Christian schools are businesses. It costs a lot of money to keep them going. Maybe some schools admit only Christian kids, but I attended two Christian high schools that accepted non-Christians. In fact, I am aware of a few kids who “gave their hearts to Jesus” as a result of the Bible teaching and loving environment they found themselves in.

All in all, if parents have fallen down in the duty to raise their children properly, I’m glad Christian schools are out there to provide supplementary catechesis. I profited a great deal spiritually, intellectually and socially by attending Christian schools. I will always be thankful for the influence certain teachers and students had on my life.

Steve: A further response is still forthcoming, but it turned into a multi-part piece. I’m posting part one tonight. Thanks for the continuing dialogue.

andrew, i wonder if you might give me your transformationist perspective on something.

tonight we had a guest preacher, dr. stob from calvin college. he now resides in florida and apparently was at some point a headmaster in a presbyterian school there. he made reference to the fact that at this school only 15% of the parents were church goers. he lamented this, of course, and went on to politely shake his finger at parents who “farm their kids out to nurture the faith.” but it made me wonder, once again, how transformationists can really expect anything less than this. in my view, this thing called “christian education” only ever seems to amount to christian enviornment in which parents seem to have this (to me, very) odd notion that something will be picked up along the way and somehow instilled in their kids.

15%? that really seems to help make the case for those who resist trasnformationist views that this linking up the faith to cultural endeavor (i.e. education, for example) is at least equal to the task of the ordained church. if they aren’t going to church, it must be safe to assume that no family worship or catechatical instruction is taking place. isn’t the christian family a close second to the nurture of the church proper from a truly covenantal POV? i found myself befuddled at dr. stob’s finger rattling about “farming the kids out” when everything that props up the very pedagogy seems to engender this: “what incentive do i have to nurture any dimension of faith when, 7-8 hours a dat for 6 days a week it is being presumably done for me?” are you really that surprised at the 15% stat? in my view, nothing takes the place of a parent’s ordained role of nurturing his covenant child’s faith. transformationists always seem to nod when they hear a sentiment like that because it sounds so awfully pious. but then their jaw drops when they hear the 15% thing. maybe i should append my sentiment to say “privately, at home, within the broader framework of the local church; and there is not one single teacher or administrator that can take the place of my ordained authority which my child is created to internalize–why so many act as if that is untrue, i do not know”? i don’t know, maybe. but it does seem to me that it is a quite natural expectation that when you begin with this idea that the world must conform to redemptive paradigm and program of God’s Christ you will end up with the farming out mentality–it’s a natural course.

the congregation, expectedly, was aghast. i felt like saying, exactly, folks. christian education ought not take the place of the home (nor the local church) to nuture the faith, and if you really believe that you might take another look at your philosophy of education. i don’t begrudge anyone’s personal choice in how to educate their children. but some meta-cognition might be in order to make some sense out of such a dismal reality.

i did feel quite at ease and exempt from the castigating (although in all fairness he was most gracious about it) as we are probably the only family in our transformationist church that has a completely different tack when it comes to how our children will be educated and nurtured in the faith. and i always find it not a little ironic that whenever i am pegged as deacon to pray for the offering it usually is for one form or another of helping the cause for “christian education.”

steve z

stevez
June 22nd, 2007 at 1:08 pm

“In my view, the state should willingly submit itself to the spiritual authority and order society to protect the Church & facilitate her salvific mission.”

SZ: So what do you do with the reality that it doesn’t? There are a lot of things that “should happen” but never seem to. I hear this all the time from transformers and wonder how they find any ease with this constant tension between what they think ought to be and what is. But to even back up to the claim that this should even happen in the first place, let’s take the Jesus and Peter encounter in which Peter stands in front of Jesus to keep Him from facing crucifixion. You know the rest. Was Jesus wrong to be as audacious as to call such a devoted disciple ‘Satan’ and demand he get out of His way? (This demand to get out of the way seems ironic in light of your call to get out of the way.) And then with Pilate: instead of silence, where is the charge to protect Jesus and make it all go away with further charges to protect the disciples and heed both Him and His followers? It seems to me that were the transformationist set of assumptions to come to pass we actually end up with Peter (and to up the stakes, Satan) getting his way and stopping the purchase of sinners and thereby eradicating the very program of God—which is why I find transformationism to be not a little antithetical to the Christian religion.

