Early Christian Papyrus Fragment and what it (doesn’t) mean for you

So yesterday, I stumbled upon/(was bombarded by) the news that an early Christian script, probably from the fourth century, had been discovered that indicated Jesus was married.

My first thought was “…and?” For whatever reason this gathered a lot of attention from the media. Now, the fourth century is quite early, but we have more complete documents fro the second and third centuries that make no mention of Jesus’ wife. It seems that this is the earliest instance of a writer saying that Jesus Christ was married, but it dates to the same time when writings emerged saying that Jesus definitely was not married. Here are a few thoughts.

1) No one is saying this does mean Jesus was married. In fact this type of language (of Jesus having a wife, possibly Mary Magdalene) is fairly common of the Gnostic writers whom we know were active during this time. Gnosticism is a group of people who, for time, claimed to be Christian, but were actually a rather odd group of Neo-Platonists whose theology had more in common with pre-existent paganism mixed with Plato than Christianity whose roots were in the monotheism of Judaism. So in that respect, it shouldn’t be that surprising to find this coptic (indicating it was from the part of Egypt where the Gnostics seem to have been most active) fragment.

2) If Jesus was, in fact, married (which I don’t think seems to be likely), what difference would that make? The only possible difference, it seems, would be that Roman Catholic priests would not be required to be celibate. That’s it. There is no indication that this would change anything else about anything. This means, incidentally, that as far as Protestant (and some Eastern Orthodox) churches are concerned, nothing would be different. Marriage is neither dirty nor sinful for Christians (in fact it’s a really good thing) What’s the big deal?
I will say, the end of the CNN article (linked above) seemed to summarize it best when quoting scholar Tom Reese: “This is a nice academic footnote, but beyond that, it is not going to be all that important.”

What do you think? Is this earth shattering? Did I miss something?

Update:

Well, since this has come out a number of other sources have covered (including the NY Times, which ran it on some of its front pages yesterday). As one of the commentors below noted (Beth), some scholars, including Darrell Bock, suggest this might be metaphorical language for the Church, a notion even King (the lead researcher on this fragment) suggests might be possible.
The text does not specifically link Mary Magdalene as Jesus’ wife, though on Mary (likely Jesus’ mother) is mentioned in the legible text. So this is possible.

However, the detailed research done by Tyndale House seems to indicate this is almost certainly a Gnostic document. The fact that it originated in Egypt and was written in Coptic** (not the standard Hellenistic Greek) and dates from the 300s are all indicators of Gnostic origin. The fact that the fragment, in the sections that are legible, seem to reflect the same language as other well-known Gnostic manuscripts, as the researchers at Tyndale House have noted, make it likely that it is Gnostic. If it is Gnostic, then it is also likely that it would be claiming a marital relationship between Jesus and Mary Magdalene, since that is a favourite claim of certain branches of Gnosticism.

For the record, while I acknowledge that Jesus’ did state the Church was his bride, and while I also believe he was not married, I do not think that the first claim (nor claims about his divinity) are made in any way problematic were it to actually be the case that he was married. Maybe that makes me odd, but I don’t think it should. One is an eternal relationship, the other would be merely an earthly one. It would not be until the resurrection, which being an eschatological event would be without the former marital relationships on earth, that he calls the Church his bride. Still, I understand that this might be a hard pill for others to swallow. Regardless, I don’t think that Jesus was actually married (such a revelation now would be incredibly odd considering the complete lack of mention of it beforehand), nor do I think it even can be demonstrated that he was. So that may simply be a moot point. Thanks for the dialogue below, keep it up.

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What is the Christian response to the unrest around the world concerning Americans?

I’m not offering any answers today, only questions. As an American living in a city where a massive protest against the US has recently taken place, where similar protests have turned violent in the Middle East, I am certainly concerned. I’m also greatly saddened by the loss of an American ambassador who believed the country where he served had great promise. I am also saddened by all those injured or killed in these attacks.

On the other end, I am a bit confused and troubled by the calls from many of my citizens for war, or for the US to exert more military might. Haven’t we been in a war we regretted getting into? Who would we declare war on? The mob? What about those people who were not engaged in the violence, or who condemned it? Should they, by virtue of their citizenship, be equally condemned?

I am saddened and troubled and curious as to what you think. Should the US increase its military presence? Should it treat hostile actions with equal hostility? I don’t personally like to get to political (so you can bet I have another question). My real question is, what is the Christian response? Should we pray for those who persecute us and continue to do good to them? What if they aren’t persecuting us for our faith, but our nationality? Should Christians advocate violent action? Is inaction preferable? Again, I don’t have any easy answers, and I’m a little wary of those who do offer easy answers. These are hard questions. These are things with which I grapple. What I want to know is what you think, and more importantly, why.

God with Us: On the 11 Anniversary of the Attack on the US World Trade Center

I remember where I was when I first heard the news in 2001. I was in college at the time and got up for my eight o’clock class without having read the news or anything like that. It was Ministry Leadership Development with Professor Tom Wilks. I was told we were “doing something different” by another student and meeting in Stubblefield Chapel at Oklahoma Baptist University. It was then we were informed that a plane had struck one of the twin towers. Unbeknown to us, at the time we were being told this another plane was striking the other tower. I sat in disbelief. We were given our own time to process and pray as we needed.

Stubblefield Chapel is an old building. It was the building in which the Baptist Convention of Oklahoma was formed, having been moved to the campus of OBU later. It was small with worn wooden floors and old wooden pews, the latter of which where painted with a white trim. It had an old out of tune piano and a small pipe organ. The windows were beautiful, but simple. Every shifting of bodies and entrance and exit caused the creak of wood against wood. Yet despite what might have been a noisy building, it drowned out the sound of the campus outside.

I sat astounded, praying to God that it was somehow not that serious, or some sort of sick prank. It was, of course, all too real. When faced with something like this, it makes the problem of profound evil in the world that much more troubling. Although it is true that there are more catastrophic things in the world compound the problem, the fact that it happened on US soil “brought it home” in a sense. It was no longer an abstract concept, but something that I was made to genuinely struggle with as a freshman in college. I would, over the next decade, see evidence of other such difficulties, but this was the first and it was domestic.

As I thought about the events of that day, and wondered how a good God could allow not just this, but similar things to happen, I
kept coming back to the cross, formed from the rubble that has taken on a hugely symbolic role in the of the attacks. It had become a symbol of hope, one that people latched onto. Why had this particular thing taken on such a significance? Was it that this was a miraculous event in and of itself? Well, that’s possible, but I believe it was something else. Something Deeper. Was it that we needed to know and be reminded that God was with us? Certainly that is at work, but is that all of it? Is there something different going on here? In particular, why is it that Christians have latched on to the symbol of the cross, the thing that signifies the horrendous suffering and death of Christ?

