Faith Seeking Understanding
Pastor’s Blog Sections
Kevin Schut, Of Games and God: A Christian Exploration of Video Games
A consideration of video games within a loose framework of the Reformed understanding of general grace and creation modified by a post-modern strain of epistemological humility/coolness/antinomianism.
Brazo Press, 2013.
Summary: A consideration of video games within a loose framework of the Reformed understanding of general grace and creation modified by a post-modern strain of epistemological humility/coolness/antinomianism.
The book is likely best summarized by Schut’s: “So, taking all the stuff we’ve just discussed, here’s what I think” (67). “But to my way of thinking. . .” (122). “I get the feeling from some Christian reviews and essays that there can only be one right way for a follower of Christ to think about an issue. I’m not at all convinced this is the case when we talk about something like, say, gender in video games. In any case, even if there is a right and wrong interpretation of a video game, I believe strongly in the notion of grace—if we get something wrong, it is covered” (176).
In other words, Dr. Schut’s understanding of theology allows him to play games along these lines: “The chain-mail bikini is very revealing. In Fantasy RPG artwork, a shapely woman warrior stereotypically wears her armor like a beer commercial model. She either leaves her glorious torso exposed to slashing swords of enemies. . .(see the unavoidable image on p. 94)—or wears a skintight, suffocating suit of armor. . . (93)
[Under the image] “The princess Amelie, sporting a variation on the chain-mail bikini. A better title for this game would probably be King’s Bounty: Poorly Armored Princess. To be fair, this really is a fun game, even if the skin shown (mostly in this game-opening image) is totally gratuitous” (94)
The book contains some fairly high level philosophical analysis: Video games are media. As a medium video games have attributes similar to other medium—narrative, use of symbols for communication, rules. But video games also allow the possibility of creating an interactive experience that includes immersion in the activity and play. Video games as media are neither good nor evil, but like “all media is broken” (43).The content of the games is also neither good nor evil because “[v]ideo games are a site where we create meaning” (26).
And this leads to statements like “for one person, the knife evokes the fear of an attack, and for the next, the joy of cooking. So does the image of the knife suggest violence or tastiness? Video-game worlds are phenomenally complex, requiring a lot of interpretation” (58-59)
And the conclusion: “What I believe is that for Christians, all things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial. What this means in practice is constant self-monitoring, conversation , and engagement. Do bloodthirsty games encourage me to be bloodthirsty? Am I less sympathetic to the oppressed after playing video games? Am I buying into attitudes and ideologies that I should not, attitudes that glorify destructive acts, inflicting pain, and causing death” (71)?
There are also simply confusing statements: “I can guarantee that humanity became something different after the invention of the chair” (80). And, “I keep waiting for a video game, for instance, that explores the theological concept of grace—a kind of experimental anticompetive game” (48). It’s not readily apparent how “humanity became something different” with or without chairs or how the unmerited favor of God (i.e. grace) could be experimental and anticompetive.
Detriments/Benefits: Dr. Schut has given us an academically informed discussion on video games and expressed his opinion from a generally Christian worldview.
His bibliography is helpful and his discussion of education and the dangers of fanboyism are edifying.
The difficulty is that he has not made a serious attempt to think through what God’s opinion is of imagined violence, sensuality, erotic images, or even the differences between rest and play or entertainment and thought experiments.
There is overlap between Schut’s Christian intuitions and Scripture, but he seems to be more reflexive than biblically grounded. God makes clear statements against imagined violence (Prov. 3:31, 16:27; Ps. 11:5), imagined eroticism (Matt. 5:28), and enjoying wickedness (Ps. 34:6) as sin, but a reader will have to turn elsewhere to attempt to discern if they are pleasing God by playing Red Dead Redemption or Grand Theft Auto for the purpose of entertainment. Schut’s only moral concern seems to be that playing with “chainmail bikini” clad babes leads to adultery and not that it leads to lust.