“The Church’s witness announces the Lordship of Christ to every man in whatever station, including ruling authorities. Paul was sent not only to the Gentiles, but their kings as well (Acts 9:15). All are responsible to submit to Christ’s authority and order their affairs in light of his coming judgment. Since the Father has committed all authority to the Son for the purpose of salvation (John 17:2; Cf. Matt. 28:18, Lk. 10:22, Jn. 3:35, 5:26-27), Christ’s office is a royal-redemptive unity. His single office is that of sacerdotal kingship, or, royal priesthood (Heb. 8:1-2).”

SZ: Again, we may agree on certain assertions but have different meanings behind them I agree, of course, that “Paul’s mission was to not only the Gentiles but to their kings.” The Gospel is held out to all men, no matter their station. And we see this mirrored also in Jesus. But are we really to interpret the dimension of the Gospel being held to earthly offices of power to mean that the Gospel comes to change them in the here and now? When we see Jesus come to Pilate He actually stands silent before him. Wouldn’t we expect Him to open His mouth and with one hand’s finger point to the Torah in the other, telling Pilate “if you can’t lend a hand then get out of the way, because we are here to make this a better place”? Why the silence? Why a life of obscurity and sorrows, only to be crushed and hanged high? And why the same fate for all the Apostles, and why the rejoicing at the same such treatment? Wouldn’t those who truly expect that “the state should willingly submit itself to the spiritual authority and order society to protect the Church & facilitate her salvific mission” be more embittered by persecution than to actually rejoice over it? I find all these NT narratives painful and counter-intuitive to these notions that the Church exists to shape things up. And what about the Church’s own history as it runs concurrently with the world? Why have things never really been changed; why is the world no better off than it ever was even in the light of this blessed thing called the Church in its midst?

“Because it is impossible to separate the law from the Lawgiver, it is improper—to say the least—for Christians to teach that God is indifferent on whether corporate society acknowledges Christ’s redemptive reign as long as it follows some moral precepts derived from natural law.”

SZ: The charge of indifference is as befuddling as that of neutrality (I know you dismiss the assertion that you do the latter, but I only used your literal words that said as much). I agree that God is not so indifferent. God is not indifferent when natural man naturally labors under the natural CoW. Natural man does this in order to claim his own justification—he was made for as much. Natural law is not arbitrary or just a way to keep man in line for a temporal spell. It serves that purpose, to restrain evil and promote that which is good. But as grounds for justification or probationary graduation is to man’s demise. He can’t stand on that ground and expect reward but only punishment. That is what natural man does: he points to his own execution of the CoW and mistakenly believes he’s captured it. And God howls. Howling is not the language of indifference. The only ground to stand on is the CoG. And so what would you suggest here, that man be forced somehow to bend the knee in some sort of Spanish Inquisition (Monty Python, anyone?)?

steve

This isn’t quite right. I do not recognize a dichotomy between cultic and common spheres as you do. I recognize an institutional difference between the Church and other institutions only. Christians as members of the Church inhabit the common space of society along with unbelievers. All institutions, including the Church, are subject to the authority of the state in matters of public order and security. Likewise, all institutions are subject (whether they recognize it or not) to the spiritual authority of the Church. In my view, the state should willingly submit itself to the spiritual authority and order society to protect the Church & facilitate her salvific mission. From the last comment I posted, you can see that I think the Church’s mission is to sanctify all of life, indeed all creation, through means of the word and prayer. In concert with this cultic sanctification, Christians should work to cultivate the possibilities inherent in nature in anticipation of the Lord’s coming.

My complaint against W2K is that it views the present creation itself as an enclosed system, closed off from the in-breaking new creation, and existing merely as a space where the respective destinies of human individuals play themselves out. In this, W2K men implicitly deny either: that the first creation was meant to be glorified after Adam completed his probation under the CoW, or, that after the fall creation retained this purpose. It is in this sense—not in an absolutely morally relativistic sense—that W2K attributes neutrality to the created order and futility to the cultural task.

W2K attributes an intrinsic good to creation that has no respect to its orientation toward the transcendent, which should be identified, specifically, as the future glorification of God in Christ. In the words of St. Paul: “From him, and through him, and to him are all things” (Rom. 11:36; Cf. Col. 1:15-20). An insensitivity to the cosmic scope of salvation allows W2K men to feel free to mute the Church’s public proclamation.

