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Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Get Off Those Spritual Treadmills!

Are You Running the Race,
Looking to Jesus?
or
Running on a Treadmill?
  

This is a previously published Blog from its early days. It is republished now because (1) as I have said before, the Blog has gained some wider interest since its early days, and (2) I believe the topic important for Christians who are seeking to live the Christian life.It is common for Calvinists to criticize Roman Catholics and Arminians and now Federal Vision adherents for taking away from believers the assurance of salvation and the confident Christian living that flows from assurance and for, in effect, putting them on the spiritual treadmill of seeking to maintain themselves in a state of grace. However, many Calvinists seem oblivious to the treadmills that are associated with some incarnations of Calvinism. Calvinists can set people on treadmill, not of trying to maintain themselves in a state of grace, but a treadmill of quest to ascertain if they have yet entered a state of grace. "Experimental Calvinism" is particularly likely to put believers on treadmills. In addition the sort of Christian piety promoted by groups such as the Navigators also put their members on treadmill that seeks to maintain the Christian life by the use of spiritual practices.

What is below engages three treadmills: (1) state of grace, (2) experience, and (3) disciplines.

Treadmills are machines you walk on without ever getting anywhere. It doesn’t matter how long or how far you walk, you still get nowhere. You never reach a destination. There are spiritual treadmills that Christians can get on that have negative impacts on both Christian comfort and Christian living.

One treadmill is the state of grace treadmill. Christians who get on this treadmill are those who believe their salvation depends upon whether or not they are in a state of grace when they die. They may or may not be in a state of grace because one can move in and out of grace. Of course, this treadmill is one that serious Roman Catholics walk on. If you are going to heaven you must die without mortal sin on your soul. 

Mortal sin destroys charity in the heart of man by a grave violation of God’s law; it turns man away from God, who is his ultimate end and his beatitude, by preferring an inferior good to him. Venial sin is a sin of less serious matter that weakens charity and impedes the exercise of virtue… The Tradition of the Church affirms that mortal sin destroys sanctifying grace of the soul and cuts the sinner off from the body of Christ. Scripture again affirms Tradition when Jesus compares the Body of Christ, the church, to a vine.
The way to get into, remain in, and, if need be, return to a state of grace is by use of the seven sacraments. Sanctifying grace is received at baptism, and actual grace is received by use of the sacraments.

Although sanctifying grace instills us with life, there are moments in our lives in which we are especially moved by God’s love. These graces help us to sustain our relationship with Christ and are called actual graces, because they reflect the intervention of God in our lives. Actual grace is what moves a person’s heart to conversion and penitence and sustains the soul in the process of justification and sanctification.The seven sacraments of the Church are also a work of actual grace to nourish the Body of Christ and its members. The Eucharist, as the central sacrament, provides the body, blood, soul and divinity of Christ as the heavenly food for the soul.
The sacraments work automatically, but they do not work permanently and irrevocably. One can receive salvation through baptism, or move back into salvation by confession and absolution, but that same person may die not possessing salvation. Even if you die with only venial sins, you will almost certainly have to spend time in purgatory to cleanse your soul of them.

It may be my lack of theological understanding, but I am unable to see a great difference between the Roman Catholic view of being in a state of grace and that of the Federal Vision. As I understand it, in the theology of the Federal Vision, union with Christ is accomplished by and in baptism. Union with Christ means the possession of all the benefits of Christ's saving work. Yet one can move from the state of grace effect through baptism to a state of non-grace if one does not continue in the life of covenant faithfulness. What is bestowed can be lost by apostasy. What we have is an invariably but not permanently effective baptism. 


