With a nod from John Calvin, the Geneva city council in 1553 burned Michael Servetus at the stake. Servetus was a heretic who denied the Trinity of persons within the Godhead and denied paedobaptism. While Calvin preferred to give Servetus a quick death via decapitation, he had to compromise with the council who preferred to let Servetus burn to death.

On a related note, a few years earlier, Swiss reformer Ulrich Zwingli, and his council, persecuted Anabaptists by giving them their "third baptism": a death by drowning. Zwingli would later die by the sword, fighting Catholics in neighboring counties.

Sadly, the history of Christianity is rich with bloodshed. Thankfully, these days we don't kill guys like Joel Osteen and whoever the guy is who wrote The Shack, but I think the history of dealing with heresy should teach us that orthodoxy -- right thinking -- really matters. To be sure, I don't condone certain ways the church has dealt with heresies in the past; in fact, I find many of those ways appalling. While I'm not a pacifist, I tend to think that the Anabaptists had a lot of right ideas when it came to their aversion to violence.

Heresy is serious, and an appropriate response to heresy is something the evangelical church needs to grapple with in this age of pluralism, "tolerance," and sweltering anti-Christianity. As far as an appropriate response goes, violence is not the answer.

I didn't have a choice but to lift you up. And sing whatever song you wanted me to.

-- U2, "Magnificient"

Theologically I'm not prepared to defend to death every minor point of Calvinist theology, but I've found recently the more of God's word I read, the more plainly I understand that our salvation is not our own doing. Sure, real Arminians also believe in prevenient grace, but I can't buy the idea that we have anything whatsoever to do with our eternal destination. (And for the record, I don't think Arminianism is a weak position; I simply think Calvinism carries more Biblical weight.)

For me, embracing Calvinism is embracing a paradigm-shifting thought: I'm not in control of jack squat. I can't will to do good. I can't give God a wink and a nod, saying, "Go ahead, do your stuff in me." And I certainly can't work out my own salvation with fear and trembling; it's got to be God working in me, and it is. I'm comforted knowing that what He starts He completes, and He'll perfect His work (both in me and my family) until the day of Christ JESUS (Philippians 1:6). I know that's true. I have no fear of losing salvation because it's not up to me to keep it. He will come through.

In the past I've dipped my toe into the waters of Calvinism, but I've never (I don't think) flat out said I was a Calvinist. I guess that's what I am. The theologically snooty part of me would rather be called a monergist or even an Augustinian, but Calvinist works just fine.

Grace (5): Sissy is speaking to me in her mean voice.

Me: I'm sorry. That's not very nice, is it?

Grace: No. So I don't want to be her sister any more.

Me: Well, that's not nice either. That's pretty mean.

Grace: Well, why should I be nice to her if she's not gonna be nice to me?

Me: Because that's called grace. That's why we named you that, remember? Remember that grace means being nice to someone and loving them even if they don't deserve it.

Grace: She doesn't deserve it.

Me: I know. But it would be easy to be sweet to her if she was being sweet to you, wouldn't it? If she was being nice to you, wouldn't you want to be nice to her?

Grace: Uh huh.

Me: But that's not grace. Grace means being sweet to your sister even if she's not being sweet to you.

Grace: Why would I want to do that?

Me: Because that's what God did for us. He loved us even though we're really bad. Didn't he?

Grace: Ohhh. Yeah. I'm gonna go watch TV now.

The Nicene Creed was born this day in 325. One of the oldest and most widely used confessions of the universal Christian faith, the Nicene Creed was formulated at a time when the heresy of Arianism threatened orthodox Christianity with the denial of Jesus' deity. Thus the strong Christology in the creed.

I believe in one God,
the Father Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
and of all things visible and invisible;

And in one Lord Jesus Christ,
the only begotten Son of God,
begotten of his Father before all worlds,
God of God, Light of Light,
very God of very God,
begotten, not made,
being of one substance with the Father;
by whom all things were made;
who for us men and for our salvation
came down from heaven,
and was incarnate by the Holy Ghost
of the Virgin Mary,
and was made man;
and was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate;
he suffered and was buried;
and the third day he rose again
according to the Scriptures,
and ascended into heaven,
and sitteth on the right hand of the Father;
and he shall come again, with glory,
to judge both the quick and the dead;
whose kingdom shall have no end.

And I believe in the Holy Ghost the Lord, and Giver of Life,
who proceedeth from the Father [and the Son];
who with the Father and the Son together
is worshipped and glorified;
who spake by the Prophets.
And I believe one holy Catholic and Apostolic Church;
I acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins;
and I look for the resurrection of the dead,
and the life of the world to come. AMEN.

