Boring Sights Or Bored Sightseers?

Continuing our look at G.K. Chesterton's call for secular, world-affirming Christianity, I'd like to turn our attention to the believing response to what the Reformed call common grace. Chesterton writes, "The world will never starve for want of wonders, but only for want of wonder." He adds:

"What is now needed is the most intensive imagination.... It is not merely seeking new experiences, which rapidly become old experiences. It is really learning how to experience our experiences. It is learning how to enjoy our enjoyments."

In other words, there are no boring sights, only bored sightseers.

A line of Conor Oberst's comes to mind in the Bright Eyes song Road to Joy: "My mind races with all my longings, but can't keep up with what I've got." The point being made here is that we mustn't lose amid our eschatological, future-focused hopes the ever-present joy of the earthly, the simple, and the wonderfully mundane.

"Men rush towards complexity," Chesterton says, "but they yearn towards simplicity. They try to be kings, but they dream of being shepherds."

"The point of the story of Satan is not that he revolted against being in hell, but that he revolted against being in heaven. The point about Adam is not that he was discontentedwith the conditions of earth, but that he was discontented with the conditions of the earthly paradise."

A sense of wonder and enjoyment of the providential blessings of earth is essential to true humility, and is also a direct by-product of a robust, two kingdoms-driven love for all things ordinary. Sometimes we become so obsessed with the next big thing that we barely notice how good the beer tastes that we're drinking while we dream.

Children, Chesterton points out, are constantly asking grown-ups (often to their frustration) to "Do it again!" Well, he concludes,

"... perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening, 'Do it again' to the moon."

World without end. Amen.

Puritans, Pagans, and the Proper Place for Pleasure

It has been observed that there are three kinds of people in this world: those who can count, and those who can't.

G.K. Chesterton has a different take on how to classify people, arguing that there are two groups into which a large majority of mankind can be placed: puritans and pagans. The former tends to make innocent things seem guilty, while the latter tries to make guilty things seem innocent. Both are obsessed with the trivial, with puritanism displaying indignance, and paganism devotion, toward things that don't really matter. The problem with both, Chesterton argues, is that they lack the common sense needed to put pleasure in its proper place.

Chesterton drew an interesting parallel between the puritan and the gnostic. Both, he said, attempted to portray the physical world as evil. "Idolatry," he writes,

"... is committed, not merely by setting up false gods, but also by setting up false devils.... Sin is in a man's soul, not in his tools or toys."

His point was that the puritan-slash-gnostic avoidance of legitimate pleasure is merely a reaction against the pagan pursuit of it. The incarnation of the Son of God, Chesterton insists, avoids the pitfalls of a fear of the spiritual on the one hand and the physical on the other.

What Chesterton seems to be arguing for (though he wouldn't use these terms) is a kind of secular, worldly Christianity that does not merely hold its nose and begrudgingly make peace with the culture, but embraces it, and its legitimate pleasures, with open arms, thanksgiving, and wonder. "Drink," he urges the believer, "because you are happy, but never because you are miserable."

If you'll forgive the "emergent" po-mo rhetoric, it seems to me that a robust, embodied, world-affirming Christianity does more justice to both the incarnation of Christ and the imago Dei in man than does the world-flightiness of much of the American church, whether evangelical or Reformed.

Score "one" for the Catholics.

Do Pagans Make the Best Vosians?

I just preached from Romans 8:18-25 where Paul gives, in the words of John Murray, his commentary on Genesis 3:17-18. The creation has fallen under curse and, therefore, groans under the weight of its bondage to decay, longing for the liberty that will accompany the glorification of the seed of the woman.

Yes, this relates to the way the believer should think about popular culture.

If the sub-human created order can recognize that something is amiss, then, to argue from the lesser to the greater, it would follow that the same insight can be found among non-believing humans as well. After all, if Ecclesiastes is an account of life "under the sun," then all who behold this age from that vantage point can reasonably conclude that it is but an unmerry merry-go-round, a wild goose chase without the wild goose.

What is pagan art if not a commentary on Ecclesiastes? What is Edvard Munch's The Scream, or The Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby," or the Wachowskis' Matrix trilogy if not a commentary on the inexplicable longing on the part of the human soul for something it has never seen but knows is out there?