Not only Roman Catholics, and possibly Federal Visionists, but all Arminians believe that a person can be in a state of grace, yet not remain in the state of grace and can be lost. The Articles of Religion written by John Wesley, while holding out hope of restoration for those who have fallen from grace, nevertheless, teach that grace received can become grace lost.
John Wesley, in his article, “What is an Arminian?” contrasts Calvinism and Arminianism, his position, thus:

The Calvinists hold… that a true believer in Christ cannot possibly fall from grace. The Arminians hold, that a true believer may "make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience;" that he may fall, not only foully, but finally, so as to perish for ever.
The Articles of Religion, written by Wesley, while holding out great hope that those who have fallen from grace may be renewed in grace, nevertheless affirm that salvation can be lost:

Not every sin willingly committed after justification is the sin against the Holy Ghost, and unpardonable. Wherefore, the grant of repentance is not to be denied to such as fall into sin after justification. After we have received the Holy Ghost, we may depart from grace given, and fall into sin, and, by the grace of God, rise again and amend our lives. And therefore they are to be condemned who say they can no more sin as long as they live here; or deny the place of forgiveness to such as truly repent.
Those who believe that one can move from a state of grace to a state of being fallen from grace, are on a spiritual treadmill, because they cannot be certain that they will die in a state of grace. If you do not die in a state of grace, though you may have once been saved, you will be lost.

A second treadmill is the experience treadmill. I want to be clear about this: those whose teaching results in folks walking on this treadmill do not believe that a person is saved by experience (Christ alone saves), but that an experience is necessary to receive salvation.


It can be illustrated by the central question asked about salvation. Rather than ask, “Have you come to faith in Christ?” or, “Are you trusting in Christ?” this teaching asks, “Have you been converted” or, “Are you born again?” (“Conversion” and “regeneration” - being “born again” - are perfectly good Christian words when used appropriately. Conversion is turning to Christ in faith. Regeneration, or the new birth, is the secret work of the Holy Spirit working through the means of grace to grant the gift of faith.) 

The shift can be subtle, but it is a shift from the question of whether or not one is saved by grace through faith to the question of whether one has had an experience that produces faith. This teaching can also be illustrated by sermon titles chosen by some of its teachers: “True Conversion: Rare and Difficult” or, “The Almost Christian Discovered.”


In this teaching, people are encouraged to look inward and to ask, “Am I really saved or have I just thought I was saved? Have I really been saved, or have I deceived myself?” Sometimes, the very lack of certainty is taken as evidence that one has not had the experience that leads to salvation. Then some teach that, even if lack of certainty (which this teaching actually encourages) is evidence that one has not really had the experience leading to salvation, yet it will be by a special experience that one comes to be assured of salvation.


This can lead, under Arminian preaching, to people walking the aisle or praying the prayer repeatedly, either because they are not sure, or because they want to make sure, that they “really mean it this time” and so are saved. Under a particular kind of Calvinistic preaching, people ask themselves, “I know I professed faith without any consciousness of confessing what I did not sincerely believe, but have I really believed? Have I been truly born again? Am I really a Christian?”


This treadmill can be particularly damaging to covenant children and young people. What do we expect to happen with those born within the covenant? We expect that, as they hear of Christ, they will believe in Christ, as they learn of Christ, they will trust in Christ. We expect this because we believe that as we, who are parents, use “all the means of God’s appointment”, God’s Holy Spirit will make these effective to the salvation of our children. We do not expect them to have a distinct or memorable experience. Indeed we believe that the normal pattern will be that they will, so far as they can remember, always have believed in Christ, or not be able to remember a time when they did not believe in Christ. 

Yet many by this teaching are unduly disturbed by being urged to “make sure” that they have experienced true conversion. Practically there is no difference between being born in a Christian home and a non-Christian home, being baptized into the church and not baptized, except exposure to some “external privileges.” 
Now, we understand and respect that Five Points Baptists should so believe and teach, but we cannot understand why Presbyterians should.

But the damage is not limited to children and young people. Anyone without a distinct movement from unbelief to faith can be disturbed. And even those who point to a memorable event, may be disturbed if they are made to feel uncertain that what happened was the “real thing.” It is possible that they are deceived by the devil or self-deceived, so that they mistakenly believe that they are saved, when they in fact are not.

Those who emphasize experience can be on a treadmill because they are never quite sure if they really are saved. Probably so, perhaps, but not surely so.


The third spiritual treadmill is the spiritual disciplines treadmill. There are those who put a great emphasis on the spiritual disciplines, or devotional exercises, or “quiet times.” They involve Bible reading, memorization, and study and prayer. (Note that, while believers have always been able to pray in private, it was not till well after the invention of the printing press that any believer could read the Bible in private.) Christians are taught to incorporate these things into a routine that is departed from on only in the case of extraordinary circumstances. Interestingly sometimes these private practices are given more importance than church attendance and public worship.