Schut carefully and correctly argues that video games cannot be evil in themselves. This is firmly supported by Scripture (Rom. 14:14). And he points out that it is possible to imagine scenarios whereby a Christian can interact with the content of say Grand Theft Auto without necessarily sinning and supports this with 1 Corinthians 6:12. But because Schut makes no distinction between entertainment and thought experiments, there is no defense of pretending to pillage, murder, for the fun of it. The way of the wicked is described as joining those “who rejoice in doing evil and delight in the perverseness of evil” (Prov. 2:14). If we rejoice in imagining sin, we are sinning.
Besides the biblical element, there are two more components. The first is that the meaning of the symbols is decided by the user of the game, instead of an interaction between the game designers and the player. Communication is when one person communicates ideas to another person. The game designers of Wi Fit and King’s Bounty are purposely creating different communicative events. For instance Wi Fit purposely limits the eroticism in the avatars. The designers of the King’s Bounty expect players to enjoy the eroticism of the symbols, but for a Christian to “look with lustful intent” (Matt. 5:28) is sin. In other words to experience the King’s Bounty as intended by the designers is sin.
We find something similar in his argument about a knife above. Everyone readily admits that a knife can be used for good and evil. But how does the “symbol of knife” being used to stab zombies or slash prostitutes communicate “tastiness?” The meaning of a symbol is created by a context; for an event of communication to occur between the designers and the player there must be an agreement as to the meaning of knife within the rules of the video game. A player who attempts to play Red Dead Redemption by a personal symbol code of say Gatling guns functioning as ice-cream scoops and pistols as watermelons is not playing the game and has not communicated with the designers.
Schut has confused the fact that in a communication event within a medium there can be different moral intents and uses with communication itself. Jesus illustrates this for us clearly in (Matt. 22): the intent of Caesar stamping a coin with a blasphemous inscription on both sides and his own image was idolatry. Jesus’ permission to use such a coin did not suggest that he was giving a different meaning to the words or symbols that Caesar was using. Idolatry remains a sin, but one can use the coin without participating in the message as long as they don’t use it in the way intended by the creator. Schut teaches that using Grand Theft Auto as a sermon illustration and using it to pretend to steal cars and to lust is the same moral action, but this is not the teaching of Jesus.
The second issue is Schut’s understanding that media is broken. This functions as an undefended presupposition inside his system and allows if not requires moral compromise by Christians to engage with media. Christians cannot expect wholesome and good things from any medium because the media must carry perversity. But the Bible teaches that the broken thing is not our technology or communication mediums, but the human heart (Mark 7:18-23).
The human heart that rejoices over pretending to rip out a symbolic spinal column of a symbol of a man created in the image of God is sinning. The human heart that enjoys slashing symbols communicating prostitute with a symbol communicating chainsaw is sinning. Lusting after an erotic symbol of a woman who is not your wife according to Jesus is the same as committing adultery with her.
Jonathan Leeman, Church Membership: How the World Knows Who Represents Christ
Leeman makes the biblical argument that local congregations are embassies and gathering spots of the kingdom of heaven (Eph. 2:19; 6:18-20; 2 Cor. 5:20; Phil. 3:20). Thus, for the Christian church membership is not a voluntary association, because we are commanded to be a part of the local church by our Lord.
Crossway, 2012, 142 pgs.
Summary: Leeman makes the biblical argument that local congregations are embassies and gathering spots of the kingdom of heaven (Eph. 2:19; 6:18-20; 2 Cor. 5:20; Phil. 3:20). Thus, for the Christian church membership is not a voluntary association, because we are commanded to be a part of the local church by our Lord.
As representatives of the Lord Jesus Christ, the church has the responsibility to identify Christians and assist them in obeying the laws of the kingdom. The order of the church, who is recognized as a representative of Christ, and how Christians submit to the church are all carefully defined and explained from the Bible.
