Conversion & Co-mission: A Sermon on Acts 9

Another sermon I did for my preaching class:

(You can watch it here)

My cousin, Eli, just arrived from Jerusalem with terrible news.

Saul is on his way to Damascus.

Yes, that Saul.

Saul, the one who happily watched as the crowds stoned Stephen to death.

Saul, the one who caused all kinds of turmoil for our brothers and sisters in Jerusalem by ravaging their houses, arresting women and men alike, and throwing them into prison.

Saul, the one who breathes threats and murder against all those who follow the Way.

Saul is on his way here.

He has letters from the High Priest granting him the authority to have us arrested and brought to Jerusalem to stand trial for blasphemy.

I know that Jesus always told his disciples “Do not be afraid”. But the truth is that I’m terrified of Saul and what he will do to us.

How are we supposed to follow Jesus’ command to make disciples when the disciples are being persecuted?

What are we going to do?

                                                                                                                    

Although this short vignette is fictional, it is easy to think about what might have been going through the hearts and minds of the first Christians in light of Saul’s persecution of the Church.

How could they not be afraid?

While the text gives us no clear motivation for Saul’s actions, it is clear that Saul is convinced that the followers of the Way pose a threat.

         They claim that Jesus was crucified and rose again.

They claim that Jesus is the Son of God.

         They offer a different interpretation of Torah.

         They are blasphemers and heretics.

Therefore they must be dealt with harshly.

Do you see Saul on a mission, a holy crusade to destroy the Church?

Luke wants us to see that Saul is an enemy of God, someone who does not deserve God’s grace.

                 

Saul assumes that he is doing God’s will.

But then God stops him in his tracks.

Listen to Luke’s description of what happened: “Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him”.

Do you see the irony Luke creates?

Saul is on the road with what he thinks is a God-ordained mission to destroy the followers of the Way. However, it is on the road that he is confronted by the one who calls himself the Way.

Listen to Christ’s words to Saul, the persecutor of the Church.

Listen to Christ’s words to Saul, an enemy of God.

                  “Saul, Saul”

Do you hear Christ call Saul by name?

Do you hear the echo with others whom God has called: “Abraham, Abraham” (Gen. 22:11), “Jacob, Jacob” (Gen. 46:2); “Moses, Moses” (Ex. 3:4)?

In the past, God has called a liar, a cheat, and a murderer to fulfill his purposes.

And now we hear God calling a persecutor and an enemy to fulfill his purposes.

Why would God call a liar, a cheat, a murderer, and, later, someone who would deny him, to fulfill his purposes?

Because God is a God of transforming grace.

Listen to Jesus’ words to Saul and notice what he does not say. Jesus does not say “Why do you persecute my Church?” Jesus says “Why do you persecute me?”

Do you hear Jesus identifying himself with his Church?

The Church; those who are Christ’s body on earth; those who are called to be his hands and feet.

The Church; those whom Christ calls blessed;

“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you…on my account” (Matt. 5:11).

The Church; those who were once God’s enemies, but have been called and transformed by God’s grace to fulfill God’s purposes.

Now, listen to Jesus’ instructions to Saul: “Get up and enter the city and you will be told what you are to do”.

Do you hear Jesus calling Saul to end his persecution of the Church and to await a new mission?

Saul could have pushed back and argued his case. He could have, like Jonah, tried to run away.

But Saul and his companions are at a loss for words. Saul, blinded by Christ’s light, gets up, goes into the city and waits for further instruction.

Do you see Saul’s response of trustful obedience and patient waiting?

Gone is the merciless wrath. Gone is the hatred.

Clearly Saul is a transformed man.

Saul could no longer carry out his original purpose in Damascus; rather he had to be carried into the city for a wholly different purpose.

Listen to Luke’s description of what happens next:

“Saul got up from the ground and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they lead him by the hand and brought him into Damascus”.

Do you see the irony Luke creates once again?

The divine light leaves Saul blind. And yet, as the story continues, we know that when Ananias restores Saul’s sight, Saul is commissioned to bring Christ’s light to the world.

When we are converted, when we are transformed by grace, we learn to see the world through the eyes of the one who is the light of the world.

In Saul’s encounter with Christ, do you hear Christ calling Saul to conversion? Do you hear Christ calling Saul to change his convictions about who Christ is?

         Christ, the one who identifies himself with his people.

Christ, the one who identifies himself with the persecuted.

Although this story is often called “the Conversion of Saul”, there is little in this text that we can identify as a conversion, at least in the typical sense in which it is understood.

Saul does not make a conscious decision for Christ and he does not “get saved”. Saul’s conversion is entirely based on an encounter with the risen Christ.

It is an encounter that transforms Saul’s identity.

Conversion occurs when Christ calls us to himself. Conversion is not something we do; it is something God does to and through us.

Saul’s conversion is pure gift and pure grace.

Saul, who was once an enemy of God, is now forgiven. His past is not held against him. Such is the nature of God’s grace.

         God says to Saul: your failure to follow me is not the final word.

                  God says to us: your failure to follow me is not the final word.

Rather, God says, my grace is sufficient for you. My grace is the final word.

Saul’s conversion, his transformative encounter with Christ, will later allow him to proclaim “It is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Ga. 2:20).

But Saul’s conversion is not simply about conversion. Saul’s conversion is about a commission. You see, conversion always results in a commission.

Listen to what God tells Ananias, who remains skeptical of God’s purposes for Saul. God tells Ananias that Saul “is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before the Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel” (Acts 9:15).

Do you hear Christ giving Saul a commission to proclaim the gospel?

Do you hear the echo of the commission given to Peter in our Gospel reading for today?

Feed my sheep.

Do you hear the echo of the commission given to all who follow the Way?

Take up your cross and follow me.

It is when we take up our crosses that we follow Christ’s commission to the Church.

In taking up our crosses, we identify ourselves with Christ and, therefore, we identify ourselves with those who are persecuted.

In taking up our crosses, we learn to love our enemies with the same love God showed to Saul.

         In taking up our crosses, we remember that Christ died for the persecuted and the persecutors alike.

In taking up our crosses, we anticipate and participate in the transformation of the universe, a transformation that began on Easter morning.

Conversion and commission are both the results of God’s transforming and electing grace, where the Holy Spirit forms us into Christ’s body and sends us to proclaim and embody the good news of God’s love, a love that transforms enemies into friends.

My friends, may you experience the transforming love and grace of Christ Jesus and may you boldly go from this place, taking up your crosses and following Christ to show that same love and grace to the world.

Amen.

John 12:1-8 A Sermon

The following is one of the sermons I prepared for my preaching course.

The text is John 12:1-8.

You can watch the video of the sermon here.

If you prefer to read it, here you go:

 

The house is packed, full of family and friends.

Do you hear the sounds of celebration, of pure joy?

This is a marked change from the sounds of mourning and sadness that filled this same house a few days or weeks ago when Lazarus died.  When Jesus himself wept.

So why now the sounds of celebration?

Lazarus, who was once dead, is now alive and is hosting a party with his sisters, a party in honor of Jesus, the one who brings the dead back to life.

But then something strange happens.

Do you hear the hush descend upon the house as Mary enters the room and approaches Jesus?

Do you hear the whispers?

        Why isn’t she helping Martha serve? Doesn’t she know her place?

Keep your eyes on Mary and what she does next.

She lets down her hair.

Do you hear the whispers becoming more vocal?

This is an outrage! Who does she think is letting down her hair in front of a man who is not her husband! This is not what an unmarried woman does to an unmarried man, in public no less! What a harlot!

Keep your eyes on Mary and what she does next.

        She pours expensive perfume over his feet.

Do you hear the whispers continuing?

What?! Does Mary think she is lower than a servant? Why is she debasing herself in this way?

Do you see what Mary is doing?

        She is performing an act of pure intimacy and vulnerability.

        She is preparing Jesus for his death and burial.

She is anointing Jesus.

Anointing – what the priests did to a king; what Samuel did to David.

But do you notice the difference?

        She does not anoint his head. She anoints his feet.

She is performing the act of a priest and proclaiming that Jesus is King.

But by anointing his feet, she is proclaiming that he is a different kind of king, a king unlike the kings of the world.

The whispers finally become an outburst.

Listen to Judas’ indignant response: “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” Mary has gone overboard! That is way too much money

Do you see the disciples nodding in agreement with Judas?

Yes, he’s right! After all, Jesus didn’t you say that you came to “preach good news to the poor”?

Do you see yourself nodding in agreement with Judas?  

Yes, $12,000 is a lot of money! We could use that money and give it to the food bank, or start a new program, or to pay down our debts so that we can continue to do ministry!

Now listen to Jesus’ response: “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.”

Do you hear the exasperation and anger in Jesus voice?

Mary understands what Judas and the other disciples don’t seem to get because she is willing to approach Jesus with reckless abandon. 

Mary understands that Jesus is a different kind of king, a king who will die so that others may live.

Jesus is a king who brings good news to the poor, releases the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and sets the oppressed free (cf. Luke 4:18).

But what about Jesus’ cryptic response that “you will always have the poor with you but you will not always have me”?

Why does Jesus quote the Torah? (cf. Deut. 15:11) Is Jesus suggesting that he doesn’t care about the poor? That worship is more important than service?

Absolutely not.

Jesus is responding to her priestly anointing.

Jesus is saying to his disciples, look to Mary as an example of how you should treat the poor in my name.

In performing a priestly duty, we see that Mary represents the Church, the people who are called “a royal priesthood” (1 Peter 2:9), those who serve in the name of the servant-king. 

We see Jesus identifying himself with the poor, those whom the Church is called to serve.

A faithful Church is a Church where the poor are always present and always served – both the physically poor and those whom Jesus calls “the poor in spirit”.

Do you see the connection Jesus is making between worship and service?

The poor will always be with the Church when the worship and service of the Church reflect and grow out of each other.

Do you see him weaving the love of God and love of neighbor into a seamless whole?

The Church is called to love its neighbors, particularly the poor, by showing them the same love they show Christ.

With her anointing, Mary shows the Church how to worship and serve.

With the aroma of Mary’s perfume, the stench of death is gone.

Working in the light of the resurrection, the church brings the aroma of life to a world that reeks of death.

May you, Christ’s royal priesthood, be willing to let your hair down in reckless abandon in order to worship and serve Christ.

May the aroma you release be the aroma of Christ for the world.

Amen.

Is Justification Just? Exploring the Link between Election, Justification, and Divine Justice in Reformed Theology

My previous post “Why I Left the Christian Reformed Church” gained a significant amount of attention (over 2,000 views) – more than I anticipated. I’m not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing, but it is what it is. The number of “hits” on the post have dropped off, but, in the past few days, have spiked once again. I heard a rumor that the post is being discussed on a CRC pastors’ facebook group. Perhaps this partially explains the spike.

I suspect that the biggest objection to my previous post will be on that which is near and dear to Reformed folks (and something that is near and dear to me due to their formative influence) – the theology. Reformed pastors love a good theological discussion/debate/disagreement. Unfortunately, in my experience, the norm for critique in these discussions is a form of anti-thetical critique such that those who disagree with “us” have clearly not understood “our” position and the critique takes the form re-trenching previously held positions. I know this because I used to be one of the worst offenders in this regard.

I suspect that I’m taking heat for having not adequately understood Reformed theology, etc., etc. Perhaps. But then again, I studied Reformed theology at the Institute for Christian Studies, what some in CRC-circles consider to be the lunatic fringe.