It is emphasized that these practices are absolutely essential to Christian health and living. Sometimes phrases such as “No Bible no breakfast” or, “Miss your devotions one day and God knows it; miss your devotions two days and you know it; miss your devotions for three days and everybody knows it” or, “Seven days without Scripture makes one weak” are used to reinforce the importance of making these things habits.


Now, do not misunderstand. The private use of the Bible and private prayer are very good things. Most of us could do with more. And Christian disciplines, routines, habits, and regular practices are good things. Again, most of us could do with more not less of them.
But, there is a danger here, too. 


Think about the way some people handle diet and exercise. Depending on the kind of diet they follow, they may feel they have put a nail in their coffin if they eat something with too much fat or too many carbohydrates. If they do not go to the gym, or do their jogging or walking, or spend time on their treadmill, they feel awful for missing. This approach can make it virtually impossible to enjoy the life and health you have, if you have not followed the regimen. And, this approach can work against health, in that the sense of failure can lead one to be less careful of good health practices. If you failed to follow the regimen yesterday, you are so discouraged that you are less likely today or tomorrow to do the things that can aid good health.

It is this way with the wrong kind of emphasis on the spiritual disciplines. Christian life is just that - it is life, a living relationship with God through Christ. The disciplines can aid that living faith, but they are not the same as that living faith. This approach can work against real Christian health. If you miss whatever daily routine you have committed yourself, the sense of guilt and failure can hurt spiritual health. You can develop a “checklist approach” to the Christian life. If you can put a check by the things on your list, then you can feel good about your spiritual health; if you have not checked off at least the most important of them, you are cannot feel so good about your spiritual health. 

All this can mean a lack of enjoyment of the life with God you have by faith, not by activities or practices. What I mean by “living by faith” is that you live your life in the consciousness of God’s presence and favor, knowing you are forgiven, justified, and reconciled on the basis of the work of Christ alone, that you have constant access to your heavenly Father through your High Priest, that you can count on Jesus to understand and grant you help in all the circumstances of life, and that God is with you and will never leave or forsake you.


This kind of emphasis on the spiritual disciplines is a treadmill when believers pay more attention to the routines of certain activities and practices than the realities of living faith.

These three “spiritual treadmills” all have elements of truth. There is a difference between being in a state of grace and not. There is a difference between true and false faith. There is a need for faithful use of the means of grace, and that includes the private and personal ones. But these realities should not lead to Treadmill Christianity.

Are you in a state of grace? Yes, if your faith is in Christ as he is offered in the Gospel. Is your faith real? Yes, if you sincerely are resting on Christ alone for salvation. Do the spiritual disciplines have a place? Yes, they aid the Christian life, but they are not the Christian life.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Houston, I've Got a Problem


"One of these days, Alice..."



Sursum Corda 
a Little Closer to Heaven?


Aldrin.jpg
Buzz Aldrin,
Lunar Pilot and Celebrant
Mesmerized we crowded around the colorless TV in the tiny library of our extra-fundy Christian school to watch the coverage of John Glenn's orbit around the earth. Before Glenn there was Alan Shepard's brief rocket ride, the first small step of the manned-space program.  On July 20, 1969, though it proved unnecessary, the evening church service was changed so no one would miss the lunar landing. We, married  a month before, sat in our apartment before our very little black and white waiting to see a momentous event, a man walking on the moon. (It was a big summer - moon walk, Woodstock, the wedding of the decade.) Astronauts have, to use the title of Tom Wolf's book, "the right stuff." They are heroes to my generation.

Last week my friend Marvin Olasky called our attention to a part of that lunar event of which he (nor I) had not previously been aware. Buzz Aldrin, who followed Neil Armstrong onto the  moon's surface, celebrated Holy Communion by himself in the lunar module. Armstrong did not want to participate. NASA would not allow Aldrin to observe the sacrament with the nation watching for fear of more trouble from Madeline Murray O'Hare . But, according to Marvin and posts I've seen on Facebook, it is a neat story and commendable thing that Aldrin celebrated the Sacrament on the moon. As Aldrin said, the first food and drink consumed on the moon were the bread and wine of the Holy Supper.