The Church’s witness announces the Lordship of Christ to every man in whatever station, including ruling authorities. Paul was sent not only to the Gentiles, but their kings as well (Acts 9:15). All are responsible to submit to Christ’s authority and order their affairs in light of his coming judgment. Since the Father has committed all authority to the Son for the purpose of salvation (John 17:2; Cf. Matt. 28:18, Lk. 10:22, Jn. 3:35, 5:26-27), Christ’s office is a royal-redemptive unity. His single office is that of sacerdotal kingship, or, royal priesthood (Heb. 8:1-2). Because it is impossible to separate the law from the Lawgiver, it is improper—to say the least—for Christians to teach that God is indifferent on whether corporate society acknowledges Christ’s redemptive reign as long as it follows some moral precepts derived from natural law.

Ultimately, antinomianism is not the absence of law. Antinomianism is the practice of autonomy, of being a law unto one’s self, of choosing which laws will be obeyed on the basis of one’s reason. Antinomianism is ultimately the rejection of Christ’s authority, for whoever does not receive the Son, receives not the Father (I Jn. 2:23). All of the lesser commandments derive their justification and force from the greatest, which is “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind.”

Since the first Christmas morning, faithful witnesses have identified Jesus as both the original Archetype of humanity as well as the locus of worship toward which natural revelation points. Thus, natural revelation was never given to stand alone. After creating Adam with the inherent capacity to know righteousness, God immediately gave verbal instruction. Besides the fact that men suppress the truth in unrighteousness, natural revelation finds its completion only in the explicit revelation unfolded in the writings of the inspired prophets.

Besides the law’s list of prohibitions, there are positive commands. The most fundamental is the “greatest commandment.” Man was to fulfill this commandment by means of cultivating creation for God’s glory. This original CoW was transformed by the event of Christ’s first advent. The Church is no longer under it, for it has been given the joyous task of cooperating with the triumphant Christ in his royal-sacerdotal work of cosmic redemption. This is the true import of the third use of the law. The cycle of Adamic failure has ended, and a new world approaches. My hope lies not in the potentialities of the powers of this age, rather, my hope is in the appearance of my beloved King Jesus. My strength derives from the royal anointing which we received at Pentecost. The Holy Spirit is here now, and, as on the first day of the old creation, broods over it in order to transform it into a new creation to be filled with the glory of God.

Steve, I’ll address the micro/macro, imperative/indicative issues as well as other points you’ve made, as soon as I can.

well, if DRC is for those who see that link between Christ and culture maybe darryl needs to turn in his piece and badge (little good-natured levity, that).

this is what can confuse me: “Why can’t we be Pilgrim-Crusaders who through faith conquer kingdoms, administer justice, gain promises, rout armies, and endure torture, jeers, flogging, and imprisonment, for whom this present evil age remains unworthy? (Heb. 11:33-37.”

perhaps i am slavish to a plain and simple reading of any text, but how in the world (so to speak) can one be at once a pilgrim and a crusader? i know all you say is an effort to answer that question, but th eonly way i apprehend it is to re-write the rules and definitions of both phrases. an dperhaps i am just too old-fashioned, but i much prefer playing by rules. but here is what further confounds me: “…through faith conquer kingdoms (etc.)…” i hope i am not so naive enough as to not by this point understand our essential differences, andrew. but to my mind, this is to violate paul’s own dichotomy between the eye of faith and the eye of the flesh. we have faith in what is not seen, etc. the biblical category of faith transcends what is presently grasped–that seems the very point. further, i don’t, as i read scripture and in my own grasp of primitive church history, see *any* model that tells us to take up arms; rather, i see calls to sheath the sword (per Christ’s instruction to peter). paul–and all NT figures for that matter–seem quite uninterested in converting the emperor or changing the world around them in any way. i see nothing but absolute silence.

you say things like the “church is the ark of salvation” or “Christ is the fulfillment of all things good, true and beautiful,” and i find myself nodding. but i think we mean vastly different things. like darryl points out and i have already said (if all things are sacred then nothing is), there is this strange conflation between the common and sacred which i just don’t see. given the choice of two pieties, on the one hand that piety which sees creation as essentially wicked (i.e. fundamentalism, or better, pietism) and that which begins with an opposite assumption, namely that it is essentially good, but then keeps going and elevates it to sacred (i.e. neo-calvinism), i am inclined to opt for the latter but with great reservation; it is far better to start with a creation-good category. i contend that the former stuff of pietism is worse, but not by a heck of a lot.

maybe it’s the latent pagan in me having been reared in secularism, but perhaps the pagans can actually teach us something (after all, even satan is God’s servant, yes?). in my pagan and secular rearing the world, of course, wasn’t bad at all. yet, i also never had any sense that it was eternal or salvific either. of course, in the end, paganism has to find hope in this world since it’s the only deal on thr table per the naturally programmed CoW. this is where i perceive i veer sharply as a christian and where, in point of fact, i see the subtle yet crucial difference that makes the difference. and i said it before: hope. where is your hope? is it in this world or the next, and if in the next, on what grounds? i perceive paul’s hope to be in the next and on the grounds of justification through Christ alone, etc.

zrim (yes…well, close. my last name is zrimec. i readily admit it to be quite pathetic but ‘zrim’ is my mother’s nickname for my father, for whom i have profound respect and admiration…so i stole it, since i have no nickname, something i always wanted. i look forward to exchanging even that name, with as much temporal value as it might have for me, for a better one in the next world.)