More recently, I am a student at Wycliffe College at the University of Toronto. One of the papers I wrote last term was on Reformed theology. A number of people asked about it. Although I was (and still am somewhat) reluctant to share it, I did very well on the paper. So, I’m a little less reluctant to share it since my professor gave it his seal of approval.

I offer it here. In so doing I know that I will, in the eyes of some, confirm my theological ignorance of Reformed theology and therefore my theological reasons for living the CRC will be easily rejected. So be it.

Be forewarned, this is an academic paper, so it might be a bit dry. I also apologize for the footnotes – for some reason, clicking on the links will not jump down to the text of the notes, which means a great deal of back and forth scrolling (the footnotes are kind of important…)

So without further ado, here it is…

The doctrine of justification continues to be a matter of debate, both between Roman Catholics and Protestants and among Protestants themselves.  Central to this debate is the importance of justification vis-à-vis Paul’s conception of the gospel.[1]  Represented by the theology of Herman Bavinck, Charles Hodge, and Louis Berkhof, the traditional Reformed understanding of justification is tightly bound to a questionable interpretation of the doctrine of election as double predestination, is framed in juridical terminology that does not follow the logic of Paul’s thought, and is rooted in an understanding of divine sovereignty that necessitates retributive justice against those whom God deems unrighteous.  The Reformed understanding of justification and divine justice rests more on maintaining the internal logic of its own systematic theology than it does on the biblical witness concerning the centrality of justification in Paul’s thought, its relationship to other doctrines, and the restorative nature of divine justice.  Therefore, the traditional Reformed understanding of justification is problematic, especially in terms of its soteriological and eschatological implications vis-à-vis divine justice.

The debate about justification among Protestants remains highly polarized between those who defend Reformation orthodoxy and those who use a different interpretative and theological framework.  In order to understand the tension points of this debate, it is important to understand the theological foundations that shape the arguments of both sides.[2]  This paper will look at how Reformed theology understands justification in terms of the link between election/predestination, the righteousness of God, and the nature of divine justice followed by a brief sketch of some alternative interpretive and theological perspectives that unravel this tight relationship.  Thus, the primary purpose of this paper is a theological summary and critique for the purposes of continuing the discussion rather than breaking new ground.

Part I – Justification is the Gospel: the Reformed Argument

The five points of Calvinism, also known as the ‘doctrines of grace’, are expounded in the Canons of Dordt and summarized by the acronym ‘T.U.L.I.P.’.[3]  Although Reformed theology has many branches, it remains rooted in this 17th century document.[4]  The Canons of Dordt directly shape the Reformed understanding of election, justification, and divine justice as further expounded by Herman Bavinck, Charles Hodge, and Louis Berkhof.[5]  Given that the reformulation of justification was one of the theological legacies of the Reformation, it is not surprising that those traditions in direct genealogical lineage would continue to assert both the uniqueness of the Protestant interpretation of the doctrine, particularly in distinction from the Roman Catholic understanding, and the centrality of justification.  For many Reformed theologians, justification is the essence of the gospel.  Along with other contemporary Reformed theologians, popular Reformed preacher John Piper maintains that justification is “the heart of the gospel”[6] and occurs through the forensic imputation[7] of Christ’s righteousness to the sinner.

Many continue to be puzzled by the apparent arbitrariness and utter injustice of Reformed soteriology and confused by its use of circular reasoning, an incoherence Paul Schraeder memorably depicts in a scene from his 1979 film, Hardcore.[8]  Jake van Dorn, the staunch Dutch Reformed protagonist, makes a telling confession in trying to explain the tenets of Calvinism to a hooker in the Las Vegas airport: “I’ll admit it’s confusing when you look at it from the outside.”[9]  This rather convenient defense is used time and again by Calvinists responding to those who are unable to wrap their heads around the logic and its implications.[10]  Although the criticisms raised in this paper are nothing new to Calvinists, they are offered in the spirit of dialogue.

A. Chosen before I was Born: Election and Justification

Election is what the Reformed scholastics call the decretum absolutum, God’s absolute and unchangeable decree made from eternity.   It remains one of the central doctrines in Reformed theology as is evidenced by its direct connection with other doctrines, particularly justification.  If justification is the heart of the gospel message, then election is the core of Reformed soteriology.  As the Canons of Dordt explain, God “decided to give the chosen ones to Christ to be saved… he decided to grant them true faith in Christ, to justify them”.[11]  In other words, to be elect is to be justified.  Thus, justification and election are correlative in Reformed theology, a fact Bavinck states directly:  “It is the elect who are justified”. [12]  Those who are justified are the elect; the elect are those who are justified. There is ultimately no distinction between them.[13]

According to Louis Berkhof, election has a dual purpose: “the salvation of the elect” and “the glory of God”.[14]  Thus, predestination/election is always unto salvation.  More importantly, election is meant to show God’s sovereignty.[15]  The inverse of election is that “some of the human race were not elected”.[16]  Those who were not elected are the reprobate.[17]  Similar to election, reprobation has a dual purpose: “to pass by some in the bestowal of regenerating and saving grace” and “to assign them dishonor and to the wrath of God for their sins”.[18]  Therefore, as Bavinck concludes, “Christ obtained salvation only for the elect”.[19]  However, this raises the question: why is Christ’s death and resurrection necessary in such a framework whereby salvation is the result of an eternal decree made prior to the creation of time?[20]  .

Because election and justification are two-sides of the soteriological coin, Bavinck claims that “justification is the doctrine on which the church stands or falls”.[21]  Justification is the greatest “of all God’s benefits given in the covenant of grace” because it means “the forgiveness of sins”.[22]  Moreover, the terms ‘justification’ and ‘forgiveness of sins’ are interchangeable.[23]  This means that God’s forgiveness is offered only to the elect.[24]  Only they are made righteous “on the basis of Christ’s righteousness, which is ours through faith”.[25]  However, faith is not a human work, but remains “the gift of God within time”.[26]  Therefore, God is the one who elects, justifies, forgives, and gives faith, and God is the one who reprobates, condemns, blames, and withholds faith.  As Bavinck summarizes, “the elect cannot take the credit; the reprobate cannot blame God”.[27]

Not only is the centrality of election/justification in Reformed soteriology established and God’s defining role in each, but so too are questions regarding the arbitrary nature of God’s election[28] and the apparent limits of God’s forgiveness.  The Reformed response is that God’s election is always just, despite any claims to the contrary.  Election is a matter of God’s “hidden will” and therefore not subject to human speculation.[29]  Because God had reasons for choosing Abel over Cain and Jacob over Esau and his ways are higher than human ways, we are required to accept this selectivity as a mystery and inquire no further.[30]  Such is the scandalous nature of election, something at which we are supposed to marvel and tremble.  Although it is meant to be a doctrine that provides comfort, the Reformed doctrine of election seems to raise more questions than anything else.  Perhaps the absence of questions is a sign of one’s election?

Missiologist Lesslie Newbigin offers an interpretation of election that challenges the traditional Reformed view.[31]  According to Newbigin, the key to understanding the doctrine of election is that “the particular is chosen for the sake of the universal”.[32]  Therefore, election is the “choosing, calling, and sending one to be the bearer of blessing for all” since God “purposes the salvation of all” (71, 72).[33]  Newbigin’s primary concern in this chapter is to ensure that the church has a proper understanding of election so that it does not fall into “the illusion that [it has] a privileged position with God that insures them against disaster”.[34]  Election affirms the “corporate nature of salvation” and confirms that salvation is about “a shared participation in and shared responsibility for God’s created world”.[35]  Although election remains linked to salvation, the primarily purpose of election remains the corporate responsibility of the church to proclaim and participate in the ongoing story of God’s redemption.  The church is therefore in a position to preach not the gospel of justification, but the good news that God, through Christ, has liberated and redeemed the cosmos.  Thus, the gospel is, in effect, an emancipation proclamation that calls all of humanity to gratitude, not for individual election for a selected few, but for what God has done and is doing for his beloved creation.  The elect are called to be “a royal priesthood and a holy nation”, mediators between God and people and ambassadors of God’s kingdom.  With Christ as high priest, the church is a community of priests who are the righteous representatives of God.[36]   Therefore, we can conclude that justification is about empowering the elect to fulfill their calling.

B. God’s Law court: Justification as Acquittal

Reformed theology operates with a juridical/forensic understanding of justification by faith.  Similar to election, justification “takes place once and for all” from “eternity” and both remain gifts from God.[37]  Therefore, a person is never justified “on account of faith” because faith remains “equivalent to…the merits of the righteousness of Christ”.[38]  Justification is a onetime declaration of righteousness where the elect are not declared “godly”, rather their “sins are expiated” and they have “a title founded in justice to eternal life”.[39]  Thus, in distinction from the ‘subjective’ understanding of justification held by the Roman Catholic Church, Reformed theologians emphasize the ‘objective’ nature of justification as “not an ethical but a forensic act”.[40]

Because “the law of God is clear” that “the righteous must be acquitted and the unrighteous condemned” through the imputation of Christ’s righteousness, the elect receive “a verdict of acquittal” and the reprobate are condemned.[41]  This means that “the sins of those who believe are not counted against them”.[42]  Therefore, “justification applies to all sins, past, present, and future, and thus involves the removal of all guilt and of every penalty”.[43]  This forensic understanding of justification is exemplified by “Paul’s theocentric position” where “the law and the expectation of obedience are not set aside”.[44]  The “gift of grace” is thus: “God put Christ forward as a propitiatory sacrifice for our trespasses and Christ was raised for our justification”.[45]  As Bavinck later clarifies, “in justification, not only the merit of Christ’s passive obedience is imputed but also that of his active obedience.  In that benefaction, believers receive forgiveness, exemption from punishment”.[46]  The assumption underlying this forensic understanding of justification is that it indicates moral perfection, an actual ontological state of righteousness that is only achieved through the imputation of Christ’s righteousness on the sinner thereby removing the guilt of sin and granting eternal life.[47]

However, recent scholarship has strongly questioned the forensic understanding of justification, primarily since the language of justification is not nearly as central as Reformed interpreters make it out to be.  Moreover, the traditional assumption about Paul’s language concerning the works of the law is not what Paul had in mind.  In other words, while the Reformed emphasis on God as the sole author of salvation is correct, Paul is not arguing against so-called works righteousness.  Rather, his argument concerns how Gentiles are included among the people of God.  No longer does the Torah restrict God’s righteousness as extended to the Jews only; justification by faith means “liberty, and, most important of all, liberty from the law”.[48]  Therefore, for Paul this liberation is “one of the chief blessings of justification by faith”.[49]

Consequently, not only is justification not central to Paul’s’ thinking, it has little to do with the issues assumed by the traditional Reformed view.  Justification is but a subtheme in the larger issue of participation in Christ.  Therefore, it is necessary to turn our focus onto this main theme because it offers an alternative to the juridical interpretation particularly since Paul’s “in Christ language is much more persuasive in his writings than his talk of God’s righteousness”.[50]  This “in Christ” language refers to a “quite profound sense of participation with others in a great and cosmic movement of God centred on Christ and effected through his Spirit”.[51]  Participation in Christ emphasizes the ongoing experience of sharing in his faithfulness through the acts of discipleship.  Therefore, human faith is neither a matter of mere ‘belief’, nor something that God gives to the elect.  Rather, faith is about the experienced reality of our restored relationship with God through Jesus Christ.[52]  Justification is not an appeasement of God’s righteous wrath, but it is part of what it means to be reconciled with God.  Moreover, justification and, ultimately salvation, is about our participation in Christ’s eschatological victory over the powers and principalities, which liberates us from our bondage to sin.

