a note much later

I'm going to continue to leave this site here for archival reasons, for now; I think some of this discussion was not only valuable to me, as I reached what I only now--almost five years later--know this conversation was really about, but may well be of value to others as they discern these things.

I expect to be received into full communion with the Church, that is, to receive Confirmation and First Communion in unity with our bishop (here in the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston) and all the bishops, including His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI, at the Easter Vigil, A.D. 2011.

No, I didn't see that coming when I wrote the entries on this blog, either. And though I leave them here as an archive, I want to be clear that in anything where these speculate against the authority or teachings of the Church of Rome, I do not defend them; such words were spoken in good conscience, in one sense, but in conscience ill formed, in a better sense.

Pax Christi,
Peter G. Epps

Continuing the Conversation: A Question for Doug

OK, for now I give up. I think that as we find things to comment on, we should return to Frame's book, but I want to hop into a side question, for a moment.

Doug: Do you find it odd that we who are doing this blog are both on trajectories away from denominational American evangelicalism?

I'm increasingly focussed on local churches, whose locality is as important as their cooperation, on my view; and on international cooperation, specifically, on Japanese churches working with American churches (there are a number of key, and nation-specific, problems we can address).

You seem to be heading into catholicity, Anglicanism being no more strictly a denomination than Rome or Antioch (albeit Anglicans and especially American Episcopalians often just act like another denomination); and in the missionary wing of that church, no less.

Any observations about that? Do you think this is going to be a generational tendency?

Response to Doug -- Chapter 8

I'm tracking with you 100%, here:

Once again, I will submit that the way forward is not “top-down”, but “bottom-up” – ecumenism will only work between local congregations where the members of all concerned bodies can come together, live and worship together, and develop the trust required for such a reunification to work. And rather than abandon the theological debates from the past 1600 years and re-invent the theological wheels, let us who have access to these resources rather use them for all they are worth.

Absolutely. We may need to think our way carefully forward from the early confessions that help us be sure we're close enough to even talk intelligibly to each other, but we needn't abandon all that we've learned from centuries of debate--sometimes godly and edifying, sometimes carnal and destructive, but always part of God's Providential sharing of Himself with His Body in the churches. Rather, we should seek to incorporate the lessons we learn from the discussion into our living and teaching, while still avoiding the tendency to believe we've arrived--or that we can never arrive.

Which is where I'm differing a little with you, Doug (thinking now of your response to me). I don't think we should kid ourselves that total agreement is a requirement here-and-now, and probably we're nuts if we think anything like "agreement on everything we think is important" is possible over any but very small groups of people (who tend to sprout idiosyncratic senses of significance in a real hurry). What I do think, though, is that, if we are Christians, we will definitely agree in The End, and that reasoning from that principle and the principle that the Spirit's calling in every believer is toward renewing of mind and of life into Christ-likeness, we are going to have more constructive debate than otherwise. I was really re-stating perspectivalism in a less tactical and more, I hope, hopeful way.

However, I think we should be careful about emphasizing the "total agreement is not possible here-and-now" to the detriment of our need to find as much agreement as we possibly can, beginning with those areas which are most crucial to our faith in Christ's Work and the Father He revealed; and probably also beginning, of necessity, among those who have as much agreement as they can manage already. That is, we have to be teaching one another and educating one another's consciences; otherwise, there is no real, constructive meaning to toleration of differing views. Disagreement "until we can see better" may be tolerable, but should definitely be uncomfortable, so long as we believe Christ has revealed truth we should know and teach rightly; disagreement indefinitely or resignedly accepted seems to me a positive evil no better than denominationalism, especially if we turn such acceptance into a positive virtue, rather than the necessary response to an unpleasant and disagreeable, temporary condition (like our mortal sufferings with-but-away-from Christ ought always be known to be).

And now, I have to disagree a bit:

For an example, take the thorny question of who should be baptized. I have (now) been on both sides of the debate regarding the validity of paedobaptism. And I see that each side has emphases that need respecting. Paedos (I now see) recognize that human beings are more than isolated rational minds – we live and learn in community, and faith can be seen and exercised apart from full rational comprehension. Credos, on the other hand, see the need for baptism to not be divorced from a living faith, that the ritual can be elevated outside of its original intent and lead to presumption rather than covenant faithfulness.

I really don't want to disagree, but I can't help it.

I have to see baptism as a "boundary condition" of participation in the Christian discourse, like communion. I can't see how churches which disagree on who can be called Christian, and on who is a member of the church, can still speak intelligibly of uniting our churches.

