Tuesday Odds 'n' Ends

by Phil Johnson

1. Our esteemed English physician-friend Adrian Warnock has made his 2,000th post, and fittingly, he highlights another famous doctor—the Doctor—D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones (who was Welsh, not English, and therefore—dare I say this?—somewhat less starchy than the redoubtable Dr. Warnock. No, I'm joking about that. Lloyd-Jones always wore a full overcoat and hat to the beach, even in the summer. And he'd sit there reading Richard Sibbes and trying hard not to get too much sun. Adrian, by comparison, is a veritable party animal.)
        Anyway, Adrian credits the Doctor with inspiring the current breed of Reformed Charismatics, and there's no doubt that Lloyd-Jones had a major hand in this. But lest anyone accept the common classification of MLJ himself as a "charismatic" (an error Dr. Warnock himself carefully avoids), you ought to see Lloyd-Jones's own assessment of the modern Charismatic movement, which is scattered through the pages of his book titled Prove All Things.
   
2. Joel Hunter, one of the regular patrons at the "Boar's Head Tavern," added a late comment to one of my posts from a few days ago, raising some interesting questions about the role of propositions in the affirmation and defense of the Christian faith. I briefly considered whether to make a whole new post in reply to his thoughts, but decided to answer him in the meta instead. (You'll find my reply immediately following his comment around entry number 53 in this thread.)
   
3. But one thought nags at me that I didn't actually spell out in my reply to Joel: It's annoying, and fatuous, the way defenders of postmodern epistemologies invariably fire back the accusation that if you won't get on board with the pomos' renunciation of certitude, it can only be because you're stuck in modernity; you're a Cartesian foundationalist; your point of view is indebted to Comte; you have uncritically adopted modern scientific methodology and presuppositions, or whatever. Newsflash: Logic, propositions, and critical thinking existed centuries before modernity came on the scene. And those are not exclusively "Greek" ideas, either.
   
4. Here's an irony that constantly amazes me: Those who are defending the coherence of truth and the propositional content of faith are actually the closest spiritual heirs and offspring of Machen, Spurgeon, and others who opposed modernism more vigorously than anyone else a hundred years ago and more. The people who pretend to see too much modernity in that point of view are actually echoing the same arguments and ideas set forth by people who a hundred years ago were peddling modernism in the church, while laughing at the archaic points of view being defended by Spurgeon, Machen, and their fellow-soldiers. Are we living in Bizarro World, or what?
   
5. Have "postmodern evangelicals" learnt nothing from history? Obviously not. They are too tied to the notion that the latest prevailing point of view in the secular academic world must finally be the dawn of true enlightenment. And they hold this point of view while they laugh at the coherence of biblical truth and label those of us who defend it as "slaves to the Enlightenment." Go figure.
   
6. I normally wouldn't make a point out of patting a fellow Pyro on the back in such a public way, but this is really good, and I agree wholeheartedly with Daniel.
   
7. This, on the other hand, is just utterly apalling. If I accused Schuller of this kind of easy-believism and reductionism, someone would probably crawl out of the woodwork to accuse me of exaggerating. But he does a nice caricature of himself without any help from me.
   
8. Quote: "The battle between Michael Spencer and Phil Johnson (Baptists) last year involved a lot of denominational theology and was the most polarizing and heated flame wars in the religious sector of blogs I’ve ever seen." Riiiight. That just goes to show: You cannot kill a good myth.

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Do we need a shorter Bible?

by Dan Phillips

You may have noticed -- the Bible is a pretty hefty volume. Any way you slice it, there are sixty-six books and lots of chapters and verses in there. Only a few books are one chapter long: Obadiah, Jude, etc. Others are as much as 150 chapters long. Any way you slice it, not an afternoon read.

Now, you can make a really small one, like the version Marc found. Or you can get the Reader's Digest Condensed Bible. Or you can get a really big one, like the Bible that the President-before-GW-Bush used to wave at photographers.

But the Bible itself, the version we've had for centuries, is a big book.

It has occurred to me, though, that if some schools of thought were true, it actually could - or should -- be a lot smaller.

For instance, to be obvious, if we only published the actual words of the "Jesus" who the Jesus Seminar academes made up, the Gospels would only take up a chapter or two.

For that matter, if we went over the Bible in toto and only published what the liberal establishment allows as non-misleading passages -- that is, the parts of the Law of Moses actually written by Moses (none), the psalms of David actually written by David (few, or none), the Proverbs actually written by Solomon (none), and thus for Isaiah, the other prophets, Paul's letters, Peter's letters... well, again, a much smaller Bible.

The "grace-that-doesn't-sanctify" crowd's Bible, I suppose would leave out every NT verse in the imperative mood, and every threat and warning. Result? Shorter Bible.

What if the Bible came from the God of all the "seeker-sensitive"-leaning folks, the "how to have your very best life right now without conviction of sin, regeneration, repentance, saving faith, or discipleship" folks, the "using faith to put a hammerlock on the Big Guy" crowd? 'Way shorter. All it would have to say is something like, "You kids have fun! Go for it! I've got your back!"

What if the Bible came from the God of the "leaky Canon" set, who prize semi-hemi-demi private revelations -- the sorts that say that the Bible is not God's final word to man this side of Christ's return? It would be much shorter. It might have one basic Gospel, and then two sentences: "Anything else you need to know, the Holy Spirit will tell you individually. But you already knew that!"

(On the other hand, it seems to me that if one absorbs the full meaning and implications of 2 Timothy 3:15-17, one is left with the conclusion that our Bible is the right size -- however it is bound.)

UPDATE: If you care to, you could hear a sermon I just preached last Sunday developing the meaning and some of the implications of 2 Timothy 3:16 HERE. One could easily preach many different sermons legitimately from vv. 15-17 (on training one's children, on Sunday School, on preaching, on pastoral ministry, on Biblical Christian counseling, on inspiration, on the sufficiency of Scripture, etc.). This is just one of them.

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"Harsh, and narrow-minded, and bigoted"

posted by Phil Johnson

Your weekly dose of Spurgeon

The PyroManiacs devote Monday space to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive.



The following is an excerpt from "The Bond of the Covenant," preached Sunday morning, May 10, 1885 at the Met Tab in London. Once again we see that Spurgeon's poignant criticisms of 19th-century modernism are also perfectly suited for 21st-century post-modernism:

This generation has made a god of its own. The effeminate deity of the modern school is no more the true God than Dagon or Baal. I know him not, neither do I reverence him. But Jehovah is the true God: he is the God of love, but he is also robed in justice; he is the God of forgiveness, but he is also the God of atonement; he is the God of heaven, but he is also the God who sends the wicked down to hell.

We, of course, are thought to be harsh, and narrow-minded, and bigoted: nevertheless, this God is our God for ever and ever. There has been no change in Jehovah. He has revealed himself more clearly in Christ Jesus; but he is the same God as in the Old Testament, and as such we worship him.

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Here's a real gold mine

by Phil Johnson

It's already been a little more than two years since S. Lewis Johnson went to heaven. He had long been one of my favorite biblical expositors. He was meticulous with details and low-key in his delivery, but he was always profoundly clear, succinct, and insightful—and never, ever dry. He closely followed whatever biblical text he was dealing with, never straying far from the main point. But he always surprised me with details I had never noticed in whatever passage he was dealing with.

It's popular in some circles these days to denigrate systematic theology as something that's virtually incompatible with biblical theology. Some will even try to argue that systematic theology has no valid or appropriate place at all in the discipline of biblical exposition.

If that's how you think, listen to almost any random sermon by S. Lewis Johnson. He will quickly disabuse you of those notions.