Exemplar Quotes:
Just as the Bible establishes the government of your nation as your highest authority on earth when it comes to your citizenship in that nation, so the Bible establishes the local church as your highest authority on earth when it comes to your discipleship to Christ and your citizenship in Christ’s present and promised nation (25).
When you open your Bible, stop looking for signs of a club with its voluntary members. Look instead for a Lord and his bound-together people. Look also for other forms of unity (brothers and sisters in a family, branches on a vine, etc.) (26).
Benefits/Detriments: Helpful, thoughtful, sometimes amusing, but always biblical. Highly recommended for all.
The Quest of the Holy Grail, P. M. Matarasso, trans.
An extended Christian critique of the secular forms of the code chivalry through a popular fable written in about 1200 AD. The knights of King Arthur’s Round Table are joined by Lancelot’s illegitimate son Galahad and set out on the quest for the holy grail. The story follows Lancelot’s discovery that he is not a true knight of Jesus Christ but rather a servant of the devil because of his mortal sin with Guinevere. It chronicles his conviction, repentance, and restoration to the faith.
Penguin Books, 2005, 304 pgs.
Summary: An extended Christian critique of the secular forms of the code chivalry through a popular fable written in about 1200 AD. The knights of King Arthur’s Round Table are joined by Lancelot’s illegitimate son Galahad and set out on the quest for the holy grail. The story follows Lancelot’s discovery that he is not a true knight of Jesus Christ but rather a servant of the devil because of his mortal sin with Guinevere. It chronicles his conviction, repentance, and restoration to the faith.
The three knights who discover the grail are Galahad, Perceval, and Bors. Galahad serves as the holy foil to Lancelot in the quest. All the strange adventures and visions of the knights are interpreted by monks, priests, and an angel. The adventure is a spiritual journey, so the fisticuffs and jousts are minimal.
Perhaps the most edifying quote in the books occurs in an exchange between Galahad and Lancelot:
Lancelot said, ‘Son, since it is for ever that I leave you, do you beseech the Master in my name not to let me quit His service, but so to keep me close that I may be His servant in this life and the next.’ And Galahad answered him: ‘Sir, there is no prayer so efficacious as your own. Be therefore mindful of yourself’ (259).
The book also contains one of the most helpful footnotes I’ve read:
In a general way the adventure represents the random, the gratuitous, the unpredictable elements in life; often it is a challenge which causes a man to measure himself against standards more than human, to gamble life for honour or both for love. To this the author of the Quest adds a further dimension. For him the adventure is above all God working and manifesting Himself in the physical world. To accept an adventure is to accept an encounter with a force which is in the proper sense of the word supernatural, an encounter which is always perilous for the sinner or the man of little faith and much presumption. To the faithful it implies submission to God’s providence (293-294).
Benefits/Detriments: The theology of the Quest is an interesting mix of late medieval theology. There is a manly respect for the sovereignty of God and human responsibility in salvation and daily life, regardless of the comments of the translator (cf. fn. 20). The cult of Mary is mentioned but is not at the center of the spirituality of the tale. Transubstantiation is assumed and illustrated by miraculous visions. Marriage is not presented as the Christian ideal, but virginity and constancy are heavily extolled. The temptation scenes and discussion of virginity are not erotic, but they are likely best left to more mature audiences. The footnotes should be perused with theological care but are generally very helpful.
The Quest is obviously the source of much of Tolkien and C. S. Lewis’ symbolism. Recommended for mature high school students and avid readers of Christian literature. Should be read by all thoughtful Christian young men who hope for adventure.
G. K. Chesterton, Saint Thomas Aquinas: The Dumb Ox
A brief biography of Thomas Aquinas and overview of his philosophy, written by a Roman Catholic apologist and critic of modernity G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936).
Sam Torode Books Arts, reprint, n.d.; 1933, 110 pgs.
Summary: A brief biography of Thomas Aquinas and overview of his philosophy, written by a Roman Catholic apologist and critic of modernity G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936).
