I was contemplating Galatians 5.17  - For what the flesh desires is opposed to the Spirit, and what the Spirit desires is opposed to the flesh; for these are opposed to each other, to prevent you from doing what you want  (NRSV) – which brought me to Thomas Watson’s The Godly Man’s Picture.   Watson, in section 19 of the booklet, describes the saint who struggles with sin.  Here are a few of my favorite quotes.

“Though sin lives in him [the godly person], yet he does not live in sin.”

“Though sin is in him, he is troubled at it and would gladly get rid of it. …Sin in a wicked man is delightful, being in its natural place, but sin in a child of God is burdensome and he uses all means to expel it.”

“If we would have peace in our souls, we must maintain a war against our favorite sin and never leave off till it is subdued.”

“Grace and sin may be together, but grace and the love of sin cannot.  Therefore parley [meet] with sin no longer, but with the spear of mortification, spill the heart-blood of every sin.”

“A godly man dare not travel for riches along the devil’s highway.”

So Luther said that the Christian life means a severe struggle which never abates until we leave this world.

shane lems

sunnyside wa

A while back, I stumbled over this passage in the Pesher to Habakkuk (from Qumran):

Thou dealest with men like the fish of the sea, like creeping things, to rule over them. They draw [them all up with a fish-hook], and drag them out with their net, and gather them in [their seine. Therefore they sacrifice] to their net. Therefore they rejoice [and exult and burn incense to their seine; for by them] their portion is fat [and their sustenance rich] (i, 14-16)

[[this refers to]] VI the Kittim. And they shall gather in their riches, together with all their booty, like the fish of the sea. And as for that which He said, Therefore they sacrifice to their net and burn incense to their seine: interpreted, this means that they sacrifice to their standards and worship their weapons of war.

1QpHab 5.12-6.5 (cited in The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English [Trans. Geza Vermes; Rev ed; London: Penguin Books, 2004], 512). (Words in double brackets are my addition.)

I was unfamiliar with the expression “sacrificing to a net” or a “standard” and wondered if this should be translated in some other way.  I couldn’t think of any likely sounding alternatives though.  Something I read in Josephus’ The Jewish War, however, made me think that this expression was probably fairly standard in antiquity.

After recording the sack of Jerusalem by Titus and the Roman army, Josephus writes:

As the partisans had fled into the City, and flames were consuming the Sanctuary itself and all its surroundings, the Romans brought their standards into the Temple area, and erecting them opposite the East Gate sacrificed to them there, and with thunderous acclamations hailed Titus as Imperator.

Jewish War, 6.316. (cited in The Jewish War [Trans. G.A. Williamson; Rev ed; London: Penguin Books, 1981], 363).

The end note to this section offers some words of clarification:

Military standards, both the legionary eagles and the standards of auxiliary units … and sections of legions, were objects of reverence and even of cult. This is a unique literary reference to actual sacrifice to them.

The Jewish War, 453 n. 23

Of course, the citation in 1QpHab shows that that this literary reference isn’t completely unique. Still, it is interesting to find such a parallel. In Habakkuk, the traitors/wicked are depicted as fishermen who drag the righteous into his net and once he has landed his catch, attributes all providence and glory to the nets themselves (Hab 1.13-16). In these battle scenes from 1QpHab and Josephus, the armies are glorying in their battle implements, essentially giving spiritual/divine power to them.

This may help to understand why the Psalmist is so horrified in Ps 74.4:

Those hostile against you have roared in the midst of your meeting place
They have placed their signs (standards?) as signs.

The ruined sanctuary of God is now the site of worship for pagan worship. Rather than a place devoted to the worship of YHWH, it is now a place to worship military cults (provided the setting up of the ‘ot is indeed the setting up of a military standard, which seems quite likely). While we don’t know what “sacrificing to standards” (or nets) might have looked like and what precisely it represented (e.g., worship of the war god? Gods of Rome? The emperor or king?), it is interesting to find this parallel written by Jewish writers with regard to the Roman army (1QpHab and Josephus; Hab 1.16 excepted.)