My first exposure to Johnson's preaching was about two decades ago—maybe even more. Someone gave me his tapes on the doctrines of grace. The clarity with which he dealt with the extent-of-the-atonement issue settled some questions I had been grappling with for a long time. What I appreciated most was Johnson's biblical approach. Those tapes changed my whole perspective on the relationship between systematic doctrine and biblical exposition. They also marked a major turning point in my thinking about Calvinism, Arminianism, and biblical soteriology.

Dr. Johnson did not publish a large body of written material, but his sermons have been disseminated freely for years by the tape ministry of Believers Chapel (Dallas), the fellowship Johnson where pastored for many years. Those sermons may be a more valuable legacy than a shelf full of popular-level books would have been. For someone like me, who never went to seminary, it's great to have so much solid teaching from a premier seminary professor. (By most accounts, Dr. Johnson was one of the finest teachers of the twentieth century.)

Dan Phillips linked to the online sermon collection at Believers Chapel last October, but at first glance, it seemed a very short list of material, and I didn't check it out closely enough to see what a rich resource is actually there. The sermons are organized by series, and in total, there are nearly 1500 sermons by S. Lewis Johnson downloadable freely there (not to mention lots of other sermons from other speakers).

Last week someone graciously gave me a complete set of the SLJ mp3s. I've been listening nonstop. Since I'm preaching through Galatians and I had never those sermons, that's the series I started with.

And—wow! This is good stuff. Here is as good a reason as I can think of to get high-speed Internet access and one of those huge-capacity iPods. The sound quality of the mp3s is excellent, and according to iTunes, there's enough preaching by Dr. Johnson in all of them combined that you could listen nonstop 24 hours a day for more than 54 days and you still would not get through all of them.

But if you ask me, that wouldn't be a bad way to spend a couple of months.

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Fundamentalism, the ECM, Authentic Christianity, False Apostles, Deceitful Workers, Angels of Light—and a Coda for Adrian about "Tone"

by Phil Johnson

One of the difficulties of a gang-blog is that we all have a lot to say, and it's hard not to overwhelm the blog or constantly post on top of one another. But we do it anyway, because there's so much stuff that needs to be said. I keep trying to make shorter posts, but the subjects lately have been big and important. Like this:

After Carla Rolfe kindly made room for the looooong transcript of my seminar on the "emerging church movement" at Emergent No, an even more verbose and far-ranging discussion broke out in scattered places around the Internet. I can't possibly keep up with most of it. But I have commented on a couple of entries in the comments thread at Emergent No.



One of my comments prompted a question from a poster who seems somewhat sympathetic with "the New Perspective on Paul."

Rod: "How far beyond fundamentalism does 'orthodoxy' extend for you?"

Excellent question.

If you mean "the fundamentalist movement," then I would say that the boundaries of orthodoxy surely extend a long, long way past the fuzzy and fragmented borders of "fundamentalism." I myself am actually an outsider as far as most in the actual "fundamentalist movement" are concerned. (You'll find several megabytes worth of discussion about why I'm not "in" the movement at SharperIron.org.)

But, see: No one, including all who would identify themselves as card-carrying members of the most well-defined neighborhoods of the "fundamentalist movement"—no one who has any shred of credibility—actually believes you have to be "in the fundamentalist movement" in order to be deemed a real Christian.

The notion that fundies think everyone outside their movement is on a greased slide into hell is one of those famous canards that hard-core anti-fundamentalists (including many emergent types) love to repeat.

"Canards"?

It's sort of like the popular myth that we non-emergent, classic evangelicals love propositions only because we want to reduce the knowledge of God to a simple formula. (What kills me is the way such caricatures are invariably set forth in the very same contexts where someone is complaining about how critics of the ECM can't do anything but make false generalizations and attack straw men.)

Note: As a matter of fact, your profession of faith in Christ is itself a proposition. As such, it's either true or false. If you are going to post claims on the Internet about what the church should be like (claims which are themselves propositions), then it is right and good and necessary for other Christians to concern themselves on some basic level with the question of whether your profession of faith is a true proposition—and if so, whether you are spiritually and biblically qualified to issue pronouncements about what's good and what's bad for the church.

Anyway, here's the point I'm making: Some truths (many of which are capable of being expressed as propositions—e.g., "Jesus is Lord"; and "Jesus is God") are absolutely essential to Christianity itself. According to Scripture, if you deny those essential truths, you're not orthodox in any sense. See Galatians 1:8-9; 2 John 7-11.

Knowing Christ involves more than recognizing the truth of a few propositions, of course, but it doesn't involve any less. If the christ you worship is not the eternal One who is Lord of all, you don't really "know" the true Christ, and whatever religion you practice is not any kind of authentic Christianity, even if you insist that you are a Christian.

That's not to say you have to pass a doctrinal test on Trinitarian orthodoxy before you can respond rightly to the gospel. (That's another silly canard.) But it does mean that if someone knows full well what Scripture says about an essential truth regarding Christ or the gospel, and with full understanding, that person nevertheless rejects that very same truth, we are not to embrace or encourage that person as if he were a true believer (Titus 3:10-11).

If words mean anything at all, when we acknowledge that certain truths are essential to the Christian faith, what we are saying is that we cannot and must not accept as authentically "Christian" any point of view that deliberately rejects or ignores or otherwise eliminates any of those "essential" truths.

"Fundamentalism"?

Now, strictly speaking, to affirm that specific truth-claims are absolutely essential to the gospel is a kind of "fundamentalism." Those essential, non-negotiable truths are the "fundamentals." That's where the word fundamentalism comes from.

J. I. Packer defined fundamentalism as "just a twentieth-century name for historic Evangelicalism" (Fundamentalism and the Word of God, p. 19). He added that he thought the term itself neither very good nor very useful, and it's surely an even less helpful expression these days, because of the way it has been abused by its friends and foes alike.

But the main gist of what the expression originally meant is true and right: certain key biblical doctrines cannot be compromised without abandoning Christianity itself. (And a real fundamentalist would add that those fundamental doctrines need to be fought for.)

Which doctrines are essential and which are secondary is a much harder, slightly different, and very important, question. But at the moment, that's not really the main point of contention between "the emerging church movement" and most of its critics.

Here's the problem:

Of much greater and more immediate concern to the most serious critics of the emergent idea is this: Will the ECM ever be capable of reaching any consensus on the question of whether there are any essential, biblical, non-negotiable core-doctrines that we can preach with conviction as true and authoritative?

One sometimes gets the strong impression that the central idea of the "emerging church movement" is that no such certainties exist. As if no mere doctrine could legitimately be deemed essential to Christianity and proclaimed dogmatically and with settled conviction.

Seriously: As far as I can tell, no actual, inviolable truth-claim is involved in the prevailing Emergent notion of "generous orthodoxy."

Again, that's the error the best critics of the movement are most keen to confront. It has nothing to do with demanding that the body of Christ be defined and delimited by the borders of some visible movement.

But it just seems so judgmental to treat a proposition as a test of someone's orthodoxy!

Scripture is clear: the church has always been beset with false apostles, deceitful workers, and ministers of Satan who try to appear as ministers of righteousness (2 Corinthians 11:13-15). And they traffic in lies (John 8:44). It takes a really pernicious, obtuse unbelief to insist (especially at this particular point in church history) that ideas and propositions don't really matter much in the big scheme of things.

Aha! You are a fundy!

The problem with the label fundamentalism is that it has become a shorthand cheap-shot way of pinning the Islamofascist reproach and all the other evil implications of that word onto Christians who simply take the Bible seriously and want to remain faithful to the essential truth of Christ.

And that's really not nice.

Speaking of which...

On a somewhat related matter, our esteemed and genteel English friend, Dr. Adrian Warnock, has lately expressed repeated concerns about "tone" in the Christian blogosphere—especially when we air out our doctrinal disagreements, or when disputes arise about such basic issues as what distinguishes authentic Christianity from the many false varieties.