In Chesterton’s view there are two enemies facing his readers: modernism and the “old Augustinian Puritanism” (1). Augustinianism as understood and taught by Luther “in a very real sense made the modern world” (109). Thus modernism and Augustinianism are collapsed into a single problem including the Manicheans (106), Buddhists, and Nihilists. Both modernism and Protestantism/Plato can only be cured by returning to the common sense position of Thomas who baptized Aristotle. The problem with Augustine is that he essentially creates two realities: the one that can be seen and the one that is thought or believed. Thomas’ common sense grounds epistemology in the five senses and the intrinsic goodness of God’s creation including the goodness of the human intellect, will, and affections and then works towards God through logic thus unifying reality. Creation used correctly leads to salvation, because there is no absolute division between God and man. The only thing that keeps people from submitting to Thomas’ arguments is a lack of time to consider the arguments carefully. Religion is then necessitated by the lack of leisure for most people and the ignorance of the masses.
Benefits/Detriments: Chesterton paints with a very broad brush in a witty, paradoxical, and interesting way; what he writes that is true is very true; what he writes that is untrue is very much a lie. Chesterton’s review of Thomas’ early life and Thomas’ understanding of being is helpful, as is much of the critique of modernism. As far as I am able to tell from having read Thomas, Chesterton has almost exhaustively misunderstood the modifications that Thomas made to Aristotle and his use of Scripture, Augustine, and the philosophers. We can add to this Chesterton’s belief that Dante was Thomistic rather than a follower of the heretical Muslim Averroes (82). And his criticism of Luther seems to be based on an overemphasis on Luther’s most hyperbolic rhetoric rather than his actual theology and practice.
Folded within Chesterton’s reading of Thomas is the claimed presupposition of the magisterium of the Roman Catholic Church. Yet he goes beyond Thomas on underestimating the noetic affects of the Fall and perhaps has even tacitly rejected the historical doctrine of original sin. Further, common sense cannot teach transubstantiation, the levitation of ox-like theologians, and floating animated crucifixes (72). The inclusion of this material completely undermines the epistemological argument of Chesterton, because he has recreated the dualistic world that he claims Thomas unifies by common sense.
If Chesterton is half the thinker he appears to be, he’s not defending Thomas, the Catholic Church, or any form of orthodox belief, but he is giving a very robust and popular defense of his understanding of a modified Aristotle and offering the Roman Church as a resting place for “rational” moderns. If this reading is correct, it allows a rather more Aristotelian then Christian interpretation of the last lines of the last chapter directly speaking of Thomas:
This is, in a very rude outline, his philosophy; it is impossible in such an outline to describe his theology. Anyone writing so small a book about so big a man, must leave out something. Those who know him best will best understand why, after some considerable consideration, I have left out the only important thing (99).
The most terrible issue is that much of Chesterton’s understanding of the baptizing of Aristotle and even of Thomas’ work breaks with the inspired teaching of Paul in 1 Corinthians 1-3. And I have a sudden insight that Lewis wasn’t joking when he wrote that in hell the bookshops were “of the sort that sell The Works of Aristotle” (The Great Divorce, first paragraph).
Elyse M. Fitzpatrick and Jessica Thompson, Give Them Grace: Dazzling Your Kids with the Love of Jesus
Mrs. Fitzpatrick and Thompson argue that most Christian parenting books and strategies tend to create moralistic Pharisees and angry rebels rather than Christians. The reason for this is our (meaning you, me, and our kid’s) tendency to trust in our own strength rather than God’s grace.
Crossway, 2011, 213 pgs.
Summary: Mrs. Fitzpatrick and Thompson argue that most Christian parenting books and strategies tend to create moralistic Pharisees and angry rebels rather than Christians. The reason for this is our (meaning you, me, and our kid’s) tendency to trust in our own strength rather than God’s grace.