While the Reformed emphasis on justification as entirely an act of God whereby he extends his grace to humans is commendable for its theocentric focus and avoidance of human-made salvation, it also raises an important question:  if the elect are justified and forgiven because of the gift of faith, can the unrighteous reprobates justly be held accountable for their faithlessness when God is the sole author and originator of election, justification, and faith?  Is it just for God to arbitrarily condemn them when their eternal fate was assigned before time?

C. The Righteous Retributive Justice of God: His Ways are not our Ways

The Canons of Dordt open with an explanation of “God’s right to condemn all people”.[53]  Following Romans 3:19 and 3:23, the Canons explain that “God would have done no one an injustice…to condemn [all of humanity] on account of their sin”.[54]  According to Bavinck, “the question is not whether there will or will not be righteousness or justice with respect to the law of God, but whether we earn that righteousness or receive it as a gift of grace”.[55]  In other words, God remains just in his election and in his condemnation because God remains sovereign over all things, including the salvation and damnation of humanity.  Thus, the lynchpin of Reformed theology is the sovereignty of God, a doctrine that must be defended above all others.  However, it is precisely the Reformed understanding of God’s sovereignty, particularly as it relates to divine justice, where the problematic elements of election and justification are most clearly evident in their implication of the retributive nature of God’s justice such that the elect are saved from eternity, but the reprobate are punished for their faithlessness, for a lack of faith which was never given to them to begin with.

According to Bavinck, “there is no conflict between God’s justice and his love.  God’s justice and wrath are not opposed to grace but in a sense included in it”.[56]  Thus, Christianity ties “justice and love together at the cross”.[57]  God, “who is holy”, did not ignore “the demands of the law”, rather, “he put forward Christ as a means or sacrifice of atonement”.[58]  This reveals God’s righteousness “by which he equitably and justly vindicates the righteous and condemns the wicked”.[59]  It is precisely through the “expiatory sacrifice of Christ” where “both [God’s] justice and grace” are most clearly manifested.[60]  Bavinck concludes that God’s righteousness is “offered as a means of atonement” that “proves God is…able to bestow salvation on his own”.[61]  However, this requires that “although God’s wrath rests on the wicked already, the manifestation of that wrath in all its terror is reserved for the future”.[62]  In other words, “[God’s] justice manifests itself especially in giving every man his due, in treating him according to his desserts”.[63]

Berkhof argues that “divine justice is originally and necessarily obliged to punish evil”, a punishment required for “the maintenance of right of justice”.[64]  Likewise, the Canons of Dordt explain that God’s justice “requires…that the sins we have committed…be punished.”[65]  Therefore, “we cannot escape these punishments unless satisfaction is given to God’s justice”.[66]  Although the elect and reprobate are both “equally guilty”, it is through Christ’s death that “God is merciful to the former and just to the later”.[67]  Consequently, reprobation is “that decree of God whereby He has determined to pass some men by with the operation of His special grace and to punish them for their sin to the manifestation of his justice”.[68]  This punishment “serves God’s justice” in two ways: “it redresses past violation” and “it seeks to prevent future ones”.[69]  Furthermore, punishment is “a powerful proof that only justice has the right to exist, that only God is good and great”.[70]

The nature of God’s justice is always retributive since “retribution…is Scripture’s principle and standard of judgment”.[71]  Therefore, “punitive judgment cannot do without the element of retribution”.[72]  God’s wrath and vengeance are always just, as explained in Romans 1:18 and 12:19.  Indeed, God’s wrath and vengeance are correlative and rooted in his righteous sovereignty.  Therefore, Berkhof concludes:

“The fact that God favors some and passes by others does not warrant the charge that He is guilty of an injustice.  We can speak of injustice only when one party has a claim on another.  If God owed the forgiveness of sin and eternal life to all men, it would be an injustice if He saved only a limited number of them.  But the sinner has absolutely no right or claim on the blessings which flow from divine election”.[73]

Because all the attributes of God, including his righteous justice, are “ultimately grounded in his will as Creator and Lord of all”, God’s decrees and actions proceed from his “absolute freedom” and therefore God is free to do as God pleases.  God can elect whom he wants and condemn who he wants, decrees and actions that are entirely based on God’s sovereign will.  The election of some and the reprobation of others is all part of God’s “secret plan” rooted in the “sole decision of God’s will”.[74]  Therefore, we would do well to remember that “the reason of divine righteousness is higher than man’s standard can measure”.[75]  For Reformed theology, God is pure sovereign will, and this sovereignty is perfectly manifest in his justice.  Whereas God’s mercy elects and justifies, God’s justice condemns the reprobate, those whom God chose for eternal punishment.  Both election and reprobation are manifestations of God’s sovereign grace.

            However, this understanding of divine retributive justice does not correspond with the biblical witness concerning God’s restorative justice.  According to the traditional Reformed understanding, retributive violence is necessary in order to establish and maintain divine justice.  While this emphasis on the divine prerogative of justice is certainly correct, it “does not entail that retribution is a divine imperative”.[76]  In other words, although vengeance belongs to God, “it does not follow that God must execute vengeance upon sinners or else fail to be God”.[77]  If God’ justice is most clearly displayed through the faithfulness of Jesus Christ, then “God’s gracious action in Christ, through the cross, by which we are justified and reconciled, renounces retaliation for the God’s covenant loyalty and justice”.[78]  Therefore, the cross stands as a symbol of God; “retribution-transcending, sinner-redeeming, enemy-reconciling love, justice, and peace”.[79]  The cross is not an instrument to seal the eternal fate of the elect; it is a symbol of God’s justice, a life-giving justice that transforms the entire cosmos and liberates it from bondage to sin and death.  God’s justice is fundamentally about what N.T. Wright calls “putting the world to rights”.[80]

Reformed theology is correct in its assertion that we cannot presume to construct a logic of God’s wrath, or to understand it solely in terms of retribution. Vengeance belongs to God.  However, this does not mean that God takes an eye for an eye, nor does it mean that God remains neutral or unmoved by injustice.[81]  Rather, the Bible gives us a clear picture of a God who cares about justice.  God is not indifferent to evil.  In passages such as Romans 1:18, God’s wrath is directed against “ungodliness and injustice”.  His wrath is an expression of his pathos, his deep care and compassion for his creation.   As Walter Brueggemann explains, “God bears the vengeance of God in order that ‘his’ creation can have compassion”.[82]  Because God has wrought vengeance “in his own person…grace has overcome”.[83]  This is the true meaning of the sovereignty of God’s grace.

Therefore, the justice of the cross anticipates the eschatological justice Christ brings with his return.  God’s “creative justice” remains “quite different from the forms our earthly justice takes.  What we call the Last Judgment is nothing other than the universal revelation of Jesus Christ, and the consummation of his redemptive work”.[84]  The goal of God’s judgment is not retributive punishment of the reprobate, but rather “the restoration of all things for the building up of God’s eternal kingdom”.[85]  The justice that Christ brings is one that takes the reality of sin and death seriously.  His justice aims to give healing to the victims, right the wrong, and to transform the perpetrators, all through this love.[86]  Though this may offend our human sense of justice that often calls out for blood and retaliation, we must defer our sense of human justice and demand for retribution not by projecting them onto God’s justice, but by trusting that God’s justice is exactly what our broken world needs.

Because God did not leave his creation in a state of sin, decay, and death, we can no more expect that he will eternally condemn those whom he created in his own image.  To do so is essentially a form of self-immolation, an unrepeatable act already performed on the Cross.[87]  Surely Christ’s death on the cross and descent into God-forsakenness was precisely so that no one would ever experience these things in eternity.[88]  God took the punishment himself so that none would perish.  The triumph of God’s justice is Christ’s incarnation, his death on the cross, his resurrection, and his Parousia.  The power of God’s justice is indeed “a power that reclaims and renews the whole creation, delivering it from the threat of nothingness…and rendering it transparent to his restorative presence”.[89]

Conclusion

Ultimately, the Reformed conception of God as pure sovereign will is a divine embodiment of Nietzsche’s will-to-power.  This reduces divine freedom to “a kind of ontic voluntarism, and theophany to mere legislation, such that creation and revelation could be imagined only as manifestations of the will of a god who is, at most, a supreme being among lesser beings”.[90]  In other words, although Calvinists claim that God’s ways are higher than human ways, the result is that God becomes a divine monad of sheer power whose actions and decrees remain completely arbitrary and tyrannical.  Therefore, God cannot be absolutely free because God remains bound by the demands of his justice to punish those whom he deemed reprobate, a punishment that necessarily displays his absolute power.  Thus, this God is an “omnipotent despot who not only ordains the destiny of souls, but in fact predestines the first sin, and so brings the whole drama of creation and redemption to pass (including the eternal perdition of the vast majority of human) as a display of his own dread sovereignty”.[91]

Ultimately, this view of God cannot help but lead to nihilism because it engenders a profound hopelessness as the result of an anxious fixation with one’s status before God that will remain unconfirmed until the Second Coming of Christ.[92]  In spite of the argument that the Reformed doctrine of election is meant to bring comfort since one’s salvation cannot be lost, neither can it be fully confirmed on this side of eternity either, leading to an overwhelming and unhealthy fear of God.  For many Christians, Christ becomes the object of attachment in order to shelter us from the abusive and vengeful Father.  Moreover, the Reformed understanding of predestination is essentially a form of fatalism, albeit a divinely directed fatalism that leaves people with no real ethical responsibilities since human freedom is an illusion.  As the orchestrator of all things temporal, the God posited by Calvinists is essentially the same as Aristotle’s Unmoved Mover, an indifferent deity interested in self-glorification.

Although Calvinists are quick to point out that we should not question God, this is a convenient strategy that equates their theology with divine fiat.  Therefore, the questions I raise here are not meant to question God, but to question the Calvinist understanding of God.  It remains unclear why the damnation of the majority of humans is necessary for the maintenance of divine justice.  What kind of God would make his creation the object of his wrath such that he would eternally punish them for the sake of his own self-glorification and holiness?   Surely, an omnipotent God is able to act freely.  Moreover, if the defining attribute of God is love rather than power, as evidenced in his covenant faithfulness and in sending his Son, God will always act according to his character.  This is not to suggest that the alternative to the Calvinist understanding of election is necessarily universalism, but to argue along with the Calvinists, that salvation belongs to God alone.[93]  However, the difference is that we must learn to live within the tension of the biblical witness between texts that speak of the real possibility of being cut off from Christ and those that speak of universal redemption.

Furthermore, because Calvinists hold that these decrees and actions are from eternity and remain unchangeable, the incarnation and atonement of Jesus Christ are superfluous.  In the end, Jesus’ death was necessary not to save us from sin, but to save us from the Father.  Jesus is reduced to a model of the righteous life for our earthly sojourn and someone who “fills in the gaps of our knowledge…concerning the means of salvation, but he tells us nothing of the nature of this salvation”.[94]  Rather, he “merely fulfills a divine decision regarding salvation that is made apart from him in eternity”.[95]  In other words, Jesus is “an afterthought, a mere instrument for the sake of accomplishing redemption of the elect”.[96]  However, if Christ is the self-revelation of God, then T.U.L.I.P. and the God it depicts is completely at odds with the God of love revealed in and through Jesus Christ.

