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I made a mistake the other day. In trying to summarize what areas of theology are worth fighting for, I listed two: the authority of Scripture and the gospel. I think this is true, but it sounds an awful lot like a pronouncement, and it doesn't really answer what's worth preserving. Is it a particular view of inspiration or inerrancy? What about the gospel? Does it mean a particular view of gospel (e.g. Calvinism)? I wish I had been more nuanced.

The resulting discussion shows that it's important to carefully define what we're talking about. I've been doing some thinking since that post about Scripture, and how Scripture, in the end, contradicts us all.

The Issue: Can We Trust the Bible?

Tim Keller left a couple of helpful comments on Bill Kinnon's blog a while back. First this:

My pastoral experience is that lay people can't understand any difference between infallibility and inerrancy. I've never met anyone but a seminary trained person who could make the distinction. Here's how ordinary people reason: if the Bible isn't inerrant, there are errors in it. And if there are errors in it, there are some things in the Bible you don't have to follow or believe. And if there are some things I don't have to follow or believe, it's not infallible. I definitely understand that inerrancy can be defended in such a way that concedes too much to Enlightenment rationalism, etc. But if, at the pastoral level, I refuse to use the word 'inerrant' when asked, it leads to tremendous confusion, I think.

Then this:

As a pastor I have often been asked by ordinary people if I thought there were errors in the Bible or not. Very seldom are they looking for a fight or for heresy. They want to know if they can trust the whole Bible or if they had to pick and choose what to believe. If you say, "oh, you can trust the whole Bible completely, but I wouldn't say it is inerrant" it sounds crazy to them. Even if you are more careful--'the Bible is infallible but I wouldn't call it inerrant because that imposes an artificial rationalistic standard on the Bible'--it will only confuse people hopelessly. This doesn't mean I use the word all the time. It is inelegant and abstract. I talk about the full authority, clarity, sufficiency, and inspiration of the whole Bible, etc etc. But if someone asks me if the Bible is inerrant, I unhesitatingly say 'yes,' because not only do I believe it, but it is good pastoral practice.

I think what Tim Keller says is wise. What we're talking about here is not some abstract enlightenment principle. It's the very basic question, "Can we trust the whole Bible, or do we have to sort through and pick out what's right and what's wrong?" While I can appreciate some of the commenters at Bill's who think the whole discussion is a waste of time, that is in fact an important question, and a very practical one.

That's why I think this is an important issue. I realize it can go wrong when it becomes only a defense of previously held convictions, or when we stop listening to each other, or especially when we start to lose sight of the type of literature we're reading. But the question of whether or not we can trust what Scripture says is a very important one, removed somewhat from the question of angels dancing on pins. If we decide that Scripture can't be trusted fully, that has some pretty huge ramifications on pretty much everything else.

How Scripture Corrects Us All

Ultimately, Scripture corrects those who are conservative, who may sometimes be tempted to fit Scripture within a theological matrix and tame it. We have our propositions and our theologies, and they're important. But the Bible is unmanageable. It's untidy. It stands above our systems and calls for not just systems, but for participation in the theodrama. Eugene Peterson writes:

Within this large, capacious context of the biblical story we learn to think accurately, behave morally, preach passionately, sing joyfully, pray honestly, obey faithfully. But we dare not abandon the story as we go off and do any or all of these things, for the minute we abandon the story, we reduce reality to the dimensions of our minds and feelings and experience. The moment we formulate our doctrines, draw up our moral codes, and throw ourselves into a life of discipleship and ministry apart from a continuous re-immersion in the story itself, we walk right out of the concrete and local presence of God and set up our own shop. (Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places)

In Eat This Book, Peterson writes of the danger of systematizing Scripture:

We obscure the form when we atomize Scripture by dissecting it, analyzing it like a specimen in the laboratory...when the impersonal objectivity of the laboratory technician replaces the adoring dalliance of a lover, we end up with file drawers full of information, organized for our convenience as occasions present themselves. It ceases to function as revelation for us.

Peterson is not opposed to exegesis, which he calls "an act of love," loving "the one who speaks the words enough to want to get the words right." He is, however, concerned with exegetes who see the Bible as a "warehouse of information" or anything other than a "story that is intended to shape our entire lives into the story of following Jesus, a life lived to the glory of God." "Exegesis doesn't take charge of the text and impose superior knowledge on it; it enters the world of the text and lets the text 'read' us."