Instead of encouraging our children to rely on their own strength to please us and ultimately God, the authors suggest we speak candidly to them about God’s law and their inability to obey it from the heart and the need for God’s grace. They do this by considering parental guidance in five categories: management is teaching the basic rules of life (eat broccoli-don’t hit your brother) and outward conformity to God’s law; nurture (love them and show them how Christ loves them); train them (show them how Christ’s death resurrection answers the problem); correct them (in the context of Christ’s work); and remind them of God’s promises. All of this has to be done within a framework of gospel wisdom rather than moralism or guaranteed “biblical” principles.
Detriments: There are some minor issues: a long and wholesome Andrew Murray quote without any disclaimers about his perfectionism; a few bizarre throwaway lines like, “But Jesus wouldn’t idolize God’s approval”—I don’t even know what is intended by these words. And there’s a lack of clarity on God’s use of the law to limit evil among non-believers (cf. 43). Pastors might find Ursinus’ Commentary on the Heidelberg Catechism sections on the law and the gospel of God helpful to clarify this for their congregations.
Benefits: One of the most helpful books I’ve read on parenting, because it requires parents to be wise and trust God and does not give new laws for us to follow.
A practical suggestion: Attempt to draw your children’s attention to the gospel a couple of times a day, but don’t create a new law that all your interactions with your children must include a link to the gospel. Proverbs 26:4-5 means that if and when we answer or teach is dependent on the situation.
See also, my review of J. C. Ryle’s, The Duties of Parents.
B. B. Warfield, Counterfeit Miracles
A series of lectures on counterfeit miracles given in 1917 to 1918. The book is divided up into six chapters: the cessation of the charismata, patristic and mediaeval marvels, Roman Catholic miracles, Irvingite gifts (cf. review of The Life of Edward Irving), faith-healing, and mind cure.
The Banner of Truth Trust, 1972, 327 pgs.
Summary: A series of lectures on counterfeit miracles given in 1917 to 1918. The book is divided up into six chapters: the cessation of the charismata, patristic and mediaeval marvels, Roman Catholic miracles, Irvingite gifts (cf. review of The Life of Edward Irving), faith-healing, and mind cure.
Warfield’s basic argument is that with the passing of the apostles and those on whom the apostles laid their hands the charismata subsided in history. He believes that the purpose of the miraculous gifts was to confirm the truthfulness of the apostles’ gospel. Once the apostolic message was written the the miracles ceased.
Or as Warfield notes with approval, “It is unreasonable to ask miracles, says John Calvin—or to find them—where there is no new gospel. By as much as the one gospel suffices for all lands and all peoples and all times, by so much does the miraculous attestation of that one single gospel suffice for all lands and all times, and no further miracles are to be expected in connection with it” (27).
Warfield then delves into history to show that this position is supported by the data. And then reviews the claimed miracles of his day, including some cults and quacks.
He also makes the important point from Deut 13:2 that the inexplicable cannot be called a miracle of God if it somehow invalidates the revealed truth of the Bible or reason within the confines of revelation (53, 122-123):
It is at least very commonly supposed that we are bound to examine carefully into the pretensions of any alleged miracle produced in support of any propositions whatever, however intrinsically absurd; and, if these alleged miracles cannot be at once decisively invalidated, we are bound to accept as true the proposition in support of which they are alleged. No proposition clearly perceived to be false, however, can possibly be validated to us by any miracle whatever; and the perception of the proposition as clearly false relieves us at once from the duty of examining into the miraculous character of its alleged support and invalidates any claim which that support can put in to miraculous character—prior to all investigation. (53)
Benefits/Detriments
A helpful overview of the historical data. For most intents and purposes I accept Warfield’s assessment as correct. Rhetorically, however Warfield’s argument doesn’t carry a lot of punch because it’s based on the intended purpose of the gifts rather than direct scriptural testimony as to the cessation of the charismata. The argument is not directly scriptural in the sense that there is no verse stating with the passing of the last person on whom the apostles laid hands the miraculous gifts will cease, but it is biblical if Warfield has correctly identified the purpose of charismata—to directly validate the apostolic message to the first generation of Christians.