Although one often hears Reformed theologians speak of the “sovereignty of grace”, it seems that a better phrase to describe their theology is the “grace of sovereignty”, a grace that is displayed in mercy to the elect and punishment of the reprobate.  However, the need of Reformed theology to maintain God’s sovereignty is misplaced particularly since this is something that God is perfectly capable of doing.  However, in Reformed theology, God is made into a tyrant in order to protect his sovereignty.  Furthermore, if Christ is the clearest revelation of God, then it would seem that God is not interesting in maintaining his sovereignty and justice, but is willing to forsake them for the sake of saving and redeeming the cosmos (cf. Philippians 2). Contrary to the Calvinist conception of sovereignty as pure will-to-power, divine sovereignty is kenotic and cruciform.

The Reformed adage ‘ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda’ applies equally to the theology of the tradition as much as it does to its ecclesial practices.  This paper sought to highlight the problematic relationship of election and justification vis-à-vis divine justice within Reformed theology and briefly sketch some alternative interpretations in order to unravel this tightly-bound set of doctrines.  By unraveling this doctrinal set, it is possible to affirm the Reformed emphasis on God as the sole source of salvation and the divine judge who brings his justice.  However, the nature of divine justice in traditional Reformed understanding cannot be considered just even within its own paradigm, precisely because the justice it suggests merely propagates the very problem that plagues the world.  God cannot have the final word in a cosmos where evil and suffering continue to echo for an eternity in the fires of hell perpetuating an eternal form of deathless death.  If Paul is correct in 1 Corinthians 15 that the last enemy to be destroyed is death, and that God will become all in all when all things are subjected to God, then the victory of the cross where all are made alive in Christ remains the source of divine justice and provides the shape of our hope in Christ.


[1] It is also important to note the theological overlap of atonement and justification since both deal with salvation and redemption.  Thus, one’s understanding of the atonement will bear on one’s understanding of justification and vice-versa.

[2] To be clear, this polarization is for heuristic purposes.   Just as within the Reformed tradition where there are subtle differences of interpretation, so too are differences within the so-called “New Perspective on Paul”.  However, the internal differences notwithstanding, the Reformed tradition, as a whole, is essentially unified in terms of its understanding of justification.

[3] This acronym was later developed as a heuristic tool and mnemonic device as follows:

- Total Depravity – all humans have a propensity to evil and are incapable of good.

- Unconditional Election – God has chosen a certain number of people, the elect, to be saved.  God chose the elect from the beginning of time.

- Limited Atonement – only the elect will be atoned for and therefore saved.

- Irresistible Grace – God’s grace cannot be rejected or denied

- Perseverance of the Saints – once elected by God, one will remain one of the elect

[4] Calvinist theologians will point to Augustine as the root of their theology.  While Calvin was highly influenced by Augustine, an influence that continues to resonate in Reformed circles today, Calvin, and those who follow in his footsteps, remain thoroughly shaped by the Reformation.  As a result, their reading of Augustine is through a Reformed lens.  The Canons of Dordt, along with the various catechisms and documents composed in the years following the Reformation (for example, the Heidelberg Catechism, the Belgic Confession, the Westminster Confessions, etc.), are the articulation of a distinctly Reformed theology.  Within confessional traditions, such as the one I was raised in (the Christian Reformed Church of North America), doctrinal adherence to the “Three Forms of Unity” (The Canons of Dordt, the Heidelberg Catechism, and the Belgic Confession) is mandatory for all those holding church office (minister, elder, and deacon).

[5] Bavinck and Berkhof were chosen because they remain two of the most influential Reformed theologians in Dutch Reformed thinking; their books are required reading in some Reformed seminaries.  Charles Hodge was chosen because although he represents a different branch of Reformed theology (the Presbyterian/Westminster branch), his thinking on justification is almost identical to that of Bavinck and Berkhof.  This paper intentionally focuses on Calvinists rather than Calvin given the complexity and nature of Calvin’s thought.  In the Institutes, Calvin is less interested in developing a systematic theology than he is in engaging a number of his contemporary interlocutors.  Furthermore, the fact that the Institutes expanded and went through a number of editions over time is a testimony to the evolution in Calvin’s thinking and emphasizes the pastoral nature of the book (much like Paul’s letters).  On the other hand, those who used Calvin’s work as a basis for their own theological systems are much more direct and consistent in their arguments.  Therefore, a straightforward engagement with their work is possible.

[6] According to Scot McKnight, Piper goes so far as to equate justification with the gospel; cf. McKnight, King Jesus Gospel, Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011, p.25ff. Although justification is a Pauline concept, John Piper, in answering the question “did Jesus preach Paul’s gospel”, says that, yes, “Jesus preached justification”.  Apparently, justification is also part of Christ’s gospel.

[7] In distinction from Catholic understandings which emphasize impartation.

[8] Calvin had his detractors.  Indeed, the Canons of Dordt were written in response to the teaching of Jacob Arminius.

[9] The film was written and directed by Paul Schraeder, someone who grew up in the Dutch Reformed tradition represented in the film.  Thus, van Dorn’s explanation of his beliefs is no mere characterization, but represents the doctrinal content of Calvinism.  I should add that my interest in the subject matter of this paper is as a former ‘insider’ in the stream of Calvinism represented by van Dorn.  Even when I was ‘inside’, it was all very confusing, but one was not allowed to ask questions about the logic of the belief system.  Now, as an ‘outsider’ looking in, I am in a place to ask these questions.  Cf. Richard Mouw’s recent attempt to explain the five points of Calvinism with “gentleness and respect” in his Calvinism in the Las Vegas Airport, Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004.  While Mouw achieves this gentleness and respect in his explanation, the logic of Calvinism remains.  Like all good apologists, Mouw winsomely defends his tradition.  While Mouw certainly offers a kinder, gentler, Calvinism, in the end, he, like Jake van Dorn, remains an ‘insider’ and therefore ends up preaching to the choir.  The audience of ‘outsiders’ will undoubtedly have the same reaction as the hooker to whom Jake van Dorn was explaining Calvinism: “I thought I was f***ed up!”

[10] For example, in engaging with Calvinists, the claim is often made that if one is not in full accordance with the Canons, that she has either misread them or is dealing with ‘straw men’.  Apparently, the only way to fully understand the Canons is to fully agree with them.

[11] “The Canons of Dordt”, Ecumenical Creeds and Reformed Confessions Grand Rapids: CRC Publications, 1988, p. 124.

[12] Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics: Abridged in One Volume, Grand Rapids: Baker, 2011, p. 561.  The same applies for those who convert to Christianity, for they are among the elect: cf. Canons of Dordt, Article 11, p. 134.  Thus, the point of evangelism is to help the elect self-identify as elect.  However, if one is not elect, conversion is impossible.  If the salvation of the elect is unalterable regardless of if one is aware of their election or not and if conversion is only possible for those who are elect to begin with, evangelism is an unnecessary activity.  As a parishioner at a Reformed church once shared with me, “we don’t need to do evangelism because the doors of the church are always open.  If someone is one of the elect, the will find their way to us”.

[13] The scriptural basis for this is Romans 8:30.  Indeed, the rest of chapter 8 through to the end of chapter 11 serves as the biblical foundation for the Reformed doctrine of election.  However, this raises the question of whether of not this serves to isolate this section from the rest of Romans, thus taking it out of the context of the argument of the entire letter and elevating it above the rest of the letter.  Cf. Ephesians 1:4-6.

[14] As Berkhof explains, the second purpose is the “final aim” of election such that “even the salvation of men is subordinate to this”.  Louis Berkhof, Systematic Theology, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1949 edition, p. 115.  The order of Berkhof’s dogmatics is quite telling.  Following his discussion of the doctrine of God, Berkhof immediately launches into the doctrine predestination.  Even Calvin did not ascribe such a position to predestination in the Institutes.

[15] “The elect are justified by God so that they would glory in him and in nothing else”.  Reformed Dogmatics, p. 561.

[16] Louis Berkhof, Manual of Christian Doctrine, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1933, p 91.

[17] Berkhof defines the doctrine of reprobation as “that eternal decree of God whereby He had determined to pass some men by with the operations of his special grace, and to punish them for their sin, to the manifestation of his justice”.  Systematic Theology, p. 115.  Cf. “Predestination includes two parts, namely, election and reprobation, the predetermination of both the good and the wicked to their final end”.  Berkhof, Manual, p. 11.  Likewise with Hodge: “the death of Christ had a reference to his people, whose salvation it rendered certain, which it had not to others whom, for infinitely wise reason, God determined to leave to themselves”.  Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, Volume 2, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1973 edition, p. 547.

[18] Berkhof, Systematic Theology, p. 116.  The “some” used by Berkhof is a bit of an understatement.

[19] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 529 (my emphasis).  Moreover, Bavinck later explains, “the elect are justified by God so that they would glory in him and in nothing else” (p. 561).  Although Reformed theologians often speak of the elect as a group, the focus remains on the individual.  Election in this understanding is highly individualistic.

[20] The answer, according to T.U.L.I.P., has to do with the total depravity of man.  However, as attested by the doctrine of ‘unconditional election’ and ‘the perseverance of the saints’, because election is a divine decree it remains in effect, the sinfulness of humans notwithstanding.

[21] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 563.

[22] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 533.

[23] Cf. p. 669 in Reformed Dogmatics.

[24] In his argument, Bavinck’s primary concern is to maintain that “it is always God and he alone who grants forgiveness”.  Reformed Dogmatics, p. 555.

[25] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 556.

[26] Article 6, “The Canons of Dordt”, p. 123.  Likewise, “faith…flows forth from election” (Article 9, p. 125).  Cf. Article 7, p. 130.

[27] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 251.  The logic of this claim, theocentric or otherwise, is simply mind-boggling.  So too, the Canons of Dordt, “the decision of reprobation…does not at all make God the author of sin…but rather its fearful, irreproachable, just judge and avenger” (Article 15, p. 126).  However, this seems to run counter to Calvin’s claim in the Institutes III, 23, 7 where, because of his perfect knowledge, God foreknew that the world would fall into sin.  Moreover, not only did God know this, God willed and permitted it to be so (cf. III, 23, 8).

[28] Cf. Canons of Dordt, “Those chosen were neither better nor more deserving than others…and so [God] decided to give the chosen ones to Christ to be saved…in other words, he decided to grant them true faith in Christ, to justify them [and] to sanctify them” (Article 7, p. 124).   While the argument rightly underlines God as the sole originator of salvation, the means by which this salvation is effected through arbitrary selection remains highly questionable, not because some humans are more deserving of salvation than others, but rather because all humans need salvation.

[29]  Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 211ff.

[30] Contrary to Wolterstorff’s conclusion that in Romans 9 Paul is “not talking about who God ultimately justifies’ he’s talking about the fact that God chooses certain people and certain persons for a special role in the story line of redemption.  He’s not talking about divine strategy; he’s talking about divine tactics”, Justice in Love, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011, pp. 267-8.

[31] It should be added that Newbigin was part of the Reformed tradition himself, serving in the United Reformed Church.

[32] The Open Secret, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1995 ed., p. 68.

[33] This choosing is “in Christ” such that “there is no election apart from Christ” The Open Secret, p. 71.  It is important to note Newbigin’s extended discussion on the nature of biblical universalism found on pp. 79-81, summarized as follows: “Salvation is making whole and therefore concerns the whole” but “this universalism also takes absolutely seriously the freedom and responsibility that God has given to every human being, and therefore it acknowledges the necessity of judgment and the possibility of rejection” (The Open Secret, p. 80, 81).