I, too, enjoy the interaction on DRC, and have found many opportunities to refine my thinking on various aspects of the Christ-culture relation. I don’t worry so much about personal motives as I do the destructiveness of certain theories and practices. In the face of your criticisms, there are only so many times I can affirm the penultimacy of the present order of things in different ways without it becoming an exercise in futility. Also, one either accepts there is a cultural aspect to redemption or one doesn’t. A mere reading of the NT, without reference to OT expectation or historical development of Christianity, can only prove inconclusive on the subject. I could be wrong, but DRC seems to be primarily a forum for those who think Christianity and culture have some proper relation.

While not having the advantage of reading Darryl’s biography on Nevin, I’ve had the opportunity of reading some of his writings. In dong so, I’ve found numerous correspondences between his thought and the Christological thought of the Church Fathers. Nominal familiarity with the thought world of the Fathers would seem to provide a context in which to appreciate Nevin’s sentiments. My sense is that many Christians today, even educated ones such as yourself, have little appreciation for the Trinitarian and Christological insights of the first several centuries of Christian thought. What place does the Trinity or even the hypostatic unity of Christ’s natures have in the kind of “confessional piety” and worship you advocate?

As far as any latent liberal tendencies I might possibly have, to argue for the imperative of sanctifying cultural institutions and artifacts is not indicative of a de-supernaturalizing or rationalizing impulse characteristic of Liberalism. Rather, I insist on the present relevance of Christ for all of human life, indeed, all of creation. I believe it is the Church’s mission to apply the redemption of Christ in a comprehensive way that instrumentally effects continuity between the old and new creations. Like the crimson cord that saved not only Rahab and her family, but her house as well, the ministry of the Church works (like salt) to preserve and sanctify things of this world for the next. The Church is quite literally, In the words of the celebrated phrase, “the Ark of Salvation.”

If neo-calvinism implies that creation is somehow sacred, I must plead guilty to agreeing with the neo-calvinists. I believe the world was polluted by sin (not just in a metaphorical or legal way, but in a real way), and that Christ, through his Church in the power of the Holy Spirit, works to purify and redeem the world. Again, I affirm the goodness of the world as destined for glory (after a purgation of fire), but W2K affirms a “goodness” that has no respect to ultimate ends. In my understanding, the transcendence of the new creation in Christ is the source of all creaturely value. Christ is the Logos, after all.

There is more than one way in which someone can be “too tied to the world.” One may consider the particular forms of our present earthly life as ultimate, so that his only thought is of the practical imperatives of order, security, and prosperity. It is certainly possible to confuse the interests of a parochial group with God’s ultimate purposes, whether it be a clan, a nation, or even… a denomination. However, there is another kind of attachment to the world that involves willful complicity in keeping the whole of human society enslaved to the tyranny of sin and spiritual darkness. This compromise with the “world” is direct insubordination to Christ’s command in the Great Commission, and is (to my thinking) the most unattractive aspect of W2K theology by far.

Finally, I see no conflict between the Crusader and Pilgrim metaphors. I do not wish to oppose them to each other, since, as I’ve mentioned before, the NT attributes a “militant” aspect to Christian witness. Why can’t we be Pilgrim-Crusaders who through faith conquer kingdoms, administer justice, gain promises, rout armies, and endure torture, jeers, flogging, and imprisonment, for whom this present evil age remains unworthy? (Heb. 11:33-37) Unlike the OT saints, we have received the promised Kingdom (v. 39); why should we think our election is some kind of escape capsule (like the Rapture) that delivers us from humanity’s collective cultural responsibility?

Instead of a one-sided defeatist “theology of the cross,” I propose a theology of cross and glory. The era of inevitable Adamic failure is over; we are now living under the terms and in the power of a New Covenant. Let us humbly serve our fellow man by developing Christian culture, and perchance the Holy Spirit will draw sinners who see their need of it. Let us humbly obey the Lord the best we are able, and patiently wait for him to exalt us in the time he so chooses.