The second weakness is definitional; he makes a careful distinction between special providences and miracles (162), but he doesn’t explain the difference or define them systematically. From the context he seems to define miracle as something that does not use physical means and which confirms God’s revelation, and special providence seems to be defined as events orchestrated by God in response to prayer yet using physical means. If I’ve understood these definitions aright, this leads to the possibility that the crossing of the Red Sea was not a miracle but a special providence, because the natural cause was a blowing wind (Exod. 14:21).
The final issue is that it is not clear to me from Warfield’s review of Christian history that we can discount the occasional miracle. Occasional miracles would not validate the unscriptural claims to charismata in the modern church, but would allow for some events to be miraculous rather than merely providential.
D. A. Carson, The Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor: The Life and Reflections of Tom Carson
One of the most brilliant-evangelical theologians in the United States writes of the life and efforts of his father, Tom Carson. Tom Carson for about fifteen years (1948-1963) struggled to pastor a small English speaking Baptist church while simultaneously working as a missionary to the French speaking population of Quebec….
Crossway, 2008, 160 pgs, $15.99.
Summary: One of the most brilliant-evangelical theologians in the United States writes of the life and efforts of his father, Tom Carson. Tom Carson for about fifteen years (1948-1963) struggled to pastor a small English speaking Baptist church while simultaneously working as a missionary to the French speaking population of Quebec. He then became a civil servant, but remained in French speaking Quebec to continue serving as a lay pastor. After mandatory retirement from the civil service, he again returned to fulltime ministry until his wife’s battle with Alzheimer’s.
Tom Carson and the other pioneer Baptist missionaries to French speaking and Catholic Canada laid the groundwork for the revival of the 1970s. By God’s grace Pastor Carson was able to participate in those momentous events from the early work of the ‘40s to the late ‘80s. Pastor Carson’s godliness, sobriety and industry are exemplary, and his son does not hide his weakness, confusion, and sin. I would be greatly blessed to live, preach, and die as Tom Carson did.
Benefits/Determents:
There are a very few false notes in the book, and I was edified, deeply moved, sobered, challenged, and encouraged by it. Highly recommended for all, but especially pastors.
Charles Williams, The Image of the City and Other Essays; War in Heaven
The philosophical, theological, and poetic musings of a moderately brilliant poet who wrote histories, popular journal articles, fiction novels (War in Heaven), and gave lectures to the developing middle class on art and culture to pay the bills….
The Image of the City and Other Essays, Reprint: The Aporcyphile Press, 2007; Oxford University Press, 1958, 199 pgs.
War in Heaven, William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1982, 256 pgs.
Summary: The philosophical, theological, and poetic musings of a moderately brilliant poet who wrote histories, popular journal articles, fiction novels (War in Heaven), and gave lectures to the developing middle class on art and culture to pay the bills. Williams apparently wandered in and then out of genteel British occult (The Image, xxiii) practice and decided to stick with an eccentric but mostly orthodox Anglicanism. He was a member of the Inklings.
As a poet his imagery is more powerful than his ability for the nuanced logic necessary for theological and philosophical reflection. The reader gets the feeling that the argument is more the mental aroma, or perhaps the colors in the shades of the word pictures. Williams might be right in the end, but the difference between the smell of burnt banana peels and dirty socks is too fine a distinction for most readers to live by or to organize a church around.
His theology is framed by creedal orthodoxy, but he brings interesting quirks to bear; he’s radically neo-Platonic and a hyper-something. I’d like to say he’s hyper-Calvinist, but that would be unfair to Calvin and Duns Scotus (The Image, 76) and Julian of Norwich (War, 239). Perhaps, it would be best to say that he’s neo-Platonic with a heady stream of mysticism as channeled through polite English literary society by a fellow who got schorched playing with “white magic.”
