Another post over on Intellectual Defenestration has caught my attention again. This one is a critique of the position that the sixth command, "Thou shalt not kill," is to be taken at face value. There is never a reason to take human life. Whether it be self-defense, defense of another, just war, capital punishment, whatever, the command is still the same, "Do not kill-ever." While agreeing with the desire to uphold life at all costs, Nathan homes in on the fatal flaw of this reading, "Pacifism fails, I think, because it ultimately becomes a commitment to the principle of upholding life, rather than a commitment to actually upholding life." I think he's right. I also believe that there is a deeper dichotomy to consider.
The commitment to preserve human life is ultimately based upon the creation of that life in the imago dei. It does not follow from this, however, that the only or even the primary means of honoring this image will be found in the preservation of a human life or even of human lives. To put it another way, simply being alive is not all there is to being made in the image of God. If it were, then the Bible itself has severely complicated the picture with all of its divinely sanctioned wars and death penalties and slaughterings. And, though it is true that no one today has any sort of a mandate for Joshua like conquest, this is not a thing relegated entirely to the barbaric OT. "The one in authority," says Paul, "does not bear the sword in vain."
Leading into this, Paul had just said, "Let every person be subject to the governing authorities." This is not, as may be supposed, mere pragmatic advice for model citizenship. It does not fit neatly into that outline of Romans whereby 1-11 are theological and 12-16 are practical. The book does follow a structure that divides it up like this, but the split is not between the sacred and the secular, or between faith and practice. It is between the already and the not yet. It is a book of the covenant and of Covenant, i.e., Federal Heads. It is written to the church, which is already in Christ, but not yet loosed from Adam. The first part of the book is a soteriological contrast between the first and second Adams. For now, I am more interested in the second part. This section is also centered around the covenant. In this case, however, Paul is concerned with what unites us with the rest of world. It isn't simply that they're people too. Paul is still thinking covenantally and, this time, he expresses this with allusions to the imago dei and creation mandates.
The imago dei is not a passive descriptor of each living individual. It is rather a covenantal concept whereby mankind, living in community, upholds and displays the communicable attributes of God. Still considering the topic of human government, Paul writes, "For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God." In particular, the attribute that defines the essence of governing authorities functioning within the parameters of their ordination is justice. The preservation of of the imago dei is found in a corresponding preservation of human life. Yet, even more so, it is found in the practice of justice. "He does not bear the sword in vain."
The first scriptural record of God's institution of government is found in the post-flood covenant. This should not be taken as the first time government itself is instituted by God. The institution thereof is a part of the creation covenant, of which that following the flood is a republication. The specific inscripturation of government's institution is found in Genesis 9:6, "Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed, for God made man in his own image." The explanation concerning the imago dei is not given so much in connection with the first clause as it is with the second. The command, "Thou shalt not kill, " is upheld, not in pacifism, but in the exercise of justice. When a life is unjustly taken, the fulfillment of the law is not that another life be unjustly spared, but that justice take it as well. Capital punishment and just war theory exist because of the sixth commandment, not in disregard to it.
What about taking another life either in self-defense or in defense of another? This, too, is a matter of justice. If person A is about to murder person B then I am complicit in that murder if I could have stopped it, even if this includes taking the life of person A. Justice is served both in preserving the innocent life and, if need be, in taking the life of the guilty. On the other hand, I am not justified in taking the life of someone who has already taken a life. There is a difference between justified self-defense and vigilantism. Vengeance belongs to the Lord and is justly exercised only by those to whom it is given. These are the ones appointed by God, who do not bear the sword in vain.
His sovereignty and love are ever bound
Together in a never breaking cord;
A union, indissoluble and sound,
Perfected by the blood that he outpoured.
For God- his only Son he did not spare
But gave him for a world cursed by the fall.
How shall he then, when called upon in prayer,
Not with him also freely give us all?
We know that he who has in us begun
A good work will perform it to the day
Of Jesus Christ- God's own begotten Son;
Our risen Lord, who hears us when we pray.
And oh what consolation to have found
His sovereignty and love are ever bound.