[34] The Open Secret, p. 73.  No one, whether elect or not, has any claim on God because God retains his “sovereign freedom” (76).  Cf. the discussion of God’s sovereignty as will-to-power in the conclusion of this paper.

[35] The Open Secret, p. 76, 77.

[36] Cf. Suzanne McDonald, Re-Imaging Election, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010 for a sustained reflection on election as representation.

[37] Berkhof, Systematic Theology, p. 513, 517.  Cf. the discussion on p. 517ff where Berkhof outlines his grounds for the doctrine of justification from eternity.  Cf. Bavinck, pp. 566-567 where he discusses election as the eternal decree and justification as the outworking of this eternal declaration in time.

[38] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 520, 521.  As Bavinck explains, “Faith is not the material or formal cause of justification; it is the very act of accepting Christ and his benefits” (567).  However, as previously mentioned, faith remains a gift from God.  Likewise, Berkhof: “faith is never represented [in Scripture] as the ground of our justification…faith then is equivalent to the contents of faith, that is, to the merits of the righteousness of Christ”.  Systematic Theology, p. 521.

[39] Hodge, Systematic Theology, p. 142.

[40] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p.555.  Cf. Hodge, Systematic Theology, p. 119ff.  To be clear, Bavinck warns that “overemphasizing the objective forensic character of justification and tying it to election…opens the door to reducing faith to a passive vessel of the eternally imputed righteousness of Christ”, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 562.  Bavinck wants to highlight the tension between the objectivity of divine initiative in salvation and the subjective human response.  Drawing on Luther, Bavinck argues that the subjective element of justification is a process of responding to the divine gift of salvation through obedience in the life of faith (cf. discussion on pp. 553-570).  However, the subjective human response cannot grant salvation.  Thus, the objective declaration of God remains central.

[41] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, pp. 564, 565.  Just as reprobation is the inverse of election, condemnation is the inverse of justification.  Thus, Hodge explains: “In condemnation is it a judge who pronounces sentence on the guilty.  In justification it is a judge who pronounces or declares the person arraigned free from guilt and entitled to be treated as righteous”.  Systematic Theology, Volume 3, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1973 edition, p. 122 (cf. also p. 548 of volume 2).  The Reformed understanding of justification in juridical terms becomes clear.  However, one must ask whether or not Hodges’ metaphor holds given that a in a court of law, a judge does not pronounce anyone “as righteous”.  A judge may find a defendant ‘not guilty’; however, it must be remembered that innocence is a prerequisite in any courtroom, until evidence proves otherwise.  This is not the case in the Calvinist courtroom where all stand guilty and are awaiting either justification or condemnation and the sentence, a verdict and sentence which were determined prior to the court case.  The point is that the juridical metaphor favored by Reformed theologians does not hold because, like all solid metaphors, it requires a correspondence to reality.  The connection in this metaphor is tenuous at best.  Nicholas Wolterstorff argues that the language used in forensic understandings of justification are problematic because “acquitting and pardoning, declaring innocent and forgiving, are not only distinct but incompatible”.  Justice in Love, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011, p. 258.  The title of this paper is influenced a chapter in Wolterstorff’s book entitled “What is Justification and is it Just?” (pp. 258-282).

[42] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 565.

[43] Berkhof, Systematic Theology, p. 514.  So too Bavinck, “the forgiveness that is part of justification is nothing less than the complete acquittal of all the guilt and punishment of sin, not only of past and present but also of future sins”.  Reformed Dogmatics, p. 568.

[44] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 555.

[45] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 565.

[46] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 716.

[47] In a nutshell, the ordo salus of Reformed theology is election-justification-sanctification-glorification, where election is the pre-temporal divine decree that selects those who will be justified, sanctified, and, when Christ returns, glorified.  As Berkhof explains “glorification connects up immediately to justification.  Being justified by faith, believers are heirs of life eternal”.  Systematic Theology, p. 516.

[48] James Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998, p. 388.

[49] Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle, p. 389.

[50] Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle, p. 391.

[51] Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle, p. 404.

[52] As Kathryn Tanner notes: “what justification refers to in us is the fact of our unity with him, our incorporation within his own life, which brings about our being born again to a new identify with him”.  Christ the Key, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010, p. 86.  For two interesting interpretations of justification as a process of theosis, see Michael Gorman, Inhabiting the Cruciform God, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009 and Veli-Matti Karkkainen, One with God: Salvation as Deification and Justification, Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2004.

[53] Article 1, p. 123.

[54] Article 1, p. 123.

[55] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 555.

[56] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 437.

[57] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 533.

[58] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 564.  Cf. Berkhof where God’s righteousness is “closely related to the holiness of God”, Systematic Theology, p. 74.

[59] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 206.

[60] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 437, (my emphasis).

[61] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 437 (my emphasis).

[62] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 207.

[63] Berkhof, Systematic Theology, p. 75.

[64] Berkhof, Systematic Theology, p. 75, 76, (my emphasis).

[65] “Canons of Dordt”, Article 1, p. 130 (my emphasis).  Cf. Answer 12 of the Heidelberg Catechism, “God requires that justice be satisfied.  Therefore the claims of justice must be paid in full, either by ourselves or another”.  Ecumenical Creeds and Reformed Confessions, p. 17.  My emphasis.  Apparently, Christ pays the claims of justice for the elect, but not for the reprobate who must pay for themselves.

[66] “Canons of Dordt”, Article 1, p. 130.

[67] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 251.  Cf. Answer 11 of the Heidelberg Catechism, “God is merciful, but he is also just.  His justice demands that sins, committed against his supreme majesty, be punished with supreme penalty – eternal punishment of body and soul”.  Ecumenical Creeds and Reformed Confessions, p. 16.

[68] Berkhof, Manual of Doctrine, p. 91.

[69] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 380.  However, it remains unclear how punishment of the reprobate is accomplished, especially since Bavinck neglects to give an explanation.

[70] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 383.  Although Bavinck acknowledges that it is possible that eternal punishment is “inconsistent with the goodness and love of God”, he concludes that “if it is not inconsistent with the justice of God, it is not and cannot be inconsistent with his goodness either” because “if a thing is just, it is also good”.  As a result, “goodness that nullifies justice is no longer true and real goodness.  It is mere human weakness and wimpiness and…in no way corresponds to the true and living God who has revealed himself in Scripture as well as in nature”.  Bavinck maintains that the doctrine of eternal punishment is the only valid biblical interpretation because it is the only interpretation that takes seriously “the integrity of the justice of God and the deeply sinful character of sin”.  Reformed Dogmatics, p. 763.  However, as we will see, Bavinck drastically overstates his case.

[71] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 381.

[72] Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, p. 383.

[73] Berkhof, Systematic Theology, p.115.  Cf. Bavinck, “God does not act arbitrarily or capriciously with his creatures but covenantally in grace with his people” (my emphasis).  Reformed Dogmatics, p. 208.  However, once again, the emphasis on God’s people, his elect, underscores the limited scope of justification and salvation.  Thus, this argument fails to defend God from the charge of arbitrariness vis-à-vis the reprobate.  Furthermore, the shape of the covenant in Genesis 9 indicates that humans do in fact have a claim on the promises of God.  Indeed, the shape of all divine and human covenants in the Bible, particularly the Abrahamic covenants, indicates a right and claim on God through the covenantal relationship.

[74] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960, Book III, Chapter, 23, section 2, p. 949.

[75] John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960, Book III, Chapter, 23, section 4, p. 951.  Cf. Romans 9:20.

[76] Darrin Snyder Belousek, Atonement, Justice, and Peace, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012, p.415.

[77] Belousek, Atonement, Justice, and Peace, p. 415.

[78] Belousek, Atonement, Justice, and Peace, p. 73.

[79] Belousek, Atonement, Justice, and Peace, p. 73.

[80] Wright uses the phrase throughout his book Simply Christian, New York: HarperOne, 2010.

[81] One need only look to Jesus’ words regarding the lex talionis to sense God’s rejection of retributive justice.

[82] Walter Brueggemann, Praying the Psalms, Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2007, p. 77

[83] Brueggemann, Praying the Psalms, p. 80.

[84] Moltmann, The Coming of God, p. 250.  Therefore, the Last Judgment is truly part of the Gospel message, not in the sense of the gospel-at-gun-point, but the reality of God’s healing and renewing of all things.  Cf. Moltmann, Son of Righteousness Arise!  Minneapolis: Fortress Press, esp. chapter 13.

[85] Moltmann, The Coming of God, p. 251.

[86] The fact that everyone is both a victim and agent of sin underlines our bondage to the principalities and our need for liberation.

[87] Cf. Moltmann, The Crucified God, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1974.

[88] However, hell on earth remains a present reality while we, along with creation (cf. Romans 8), await the Second Coming.

[89] Christopher Holmes, Ethics in the Presence of Christ, New York: T & T Clark, 2012, p. 63.

[90] David Bentley Hart, The Beauty of the Infinite, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2003, p. 133.

[91] Hart, The Beauty of the Infinite, p. 134.  Cf. also his The Doors of the Sea, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005, where Hart deconstructs Calvinist theodicy.

[92] As a former pastor in a Reformed church, I can speak to the nearly paralyzing uncertainty many Reformed folks live with in terms of ascertaining whether or not they and/or their loved ones are among the elect.  Attending church becomes the primary way of gauging whether or not one is elect.  The failure to attend church, regardless of whether one is involved in the life of the congregation, is often viewed as the cardinal sin.  Even if one slept through and entire service, it would matter little, so long as they were physically in the church building.  On the other hand, there are those who develop such a certainty regarding their election that they develop a smug sense of superiority to the point where, as one Reformed parishioner told me, “I am unconcerned about the spiritual state of my neighbor.  That is entirely between them and God.  I know I am one of God’s chosen and the only relationships I need to worry about are those with my fellow Christians”.

[93] Cf. David Congdon, “The Problem with Double Predestination and the Care for a Christocentric-Missional Universalism”, Testamentum Imperium, vol. 2, 2009, pp. 1-15 where he argues that the only two biblically and theologically viable views are double predestination and universalism.  Cf. Moltmann, The Coming of God, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996: “Universal salvation and a double outcome of judgment are therefore both well attested biblically.  So the decision for the one or the other cannot be made on the ground of ‘scripture’”, p. 241.

[94] Congdon, “The Problem with Double Predestination and the Care for a Christocentric-Missional Universalism”, p. 6.

[95] Congdon, p. 7.

[96] Congdon, p. 9.

Why I Left the Christian Reformed Church

I am reticent to share my reasons for leaving the Christian Reformed Church because it leaves me open to the possibility that my reasons, theological or otherwise, will be subject to criticism, dismissal, or misinterpretation by those who remain faithful to that tradition. Such is their prerogative. I completely understand this response: it is a natural tendency to get defensive when something one cherishes is questioned. However, I need to get some of this off my chest in order to move on.

I know that some have responded negatively to my departure. There are those who thought that I was leaving too publically such that other young adults might decide to follow me out while others claimed that I was taking the easy way out instead of being an agent of positive change.

Perhaps these responses hold some water.