My sense is that he believes the Platonic form of man is the Son of God incarnate. (Apparently, Duns Scotus taught this or something like it.) Thus even fallen man draws his formal existence from the Son incarnate in a way similar to Plato’s scheme. To will in conformity with one’s formal nature is to unify the self with Christ and to act against the form is to move away from unity. All humanity is to a greater or lesser degree in Christ, based on their agreement with the form. Those that are traveling towards unity with Christ can then “share each other burdens” (Gal. 6:2) in a literal sense just as “He took our illnesses and bore our diseases” (Matt. 8:17), because they are participating in the unity of the Son of God form. Because the Son of God incarnate was in the mind of God prior to the Fall as the form of Adam or perhaps the Son was incarnate prior to the Fall in history, the essence of physical and spiritual man is drawn from the Son.
Williams’ ideas leads to all sorts of interesting theological shards, but the reader is never told what will be created if all these pieces were assembled into a coherent system rather than word pictures and protestations that the glittering fragment fits into orthodoxy. It’s not clear to me that his theology is coherent or if made coherent would be orthodox.
Exemplar quotes:
“The name of the City is Union: the operation of the Infamy is by outrage on that union. The process of that union is by the method of free exchange. The methods of that exchange range from childbirth to the Eucharist—the two primal activities of the earth and the Church. There is, in the first case, a mutual willingness between the father and mother which results in the transference of seed. That it is so common does not lessen the trust implied; that one should abandon his seed to another, that one should receive the seed of another, is an exhibition of trust; it is almost the chief natural exhibition of that supernatural quality known as ‘faith’. . .” (The Image, 102).
“The Mother of God was not an apostle, yet the apostles were—only apostles. Do you suppose she and they wrangled over equality?” (Ibid., 129).
“‘But,’ [the Satanist] said doubtfully, ‘had Judas himself no delight? There is an old story that there is rapture in the worship of treachery and malice and cruelty and sin.’ ‘Pooh,’ Lionel said contemptuously; ‘it is the ordinary religion disguised; it is the church-going clerk’s religion. Satanism is the clerk at the brothel. Audacious little middle-class cock-sparrow.’” (War, 168).
Benefits/Detriments: An incredibly helpful resource for understanding Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew and the space trilogy. Likely, a good source for pastors to grapple with the experience of those coming out of the occult, as long as the pastor has read and understood the esoteric teaching of C. S. Lewis’s fiction canon. But if a little wine is good for the stomach, Williams is literary whiskey. Physical, spiritual, and mental sobriety is commanded by Scripture (1 Thes. 5:5-8). There is much good to take from Williams, but much that might mislead, confuse and drunken, and I suspect he’s more tipsy then exuberant.
Michael P. V. Barrett, Beginning at Moses: A Guide to Finding Christ in the Old Testament
A solid, scholarly, and conservative introduction to interpreting the Old Testament from a Christocentric perspective:
Ambassador Internal, Greenville, 2001.
Summary: A solid, scholarly, and conservative introduction to interpreting the Old Testament from a Christocentric perspective:
From Final Thoughts: “My contention is that there is a relevant message in the Old Testament that is discernible and discoverable by sound and sensible methods of interpretation that consider the full, not just the surface, meaning of the text. Although not in every line and perhaps not on every page, the message of Christ overshadows the entire Old Testament. Finding Christ is the key that both unlocks and locks in the message of the whole Word of God. Jesus Christ is God’s final, perfect, incomparable Word. In the final analysis, it is safe to say that Jesus is God’s only Word for man” (327).
Benefits/Detriments: The book should serve two purposes: it is an incredibly helpful model for those with an academic bent on how to introduce others to finding Christ in the Old Testament: and the book is a solid introduction to the interpretive framework necessary to rightly divide the word of truth.
It is not an academic book in the sense that there is no bibliography or footnotes. It is scholarly, in that the author is obviously aware of the current academic debates and questions, but the book is intended for a thoughtful and conservative layman. I highly recommend it.
