Archive for September, 2005

My posts on Restorationism continue to stir some interest, with Richard Collins weighing in with his assessment of what can be known of the very early church with a number of interesting comments. You can read three comments starting here and two more starting here.

I wanted to address his comments in a post, but I am now beginning to think that it will require a series of posts, as a huge number of difficult issues have been raised. But first I want to think about the factors that cause people like Richard to move beyond Restorationism, as indeed many of the early Restorationist leaders have done themselves (read Andrew Walker’s book for the details).

Richard was once part of a New Frontiers church, but now finds himself in the more historical denominations, apparently as a result of extensive reflection and reading on what the early church was like. He asks whether the zeal of those leaders who came out of established denominations to form house churches was somewhat misguided. It would appear that Sven is making a similar journey to Richard, as he retreats out of the narrow straits of New Frontiers to swim in the broader sea of Christianity.

While Restorationist churches often receive new members from the traditional denominations, delighted to have found something more “New Testament” than their previous church, what are we to make of those headed in the other direction, and for exactly the same reason?

Is it simply that “the grass is greener on the other side”, where the weaknesses of your home church are magnified in your mind, while the faults of others are not seen? This is a common enough reason for switching churches. Is it a “declaration of independence” – a sort of belated teenage rebellion, where those who have spent their life in one denomination start to become disillusioned with its exclusive claims to be the “real deal”? Could it be intellectual pride, as those who know far less dismiss the dissenter’s arguments without ever understanding them? Leaving to find a church that will recognise you for the true genius that you are might seem a promising option.

But these factors, though they may explain some “sheep transfers”, may still be too unkind to people like Richard and Sven. They are thinking people, who have eventually concluded that the Restorationist model is indefensible. They are always questioning their assumptions, exploring new avenues of thought, trying out different pronunciations of Shibboleth. This is found quite threatening by many evangelicals, and by questioning the assumptions, these people can find themselves marked out as problem people who are plotting a coup. They realise they have no future in ministry where they are, and make a (hopefully) courteous but prompt exit.

I found it interesting that Terry Virgo invited Philip Greenslade and Ian Stackhouse to speak at the New Frontiers leadership conference this year. While remaining committed charismatic evangelicals, these men are both deep thinkers who are not afraid to critique the movement they are part of. John Hosier also seems to be exploring how exactly New Frontiers contributes to the bigger picture of the church. So perhaps there is hope that future Richards and Svens will be able to stay in New Frontiers to help make sure that our zeal is properly tempered by knowledge.

None of this should be misinterpreted as me saying that we should celebrate those who publicly voice their criticisms of the essential truths of the gospel. It must be guarded (2 Tim 1:14). Neither am I suggesting that in a gloriously post-modern way we allow anyone to get into the pulpit and advocate whatever model of church life seems like a good idea to them. But even the fairly dogmatic John Piper has recently expressed the importance of receiving those who differ on the non-essentials. We need to revisit the lessons of Rom 14 and 1 Cor 8, and learn to be more accepting of one another despite our differences.

My friend Chris asked me last night whether I was a 7 point Calvinist. I had never heard the term before, but apparently John Piper is one. Read the article for a brief summary of his two extra points – “double predestination” and “the best of all worlds”.

Double predestination is probably an unhelpful name for what is a logical outworking of predestination. If God has chosen some, then it follows that he has not chosen others – he would hardly be unaware of the consequences of his own choices. However, as the default action for a just God is to punish sin, is it really necessary to speak of God as specifically choosing people for damnation?

An analogy may help. If I walk through a subway in London and I see five homeless people, and I give £10 to one of them, I have chosen to show kindness to that one person. But have I chosen to reject the other four? In one sense yes, but I would not describe the incident by in those terms – e.g. “I saw five homeless people today and decided not to give anything to four of them”. The choice was to deviate from the default action of simply walking on by. Similarly I would not say “I saw five homeless people today and decided not to offer a room to any of them”. The best description of the incident is the choice I made, not the countless choices I could have made but didn’t.

Point 7 – “the best of all worlds” (sounds like what these people who claim to believe in both Calvinism and Arminianism are trying to achieve) seems a reasonable thesis to hold, but how exactly we could be sure of this I don’t know. It fits well with Piper’s assertion that maximising his own glory is God’s priority (see Wink’s post at Parableman for some critical reflection on this idea). It makes the “best” world the one that best achieves this end, rather than judging what is “best” by standards that would more naturally come to mind – (e.g. least suffering, most beauty).

I suppose in one sense I agree with Piper on both points. But I don’t feel the need to elevate them to join the 5 points of Calvinism. In fact, I would argue that not all the five points of Calvinism are as fundamental as each other. Once you have accepted unconditional election as a given, perseverance of the saints, irresistible calling and limited atonement are simply logical deductions (limited atonement also presupposes a particular theory of the atonement). Total depravity just explains to us why the election had to be unconditional for any to be saved.

But as I discussed with Harun last night, perhaps some are predestined to be Arminians, while others choose to be Calvinists.