Young adults are leaving the CRC. However, this is something that is happening across denominations. So, this phenomenon has little to do with me personally. Therefore, my decision to leave is not the cause of the problem. Furthermore, it is very difficult for a pastor to leave a church and a denomination without it becoming public knowledge. For my part, I left as quietly as I could. This post comes five months after I resigned as pastor and withdrew my membership from the CRC.

It is correct to so that I have thrown in the towel in trying to be an agent of positive change in the Canadian CRC. Yet, I did so because I realized that the effort was too taxing on me personally and spiritually. The conflict, personal attacks, and criticism I along with the senior pastor and council faced while trying to lead a re-visioning process was agonizing and disheartening. It was a process that was bathed in prayer as we sought to align ourselves with God’s activity in our neighborhood. Only the Holy Spirit  causes transformation; if people are not in step with the Spirit, then transformation cannot occur. In my experience in three CRC congregations, I have seen this transformation occur in individuals, but I did not see it occur on a congregational or denominational level. Maybe I am being impatient. Yet, in my experience, the Canadian CRC is very good at rearranging the furniture and putting on fresh coats of paint. However, this can only cover-up underlying problems for so long especially when we continue to ignore the Spirit’s leading.

I realize that this is quite a damning statement to which many will take offense. However, for all the imploring of God’s will and discernment that takes place, the fact is that the issues around which the Canadian CRC needs to change continue to be subject to discussion after discussion and meeting after meeting with little or no fruit. Structural tweaks and changes are suggested. Administrative solutions are assumed to be the fix-all. But the result is always the same: those who are leading the charge for change are getting burnt out and frustrated with short-sightedness precisely because the structural problems are rooted in spiritual problems.

From my perspective, the root of the spiritual problem lies in a complete and utter unwillingness to allow the Holy Spirit to completely transform everything. This is not to say that everything in the Canadian CRC is broken and needs to be changed. The problem is the stubborn refusal to offer up everything at our disposal and place it into God’s hands to do what he wants and to align ourselves with the new things that he is doing (cf. Isaiah 43:19).

Some may read this as an unfair attack on the CRC based on sour grapes.

However, I don’t have any sour grapes regarding the CRC.

The CRC is the tradition in which I was raised, a formation for which I remain grateful. So, the CRC will always retain a place in my heart, largely because of the wonderful people I’ve met and because of the way the Reformed theology influenced by thinking. Furthermore, I wish the Christian Reformed Church nothing but God’s blessings on its future. There are some potentially fruitful developments occurring that may be catalysts for Spirit lead and driven transformation.

Rather, my rationale for leaving has to do more with prayerful reflection and struggle over my time as a member and lay pastor in the denomination. Everyone has different experiences and interprets those experiences differently. Over the span of my 32 years in the Canadian CRC, it became increasingly clear that it could no longer be my spiritual, theological, or ecclesial home for a number of different reasons, reasons that are rooted in my own perspective and experiences. I know there are some who will vehemently disagree with my assessment and some who will claim that I am being overly negative, and I accept their response for what it is. There are those who continue to be nurtured and blessed by the CRC and for that we can and should be thankful.

But the fact remains that the CRC is no longer my home.

1. Matter of Prayer

I have always struggled with prayer, not the act of praying in terms of the finding the words to say, but in terms of what it means to pray as a Calvinist. I mean, if God has preordained everything from eternity, then what is the point of prayer? Is it merely something that we are supposed to do as good Christians, so we best get on with it as an act of grateful piety? These are the kinds of questions that I was asked time and again by students who were struggling with what it means to pray.

I realize that there are sophisticated theological arguments to these questions, arguments with which I am quite familiar, so I’m not going to bother re-hashing them here. The point is, these theological arguments notwithstanding, growing up in the CRC I had the sense that prayer didn’t really matter. It was something that good families did before and after meals and, of course, there was the really long laundry-list prayer on Sunday mornings. Ultimately, I concluded that prayer was ultimately an act of submission to whatever God has predestined. Don’t get me wrong – submission is certainly part of prayer, but I think that it is submission in service of aligning ourselves with what God is up to in the world, not resignation to predetermined facts.

The fact of the matter is that the CRC is not a praying church. This is attested to by senior leadership in the denomination and was the primary rationale for creating the Annual Prayer Summit. This recognition is important and the commitment to hosting events like the Prayer Summit is wonderful and hopefully serves as a signpost for the future direction of the denomination. The question is – how will this influence and impact congregations?

In my experience in worship services, prayer is a PA system for the congregation to catch-up on the list of folks who may be sick or in some kind of trouble. Moreover, when I’ve lead services, I would always ask the elder of service if he (it was always a he) would lead the congregational prayer. The answer was always “no, I don’t feel comfortable”. Perhaps this was due to a fear of praying in public, but if an elder, charged with the spiritual leadership of a congregation, cannot pray in front of his church family, the people he is to lead, then the church has a problem. The same applied to council meetings. Opening prayer was mandatory (which is a good thing), but when it came to discussing issues, particularly contentious issues, there was never a sense that we should stop our deliberations and pray. More time was spent talking to/with/at each other than listening to God. Consequently, many poor decisions were made that negatively impacted the congregation.

Others may have different and more positive experiences in terms of prayer in the CRC, and that is a good thing. For me, my positive experience was praying every day for 40 days with a small group of folks, a group that continued to meet once per week after the 40 days was over. It was an enriching experience.

Did I let my negative experience cloud over the positive experience? Perhaps. However in terms of my personal prayer experience, I prayed “God, show me what next. Show me what you want me to do and where you want me to be. But please make it clear because I’m kinda dense!” Over time, it became increasingly clear that God was calling me to move on, that he was calling me away from the CRC. Was this call to move on merely wishful thinking on my part? Absolutely not. The decision to leave the CRC was bathed in prayerful struggle; I never once asked God to release me from the CRC or assumed that he wanted me to leave. But God’s answer was clear that it was time for me to move on.

2. Matter of Calling

Since my third year of university, I knew that God was calling me to be a pastor. I remember the exact place I was when I heard God tell me I was to become a pastor. I’m not given to these sorts of experiences and I am usually rather skeptical of them, and yet the call was crystal clear. So, when I completed my undergraduate degree, I visited Calvin Seminary, but I never ended up applying. Something did not feel right. It wasn’t the people, it wasn’t the place itself. The school remains a great place to study theology and has taken an exciting new direction in terms of how it prepares pastors for ministry.  However, God made it clear that I was not to go to Calvin Seminary. This was something with which I struggled because it seemed so antithetical to God’s calling me to be a pastor, after all, CRC pastors are required to study at Calvin Seminary at some point.

To make a long story short, I felt (and continue to feel) highly inadequate for this call. Who am I to be a pastor? So, in what I perceived to be a detour to avoiding the call, I studied theology and philosophy at the Institute for Christian Studies for two years before teaching in Japan for another two years. Upon our return to Canada, I realize that I couldn’t avoid the call any longer. Indeed, my experiences at I.C.S. and in Japan were highly formative for my work as a pastor. I took my first job at a CRC church as Pastor of Youth and Outreach. It was an eye-opening experience, partly because I had never worked in and for a church before. Sure, I had lots of volunteer experience, but I had never been on staff. There were some wonderful experiences serving at that church along with some very difficult ones. Such is the life of anyone in pastoral ministry. Through the ups and downs, the sense of the call remained and members of the congregation confirmed this call. I was convinced that following my time at that church that I would be heading to seminary.

Instead, I ended up taking a call to another church to be their Director of Youth and Family Ministry. Again, there were many wonderful experiences and some very difficult ones. In fact, I was told that the negative experiences I suffered through were perhaps some of the most trying and strenuous that pastors go through. Through it all, the sense of the call remained and was confirmed by members of the congregation. I was convinced that following my time at that church that I would be heading to seminary. This time, my hunch was correct. I resigned from my position and began M.Div. studies at Wycliffe College.

However, for about a year before starting my seminary studies, I knew that my calling was not to be a pastor in the CRC. I didn’t know what that meant. I tried to convince myself that God was testing me, that he wanted me to refuse such a ludicrous sentiment. But that was not the case. It became clear that God was calling me elsewhere. This was a difficult thing to accept because it meant leaving the familiar and trusting that God would guide me in the right direction.

3. Matter of Culture

The CRC is full of wonderful people who love and want to serve Christ. The most blessed experiences I’ve had as a pastor involve serving with people who are passionate about God’s kingdom. In every group or community, churches included, there are always a few ‘bad apples’, folks whose primary goal is to make life difficult for everyone else by insisting that it’s their way or the highway, folks who spread malicious gossip, and/or who love to dine on so-called ‘roast pastor’. These ‘bad apples’ are in the minority and are just as in need of grace as everyone else.

The problem, as I see it, is not the few ‘bad apples’. Rather, the problem is with the barrel, and by barrel, I mean where these apples are ‘stored’. In other words, the Canadian CRC has a culture problem.

To be clear, I’m not referring to ethnicity, though that does play a role in the cultural shape of the Canadian CRC. Rather, I’m referring to the way the Canadian CRC understands and defines itself, its behaviors, the way it does things, and how it relates to the surrounding culture.

Often one’s strengths are also its weaknesses. This is no less true of the CRCs strengths.

The CRC is remarkably well-organized and administered. However, we’ve built a culture of management rather than visionary leadership. The role of pastors and elders is to ensure that members are happy and that the pews and coffers are full. Spirit-led vision is not a possibility in management focused congregations and denominations.

The CRC has an excellent intellectual heritage and is known for its rigorous theological tradition. However, this often manifests itself in sectarianism and, in the most painful scenarios that have been too often repeated, through schism after schism over theological minutiae. To be honest, I’m tired of the fights about doctrine, about evolution vs. creationism, about women in leadership, about worship styles, etc. It doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to conceive of what will happen when the LGBT “issue” hits inevitably the floor at Synod.

The CRC has a strong ethnic heritage (Dutch) that has contributed to its ability to build remarkable institutions. However, it remains primarily a mono-culture such that those who are of a different ethnic descent often have a difficult time fitting into the congregational culture. This is a highly contentious claim for which people will argue back and forth providing anecdotal evidence to either confirm or deny the accusation that the Canadian CRC is an ethnic monoculture. However, the fact that these kinds of discussions are even taking place is indicative of a problem that the Canadian CRC has with hospitality, of fully embracing outsiders, those who are different. The expectation is always conformity. To be frank, I’m tired about fighting over ethnicity. I’m tired of fights over “Ere Zij God”. I’m tired of hearing parishioners of all ages intone “if you ain’t Dutch, you ain’t much”. I’m tired of hearing older folks refer to the Netherlands as “home” and of the need to preserve the “Dutchness” of the CRC. I’m tired of hearing how non-CRC Christians are not “our people”. And, yes, these are all claims I’ve heard with my own ears uttered by many different CRC members. And, no, these things were not said by the ‘bad apples’.

The Canadian CRC must get over its immigrant mentality and start thinking of itself in terms of a Canadian church not a Dutch Church in Canada. This means embracing multiculturalism and it means removing those barriers by which the Canadian CRC seeks to isolate itself from the surrounding Canadian culture. This doesn’t necessarily mean burning the wooden shoes, but it does mean that they need to be displayed far less often and less prominently. All of this requires that the Canadian CRC must become aware of what it means to do ministry in and for a Canadian context. It means that the CRC must undergo the hard work of dismantling some of its most cherished sacred cows in the name of contextualization. One comment in particular by some Dutch visitors to one of the congregations in which I served was particularly eye-opening. They said that the Canadian CRC is completely anachronistic because it is essentially a time capsule of what churches were like in the Netherlands in the 1940s and 50s when they were growing up. The Canadian CRC needs to own up to the fact that it is called to do ministry in Canada in the 21st century.

