pastor Stevens has made here (for example, comparing Dave Mathews to Cleanthes or Epimenides, or his, um, selective and atheological understanding of Prov 31's origin) I'd grant him the general facts of his examples.

The problem is that they don't hardly make the point he is seeking to make. His point is that if you don't serve the immediate needs of people ... wait -- let me quote him for you from Chapter 7:

You see, if you don't offer people something they need, they won't come. If people don't come, you can't teach them the truth. So an effective church is busy identifying people's needs and letting the community know you have some help they should consider.

His point is not that we are, for better or worse, a church in an American landscape and society in which we have to speak in words and idioms people will grasp: the "scratch their itch" purpose is not merely to communicate but to commoditize the church into something which works for people better than whatever it is they are trying now.

I have my own opinions about that, but here's what Pastor Wells says about such a thing:

The church is not our creation. It is not our business. We are not called upon to manage it. It is not there for us to advance our careers in it. It is not there for our own success. It is not a business. The church, in fact, was never our idea in the first place. (222-223)

And again:

Organizations are everywhere in the Western world, andn there is nothing unique about an organization. The church is utterly unlike any other organization in the world. In the church are those who belong to another world. ... Because when it gathers, it is hearing a summons to stand before the God os all eternity, to worship in awe before him, to acknowledge his greatness, to humble itself, to learn to live in this world on his terms, and to do its business as his. (223-224, italics in original)

These are the two conflicting opinions, dear readers. If you have read both of these books, you are welcome to comment here regarding which one offers the more compelling vision of the church and its mission.

If you have not read both books, feel free to read along and lurk -- but people simply looking to voice uninformed opinions need to keep those opinions to themselves. If I think you haven't read both books, I'll ask you once for some proof, and if it doesn't come I'll delete your comments.

Because that's how I roll.

Play on.

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The "accountability" thing

by Dan Phillips

BoB. One of the questions posed to the Band of Bloggers panel (at which our blog was ably represented by Phil Johnson) was on the issue of "accountability."

I think "accountability" has taken on the status of a buzzword. You say it's important, everyone nods knowingly and murmurs "Mmm, accountability," and you're in. They know you're okay.

But what does "accountability" mean?

In some contexts, it means "infinite-buck-pass." Folks who rankle at submitting to any human authority simply assure that everyone (else) can be trumped by someone. This usually ends in a majority vote. Folks like this feel a lot better about majority-vote.

This solution has long puzzled me. In the Bible, the majority is almost invariably wrong.

Q: Can 10 out of 12 spies be wrong?
A: You betcha!

Q: Can virtually an entire nation be wrong?
A: You betcha! More than once!

Etc.

Further, to whom is the majority "accountable"? With mob-rule, who rules the mob?

The question of accountability strikes me as particularly odd in the context of blogging. Nonetheless, let's take it seriously, and work towards a serious answer.

To whom is a Christian blogger "accountable"? First, we have to define "accountability." Is that an easy task? Let's try to make it easy by suggesting answerable as a synonym. But does that really make it easy? What would you mean by either word? Are you asking who has the authority to censor a blogger, or to reprove him, to correct him? To force him to change his mind, or to change one of his posts?

How about his pastor? I actually think that's a good suggestion for some sort of accountability, since it is indeed the role of a pastor to keep watch over (and answer for) the souls of those under his charge (Hebrews 13:17). We are to respect our pastors and follow their lead (1 Corinthians 16:16; 1 Thessalonians 5:12-13; Hebrews 13:7, 17; etc.).

So I think it would be perfectly appropriate for a pastor to read his sheep's blogs insofar as he is able to do so, or at least to check on occasion to make sure that the blogger is representing Christ faithfully. After all, as I mean to develop in another post, blogging is indeed a stewardship with some attendant formidable responsibilities.

Frank Turk has shared that his pastor keeps tabs on him, and I think that's great. I had the pleasure of meeting Pastor Tad at T4G and offered my sympathies and prayers. It would certainly be faithful pastoring to offer correction and encouragement and direction to those under one's charge (cf. 2 Timothy 4:2).

Additionally, we three keep tabs on each other. More than once, each of us has put up a post in "Draft" status and invited the others for feedback. Or if a discussion heats up, we'll invite assessment or criticism or perspective, confident that we'll be candid and honest with each other.

But beyond that, what would one suggest? An advisory panel of Christian Blogger Overlord Watchdogs? What a great idea. We could call it "CBLOW."

But, seriously. What further "accountability" is called for?

I honestly think that to pose the question thoughtfully is to answer it. To whom is a Christian blogger answerable? Good heavens — what is more public than blogging?

Think about it: you talk to a fellow church member, and one person hears you. You teach a Sunday School class, and maybe a few dozen hear you. Preach, and (unless it's recorded) dozens or hundreds hear you.