Element's statement of faith credits the affirmations of the Nicene Creed.

Many, if not most, writings in this category [Apostolic Fathers] were treated as Scripture alongside the Gospels and apostles' epistles by some Christian churches in the second century. In fact, one way of understanding this category is as the books that came to be judged orthodox but barely missed being judged canonical, inspired Scripture when the Christian canon was being determined. In other words, these writings were hardly distinguished from the writings of the apostles by some Christians in the Roman Empire but were ultimately excluded because they received no universal agreement as Scripture . . .
-- Roger E. Olsen, The Story of Christian Theology

I've been reading a translation of the Apostolic Fathers lately, and, despite their inclination toward moralism, they're very refreshing to read. In fact, if Christians used the Apostolic Fathers as a theological resource on certain issues, they could help shed light on the way many first-generation believers viewed certain cultural and doctrinal issues. For example ...

Abortion

You shall not murder ... you shall not abort a child or commit infanticide.

-- Didache 2:2

Baptism

Now concerning baptism, baptize as follows: after you have reviewed all these things, baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit in running water. But if you have no running water, then baptize in some other water; and if you are not able to baptize in cold water, then do so in warm. But if you have neither, then pour water on the head three times in the name of the Father and Son and Holy Spirit.
-- Didache 7:1-3

The Godhead

The Lord submitted to suffer for our souls, even though he is Lord of the whole world, to whom God said at the foundation of the world, "Let us make humankind according to our image and likeness," . . .

-- Barnabas 5:5

Those are only a few examples of certain theological and moral issues that the Apostolic Fathers have something to say about. To be sure, the Apostolic Fathers are not Scripture, but, as Olsen said, they are by-and-large considered orthodox. Sure, in many ways they truly didn't understand the Gospel of Grace, but they didn't have the luxury of the full revelation of Scripture that we now possess.

Furthermore, it's important to note that the Apostolic Fathers were the guys who, in many instances, knew the apostles. For example, Polycarp was a disciple of John. While they didn't have the full canon of Scripture to rely on, they did have a close association with the apostles. They were Christianity's first theologians.

In The New York Times yesterday Bono, in his usually poetic way, recounted his Easter experience and compared it to his inclination toward "economic redemption" (as seen in debt relief to Africa).

Christianity, it turns out, has a rhythm — and it crescendos this time of year. The rumba of Carnival gives way to the slow march of Lent, then to the staccato hymnals of the Easter parade. From revelry to reverie. After 40 days in the desert, sort of ...

It’s a transcendent moment for me — a rebirth I always seem to need. Never more so than a few years ago, when my father died. I recall the embarrassment and relief of hot tears as I knelt in a chapel in a village in France and repented my prodigal nature — repented for fighting my father for so many years and wasting so many opportunities to know him better. I remember the feeling of “a peace that passes understanding” as a load lifted. Of all the Christian festivals, it is the Easter parade that demands the most faith — pushing you past reverence for creation, through bewilderment at the idea of a virgin birth, and into the far-fetched and far-reaching idea that death is not the end. The cross as crossroads. Whatever your religious or nonreligious views, the chance to begin again is a compelling idea. . . .

Strangely, as we file out of the small stone church into the cruel sun, I think of Warren Buffett and Bill Gates, whose now combined fortune is dedicated to the fight against extreme poverty. Agnostics both, I believe. I think of Nelson Mandela, who has spent his life upholding the rights of others. A spiritual man — no doubt. Religious? I’m told he would not describe himself that way.

Not all soul music comes from the church.

Read the whole thing, if you're so inclined.

I was in the checkout lane at our local mega-grocery store yesterday and I ended up standing behind one of my favorite theologians, Roger Olson. I was itching to engage him in a conversation on modalism, but he seemed to be in a hurry, so I chickened out.

I just thought I'd share that with the world. I'm a chicken.

I was just looking for Easter Poems for our Easter Bulletin and I found a picture of C.S. Lewis' wife's grave. The engraving has a mini-poem. Here it is:

"Here the whole world (stars, water, air
And field, and forest as they were
Reflected in a single mind)
Like cast off clothes was left behind
In ashes, yet with hope that she,
Re-born from holy poverty,
In lenten lands, hereafter may
Resume them on her Easter Day."

How awesome is that! What he's saying, is that Easter makes a difference. For those of us who are in Christ, just as Jesus had his "Easter day", his Resurrection day, so will we.