4. Matter of Theology

Then there is the issue of theology. The study of theology is something I love, not only for its intellectual rigors, but because of the important role it plays in and for the church. For me, theology is an important aspect of deepening my relationship with God. Some may take issue with such a statement, claiming that it serves to keep God at a distance. However, my experience continues to be that theology is one of the ways in which I find spiritual nourishment and growth.

The larger Reformed tradition has positively shaped my theological outlook. By the “larger” tradition, I am referring to the general counters of the theology of the Protestant Reformation. The largest influences in terms of Reformed theology remain those who fall into the modern “neo-Calvinist” stream; thinkers such as Brian Walsh, Nicholas Wolterstorff, James K.A. Smith, and the work of the professors from I.C.S. Other Protestant influences include Jürgen Moltmann, Karl Barth, Lesslie Newbigin, Miroslav Volf and Stanley Hauerwas. I also remain influenced by Roman Catholic theology (particularly Liberation Theology and also the works of Elizabeth Johnson and Hans Ur von Balthasar) and Eastern Orthodoxy (Alexander Schmemann, Vladimir Lossky, and John Behr). However, the books that take up the most shelf space in my theological library are those written by Anglicans – Rowan Williams, N.T. Wright, Robert Farrar Capon, and Fleming Rutledge to name a few. What is interesting is that this wasn’t intentional on my part. I wasn’t conscious of how many Anglicans were influencing my theology until I started attending an Anglican Seminary (but that is a post for another day).

While the Reformed theology of culture will continue to influence my thinking, there are other elements of Reformed theology with which I have struggled for some time. The common response to these objections is that one simply hasn’t studied or understood them well enough. Apparently the only way that one can come to an adequate understanding of a particular issue is when one agrees/assents to that issue. So, let me preface any objections to the issues I raise with the comment that while I haven’t studied these issues to the point of writing a doctrinal dissertation on them, I am confident in my grasp of the context in which the ideas arose and the implications of the ideas.

The biggest theological problem I have with Reformed theology is a doctrine that many consider to be the linchpin of Reformed theology: the doctrine of election. My problem is not with election itself, but is with how it is linked to an individualist soteriology rooted in double predestination. I cannot and will not accept double predestination on any theological grounds. Perhaps this makes me reprobate. And perhaps double predestination is God’s method of election (he reserves that right). However, it cannot and will not be part of my Christian confession. The spiritual implications of double predestination are clearly manifest in the CRC such that I’ve heard it said time and again that “the church does not need to evangelize because the doors of the church are always open – the elect will find their way in here if they are truly elect”. Moreover, those who have ‘fallen away’ from the church we must assume are reprobate. Again, the response will be “well, those folks clearly haven’t understood double predestination”. That could very well be the case. However, ideas have legs, and the legs of double predestination are, in my estimate, theological mutations.

This doctrine also relates to the recent decision of Synod, the governing body of the CRC, to adopt a new “Leadership Covenant for Office Bearers” that makes the “Three Forms of Unity” confessionally binding. Since I do not subscribe to double predestination, I cannot sign the covenant since one of the Three Forms of Unity is the Canons of Dordt in which the doctrine of double predestination is explicitly spelled out. Now, there is room in the new Leadership Covenant for those who may have an issue with some element of the confessions. However, the process by which a pastor is required to describe his or her issue is essentially to put oneself in front of a theological tribunal of one’s peers. I’m not saying that the CRC is full of heretic hunters, but I know what will happen to a pastor who publically admits that they cannot theologically accept a confessional position of the CRC.

This demonstrates a lack of space within the CRC for questions and doubt, both by leadership and laity alike. Such is the nature of confessional denominations – after all, doctrinal confession is what unites them. However, part of the aforementioned exodus of young adults from the church, CRC included, has to do with this perceived lack of space in which to engage in questions about faith and theology. In a confessional setting, if a person disagrees, he or she can by definition no longer be part of that community since the confession is what binds the community. I once did a sermon about the positive role that doubt and questions can play within faith. My sermon had been well received – I was given a number of appreciative compliments by people who were struggling with doubt, and some of my friends and family who read the sermon also found it pastorally sensitive and helpful. A few weeks later at a council meeting, I was verbally lambasted by a retired CRC pastor to the point that I was in tears.  He was incensed and suggested that what I was proposing was destructive precisely since people needed more doctrine to hold onto, not less.

His tirade was actually quite helpful (in spite of the emotional stress it caused). The pastor was right – I was and I remain a doctrinal minimalist. But there is no place for a doctrinal minimalist in leadership within a confessional church.

While I remain influenced by elements of the larger Reformed tradition, I am not and will not be a Reformed confessionalist. I would rather dwell in the questions and leave room for doubt than grasp at certainty. Living in the face of mystery rather than mastery of theological propositions is where I feel most comfortable.

The other important theological issue was one I covered in my last blog post – the Eucharist – so I won’t repeat that here.

5. Matter of Christian Schooling

This is perhaps one of the most contentious issues to raise precisely because it is so central to the identity of the CRC. Pastors are required to send their children to Christian school according to the Church Order and laity are expected to send their children to Christian school. I have heard parents who, for financial or other reasons, are lambasted for not sending their children to Christian school as abdicating their responsibility as parents and as Christians. I’ve had parents who send their children to public or Catholic and those who home school their children confide in me the level of emotional pain they’ve experience as a result of these attacks. I’ve had teachers in the public school system share the alienation they feel when people make comments about public schooling in general and belittled for their decision to teach in a public school.

The problem is not with Christian schools themselves. There are Christian schools, such as Toronto District Christian School, that stand out as wonderful examples of what Christian education can look like. The problem is the way that Christian schools are self-righteously assumed to be the only real option for Christian parents (in spite of the fact that parents who send their kids to Christian school are a minority; in other words, the majority of Christians send their kids to public and Catholic school). The CRC will go to great lengths to support Christian education. However, this support comes at the almost utter neglect of supporting parents, children, and teachers in the public school system, and indeed, of the public schools themselves. If Christians are to be salt and light in the world, wouldn’t it be better for Christian parents and students to practice resurrection within the public school system rather than maintaining a separate system that does more to impede Christian witness than serve it?

Christian schools also tend to stand in the way of mission in terms of the prohibitive cost of tuition. Enrollment will continue to decline as tuition increases; as tuition increases, enrollment declines. Christian education becomes inaccessible except to those with the financial means. Yes, I realize the sacrifice that many parents make in order to pay for Christian education – my parents included. However, the sacrifices made do not detract from the fact that there is a problematic attitude that prevails within CRC culture regarding Christian schools. It would be wonderful to see a CRC congregation continue to support its local Christian school while simultaneously supporting a local public school as well.

6. In Conclusion

This is my explanation for why I left the CRC.

Some will undoubtedly disagree with my conclusions. I’m OK with that. I admit, that I could be completely wrong on everything. But the fact of the matter is that the CRC is not my church home.

The most difficult part in leaving is what you leave behind. There continue to be some wonderful things about the CRC that will continue to positively shape me:

- the Reformed theology of culture. People like Brian Walsh and Rev. John van Sloten are wonderful examples of Reformed engagement with culture. They stand at the forefront of what Canadian CRC ministry can look like.

- the intellectual heritage of the CRC. Institutions like I.C.S. remain near and dear to my heart. The work of scholars like Dr. Jamie Smith from Calvin College is invigorating.

- innovative leaders like Rev. Mark Hilbelink in Austin, TX and Rev. Bryan Berghoef in Washington D.C.

- the work of the Campus Ministry Team and the Church Planting Team of Home Missions.

These are but a few of the bright spots in the CRC, lights that I hope will continue to shine in my life.

To be clear, I didn’t leave the CRC in search of the ‘perfect church’. I’m not naïve enough to think that such a thing exists. I left because God was calling me elsewhere. I left because I was confident that God would direct me where he wanted me to be in order to best use my gifts in service of his kingdom.

So, I didn’t find the perfect church, but I found a church that was home.

STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT POST – WHY I BECAME ANGLICAN

On Communion/Eucharist/Lords’ Supper & Becoming Anglican

I grew up in a tradition in which the Eucharist was so important that it could only be celebrated between 4-10 times per year in order to retain its importance, lest it become a meaningless ritual.

Interestingly enough, the importance that tradition gave to the Eucharist was highly formative. So much so that it was one of the reasons I left that tradition and became Anglican.

I left a tradition for which the Eucharist was too important to be done frequently and joined a tradition in which the Eucharist is too important not to do weekly.

And no, it has not become a meaningless routine for me to participate in it weekly. Now preparation for Eucharist is something to do a few times a year, it is something I do every week. It is a spiritual discipline and nourishment, not only for me personally, but also for the church as the Eucharist reminds and calls the church to unity and to embody Christ’s body on earth by participating in God’s mission.

The funny thing is that John Calvin wanted the Eucharist to be offered weekly. I guess you could say that it is partly John Calvin’s fault why I became Anglican.

The Work of Love: A Wedding Sermon

Text: Colossians 3:12-17

R and C, it is a privilege for me to be able to speak to you today, along with your friends and family gathered here to support you, as you celebrate your wedding.

When I think of weddings, aside from being reminded of my own, my mind turns toward the wedding scene in the movie The Princess Bride where Princess Buttercup, in despair at the presumed loss of her true love Westley, dejectedly consents to marry the pompous Prince Humperdink.  However, unlike that wedding, today we have the opportunity to witness and participate in the joining of two people who genuinely care for and love each other to the point of mutually consenting to forming a new life together within the covenant of marriage.

In a culture where promises are easily made and easily broken, the promise that R and C are making today is a big deal.  They are making a promise to each other that will fundamentally change their lives.  They are making a promise to bind themselves together in love.

But what does love look like?  Love is a word that is tossed around so much in our culture that it begins to lose meaning – I love the Montreal Canadiens.  I love the new Batman movie.  I love this sandwich.  This is not the kind of love that R and C could ever base their relationship upon because it is selfish and superficial.

So, we ask again, what does love, the kind of love that grows and sustains a marriage, look like?

I think R and C have a pretty good idea of what this love looks like because they chose Colossians 3:12-17 as their marriage passage, where St. Paul writes:

 “So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.

Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way.”

It’s amazing that a letter written 2000 years ago has wisdom and truth that remains relevant for today.  To be clear, Paul is not offering us good advice.  Rather, he is directing us in a way of life that is defined by love.

According to Paul, love is a complex web of emotions, values, and commitments.  It is a way of life made possible in and through the love of Jesus Christ.

Paul is saying that Christ offers us the perfect and complete example of how we are to love.  Christ is the one who, out of his great love for all of humankind, came to earth to show us what it means to be human.  Someone once said that Christ became human so that humans might become divine.  Now, there are several different ways one could interpret this, but the one I want to suggest to you today is that this means is that Christ shows us what real love looks like.  The Bible tells us that “God is love”.  Therefore, if Christ is God, then Christ is love.  If Christ is love, then he is calling us, as his brothers and sisters, to participate in his love by showing that same love in all of our relationships.