The technical term for giving an account of how there can be a good God, particularly in the face of suffering, is called a theodicy. Typically such accounts speak of how there is some greater good accomplished either directly by causing the action or, more frequently, indirectly by allowing the action to take place. Usually this greater good is taken to be free will. Human freedom is so great that God will not override it. While that may be an intellectually satisfying response, and one that certainly appeals to our reason, it is not one that helps us fully when we are confronted with the all too often personal nature of horrific violence. It may help our minds, and allow us to hold to our beliefs when confronted with opposition, but it fails to remove the sting, or the emotional pain, or the wounds to our soul that such evils produce. Not only this, but if we are honest, the more we connect with other people the more we begin to realize that a sin against one of us, is a sin against all of us, because we are all made in the image of God; and by that fact alone God is grieved, and those closest to God similarly grieved, by wicked actions. It is at this point that I am genuinely struck by the wonderful horror that is the cross of Christ, which has been symbolized in various ways, and to which many, though admittedly not all, of the surviving victims of the attack on the World Trade Center cling.

I can’t remember where I first heard this particular theodicy, but it certainly seems to ring true. When confronted with horrendous evil, although we might be able to offer a rational argument for its existence while still holding to a good God, such arguments are not always the best course of action. Instead, we often do better to remember that the concept of horrific and profound human suffering is not something on the periphery of the Christian faith to be entirely explained away. Instead it is at the center and heart of our faith. It is the suffering of Christ on the cross that makes the Resurrection and our salvation possible. At its heart, suffering and tragedy is not something alien to God, but something at the core of God’s being.

One of the central arguments in the book of Hebrews, is that in Christ, God has identified with us at the very lowest point. He has experienced every temptation, was subject to every failing, and thus truly knows what it means to be human, having died the most painful and humiliating death the world has ever known. Even if it is the case that the recognition of a cross from the rubble of the twin towers was not a miraculous event, but something that we should almost expect to be found, this does not diminish the impact of it. The point of focus is upon the historical act of the crucifixion of God. Because of the profound nature of that action, those who have come close to God via Christ have clung to the symbol of the cross because it is the recognition that God has been where we are, and worse. We are not alone in our suffering, because God is with us. We have a great high priest who can sympathize with our suffering because he was there, he suffered.

In the Hebrew bible, the name for God given in Exodus is related etymologically to the Hebrew word for being. So when Moses receives the name, God is saying “I am that I am.” However, in this instance our English bibles seem unable to communicate something (without giving a lengthy commentary). Moses, when expressing his fears and apprehensions about the road ahead, is asking for some sign that will give him confidence to move forward. If you look at the other verbs, and how they are translated, you can notice that the other times the Hebrew word appears in that context it is translated “I will (or I will be).” This is, in part, because Hebrew tenses don’t work the same way that English tenses do. This is also why many bibles include a footnote with the alternate translation “I will be that I will be.” In the context of Moses’ fear, when he is wondering, “When I stand before Pharaoh” how will I be able to do it, God responds that at that time Moses will not be alone. Instead, God will be with him. God’s response to suffering, one of the greatest problems of the world, is not that we are left alone, but it is instead that God is with us. “I am that I am” that I am with you, God seems to be saying. So central is this that, in the midst of a siege against Jerusalem, God’s promise of comfort is “Emmanuel” God is with us. And when we needed Him most, God’s ultimate response was, and remains to this day, that God remains Emmanuel, and was fully present with Jesus. Through the crucifixion and everything else he knows our struggles. And through the resurrection and ascension God has sent the presence of the Holy Spirit, giving the one who accepts it the full presence of God in the midst of, and counter to, the suffering of this world. On this day as we remember the suffering of many, remember that we are not alone in our struggle, but (as the name Israel implies) God struggles with us, helping us, and ultimately giving us the fullness of the LORD’s presence.

Question: Where were you when you heard the news? Has it continued to impact you? What does it mean to you to know that God is with us, especially in our darkest moments?

A Good Response to Massive Loss

I want to take a break from the Olympic mini-series I’ve been doing to talk about an old friend of mine, and possibly raise some awareness, and hopefully help him and his family out.

A friend of mine from back in my college days has recently met with disaster. We knew each other primarily through being in the same men’s chorus (the Bison Glee Club of Oklahoma Baptist University), which ended up functioning as a close knit brotherhood (that tends to happen when you tour around on a bus during spring break, several weekends, spend hours rehearsing for shows etc, and have an amazing yearly retreat). At any rate, he, along with his wife and two kids, live in Oklahoma. His name is Tony Cobb and he’s a youth minister in Edmond. If you live in the US, or you follow the news there, you may have heard about the devastating wildfires sweeping throughout large parts of the US, likely as a result of the record heat levels coupled with the already dry and flat landscape (making it easier for the the fires to spread).

When I lived in Edmond, I saw the wild fires that year (since this sort of thing happens somewhat frequently) get uncomfortably close to our apartment at the time, and I knew a few people who had close calls with their own property. Still, I never really knew anyone who lost everything in such an event so randomly and indiscriminately destructive as these wildfires. I can no longer say that. The Cobb family barely made it out of their home with each other. They have lost virtually everything.

Yet throughout this event, they have been a picture of the proper Christian response to these events. You can read about the attitude they have taken to this event in part on his wife’s (Rachel’s) blog here. They are a model to keep in mind in the face of adversity and have served to remind us that though it is tragic to lose things, particularly the personal and irreplaceable things, all is well in God’s hands. God is not the author of our tragedy, but he is nevertheless sovereign in the midst of it. I ask that you pray for the Cobb family, especially during this difficult time.

Finally, and the real reason I wrote this blog, someone has set up an indiegogo website to act as a donation for the Cobb family. While there are some things that can’t be replaced, there are nevertheless many basic needs that must be replaced (things like beds and basic furniture). Although not many read my blog, I do know that most of those who do probably don’t know the Cobbs. So if you’ve watched what has happened in Oklahoma (or other areas) and wanted to help, but didn’t know how, here is one way to do so. Go to the site below and donate money to help the Cobbs replace some of what was lost. If you don’t have any money to donate, spread the word (the website) to others who might. You can be the body of Christ to those who need it:

Blessings for Tony and Rachel Cobb (Indiegogo donation site)

Their Church’s webpage

A Torch Relay contrasted to a Triumphant Spectacle

So yesterday the torch relay came through our neighborhood on its way to the Olympic stadium to mark the start of the London 2012 games. There was a great buzz of excitement all throughout our neighborhood, as I’m sure there was in every neighborhood through which the torch passed. Essentially, the relay is an extended one person parade as people line the streets to see the procession of the torch as it makes its way to the main show at the stadium here in Stratford (East London). Different people carry the torch as it is passed from one person to another, and there is an excitement surrounding it. These torch bearers are all local or nati0nal heroes, generally selected for outstanding service to the community of the country. It is a unique and interesting, and genuinely exciting, thing to witness.