Since he keeps using me as an example of what he thinks is wrong, I'm hesitant to respond at all. There is, after all, an important kernel of truth in what he says. Christians do sometimes get overly zealous in their eagerness to set one another straight. And—more important—I'm not going to try to plead innocent to the charge that I have on too many occasions been guilty of this.

However, it's a real mistake to talk about "tone" in isolation from content. Some sins do warrant sharp rebukes (Titus 1:13). Some dangers are so serious that it's perfectly appropriate to sound a shrill alarm.

Paul responded passively and even graciously to people who were preaching Christ but otherwise made themselves his adversaries and even tried to add to his afflictions (Philippians 1:15-18). But his response to those who professed faith in Christ while undermining the foundations of the gospel took a whole different tone (Galatians 1:8-9). See Machen's excellent observations on why the harsh tone of Galatians 1 was valid, even though Paul's actual differences with the Judaizers could be boiled down to a single proposition regarding the ordo salutis.

Moreover, (and this is nothing personal against Adrian, but) it's a serious mistake to imagine that everyone listed in "The Blogdom of God" is a true angel of light rather than a poseur.

Tea, anyone?

The example we are given in Scripture for dealing with serious challenges to core Christian truths—particularly the apostle Paul's polemic style, which is not isolated but permeates most of his major epistles—is admittedly not well-suited to accommodate Victorian (or worse, postmodern) sensitivities.

Friendly dialogue over Earl Gray tea in a formal setting is about as far as I can imagine from the way the Apostle Paul dealt with the Judaizers, hyper-preterists, and divisive people of his time. The same goes for Peter (2 Peter 2) and even John, "the apostle of love" (3 John 9-10). It's not the way Paul encouraged Timothy and Titus to deal with gainsayers, either.

And for what it's worth in light of Adrian's most recent post on this issue, he might be interested to know that when the T4TG guys get together and certain controversial subjects come up—such as postmodernism, the emerging church, the erosion of clarity on the gospel, and the various popular redefinitions of core Protestant doctrines—the "tone" of our heroes' dialogue has lots more brimstone than treacle in it.

Friendly dialogue and mutual acceptance are not always the right strategy—especially when someone challenges our central biblical convictions. See Nehemiah 6:1-3 for one very practical example of this principle. In fact, accepting an invitation to "dialogue" about patently unbiblical ideas is probably the worst possible answer in an era when the promise of genial "conversation" is the very tool certain phony "ministers of righteousness" have employed to undermine resistance to an amalgamation of worldly ideas and out-and-out heresies that actually attack the authority of Scripture and the assurance of faith.

So while I am concerned about proper, Christlike and Pauline "tone," and I do (believe it or not) try not to be needlessly sarcastic or over-the-top harsh, I am much more concerned to speak truthfully and with clarity.

A final word about the supposed "blogwars":

Ironically, the recent post whose tone Adrian Warnock said he found so "deeply disturbing" was hailed by many others for its supposedly more kindly tone than my previous exchanges with the iMonk.

Both perspectives honestly surprised and baffled me. My tone and my substance in that post were exactly the same as every other substantive post I have ever written critiquing the iMonk and his drinking buddies: candid, but in no way uncharitable. Aside from a couple of comic-book parodies that honestly were not in any sense deliberately mean-spirited, no one has ever tried to cite an actual instance of ungodly or uncharitable speech in any of my criticisms of iMonk or the patrons of his tavern. Search and see.

So unless someone wants to quote my actual words and show me where and how I have sinned, I would appreciate it if all the popular mythology about the extreme nastiness of the Pyro-BHT "blogwars" could be laid to rest.

Oh, and by the way...

See also this post from the old PyroManiac blog.

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Thanks for your prayers

by Phil Johnson

Update: Darlene's surgery yesterday went well. She's limping and the knee is tender, but no complications. She wanted me to thank TeamPyro readers for your prayers.

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Pastoral marriage counseling: What if?

by Dan Phillips

Some of the hardest, scariest, most dangerous, heart-wrenching work pastors do is marital counseling. (I can hear the Amen's from where I sit.)

The pastor is very much like baseball's relief pitcher. He's not called into action when everything is going great, as a rule. No, the manager waves for him when it's the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, score tied, and the opposition's power-hitter about to approach the plate.

Similarly, couples often come into the study grim-faced, tight-lipped, angry, bringing years of entrenched patterns of behavior, scar tissue, grudges, and angry memories. Bottom of the ninth. Bases loaded. The breathless crowd leans forward.

And ol' Pastor Bud is supposed to fix everything.

So he tries gamely, God help him. Depending on his orientation, maybe he talks about boundaries, or love language; maybe he tries to teach the husband to think and talk more like a woman. He carries some Bible water around, trying to put out this and that fire -- some of them raging, some of them long-smoldering, like the volcanic belly of Mount St. Helens.

But what if he didn't? What if he did something totally different?

What if, when the pair began to trade accusations, he held up his hand, and said, "Not yet. We can get back to that. What I want you to tell me now is what Jesus Christ means to you. Bob? You first. Then you, Tina."

And then for that entire session at least, all they talked about who Jesus is, who Jesus is to them, and what it means to be a Christian. They talk about their total depravity, about the holiness of God; about the person and work of Christ. They talk about how we are saved by sheer grace, through faith alone, in Christ alone. They talk about how the grace of God makes us new creatures, and how the very bread of the new man is the Word of God.

In very personal terms, they talk about how the Christian life is like a syllogism, where the Lordship of Christ is the major premise, and submission to His Lordship the minor, and all that follows is a matter of working out those two premises.

And what if then at the end, the pastor prays, and assigns homework? What if he hands them each a piece of paper with Genesis 2:24, Proverbs 2:17, Malachi 2:14, Colossians 3:18-19, Ephesians 5:21-33, and 1 Peter 3:1-7 on it, and says, "I want you to read these verses, and come back ready to tell me what God says that marriage is, and what God says your role in it is."

Then what if he just talks about that, next time? What if he sticks with the foundation of a Biblical view of marriage as a covenant? And, assuming the husband and wife do a decent job of summarizing their responsibilities, what if he asks, "Now, which of those God-given obligations was conditioned on whether or not your spouse does his or her part?"

Then what if he concludes that session saying, "Bob, Tina, I want you each independently to do a personal Bible study. Come back ready to tell me what the Bible says about vows and promises and oaths."

And then as the stunned couple turns to leave, what if he adds, "Oh, and when you come back next week, bring your wedding vows with you"?

Next time, if they work hard, they come back with verses like Numbers 30:2, Deuteronomy 23:21-23, Psalm 56:12, 61:4, 8, 76:11, Proverbs 20:25, and Ecclesiastes 5:5. They say that God absolutely expects everyone to keep the promises and vows he makes -- even if keeping those vows actually hurts (Psalm 15:4b).

And then, what if he has each one read his and her vows aloud? What if he then asks, "Are any of those vows contrary to the Word of God?"

If the answer is "No," what if he asks, "Which of those vows is conditioned on your spouse keeping his vows?"

And what if those Scriptures, and those vows, then formed the continuing context for the discussion of any and all marital frictions? That is, what if every complaint, every grudge is put in the context, first, of each person's humble submission to the Lordship of Christ, and second, of each person's sole sworn responsibility to keep his wedding vows from the heart?

Would it not be the case that they would normally be left with two categories of issues: (A) relatively trivial matters that can be readily dealt with in Biblical wisdom and grace, or (B) actual sins, which also can readily be dealt with by repentance, or may become objects of church discipline?

One more question. It may be loaded, but I ask sincerely: do you think that any marriage could be other than happy, where both husband and wife are constantly seeking God for grace heartily and individually to keep their wedding vows, and to fulfill His word? Where both are focusing on their own obligation before God, from the heart?