"Just you and me, Lord"
I have seen no one ask if any believers would have taken offense had the celebration been broadcast. I know that I would not have then. But I would now. Why? Because. although, Aldrin, an member of the Webster Presbyterian Church near Houston, got permission from a Presbyterian denomination (PCUS at that time I think), the observance was contrary to the historic Reformed understanding of what is necessary for the proper observance of the Lord's Supper. 

There are three defects of that Moon Communion:

(1) The Reformed view is that only those who are ordained to the ministry of the Word and Sacraments may administer the Sacrament. 

The Word is not to be preached nor the Sacraments celebrated by anyone except a minister who has been duly called and ordained to the office by the church. Only the minister, and no other church member or officer, may consecrate the elements and perform the sacramental actions. 

Question 368 of Calvin's Genevan Catechism,  a question having go do with the administration of Communion, assumes it:
But ought pastors, to whom the dispensing of it has been committed, to admit all indiscriminately without selection?
The Second Helvetic Confession teaches it as belonging to the peculiar ministry of pastors:
Moreover, to the end that he might expound the ministry more fully, the apostle adds that ministers of the Church are administrators and stewards of the mysteries of God. Now in may passages, especially in Eph., ch. 3, Paul called the mysteries of God the Gospel of Christ. And the sacraments of Christ are also called mysteries by the ancient writers. Therefore for this purpose are the ministers of the Church called--namely, to preach the Gospel of Christ to the faithful, and to administer the sacraments. 
And the same consecration or blessing still remains among all those who celebrate no other but that very Supper which the Lord instituted, and at which they repeat the words of the Lord's Supper, and in all things look to the one Christ by a true faith, from whose hands they receive, as it were, what they receive through the ministry of the ministers of the Church. 
The Scot's Confession requires it: 
Two things are necessary for the right administration of the sacraments. The first is that they should be ministered by lawful ministers, and we declare that these are men appointed to preach the Word, unto whom God has given the power to preach the gospel, and who are lawfully called by some Kirk. The second is that they should be ministered in the elements and manner which God has appointed. Otherwise they cease to be the sacraments of Christ Jesus.

So, too, the Westminster Confession:
The Lord Jesus has, in this ordinance, appointed His ministers to declare His word of institution to the people, to pray, and bless the elements of bread and wine, and thereby to set them apart from a common to an holy use; and to take and break the bread, to take the cup, and (they communicating also themselves) to give both to the communicants...
 Likewise the Westminster Larger Catechism:
Christ hath appointed the ministers of his Word, in the administration of this sacrament of the Lord’s supper, to set apart the bread and wine from common use, by the word of institution, thanksgiving, and prayer; to take and break the bread, and to give both the bread and the wine to the communicants... Buzz Aldrin was an elder of the Webster Presbyterian Church, but he was not set apart by the church to the ministry of the Word and Sacraments. The General Assembly of his denomination had no warrant itself to authorize Aldrin's presiding at his own personal Communion service.
2) The Reformed view is that Communion is to be celebrated in the gathered congregation.

That the Lord's Supper should be celebrated in community is to be expected inasmuch as one of its purposes is to testify to and strengthen not only our communion with Christ in heaven but our communion with his his body on earth, the church, the people of God. It reminds of and call us to unity as the people of God for we who are one partake of one loaf and one cup.

The Belgic Confession teaches that the sacrament is a communal meal:
Finally, with humility and reverence we receive the holy sacrament in the gathering of God's people, as we engage together, with thanksgiving, in a holy remembrance of the death of Christ our Savior, and as we thus confess our faith and Christian religion.
 The Westminster Confession is explicit and clear;
The Lord Jesus has, in this ordinance, appointed His ministers... to take and break the bread, to take the cup, and (they communicating also themselves) to give both to the communicants; but to none who are not then present in the congregation.
Though I think the Reformed tradition is against it, I am not here addressing the possibility of Communion being observed with those who are permanently or for extended periods of time are physically unable to gather with the congregation, but it is clear that there was no necessity for Buzz Aldrin to receive (in this case give to himself) the Sacrament.