_________________
Andrew

I finally finished this: An Emergent Manifesto of Hope (ed. by Doug Pagitt and Tony Jones).  As you may know from earlier posts, I’m about as Emergent as a dead stick.  At the same time, the “movement” fascinates me, and is something I as a pastor want to know something about.  Also, to be sure, the movement makes some good points.  I’ll acknowledge that despite my deep disagreement with much of the theology and piety of the Emergent movement, some things I read by them are helpful.  But instead of discussing Emergent (smarter guys have done it already quite well), I’ll give a few comments on the aforementioned book.

The book has five parts:  1) A People of Hope,  2) Communities of Hope, 3) A Hopeful Faith, 4) A Hopeful Way Forward, and 5) Hopeful Activism.  In each section, around 5 or 6 Emergent type leaders write on differing topics, from jail church to social justice to Karl Barth to sexual ethics to transforming culture.  The book is one you certainly want to get if you need a small and very easy to read window into the Emergent movement. 

On thing I appreciated about the book was that the authors understand our “day” is different from the “day” of 50 or 100 years ago.  I realize some in “conservative” churches are entrenched in the past, using old grammar, language, illustrations, totally unwilling to step into this century.  Again, despite my theological disagreement with how they handle our new “day,” I enjoyed some aspects of how they described it. 

I also enjoyed the chapter on the church in the jail (by Thomas Olson) as well as the chapters on Karl Barth (by Chris Eerdman) and humble theology (by Dan Kimball).  I’m not convinced by Eerdman as he compared Barth’s Church Dogmatics with Brian McLaren’s ”broad ecclesiology” – though I see some truths in the statement, that in some ways Barth and McLaren are similar (p.241).  Kimball’s chapter was so doctrinal that it almost doesn’t fit in the book!  Some authors in the book were saying quite negative things about fundamental theological beliefs, while Kimball advocated the need to hold on to fundamental beliefs (p. 215).  I’d say things a bit differently than Kimball, but the chapter does stick out for me.

I also was quite frustrated with certain aspects of the book.  First, the buzzwords drove me nuts.  How many times can you say “explore” and  ”post-colonial” and “adventure” and “authentic” and “community” and “generative” and “missional” and “conversation” in a single book?  I suppose the buzzwords might have to do with the internet aspect of the Emerging churches.  Buzzwords and internet go hand in hand.

Some aspects of the book were pretty offensive for me.  Though the words “hope” and “future” were all over the place, many of the authors were totally stomping on the historic or “old-school” church.  I was offended when they criticized “modern” churches for being so exclusive and disruptive to families.  For example, on page 53, Carla Barnhill critiques modern churches: In many churches, “There is little help for parents who struggle with a difficult child. There is little room for imperfect families.”  She goes on to say how Emerging churches are much more family-friendly than traditional churches because they are so much more inclusive and diverse than anything else.  This is pretty offensive, not just incorrect.  In the “old-school” churches I’m in, and grew up in, I have seen a group of mothers take turns helping a troubled family for weeks on end – food, cash, and prayers.  A month ago, after church, I saw an 82-year-old woman teaching some 13-year-old girls how to do needle work for their school project.   I’m not sure how you could improve on that kind of help and inclusiveness - this stuff just happens without all the blog buzzwords and talk.

The book also has an underlying theme: white, middle-class Americans (especially males) are to blame for most of the problems in Christianity.  It is my fault the Enlightenment happened, it is my fault that the church is patriarchal, it is my fault that there is racism, it is my fault that churches are fragmenting.  There may be glimmers of truth to some of those statements, and I’m far from perfect, but all those implicit accusations soon became offensive to me.  The only solution to the problems I’ve caused, the book implies, is to become Emergent, then my white-maleness will somehow be erased.  I’m not sure what to do with this undercurrent of the book!

In summary, there were some helpful things in the book and I’m glad I own it.  Some chapters made me want to put it in the compost pile to see if the ink really is biodegradable; other chapters left me pondering a few things.   I could note a few more things; this was just a very short review.  Maybe some other day I’ll post a tad more about it.

shane lems

sunnyside wa

 As I mentioned in my last post (something I’m sure many of you know), there is a huge movement in the broader American/Western church which rejects all church authority.  The Jesus-figure in The Shack clearly hints that office and authority structure in the church get in the way of one’s relationship with himself.  Evangelical church-goers also sometimes have the same mindset, saying that one finds God outside of the church, that elders and pastors are of no real help to the Christian. 