Paul's point in the passage cited is that the cosmos groans, but "we who have the firstfruits of the Spirit" ache with an even greater frustration. Or at least we should. But if the unbelieving world displays, through its art and other media, an even greater frustration with earth than many believers exhibit, what does that say about where our true devotion lies?

This is why eschatology is so crucial. If Vos's dictum that "eschatology precedes soteriology" is true, then this means that this groaning for glory is part and parcel not of redemption, but of the created order itself. Simply put, you're supposed to feel like a fish out of water (or to correct the simile a bit, you're supposed to feel like a fish in water who longs to be free from it and to enter a new element that it knows, somehow and for some reason, is better).

Could it be that when Christians place their hopes in a transformed culture or a nation recaptured for Christ while their pagan neighbors listen to Bright Eyes while longing for escape, that the latter, rather than the former, are doing a better job at being divine image-bearers?

Thou Shalt Not Commit [Yawn...] Adultery

In his Letter to a Christian Nation, Sam Harris next turns his sights on the supposed indispensibility of the Decalogue for shaping a nation's moral character. He notes that the first four commandments "have nothing whatsoever to do with morality," but rather forbid all non-Judeo-Christian expressions of worship (on pain of death, he adds). Commandments 5-9 do address morality, Harris concedes, but he then expresses doubt about whether anyone obeys these commands because of the commands themselves, since:

"Admonishments of this kind are found in virtually every culture throughout recorded history.... It seems rather untimely, therefore, that the average American will receive necessary moral instruction by seeing these principles chiseled in marble whenever he enters a courthouse."

Harris then points out that if God exists and is to be taken seriously, then we must admit that we his creatures are not free to only obey the commands we like while disobeying the ones we dislike, nor can he simply relax the penalties he has imposed for our breaking his commands.

A few thoughts:

1. Sam Harris has a greater appreciation for common grace and natural law than many evangelical and Reformed believers today.

2. Though he wouldn't state it in this way, Harris rightly points out that the Decalogue, as such, is not "the moral law," but is a summary of that law covenantally formulated for those to whom it was originally given.

3. Unlike many non-believers, Harris actually sees the law (whose works are hardwired into him) not as suggestions to improve his earthly life while threatening no ill-effects if ignored, but as non-negotiable and inflexible expressions of who God is (if he existed).

4. But like all non-believers, Harris cannot fathom the transition from an obviously broken law to a program of redemption according to which the law's demands are honored, God's justice retained, and yet sinners are pardoned.

So I give Harris a point against the evangelicals for recognizing that a Judeo-Christian ethic is not indispensible for a just society, but the theonomic Reformed fare no better than their fundamentalist counterparts within evangelicalism on this score. Give Sam another point for recognizing the spiritual nature of the law and the serious consequences for breaking it, but as expected, he gets no points for recognizing a gospel he is blinded from seeing anyway.

Is God Libertarian, Green, or Somewhere In Between?

In my post entitled "Eschatology Precedes... Pretty Much Everything" I raised the question of whether political activism would be more prominent in a transformational church, or in a church holding to a two kingdoms paradigm.

My guess is that most readers assume that my own position is that transformationists are more likely to be politically involved than 2K folks. I'm not so sure, though....

When the universal Lordship of Chirst over "every square inch" of the universe is (mis)used as an excuse to collapse the various spheres of his sovereignty (effectively forcing upon the Church the responsibility to transform every facet of culture from the arts to plumbing), politics becomes a lot more daunting than it would be if those spheres were properly recognized.

Think about it: If we jettison common grace (and common sense along with it) and convince ourselves that the Bible is our only source of economic and politcal wisdom, then any view that we adopt about anything, if it is to be considered a valid option for Christians to hold, must necessarily be the divinely-sanctioned position. Every political debate, then, will be over whether the Bible's vision is Libertarian, Green, or somewhere in between.

But if we are content to let the Bible be determinative only for those issues that it actually addresses in detail (like, say, the gospel), then the believer will be free to allow his conscience, study, and overall experience of the world to play a role in the forming of his own political opinions and involvement (or lack thereof).

Ironically, then, it is when the church refuses the burden of fixing the world that her members can be freed to play a role in improving it. But beware, their cars may not all display identical bumper stickers in the months leading up to November '08.

But then, what does that have to do with Christian unity anyway?