There is over on truthbecomeslies an effort to answer objections to paedobaptism by appealing to the nature of the church. If I follow the argument, the first two options represent possible credobaptist views and the third that of the paedobaptists. Within the credobaptist options, the first is what the church would look like if they were consistent with this doctrine. Only baptized believers would participate in the life of the church. The first option is desribed as "reasonable" and "consistent;" however, in a subsequent examination of the premises behind this option, it is revealed to be a reductio ad absurdam. From the premise that the great Commission does not explicitly mention covenants or the Kingdom of God, but just says, "Go. Train people," Scott concludes that Jesus wanted the "monasticizing of the Earth." Everyone needs to quit their job and become a preacher just like Jesus' disciples did. He has a valid point against a lot of credobaptist hermeneutics. The second option presents what credobaptist churches actually do look like. Unbaptized children are not members; however, they participate in all aspects of membership except for communion. Scott writes, "Not only is this completely unhinted at in Scripture, but it is an unfair practice to the children." Children are either in the covenant or they are not and they shouldn't be left wondering which it is.
I appreciate the idea of arguing the proper recipients of baptism from the nature of the church rather than from specific prooftexts, but I don't believe that option 2 succeeds. The implied concept of the covenant seems to me to be bit one dimensional, as though there were an exact correspondence between it and the church as a visible institution. But the covenant is deeper than that. Ultimately, the covenant is made with Christ. The elect are his eternal inheritance. While it is appropriate on one level to speak of baptized church membership as being in the covenant, this should not be confused with being in Christ. Baptism is a form of water ordeal that destroys all who pass through it. Only for those who pass through it in faith is it a means of grace. This faith unites them with Christ is his baptism on the cross and subsequent resurrection. All who are baptized are members of the covenant in the sense of being obligated to its terms and are promised blessings for keeping them and curses for breaking them. Still , there is a sense in which the visible church is not the covenant itself but reveals the covenant. The promises are made to Christ and the grace exihibited to us is that he has fulfilled all of the covenantal obligations.
If there are different dimensions within the covenant, may the church determine who is where? It can- this is what happens in the extreme end of church discipline. Someone within the church is judged to have been without faith and is excommunicated. But this does not mean that he has been expelled from the covenant. Instead, excommunication means that, barring repentance, he is going to be meeting the terms of his baptism all by himself. The set of those qualified for covenant membership in the visible church is larger than and contains the set of those qualified to take communion. The first requires baptism; the second requires faith. Which brings up the issue of paedocommunion. Scott also alluded to this in option 2. The question here is not whether faith is a requirement, but whether the church can assume faith in its immature members. Does it allow all to participate unless they fall away, or should it require sufficient maturity to make and understand a profession of faith? Historically, the Reformed position opts for making them wait (see WLC 177 -"only to such as are of years and ability to examine themselves"). This position does not deny that children are in the covenant, nor does it deny the possibility that they have true faith. It only claims that communion is reserved for those whom the church has judged, not assumed, to have true faith. It recognizes that there are different levels to the covenant.
Credobaptists argue that the physical covenant of OT Israel is fulfilled in those who have faith. Consequently, although the sign of circumcision was given after physical birth, the sign of baptism should only be given after spiritual birth. The argument is valid in that the conclusion follows from the premises. Nor does this view of the covenant contradict the value of the visible church as a place to train up one's unbaptized children in the Lord. Baptist theolgy does not recognize baptism as a sacrament. It is done in obedience to the command of Christ but is not a means of grace. [I'm speaking from having grown up as a dispensational baptist; please correct me if this is not the case for Reformed Baptists.] In holding to this view, Baptists are in error; however, they are not heterodox. This is not a matter of knowing the truth and rejecting it, but of being honestly mistaken in what scripture teaches. Baptism is a means of grace, whether anyone thinks so or not (unless paedobaptists would like to argue that infants have an opinion on the matter). And, to state the obvious, Baptists do get baptized. Furthermore, their children are a part of the covenant just as much as those of paedobaptists. This is not to deny the nature of baptism, not to say that it is a matter of indifference for those who know better. Baptism is a means of grace, but it is neither inseparable from grace nor is its efficacy "tied to that moment of time wherein it is administered" (see WCF XXVIII.5,6).
Baptists may have the wrong view of baptism and, for that matter, the covenant as a whole. Nevertheless, they are following scripture when they bring up their children in the Lord. This includes disciplining them toward righteous living, prayer, knowledge of the Scripture, and participation in worship. That the parents themselves may not rightly understand the doctrine of baptism is no justification otherwise to shirk their duty. Children need to be evangelized. Disciplining them in these various activities is how this is accomplished.