What’s worse – probably – is that some of these “church-institution-rejecters” cite the early church as their model, as if the early church was a homey, dynamic, organic commune with no real leadership structure.  They blame later bishops and pastors for foisting a hierarchy on the church, which made it institutional.  Well, to be blunt, that is just wrong.  The early church didn’t float around without officers, elders, bishops, and deacons.  For one example, 1 Clement, one of the earliest post-NT epistles, was written from Christians in Rome to Christians in Corinth (c. 95 AD). 

In the opening, the church at Corinth is praised for her piety, hospitality, and love of truth.  Then, they are commended for living “in accordance with the laws of God, submitting yourselves to your leaders and giving to the older men (presbuterois) among you the honor due them” (1 Cl 1.3).  Later in the letter, the Roman Christians address some sort of revolt/schism that happened in Corinth (about which scholars arm-wrestle).  Here’s their advice.

“You…who laid the foundation of the revolt must submit to the presbyters (presbuterois) and accept discipline leading to repentance, bending the knees of your heart.  Learn how to subordinate yourselves, laying aside the arrogant and proud stubbornness of your tongue.  For it is better for you to be found small but included in the flock of Christ than to have a preeminent reputation and yet be excluded from this hope” (1 Cl 57.1-2).

Notice that last line, which is huge.  It is a commentary on Hebrews 13.17 – to not have leaders watching over one’s soul is not a good thing; there is not much hope outside of the elder-led flock.  One more:

“Let the flock of Christ be at peace with its duly appointed presbyters (presbuteron). ….These are things that those who live as citizens of the commonwealth of God – something not to be regretted – have done and will continue to do” (I Cl 54.2, 4).

Later, Cyprian would say similar things, just to name one other father who knew what church order and institution meant.  I find it quite odd that these “leave-church-as-institution” people always talk about kingdom, but fail to realize that kingdom is polis langauge, and where there is a King, there is order, leadership, and submission.  This is God’s order, not something foisted onto the church by some unChristian brutes a long time ago.

NOTE: For similar authority language as 1 Clement above, see Ignatius’ Epistle to the Ephesians, 2.2, 4.1, 5.3; Ignatius’ Epistle to the Magnesians ch. 2, 13.2; Ignatius’ Epistle to the Trallians ch. 2; and his Epistle to Polycarp 6.1.  Finally, check out Polycarp’s Epistle to the Philippians 5.3b.

(Above quotes taken from Michael Holmes’ fine editorial work in The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, Third Edition [Grand Rapid: Baker, 2007])

shane lems

sunnyside wa

I just finished reading a book that utilizes a “trendy” font, talks about Jesus, kingdom, The Shack, missions, Starbucks, and even Lunesta.  The authors are younger guys with goatees.  It is true, these guys should be Emergent, but they are not.  Instead, they got together to write a book telling why and how the institutional, organized church is a great thing, a blessing from God (blemishes and all).  If you’re paying any attention to the broader church scene in America, you know that many want religion and Jesus without the church.  Here are a few responses to that attitude from Why We Love the Church.

“I’m… glad that my church is ‘organized.’  I’m glad I know where to put my toddler on Sunday morning.  I’m glad somebody was institutional enough to think through topics for a Sunday school class or two.  I’m glad my pastor, rather than just freewheeling it, cares enough to study Scripture and a bookshelf full of dead authors to give me real spiritual food each Sunday.  I’m glad somebody leads a social outreach ministry to those less fortunate in our area.  I’m glad somebody…makes sure the kids are learning something biblical in their classes.  It is, at its most basic, organized religion.  And I love it” (p. 24).

“My observation is that as people grow tired of hearing about the atonement, salvation, the cross, and the afterlife, they grow tired of church.  Because the more that sin and redemption and heaven and hell recede into the background, the more the church becomes just one thing among several options for making a difference in the world…  There’s a danger that when people get disinterested in the gospel, they get disinterested in the church.  And once they leave the church, they’ve left the only institution whose mission aims for eternity and whose gospel is truly good news” (p. 51).