I believe Peterson is right. It's easy for those of us who are conservative to overly analyze and systematize Scripture. Scripture invites us into a story in which we are a part, but in which we are not the main point, and we can't afford to lose this.

But Scripture also contradicts those who are more liberal, and who may think Scripture is smaller than it actually is. We face the danger of trying to fit Scripture into our world, rather than seeing our world within the much larger world of Scripture. Peterson writes:

Tell-tale phrases give us away. We talk of "making the Bible relevant to the world," as if the world is the fundamental reality and the Bible something that is going to fix it. We talk of "fitting the Bible into our lives" or "making room in our day for the Bible," as if the Bible is something we can add on or squeeze into our already full lives...

As we personally participate in the Scripture-revealed world of the emphatically personal God, we not only have to be willing to accept the strangeness of this world – that it doesn't fit our preconceptions or tastes – but also the staggering largeness of it. We find ourselves in a truly expanding universe that exceeds anything we learned in our geography or astronomy books.

Our imaginations have to be revamped to take in this large, immense world of God's revelation in contrast to the small, cramped world of human "figuring out." (Eat This Book)

Ultimately we all need to be corrected. Some of us need to be saved by imposing standards on Scripture that don't honor it. Some of us try to tame it. Some of us try to make it relevant, as if our world is more relevant than it is.

I wish I had come at the subject differently the other day, but ultimately this is the issue: learning that the world revealed in Scripture is more massive and true than the one we observe with our eyes. The issue is how to learn to live within the world as God has revealed it, rather than "the small, cramped world" we're used to. That's why the issue of Scripture is such an important one, far too important to be relegated to debates only among the theologians.

Love cannot exist in isolation: away from others, love bloats into pride. Grace cannot be received privately: cut off from others, it is perverted into greed. Hope cannot develop in solitude: separated from the community, it goes to seed in the form of fantasies. No gift, no virtue can develop and remain healthy apart from the community of faith. "Outside the church there is no salvation" is not ecclesiastical arrogance but spiritual common sense, confirmed in everyday experience. (Reversed Thunder)

Richview is looking for a couple of students to do some community research, and to help prepare us to serve the community. More info here.

If you know of someone who might be interested, please let them know.

If you can't say it in 22 words, then don't say it at all. It's harder than it looks. I'm loving it.

My Dad died two years ago today.

Some things my Dad taught me: to laugh and have fun; how to give an underdog (pushing someone on a swing while going under them); to go with plan b when plan a doesn't work out (example: deliver pizza if your union goes on strike).

Unfortunately he also taught me what bitterness looks like if you let it take root. He also taught me how to honor a parent who has let his family down, which was probably important for me to learn.

I kind of miss him.

Some preliminary conclusions on theological controversy:

• Some things are worth fighting for. Some things are important and worth discussing, but not worth splitting over. Some thing aren't worth fighting about at all. The trick knowing which issue belongs in which category.
• Everyone has a list of things that are worth fighting for. The only question is what's on the list.
• Here's a short list of what's worth fighting for: the authority of Scripture and the gospel. (UPDATE: See the comments for some clarification.)
• You can and should have things you believe strongly, but remember - these aren't essentials. They're still important though.
• Fighting for something doesn't require nastiness. Honesty and respect go a long way when we disagree.
• Controversy is hard. It's sometimes necessary, but it always takes a toll and we're not supposed to like it.

The preface to Charles Colson's latest book, The Faith, begins with Jude 3: "[I] urge you to contend for the truth that was once for all entrusted to all the saints." Colson writes:

Would you give your life for a cause you didn't fully understand? Would you try to convince someone else to join you? No, neither would I...

Most professing Christians don't know what they believe, and so can neither understand nor defend the Christian faith - much less live it. Many of the things we tell nonbelievers do not represent real Christianity. And most nonbelievers draw their impressions of the Christian faith from the stereotypes and caricatures that popular culture produces.