On Neutrality and Commonness

I promise I'll move on eventually, but for now, I just can't let this issue go....

The section on Christendom in the Joint Statement on the Federal Vision states:

"We deny that neutrality is possible in any realm, and this includes the realm of 'secular' politics. We believe that the lordship of Jesus Christ has authoritative ramifications for every aspect of human existence, and that growth up into a godly maturity requires us to discover what those ramifications are in order to implement them."

I'm guessing by "neutrality" the authors have in mind some arrangement that seals off certain aspects of society from any and all divine jurisdiction or influence. To my knowledge, no one believes this (except maybe some eighteenth-century deists I've never met), so I'm not sure who, exactly, our brothers are arguing against here.

On the other hand, there are certain cultural questions that are "common" (though not "neutral"), and are to be tackled by those whose citizenship in the kingdom of man and whose creation in the image of God entitle them to join in the conversation. And yes, this includes Christians and non-Christians.

The problem with denying this -- if that is indeed what the Joint Statement is doing -- is that it places "every square inch" of the civil kingdom under the jurisdiction not just of God as Creator, but of Scripture, of the gospel, and of Christ as Redeemer.

The result of this, in addition to watering down Sola Scriptura to the point of meaninglesness, is a "baptized" version of politics with God's trademark stamped on the brochure. But what if this "Christian worldview" fails to capture the concerns of those sincere believers who don't think that GOP stands for "God's Own Politics"?

What of those believers who are against the present war? What of those who think the free market is a sham? And what of those who simply want to keep their religion free from the partisan bickering that characterizes the culture wars?

Apparently, they won't find refuge in Moscow, ID.

The Noetic Effects of Grace: Pagan Ethics

When we consider the Bible's assessment of pagan ethics, we are forced, once again, to pause before we press the antithesis between the believer and unbeliever too far.

Jesus says plainly that "sinners" love and do good to others (Matt. 5:46; Luke 6:32-33); he also commends the scribes' and Pharisees' teaching of Torah, encouraging their disciples to obey their instruction despite the fact that their lifestyles are not always in conformity with what they teach (Matt. 23:2-3); Paul actually holds up pagan morality as a means to shame the Corinthians for the perversity allowed in their midst (I Cor. 5:1-2a); In Athens, Paul employs arguments from the intellectual tradition of Greece to demonstrate the folly of pagan idolatry, first quoting Epimenides of Crete, and then the Stoic authors Cleanthes and Aratus of Soli (Acts 17:28, [Apparently, these pagan philosophers had a sufficiently robust understanding of the nature of God to expose the futility of idolatry]). And finally, Paul quotes the Cretan poet Epimenides in his letter to Titus (1:12-13a), adding that the pagan poet's estimation of the morality of his contemporaries is "true."

To what can we attribute all of these things but to God's common grace?

What all of this amounts to is the conclusion that in common, non-redemptive fields such as art, music, philosophy, agriculture, architecture, and even ethics, the believer and the unbeliever are more similar than different due to their both sharing the imago Dei.

Moreover, if we mistakenly insist that the these fields of interest are under the jurisdiction of redemption and are therefore to be considered "holy," then not only ought all Christians to withdraw completely from culture into ghettos or compounds where the world's wicked influences can't touch us, but we also run the risk of dilluting the Bible's authority when it comes to the things it actually does address, like, say, the cross and empty tomb.

The Noetic Effects of Grace: Pagan Wisdom

To further our discussion of education, I think it will be helpful to draw our attention to some of the Bible's own testimony concerning the "wisdom" of the pagans (some of what follows is gleaned from Dr. Johnson's article cited below).

As an adopted son of Pharoah's daughter, Moses served in the king's court and "was educated in all the wisdom of the Egyptians" (a fact that, along with Jewish tradition, Stephen highlights with apparent approval, Acts 7:22). At the time of the exile, Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah took the Chaldean names Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, and were given by Yahweh "learning and skill in all [Babylonian] literature and wisdom, and Daniel had understanding in all visions and dreams" (Dan. 1:17). Finally, the fact that Solomon's wisdom is said to have "surpassed the wisdom of all the people of the east and all the wisdom of Egypt" is intended to be impressive, which it obviously would not be if God's people alone were wise (I Kings 4:29-34).