Rummaging through the archives at rabbisaul weblog, I came across the following:
Does it bother anyone else that we say that Jesus earned our inheritance for us by keeping the law on our behalf - and meanwhile, Paul says that if the inheritance comes through the law, then the promise is made void (Gal 3.17-18)?
I well enough know the standard response to this, namely, that if we receive the inheritance by law, the promise is void, but that it is given to us precisely by Christ's law-keeping.
But there is a wee problem with this solution: in the very preceding verse (3.16), Paul has just identified Jesus as the recipient of the promise.
Am I missing something here? Doesn't this mean that Paul is saying that Jesus Himself did not receive the promise by law-keeping, but by inheritance?
The "we" here, at least that part where Christ had to keep the law on our behalf, includes the bulk of confessionally reformed Christianity and, while I am perfectly willing to disagree with this tradition on the basis of a text proving it to have been in error, I would first rather investigate the possibility that this simple reading is not what Paul had in mind. I submit that, within the text, there is an implicit reference to the historia salutis that allows Christ both to receive the promise by inheritance and to be justified by keeping the law (they are not the same thing); that, in the language of inheritance apart from the law, Paul is considering Christ in his resurrected state.
The central question to the churches of Galatia is one of timing. "But now that you have come to know God, or rather to be known by God, how can you turn back again to the weak and worthless elementary principles of the world, whose slaves you want to be once more?" (4:9) The point of inheritance, which Paul is explicitly addressing in 3:16-18, has to do with one's status as a son. The point of keeping the law, dying under its curse, and being raised into the life of the Spirit has to do with how one obtains the status of a son in the first place. Note how this is accomplished for the Galatians (and us): "But when the fulness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, 'Abba! Father!' So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God" (4:4-7). The question is not over the function of the law for our final justification; rather, it is whether we have moved from being slaves under the law to being heirs according to the promise. And if so, then, "Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?" (3:3)
In Romans 1:3,4, Paul writes about the gospel of God "concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh and was declared to be the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by his resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord..." Geerhardus Vos, in his The Eschatological Aspect of the Pauline Conception of the Spirit, notes a paradigm shift between sarkic and pneumatic existence that plays out in the person of Christ when he is raised from the dead. He writes, "The reference is not to two coexisting sides in the constitution of the Saviour, but to two successive stages in His life: there was first a genesthai kata sarka, then a horisthenai kata pneuma. The two prepositional phrases have adverbial force: they descibe the mode of the process, yet so as to throw emphasis on the result than on the initial act: Christ came into being as to His sarkic existence, and he was introduced by horismos into his pneumatic existence."
It is as a man according to the flesh who has been raised according to the Spirit, and not according to his eternal existence as the second person of the Trinity, (which is not denied) that Christ is declared to be the Son of God. Paul also connects Christ's resurrection to the initiation of his status as the Son of God in his sermon at the synogogue of Antioch of Pisidia. "And we bring you the good news that what God promised to the fathers, this he has fulfilled to us their children by raising Jesus, as also it is written in the Second Psalm, 'You are my Son, today I have begotten you.'" (Acts 13:32, 33) The same verse is quoted by the author of Hebrews. In the context, he is demonstrating that Christ is better than the angels because he has inherited a more excellent name. This inheritance, however, is not due to his divine status from eternity past. In that case, he would be represented as always better than the angels. But in chapter 2:6-8, the author again quotes from Psalms (8:4-6) and applies it to Christ: "It has been testified somewhere, 'What is man, that you are mindful of him, or the son of man, that you care for him? You made him for a little while lower than the angels; you have crowned him with glory and honor, putting everything in subjection under his feet.'" Christ's inheritance moves him from being lower than the angels to being superior to angels. There is an historical event in which he is declared to be the Son of God and, therefore, worthy of inheritance. "For to which of the angels did God ever say, 'You are my Son, today I have begotten you?" (1:5) Be sure to note the sequence in the verses immediately preceding: "After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs." The ability to inherit takes place "after making purification for sins," which purification, in turn, falls under the scope of the law.
This paradigm shift, from sarkic to pneumatic, also takes place in the lives of individual believers as a result of their union with Christ. Paul uses himself as an example of this in Galatians 2:19, 20, "For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but 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." When Paul follows this with, "I do not nullify the grace of God, for if justification were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose," it needs to be kept in context. He is not making a blanket statement against the possibility of the law ever to justify, i.e., to be the grounds whereupon one is declared righteous. In fact, in chapter 3:12, quoting from Leviticus 18:5, he writes, "But the law is not of faith, rather 'The one who does them shall live by them.'" The perfect fulfilling of the law counts, by definition, as righteousness. If one actually is righteous, by whatever means, justice requires that he be declared righteous, which is what 'justification' means. No, Paul is saying that, having been united with Christ, "who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification" (Romans 4:25), it would be absurd to go back to the law to obtain what he already had. Moreover, it would be dangerous, since this would imply a lack of saving faith on his part.
