Test post

Testing 1, 2, 3.

Is Trichotomy a theological threat?

I posted the following comment to a post titled “Trichotomy--A Beachhead for Gnostic Influences” at The Riddleblog today at about 9:30 a.m. (U.S. Eastern Time):

James Montgomery Boice advocated the trichotomist position in Foundations of the Christian Faith,” revised in one volume, (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1986), 151-153, and 201-204. On 204 he showed the implications of trichotomy for his doctrine of man when he wrote: “When Adam sinned, the spirit died instantly, with the result that all men and women since are born with what we may call dead spirits. The soul began to die. In that area the contagion may be said to be spreading, with the result that we are increasingly captivated by sin. The remaining part of human nature, the body, dies last.” As I see it, that was about the extent of trichotomism’s impact on his theology. I don’t find it sending him off into the kinds of unbiblical views you cited in other trichotomists.

I am personally unconvinced by his arguments, and find myself in agreement with reasons given by Berkhof and others for assuming the dichotomist position. However, Boice obviously did not see any similarity
between trichotomy and gnosticism, for he wrote, “There is an ongoing debate between those who believe in a three-part construction of our being and those who believe that man can properly be considered on only two levels. The debate need not overly concern us.” (151) He went on to posit that it was merely a question of whether the immaterial part of man could be further distinguished between soul and spirit, and thus a technical matter. I believe he was well aware of the contemporary aberrations of Chafer, Smith, Ryrie, etc., but he didn’t think they were connected to trichotomism.

Furthermore, I have not detected any evidence that Boice succumbed to the primary concern you raise when you write: “For if we are essentially spirit rather than flesh, as the trichotomists propose, then, in effect, we establish the same kind of dualistic hierarchy associated with classic Gnosticism, in which the spirit is exalted above both soul and body.” Not only do I not see any gnostic dualism in Boice’s writings, but I don’t see him proposing that “we are essentially spirit rather than flesh.” That idea does not seem to be inherent in trichotomism, even though one may find it among various trichotomists.

Again, I am not a trichotomist. But all this keeps me from seeing how it is true that, “Whether we intend to do so or not, we have opened the door wide to the essence of Gnosticism, namely, that matter is evil and spirit is good. If we adopt the trichotomist understanding of human nature, we inevitably set up the same dualistic conception of reality in which the Gnostic impulse thrives...” I suppose we could say that Boice was simply an exception to the general rule, but I think it would be better if we could find more explicit connections between trichotomy and dualism in the writings of trichotomist authors whose thinking has actually accomodated dualism before tainting all trichotomists with even the suspicion of gnostic influences.

On the surface, at least, dichotomy, which is itself an apparent dualism (body and soul/spirit) would seem just as susceptible (perhaps more so) to gnostic dualistic affinities as trichotomy. If anything, it seems to me that trichotomy should be more susceptible to some sort of trialism (see http://www.philosophyprofessor.com/philosophies/trialism.php on this subject) than dualism.

In any case, I personally do not see how dichotomy immunizes one’s theology against this threat. You yourself assert out that the dichotomist Ryrie did not avoid it, because it found its way into his theology through the “back door” of his “carnal Christian” doctrine.

Thus I remain, until persuaded otherwise, a happy dichotomist who does not sense the need to look askance at all his trichotomist brethren.

Must Counter-Cult Lay Apologists Also Become Cross-Cultural Missiologists?

I posted the following comment (with a typo corrected) to a post titled “Cross-Cultural Hermeneutics Course Aims: Why Are They Missing Elsewhere?” at John Morehead’s blog today at 12:59 p.m. (U.S. Eastern Time):

John,

You wrote: "These goals represent those common in missiology. To what extent do we see them desired, emphasized and utilized among American evangelicals working in the area of new religions and alternative spiritualities in the West? I don't see much of it. Why is this the case?"