I close with a reflection on this penetrating thought, these powerful words, from C. S. Lewis:

To this someone may reply that he regarded the promise made in church as a mere formality and never intended to keep it. Whom, then, was he trying to deceive when he made it? God? That was really very unwise. Himself? That was not very much wiser. The bride, or bridegroom, or the "in-laws"? That was treacherous. Most often, I think, the couple (or one of them) hoped to deceive the public. They wanted the respectability that is attached to marriage without intending to pay the price: that is, they were imposters, they cheated. If they are still contented cheats, I have nothing to say to them: who would urge the high and hard duty of chastity on the people who have not yet wished to be merely honest? If they have now come to their senses and want to be honest, their promise, already made, constrains them. (Mere Christianity [Macmillan: 1960], p. 97)

Lewis, I believe, specifically had marital fidelity in mind. But why stop there? If one is expected to keep the promise about "forsaking all other," why not also his promise to "love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health," or her promise to "obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health"?

The Christian promised God that he would keep these vows. The Christian led his spouse to believe she could wager her entire life on his personal commitment before God to those sacred vows.

What if Christian married people were actually expected to know, remember, and honor their wedding vows?

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Sendin' Some Love to the iMonk

by Phil Johnson



I know. I know. It's been awhile (several months, actually) since I've deconstructed anything from the Internet Monk's blog. I also haven't said anything in ages about the steady stream of sneers and insults aimed this way almost daily from the virtual drinking establishment where the iMonk tends bar.

(I'm thinking of stuff like this, this, and lots more. Of course, I am not really injured in any way—either personally or psychologically—by the Tavernistas' disapproval, no matter how they feel they need to express it. But it is significant, I think, that remarks like those from the BHT are invariably followed by a tsunami of utter silence from the same army of tone-monitors who dutifully crawl out of the woodwork parroting the Rodney-King mantra and writing emotion-laden blogposts about how awful it is for Christians to argue with one another whenever someone makes any criticism of the iMonk's attitude or points of view. That's a rabbit I don't really need to chase right now. But I can't resist pointing it out. I'm also tempted to do a long riff about how such remarks only underscore the hypocrisy of the infamous "Rule 40." But belaboring that point would prolly not be a very good idea, since it would pretty much undo the whole point about how restrained I've been. So let's just keep moving, shall we?)

Anyway, it's not that I'm ignoring the iMonk, or that I don't care what he thinks anymore, or even that his drinking buddies' tireless bastinado against "the TR blogs" has become merely monotonous.

It's just that while the iMonk is well-known as a fearless critic whose disapproving gaze has fastened itself onto almost every feature of the evangelical landscape at one point or another, he turns out to be a rather tender soul when it comes to receiving any kind of criticism. And one hesitates to jar such a fragile psyche any more than absolutely necessary.

Furthermore, I've learned from difficult experience that if I even comment too light-heartedly on someone else's criticism of the Boar's Head Tavern or the iMonk's blog, I'm going to be assaulted by people who ostensibly want a kinder, gentler blogosphere. (And in their zeal to drive that point home, they will raise questions about my manhood, shout me down with tearful pleas to stop the insanity, and employ vulgar language which, if I object to, I'll be derided as a sanctimonious prude and a crusader for outmoded causes. You know: one of "these people [who] are beyond contempt, and beyond reason.")

Those may all sound like very good reasons to ignore the iMonk altogether, but it is clear that on some level, he is influencing people. (A barrage of e-mails from his fans and readers demanding that I answer his criticisms of my teaching was one of the major factors that prompted me to start a blog in the first place.) He seems to enjoy making reference to me in his critiques, and he often aims his critical commentary at doctrines or people I love. He obviously works hard at making himself impossible for me to ignore. But I've been trying really hard anyway.

Now the iMonk has posted two comparatively benign reviews of my seminars from last week's Shepherds' Conference. It really does seem that he is trying (in these two reviews, at least) to be fair with me. But I still think he has got a couple of major points wrong. In the most important instance, his error may stem partly from the fact that all his info about one of those seminars came from an abridged second-hand account of what I said. (That's OK; he acknowledged as much himself at the outset of his review.)

So let me make myself perfectly clear:

The following is not meant as criticism of Michael Spencer. I'm just going to try to clarify some things I think he has misunderstood.

And his misunderstanding here goes to the very heart of what (I believe) makes my perspective so frequently antithetical to the iMonk's. For that reason, I decided it might be worth the effort and worth the dear price I'm sure I'll pay for even bringing it up.

Some helpful background info:

The iMonk has "reviewed" a couple of seminars I've done here and there over the past two years, always dismissing my opinions as unworthy of any serious consideration because of the "the Grand Canyon of scholarly gravitas that exists between Phil Johnson and..."—well, practically anyone else you can think of.

But this time Michael Spencer actually responded to something I really said in the seminar (or at least Tim Challies' summary of it).

In the first of his two recent "Shepherds' Conference" reviews the iMonk more or less dispassionately gave his thoughts on Tim Challies' summary of my seminar titled "Is the Reformation Over?" At the very end of his post he expressed the hope that he was being fair. So I want to take him at his word and give him due credit for that.

Now, here's the thing:

When it comes to identifying the actual problems that have crippled the evangelical movement over the past hundred years or more, I think Michael Spencer and I would find far more to agree about than we would disagree about.

I could say the exact same thing about the so-called "Emerging Church Movement," by the way—and this is one of the reasons iMonk found so much to agree with in my seminar on that subject. I happen to think they have correctly identified a number of serious problems with the evangelical movement these days: its shallowness, its worldliness, its commercialization and trivialization of the gospel; its failure to reach the neediest people in our culture, and its failure to engage the culture itself biblically and correctly. The EC's assessment of the problems is sometimes spot on; but it is my firm conviction that their analysis of how we got here and what we should do about it is almost totally and completely wrong-headed, unbiblical, and historically naive. That is why I object so loudly to the direction the EC movement is headed. It's not because I like being cantakerous.

Ditto for my sometimes vocal opposition to the odd and often offensive mix of ideas that wafts daily out of the saloon doors over at Boar's Head Tavern.

We agree on many (or is it even most?) of the problems we see. Where we disagree is regarding the questions of "Why" and "What now?" And our disagreement is one of those profound and fundamental disagreements that (in all likelihood) may prove ultimately irreconcilable. No wonder it's maddening to both sides.

The iMonk's post-mortem on "Is the Reformation Over" highlights what I think is the major reason for the wide disparity between our opinions:

• He sees "evangelicalism" only as a 20th-century movement.
  
• When I speak of evangelicalism, I'm talking about an idea with a much longer historical pedigree than that.

In other words, the iMonk is comparing bowling balls to oranges when he contrasts D.G. Hart's analysis of the 20th-century evangelical movement with my lament about the decline of the historic evangelical idea.

Here's the heart of iMonk's main "argument" with me:

Michael says:

I believe that what Johnson sees is accurate, but I believe he is assigning too much to evangelicals. Were Evangelicals ever as rooted in the Reformation as they claimed to be? Not in the modern, "evangelical" era. From the outset, "Billy Graham" evangelicalism was ecumenical, not fundamentalistic, and it was there, in the seeds of an ecumenical pragmatism, that the seeds were planted of where we are today.

That is actually a very fine rejoinder to a point I would never even want to make. I agree that the movement that was labeled "evangelical" in the 20th century was off the rails from the start. As a matter of fact, I made that very point in at least three of my seminars at the Shepherds' Conference.

Moreover, if you asked me when evangelicalism derailed as a movement, I would say it was around the middle part of the 19th-century—when no less than the Earl of Shaftesbury pointed out that the word evangelical had already lost its meaning. That was some fifty years or so before the iMonk seems to imagine the evangelical movement began.