Not only does this paradigm shift exist in the life of the individual, but it also exists in the redemptive history of Israel, which history both points to Christ and recapitulates itself in his person. The story of slavery and exodus, of exile and return, of law and gospel, is the story of Christ. Furthermore, this same prophetic shift is seen in the smaller histories contained in the Israeli narrative. Specific to the context of Galatians, it is seen in the story of Abraham. Paul also mentions or alludes to four other main characters: Hagar, Sarah, Isaac, and Ishmael. Without a doubt, the part of Christ as the seed of promise is played by Isaac. We cannot, however, leave it at this and assume that Isaac's part portrays the completeness of Christ's person and work. On the contrary, Isaac is Christ as to his pneumatic existence. Concerning the role of the law in the larger history of redemption, Paul writes, "It was added because of transgressions, until the offspring should come to whom the promise has been made, and it was put in place through angels by an intermediary" (3:19).
Whose role the law is in the smaller history is identified in chapter 4:25, "Now Hagar is Mount Sinai in Arabia; she corresponds to the present Jerusalem, for she is in slavery with her children." Paul had just said, "For it is written that Abraham had two sons, one by a slave woman and one by a free woman. But the son of the slave was born according to the flesh, while the son of the free woman was born through promise. Now this may be interpreted allegorically: these women are two covenants. One is from Mount Sinai, bearing children for slavery; she is Hagar." Keeping all of this in mind- the part that Hagar is playing, the fact that she bears Abraham a son, and the fact that Paul explicity identifies her as a woman (he is not being superfluous)- reread 4:4. "But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law.." Certainly this is Jesus born of Mary, but in the smaller history, it is Ishmael born of Hagar. Ishmael is Christ as to his sarkic existence.
In like manner, the smaller history's portrayal of Isaac born of Sarah is the declaration at his resurrection that Jesus is the Son of God. Paul speaks of this birth in terms of life from death when he writes of Abraham's faith in Romans 4:18,19, "In hope he believed against hope, that he should become the father of many nations, as he had been told, 'So shall your seed be.' He did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was as good as dead (since he was about a hundred years old), or when he considered the deadness of Sarah's womb." The vindication of Abraham's faith in the birth of Isaac accounts for his faith during the sacrifice of Isaac: he expected God to raise him from the dead. Hebrews 11:17-19, "By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, 'Through Isaac shall your seed be named.' He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back." Isaac, as portrayed in this passage is the pneumatic Christ. And this is also the case in the passage in question (Galatians 3:16-18). Paul is talking about Christ the one who "was declared to be the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by his resurrection from the dead;" the one who, by virtue of this declaration is now entitled to the inheritance, not by law-keeping, but by a promise.
Furthermore, the promise to Abraham and his seed made after the sacrifice of Isaac is the only one in which 'seed' can be taken in a singular sense, it is this event to which Paul refers. He is not playing loose with the text by distinguishing 'seed' from 'seeds.' In Genesis 12:1-3, the promise is made to Abram, in whom all families of the earth are to be blessed; there is no mention of a seed. In 15:5, the promise is again made only to Abram; his seed will be as the number of the stars. In 17:19, God tells Abraham that after Isaac has been born he will make a covenant with him (Isaac) and with his seed after him. So far then: no seed, Abrams's plural seed, Isaac's plural seed. We need a place in which the seed is a singular referent to Isaac and, prophetically, to Christ. This record of the promise takes place in Genesis 22:17,18 immediatley following the sacrifice of Isaac, "I will surely bless you , and I will surely multilpy your seed as the stars of the heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore. [Plural, but keep reading.] And your seed shall possess the gate of his enemies, and in your seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because you have obeyed my voice."