To be sure, there is a stark antithesis in Scripture between the wisdom of this age and that of the age to come. But the sharpness of this antithesis seems most apparent when the spiritual concerns of God's second book, rather than the temporal concerns of his first one, are at issue.

Given these biblical accounts, together with the fact that all people still share the imago Dei even postlapsum, is it not at least conceivable that a child can learn his three Rs in a context that is consistent with the nature of those subjects, namely a common one? And further, is it not sufficient to insist upon a holy education when it comes to subjects that are themselves holy, namely, those contained in the Holy Bible?

(And please continue to be nice to "em," she is a member of my church. Failure to do so may result in my hunting you down and... well, you get the point).

One God, One Truth, Two Books

"All truth," we are often reminded, "is God's truth." Fair enough... But if God is the author of two books, the book of nature given through general revelation and the book of Scripture given by special revelation, then our well-worn slogan will need some nuancing before it will ellicit anything more than a yawn.

Few today would deny that it is the existence of some "higher power" that makes truth real and knowable by human beings (the overwhelming majority of Americans are theists, meaning the standards of qualification, obviously, are not that high). But when it comes to actually studying God's truth, and in particular his first book, the book of nature, how important is it to emphasize the God behind it all? Or to state the question with more specificity: When determining the freezing point of water, how crucial is it to highlight the fact that it is God who, before the foundation of the earth, sovereignly ordained the answer to be 32°?

Westminster Seminary California professor Dennis Johnson writes:

"... If we deny or minimize the motif of common grace, we run the risk of intellectual arrogance, a defensive isolationism from the culture in general and the academy in particular.... A devaluation of God's goodness in common grace may also foster an anti-intellectualism that despises God's general revelation in the created order and his providential dealings in history. Spiritually, ignoring common grace may foster attitudes of suspicion, antipathy, and contempt toward non-Christians" ("Spiritual Antithesis: Common Grace and Practical Theology," Westminster Theological Journal Vol. 64 [2002] 73-94).

If those subjects about which God has not spoken directly in his Word are therefore to be considered common (i.e., neither demonic nor divine), does this mean we can study them with, and be taught them by, pagans idolaters with no regard for God and his law? And will our studies in this environment be unavoidably deficient?

Or more simply, how much educational value are we to expect from the fact that all truth is God's?

Train Up a Child

In the spirit of our ongoing application of the law of Christ to contemporary issues, I would like to broach a subject that engenders impassioned debate on both sides:

Education.

There are various ways in which this issue has been approached. Some insist that, since "all truth is God's truth," education must take place from a uniquely Christian perspective (either in the form of homeschooling or through private Christian schools). Moreover, some advocates of Christian schools further insist that an educational model borrowed from the public schools with some Bible lessons thrown in is insufficient, opting rather for a classical, trivium-based approach (indeed, some are so sold on the classical model that they would opt for a non-Christian classical academy over a non-classical Christian school).

Others wonder whether, if a robust view of common grace is held, subjects like science, math, and literature really need to be taught under a distinctly Christian rubric. After all, doesn't our sharing the imago Dei with unbelievers allow us sufficient commonality to investigate these topics together?

And perhaps most importantly, do any of the proponents of the various views have the right to preface their position with "Thus saith the Lord"?

The Covenant of Creation and Natural Law

The Westminster Confession of Faith XIX.1 states that God, upon creating Adam, bound him to a covenant of works. The covenant of creation was inextricably bound with the law of creation, both of which are of perpetual validity.

The law of nature is a covenantal expression of God's will for his rational creatures, whether fallen or redeemed. Because this is the case Paul could hold Gentile sinners responsible for such breaches as failure to worship and glorify the one true God, idolatry, homosexuality, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, malice, envy, murder, strife, gossip, prideful boasting, disobedience to parents, and covenant breaking (Rom. 1:18-32).

As I stated previously, each covenant's law has its own inherent uses, the identification of which helps alleviate the difficulty that many unnecessarily feel in seeking various ways to apply "the moral law."

The law of creation serves to demonstrate the Creator's glorious existence (Psa. 19:1ff), to highlight his righteous demands upon his creatures (Rom. 1:18ff), and to hold man's sin and rebellion in check (Gen. 9:6). For those who are in Adam the creation covenant's curse-sanction still functions to accuse and condemn the conscience of sin and evil (Rom. 2:14-15). For those in Christ, however, the curse has been lifted but the precepts still remain in effect (Matt. 19:4-8; I Tim. 2:11-15).