And the reference to "Lenten lands" (the same as Douglas Greshem's autobiography) is, if I understand it right a reference to the fact that "Lent" is the days of preparation up until Easter. So living here on earth was for Joy, as it is all Christians, the days of preparation for her very own Easter Day...

Because Christ did it first!

Lent means "40" and is a reference to the 40 years Moses spent in the wilderness preparing to lead his people from slavery, and the 40 years Israel spent in the wilderness preparing for the Promised Land, and the 40 days Jesus spent preparing for his ministry.

So if this earthly life of ours are our "Lenten Lands" then we are in the wilderness preparing for exodus from slavery, preparing for the Promised Land, preparing for ministry(service) in heaven...and preparing for our own Easter Day!

We are preparing for our Resurrection day. We will each have one, because Christ had one too. That's part of the joy of Easter. Because Jesus walked out of his grave, alive, more alive than ever before, gloriously victorious over death, so will you, because he went first.

The first "Easter" guaranteed that there will be many more...one for every Christian.

I think that's awesome.

Perhaps you Lewis scholars can elaborate on the meaning of this poem more for me....like what does "holy poverty mean? And to whose mind is he referring in the first two lines? Joy's or God's? I love the way he rhymes this whole thing.

AND I'm still looking for a good Easter verse, so please put any suggestions in comments. Who knows, maybe it'll show up in our church bulletin. :)

I truly believe that the first step toward surrender to God is repentance. John the Baptist preached it. JESUS proclaimed it. Peter said to do it before you're baptized. Paul hammered on it. And, finally, the Lord again reiterated it multiple times in the book of Revelation.

I recently listened to a debate between a Trinitarian and a proponent of Oneness theology. The Oneness guy (a Pentecostal preacher), I believe, lost the debate, but he made a valid point at the end of the exchange. He said he thought there should be a heavier emphasis on repentance among evangelicals in general. He explained that repentance isn't merely saying you're sorry for your sin, but a deep, gut-wrenching understanding that you are despicable, an offense to God's holiness, and deserving of eternal separation from His presence. It's a rock bottom realization that you and your sin are filthy rags, and that you are in need -- dire need -- of a Savior.

I don't think a need for repentance can be overemphasized. We must repent of our selfishness, our materialism, our sensuality, our vanity, our idolatry, our avarice, our apathy, our gluttony ... everything. Repentance isn't just for the unconverted; it's for believers too.

The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent . . .
-- Acts 17:30 (ESV)

Sometimes I like to listen to arguments against what I believe.

I think that if what I believe is true, then it ought to be able to withstand tough questions, right? Plus I think one way to be ready to give an answer for the hope that you have in Christ Jesus is to prepare yourself.

That said, how would you respond to this guy?

In this interview N.T. Wright explains some of the differences that he has with John Piper on justification. (Click here for more on the Piper-Wright justification brouhaha.)

Do any of you armchair theologians out there have a problem with this statement by Wright:

Finally, for Piper justification through Christ alone is the same in the future (on the last day) as in the present, whereas for Paul, whom I am following very closely at this point, the future justification is given on the basis of the Spirit-generated life that the justified-by-faith-in-the-present person then lives. In fact, the omission of the Spirit from many contemporary Reformed statements of justification is one of their major weaknesses.

Driving home yesterday, I heard this guy on the radio quoting the above statement from Wright and going off on Wright like a maniac. (I don't listen to that guy's radio show too often, because he's, well, annoying and arrogant.) The guy essentially accused Wright of quasi-heretical views by claiming that "justification is given on the basis of the Spirit-generated life that the justified-by-faith-in-the-present person lives." In other words, since Wright emphasized a need to "work out your salvation," he's a damnable heretic.

The radio guy also dropped U-bomb on Wright, alluding to a hint of closet Universalism in this statement by Wright: "I set justification within the larger Pauline context, where it always comes, of God’s purposes to fulfill his covenant promise to Abraham and so to rescue the whole creation, humankind of course centrally included, from sin and death."

What do you all think?

See that you do not look down on one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.
-- Matthew 18:10

It is a common question, because it is unfortunately a common occurrence: losing a baby. I think we all tend to believe that God receives departed infants into heaven, but perhaps we're not sure why we believe (other than that the alternative seems unconscionable). Many times grieving families seek assurance. This post is my imperfect attempt at offering cause for hope.

Read the rest of this entry . . .

Mark Driscoll's latest blog post on Silence is great. We talked about this at a recent Element small group, so I found it timely.

A taste:

It was a very normal day until I realized that I was actively destroying my own soul.