“The church-is-lame crowd hates Constantine and notions of Christendom, but they want the church to be a patron of the arts, and run after school programs, and bring the world together in peace and love.  They bemoan the overprogrammed church, but then think of a hundred complex, resource-hungry things the church should be doing.  They wish the church could be more diverse, but then leave to meet in a coffee shop with other well-educated thirtysomethings who are into film festivals, NPR, and carbon offsets.  They want more of a family spirit, but too much family and they’ll complain that the church is ‘inbred.’  They chide the church for not doing more to address social problems, but then complain when the church gets too political.  They want church unity and decry all our denominations, but fail to see the irony in the fact that they have left to do their own thing because they can’t find a single church that can satisfy them.  They want leaders with vision, but don’t want anyone to tell them what to do or how to do it” (p. 88).

As a pastor, I’ve heard the “church-is-lame” excuses before, and to be honest, I’ve thought of a few myself.  Why We Love the Church was helpful for me; even pastors need to be reminded about the necessity of the institutional church. Go get this book: it is easy to read, theologically sound, and very much worth giving to others for Christmas.  Thanks, guys, for not being Emergent.  I’ll forever look differently upon goatees!

shane lems

sunnyside wa

Just for fun, I thought I’d give my quite subjective opinion of the bests and worsts of book publishing that I’ve come across.  For reasons other than the content/subject, sometimes a book itself either annoys me like crazy or is a pleasure to read.  In other words, the following list doesn’t really have to do with the content of the book, but the quality of the publishing or writing.  By the way, it might be fun if you’re a blogger to take the list below and do your own thing with it – we’ll link it if you let us know.

Best overall layout: this goes to Luther’s Small Catechism With Explanation published by Concordia Publishing House (CPH; I generally like most CPH stuff).  The bold, color-coded font as well as the indentation and clear section divisions make this book a joy to read and easy to use. (A close second goes to the JPS OT commentaries.)

Worst overall layout:Here we have those old photo-lithiographed books that modern publishers simply “re-photo-lithiographed” - these are  immensely annoying to read, especially the smaller fonts.  A close second goes to Beale’s Erosion of Inerrancy book, which seemed like a bunch of articles cut and pasted into a haphazard book form making it very difficult to read/follow.  I might also mention that Wipf and Stock’s layouts, fonts, and odd book sizes never impress me - they seem a tad outdated or something, I can’t quite explain it.

Best Binding: I usually like WJK’s binding, along with Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft (LXX, BHS, GNT).  My Hebrew Bible has been through the ringer and is still going strong.  In fact, I think a friend of mine in seminary once left his Hebrew Bible on the roof of his car, only to have it crash to the ground as he sped away.  When he found it back, it was still good as new.  I might also mention IVP, Banner of Truth, and Reformation Heritage Books in this category, I usually don’t have problems with these bindings.  One more: my copy of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Doubleday) has solid binding.

Worst Binding: here we have a tie between Eerdman’s printing of Berkhof’s Systematic Theology and Baker’s volumes of Bavinck’s Reformed Dogmatics. The former is bound by Elmers glue, it seems.   The later – despite being quite recently published – might just be bound with the with the same cardboard your Cheerios box utilizes.   Second, the Zondervan Bible Backgrounds Commentary (Hardcover) on the NT.  I freak out every time I touch these things, because they give me a sharp “CRACK!” when I open them.

Most Typographical Errors: this one is easy.  Hands down it goes to A Faith That is Not Alone (Kerygma). I have never in my life read anything published with so many editing errors as this book.  One guy who wrote for this book, who claims to be Reformed, said he signs on to the “Three Standards of Unity.”  What are those?   Sometimes in this book, half of a word is italicized, the other half is not.   I can’t even think of a close second in this category.  Had I turned in sloppy work like this in seminary… well, its the stuff nightmares are made of.

Worst citations: V. Whaley in Called to Worship. In this book, he cited and used Wikipedia for some backup of his biblical/theological statements.  I could barely finish reading it after I saw that!  Yikes!  Thomas Nelson might want to write a policy or something.  A close second goes to all books that have endnotes instead of footnotes.  Third place here goes to books without a Scripture index.  Perhaps these last two examples have to do with the publishers trying to save money – no excuse, though, in my book (no pun intended).  We need to lobby publishers to include footnotes and Scripture indices (I’m primarily thinking of Baker,  WJK, and Banner of Truth).