For some reason, however, the torch relay got me thinking about something else. There’s this theme used in Corinthianian correspondence of a parade. There, it is referring to the “triumphal procession.” It’s not really that related to the Ancient Olympics, despite the fact that Corinth had an early parallel in the Isthmian Games (named for the isthmus that Corinth straddles), but is a very Roman parade. In the parade, a general who had recently conquered new territory for the Roman Empire, was given a huge honor. As part of this honor, he would get to lead a lengthy parade through various parts of the empire. The general would lead the parade, coming as a national hero, followed by his officers and generals and new captives in the back. They would wind their way through most of the major cities finally ending in Rome, the capital, where a fire was lit and they were given an honor by the emperor.

Throughout each of these cities, however, and including up until Rome the general would hold a long chain in his hand. The chain would stretch back throughout the parade, past the officers, and cavalry, and foot soldiers, past most of the captives to the very back. There, at the tail end of the procession, was the conquered leader or king, being led like a dog. Rather than a king, he was a prisoner. At the end of the lengthy procession, once the fires were lit, he along with some of the captives, would be sacrificed

A relief of captives being led by a collar in ancient Rome, via Wikicommons

for the glory of the kingdom (Rome in this instance). The entire process was meant to humiliate the conquered king, who was essentially a walking dead man, and bring honor to the one leading the triumphal procession. With that in mind, let’s look at these two passages, first from 2 Corinthians 2:14-16 (NIV),

But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are an aroma that brings death; to the other, an aroma that brings life. And who is equal to such a task?

and then from 1 Corinthians 4:9 (NIV).

For it seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like those condemned to die in the arena. We have been made a spectacle to the whole universe, to angels as well as to human beings.

What is striking is that even though Jesus and God is the triumphant general leading the march, Paul does not consider himself to be among the officers, but among the king who must be killed. There is a real recognition that my own achievements are, as Paul says, rubbish (well that’s the clean translation of Philippians 3:8). He has truly died to himself and his old self is a walking dead man. He mixes his metaphors a bit to talk about the “aroma.” In the triumphal procession, as the captive king approached the stadium, he would begin to smell the fires burning and to him it would be an aroma of death. To the officers and generals, however, it was an aroma of life. For Paul he sees that for his old self it is the aroma of death, but for his new self that is Christ living through him and transforming his very being, it is an aroma of life. At the root though, rather than an honor before people, he sees his service to Christ as a his own humiliation before the entire universe. I’m not saying we shouldn’t give some sort of honor to those who clearly benefit our communities and the world around us, of course we should. I am saying, however, that the Christian should work with no thought for an immediate reward, but only to bring glory to Christ, even if it means humiliation. In contrast to a parade celebrating the honor of human achievement (even if it is for genuinely good work), Paul sees his work as only bringing honor to Christ. So the question, one that we all struggle with, is for whose honor or glory are you working?

A Conversation with a Calvinist Friend

The post before last was about “A Statement of the Traditional Southern Baptist Understanding of God’s Plan of Salvation,” which was a response by several non-Calvinist, prominent SBC leaders to what they saw as the growth of what they labeled “New Calvinism.” The “new Calvinism” is understood by the authors of the “statement” to be a more subversive form of Calvinism that seeks to, somewhat secretly, change the traditional identity of many SBC churches through non-traditional (and ethically questionable) methods, including preying on the lack of theological education of many lay persons. The statement, it seemed to me, was a way to give language to the view that many already held, but lacked the training to properly express or defend.

While I acknowledged that the statement was not worded the best it could have been, nor was the timing of its release ideal, I nevertheless was largely in agreement with it. The statement caused a bit of a flutter on the internet, as I described in that post, which included accusations that it was semi-Pelagian. I maintained that either it was not semi-Pelagian, if they meant the heresy condemned in 529, or if it was semi-Pelagian, it was so only in the sense of less than full Augustinian (and thus still not fitting with the heresy condemned in 529).

By and large the controversy seems to have died down a little bit, though likely will reprise itself again. Away from the rhetorical attacks, and the self-affirming words present in some areas, I do think that some useful dialogue may have come out of it. Contrary to what some may have inferred, I don’t hold anything against my Calvinist brethren. I even hold out the possibility that they may be right; I don’t think that is very likely, but it would be too arrogant of me to assume that I know, beyond all doubt, that one group is right or another is absolutely wrong, especially given the positive impact they have made historically. These things should be approached with humility, openness, and clarity. In that vein, at least I hope in that vein, I’d like to post below a conversation I had on the blog of one of the first persons to suggest that the “Statement” might be semi-Pelagian, Chris Roberts. Christ and I went to seminary (or more correctly “Divinity School”) together and are friends. I think he does some really great stuff over at his blog “Seek the Holy” (yes it is rather Calvinist in most of the posts, but still a good blog) and has been a model for how a Calvinist should act, both with regard to purpose/mission and openness, in the SBC, which is still overwhelmingly not Calvinist. At any rate, if you want the conversation in its raw form, click here to visit that page. Otherwise, I’ve cleaned up a version below (just for clarity sake) and reformatted it to read more like a dialogue. I think it has brought some good clarity. I’ll start it by reprinting the post he had, and then having the written conversation.

The Original Post

Monergism recently posted a link to an article by R. C. Sproul titled The Pelagian Captivity of the Church. Read his description of semi-Pelagianism:

Now what is called semi-Pelagianism, as the prefix “semi” suggests, was a somewhat middle ground between full-orbed Augustinianism and full-orbed Pelagianism. Semi-Pelagianism said this: yes, there was a fall; yes, there is such a thing as original sin; yes, the constituent nature of humanity has been changed by this state of corruption and all parts of our humanity have been significantly weakened by the fall, so much so that without the assistance of divine grace nobody can possibly be redeemed, so that grace is not only helpful but it’s absolutely necessary for salvation. While we are so fallen that we can’t be saved without grace, we are not so fallen that we don’t have the ability to accept or reject the grace when it’s offered to us. The will is weakened but is not enslaved. There remains in the core of our being an island of righteousness that remains untouched by the fall. It’s out of that little island of righteousness, that little parcel of goodness that is still intact in the soul or in the will that is the determinative difference between heaven and hell. It’s that little island that must be exercised when God does his thousand steps of reaching out to us, but in the final analysis it’s that one step that we take that determines whether we go to heaven or hell — whether we exercise that little righteousness that is in the core of our being or whether we don’t. That little island Augustine wouldn’t even recognize as an atoll in the South Pacific. He said it’s a mythical island, that the will is enslaved, and that man is dead in his sin and trespasses.