This is a tall order.  It doesn’t look like the romantic fantasies of our culture.  Rather the love that Christ calls us to is hard work.  It is the hard work of building and maintaining trust; the hard work of being thankful for others, even when you’re tired of and angry with them; the hard work of commitment when it would be easier to give up; the hard work of forgiveness when trust has been betrayed; the hard work of being faithful when it is easy to be distracted; the hard work of putting someone other than yourself first.

As humans, our default behavior tends toward selfishness – my needs and my desires are what matter most.  Or, in the words of a bumper sticker I saw recently, “It’s all about me”.  But, is this any way to live life?  Sadly, for many, it is.  Perhaps this way of life will give temporary pleasure and fleeting happiness, but it can never give lasting meaning, fulfillment, and joy to one’s life.  So, it would seem that when it comes to a way of life, the choice is clear – between self-directed love and self-giving love.  The latter is God’s norm for human relationships.  This means that humans are created to be in relationship with others.  We are not meant to go through life alone, but we live a life with and for the sake of others.  Listen to these words from the book of Ecclesiastes:

“Two are better than one…If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.
But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.  But how can one keep warm alone?

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.”

Marriage is a unique human relationship where self-giving love can grow and develop to its fullest potential.  It is unique because it is within the promises of marriage that two people commit to creating a mutually shared identity and growing into that new identity together.  As in the words of Jesus – two people become “one flesh” – “no longer two individuals, but forming a new unity” (Mark 10:8).

This means that in the context of your marriage, R and C, today you are becoming a reflection of each other.  Your individual identities are now bound to each other to the point that to think of yourself is to automatically think of your partner.  Plus, this is not something that only applies to you – it also applies to how your friends and family relate to you.  No longer can they relate to you as individuals; they relate to you as couple, even when the other is not present.

R – who you are is now bound to C; C, who you are is now bound to R.

Because of your promise to each other, each of you is for the other.  Each of you has promised to lose your individual life and find it in each other.  This doesn’t mean that you stop being individuals with your own particular personalities; rather, it means putting an end to a “me first” attitude and always acting in terms of “us first”.  It is the hard work of letting the other be who they are, not as your want them to be.

You are creating a new identity together, an identity defined and shaped by mutual self-giving love, trust, and faithfulness.  This is difficult for many to accept because it flies in the face of what our culture tells us, namely that marriage is a pragmatic relationship that can be ended as soon as one or both of the parties is no longer receiving what they want from the relationship.

However, we know that all great love stories are about lasting love, a love that grows the more it is given to the other.

The kind of love that always seeks the good of the other.

The kind of love that is rooted in faithfulness and commitment to the other.

The kind of love that learns to rely and depend on the other for strength and guidance.

The kind of love that is patient and kind.

The kind of love that Christ shows us and calls us to show to others.

Of course this doesn’t mean that your marriage will be perfect.  However, it stands as a constant reminder about what your relationship is called to be through the hard work of love.  A relationship based upon emotion and physical attraction is ultimately selfish and shallow.  A relationship based on commitment and self-giving love will, in the words of St. Paul, “always trust, always forgive, and always persevere”.

R and C, you have chosen a great passage to begin your marriage.  Let it be wisdom for your journey together.  Return to it often – read it on your anniversary, after a fight, when you need a reminder of the promise you’ve made to each other, and when times are great.  Internalize it and let it be the definition of your relationship.

If I can give you one piece of advice it for your marriage it is this – in your lives and in your marriage, live this passage.  Look to Christ as the source and foundation of your new life together.  Let him be the example of how you are to love each other – with a love that is completely devoted to and for the sake of the other.

Now, may the peace and love of Christ keep you in tune and in step with each other as you grow in love.

Amen.

Elefante Blanco – White Elephant

This is a must-see movie (trailer here with English subtitles) for anyone involved in urban ministry (or in any ministry, for that matter).  I had the privilege of watching it at TIFF this year with my Film, Prophecy and Culture class with Brian Walsh (yes, I go to an awesome seminary where I can take classes like this).

Here’s the review I did for the class:

“The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood…”[1]

“No one has greater love than to give up one’s life for one’s friends”[2]

“The violence we preach is not the violence of the sword, the violence of hatred.  It is the violence of love…”[3]

The Violence of Love in White Elephant

Although White Elephant[4] tells the story of Julián and Nicloás, two Catholic priests working in the “Villa Virgin” shantytown in the slums of Buenos Aires, Argentina, the main character of the film is the eponymous White Elephant, the name the slum residents have given to the gigantic building that looms over their homes.  The White Elephant was promised to be the largest and best equipped hospital in South America, yet it remains unfinished with no prospects of ever being completed and, except for the drug addicts who use its roof as a place to get high, abandoned.  Idiomatically, “white elephant” is a term used to describe a potentially “valuable but burdensome possession of which its owner cannot dispose and whose cost (particularly cost of upkeep) is out of proposition to its usefulness or worth”.[5]  Indeed, the name White Elephant is fitting, both in terms of size and function.  Unlike the purpose for which it was initially conceived, the lifeless White Elephant is a symbol and reminder of death that continually haunts the residents of the slum below.

The first shot of the White Elephant is a long take that follows Julián and Nicloás as they walk through the labyrinthine halls of the White Elephant.  This shot is a fitting visual introduction to the film as it reveals the vastness and emptiness of the White Elephant, underlining its dominant and forbidding presence in the lives of the residents of Villa Virgin.  The use of long takes and the nimble camera work, not to mention the superb acting of the leads, throughout the film skillfully captures life in the slums, showing both the beauty and brutality[6], allowing the action to unfold naturally without recourse to editing gimmicks in an attempt to intensify the violence.  Moreover, in each of the long takes, there is no musical score; the gunshots, running feet, scooter engines, yelling and crying are the only soundtrack, heightening both the realism and intensity.[7]  In one of the long takes, Nicloás and some of the kids are painting a mural on the side of a building only to be interrupted by yells of “the pigs are coming!”  As the scene unfolds, the audience becomes wrapped up in the chaos as heavily armed police officers descend on the slum in a drug raid and ends as Julián has a stroke.  The audience also participates in the stark brutality of slum life in the long take that follows Nicloás through the winding alleys of the slum as he tracks down the body of Mario, a young man shot and killed during a gang battle.[8]

What is also striking about this scene is that a priest is able to enter into the compound of a drug lord for a face-to-face parlay with her.  This is where the theological weight of the film begins to manifest.  At a tremendous risk to his own life, Nicolás doesn’t enter with a moralizing intent against the drug dealers; he goes in order to demand she return the body of Mario, a rival gang member, to his family.  For Nicolás, relationships, not principles, are what matter most.  This shows the remarkable level of trust and respect that the slum residents, drug dealers included, have for Julián and Nicloás and the work that they do.  Moreover, it speaks to the way in which Julián and Nicloás carry out their ministry in the slum.  Granted, they do share some strong differences of opinion about how to best carry out their ministry, but overall they are committed to serving as Christ’s hands and feet to the poorest of the poor.  Rarely in films, Christian and “secular” alike, is the work of ministry portrayed with such realism, both in terms of life in the street and in the physical, spiritual, emotional, and psychological toll it can take on those who serve.  Throughout the film, Julián, Nicloás, and Luciana work tirelessly to build relationships and tend to whatever needs they are able, all the while struggling with their faith and the apparent futility of their work in the face of violence and brutality.  Hopelessness, broken relationships, drugs, and violence are a way of life in the slum.  The body count and the human toll rise every day.  And yet, in the midst of this, we find two priests who persistently attempt to bring some level of hope and dignity to people shattered by violence, determined to shed some light in the darkness.  They are an incarnational presence in a place that so desperately needs healing and restoration.

But we know that the Incarnation ultimately leads to the Crucifixion.

In the climactic scene of the film, Julián and Nicloás are attempting to bring Monito, a teenage boy caught in the cycle of gang violence, to the hospital after he’d been seriously injured during a raid where police are looking for the killer of an undercover police officer.  Although Julián and Nicloás know that Monito is the murderer, they remain willing to help him get to the hospital, refusing to turn him over to the police.  When their car is stopped at a police checkpoint, Julián and Nicloás are forced out of the car.  Monito, who has been hiding in the backseat, attempts to run away.  It is at this point the most visceral violence of the film erupts.[9]  The boy is a sinner, a murderer, someone who, motivated by revenge, has taken the life of another; the type of person that pious and holy people like priests are not supposed to be around.  And yet, out of their deep love for a troubled boy caught in the downward spiral of violence, Julián and Nicloás are willing to risk everything, including their very lives, to protect him, despite his culpability.  As seen throughout the film, they desire nothing more than his liberation from violence.

As the film winds to its conclusion, we are left wondering about the impact of the preceding events and how it will affect the residents of the slum and the ministry.  After crucifixion, is resurrection possible?  The film ends with some ambiguity about what will happen next in the lives of the protagonists, but not without a hint of despair that the violence will continue to wreak havoc.  However, upon thinking of the opening scene of the film in which Nicloás cowers in fear, hiding for his own life, the audience becomes aware that it has witnessed a transformation, a conversion if you will, in Nicloás’ life that leads him to come to the point of such radical love that he is willing to sacrifice his life, like Julián, for the sake of others.  As Julián once said to Nicloás, “Yesterday’s violence is not equal to today’s, but our love remains the same”.  In these words, a glimmer of hope is restored.  In the face of such steadfast love, violence will not ultimately win; the White Elephant does not get the final word.  That word belongs to love, the same love that is so great that it moved into the neighborhood and give itself up for the sake of others.


[1] John 1:14 The Message

[2] John 15:13 CEB

[3] Oscar Romero

[4] Elefanto Blanco (original title), directed by Argentine filmmaker Pablo Trapero, (2012).

[5] Definition from http://www.dictionary.com

[6] Beauty amidst brutality is one of the recurring themes of the film – for example, when Julián absolves Nicloás; Nicloás’ relationship with Luciana; children playing in the streets of the slum.

[7] That being said, in other parts of the film, the music beautifully amplifies the emotion on the screen.

[8] The interruption of violence into the lives of the residents is a recurring theme of the film.  The opening scene of the film sets this up well with the original tranquility of the jungle mission interrupted by the massacre that ensues.  This is also repeated in scenes in the slums, for instance, during a baptismal service, a fight quickly breaks out between some of the boys.  In addition to the contrasts between beauty and brutality, Trapero also juxtaposes the opulence of the church and the destitution of the slums by immediately cutting from scenes in the slums to those in the richly decorated church offices and cathedral.  Although the wealth of the church is clearly on display in these offices through the lavish flatware and decoration, this beauty, in reality, this beauty shown to be quite ugly and superficial because it is repeatedly unable to deal with the poverty in the slum and pulls its funding from the construction project that would have provided housing and a community centre to the residents.  To be clear, because of the very sympathetic portrayal of the priests, this is less a critique of the church as people and more a critique of the church as institution.  In fact, the entire film serves as a critique of institutions and bureaucracies that remain inept to do anything about the pain and suffering in the world.  The skeletal hulk of the White Elephant is a continual reminder of the failure of institutions qua institutions.

[9] It is also one of the best shot scenes of the movie as well.  The camera is placed at a medium distance and does not follow the action, which takes place to the right of the frame.  The viewer is forced to watch the scene unfold at an unaffected pace.  Once again there is no music soundtrack, only the natural sounds, which make the scene that much more potent considering that it is filmed almost entirely in the shadows with the only light coming from the flashing lights on the police car, a dimly lit street lamp, and natural ambient light.  The audience members are helpless witnesses to what unfolds.