I can certainly see why Andrew doesn’t see any theologically compelling reasons to accept the two kingdsoms. I’ve been fairly fulsome in my expression and nothing has yet to hit the mark. If only Andrew could be neutral.

Maybe the apostle Paul will help. He wrote: “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise, God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong, God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Cor. 1:27ff). If the Bible, nay God, is our model, why would we choose the wise, the strong, and the high and reputable (say Christendom) for our cultural model if God chooses to use the opposite in his work? Well, maybe we could choose the wise, strong and high and reputable if two ways are at work, the way of redemption and the way of creation-providence.

As for marriage, I’ve never said that pagan and Christian marriage are the same. Christians use the institution to glorify God, pagans don’t. But it is an institution that is available to both, and it is an institution that won’t be around in the new heavens and new earth. Andrew’s reasons for claiming Christian marriage is different run in the direction of Rome and turning it into a sacrament. Maybe I’m beginning to understand the appeal of Christendom.

And then there is eating: before saying that Christian meals point in the direction of the Marriage supper of the Lamb, I wonder if Andrew should consider that pagan meals do as well — but in the pagan case to their own destruction. Both meals are indicative of the image of God in man, and both point back to creation. Since these meals are common, I’d say they have more significance as part of the created order, not as the redemptive one. But if all meals point in the direction of the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, then doesn’t that make the Lord’s Supper chopped liver? Again, the transformationist view leads to a sacramental view of everything.

By the way, one of the best books on the significance of eating is Leon Kass’ The Hungry Soul. Not only does he do a remarkable job of pointing out the image-of-God-in-man significance of the way humans eat, but his insights suggest that non-Christians are as wise if not wiser than Christians about the good things of God’s creation.

One thing I do find interesting is that you charge a penchant for neutrality in the common sphere and antinomianism in the cultic. I understand, I think, your charges. But I wouldn’t characterize the results of my views that way.

In my own grasp of 2k/natural law this idea of neutrality seems a misnomer.

I wouldn’t say neutrality is the best word at all. After all, I myself am not really neutral on any given issue; most people I know have views, to greater or lesser degrees, on any given common issue. Furthermore, I have views on things and feel quite persuaded in them enough to consider others wrong and me right; I use words like dis/agree and right/wrong and good/bad. It seems to me that’s hardly the language of “neutrality.” If I were neutral I’d use words like different or orientation or preference or dis/like.

It always sounds to me that transformationists are saying that if one isn’t, as I refer to it, reaching for the God-lever, going beyond simply saying “I am right and you are wrong” in order to give my own perspective more clout or power that he is really “being neutral.” But how can one be neutral if he has the audacity to actually say someone else is wrong? Christian secularists do have some thing sin common with cultural leftists, I will concede. But the stuff of neutrality really comports under the latter, not the former.

The go-to charge of antinomianism seems odd. I know you make these micro- macro-distinctions but, to be honest, I find them sort of manufactured since it should go without saying that the categories for obedience to which I refer are both individual and corporate; the HB was written for both the individual believer and the church proper. But therein seems to lie our difference—I see these forms culled from scripture to mean how the church may and ought to govern herself and her members. Perhaps predictably, I am a stickler for that pesky taxonomy of indicative/imperative. If pagans are not included in the indicative you can’t charge them with the imperatives. And if you ask me, one of the most lamentable conditions of the Church today is the relative absence of discipline. It gives those of us with high views of grace a black eye and ammunition for pagans to charge hypocrisy. In my own church (which, keep in mind, is quite transformationist) I think I am consider something of a curmudgeon in light of a particular situation that has chaffed me for two years which I think should be handled with resolute discipline. Antinomian? I still don’t get it.

I have another set of questions to which I wonder if you might respond (remember, I am asking genuinely, not tauntingly):

I wonder what one does with scripture when it no longer serves the immediate and contemporary purposes of those who want to specifically apply it? I think of the anti-abortionists who cite the psalm about being knit together in mother’s womb as biblical evidence that the public policies of the religious right are what God intends. What happens in times and places where the socio-political scene more or less comports with how certain transformers would want to see the public policy shake out (i.e. it is thoroughly suppressed)? What does being knit in mother’s womb mean then?

Same question for those with different applications. What happens to scripture which supposedly calls for debt relief or the eradication of poverty, the end of war/promotion of peace, etc. in prosperous environs?

What happens when the “grim and destitute” are not so paltry anymore?

zrim