Dialogue

Trey: [While, I don’t know that semi-Pelagian is a fair term for a view that is just not Augustinian, we’ll use it] We don’t think there is an island of righteousness. Rather, part of the image of God is the ability to causally affect the world, to make volitional decisions that have future impact, i.e. to be genuinely free to choose something. This weakened, as opposed to “enslaved,” will is not a measure of righteousness, but is a morally neutral faculty of our humanity (like the sense of smell, or the ability to reason mathematically). We can’t necessarily see the full impact of our decisions, or the merit they may or may not achieve and when it comes to moral decisions, we always choose wrongly and that is the result of Original Sin.

The salvation offered is not a moral decision, though. It is akin to a drowning man surrendering his struggle so that he may be saved. On that account, it’s not even necessarily that we choose anything. Rather, it’s that we accept our inability to choose and simply stop actively refusing/resisting. On this account grace is something that is resistible, but not something that may be chosen. That seems to fit well with how I understand Scripture, has never been condemned as heresy, and I am fairly certain is what most of the signers of this statement would agree with. God still does all of the saving.

Going back to the drowning man scenario, it may be a question of whether the drowning victim willingly stops trying to save himself/stops struggling (the position of the “statement”) or whether the life-saver incapacitates the drowning man before dragging him to shore (a more calvinist sense). In neither case can the newly saved man claim any credit at all, it all goes to the one who actually saved his life. It’s an imperfect analogy, but might be more helpful than Sproul’s misunderstanding of the position of most of us who are neither Calvinist nor Arminian (there is no “island of righteousness” from which to act, we are vicious to the core until God transforms that core).

Chris: [When you say] “This weakened, as opposed to ‘enslaved,’ will is not a measure of righteousness, but is a morally neutral faculty of our being human (like the sense of smell, or the ability to reason mathematically),” [I see a problem].

On the one hand, what Sproul refers to as an island of righteousness is not so much righteousness based on prior merit, but a capacity for doing righteous. It is good and righteous for people to repent of sins and confess the name of Jesus. If I am able to do this of myself, then I retain the ability to do a righteous act.

As for a morally neutral faculty, I’d be even more concerned with that phrase as it is much closer to full Pelagianism. You clarify yourself some when you say, “When it comes to moral decisions, we always choose wrongly and that is the result of Original Sin.” but then I would want to ask, in what sense is the will morally neutral if original sin always leads us to choose wrongly?

When you say that salvation is not a moral decision, I think we need to clarify what is required of us in salvation. More is required of us than simple surrender. It does require a work of the will to turn from sin and turn to the righteousness of Christ, confessing our sin and embracing by faith the work of Jesus and the glory of God. Doing this is good, and doing this is impossible for fallen man.

[Also your claim that] “we accept our inability to choose and simply stop actively refusing/resisting” [as distinct from freely choosing to accept Grace in your human capacity] isn’t a valid distinction. We cannot say accepting our inability is something different than making a choice. How do I accept my inability unless I choose to accept my inability? A work of the will is still required. If I accept my need for Christ because of my inability, then I have chosen to yield myself to Christ.

[You conclude by saying] “it may be a question of whether the drowning victim willingly stops trying to save himself/stops struggling (the position of the “statement”) or whether the life-saver incapacitates the drowning man before dragging him to shore (a more calvinist sense).”

The first position still requires a choice, as I’ve already noted. To willingly stop trying to save myself is to choose to stop trying to save myself. It is a work of the will, a work that requires recognizing that I need saving, a work of the will that fallen humanity can never perform.

As for the Calvinist position, the drowning man does not need to be incapacitated before being saved because he is no longer a drowning man: he has already drowned, he is already dead, he is already incapacitated. To be rescued he must be brought back to life.

[As a sidenote,] one thing that came to mind a few times as I read your comment is that some of the things you say sound like pietist beliefs such as found in the Keswick movement – surrender, yield, let-go-and-let-God type of approach to salvation and sanctification. Would this be correct?

 

Trey: [First to address your sidenote], it’s difficult to argue that Keswick has not had influence among baptists, particularly given its connection to R.A. Torrey, D. L. Moody and Billy Graham. How much of it I’ve imbibed? Well I haven’t actually studied to movement enough to know exactly how much of it has influenced me or not. It’s likely, given what I have read, it has influenced me greatly. I would add as a caveat that I believe John Stott spoke at one of the Keswick conventions at some point and it really seems to be much broader than Calvinist or non-Calvinist in its theology.

[Now moving on to the substance of your response, let me clarify.] I’m saying it is not possible, on your own, to repent of sins and confess Jesus. Such a step is only available after initial surrender. This is the key distinction, Calvinism preaches an irresistible Grace that overwhelms and accomplishes its goal for the predestined elect. What I am talking about is a resistible Grace that, once it is no longer resisted, functions the same way as the Calvinist understanding of Grace. I think the key distinction between the position being described by Sproul and my own is that Sproul seems to think that I actively choose this grace. That is not the case. Like the Calvinist, I hold that it is God who has chosen me and sent his grace to me.

The only “choice” is whether to exercise the will, and thus be unable to choose it because by that active action we are working against what Grace fundamentally is, or whether to recognize the futility of our own ability surrender the will over to God.

I do think I make a valid distinction between stopping to exercise the will and actively engaging the will to choose grace. It’s a difference between active and passive. The Arminian perspective accepts the active role of choosing God’s grace and thus, in order to avoid semi-pelagianism, must add in the extra step of “prevenient grace,” a concept I would maintain is completely alien to Scripture and smacks more of a holdover from medieval Roman Catholic understandings of Baptism than the Protestant idea of Grace.

Sproul’s perspective seems to assume that their can be no passive function of the will as distinct from the active function of the will. So Sproul denies both, while the Arminian accepts only the active function of the will after prevenient grace. The key difference is whether there can conceivably be a distinction made between an active and passive will.