Huh? You mean evangelicalism is older than Billy Graham?

The word evangelical actually predates the Protestant Reformation by a generation or two. We might argue about whether anyone prior to the Protestant Reformation was truly evangelical in any meaningful sense, but that's not really germane to the point I was making in the seminar Michael Spencer was critiquing: Evangelicalism existed some four centuries before it derailed, and before it derailed, it was defined by some pretty clear and simple theological principles, at the heart of which lay both the formal and material principles of the Reformation.

Spencer asks incredulously, "Was evangelicalism ever as doctrinal as Spurgeon or the Puritans? Was it ever not ecumenical? Was there ever a time it wasn't fighting its own anti-intellectualism?"

Well, yes. Prior to 1850 it was all those things. As a matter of fact, both Spurgeon and the Puritans were evangelical in the historic sense I am pleading for. They even used that very term to describe their position and distinguish it from Socinianism, Deism, and in some cases, Arminianism. That is my whole point. The movement's abandonment of the historic meaning of the word and the ideas it represents lies at the heart of the Great Evangelical Disaster.

WWHS: What Would Horton Say?

The iMonk's confusion on this rather basic point is remarkable, since he says he has been a longtime devotee of Michael Horton, and the point I was trying to make is virtually the essence of Horton's driving passion, as I understand it. Horton is not arguing that evangelicalism melted down because it was "too evangelical"; he is reminding us that evangelicalism went astray when it left the central, initial, evangelical concerns of the Reformers. (Especially the formal and material principles—not to mention the other solas.) Pretty much the exact same point I was making.

In fact, The Cambridge Declaration, which Horton helped draft, virtually starts out with this statement: "Historic evangelicalism was confessional. It embraced the essential truths of Christianity as those were defined by the great ecumenical councils of the church. In addition, evangelicals also shared a common heritage of the 'solas' of the sixteenth century Protestant Reformation."

And it was J. I. Packer, not Phil Johnson, who (in Fundamentalism and the Word of God) described "fundamentalism" as a twentieth-century name for historic evangelicalism.

Get this:

Anyone who honestly thinks I care about preserving the 20th-century movement that co-opted the name "evangelical" hasn't heard a word I have been saying for the past fifteen years or longer.

But just to underscore the big-picture point I am trying to make, here is an exact quote from one of my seminars last week that Challies probably did not have time to paraphrase: "The evangelical movement is essentially dead, and all the motion and activity you see are just maggots feeding off the corpse. . . . [We need] to rescue the idea of historic evangelicalism from the contemporary evangelical movement."

So while I am glad and grateful not to be on the receiving end of another scathing dismissal from the iMonk, I'm very sorry he missed what I thought was the whole point I was trying to make in that seminar.

It's not a minor point, because it determines where you'll look for an answer to what ails the contemporary church. If you take the iMonk's perspective and write the very idea of "evangelicalism" off as a 20th-century anomaly—a nonpareil campaign of Christian anti-intellectuals unlike anything ever in Church history—then the postmodern innovations being peddled by Emergent types will probably look very appealing. But if you appreciate the legacy of historic evangelical principles ("fundamentalism," as Dr. Packer tags it), you might see the importance of distinguishing the idea of historic evangelicalism from the 20th-century movement that co-opted and corrupted the name. And you might be inclined to think (as I do) that a better answer to the corruption of the evangelical movement would be a return to true historic and biblical evangelical principles.

I've been saying something similar about fundamentalism to some of my fundamentalist friends, and they have a hard time getting it, too.

If you read my blog and that's the only point you ever see me make, I'm fine with that. If you get all the inside jokes and cultural references but miss that point, I will have failed in what I'm trying to do here.

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Drama in the waiting room, part deux

Phil's dear wife, Darlene, will be undergoing arthroscopic knee surgery Thursday. You might keep her in prayer, as she is scheduled to go under the knife at 7:30 AM PDT.

Tuesday while getting blood tests in preparation for tomorrow's surgery, a public altercation of PyroManiac proportions broke out right before her very eyes. Phil persuaded her to write a post about it. We welcome her as a guest-blogger.

"Impatient patients," or "Geriatrics Gone Wild"

by Darlene Johnson

See this classic PyroManiac post for a different tale that bears an uncanny resemblance to this one. Stuff like this never happened to me before I met Phil.

My right medial meniscus is torn and the floating pieces of it need to be cleaned out. Surgery is scheduled for Thursday morning at dawn. It's supposed to be a simple surgery, but a similar procedure almost proved fatal to John MacArthur a few years ago. So I'm not thrilled about it.

This morning I had a list of important things to do before the surgery, including some blood tests at a nearby clinic that does nothing but lab tests. Phil always refers to it as "Tourniquets R Us (formerly known as the Blood-Test Barn)."

When I arrived at 11:30 am and signed in at the counter, there was only one other person in the waiting room, an elderly man. Soon however, an older couple came back from the rooms where blood is drawn, and they were not at all happy with the check-in lady.

They started speaking loudly to her and claiming that she had discriminated against them. Having missed their earlier discussion, I was not quite sure what was going on. But the lady shook her finger at the receptionist and scolded her: "You did too discriminate against us!"

The receptionist patiently tried to explain that paperwork for Medicare patients must be entered into the computer for verification before any tests can be done. Evidently, the verification took a little more time than they felt necessary, and they were angry!

After the couple had lectured the receptionist for a while, the elderly man next to me interrupted: "Oh, leave her alone. She's just doing her job!" (I figure he must have been there for whatever discussion took place before the angry couple went back for their tests.)

I detected that no one was looking at me, so I quietly moved several chairs to the left.

The angry couple turned and glared in unison at the old man. "Mind your own business!" the old woman hissed. "She discriminated against us."

At that point, the man in the chair said something so profane I won't even try to describe it. (Let's just say he made a strong recommendation of something they could do besides argue with the receptionist.)

I was shocked at his language, and it didn't stop there. The receptionist was still bravely trying to make them understand what the requirements are for Medicare patients. The elderly woman was pursuing the line of argument that all special requirements for Medicare patients constitute age discrimination. The two old men were having a swearing contest.

Then in comes a man with some tests to turn in. After sizing up the situation, he looks at the receptionist and says "Tough day, huh?"

The couple decided to exit through the side door—so they wouldn't have to walk out past the angry man, even though they were still yelling at him. Nasty words.

He gave them several more helpful suggestions about what they could do. That made them yell back even more.

Finally, they left, and it got quiet. Just when I thought it was all over, all of a sudden the door flung open and the angry man yelled once more at the waiting-room man. The man near me jumped up and acted like he was going to run after them, but just then the clinician appeared at the door and called him back for his tests.

I hope the guy wasn't there for a blood-pressure test. Phil says he's going to get me a cell phone that makes video clips.

"A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger. The tongue of the wise useth knowledge aright: but the mouth of fools poureth out foolishness" (Proverbs 15:1-2).

Darlene Johnson
Mrs. Pyro

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Highlights (and a few regrets) from the 2006 Shepherds' Conference

by Phil Johnson

Here's my high-speed debrief on last week:

• Steve Lawson's message in the Friday morning general session (on Nehemiah 8) perfectly summed up the main point of the conference. This was one of the most powerful messages about preaching I have ever heard. If you are a pastor, get a copy and listen to it several times.
  
• John MacArthur was dynamic, thought-provoking, and convicting, as usual. A few months ago, he gave a five-sermon expostion of the Parable of the Prodigal Son, and I have listened to that series several times now. But John's single message on that same passage (set in the context of lots of audible response from 3600 pastors) was poignant and moving in a truly extraordinary way. Those who were there will not soon forget it.
  