The connection of this event with Paul's emphasis on the singular seed is further established in God's command to have Isaac sacrificed, "Take your son, your only son Isaac" It is just in the preceding chapter (21:10) that Sarah has said of Abraham's other son, "Cast out this slave woman with her son, for the son of this slave woman will not be heir with my son Isaac." Precisely the verse quoted by Paul in his allegory of the two women/covenants when he wants to establish our union with the resurrected Christ. "But what does the Scripture say? 'Cast out the slave woman and her son, for the son of the slave woman shall not inherit with the son of the free woman.' So, brothers, we are not children of the slave but of the free woman" (Galatians 4:30,31). We, along with the pneumatic Christ, are children of the resurrection, of the Jerusalem that is above. As her children, we receive the promise, not because of what we do, but because we are heirs. How can we even think of returning to our previous existence? Yet, that there was such an existence, both for Christ and for ourselves, cannot be disputed. Christ was born under the law and endeavored to fulfill the law, for "the one who does them shall live by them." And, as to his own person, he was the only man who ever kept the law. However, union with Christ is not limited to our mutual pneumatic existence. He was also united to us in sarkic history and so, sharing in the guilt of our law-breaking, "Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us" (3:13).
It is on the basis of his perfect obedience to the law that Christ, upon bearing the curse of the law in our behalf, is declared righteous. This justification is that, without which, the resurrection cannot take place. It is at his resurrection that God declares of Jesus, "You are my Son, today I have begotten you." Once Christ has entered into this state of being a son, he does not need to keep the law to earn what is his due. It is simply his by inheritance. And what is Christ's belongs to the churches of Galatia by inheritance and to us by inheritance. This much is true, "if the inheritance comes by the law, it no longer comes by promise." Nevertheless, justification, which belongs to Christ as a result of keeping the law and to us by faith in his person and work, is not the same thing as the promised inheritance, which belongs both to Christ and to us by virtue of our mutaul status as sons. We cannot afford to lose sight of the historia salutis.
Over on Intellectual Defenestration, Nathan Maphet points out an article by David Gelernter, the thesis of which is, "Puritanism did not drop out of history. It transformed itself into Americanism." Even though I'm not prepared, just yet, to jump on board with Gelernter's idea, I don't agree with Nathan's stated reason for rejecting it. He writes, "at the heart of Puritanism lay not only a broad political worldview, but also an intense desire for and focus on personal piety. Inasmuch as Americanism does not also have this element, it is not the same as Puritanism." He goes on to give a possible argument to his objection- "that the focus on Christian living was an ancillary element of Puritanism, that the personal flowed from the political and therefore Americanism is still fundamentally the inheritor of Puritanism, only modifying the non-essentials." There may be another alternative.
Personal piety was a core belief of the Puritans and, most likely, would not have been the case if they had not been Puritans; however, it does not follow from this that it was a core aspect of Puritanism per se. Gelernter states that Puritanism is "not a separate type of Christianity but a certain approach to Protestantism." As such, it was found in a wide range of Protestant churches. It starts out among Anglicans, Congregationalists, and Presbyterians only to broaden out into Quakers and Unitarians. I submit that the Puritan concern for personal piety was not a secondary issue derived from some aspect of Puritanism, nor was it a primary issue for them but having little to do with their Puritanism. They were Purtian to the core; this approach informed everything about them. Rather, it was a primary issue necessarily brought about by the union of Puritanism with orthodox Protestantism. When the religious orthodoxy went, this piety either vanished altogether or turned into legalism.
As far as the connection itself between Puritanism and Americanism, it isn't just a matter of the core ideals of freedom, equality, and democracy. The French have these ideals, yet no one is accusing them of Americanistic tendencies. Americanism is not so much that Americans want these ideals for themselves but that everyone, everywehere is entitled to what these ideals represent- and it's our duty to make sure that they get them. Gelernter lists these ideal as conclusions of two premises: "first, every member of the American community has his own individual dignity, insofar as he deals individually with God; second, the community has a divine mission to all mankind." These, in turn, derive from the fundamental fact that the Bible is God's Word. The fundamental fact along with the premises explain how Americansim reached its conclusions. Today, I'm not so sure that holding to the missionary zeal for the conclusions need imply that one also hold to the premises, much less to the fundamental fact. There is a tendency in the history of a belief system to retain hold on particular tenets even while abandoning the reason for reaching them. We find the same sort of thing in much of American Christianitry- evangelize the central gospel truths while failing to emphasize or, perhaps, even to mention, why they are so important. When one generation is unable to defend the faith, the next will be unable, or unwilling to hold it.