In both my perspective and the Calvinist one, God chooses you first and last, and you don’t choose. Yes, I would accept that we are dead, in a sense, but also alive in a sense, though only alive in our death. The reason I chose the drowning man analogy, however, is this: when a man who was drowning is rescued, do any of his actions deserve merit? It doesn’t matter if he was knocked unconscious (the Calvinist view) or merely gave up struggling (my view), once the rescue has been accomplished no one looks back and says he did anything to contribute to that rescue. He didn’t. His was a passive role and if he had taken an active role he either would have saved himself, or he would have only hastened his own demise. Thus, in my view, if you are saved it is entirely God’s doing, if you are damned, it is entirely your own fault. The Calvinist perspective, however, can only (logically) accept a double predestination view. If you are saved or damned, it is because God saved or damned you. If that is not the case, either it is not Calvinist or else it declares God somehow impotent to save others.

Chris: But am I hearing you right that in your perspective, what begins the process of surrender is still something that originates in you? I will not be saved unless and until I surrender, etc., and if I never surrender, I will never be saved.

As for the merit to the drowning man, he doesn’t deserve merit for being saved, but it remains the case that he was at least partially for his rescue because of his action. Had he done other than what he did, he would have drowned. Because of what he did, it was possible for him to be saved.

Trey: Let me draw possibly another analogy to possibly help clarify. It’s like a fish swimming against the stream. The fish is resisting the current that’s all around it swimming towards what is his death. It’s only when the fish stops resisting the current that its force overwhelms him and takes him far away from that death and brings life. The fish did not do it, only stopped resisting the current already in place. So I don’t think it originates with you. While with the drowning man his inaction made it possible for his rescue, he was not, in fact, responsible for any portion of his rescue. His only possible action would have resulted in the failed rescue. So, as I’ve said, on my view it is entirely possible to resist grace, but it is not possible to save yourself or even, really, choose grace. Now while that may not be a Dortian Calvinist position, I don’t think it can be called heretical and it certainly has grounding in Scripture. That’s really what I’m trying to say. It’s not that I’m necessarily right or you’re wrong, but that my view is, nevertheless, a valid perspective.

Chris: Why does the fish stop resisting?

Trey: The fish stops resisting (now I’m really going to stretch the analogy) because its eyes were  opened to the genuine possibility, or even likelihood that it was going the wrong direction despite every instinct it had (by the Holy Spirit). Then it had to choose to either stop resisting or continue to follow its instinct. When/if the fish chose to stop resisting, it began to receive some sort of confirmation (now the analogy is getting really thin) along the way, though it was only assured it was correct once it reached the destination at the end of the current into the pool of water (or Grace). Again the key distinction is that, for the fish, even once the eyes are opened the stream (Grace) can continue to be resisted.

Chris: [When you say] “The fish stops resisting… because its eyes were  opened… that it was going the wrong direction,” that’s where I’d see the distinction between what you propose and semi-Pelagianism, or even Article 2. The semi-Pelagian would argue there is no need for someone to open our eyes, at least on the matter of changing directions/being saved, because our eyes are already capable of seeing and we are already capable of choosing. But if the argument is that no, God must open our eyes, God must make it possible for us to see, then we move away from semi-Pelagianism.

Trey: Then I think we can agree I’m not semi-Pelagian, but I would posit that one can hold to the statement (including Article 2) and accept this, even if it is not made explicit in the document. There, I think, is where one of the problems of the document actually is: it’s wording was not very careful. Still, that alone does not make it semi-Pelagian.

Well that’s our conversation. If you’ve managed to read the whole thing (I’m realizing how verbose I can be, and wow!), then what do you think?

My take on the “Statement of the Traditional Southern Baptist understanding of God’s Plan for Salvation”

If you are not a member of the Southern Baptist Convention (now aka Great Commission Baptist), the following blog post may not seem to apply to your own particular situation, but as the largest protestant denomination in America with an extensive missionary force, through the International Mission Board (IMB) in cooperation with local/national denominations, what happens in the SBC/GCB affects many more Christians than those in the denomination. Further, the controversy I’m going to address below involves issues that to the heart of a very interesting debate that is being held in a variety of congregations and denominations and touches on issues of what salvation is (what we may call ‘redemption,’ ‘atonement,’ or altogether fitting within the larger umbrella of ‘soteriology’) and what our current state as people is before God (what might be termed ‘theological anthropology,’ which will include a discussion of the doctrine of sin, or ‘harmartiology’).

What I am talking about is the recently posted “Traditional Southern Baptist Understanding of Salvation” that was recently posted to the high profile SBC website SBCtoday, and was signed by numerous denominational leaders, Seminary presidents, pastors, and SBC theology/religion professors. I will return the previous series “Where did our bible come from” to talk about inspiration and a little bit about translation next time. However, considering that many other high profile websites have addressed it, including the other primary SBC site SBCvoices, and the fiercely Calvinist, but not Southern Baptist, site the Gospel Coalition, as well as some of my divinity school colleagues like Chris Roberts (who I am still friends with despite some of our other theological differences), it seems appropriate to come back to blogging in order to address this specific issue.

Background

-On May 30 (not the 31 as some have written elsewhere), a post appeared on the SBC blog SBCtoday entitled “A Statement of the Traditional Southern Baptist Understanding of God’s Plan of Salvation.” It appears, from what I can gather, that it was meant to be an initial offering, accompanied as it was by an introduction explaining the rationale, which might be later modified. If you want to read it in its entirety you can follow the link here. The statement immediately created a buzz and several prominent SBC leaders sign it (such as Jerry Vines, Jimmy Draper, Paige Paterson along with roughly 450 other pastors, theologians, and other SBC leaders or lay leaders). A full list can be found here.

-The next day, over at another prominent SBC blog SBCvoices, a response was posted a response to this statement saying it sent the wrong kind of message and was unnecessarily divisive. It can be found here. While I agree with the post to a certain extent, I do think he overstates his case (see below).

-By June 4, a number of other blogs had picked up the issue. An Roger E. Olson, an Arminian blogger at patheos, on the one hand, and a seminary colleague of mine (whom I still consider a friend) on the Calvinist end of the spectrum, Chris Roberts, both argued that the text of the statement, particularly article 2, sounded rather semi-pelagian.

-On June 6, the incredibly prominent Calvinist blog The Gospel Coalition featured an FAQ on the subject. Some of the information provided there was faulty, I’ll address below, but mostly it simply reiterated information present elsewhere. Why would a Calvinist blog whose primary readership is decidedly not SBC (though a few SBCers do follow it) decide to post on this controversy, well likely because of the Calvinist/non-Calvinist issues currently going on inside the SBC.