• Turns out that in person, Tim Challies ("The World's Most Famous Christian Blogger"®) is exactly like he is on line: cool, likeable, smart, and a very fast typist. He did an amazing job liveblogging. There's no way I would have wanted that duty, but he did it superbly.
  
• Doug McHone of CoffeeSwirls likewise did a great job chronicling the conference for the blogosphere. He covered many things Challies didn't have time to blog about. I think Challies needs an official sidekick, and I would like to nominate Doug as a worthy candidate.
  
• If you want an even closer peek in on what a Shepherds' Conference seminar is like, Carla Rolfe has posted the full transcript of my seminar on the "emerging church movement" at EmergentNo.blogspot.com. The transcript is long, but (I hope) worth reading. This turned out to be one of the best-attended seminars ever, and it has generated lots of discussion. (I expect this transcript will be the subject of some discussion in the blogosphere.) It seems that the whole "emerging church" phenomenon has quickly become a major concern for many Reformed, evangelical, and fundamentalist pastors.
  
• And, (speaking of fundamentalists) thanks to Jason Janz, my seminar on fundamentalism may also be read in full at SharperIron.org, complete with feedback from my fundy friends there. The consensus of my critics seems to be that because I already beat that whole topic to death last year, there wasn't much in this year's seminar that sounded new and earth-shattering. That's probably a fair evaluation, because this year's seminar was mostly a review and refinement of 200+ pages of debate and discussion I had with several fundamentalist pastors and leaders in the wake of the huge controversy caused by last year's seminar. I was trying pretty hard not to pick any new fights. (Of course, that didn't keep a few of our more irascible fundy friends from getting angry anyway.) The comments and subsequent discussion on SharperIron.org are quite worth reading. I especially liked this cartoon.
  
• Dave Doran, whose patient but candid (and challenging) dialogue made for a stimulating discussion after last year's seminar on fundamentalism, was at the conference. I think he skipped this year's seminar on fundamentalism, but I don't blame him. (I tried to skip it myself, but Darlene made me go.) And although I saw Dave twice between sessions, it was barely long enough to shake his hand. I had hoped for an opportunity to have an extended conversation with him, not about fundamentalism, but about issues I'm sure we agree on. Unfortunately, things were so hectic, we never got to do that. Missing an opportunity to get to know Dave personally was one of four great regrets I took away from the week.
  
• I also ran into C. J. Mahaney a few times but never really found an opportunity for a decent conversation with him, either. He attended my first seminar and was extremely kind to come by afterward and greet me warmly. He even waited patiently behind a mob of Pyro aficionados clamoring for bumper stickers. His smile and enthusiasm are always infectious, and I would have loved the opportunity to spend some time with him. That's my second major regret about the week. Incidentally, at one point, C. J. and Mark Dever walked by while a fundamentalist pastor was getting in my face in the courtyard between sessions. Dever punched me in the shoulder and smiled knowingly, but they kept walking and made no attempt to bail me out. I love those guys.
  
• Ligon Duncan came in Friday and spoke Saturday morning (pulling no punches) on the egalitarian-complementarian controversy. I had a brief opportunity to meet him for the first time and chat in John MacArthur's office with Al Mohler and Steve Lawson, just before that final Saturday session. My third regret is that there wasn't more time for that conversation. It was interesting to eavesdrop on what kinds of things the "Together for the Gospel" guys say when they get together. I won't reveal anything about that conversation, except to say that all these guys read PyroManiacs, so let's be on our best behavior, OK?
  
• Regret number 4 is like all the others: My very best friend for 35 years, Steve Kreloff was there, as were several more of my dearest friends in ministry, including Lance Quinn, Tom Pennington, Joe Aleppo, Chris Williams, and Doug McMasters. Dozens of other close friends and respected fellow-pastors, including Marc and Jerry Wragg, Mark Vaughan, Sean Higgins, Mike Fanning, Jack Jenkins, Ken Fuller, Jim Kirby, Scott Ardavanis, John Zimmer, and several others were there, and I barely got to talk to any of them.
  
• I did get to have lunch with John Duncan, Lig's brother. He is on staff at Ligonier Ministries, and we talked about an exciting opportunity that may soon allow Sproul, MacArthur, and the rest of the "Together for the Gospel" team to extend their broadcast ministries to satellite television. Stay tuned for more news about that development.
  
• The full pack of Fide-O dawgs were there, and it's always fun, exciting, and encouraging to mingle with them. They gave Darlene a Fide-O fridge magnet that she thinks is much more useful and tasteful than the Pyro bumper stickers and Zippo® lighters. ("Why can't you do something like this?") I dismissed the suggestion by saying fridge magnets are too effeminate for PyroManiacs, but truth be told, they're pretty cool.
  
• Speaking of the vinyl decals: they were a big hit, but my supply of about 50 was quickly exhausted. I autographed one of them with a sharpie. Somehow that one seems to have ended up on eBay.
  
• TeamPyro needs to get next year's conference on the calendar: First week of March. It would be cool if Dan, Frank, James, and Pecadillo could all be there, too. We could host a special luncheon with the hordes of bloggers and blog-readers who are there.

Addenda on the Shepherds' Conference debrief Whilst I was critiquing his movement at the Shepherds' Conference, it seems Andrew Jones called in on one of my favorite places in the whole universe. Be sure to see Nathan Busenitz's comprehensive list of blogcomments about the Shepherds' Conference. Update: The cartoon thread at SharperIron.org overran the 20-page limit in record time. Too bad. I was hoping to get the last word on that one. But Bob Topartzer, who actually did get the last word, raises a great question: One thing I have wondered about. If those who planned the Shepherds conference wanted to put Fundamentalism into perspective and Phil Johnson states he was asked to give his presentation, Why didn't they choose their own resident expert on the subject: Dr. Larry Pettegrew, M.R.E., M.Div., Th.M., from Central Baptist Seminary, Plymouth, MN. and Th.D. Dallas Seminary. His degrees are in historical Theology. He has written on the origins of Fundamentalism and the Niagara Bible conference. He taught at Pillsbury and Central for years and was Dean at Central for a period of time. He has been a Professor at Masters Seminary for several years.      His presentation would have been authoritative and he would have critical analysis.      Why Phil Johnson who is associated with the Reformed Baptists and Sovereign Grace churches that are viewed by many Fundamentalists and Evangelicals as unbalanced in ministry and extreme in some practices.? Now there's a suggestion I like. A lot. Note to self: If the masterminds who plan the seminars at the conference suggest another follow-up on fundamentalism next year, punt to Dr. Pettegrew. As of 2:00 PM Tuesday, the auction for the decal is up to $20. That's $19.85 more than I guessed it would go for. This is indeed the last of the classic decals, and the only one I ever autographed. If you want this little piece of bloghistory, it's apparently going to cost you alot more than it's really worth. I'll get nothing from it, BTW, so there is no ethical dilemma or conflict of interest if I urge you to bid higher. No shame or self-respect, either. Keep the bidding hot.

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Earthy Adjectives and Such

by Frank "expletive" Turk

Phil said this last week, off-blog:

By the way, (and here's one of those concessions I promised to my critics) I want to say that I do recognize that there are certain dangers—grave dangers—in being too independent. We all need mutual accountability, and the kind of independency I am advocating accepts and embraces that kind of accountability. I'm not suggesting that we should be free from all accountability, of course. But I would say that my primary accountability should be to my own church and my own conscience as it is subject to the Word of God—and not to the godfather of some parachurch movement in Pensacola, Florida, or Murphreesboro, Tennessee, or Longview, Texas, whose credibility rests in an honorary doctorate from a fundamentalist university.

