neumatikos

Alexander Jordan’s disconcertion has become my revelation. Up to now, the Calvinist/Arminian debate was something like Emily Dickinson’s fly – something on the barest horizon of attention, not even worthy to be considered in the light of more momentous things, which suddenly becomes The Point and consumes everything. No, I’m not saying that I discovered Reformed theology, and it was as if I had been born again (again). I mean the realization this particular divide, which seems so academic, tends to be so thoroughly embedded in the church’s worldview

The charismatic movement ruined the divide. Somewhere around the beginning of the worship wars, when churches all over were switching from organs to guitars, something else was happening that sort of rode along with the more visible “praise and worship” movement. Believers from every tradition began to understand the work of the Holy Spirit in a more robust way, a way that included all the activity described in the New and Old Testaments. Perhaps they were witnesses to demonstrations of His power, or perhaps they read the text without the benefit of explanations why these things were no longer models for Christian life.

As believers began to study these things, often there was no voice in their own group teaching about the work of the Holy Spirit. So they had to look outside their own borders, and it’s just the nature of things that as people learned about the Holy Spirit, they also took on the cultural trappings of whatever group it was they were learning from. Continue reading “Mixed Tradition”

Theologies aren’t merely points on a graph. Every Christian understanding creates a framework on which to hang all the rest. I’ll show you how this works with Arminian Pentecostalism: One of the key scriptures for understanding the basis for supernatural healing has always been Isaiah 53:5, “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,and by His stripes we are healed.” There have been any number of sermons on healing given based on this text, and I’m sure you could do a lot of in-depth exegesis, but the key point is to see that there appears to be a direct connection between forgiveness of sin and physical healing: both are dispensed to us on the basis of what Jesus suffered on the cross. You can make a similar argument from Mark 2:9, “Which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Arise, take up your bed and walk’?” Apparently, they are roughly equivalent.

Now watch this: An Arminian comes to these texts and sees that healing comes about by roughly the same process as justification. But the Arminian believes that saving faith is made available to all who will come, and ultimately the choice whether to be saved is up to each one of us. If I am going to be saved, then I must take the initiative and believe. I must reach out by faith and appropriate the salvation that has been made available to me. Apply this to healing, and you’ll hear people saying the same thing: God has made supernatural healing available to all who believe. He already paid the price for both on the Cross. All you must do is reach out by faith and appropriate the healing that has been made available to you.

But “which is easier, to say to the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven you,’ or to say, ‘Arise, take up your bed and walk’?” For Jesus, I suppose it was roughly the same. But for us today, it’s much easier to say “your sins are forgiven.” Continue reading “By His Stripes”

Given a choice, I have a tendency to pick the most difficult, most time consuming option, and sorting my theology out has been no exception. For the last 8 years or so, I’ve been assimilating, generally in a haphazard way as I uncover assumptions that seem to contradict each other. Seminary has been very helpful for me in this respect, because it has forced me to be a little less haphazard in the process, and it has put me in touch with the vast array of theological approaches to any given subject. Reading blogs has also helped, ironically sometimes more than the seminary. In seminary I’m presented with bare theological arguments, generally stripped of their encultured form, but if I’m reading someone’s blog and they express the exact same argument, I can see it fully fleshed in someone’s life.

In seminary I learn that Protestant Christians can be divided into two basic camps, depending on their view of salvation: Calvinism and Arminianism. Calvinists (or Reformed Theologians, since the major thrust of the Protestant reformation came through churches organized by John Calvin) understand that man is totally depraved, that he cannot even supply the faith that is necessary to believe on Jesus Christ. Therefore, in order that men might be saved, God has selected some on which to bestow saving faith, essentially guaranteeing that they will persevere until the end. Since ultimately not everyone is saved, this means that other people are… not selected. Arminians generally take umbrage at the notion that God might have especially picked out some people to go to hell, since it seems to make God out to be capricious. (This is good. The first rule of theology should be, “if your theology at any point makes God out to be evil, stop. You’ve done something wrong.”) So Arminians insist that, while God has in fact foreseen who will and will not believe, he dispenses sufficient faith to everyone, and we each have a totally free choice whether or not to believe. The Calvinist replies that Arminian theology allows a person to take credit for making the right choice, turning faith into a kind of work. And the argument goes round and round.

In seminary I learn that the charismatic movement has its roots in Arminian theology. The charismatic movement takes its views on the supernatural from the Pentecostal denominations, and Pentecostals trace their roots back through the African Methodist Episcopal churches (AME). Methodism was founded by John Wesley, who was the probably the biggest proponent of Arminian theology in church history. He did more to promote Arminianism than Jacob Arminius.

These things are interesting, but it was on a weblog that I see how this affects the mindset of the believer: In this post, Alexander Jordan discusses the fact that, even as he’s being recognized as an important voice among charismatic/Pentecostal bloggers, he’s becoming uncomfortable with the whole system. The reason? He’s become a Calvinist. He still adamantly believes that the Spirit still does all the things described in scripture, but he’s “been questioning [his] beliefs about many popular charismatic practices.” To put some words in his mouth, they’re so… Arminian.

This was really an eye-opener for me. Lately I’ve also been settling more comfortably on the Calvinist side of things. To be honest, part of the appeal has been that Calvinists, because of their theology, tend to be more contemplative. The emphasis tends to be on study, on understanding what Christ has already accomplished. Having a worldview that is cohesive and all-encompassing is very important to most Calvinists. Since this is exactly what I’ve been looking for (you might say missing) most of what I’ve been reading, most of what’s been appealing to me, has been Reformed in nature. Arminians, again because of their theology, tend to be more active – the important thing is the working out of your faith, because it is quite possible to fall away.

But it’s been a great frustration for me, because a good number of Calvinists are cessationist. A very good Reformed theologian in the 19th century bought into the semi-deistic materialism of his time, and made a genuine effort at assimilating it into his theology, and the majority of Reformed Christians have been cessationist ever since. I couldn’t understand why these people couldn’t see the error that was right before them. It never occurred to me that it was because Pentecostalism… smelled… so Arminian.

Having a shallow tradition was all very fine until things stopped adding up for me. Acting on assumption “A” in my tradition brought me into direct conflict with assumption “B.” I remember a time at my church when I was asked to give a five-minute message on giving before taking up the evening’s offering. I drew on the teachings I was raised in and attempted to present a shorter version of a message I had heard in another church that I’d been a part of. It was a flop. I don’t remember much of what I said, except that after I’d finished, the pastor came up and took the microphone away from me and, half-jokingly said, “and now if you could just make your checks out to Kyle French…” Obviously something had gone wrong. *That* bit of background didn’t fit with *this* particular church. I resolved then never to say anything again that I hadn’t thoroughly reasoned out beforehand. (You have no idea how difficult this has made teaching Sunday School!)

Typically, I think, when a person comes to an impasse like this, and they discover that they really don’t know what they’re talking about, they normally take one of two options: Continue reading “Hold Fast to What is Good”