3) The Reformed view is that the Sacraments must never be disconnected from the ministry of the Word.

The Word and Sacraments are conjoined. In the Reformed tradition the celebration of the Supper is never separated from the Word read and preached. The Word is not merely the reading of the Words of Institution, the consecration of the elements, and the invitation to the Table. The Word is read and preached by the minister. The Sacrament comes along after the Word as its sign and seal. The Lord's Supper pictures, confirms, and conveys with the Word the promise of grace. The Sacrament is never celebrated in isolation from the Word. This is not to say how long the reading and preaching of the Word must be. The reading may be short and the sermon brief, but both are necessary to the right observance of the Sacrament.

The Sacraments do not stand alone from the Word but are added to the Word for confirmation, as the Belgic Confession says:
We believe that our good God, mindful of our crudeness and weakness, has ordained sacraments for us to seal his promises in us, to pledge his good will and grace toward us, and also to nourish and sustain our faith. He has added these to the Word of the gospel to represent better to our external senses both what he enables us to understand by his Word and what he does inwardly in our hearts, confirming in us the salvation he imparts to us. 
 So, too the Second Helvetic Confession:
From the beginning, God added to the preaching of his Word in his Church sacraments or sacramental signs. For thus does all Holy Scripture clearly testify. The Sacraments are not celebrated in a vacuum. They are always joined to the Word and its ministry. Buzz Aldrin did not preach himself a sermon before he celebrated with himself the Lord's Supper.

I like Buzz Aldrin. He has "the right stuff." He's a graduate of West Point who served as a jet fighter pilot in Korea. He went on to earn a PhD from MIT. He piloted the lunar module and walked on the moon. He has battled personal demons of depression and alcohol misuse. He is a hero worthy of admiration.

But, he had no business celebrating Communion on the moon. The Supper is too holy important as an ordinance of Christ, a means of grace, and communal experience to be celebrated alone in a space ship on the moon. I suppose, however, if we think of heaven spatially, if he used the traditional Reformed Sursum Corda ("We lift up our hearts to the Lord"), he had a shorter distance to lift his.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

George Zimmerman and Peter Leithart

Not Right But Justice


George Zimmerman
Peter Leithart


"Just do the right thing." If you have the right frame of reference to define the right, that's a pretty good simple guide for an individual as he lives his life. In every situation, you ask yourself, "What's the right thing to do?" (That's a different question from "What would Jesus do?" which is frequently both unknowable and irrelevant.) When you know what the right thing is, do it. Sometimes it's a clear as the moral law. Should you honor your parents? Yes. Of course. Sometimes it's less clear. Shall I empty the dishwasher before the little lady gets up? Is that optional, or am I required then to do as I would have done for me? Other times there is no right to be determined. Chicken or shrimp? Doesn't matter unless you're allergic to shell fish. 

But, when we move from our own personal lives to communal life, to ask the state or the church to do the right thing is often both unwise and unrealistic. It's always a happy occurrence when what is right and what is just are in perfect harmony. But in  community we must content ourselves with justice, even if what is just is not right. Expecting or demanding that the right thing be done can be asking for the impossible. Doing the right should not be had at the expense of justice. It is justice that protects us all, especially if we the minority or the losers, from getting run over by moral zealots.

Justice has to do with law and procedure. Right has to do with principles and morals. 

Take the recent acquittal of George Zimmerman. Many believe the jury should have done the "right thing" and convicted Zimmerman. Why? They believe that racial prejudice led to the killing, that Trayvon Martin died at Zimmerman's hands because Martin was black, and that the jury should have done the right thing by convicting Zimmerman and sending him to prison. Otherwise he got away with the murder of an innocent black teenager. But the jury, after weighing the facts and the law and following the instructions they were given about how to deliberate, eventually found Zimmerman not guilty of either second degree murder or manslaughter.

There is the outcry from many hearts, "It's just not right." The outcry of hearts has become public outcry with demonstrations in many cities. The question for those who are protesting the verdict is not whether the facts were determined, or was the law applied, or the procedures followed, but, "Did Zimmerman get away with killing Trayvon?" For them the answer beyond doubt, "Yes." A black  man was killed. A white Hispanic got away with it. That's not right but wrong.