The covenant of creation, therefore, provides us with our paradigm's first example of a covenant with its corresponding law. Because of the fact that all of mankind is "hardwired" to recognize this law and acquiesce in it, I will concede that it may be referred to as "the moral law" (though it is not my preferred nomenclature).

It is when we get to the next two examples that things will get interesting....

Mercy Ministry and the Two Kingdoms, Part Four: The Christian Individual

Another important qualification to the (undisputed) notion that churches should have ministries of mercy concerns the role of the Christian as an individual. The position that many adopt (but rarely attempt to prove) is that passages like the parable of the Samaritan in Luke 10:30-37 or Paul’s instruction to “do good to everyone” in Galatians 6:9-10 apply to the institutional Church as such, rather than to the individual believer.

Indeed, this distinction has not even occurred to many Christians.

But it must be admitted that there are countless activities in which individual believers may feel called to engage, yet which do not fall under the purview of the Church’s mandate, properly understood. For example, if the majority of the members of a local congregation believe that a particular political candidate promotes a more healthy vision for his constituents than his opponent, those believers, as citizens of the civil kingdom, are perfectly free to do whatever is in their power to trumpet his cause. But then to assume that the local church to which they belong should cast its vote accordingly is to make a huge—and illegitimate—leap. One Christian’s hero may be another Christian’s villain. Therefore for a church to align itself with a political party is to assume that the Bible favors a particular ideology which it never intended to address.

In short, the Church’s Great Commission (the preaching of the Word and administration of the Sacraments) is more limited than the various spiritual, social, and political causes in which individual believers are free to engage.

With respect to mercy ministries, it would be naïve to think that the issues of who should be the recipients of church-sponsored financial assistance, and what form that assistance should take, are cut and dry. What may appear as compassion for the disenfranchised in the eyes of one could easily look like an irresponsible handout to the lazy in the eyes of another. The age-old debate about whether it is better, in the long run, to give a hungry man a basket of fish or a pole and bait remains unsettled, with sincere believers on both sides of the issue.

My point, then, is simply that there is a place for the believer to act according to his own individual conscience without those actions becoming the official ministry of the Church. And if you think about it, for the Church to commandeer benevolence and trademark mercy is somewhat insulting to all the kind, caring Muslims, Catholics, and atheists out there.

Mercy Ministry and the Two Kingdoms, Part Three: The State

Though it is difficult to argue with the conclusions already reached that fallen creatures stand in need of mercy and that believers ought to play a role in alleviating people’s burdens, this does not really answer the question concerning the extent of the local church’s involvement in ministries of mercy. Many Christians and church leaders assume that the mere presentation of the need for mercy, coupled with some scattered proof-texts like those already cited, gives us all we need to develop a model for mercy ministry. But as I have been arguing, some qualifications are in order.

One of these concerns the divine institution of the State.

Due to man's fall and the massive upheaval and restructuring of the world and how he relates to it, the kingdom of man is now distinct from the kingdom of God, and the State is now distinct from the Church (the establishment of the State is hinted at in Genesis 4:15, in which the existence of the common grace city serves to reassure Cain that he would be protected by a divinely sponsored administration of justice after his killing of Abel. The State’s role is described explicitly in Romans 13:1ff).

The State, therefore, exists alongside the Church as a divinely ordained institution that administers the blessings of God to humanity. Their respective jurisdictions are distinct, of course, as are the blessings they provide, but the fact remains that they both serve to protect the interests of their subjects.

How does this apply to mercy ministries? One way is that it reminds us that the Church is not the only vehicle that God has created for the alleviation of mankind’s burdens. To place the entire responsibility for societal reform upon the shoulders of the Church, therefore, is not only asking too much, it is ignoring the existence and function of common grace city.

Furthermore, when churches such as Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City state that their vision is “to bring about personal changes, social healing, and cultural renewal through a movement of churches and ministries that change New York City and through it, the world,” one may reasonably inquire whether this is an example of the Church biting off more than she can—or was ever intended to—chew.