Colson spends most of the book summarizing the basic truths of Christianity - what C.S. Lewis called "mere Christianity." One of the last chapters is called "The Joy of Orthodoxy." He writes:

True Christians understand that the faith was given once for all and is filled with life and excitement...So how in the world do so many people these days talk about the Christian faith and its doctrines as being dry and brittle? You may say it's frightening, upsetting, life-changing, radical, extreme - but dull and boring, never. Yet that's what some are saying. How can this be?

Colson lists a few of his answers, and I think he's right in his diagnosis. Colson also outlines the joy and transformation that comes from grasping the Gospel. It changes everything.

I'm posting about this book today because I think Colson is on to something. Our job just may be to rediscover Biblical orthodoxy, which is a lot more exciting and transforming than we think. Doctrine isn't just a head-game. The right kind of doctrine will turn our worlds upside down, and if we lose it we're really left with nothing. We certainly won't be left with anything that is transformational at any level.

I think we're seeing a rise in the right type of theologically driven mission - you could call it Gospel-driven mission. It's exactly what we need. We just need more.

In Why We're Not Emerging, Kevin DeYoung writes:

If the emerging church struggles to find a theological center, it struggles even more to define theological boundaries - not just what they are, but whether any exist...

The question is whether the emerging church has the ability to correct its own abuses and challenge the massive theological errors coming from fellow conversation partners. More importantly, the question is whether the emerging church even has the category of theological error. Some do, but many, I fear, do not. As long as we try to live out justice as Jesus modeled and love in community as Jesus taught, that's all that really matters - if the emerging church refuses to stand for more than this, it will quickly lose any semblance of being evangelical, any semblance of being historically orthodox, and eventually any sense of being decidedly Christian.

What do you think of DeYoung's question? Does the emerging church have a category of theological error? This is an honest question. I don't want an attack on the emerging church here; I'd prefer to get an answer from someone who considers themselves to be emerging.

Speak, O Lord, as we come to You
To receive the food of Your Holy Word.
Take Your truth, plant it deep in us;
Shape and fashion us in Your likeness,
That the light of Christ might be seen today
In our acts of love and our deeds of faith.
Speak, O Lord, and fulfill in us
All Your purposes for Your glory.

more (from the album In Christ Alone by Keith & Kristyn Getty - Amazon.com | Amazon MP3 | iTunes)

I didn't have many takers on my question, "What [doctrines] would you put in the essentials list?" So I'm going to go back to a talk by Tim Keller last year at the EMA Conference in the UK called "What is an evangelical?" This might be a good way at getting at the topic of what is essential, even though I know many of us have mixed feelings about the term evangelical.

Why define evangelicalism and draw boundaries?

Keller first dealt with three objections to using the word evangelical and drawing boundaries.

• First, some say the word has had it and is no longer useful. Keller is somewhat sympathetic and doesn't use the word evangelical in New York City because it's frequently misunderstood, but he argues that every other label has the same problems. The label evangelical is just as capable of being misunderstood as all the rest.
• Second, some say we shouldn't draw boundaries because it excludes others. Keller says this carries no weight. You can't avoid drawing lines; the minute you say you're not, you are. The most inclusive groups by definition exclude those who oppose their positions. What matters is how we treat those on the other side of the line.
• Third, some argue that it's a meaningless category because of its breadth. It's so broad it's meaningless. Keller disagrees with this. There are some key doctrines that are important and agreed upon among all of evangelicalism.

What are the evangelical essentials?

Keller lists three using the philosophical category of causes:

• the final full authority and clarity of Scripture (the formal cause, the idea)
• the gospel - that salvation is by sheer grace alone through faith alone in the substitutionary work of Christ alone (the material cause, the raw material)
• in a life of repentance - repentance as a life and not as a one-time event (the efficient cause, the means)

The last point keeps us from living as Pharisees, and ensures that we believe at the level of the heart and not just the head. It works the gospel into our hearts.

My Observations

I think Keller's list isn't what a lot of us would have picked, but I like it. Some will say it includes too much, especially if you have trouble with inerrancy. Others will say it doesn't include enough, although I'd assume it implies belief in other doctrines like Trinity and the deity of Christ.

One thing I really like is that it includes a bit of praxis. The third point applies the other two.

It may be a good place to start. It includes the important points but not much else. Thoughts?