Recently, Sven and Richard have made some very insightful comments on my post Am I still a Restorationist?, so I want to continue my look at the ongoing relevance of Restorationist thinking. This post has got a bit long, and isn’t quite as polished as I would like, but it might spark off a bit more debate among those working out where they stand on these issues.

One of the favourite themes of the Restorationism is getting back to the New Testament pattern of early church life. This notion often comes under fire from those from other church backgrounds as being both theologically and historically naïve.

First, it is questioned whether we indeed want to be like the early church. Was it really all that great? The church in Corinth was riddled with problems, the seven churches of Revelation were in a sorry state, the church of 3 John had an out of control leader, the church of Galatians were in danger of losing the gospel altogether, while the church of Acts had full-blown apostolic confrontations. Add to that the repeated pattern of heretical splinter groups arising during the first centuries of Christianity (some early enough to warrant opposition in the Pauline epistles), and it begins to look like the Restorationist vision of the early church is romantically viewed through rose-tinted spectacles.

Second, churches that have their stated aim to be like the early church are quite at ease with a number of features of modern church life that were unheard of in those early days. Worship leaders playing their guitars with a full band behind them and computerised words projected onto a big screen are assumed to be an obvious implication of being a New Testament church. Youth ministers, Kidz Klubs, worship CDs, What Would Jesus Do bracelets and teaching tapes are standard fare though the first apostles had not even heard of such things. Who gets to decide what parts of early church life we go back to? And how do we know what it was really like anyway?

Of course, most Christians in most denominations have simply not read up on their church history. The little they know is from deductions from the New Testament and biographical accounts of various believers. So the Pentecostals know about the healing evangelists of the early 1900s, and the Reformed Evangelicals know about Calvin and Luther. Others know a bit about various saints, missionaries and communes. But the fact is, when it comes to the early church, most of us know very little. And those who have done their reading of ancient history are wont to point out the many differences between a Jewish 1st century church and a western charismatic megachurch.

But much of the criticism of the Restorationist “New Testament church” tends to miss the point, probably thanks to careless rhetoric by Restorationists. What is being advocated is not a recreation of “early church practise” which was undoubtedly a mixture of good and bad, but the belief that there was an “New Testament pattern”, which the early church was in touch with in a way that has been lost somewhat. In other words, the basic principles of church government, community and worship were there right from the start. It makes New Testament the standard, and has no interest in embracing ecclesiastical structures or liturgical traditions that developed later.

Now to many evangelicals, this is not overly controversial. But the contention of Restorationists is that certain things have been lost over the years, that were part of this “New Testament pattern”. These include the charismatic gifts, the role of apostle, and a bigger vision of the “kingdom” that calls for a radical discipleship affecting every area of life. The established churches were seen to have jettisoned these dynamics of church life, resulting in a compromised and powerless church. This stands in stark contrast with the church in Acts in which the Holy Spirit was powerfully moving. But not everyone is convinced. Non-charismatic evangelicals do not take such a dim view of the post-apostolic early church, and see the reduction in supernatural Holy Spirit activity as a natural “salvation-history” progression, and the apostolic office as becoming redundant.

Where you stand on this debate will depend on your hermeneutics, theology, church background, and knowledge of church history. But I think there are lessons to be learned on both sides of the argument. Let me offer a few – first to the Restorationists (and evangelical charismatics, who tend to think along much the same lines):

• There is a need to be continually willing to evaluate all we do in the light of Scripture. For example, in the area of worship, there is a danger of becoming performance oriented, experience centred and commercially driven, while treating “joy” and “freedom” as though they were the only Biblical essentials of worship.
• It would help to have a better understanding of the ‘early’ years of church history (pre 1600s if you are reformed, pre 1900s if you are Pentecostal), and to take a slightly more respectful attitude to those who have gone before us. We may have theological differences with them, but the Holy Spirit has not been on one long holiday since Pentecost, and there is much to be learned from, without the need for uncritical acceptance.
• Exegesis is becoming a lost art in the charismatic movement with less and less expository preaching. If we are serious about following a New Testament pattern, then we should be serious about understanding what it is really saying.

But let me also offer Challenges to the critics of Restorationism:

• Just because you doubt that the Restorationists have rightly understood what the New Testament pattern is, doesn’t mean that there isn’t anything that needs to be restored. Too often the arguments of the Restorationists have been dismissed by appealing to their inconsistencies, without asking what the New Testament does teach in these areas.
• Similarly, there is no point continuing to knock down a straw man that argues for a Restoration of the faults and heresies of early church life.
• The point that Acts was not explicitly designed as a manual of church life does not mean that it can teach us nothing. A level-headed hermeneutic will still be able to deduce facts about many important aspects of mission, church government, priorities, community life, which give us a window onto how the apostles themselves saw fit to organise church life.
• The phrase “salvation history” is not sufficient to explain away any hint of the experiential or supernatural dimensions of the Spirit’s ministry in the New Testament.