Mercy Ministry and the Two Kingdoms, Part One: Pick a Sphere, Any Sphere

The idea that the Church's mandate includes alleviating the woes of the world's poor is axiomatic for many. Part of Bono's appeal for Africa, for example, includes the fact that the Old Testament is replete with references to the poor and Israel's responsibility to care for the disenfranchised within her borders.

But as with most discussions about cult and culture, the issue is rarely as simple as our prooftexts suggest.

Crucial to a proper understanding of this topic is the recognition of the various spheres that God has ordained to meet the manifold needs of his creatures -- these spheres being the Family, the State, and the Church. But it is also important to note that these spheres reflect a "divine reordering" that necessarily took place after Adam’s fall. As Meredith Kline writes, "[From the beginning] the originally mandated temple-city of Adam encompassed the totality of life and activity of humanity within its assigned jurisdiction." Or to de-Klineanize it a little, before Adam's fall, there was one holy kingdom and one holy sphere.

In the postlapsum situation, however, "the… aspects and functions of the original city were distributed among several nonconcentric authority structures that replaced the one original universal kingdom." Thus "along with the institution of the State in this common grace realignment stands the institution of the Family, with its own share of the redistributed functions and its own sphere of authority" (Kingdom Prologue, p. 172).

In short, after the fall the holy aspects of life are consigned to the spiritual kingdom of Christ, while the institutions of the Family and the State are the vehicles for the furtherance of God's temporal, common grace agenda.

So the questions that remain include: Is material aid for the poor a common or redemptive errand? Which sphere(s) -- Church, Family, or State -- bear(s) responsibility for the poor? Is the poor's claim upon the Church only valid if those in need are believing members?

What think ye?

Kuyperian Sabbatarianism?

There's no question that the Christian history of this country is a history of Sabbatarianism (albeit misdirected).

But here's my question for Reformed followers of the Dutch theologian and statesman Abraham Kuyper (read: the majority of Reformed people): If culture is in need of redemption and transformation, it would follow that culture, as such, is bad (why else would they want to change it?). And since culture is bad, there can be no legitimate cultural participation beyond the redemptive efforts of those Kuyperians who are trying to transform it. Following me so far? Christians aren't supposed to go to bad places for fun.

But if the aim of the Kuyperian Calvinist is to redeem the culture, then what good is the Sabbath for this goal? All it does is annually waste 52 otherwise perfectly acceptable days which could have been spent on cultural renewal.

For a two-kingdoms advocate, on the other hand, culture is neither demonic nor divine, but is simply the common grace arena in which the divine drama of redemption is played out. Culture is to be enjoyed because it is legitimate for its own sake, not for its redemptive potential.

So when the believer with a two-kingdoms paradigm for understanding cult and culture decides to withdraw from cultural activity on the Lord's Day, she is actually making a sacrifice.

But the Kuyperian can make no such boast, for her cult/culture paradigm demands cultural withdrawal not only on Sunday, but on Monday through Saturday too. If culture is so flawed that we Christians must transform it, then withdrawal from it on Sunday should either be assumed (since the call to shun evil is valid seven days a week), or it is an incredibly poor use of the transformationist's time.

In order for the refusal of cultural engagement one full day every week to actually be a sacrifice for the believer, therefore, that cultural engagement must be considered legitimate -- and even good -- the other six days of the week.

And it's the two-kingdoms model that allows us to make that sacrifice.

A Grammar Lesson

During a discussion about the two kingdoms and the nature of the believer's role in culture, one of my former seminary profs once said, "There's a difference between an adjective and an adverb."

After nodding my head knowlingly (as if I actually understood what he was talking about), I walked out of his office somewhat bewildered. But then it clicked....

There is a difference between doing something that is holy (adjective), and doing something holily (adverb). For example, when I eat bread and drink wine at Jesus' table every Lord's Day, I am doing something that is holy -- the activity itself is sacred. But when I mow my lawn for the glory of God, the fact that I am doing it in a holy manner does not transform the activity from being common to being redemptive.

As Christian citizens of both the civil and spiritual kingdoms, we are called to engage in cultural and cultic activity, and moreover, the cultural activity we participate in should be done in a holy manner (i.e. out of gratitude to God, and to his glory). But this doesn't change the nature of this activity.

In other words, humming "A Mighty Fortress" while mowing my lawn doesn't mean I'm reclaiming yardwork for Christ.