I have but am not here giving an opinion as to whether it was morally right for Zimmerman to use the deadly force (a pistol) available to him in that situation. But I am stating my opinion that, while moral wrong may or may not have occurred, the decision of the jury was just, and that's all that can be asked of a jury of citizens. The case was argued by competent lawyers before a judge who was responsible to follow and to require the attorneys to follow the law and procedures. The jury's responsibility was to hear the evidence, to follow the procedural instructions given for their deliberations, to determine the facts, to apply the law to the facts, and to decide guilt or innocence.

That's about all you can hope for in this world - justice, and imperfect justice at that. Justice itself is hard enough to come by. We have no right to ignore the law and the procedures in order to do the right thing.  Nor do we have the right to ask others to ignore the law and procedures in order to do what we believe is the right thing. 

This applies not only to criminal cases but to all sorts of legal situations. When we complain about Supreme Court decisions, is it because they did not do the right thing, which is so obvious to us, or because they did not do the just thing? Are evangelicals, who generally favor something along the lines of strict construction and originalism in the interpretation of the the Constitution and application of laws by the Court, willing to live with the just but not necessarily right decisions of the Court? Should Christians who are denied a permit to gather on a beach for worship practice civil disobedience because worshiping God in public places is, as they see it, a God given right and hence the right thing to do, or should they accept the decisions of the authorities? 

Or, take an ecclesiastical case, the case of Peter Leithart that was before the Standing Judicial Commission and then the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in America. I believe the Federal Vision, whatever its merits or demerits in terms of faith and practice, is contrary to the Standards and the ordination vows of the PCA.  But, without expressing an opinion as to whether justice in this case was done, it is justice, not right, that primarily concerns me.

Consideration of the complaint against the the presbytery, the overtures before the Assembly, the minority report from the committee reviewing presbytery records, the work of the Constitutional Business Committee, and the rulings of the chair, came down for many to one or both of two questions: (1)"Am I for or against the Federal Vision?" (2) "Am I for or against toleration of the Federal Vision?" In other words, right not justice.

Should the SJC should have decided on the complaint before it based on what each member thought about the Federal Vision? Should the General Assembly  have decided whether to consider the overtures seeking further review of the case based on what each commissioner thought about the Federal Vision? Should commissioners have voted to sustain or overturn the rulings of the chair based on what each thought of the Federal Vision? Should some of those who celebrated the outcome have done so because, regardless of how the outcome was attained, as they see it was the right thing to do? Should some of those who bemoaned that the case would receive no further review have done so because, as they see it, convicting Leithart and condemning the Federal Vision are the right outcomes regardless of how they are achieved?

Do you want what is right or what is just?  Should members of the presbytery have voted to convict a person based on what they believe about the Federal Vision or based on the evidence presented and the arguments made? Should members of a judicial commission or of a general assembly do what each individual judges to be right (or true) regardless of the relevant constitutional and procedural issues? Or, should we be prepared to put up with an outcome that is contrary to what we believe to be right (or true) if that is where the provisions of constitution and procedure lead? Do you seek justice in the form of adherence to constitutional process and judicial procedures and let the chips fall wherever they may, or does your quest for what is right give you the authority to obtain it no matter how? This is another way of asking, "Does the end justify the means?" 

I have said that I think the Federal Vision is out of accord with our system of doctrine. I am not saying whether or not I would have voted for the the conviction of Leithart had I been a member of the court that tried him. I am not here expressing an opinion about whether the Book of Church Order, the standing rules of the SJC, or the Rules of Assembly Operation were correctly applied in considering the complaint and the overtures. I am not expressing an opinion on the merits of any of the issues or their dispositions. I have read good arguments for both sides of the questions. I am saying only that this case, and all cases, should turn on the matter of justice rather than right.

I think it is hard to get justice in the PCA, partly because our rules and procedures are so complicated, partly because we are so prone to political maneuvering, and partly because some are determined do the right thing, the process be damned. I have seen a Presbytery run roughshod over justice in order to what its majority was certain was the right thing to do. But justice is all we can ask no matter our certainty of what is right. To ask for the right thing to be done, rather than for laws and rules to be followed, puts us all in jeopardy, especially if we hold a minority position in the church or if our cause or we are unpopular. Even in the church, justice is hard to come by, but justice is all we can demand. 