But when you blog?

Blog, and everybody hears you — or at any rate everyone can. It is right out there in public, all of it, for God and everyone to see, analyze, fact-check, pick over, misrepresent, treasure, slander, repeat, steal, discuss, debate, and any other appropriate verb you might choose.

In the past, and very frequently, I've taken great comfort in this fact. When someone glances at a post-title and then blurts out his immediate emotional reaction, or skims to my last paragraph and rips apart what he imagines I said, or runs off to his own blog or another's to cry and complain about something... the public nature of this entire "conversation" is very comforting to me. I know that any fair-minded reader can examine what I said, and decide for himself — up, down, or sideways.

And if they're not fair-minded? Oh well; wasn't going to win them anyway.

I remember a fellow who angrily demanded that I source a quotation. But I had! I'm obsessive about sourcing. It was right there in the post. I even re-read it myself again and again — but he insisted it wasn't sourced, and got madder and madder at me for being so irresponsible. But everything I had written was on display for everyone to see. Very comforting to me, in that case.

But on the other hand, the knowledge that everything I write will be read by all sorts of people is very sobering as well. Think about it: everything I write will be read by people smarter than I, better-educated than I (the two are not necessarily interchangeable); by people who know things I don't know, and who see things from angles I haven't considered. Some of them will be supportive of what I want to say, some will be very angered by it, some will be bitterly opposed to it. And they all have access to a public forum. Genius or... er, non-genius, they have equal access to the same public forum that I access.

If I did in fact say something foolish and/or irresponsible and/or stupid, they can tell everyone. Everyone. On this blog, on their blog, on anyone's blog. Forever, until I die or am hounded off the scene in shame, known only as "Oh-yes-Dan-Phillips,-that-pinhead-who-____."

How's that for accountability?

And it works, too. In fact, it's a big reason why I tend to crankiness when someone quick-draws (and sloppy-shoots) some challenge to a question I already anticipated in the post. Before I hit PUBLISH POST, I try to read the post from several angles to anticipate challenges and questions it might provoke. I doubt anyone likes to be made a fool in public, and I try to avoid it whenever possible.

But what is the final court of appeal? When I (say) vigorously affirm the sufficiency of Scripture, a lot of folks are delighted, but equally a lot of folks are madder than wet cats. To which group am I responsible, to which am I "accountable"?

In the final analysis, to none of them.

Where the buck actually stops. On the great Day, my ministry as a blogger won't be passed before a majority vote, but before a vote of one (2 Corinthians 5:10; Hebrews 4:13).

I know that's got to seem suspiciously convenient to some. Consider these Scriptures, then:

You shall not curse the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind, but you shall fear your God: I am the LORD (Leviticus 19:14)

You shall not wrong one another, but you shall fear your God, for I am the LORD your God (Leviticus 25:17)

For they are my servants, whom I brought out of the land of Egypt; they shall not be sold as slaves. 43 You shall not rule over him ruthlessly but shall fear your God (Leviticus 25:42-43)

All these ethical demands, and each has the same motivator: fear your God.

The disabled person cannot avenge himself — but you had better fear God! The neighbor you bilk may not know enough to call your dishonesty — but you had better fear God! Your helpless fellow-Israelite may not have the power to deal with your injustice — but you had better fear God!

One might counter, "But there were courts and judges to which people could appeal. Israelites were accountable to them." Perhaps so.

So who was at the top of the human authority-ladder? Where did the buck stop? Who had no humans to whom he was "accountable," in that sense? That would be the king. As Solomon wrote:

I say: Keep the king's command, because of God's oath to him. 3 Be not hasty to go from his presence. Do not take your stand in an evil cause, for he does whatever he pleases. 4 For the word of the king is supreme, and who may say to him, "What are you doing?" (Ecclesiastes 8:2-4)

And where was the king's accountability?

"And when he sits on the throne of his kingdom, he shall write for himself in a book a copy of this law, approved by the Levitical priests. 19 And it shall be with him, and he shall read in it all the days of his life, that he may learn to fear the LORD his God by keeping all the words of this law and these statutes, and doing them.... (Deuteronomy 17:18-19)

The king was to learn from the Law the fear of Yahweh. The priests made sure he copied it accurately, but there's no indication of further responsibility on their part. The king was directed to the Word, and the Word taught him to fear Yahweh. That was to motivate him, keep him in line. Hold him accountable.

And besides, ultimately, if the fear of God is insufficient motivation, then we have a problem not soluble by committee.

This dimension should both humble and embolden the Christian blogger (Proverbs 28:1). He will welcome wise criticism without being its slave (Proverbs 9:8b-9; 11:2; 26:12).

He's wise enough to mistake neither his critics' judgment, nor his own, for God's.

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