A Valid Critique (but not that valid)

The Gospel Coalition FAQ mentions three primary critiques, personally I don’t think the first two are even worth mentioning (but I’ll address them below), and the third needs a bit more nuance. However, the critique they fail to mention, which was picked up by both the SBCvoices blog and Chris Roberts’s blog, is that the method behind this is suspect. The stated purpose of SBCtoday is to promote unity among Southern Baptists. Since that is the case, it seems odd that they would post something that seems so inflammatory. This was a statement specifically geared to distinguish the “traditional Southern Baptist view” from the Calvinist view of salvation. How could this not be divisive? One of my biggest aversions to many in SBC leadership is not a question of theology (in fact, I’m usually in heavy agreement), but in methodology. If there is no love in our words, how are we to proceed. That said, I don’t think the intent of the statement was to be divisive. At worst, it was careless in its timing and possible phrasing. Still, there might have been good reason to put it forth.

I’ll admit, being slightly removed from the action by being in another country and not really leading a church puts me a bit out of touch with the day to day activities of the SBC and how it impacts the local congregations. However, there has been an increasing trend to adopt Calvinism by new SBC pastors. Currently around 10% of the SBC’s pastors and leaders are self-identified Calvinists. However, over the past five years or so, around 30% of SBC seminary graduates are self-identified Calvinists. This doesn’t even account for the variety of non-denominational seminaries whose graduates go on to serve in the SBC. For every one Asbury Seminary graduate who goes to the SBC (a non-denominational school affiliated with Arminianism), I would guess that there are easily two who went somewhere like Reformed Theological Seminary or Westminster Theological Seminary. This is not to say that all of these incoming Calvinist pastors will try to force their congregation to become Calvinist (in fact, I would say that a good number would take strides to prevent that), however it does highlight two important points.

First, there is a significant uptick in the number of ministers who identify themselves as Calvinist, much moreso than in previous years, or indeed living memory, for the SBC. This can cause a certain amount of backlash as the once dominant group begins to feel slightly threatened. If that is the motivation behind this statement (which it may be for some), then the criticism against it as needlessly divisive has some strong grounding. However, given the introduction to the statement, I don’t believe that is the case.

In the introduction to the document, the authors are rather complimentary of the majority of SBC Calvinists, noting that they have no desire to force their views on the rest of the convention. Admittedly some of the caricatures of Calvinism it mentions (anti-missional, hyper-calvinism) are unfair and no serious follower of Dortian Calvinism (TULIP/ROSES) would accept these oddities as accurate doctrine. However, it also mentions some “New Calvinists” who are not so keen to avoid imposing their views on others. Despite the opinion of Matt Svoboda, who wrote one of the earlier responses, he is likely not included in the group of “New Calvinists” mentioned (at least if what Svoboda says about himself is true). Specifically, the “New Calvinists” are not just part of the “Young, Restless, and Reformed” group (though there may be some overlap), but are those whose Calvinism has a certain method.

The New Calvinists mentioned in the preamble to the statement are new to the SBC not because of their theology, but because of their methodology. They do seek to impose their Calvinism on the convention and, because they think it is entirely correct and the only gospel truth, seek to force others to embrace it. Now, the methodology is not necessarily so straight forward. Instead, they are encouraging each other to take pastoral positions at non-calvinist churches, essentially hide their calvinism, and then subtly through weekly preaching and selection of education literature, move the congregation toward Calvinism. I knew some who were involved in this movement and went to divinity school with some (I am not, repeat not, including Chris Roberts in that group, I think he is a model of how a Calvinist pastor in the SBC should approach his duties as a pastor by being open about his Calvinist beliefs with his congregation (who is not Calvinist) and working together with them toward a mutual respect and cooperation for the Gospel). These people were easily identifiable in my divinity school because they sat in the back of the theology classroom, where the decidedly non-Calvinist Baptist professor (Fisher Humphreys for the curious) would directly address this phenomenon. They would mock him after class when he dared to give equal time to any theological position that was not expressly Calvinist without also deriding it. There was no respect there, and they were very clear that their intent was to move the whole of the SBC toward Calvinism, by any means necessary. I have not kept up with those former co-students, nor do I think I could recall their names, but they were present at the divinity school I attended (which, let me be clear, is not the fault of the divinity school, nor the majority of the Calvinist students).

It is this, somewhat disturbing and subversive, trend to which the statement explicitly states it is a reaction. If that is the case, then it is somewhat appropriate to make such a statement. Churches, who may have good reasons for their beliefs, even if they cannot articulate them in theological language, are well served by such statements. Not because the statements are polarizing, but because they provide a clear stance of beliefs held for good reasons that people may lack the formal training to articulate in a coherent manner (for instance, for the first several decades of the early church they lacked the formal language to express the Trinity until much later, but the evidence that it was accepted as early as the writing of the New Testament is very clear).

That said, while I understand the impetus to create the statement, that indeed may be valid, I do not know that I would agree with the exact language or timing of the message. The language has a sense of “us vs. them” to it that I do not know is entirely appropriate. As the document acknowledges, Calvinists have been part of Baptist tradition almost since the beginning. Thus it is really only one group’s “traditional” view, and even if it is the majority it is inappropriate to isolate one group in this manner. The language seems to indicate the authors don’t view Calvinists as genuinely Southern Baptist, and they were, instead, some sort of outsider group who were merely tolerated byreal Southern Baptists. This is a mistake because national groups of Baptists, from the earliest Triennial Convention (the first national Baptist group), have always emphasized adherence to the gospel and missions above all else and well before such doctrinal distinctions as these.

In summation, while I can understand, and to a certain sympathize with, the reasons for releasing the statement, I do find that I agree with this critique to a certain extent (though I would say that some of the critiques go too far). It seems to divide much more than it helps. As I said before, though, I am removed from the situation and don’t know the day to day impact the “New Calvinists” are having upon the SBC churches. So while I don’t agree with the method, I can sympathize with it (and find myself largely in agreement with its theology). Regardless, it’s already been put out there and so should be dealt with, including .

Two Grossly Mistaken Critiques

The Gospel Coalition, in the FAQ I mentioned above, gives three major critiques of the statement. Only one actually deserves an extended discussion, but the other two seem to demand some explanation, only because of their prevalence.

Allegation of lack of Scriptural foundation

First, the Gospel Coalition alleges that “The document’s primary argument relies on an appeal to the masses rather than careful exegesis of Scripture.” It is difficult to take such a critique seriously, particular given that after each article a list of passages used as support are given (following the style of the Baptist Faith and Message). The trouble is the Gospel Coalition blogger who wrote this, like a surprising number of Calvinists, assume that if your position does not match theirs, you must not be basing it upon Scripture. It’s not explicit in those terms, and may not even be something of which they are conscious, but it is something I have found in conversation with many (but by no means all) Calvinists. There is no doubt in their minds that there is one correct way to interpret Scripture and if you don’t agree, you must not be reading it correctly. There’s a certain amount of arrogance in that statement above (that it does not rely on careful exegesis of Scripture). It assumes not only that the authors of the “traditional” statement did not engage in their own study of Scripture, but that the majority of Southern Baptists do not base their views on Scripture.