You are asking too much if you expect what is just and what is right to match up exactly in this present age. Right and justice are not going to come into perfect harmony until heaven and earth are one and that is not going to happen till the Judge of all men appears. Till then let us focus on trying to get and to give justice. 

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Revivals Are the Problem, Not the Solution




Not Your Reformers' Evangelicals
Jonathan Edwards

What appears below is a review that was originally published in Reformation21

A Review of The Rise Evangelicalism:
The Age of Edwards, Whitfield, and the Wesleys 

by Mark Noll


John Wesley




Charles Wesley

George Whitefield


One of the binding chapters of the Directory for Worship for my denomination instructs the minister presiding at the Lord’s Table to “invite all those who profess the true religion, and are communicants in good standing in any evangelical church.”

The question that faces the conscientious minister and Session is, “What is an evangelical church?” The term evangelical has had at least three incarnations.

 (1) Its original meaning is rooted in the sixteenth century and is “a virtual synonym for Protestant” (Noll, p. 17). In this case evangelicalism defines Protestantism in contrast to Roman Catholicism by its asserting justification by faith alone, the sufficiency of Christ alone for salvation, and the Bible alone as the final authority, by insisting on the finality sacrifice of the cross (rather than the repeated sacrifice of the mass), and by teaching the priesthood of all believers (Noll, pp. 16, 17).

(2) It’s most recent (20th century) use is as a description of a movement that rejected the growing liberalism of the mainline denominations but also the hard edges and combativeness of fundamentalism. These “softer, gentler” conservatives chose “evangelical” as their own self-description to distinguish themselves from fundamentalists. Led by men such as Billy Graham, Harold John Ockenga, and Carl F. H. Henry, this neo-evangelical movement was committed to both the evangel and evangelism. (One historian has said one may judge what he thinks of modern evangelicalism by answering the question, “What do you think of Billy Graham?”) Many have criticized this mid-twentieth century incarnation (e.g. Noll’s The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind and David Wells’ No Place for Truth).  But no one has gone further than D.G. Hart who argues in Deconstructing Evangelicalism the provocative proposition that this evangelicalism “does not exist” (p.16) but “is a construct developed over the last half of the twentieth century” (p.19).


(3) However, in A History of Evangelicalism Noll is not talking about the sixteenth or twentieth centuries’ uses of the term. In this first of a projected five volumes that will trace the history of evangelicalism the historical starting point is the eighteenth-century (specifically 1740-95, p. 293); the geographical starting point is Great Britain; and the definitional starting point is that evangelicalism is  “a set of convictions, practices, habits, and oppositions that resemble what Europeans describe as ‘pietism’” (p. 17). What Noll sets out to do is to provide a history of “an ever-expanding, ever-diversifying, family tree with roots in the eighteenth century revivals” (p.19).

While Noll can be critical of this evangelicalism, he writes as a self-identified evangelical. He acknowledges that autobiographical accounts and interpretations of spiritual experience can be deceptive. Nevertheless: “An evangelical historian of evangelical history may be pardoned for his own conclusion that in many particulars they sound like the truth” (p. 290).

The core ingredients of this movement are (Noll quoting Bebbington with approval):

1. conversion or ‘the belief that lives need to be changed’;

2. the Bible, or ‘belief that all spiritual truth is found in its pages’; 
3. activism, or the dedication of all believers, including lay- people, to lives of service for God, especially as mani- fested in evangelism…and mission…; and 
4. crucicentrism, or the conviction that the death of Christ was central in providing atonement for sin…

Of course, the evangelicalism, Noll sets out to chronicle did not arise in a vacuum. Its roots are in the sixteenth Reformation and especially seventeenth century Puritanism, but Noll sees something different in the eighteenth century and something more than the organic growth that one might expect from the Reformation. The difference and addition are attributed to the rise of the revivals which re-shaped the doctrine and, to a greater extent, the practice of a large segment of Protestantism, both Calvinian and Arminian, in Great Britain and America.