I am enough of a Baptist to be absolutely convinced of the priesthood of the believer. And one of the ramifications of that doctrine is the truth that my individual conscience matters more before God than my loyalty to any man or movement. There is real virtue in conscientiously exercising careful, thoughtful biblical discernment and accepting personal responsibility for what I do—as opposed to mindlessly allowing the leaders of any movement to dictate the boundaries of my fellowship by standards that (I fear) are too often arbitrary, inconsistent, or even politically motivated.

Fair enough, right? Well, of course, the blogosphere replies with this bit of genteel reasoning:

I generally get what Phil is saying here, but unless I'm not parsing his words carefully enough, or if I'm just letting my bias against TRs get in the way, it seems that he's saying that he values accountability, but he doesn't value accountability. It's well and good to live true to your conscience before God according to the Scripture as you believe the Holy Spirit has helped you understand it, but if you refuse to be continually challenged in those beliefs by men who may have a better [earthy adjective meaning "discernment" omitted] than you, then you run the risk of going off the ranch in one direction or another. I'm not looking to pick a fight with him here, and if I'm missing it, I'll gladly accept correction.

The real laugh from that rejoiner is that it comes from a place in the blogosphere that itself has a real need for someone with a [earthy adjective modifying a synonym for 'discernment' omitted] about twice an hour, but to avoid the smaller controversy of who is actually conducting an exhibition of Christian dialog and who has his head stuck in his [earthy adjective modifying a synonym for 'discernment' omitted], let me disabuse the writer of his concerns over Phil's thinking.

In the first paragraph, above, Phil is saying that the believer's accountability stems from a local entity ordained by Christ to administer teaching and encouragement, not from a global corporation under any name which is seeking to centralize authority far away from the place where the rubber meets the road. The Church may be a universal object of God's affections, but it is not a universal hierarchy which requires a home office to make its corporate decisions.

In the second paragraph, Phil is simply underscoring this categorical statement defining the church as something local and human. He is not saying, "I don't haff ta listen ta no body." He's saying that the conscience of the believer is in a state of being reformed, while an organization frankly has no conscience because it is not human. A movement – fundamentalism, emergent, whatever – is inherently not the local church. The local church is lead by men who are both tested by experience and accountable to one another, while a "movement" cannot sustain such a thing. When we start following something which is not, in the first place, defined by the Bible and, in the second place, naturally seeks the place of the Bible in the life of the church and the believer, we're going to flop.

It's not about whether one has a [earthy adjective modifying a synonym for 'discernment' omitted] or needs an upgrade to one's [earthy adjective modifying a synonym for 'discernment' omitted]. It is about living our lives in harmony with the Gospel, which means living our life in harmony with the church which the Gospel requires – not more, and not less. The Gospel wasn't given to us to form an institution: it was given to save men from their sinful institutions.

Like their blogs, which cause them to say cantankerous things like [earthy adjective modifying a synonym for 'discernment' omitted].

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Spurgeon Galore!

by Phil Johnson

Your weekly dose of Spurgeon

The PyroManiacs devote Monday space to highlights from The Spurgeon Archive.



Finally! Some new Sermons at

My websites were recently moved to a new server that will enable me to modify files and upload new material from anywhere. So, to celebrate, I've formatted a bunch of sermons from the 1863 volume:

• Ben-Hadad's Escape—an Encouragement for Sinners
  
• Caleb—The Man for the Times
  
• Direction in Dilemma
  
• Encourage Your Minister
  
• Heavenly Love-Sickness!
  
• Jehovah-Shammah
  
• The Lambs and Their Shepherd
  
• Paul—His Cloak and His Books

I chose those sermons because they included "Encourage Your Minister," the sermon we excerpted here two weeks ago. It's a message that has been on my mind this week during Shepherds' Conference. Here's another excerpt:

The Pastor's Burden

Let a man carry out the office of a Christian minister aright, and he will never have any rest.

"God help," says Richard Baxter, "the man who thinks the minister's an easy life." Why, he works not only all day, but in his sleep you will find him weeping for his congregation, starting in his sleep with his eyes filled with tears, as if he had the weight of his congregation's sins resting on his heart, and could not bear the load.

I would not be that man in the ministry who does not feel himself so fearfully responsible, that if he could escape from the ministry by going with Jonah into the depths of the sea, he would cheerfully do it; for if a minister is what he should be, there is such a weight of solemn concern, such a sound of trembling in his ears, that he would choose any profession or any work, however arduous, sooner than the preacher's post. "If the watchman warn them not they shall perish, but their blood will I require at the watchman's hands." To sit down and spell over the question—"Am I free of his blood?" is terrible.

I have sometimes thought I must have a day or two of rest, but I frankly confess that rest is very little rest to me, for I think I hear the cries of perishing souls, the wailings of spirits going down to hell, who chide me thus: "Preacher, can you rest? Minister, can you be silent? Ambassador of Jesus can you cast aside the robes of your office? Up! and to your work again." As Mr. Whitefield said, when he thought of the ministry, and what was concerned in it, he wanted to stand on the top of every hackney coach in London and preach the gospel as he rode along.

If time permits, I'll also try to do a debrief on the Shepherds' Conference sometime Monday or Tuesday. It was a wonderful week. Among other things, I got to meet Tim Challies and Lig Duncan. I'll tell you all about it first chance I get.

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"Proselytism" -- "to the Jew first"

by Dan Phillips
In many portions and in divers ways, the issue of Christian "proselytizing" keeps coming up.

In some countries, it is illegal; in ours, it is disdained as being in bad taste. "I don't care if he's a Christian, so long as he keeps it to himself" -- which is not unlike, "I don't care if he's a chef, so long as he never serves any food."

Whoever says this reveals that he knows nothing about Biblical Christianity. It is tantamount to saying, "Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength -- just don't let it affect the way you think or talk about anything, and don't tell anybody about your first and greatest love. Love your neighbor as yourself -- but learn to be OK with him going to Hell without you telling him the Word by which he might hear and be brought to saving faith."

In other words, "Be a Christian... just don't be a Christian!"

I'm thinking about this in connection with the Jerry Falwell incident. By now, you probably know about the initial Jerusalem Post (false) report that Falwell had been persuaded that Jews had an alternate way to Heaven that didn't require faith in Jesus. Frank Turk immediately did what I then immediately wished I'd done, which was to email Falwell directly. I've learned from Frank yet again, and am humbled and grateful for it.

Falwell put out A GRACIOUS CORRECTION OF THE JERUSALEM POST, in which he very clearly affirmed the exclusivity of the Gospel.

Thursday, the Jerusalem Post cleared the record. In fact, one wishes that the Washington Post and the NYT would learn from the objectivity and thoroughness with which the Jerusalem Post reports Falwell's categorical denial of their misreporting.

But my attention was caught by how WorldNetDaily reports this. In this unsigned article, the wording caught my eye and set me to thinking. To me, it reflects (not maliciously, I assume) the same perspective that fueled the original mis-reporting. Here is part, emphases added:

Evangelist Jerry Falwell has a beef with the Jerusalem Post after the newspaper published an article suggesting he's changed his beliefs about salvation, now thinking Jews can get to heaven without becoming Christians first.

"Falwell: Jews can get to heaven," is how the headline read on a story by Ilan Chaim, with its lead sentence stating: "An evangelical pastor and an Orthodox rabbi, both from Texas, have apparently persuaded leading Baptist preacher Jerry Falwell that Jews can get to heaven without being converted to Christianity."

The wording is of the sort that reflects the thought that what Christians are trying to do is get Jews to stop being Jews. This plays into the frequent charge that evangelism is anti-Semitic, or almost genocidal. The assumption is that "you can't be a Jew and a Christian."

Now of course, behind this lies the greater and long-debated issue: "What is a Jew?" Even Jews have differing views on this.