Suggestions of a different history

Second, the Gospel Coalition goes on to suggest, in its second critique, that the non-Calvinist position is relatively recent, dating only to the publication of the 1963 Baptist Faith and Message. This is simply untrue, but all too common. There is a fair amount of historical revisionism in such claims among many (but again not all) Baptist Calvinists. It’s assumed by a fair number of Baptist Calvinists that Baptists have historically been Calvinists and it is a recent phenomenon that they lost their Calvinist roots. This assumption is based upon the fact that most early baptist confessions have been Calvinist in tone, but it fails to account for the broader historical picture.

To begin with, the very earliest baptists, both in the US and in England (where the very first baptists, distinct from the Anabaptists, came about), were decidedly non-Calvinist. In England they eventually became labeled “General Baptists” to distinguish themselves from the other group of Baptists, who sprung up independently about a decade later, who became known as “Particular Baptists.” While this later, Calvinist, group had some more outspoken members, they were less persecuted (but still persecuted and imprisoned) than the other, non-Calvinist group in large part because of their closer ties to the Westminster Confession of Faith (a document that is strongly Calvinist in tone and content). The lessened persecution, which subsequently meant they did not have to flee for a time to Amsterdam, is likely the reason that more of the early leaders’ writings persist to this day. In the US, Roger Williams set up Providence, Rhode Island, after being exiled from the Puritan settlers in New England. He intentionally set up his community to be non-exclusive in terms of theology and, despite using the term “providence” to describe his community, was not really a Dortian Calvinist.

While it is difficult to say exactly what number of other early American Baptists were Calvinist, given that they had many ties to both the first and second Great Awakenings in the US, it is probable that there was a mix of Calvinists and non-Calvinists, though considering the more charismatic nature of many of these revivals, its likely that more were non-Calvinist. Looking at some of the documents related to the first national Baptist group, the Triennial Convention, it is likely that, again, there was a mixture of Calvinists and non-Calvinists.

Once the Southern Baptist Convention was formed, in the years leading up to the American Civil War, they eventually created their own seminary, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. One of the founding documents, The Abstracts of Principles, is decidedly Calvinist and was the first confession of faith exclusively for Southern Baptists (and required of all faculty). Considering that the Seminary was founded in 1858 and the next SBC seminary (Southwestern) was not founded until 1908, as well as the somewhat Calvinist nature of the 1925 Baptist Faith and Message (the first denomination wide confession of faith for Southern Baptists and the only major confession since the Abstracts of Principles), this has led some, such as those in the Baptist Founders Movement (like founders.org) and Al Mohler (among others), to suggest that Southern Baptists have historically been predominantly Calvinist. However, this ignores the broader historical setting in which these documents arose (and the responses to them).

First of all, although the Southern Baptist Convention was formally formed in 1844, they continued to use the seminary of other baptists (Newton Seminary) at the time. For those Southern Baptists who did not want to use that seminary, the still fairly young Furman University founded in 1826 as Men’s Academy and Theological Institute in South Carolina, and renamed to Furman 1850 maintaining its affiliation with the South Carolina Baptist Convention and adding to that an affiliation with Southern Baptists (though now it has severed ties, formally at least, with both). Furman was, and still is, largely anti-creedal and resistant to formal confessions. It’s important to note this affiliation predates the founding of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary by nearly a decade. It should also be noted that James Boyce, the first president of Southern Baptist Theology who wrote the Abstracts, did not attend one of these Baptist seminaries, but instead attended Princeton Theological Seminary, which was still fiercely committed to Dortian Calvinism at the time. It is for this reason, not because it was predominant Southern Baptist Theology, that Boyce likely constructed the Abstracts the way in which he did.

Despite Boyce’s encouragement that other churches adopt similar confessions, no such moves were made. In order to provide a more official sounding alternative to the Calvinist heavy Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary was founded in 1908 (it should be noted that during the Civil war and early reconstruction periods Southern was incredibly limited in the scope and number of courses offered, so the gap of time is not as long as it seems, in only about 20 of the 50 years between foundings could Southern have been said to be active, and Newton as well as Furman were still viable (and popular) alternatives. Nevertheless in 1908 Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary was founded and they explicitly refused to adopt anything remotely similar to the Abstract of Principles (only Southeastern would accept Southern’s call to accept the Abstracts). So, despite the narrative told by the founders movement, the majority of Southern Baptist education was not Calvinist throughout its history (and for a long period in the 20th Century, even Southern wasn’t very Calvinist).

Regarding the 1925 Baptist Faith and Message (BF&M). Quite frankly, I don’t know how it can be described as a Calvinist document. Most of the statements are left unchanged in newer versions (the 1963, and 2000 BF&M), only exhibiting later expansion. Further the 1925 confession expressly states that grace is accepted or resisted by free action. Specifically it states:

The blessings of salvation are made free to all by the gospel. It is the duty of all to accept them by penitent and obedient faith. Nothing prevents the salvation of the greatest sinner except his own voluntary refusal to accept Jesus Christ as teacher, Saviour, and Lord.

It  bears some resemblance to the earlier New Hampshire and London confessions, but that is likely due to the fact that they needed a format to follow. In terms of actual content, it is nowhere near as Calvinist as the founders movement would have you believe. Don’t take my word for it, though, you can compare all the SBC national confessions here.

What is particularly troublesome about the Gospel Coalition’s critique is that they refer to the 1963 BF&M (and by proxy the 2000) as a “doctrinal downgrade.” Granted they are quoting from founders.org, but for a non-Baptist group (like the Gospel Coalition) to even reference a source that declares one SBC BF&M a “downgrade” is wildly inappropriate and irresponsible. It is only a “downgrade” from the perspective of the “New Calvinists” who wish the SBC was more homogenous in accepting Calvinist and other similar revisionist histories. And to point out that the 1963 and 2000 are essentially identical with regard to such a “downgrade” is insulting to the overwhelming majority of Southern Baptists who adhere to one or both of those documents. It is frankly a little sad that I have to spend so much time debunking what is a clear rewriting of baptist history. The truth is that the “traditional” nature of the statement is much more traditional than most of its critics care to accept.

I’ve used a variety of sources in compiling the above section, the two primary ones, however, are:

H. Leon McBeth’s The Baptist Heritage
and

James Leo Garrett’s Baptist Theology: A Four Century Study

A seemingly Valid Critique

The third critique mentioned by the Gospel Coalition, the final one that I will discuss here, and the primary one levied by both Arminian Roger E. Olson, and Calvinist (and Baptist, and again colleague) Chris Roberts (who is referenced on both SBCvoices and the Gospel Coalition) is that the statement is semi-pelagian. Specifically they want to identify it with the heresy that is now called semi-pelagianism, here’s the problem, no such heresy has ever been declared.