One must not forget that among these eighteenth century evangelicals there were significant differences, big enough to cause sharp debate and broken relationships among the primary figures. In “the age Edwards, Whitfield, and the Wesleys” two were Calvinists and two Arminian. But what stands out in Noll’s story is that these doctrinal debates on matters such as divine sovereignty in salvation and the limits of human sanctification took place in the context of a number of commonalities. Space allows the mention of only three.

Firstthe evangelical revivalists saw religion advancing primarily through extraordinary rather than ordinary works of God. Jonathan Edwards contended that “from the fall of man to this day wherein we live the Work of Redemption in its effect has been mainly carried on by remarkable outpourings of the Spirit of God” (Noll, p.138). According to Noll this assessment became “standard” for evangelicalism. In other words, the ordinary ministry of the church making use of the ordinary means of grace had proved not adequate to maintain the vitality of the Church or to achieve the salvation of large numbers of sinners. Calvinists might pray revivals down while Arminians worked them up, but both believed extraordinary works of the Spirit were God’s way of giving and restoring spiritual life to individuals and to the church.


Secondevangelicals were experiential. Their tendency was to look to a conversion experience as an indicator of the reality of a profession. The experience, often coming after a period of intense and prolonged struggle, could be described in different ways – a strange warming of the heart, a divine and supernatural light, a new sense of God’s sweetness and one’s delight in Him, an overwhelming conviction of the love of God for the particular sinner, the sense that one’s sins are finally and fully forgiven. What these descriptions point to is something very close to a conscious sense of one’s being regenerated or at least a consciousness of the first movements of the heart of the regenerated person. This was something more than professing a faith one believes, being a baptized and communing member, keeping the Sabbath, faithfully receiving the means of grace, living under the oversight of elders, and walking with the saints. One needs to know in his heart that he has had a distinct experience of “closing with Christ.” This emphasis on experience is vividly portrayed in the experiences of Charles Wesley (though by no means is it unique to him) in 1738: “I waked without Christ; yet desirous of finding him (May 13)…I labored, waited, and prayed to feel ‘who loved me, and gave himself for me.’ After this assurance that he would come and not tarry, I slept in peace (May 17)…I found myself at peace with God, and rejoicing in hope of loving Christ” (May 21) (p.95). The question was not, “Do you sincerely believe?” but “Have you really experienced?”  It was not, “Do you believe God loves you because He did not spare his Son for you?” but “Have you felt the love of God fill your heart?”

Thirdthe evangelical movement sat loose regarding visible church with its structures and authority regarding such matters as worship, doctrine, and government of members and ministers. Whitfield and the Wesleys tried to maintain good faith connections with the Anglican Church. But, the momentum of their movement made it impossible. One could not make too much of ordination, since it was obvious that God was raising up and owning the ministries of men (and some women) who lacked it. One could not make too much of the church placing one in ministry and determining its sphere since these men themselves believed they were responding to and carrying out calls that came directly from God without the church as intermediary. If one believes that the world is his parish, he feels authorized to minister when and where he will. Then, one cannot make too much of the church and its worship services of Word and sacrament when the real vitality is to be found in special preaching services, open air meetings, and small groups initiated and organized by the evangelists. These societies had to have leadership, structure, and organization; this was provided by the evangelists themselves, anticipating the development of voluntary societies and para-church organizations standing outside the church but in many ways functioning as though they were the church. As Noll comments on Whitfield: “Whitfield combined an extraordinary disregard for inherited church traditions with a breathtaking entrepreneurial spirit…The willingness to innovate…promoted among later American evangelicals a similar disregard for Christian tradition” (p. 107).

Noll helps us who, despite Hart’s misgivings, continue to call ourselves evangelicals. By taking us back to the beginnings of the second incarnation of the movement that has shaped us Noll enables us better to know who we are and how we got to be this way. No doubt some of us will read the account as the record of the powerful work of the Spirit for which we long in our day, while others of us will see the roots of much that gives us misgivings about the church and Christian experience today. In either case, this book is on the “must read” list for those who would understand the evangelicalism of which, for better or worse, we are the 21st century heirs.