I suppose I'm gettimg off track here, but not quite. The same sort of phenomenon acounts for the liberalizing tendency within Protestantism into which Puritnanism fell before vanishing or, if you agree with Gelernter's thesis, before it transmited itself into Americanism. Like I said, I'm not sure if I buy his thesis; however, this is more due to wanting to know what other factors may be involved than it is to a fundamental diagreement with the elements of his argument as presented. For the sake of argument, then, I'm going to assume that he is correct. If so, what accounts for the big differences that one finds betwen Puritanism and Americanism? Differences that go quite a bit beyond the existence of personal piety. I've already mentioned one reason: the evolution of a belief system caused by divorcing present core beliefs from an historically based apology for those beliefs. A product of the sin nature in general or maybe just plain laziness. But the transformation of Puritanism, from orthodox to liberal Protestantism and then to a nationalistic religion, was relatively rapid. I'm inclined to think that something other than natural development was driving it.
Two possibilities present themselves for consideration. The first is the influence within Puritanism of a faulty view of the millennium, or of the nature of the Kingdom of God. Gelernter speaks of the second main element of Purtitanism as a political doctrine, the goal of which was to "to reach back to the pure Christianity of the New Testament—and then even farther back. Puritans spoke of themselves as God’s new chosen people, living in God’s new promised land—in short, as God’s new Israel." There is nothing wrong with the view- in fact, it is correct that Israel, that is, the visible Kingdom of God, finds its fulfillment in the church: if this is as far as it goes. And, at least among one prominent faction of ealry Puritans, this was confessed to be the case. The WCF XXV.I identifies the visible church, which is not confined to one nation, as "the kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ." Still, it is hard to maintain such a distinction when the document in question was born in the context of the English Civil Wars, wars in which the crown and Parliament took decidedly different religious stances and fought from these religious motivations. The temptation to make the kingdom a fusion of church and state was too great. This would be magnified with American Puritanism, in which everyone who migrated over at that time was a Puritan and, for a while, all who were members of the church were, by definition, also members of the state (state here being defined as the most immediate political unit to which they belonged). This view of the kingdom combind with the first element of Puritanism, which was "the Calvinist belief in predestination with associated religious doctrines" to form a kind of manifest destiny that would survive in the political realm long after religious orthodoxy, including the Calvinism, had been abandoned.
So much then for why the religious and political realms were combined. The second possible explanation for the rapid transmutation of Puritanism goes to the virtual irrelevance of supernatural religion in Americanism. Why was religious orthodoxy abandoned? To be sure, many of this ideology still invoke the deity in support of their cause. Nevertheless, there is no need to. The combination of the core ideals with religion is not nearly as prominent as it was at the inception of Puritanism. Where religion is brought in as justification for Americanism, it is personalized. I do not doubt that President Bush has the sincere religious conviction that all men are entitled by their creator with the right to freedom, equality, and democracy. However, he's not going to quibble with someone else's religious motivations, be they Christian, Hindu, Atheist, or even Islamic- just so long as these ideals of Americanism are supported. I can't see the Puritans being able to maintain this distinction between religious motivation and personal conviction. The second possible explanation is, namely, the influence upon the society at large of Enlightenment thinking.
I notice many things getting blamed, injustly in my opinion, on the Enlightenment. Along with modernism, it is cited as the evil fountainhead of all things logical and of belief in objective truth. But this is too shallow a dismissal. Modernism and the Enlightenment may have incorporated these elements, but it did not give birth to them. That part of the WCF I.VI, which states, "The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man's salvation, faith and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture," is not a product of Enlightenment or foundationalist corruption, but is a safeguard of orthodoxy. The fault of the Enlightenment lay, not in reason, but in rationalism, in the attempt to dethrone God and replace him with the goddess Reason. Assign God to his corner and see how many things can be explained without him. The freedom to worship God as he has commanded turns into the more broadly defined subjugation of the king. And while, to an extent, this may be a good thing, insofar as it is derived from the creation of all human beings in the imago dei, soon, there arises a shift in thinking. No longer man in the image of God, but man endowed by his creator (defined deistically) with certain inalienable rights. But then, doesn't it just stand to reason that people inherently deserve freedom and equality? Why bother God at all?