Most Handsome Book Overall (including ease of reading/use): I’d say Waltke and O’Conner’s Introduction To Biblical Hebrew Syntax gets an award here.  The indices, footnotes, outlines, and organization are all pretty solid – bravo Eisenbrauns!.  Muller’s Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics also is right up there, as is BDAG (Greek English Lexicon of the New Testament).   For some reason, I am aesthetically pleased every time I grab and read Duke University Press’ Hauerwas Reader.  It is like a solid gold brick in my hands!

Least Handsome Book Overall (including difficulty of reading/use): Calvin’s Commentaries by Baker.  Ugly brown and gold, ugly font, and near-impossible indices make these books laborious to look at and read.  Further, I’m not a fan of the looks and layout of the Anchor Bible commentaries, nor do I think the NICOT/NICNT are that nice to use (though I realize these are older).  And what’s up with WJK’s deer-hunter orange Drama of Doctrine (by K. Vanhoozer), or [W]JK’s oddly colored Interpretation commentaries?  Is someone over there color blind?

Too Trendy: I think some of the Emergent/Missional sort of publishing is cheesy.  Green Press by Baker, Zondervan’s oddly sized trendy books – these things are annoying.  New publishing styles/fonts are sometimes fun, but they can be overdone.  Books that smell like soy are impossible to read!  Also, every Christian fiction book belongs here.  I’ll boycott the publisher who does a book series that is the Christian equivalent of Grey’s Anatomy.

Not Trendy Enough: P&R publishing can be mentioned here (apart from their “too trendy” foray into Christian fiction).  They’re not bad, but just so plain!  Same goes for Crossway and a number of others that I won’t list.

I’m sure you can add to these – feel free!  Again, it is just for fun, something different; I don’t mean to be too hard on the publishers!  I’m glad they publish and will keep purchasing their books (with the above Grey’s Anatomy exception).

shane lems

sunnyside wa

In The Structure of Biblical Authority,  Meredith Kline wrote, “The covenant is the Psalter’s sphere of existence” (p. 62).  What does that mean? Is this a case where the theology shark is at work? (The theology shark is when one principle or theme of theology swallows everything else – to the detriment of the whole system.)  I don’t think this is an overstatement by Kline, especially since he only spends two pages on the topic (Longman, along with others, also makes this observation, that the psalms have a covenantal aspect to them). Here are Kline’s own words.

“The psalms of praise, whether magnifying the majesty of Yahweh’s person or the wonder of his ways in creation or redemption, were a part of Israel’s tributary obligations; they were the spiritual sacrifices of the lips offered to the Great King. As vehicles of private and public devotion they were a continual resounding of Israel’s ‘Amen’ of covenant ratification.”

The psalms, Kline continues, were confessional responses of God’s people who have heard the awesome deeds of the King as the prologue of the covenant treaty mentioned. “The Psalter served broadly as a cultic instrument in the maintenance of a proper covenantal relationship with Yahweh.”

The Psalter is a jewel of many colors – this is one of the beautiful colors of the psalms, that it is a covenantal hymnbook, so to speak, of and to the great Suzerain and Redeemer, Yahweh.  In that broad sense, the psalms are indeed covenantal, though the term “covenant” (berit) is only found in a small handful of the psalms.

shane lems

sunnyside wa

I’ve posted a few times on the Psalter in the last week or so, noting how the psalms were written and slowly collected somewhere between the period 1400 and 400 BCE, give or take.  This might be sort of a new concept for many Christians, but rather than detract from our view of Scripture it adds to it, in my opinion.  Here’s one good point by Tremper Longman along these lines.

“The key is to see the Psalter as a living, open book during the whole Old Testament period.  The Psalter was in constant use individually and corporately from its very beginning.  In addition, new psalms were constantly added” (How to Read the Psalms, p. 43).

Though I think “constantly added” is an overstatement (150 psalms collected over 1000 years is not constant addition!), Longman’s point is well noted.  Bernard Anderson, in Out of the Depths (another great study of the psalms), said it this way.