Usually when someone states that semi-Pelagianism was condemned as a heresy, they are referring to the Marseillianism, in reference to the monks from Marseilles who were condemned for advocating “relics of Pelagianism” in 529. It is important to note that what was condemned was not a separate heresy, but the same heresy of Pelagianism. It wasn’t until the sixteenth and seventeenth century that this was (briefly) referred to as semi-Pelagianism in an effort to discredit Molina and his followers who advocated a “Middle Knowledge” or Molinism (he was cleared of any heresy allegations). It was not really used strongly again until the twentieth century, though possibly as early as the nineteenth century. But let’s look at what exactly was condemned in 529.

Pelagius argued that people were not born with either an inclination to sin nor the condemnation of sin. He suggested that is was possible for humans to live a completely sinless life, and by doing so earn their own salvation without the need for God’s grace. He went on to suggest that some people alive during his time were actually living such sinless lives. Pelagius was condemned as an heretic for preaching a gospel contrary to the Scripture (he was not, however, executed as the Clive Owen version of King Arthur suggested).

Three specific teachings of the Marseillian monks were likewise condemned as heresy:

1) Faith is what saves you, but faith is really just the exertion of your own free will (i.e. you save yourself by your own efforts to act morally good)

2) While they condemned the Pelagian teaching that everyone is naturally meritorious (free from sin and performing morally good acts), they nevertheless argued that everyone has a natural claim or right to grace irrespective of anything else (essentially a form of universalism)

3) “Perseverance to the end” or the idea that one remains saved until death or the return of Christ is, according to this movement, the result of human effort only. (as opposed to the idea, affirmed by virtually all Southern Baptists that once you are saved by God, he will preserve your salvation, not by your own actions)

Much of the above was taken from the Catholic Encyclopedia, the relevant available online here.

What is being labeled as semi-Pelagian in the statement is article 2 which reads:

We affirm that, because of the fall of Adam, every person inherits a nature and environment inclined toward sin and that every person who is capable of moral action will sin. Each person’s sin alone brings the wrath of a holy God, broken fellowship with Him, ever-worsening selfishness and destructiveness, death, and condemnation to an eternity in hell.

We deny that Adam’s sin resulted in the incapacitation of any person’s free will or rendered any person guilty before he has personally sinned. While no sinner is remotely capable of achieving salvation through his own effort, we deny that any sinner is saved apart from a free response to the Holy Spirit’s drawing through the Gospel.

None of the above three points that are applied the Marseillianism heresy can be applied to this statement. Instead, it is labeled semi-Pelagian merely because it is not a strict adherence to the Augustinian view of the Original Sin. According to Augustine, every person inherits both a nature inclined toward sin as well as the guilt of the initial sin of Adam (prior to any moral action themselves). This is inherited, reasons Augustine, through a process he calls “concupiscence.” While the term has broad meaning, for Augustine it essentially means that every child was conceived as a result of lustful passion (though it is unclear whether he considers it sinful in itself, it seems very likely) and as a result the Original Sin is passed down generationally from Adam, including the guilt of that sin.

There are some problems with Augustine’s account, including that it seems to have a very negative view of human sexuality, even within Christian marriage, and for that reason no one accepts it outright (everyone modifies it to some degree). While I won’t bother to get into some of the particular problems I have with Augustine’s view, I will simply say that Calvinists, by and large, who are generally Augustinian in their theology have a tendency to label anything that does not conform to their own adoption of Augustine’s view of Original Sin as semi-Pelagian or outright Pelagian. The most notable exception being Karl Barth who argued that Original Sin exists within all humanity as a propensity toward sin, but does have an inherent guilt associated with it (which is close to, but not identical with, the position offered in the “Statement”).

I could go on and on about this particular criticism and how valid it is, and to what extent a Southern Baptist (who in reality recognizes “no creed but the bible”) should be troubled or not by it, but suffice it to say, I don’t think an honest case can be made for labeling this statement semi-Pelagian in the sense of the early heresy nor do I think that if it is merely semi-Pelagian in the sense of “not fully Augustinian” should we be particularly bothered.

It is interesting to note that, in a follow up, Chris Roberts sought to get a better definition of Semi-Pelagianism than the one offered quickly on various common sources (like Wikipedia or the like). While I examined the Catholic Encyclopedia, he turned to Reformed Theologian Herman Bavinck. According to Bavinck’s description of semi-Pelagianism, it may be entirely likely that article 2 of the “statement” is semi-Pelagian (but it still is not necessarily so). However, if we read closely, we see that many of those whom Baptists readily acknowledge as part of their heritage are included in Bavinck’s rather broad interpretation of semi-Pelagianism. To quote Bavinck directly:

“Totally in agreement with this [what Bavinck has called semi-Pelagianism] is the opinion of Anabaptists, Zwingli, the Remonstrants [Arminians], the Moravian Brethren, the Supernaturalists, and many modern theologians.” (Underline and information in brackets mine).

If you don’t follow Baptist theology, you should know that Baptists have much in common with the Anabaptists, but even moreso with Zwingli. The understanding of the Ordinances of the church for the overwhelming majority of Baptists (including Calvinist Baptists) is almost completely Zwinglian. It’s pretty bold to claim that we should abandon this statement, as well as some of the foundational theologians of baptist life because a few Calvinist theologians (and apparently one Arminian today) argue that it is heretical. Although I don’t necessarily agree with the manner in which the document was released, or some of the divisive language, considering it is already out there, I find myself to have an incredible amount of agreement with it. If that makes me semi-Pelagian, then so be it. I’m more concerned with an adherence to what I think is the true Gospel of Christ than a skewed interpretation of history and regulations to which I (as a free church Southern Baptist) am not genuinely tied.

Since the post has gone on for quite some time (and I’ve been working on it for a few evening commutes now), I think I’ll leave it at that for the time being. If you’d like to rebut me, suggest something I’ve missed,  ask me about anything I haven’t made clear, or encourage me to delve deeper, feel free to do so in the comments below and thanks for reading.

Post Script: I do not mean to attack Chris Roberts personally. I think he is an admirable pastor and should be very much welcome in the SBC. I did, however, take exception with the content of the critique of the original statement and since he has become one of the more high profile critics of the statement (having been cited on other blogs) I do feel it is appropriate to cite his blog in response. I still consider him a friend, and I hope he can consider me the same and view this as merely a friendly (if still serious) disagreement.