But let's reflect a moment on the perspective that what Christians are saying is that a Jew has to stop being a Jew, and be a Christian instead, to go to Heaven. The original story reflects that it is shared by many in Israel; you and I know from experience that it is shared by Jews and others everywhere.

I think of a Jewish lady I know and like. When I mentioned in passing "a Jewish friend at my church," she stopped me right there. There is no such thing, I was told, with some mild profanity for emphasis. If he believed in Jesus, he wasn't a Jew anymore. "What is he, then?" I asked. "Mexican?"

We then had the start of an interesting talk. Think of it: here is a woman who does not believe that the Old Testament is the inerrant Word of God, but who does define herself as a Jew, and does feel herself in a position to pronounce against the Jewishness of a man who does believe that the Old Testament is the Word of God. Others have no problem calling atheists "Jews." But not Jews who admit that Jesus is the Messiah. They're not Jews anymore.

There's something wrong with that.

By starkest contrast, as a Christian who -- unlike most Jews -- actually and emphatically believes in the Divine origin of every word of the Old Testament, I would say you can't be a Jew (except ethnically) without being a Christian.

Being a Christian by definition means believing what Jesus taught. Jesus taught that the Old Testament was the inerrant Word of God, and that it pointed to Him. Therefore, being a Christian necessarily and definitionally involves believing every word of the Old Testament, and believing that it finds its fulfillment in Christ.

Jesus claimed, emphatically and repeatedly, to be the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. I'm sure you share my wish that you could have heard Him opening up the Word to the men on the road to Emmaus, and to the disciples afterwards (Luke 24:25-27, 44-49). If He isn't the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies, then Jesus was wrong. If Jesus were wrong, I wouldn't believe in Him.

But I do believe in Him. This necessarily means that I believe that the Old Testament legitimately and actually reveals and points to Him. I do not believe it was a secret codebook; I do not believe that Jesus or the apostles rewrote it, or altered its meaning. I don't believe that the relationship of the Old and New Testament is "bait and switch."

Plain enough? Painfully?

This all means that, as a Christian, I believe that if someone reads the Old Testament and is not pointed to Jesus, he is reading it wrongly. Put another way, I believe that anyone who reads the Old Testament rightly will believe in Jesus. Affirming the truth of the Old Testament necessarily involves affirming the truth of Jesus.

In other words, I really do believe Jesus. (Breaking news! Christians believe Christ! Film at eleven!)

Let's be even more specific. If I believe Deuteronomy 18:15-22 (especially v. 19), then I must believe that a Jew must believe Jesus, or he is in the exact same category as the Jews in the wilderness who (A) refused to enter Canaan when Yahweh told them to go in, and then (B) refused to stay out when He said to start wandering in the desert (Numbers 13-14). He is ethnically a Jew, but he is an unbeliever (see Isaiah 1:4ff.).

The issue is not being a Jew, per se, any more than it is being a Christian, per se. It isn't a matter of religious self-categorization, much less ethnic identity.

The issue is what it has always been: what you and I do with God's Word. And God's Word points to Jesus.

So the issue is what you and I do with Jesus.

So when I call Jews to believe in Jesus, I'm not calling them to stop being Jews, per se -- depending on what you mean by "Jew." I do not accept the definition of a "Jew" as "someone who doesn't believe in Jesus." If a Jew (or anyone else) does not believe in Jesus, he does not believe in the Old Testament, among other things. And I have a problem with saying that someone is a "Jew," other than ethnically, if he does not believe in the Old Testament.

Whether for Jews, Mexicans, Americans, Russians, or anyone else, the issue is Jesus. Everything else grows out of that one central reality.

Where did I get that idea? Same place I ultimately get all my best ideas: from Jesus.

Do not think that I will accuse you to the Father. There is one who accuses you: Moses, on whom you have set your hope. 46 If you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote of me. 47 But if you do not believe his writings, how will you believe my words?”
(John 5:45-47)

Retail Madness

by Frank "Retail Harlot" Turk

When we first put up the junk shop, there was a somewhat-noisy cry for the most-obviously missing item: flip-top lighters.

Our e-tail partner (cafepress.com) has about 100 different items they can put your graphics on, but lighters ain't one of the items. Apparently they have some safety-fascist code of ethics that will not allow them to sell any products related to the tobacco industry. This makes me sad.

However, I have found a vendor who can source the lighters and customize them, but (and this will make you sad) they will retail at $30 $10 plus shipping -- if I can get 50 pre-paid zealots to pony up in order to go to press. What kills us on the price is set-up fees for the first run.

So let the wondering about lighters cease; if I can get 50 people to say, "yes, I want one", and then get all 50 of them to pre-pay for the lighters, we can get some of these made.

Now back to your wrangling about theology.

UPDATED: A quick count of responses so far is that we can muster about 30 orders for the premium Zippo lighters, but that's a straw poll. If you are interested in the $30 Zippo, click this link and send the e-mail, and make sure you list the QTY you want in the message. I'm thinking I can collect the pre-payments via Paypal, but to do that I need the e-mails for the people who are going to pre-pay. The other great thing about Paypal is that if we don't get orders for 50, I can release all the prepayments without ever actually handling the cash.

Note that you will need a paypal account to pay. If that causes troubles, let's find that out now.

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Evangelicalism in disarray

by Phil Johnson

Note: Today at the Shepherds' Conference I'll be teaching a seminar analyzing the current evangelical infatuation with building ecumenical bridges to Rome. Here's part of what I'll be saying:

Have you noticed that no one defines evangelicalism in theological terms anymore? When a person says he is an "evangelical" nowadays, more often than not he is describing an experience, or a particular style of ministry, or an interest in the pragmatics of evangelism, or something like that. The word evangelical has been stripped of virtually all doctrinal content.

In fact, over the past decade, mainstream evangelicals have been assaulted with a number of trends and movements whose aim seems to be to make evangelicals let go of all their doctrinal distinctives.

• There is the pragmatism of the church growth movement, which encourages pastors to downplay doctrine (because doctrine is "too academic") and focus only on the practical aspects of the Christian faith. In the worst cases, some preachers deliver material on relationships and success that is devoid of any authentically Christian message.
  
• There is the anti-intellectualism that dominates large segments of the charismatic movement, which also downplays doctrine and suggests that experience is more important.
  
• There is the neo-ecumenism of groups like Promise Keepers, encouraging men to seek unity by ignoring doctrine and doctrinal differences.
  
• There is the intense pressure to lay aside our doctrinal distinctives in order to forge a political coalition with all who share our views on the great moral issues of the day.
  
• There are various campaigns to redefine the doctrine of justification in Protestant circles. This is a common theme among many who are enthralled with "The New Perspective on Paul," the sacramental presbyterianism represented by the Auburn Avenue Theology, so-called "reformed Catholicism," and other crypto-Romanist movements.
  
• And now there is an infatuation with postmodern ways of thinking, which is flourishing in the Emerging Church movement, denying that propositions really matter and thus (in effect) rendering all doctrine moot in one violent act of epistemological suicide.

All of those things have worked to the detriment of sound doctrine among evangelicals. Now we have reached the point where evangelicalism, a movement historically defined in doctrinal terms, has ironically become a movement where doctrine is now often portrayed as something evil, divisive, and unbrotherly.

Mention the importance of sound doctrine in the typical gathering of mainstream evangelicals these days, and you are certain to be labeled contentious, quarrelsome, divisive—or worse.

The obvious casualty in all of this is the gospel.

Both Roman Catholics and Protestants have insisted for five centuries that their disagreement is a dispute about the gospel. If that is an accurate assessment of the debate (I think it is; and I certainly see no good reason to question 500 years of Catholic-evangelical agreement on that point) then we cannot possibly set aside our differences and enter into communion and fellowship with one another without also setting aside the gospel.

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