I’ve had a post pretty much like this rattling around in my head since the Engage conference, but Bathgate beat me to it:
Perhaps the fact that I’ve finished my essay, and he’s procrastinating from his, had something to do with it. Regardless, he said pretty much what I’ve been thinking, and said it well. Have a read.
False dichotomies spotted over the last few weeks at bible college:
The first was a cheap stereotype in a sermon: one of two during the course of the talk. The other equated ‘having the characteristics of a female’ with ‘wearing lipstick and going to the toilet in pairs’. Both for a cheap laugh.
I was livid.
The second frustrated me no less. Philosophy class had us watching a video on so-called ‘Intelligent Design’, which purports to be science that simply acknowledges the possibility of a rational design behind natural phenomena.
Problem is, it’s pretty bad science. At least, what we saw in the video was. Biased claims to be ‘objective’ while evolutionists/naturalists are blinkered, ignorance or non-treatment of alternative theories, and sneaky shifts in language abounded.
Why is any of this important?
It’s not about Jesus. This is a problem, as the end-point of intelligent design is Theism, an idea of God a long way from the God of the Bible, who is personally and intimately involved in the world through Jesus Christ. And it paints the Christian community (or at least a vocal sub-set) as idiots in the public eye, for reasons other than the gospel. I’m more than happy to be considered dumb for my belief in the resurrection of Jesus (cf. 1 Cor 1:18-2:5). But for the sake of pretty average science, based on a thoroughly divergent philosophy of science, mixed with (at least in the US) a good dose of politics - no thanks.
Evolution does not preclude Christian belief, despite what the intelligent design people say.
My doctrine essay is (finally) done. Huzzah! It was on how our understanding of God as triune shapes our understanding of church. Big topic, very interesting.
If you’re interested, here’s a potted summary of what I wrote, entitled ‘The Act and Being of Church? The Limitations of Trinitarian Analogy.’
Our understanding of God as triune has direct implications for our understanding of church. Firstly, we recognise that the church is instantiated by the Trinity, as the Father calls his people to himself by his Son, in the Spirit. The united actions of the persons of the Trinity institute and constitute the church. Secondly, the worship of the church is focussed on the Trinity, as we hear and proclaim the doctrine of God. In recent times analogies have been drawn from the triune relations to an ecclesiology, from Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, and Free Church positions. Consistently applying models of how the divine persons relate to finite human persons, however, is fraught with difficulty. Models of ‘person’ developed from divine persons are not sufficient to fully capture human personhood, which seriously damages ecclesial models based on such notions. Finally, a proper trinitarian understanding of christology allows us to take church models or metaphors centred on Christ as acceptable, without needing to appeal to flawed or strained ‘full trinitarian’ analogies. We conclude that there is no logical reason for making explicit trinitarian formulations constitutive of ecclesiology, rather an appropriate balance of scriptural and theological categories must be applied, when necessary, to appropriately limit the analogy.
Calvin, Institutes III.xx.28:
‘The reason why Paul enjoins us to both pray and to give thanks without ceasing [I Thess. 5:17—18; cf. I Tim. 2:1, 8] is, of course, that he wishes all men to lift up their desires to God, with all possible constancy, at all times, in all places, and in all affairs and transactions, to expect all things from him, and give him praise for all things, since he offers us unfailing reasons to praise and pray.’
There’s a nice list put together at the Baptist Blogger on rules/advice for seminary students. Here are some I particularly liked:
5. Never, ever use an exclamation point for any reason whatsoever.
(!)
17. Serve one year as a professor’s grader. There’s nothing like reading stacks of horrible research papers to teach you how not to write.
Amen. My UNSW Ethics classes have taught me well.
23. Skip chapel most of the time for early lunches off campus with friends. Hooky is liberating.
Now if only our chapels were before lunch…
36. Ask no more than three questions in class per semester.
Need I say anything?
48. Burn at least one textbook in a ceremony of private dissent. Most books on leadership make for good kindling.
How about this one?
Some, however, didn’t quite sit well with me:
14. Find a spot in the library away from high traffic areas and live there between classes. Stay away from the coffee shops. Do not waste your energies rutting with the spring bucks.
Coffee shops are wonderful. Newtown has some good ones.
16. Expand your knowledge base of art, literature, and music. Visit at least one museum a year, and spend the day. Attend a symphony. Read Shakespeare.
Sure. But don’t just be arty. Get into the culture of the people with whom you minister. Compare Mark Driscoll’s advice.
‘I would strongly encourage all pastors and Christian leaders to spend some time familiarizing themselves with the fast-growing sport [Ultimate Fighting] that is capturing millions of young men and ask yourself why.’
A friend suggested that we put a list together for Moore College. Any suggestions?
From the Sydney Morning Herald’s Good Weekend interview:
The book that changed my life is… the Bible. I only discovered it quite late in life. There’s a reason it’s called the Book.
Nice.
I’ve just handed in an essay for Church History, on the effects of English translations of the Bible in the sixteenth century (under the reign of Queen Elizabeth I). The essay is a little long to post, but here are some highlights:
Pretty cool stuff, for which I for one am very thankful.
I just started a new book today. It’s one that Phill and Colette gave us for Christmas, called Dominion and Dynasty, by Stephen Dempster. It’s part of the New Studies in Biblical Theology series.
What is does is look at the Hebrew Bible as a whole, and tries to see what overall shape the Scriptures have. The “wide-angle lens” approach looks not at the Old Testament as we have it, but rather at the final canonical form of the Hebrew Bible, the one that Jesus most likely had. The focus is on the Tanakh, referring to the Law (Torah), the Prophets (Nevi’im) and the Writings (Ketuvim), the traditional division within the Hebrew Scriptures. This is different to the OT in a number of organisational ways, giving a different order to the books at a number of points (one of the more significant examples is that the Old Testament finishes with a prophetic expectation from Malachi, whereas the Tanakh ends with Chronicles, which has a certain note of expectation that God’s promises to his people will be fulfilled).
So far (I’ve read just over one chapter) it’s been interesting just seeing the groundwork defense of what his thesis is being laid - he has to argue quite strongly against a bunch of modern scholarship just to establish the idea that the Scriptures might be considered a unity. Having just studied for an Old Testament theological exam, I’m looking forward to thinking through again the broad ideas that run through the books when taken together, rather than the atomistic verse-by-verse or chapter-by-chapter we exegetes often get caught up on.