God's Vision for the City

I admit, I'm being a bit facetious with the title of this post. But since 99% of what's written about "The City" is from a transformationist (and I would argue, postmillennial) perspective, I just couldn't resist the irony....

The common grace City is something that came into existence postlapsum (after the fall) for the purpose of creating a stage upon which the drama of redemption could be played out (Gen. 4:13-16). It is neither demonic nor divine, but rather is a place where cultural, non-religious activity is to be performed by believers and non-believers alike (I Pet. 2:13-17).

What, then, is "God's Vision for the City"? Is the City a legitimate institution? Is its secular identity something that makes it off-limits or in need of transformation?

(Please note, I am not asking whether people in the City should be evangelized, or whether we ought to show mercy to the poor. Yes to both).

From the testimony of the Bible, it seems that God's vision for the City is that it remain what it is until the end. The story of Noah gives us a type of the final parousia, and there, Noah is called to be a "preacher of righteousness" while preparing the ark as the only hope for a doomed culture. And according to Jesus in Matt. 24:37ff, the days leading up to the Lord's coming will be no different -- the City will continue to exist, with its buying, selling, eating, drinking, and marriage, until God's purposes for it are exhausted. And when you take Rev. 17 and 18 into account, the conclusion seems inescabale that the City, "Babylon the Great," will be pronounced "Fallen! Fallen!" along with all its beauty, glory, merchantry, art, craftsmanship, and music.

If there is an implicit rebuke against God's people in any of these passages for their failure to transform the city from being creational to redemptive, I can't find it.

Can you?

A Biblical Defense of the Two Kingdoms: Part Three - NT Evidence

One of my former seminary profs recently presented a paper to the Evangelical Theological Society titled "In Praise of Profanity" (or something like that). And no, he wasn't talking about cuss words....

The term "profanity," of course, refers to things that are profane. Now "profane" can mean vulgar, but it doesn't have to mean that. One of the dictionary's definitions is simply "secular and non-religious." In other words, things that are profane are distinct from things that are holy; they are non-holy, but not necessarily unholy. Get it?

Understanding this category is crucial for understanding the two kingdoms paradigm. Some areas of life -- particularly those belonging to the civil kingdom -- are non-religious, i.e. they do not properly belong to the category of redemption, but to the category of creation. Yes, God still rules these areas, but he does so as Creator, not as Redeemer.

Consider a couple New Testament passages. First, Rom. 13:1-7. Here we read that all people, including believers, are to subject themselves to the government, even if it is evil and corrupt (which it was when Paul wrote this). The reason for this submission is that the civil magistrate bears the sword as a minister of God (v. 4). Therefore we are to render to Caesar his due: taxes, revenue, honor, and respect (v. 8).

Secondly, look at I Pet. 2:11-17. Describing our conduct "among the Gentiles" (or, out in the world), the apostle tells us to be subject to "every human institution" (vv. 12, 13). The reason we are to live this way is that we, like the Jews during their Babylonian captivity who received the same instruction, are "sojourners and exiles" in this age (v. 11). Our goal, like our Old Testament counterparts, is to pray for and seek the prosperity of our leaders and land, "that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way" (I Tim. 2:2; cf. Jer. 29:4-7).

What's conspicuous (and perhaps disappointing) by its absence is the call to redeem the culture and transform it into the kingdom of Christ. But the reason this call is absent from the biblical narrative (with the exception of typological, theocratic contexts like Israel in the holy land) is that, in God's economy, the civil and spiritual kingdoms are distinct. And further, this is how God has ordained life to be, at least in this present age.

Or to return to what I mentioned above, there is a category that is properly called "profane," and the civil matters that fall into this category (politics, art, dentistry) are just that, profane. They are not unholy, but non-holy. They are not sacred, but secular. They are not cultic, but cultural. In a word, these things are neither demonic nor divine, but are simply common grace endeavors that were never intended to be forcefully transferred or transformed from one category to the other.

So if the art you like doesn't depict biblical scenery, if the politician you voted for doesn't invoke the name of Jesus, or if the guy who tuned up your car doesn't have a fish on his add in the Yellow Pages, don't worry. Common grace blessings are just that: common to all God's creatures (believing or not). Until we recognize this, we'll never be able to enjoy them.

Thoughts or questions? Feel free to click on "comments" and join the conversation....