I would suggest that it could be because either (a) the case has yet to be made that new religions and alternative spiritualities possess "cultures" of their own to a degree sufficient to make such methodological goals applicable to the task of evangelizing them, or (b) the case actually has been made, but has either not been adequately disseminated or sufficiently grasped by the community that is actively reaching out to those groups. I think most would agree that our general culture is riddled with sub-cultures, and that these sub-cultures generally display traits that separate them from other sub-cultures within the broader culture of our society. Furthermore, I have found in my reading of books that may be classified as part of the "counter-cult" genre at least some awareness of the various "cultural" features of new religions and alternative spiritualities. For example, if one studies Jehovah's Witnesses for even a modest length of time it's difficult to avoid knowing that the Watchtower Society defines "knowing God" as "taking in knowledge about God," and "faith" as "exercising faith" in a manner that is tantamount to, or at least feeds directly into, a system of works-righteousness. And some counter-cult literature takes pains to point this out. While it may be possible to object to the way those ministries respond to this awareness, and while they may not think of it as the kind of "cultural difference" that missiologists deal with, at least they've exhibited an awareness of this difference in the use of language, and have taken it into account in their evangelistic approaches.

Now I would be the last person to minimize the importance of the field of cross-cultural hermeneutics. But I would also be the last person to insist that its findings are applicable everywhere and in all cases to reaching new religions and alternative spiritualities. Instead I would ask, to what extent must we become expert in cross-cultural methodologies in order to adequately communicate the Gospel to, say, to our next-door neighbor who happens to be a Mormon--especially when the level of culture we already share (and thus the number of tools for communication at are disposal) by virtue of being early-21st century Americans is probably greater than the differences that separate our religious "cultures?"

The significance of this question for me is enhanced when I read Dr. Priest's "cognitive" point A.5: "understanding of communication theory and of those elements of culture related to interpersonal interaction and to the communicative task (e.g. body language, symbols, media of communication, interaction styles, etc.)." I have enough formal training in communication theory (at the undergrad level) to know that much of what is taught under this heading academically has been commonly known and studied informally by millions (especially salespeople) since time immemorial. It's not that learning about it in an academic setting would be useless--in fact, I would encourage more people to pursue it, since it can even be of some help to those who already possess such knowledge more intuitively. But I think we should at least give credit to those who've been doing hard work of evangelizing members of new religions face-to-face for years now when they're obviously able to read non-verbal communication signals from other members of their own broader culture. Most of the ones I've worked with have demonstrated mastery of those basic techniques.

You also wrote:

"Why does missiology seem to have lofty aims in its understanding and methodology but they seem sorely lacking in apologetic approaches? Should we not aspire to these worthy aims?"

The short answer to these questions would be: for centuries apologetics has traditionally been practiced as a department of Systematic Theology, rather than as a department of evangelism and missions studies, which is a fairly new animal in the Christian academy. The early counter-cult authors did not create this situation. It was simply they way they found things when they began to ply their trades.

The longer answer involves understanding how academic specialization has affected Christian biblical and theological studies.

One thing I learned in pursuit of my M.A. in Biblical Studies at the Wheaton College Graduate School is that due to its multi-disciplinary nature the study of Evangelism and Missions has tended to orbit a different galactic cluster than have the other academic specializations of Biblical Studies, Systematic Theology, and Biblical Archaeology. Even in areas where Evangelism and Missions studies seem to overlap with other specializations, the differences are pronounced. For example: Systematic Theology studies Church History primarily trace the development of doctrine. Evangelism and Missions studies it for things like the history spiritual revivals.

Thus one problem that I believe has developed as academic specialization increased--quite ironically!--is that in the pursuit of all things cross-cultural, missiology has developed its own unique theological sub-culture (complete with its own vocabulary, its own canon of scholarly literature, its own shibboleths, etc.) that sometimes makes it difficult for those from the other specializations to understand what they're trying to say. The constellations of thought in the missiologists's night sky are thus so different that those who are more accustomed to viewing constellations of thoughts as a systematic theologian don't always fully understand their
descriptions. One of the few points-of-contact other specializations have with missiologists is the relatively new area of philosophical hermeneutics (which didn't really come into its own until the 20th century), which helps their discipline to overlap somewhat with that of (and thus become somewhat more accessible to) Biblical Studies and Systematics.

It's not that this chasm is unbridgeable, and in fact it seems to be narrowing as missiologists begin to carry their missiological inferences into the realms of theological conclusions (which sometimes causes feathers to fly!). And perhaps this is only the natural state of a relatively new discipline as its incubation period (and consequent relative isolation from other disciplines) comes to an end. But if bridging the chasm is challenging enough for the academic community, how much more is it for the lay apologetics community?