If Gelernter's thesis is right, Calvinistic post-millennielsim was transmogriphied into imperialistic democratization. Yet, wherever it came from, I cannot subscribe to what he has called "Americanism." This is not an argument against the current war in Iraq. Nor is it, necessarily an argument against democratizing the Middle East- if this is truly in the best interest of our own national security. No, what I object to is the idea that God wants everyone to be free, equal, and democratic. Democracy is not a bad thing; however (and this may be overly simplistic), I don't recall in those cases where God does get directly involved in the affairs of state, such as ancient Israel, that there was a duly elected President David. My point is not to argue the merits of a monarchy, but to say that the diginity due to all individuals from their creation in God's image does not need to manifest itself in their being free, equal, and registered voters. Nor, unless it be for our own national security reasons or for a foreign power's blatant abuse of its citizens, should we take lightly the overthrow of another government just so we can share our democratic good fortune. Most of all, I do not support Americanism because it thrives by making religious motivation, even if publically stated, a matter of private conviction. The gospel, the imperative to make disciples of all nations, is subordinated to making all nations politically free.
Phil and I have been having a lengthy conversation on whether or not the Decalogue remains valid for Christians now that Christ has come. My latest response made reference to the three uses of the law, which are 1) to promote civil righteousness, 2) to drive us to Christ, and 3) as a rule of life for those who have been redeemed. This is what was still rolling around in my mind when I came across the following:
Actually, in my response, I wasn't even thinking about the first use of the law. Nor am I sure that I agree with it- there doesn't seem to be any connection to Christ. I misidentified it as the means of justification for the two Federal Heads, Adam and Christ. Perhaps this is not what is called the first use of the law, even so, I do take it as a legitimate use of the law. Furthermore, I do not believe it possible to have a clear grasp of what it means for our justification, and thus our salvation, to be by grace through faith unless we recognize that Christ, the bestower of grace and object of our faith, was justified by the works of the law. Jesus did have a specific call as the Messiah, which was to save his people from their sins. This, in turn, was accomplished when he kept the demands of the law and suffered the penalty due us for breaking that law.
I am in full agreement with the concluding sentence in the above quote: "Anything that brings someone closer to Christ can be a useful tool." My cocern is that Wright's answer quite possibly missed the point of the objection from the professors at Regent. Most of the time, the question WWJD is asked in complete abstraction from Jesus' unique role as the Messiah. Instead of Jesus being the one who fulfills the law in our stead, who then unites us with him in his death and resurrection, he becomes our greatest moral example. It is quite possible to follow the example of Jesus without ever putting our trust in him. And where this is the case, no one is being brought closer to Christ. Jesus has been turned into a mental construct whereby we facilitate and act upon the moral dictates of our own conscience.
A desire to be like Christ, to be conformed to his image, is comendable. But this is not achieved by mere imitation, or, what's worse, second guessing what would have been done so as to imitate that. Wherever there may be legitimate grounds for imitation, it will always be connected to the law in its third use. On the other hand, this use of the law covers a lot more territiory than what Jesus may or may not have provided in the way of situational examples.
The thing is, keeping the law isn't nearly as exiting as having a hero. Besides that, it can devolve into legalism. This is where it may be legitimate to ask WWJD. Not as a first step wherein the answer is ruled by our conscience (which in turn subscribes to a faulty conception of who Jesus is), but in subordination to an intentional knowledge of the word and will of God. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 11:1, "Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ." Keep the verse in context. Paul is not saying, "Jesus did things that I copy and I'm doing things that you can copy." The emphasis here is on a mindset.
Paul has just finished talking about what to do in the case of meat offered to idols. Should the Corinthians eat it or not? On the one hand, even though idols are nothing, this meat has been offered to demons. "You cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons" (10:21). So that settles it. Not quite. The creation is a gift from God intended to be used by man. "The earth is the Lord's and the fulness thereof" (10:26). If it is wrong to eat at the table of demons, it is also wrong to cede to them what rightly belongs to God. From two possible options, both of which are wrong, Paul advocates a third. He offeres himself as an example, not of settling with the lesser of two evils, but of glorifying God in either option. "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. Give no offence to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God, just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many that they may be saved. Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ" (10:31-11:1).
Compare this to Philippians 2:3-8. Here, Paul uses the occasion of Jesus fulfilling his messianic role as an example for us. Not that we might be mini-messiahs, but that we might have the mind of Christ. We lack Christ's office and will never be called to do what he did; nevertheless, we are partakers of his image and are both called and able to have the same motivation that he did. Paul did not seek his own advatage because he longed for the salvation of many. Even so, Christ won the salvation of his bride because he loved her more than his own life. What then is our response? I am chagrined that I do not love the people of God as I ought. And yet I rejoice- Jesus loves me.