The day began with my alarm jolting me awake. I immediately turned on my BlackBerry to hear it chime for each voicemail and email that had been left while I slept. I stepped into the shower where I listened to my waterproof radio. I then turned on the television to catch some news while I dressed. Driving to work I tuned in to some talk-radio banter.

Throughout the day the chime on my laptop kept ringing as email arrived, and my cell phone continued to vibrate and ring on my hip. Before long, I needed a break, and I put on my iPod to go for a walk.

On the drive home, I again listened to the radio in an effort to drown out the blaring horns of frustrated fellow commuters. After eating dinner and tucking my five children into bed, I turned on the television to watch shows I had recorded on my Tivo.

As I drifted off to sleep, it dawned on me that I had not had one minute of silence during my entire day. It was possible, I realized, that I could live the rest of my life without ever again experiencing silence.

In that moment, God deeply convicted me that I was addicted to the false trinity of our day, the gods known as Noise, Hurry, and Crowds. I remembered the words of missionary martyr Jim Elliot, who said, “I think the devil has made it his business to monopolize on three elements: noise, hurry, crowds . . . Satan is quite aware of the power of silence.”

Read the whole thing.

Saturday morning I told my girls that I would take them to see Bolt at the theater that afternoon.
They played sweetly together most of the morning, but midway through the day they just kept getting on each other's nerves, and after several warnings to stop didn't prevent them from aggravating each other, I finally employed the nuclear option. "Never mind on the movie," I said and explained why.

An hour or so later, I was giving them a bath in preparation for errands. I had decided that I would spring the movie on them as a surprise and use my changed mind as a way to explain grace to them (which Becky and I do a lot).

During the bath, Grace said, "I've gotta get my neck clean because I can't take dirt on my neck into the movie theater."

"Why do you think you're going to a movie?" I asked. "I told you we weren't."

She looked at me unfazed and said, "Yeah, but I prayed to God and said I'd be sweet and I know he'll give me a second chance."

Turns out after I left the room after taking the movie plan away, both girls decided to pray to God to apologize for not being sweet and to ask for another chance.

Isn't it awesome that we worship the God of second (and third and fourth and fifth . . .) chances?

It was also weird and fun to have been the unwitting answer to my daughters' prayer!

(We're still working on the concept of being sweet not to avoid consequences or to have consequences rescinded but because it's the right thing to do. :-)

Been listening to Francis Chan's "The End of the World" series. It's great stuff.

In one message he was talking about God pre-Creation, and how He had no lack. He says something like:

"In the beginning, you weren't there. And it was okay. Everything was fine. You weren't needed. You didn't fix anything by showing up."

I seriously LOL'd on that comment.
But it's awesome and makes a great point.

We don't complete God, and life isn't about us.

"We are all ministers of the Gospel. Some of us just happen to be clergymen."

-- Martin Luther

All week long at GDC, leading up to this Reformation Day, I have been posting 19 theses a day on the reformation of the American Church. Today I thought I'd nail them to the Thinklings front door in their entirety.
This is also serves as our entry in Tim Challies' 3rd Annual Reformation Day Symposium. Check his site today for more reflections and commentary on Reformation Day by some of the best bloggers in the 'sphere.
---

95 Theses on the Reformation of the Evangelical Church

Read the rest of this entry . . .

My latest at SearchWarp:

20 Ways to Smoke Cigars to the Glory of God

My latest piece at SearchWarp:

The Sovereignty of God and the Washing of Dishes

An excerpt:

Jesus is Christ is lord over my heart, and he is lord over my hands, and he is lord over what I do with those hands, and he is lord over what I say in my heart while I'm doing it. In submitting to the lordship of Christ, then, I do not treat washing dishes as wasting time I could be spending doing something "meaningful," but rather as a service to those who eat in my home, as a service to those who would have to wash the dishes if I did not, as an offering of thanksgiving to God that I have food to eat, dishes to eat it on, and running water inside my home to clean with.

To paraphrase C.S. Lewis (I think), there is not a square inch of our lives that is not claimed by God and counterclaimed by ourselves. If we believe God is sovereign, however, we will see all of life as mission and be led to submit the square inches we otherwise hold so tightly to the Maker of inches and hands.

I've posted my first "vlog" at Gospel-Driven Church. You can watch it here.

It's longer and rougher than I'd like (I recorded it at one a.m. this morning after much feasting and merriment with friends, and it was pretty much all off the top of my head), but I'll probably start trying to do one a week over there, hopefully improving on the pithiness and quality. :-)

Let me know what you think!