“A closer look at the fivefold structure of the Hebrew Psalter reveals that this symmetrical organization was superimposed upon previously circulating collections of psalms, just as modern hymn books are based upon previous editions” (he cites and explains the “editorial notice” at the end of Psalm 72 here; it is found on page 11).

I’ll continue this thought later…

shane lems

That Americans will do almost anything to enjoy a happy life here and now is news to very few people.  Books, drugs, plastic surgery, therapy, amulets, meditation, exercise, stocks, bonds, clothes, phones, sermons, food, and everything else is consumed by Americans in search of a happy and almost stress free life.  We spend half of our yearly income in search of happiness.

The question is, can all this take sorrow away?  Will there be a drug of drugs to eradicate the blues of even the bluest?  Can a pill and a few life changes, along with some cash, mend a broken heart once for all?  Can Western culture win the war on melancholy?

Eric Wilson has written a book on just this topic (called Against Happiness: In Praise of Melancholy).  And this war on melancholy doesn’t excite him.

“I for one am afraid that our American culture’s overemphasis on happiness at the expense of sadness might be dangerous, a wanton forgetting of an essential part of a full life.  I further am wary in the face of this possibility: to desire only happiness in a world undoubtedly tragic is to become inauthentic, to settle for unrealistic abstractions that ignore concrete situations” (p. 6).

Later, he writes,

“My sense is that most of us have been duped by the American craze for happiness.  We might think that we’re leading a truly honest existence, one attuned to vivid realities and blooded hearts, when we’re really just behaving as predictably and artificially as robots, falling easily into the worn ‘happy’ behaviors, into the conventions of contentment, into obvious grins” (p. 9).”

Wilson is dead on here.  Throwing medicine or money or moralism at deep sorrow and sadness is like trying to stop a thunderstorm, saying everything is peachy because you’ve closed your eyes and plugged your ears.  Christians have to (ironically!) fight against this war on melancholy with every fiber of our broken-but-being-made-new hearts.  One basic truth of Christianity that the wind of consumerism tries to blow away is this: in this world you will have sorrow (Jn 16.20).  Sorrow and this pilgrim life go hand in hand, like it or not.  We have got to resist being duped by the “American craze for happiness.”

One other basic truth of Christianity is this: your sorrow will turn to joy (Jn 16.20).  But that joy we only know glimmers of now.  Fullness of joy is reserved for the life to come.  This is what it means to be conformed to Christ: from suffering to joy, from cross to crown, from mourning to dancing.

[Footnote: the aforementioned book is not written from a Christian perspective, in case you were wondering.  However, I strongly recommend it, and I'll post more on it later.]

shane lems

sunnyside wa

A few days back, I posted on the topic of whether the Psalm titles are original.  The conclusion there was that they are not necessarily original to the particular psalm but were most likely added by a scribe at a latter date.  Now, we turn to a few reasons why Futato says they are canonical (i.e. part of the divine scriptures).

1) The NT treats the titles as scripture and cites them as such (Mk 12.35-37; Acts 2.29-35; 13.35-37).

2) The title of Psalm 18 is found in 2 Samuel 22.1.  We should take both together as canonical.

3) The title phrase “to/for the director of music” is found in Habakkuk 3.19; both Hab. 3.19 and this titular phrase (“to/for the director of music”) should be considered canonical.

Again, this is a widely discussed and debated issue.  Some scholars of differing schools/traditions agree that the titles might even be a sort of footnote to the previous psalm.  One thing is clear: the discussion of the titles in the Psalter is no simple issue!  Futato’s conclusions about his thesis (that the titles are not original but are canonical) are also helpful: 

“Therefore, we seem to be left with a certain ambivalence toward the historical information of the titles: it is canonical but cannot play much of a role in the interpretive process other than illustrating in a general way the kind of situation in which a given psalm arose.”

In other words, the psalms are in a way time-bound yet in another way are timeless.  Though I’ll save the details for a later post, we might start to think of the psalms as part of the wisdom genre.  The proverbs, for example, grew out of a particular situation but the ambiguity of that situation allows them to “make wise” the believer from any age, location, and circumstance of life.  Most likely, the wise authors anticipated this.  Perhaps we can say the same of the Psalter.

The above quotes can be found in chapter three of Futato’s introduction to the Psalter.

shane lems

sunnyside wa