I think patience is called for here. While it's true that some in the counter-cult community are simply curmudgeons who need lessons in tact, I don't think the problem will be solved (especially for that personality type!) by sending them off packing to courses in cross-cultural communication. Instead, I think that the fruits of missiological study must be patiently shared with those in other theological disciplines, those in ministry, and with the church in general, because in my opinion only as those fruits become accessible to the church, and are accepted by the church as compatible with Scripture, can we expect them to be acted on by those in the church, including those doing the work of apologists for the faith.

Institutionalism, paid clergy, church programs, the canon of Scripture, and the early church

I posted the following text (with one typo now corrected) to a Christmas Eve post titled “Subversive Can Openers” at John Morehead’s blog today at 6:43 p.m. (U.S. Eastern Time):

"The early church had no buildings, no paid clergy, no programs (not even for families and children!), and no agreed upon canon of Scripture..." An interesting series of statements, to say the least. I think you're asking some important questions here, but I've always interpreted 1 Timothy 5:17-18 as indicating that the early church had paid elders. And as Kenneth Scott Latourette wrote, "As early as the beginning of the second century a differentiation between clergy and laity began to be seen..." "A History of Christianity," Volume 1: to A.D. 1500, (San Francisco, CA: HarperCollins, 1975), 183. And I've always seen 1 Timothy 5:3-16 as a description of a church program for the support of widows. As for the issue of the canon of Scripture in the 1st century church, I recommend consulting "Holy Writings, Sacred Text: The Canon in Early Christianity," by John Barton of Oxford (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997) before anachronistically reading later canonical concepts into the frist three centuries of church history and then drawing rash conclusions about how the church of those years treated what we now call the canon. Much work still needs to be done in the area of the early church's view of the canon. But none of this negates the essential value of the question I hear you asking: is something (an informal network of people, an institution with regular meetings, or whatever) a church simply because it calls itself a church, even though it doesn't function in any way similar to the way the early church did? But then, to where should we turn for an authoritative description of the early church, and which of their diverse writings should we view as normative for us today? It also seems to me that you're using the word "institution" more in the sense of "institutionalism," i.e., "emphasis on organization (as in religion) at the expense of other factors" ("Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary," [Springfield, MA: G. & C. Merriam Co., 1977], 599), the "other factors" being what really matters, whereas calling the church an "institution" simply implies that it was established (instituted), or that it has some sort of organizational structure, both of which I find impossible to avoid in reality. Unless you indicate otherwise I'll assume you're writing about what I refer to
as institutionalism, in which case you have my wholehearted agreement that it is as far from the intentions of Christ and his apostles as you can get. When it takes root in any church, its spiritual vitality immediately begins to die.

emerging conversation

I started a new blog this morning called “Emerging Conversation” in which I’m trying to initiate a conversation about the Emerging Church. I realize that there’s an awful lot on the Web about this subject, but that fact only highlights the challenge: where does one begin? Is there primary text, or a canon of literature I may consult? I’ve also noticed that much of the material on the Net is of a contentious nature. And I understand that some of that contention has also been committed to print. While I’ve never been one to avoid a good debate, in the spirit of Renaissance humanism (Ad fontes! — “To the sources!”) I think I should first familiarize myself with what the emerging movers and shakers are actually saying and doing before expressing any opinion of my own. And since this emergence has been going on for some time, it will probably take a while before I feel qualified to have an opinion, which, when I finally get it, I hope to express in a loving spirit.

Meanwhile, as I was going about the business of setting up this new blog, my first choice for a name was “Emerging Church,” but apparently that one is already taken (even though there currently doesn’t appear to be an actual blog at that blogspot sub-domain). So then I chose “Emergent Church,” though little did I know that someone had actually already started blogging there—over a year ago, however, which is probably why Blogger.com allowed me to usurp that sub-domain and start blogging right over the previous posts. I discovered this fact accidentally, and truly regretted defacing someone else’s work, no matter how neglected it may have been. So I suppose this is a lesson to all of us who use Blogger: don’t allow your blogs to sit idle for too many months if you expect to keep them. In the end I didn’t like the name, and if I don’t delete it I may use it as a place to store interesting citations from Emerging Church literature.

free country

Last night, as I was preparing to read chapter 4 of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to Ben, I noticed that he was watching a particularly dark episode of some cop profiler drama, and I registered my disapproval with Wendy. Ben entered the discussion with his usual flair, objecting to our efforts to circumscribe his TV viewing, with his climactic line being, "This is a free country! I have my rights!"

He's only seven. Where does he get this stuff?