Richard Bauckham, The Bible in Politics: How to Read the Bible Politically
A thoughtful establishment of a hermeneutical process for developing biblical application of the Bible to modern politics and ethics.
Louisville, Westminster/John Knox Press, 1989.
Summary: A thoughtful establishment of a hermeneutical process for developing biblical application of the Bible to modern politics and ethics.
The process looks like this:
Identify what the text meant to the initial audience.
Determine the differences between the initial audience and believers today.
Develop universal principles from the text.
Correlate the principle with New Testament teaching.
Apply the modified universal principle to life today.
(The process summary is drawn from Tidball, The Message of Leviticus, 29).
Bauckham exhibits the outcome of this system in meditations on, Leviticus 19, Proverbs 31:1-9, Psalm 10 and 126, Jesus on taxes (Matt. 17, Mark 11-12), Exodus Revelation 18, the Book of Esther, and the Genesis Flood.
The risen Jesus is our future. He beckons us forward to the goal of creation and gives all Christian activity the character of hopeful movement into the future which God has promised. Not that we ourselves can achieve that future. Resurrection makes that clear: we who ourselves end in death cannot achieve the new creation out of death. The Kingdom in its final glory lies beyond the reach of our history, in the hand of the God who interrupted our history by raising Jesus from death. This transcendence of the Kingdom beyond our achievement must be remembered. But in Jesus God has given us the Kingdom not only as hope for the final future but also to anticipate in the present. As the vision of God’s perfect will for his creation it is the inspiration of all Christian efforts to change the world for the better. In relation to our political activity, it is a double-edged sword, cutting through both our pretensions and our excuses. On the one hand, as the goal we do not reach, it passes judgment on all our political projects and achievements, forbids us the dangerous utopian illusions of having paradise within our grasp, keeps us human, realistic, humble and dissatisfied. On the other hand, as the goal we anticipate, it lures us on beyond all our political achievements, forbids us disillusioned resignation to the status quo, keeps us dissatisfied, hopeful, imaginative, and open to new possibilities (150).
Benefits: Politics is a subcategory of the wider study of ethics, and thus Bauckham’s work is useful for all of ethics. He engagingly challenges his readers to read the Bible carefully, think rigorously, and apply the Bible wisely to politics, for the purpose of worshiping God. I know of no better example of how to do this well.
Detriments: Interpreting the Bible is dependent on the hermeneutical process and the belief policies of the reader. For example, the reader who comes to the text rejecting the possibility of divine revelation will make little effort to harmonize the different human authors’ perspectives or grant the Bible any authority outside of its agreement with “nature.”
In the case of Bauckham, he has a high view of man’s sin against man, but a low view of man’s rebellion against God. He has a lowish view of Scripture, which we might summarize with “inspired, but. . .”, and he’s got an egalitarian streak. Because ethics is the application of God’s Word to man, Bauckham’s anthropology and his understanding of God (theology proper) influences his interpretation and application of the text.
Here’s a example where his theological presuppositions are exposed: “On the contrary, [Jesus’] loving concern reached all the people around him as he hung dying, his fellow victims on the crosses beside him, his mother in her grief, even his executioners, for whom he prayed forgiveness” (148).
The problem with this statement is the criminals on the crosses with Christ were not victims (cf. Luke 23:40-41) in the same sense that Christ was. The thief that was saved admitted both his guilt and the justice of the sentence. Bauckham’s first premises of interpretation require a degree of egalitarianism that is rejected by the Bible. And a consistent application of Jesus’ identifying “himself unequivocally and finally with the victims” (148) will lead to unmitigated theological and political disaster.
Yet, I highly recommend this book because Bauckham’s egalitarian and anthropocentric tendencies are often corrected by how carefully and intelligently he handles the text and an apparent love for Christ and humanity. When the text overrules his bad theology, he’s brilliant and incredibly edifying, but he can mislead the perplexed by promoting anthropocentric and egalitarian applications and theology.