On the other hand, and giving as much ground as I know how, I can see this: I (and any church I have ever belonged to) find it easy to recognize those of differing views on baptism, but otherwise Biblical faith in the same Lord and Gospel, as true believers; that is, we can all see that a baptized believer in Christ who believes his child is validly baptized before conversion, who I know to be wrong in that belief--or vice versa, for sake of argument--is no less a baptized believer in Christ for having improperly baptized his child (or not). If we can see that, then how can we not see the possibility of having valid church-to-church recognition of the baptized believers, for the sake of discussion and fellowship, where there is uncertainty among members of both sides as to the propriety of their historical practice in this matter?

Moreover, where we can factor out the matters of church membership (through recognition of only baptized believers as members of the church) and false profession (through clear teaching against any notion of baptism as a basis for profession of faith in Christ), then there might be possibilities for further fellowship. I suspect that some of the Presby/Reformed Baptist fellowships have been working from this model.

However, having given that ground, I'm keenly aware of the ambiguity I've stepped into. Here's the thing: the only way to move credo and paedo into closer fellowship that I can see is to either sway one side into essential agreement with the other, or to persuade both sides to be sufficiently uncertain that they arrange an institutional coexistence. However, the first is simply the elimination of one view or the other (which would be desirable, if we could just all be sure we knew which one was right); and the second seems to be a net loss to doctrine, no matter who turns out to be right--is it not?

Unless it becomes possible to remove the ambiguity created by paedo/credo coexistence concerning the relation between "baptized," "church member," and "believer" (I take it as a given that only a baptized believer, who is necessarily a member of a church, is authentically called "Christian"), I find it inconceivable that we could move beyond that.

But let us try to imagine a world where only paedo/credo remained to divide evangelicals. Is it conceivable, that having sorted through all the other debates of the centuries, we could have gotten past the other issues, without having also shed considerable light and narrowed the gap, or even eliminated the question concerning baptism? I find it inconceivable, and so I hope that as we work toward the greatest agreement possible, beginning among those who can agree most and on those things we are most compelled to agree upon, that we will see even the impenetrable walls broken into mere detritus.

Can we achieve it totally? Nope. My post-structuralist tendencies (not to say I'm slipping into something more comfortable, though I am uncomfortable with skirting the issues) tell me that totalities achievable within our [sinful, mortal] discourse are pretty unlikely to be desireable. However, we will be brought to it in The End, and it cannot hurt to try our best to approximate it, here and now, and then toss in an "Even so, Come quickly, Lord Jesus!" as often as possible, for good measure.

Chapter 8: Dealing with Doctrinal Differences

I believe we had planned to skip forward a bit from here on out. Chapter 8, dealing as it does with the question of doctrinal differences, is pretty unavoidable.

I find most of the chapter very helpful, especially (and this is Frame's forte and one of my main reasons for liking him) the section on perspectivalism.

As is my wont, I'm going to grab a few chunks and analyze their tendencies:

Vern Poythress recommends, and I concur, that in situations like this we try to "pre-empt" the other person's fundamental concerns. Rather than going on and on about the sovereignty of God, the Calvinist should seek to show that his view does better justice to human responsibility and freedom. The Arminian should seek to show that his view results in a credible doctrine of divine sovereignty. I do believe that we will be more likely to see our own errors if we make an effort to consider the issues from the perspectives of others. Certainly this is required if we are to show biblical love for one another in the process of theological discussion. And certainly we will maximize our understanding of Scripture if we are able to see the same truth from a maximum number of perspectives.

I am sure Frame and Poythress both wish better than their rhetoric allows, but the "pre-empt" language still assumes a framework in which the desired goal is to convince/persuade/compel the other person to believe what I already affirm. I'm going to show that his concepts/concerns are "really" better expressed in my words. This is and remains a form of violence, though: the use of logic as coercive, rather than explanatory and corrective, force.

I suggest that we need to move a step further in this direction, one in keeping with a truly charitable hermeneutic: We need to affirm that, if we are both believers, then we are going to be in agreement, and seek a language in which that is possible. In order to accomplish that, we will (similar idea with less violent language) attempt to identify the desiderata of each view and affirm only and exactly the language of Scripture relevant to each view and then attempt to identify any teachings which invalidate any language of Scripture.

Thus, in Calvinist/non-Calvinist dialogue (real Arminians are as rare as people Jean would recognize as Calvinian), I urge the Calvinist to affirm a human monergism in sin; and the non-Calvinist to affirm a divine monergism in salvation. When we can pull that off (I think we can, if we get off our positional and confessional high horses and put together language that shows what we affirm in Christ, rather than what we are blessedly inconsistent with in the life of the church), we'll be getting somewhere.

[In the meantime, of course, I'll be over here waving "God does the work of salvation, but you just cain't make God the one who does the work of sin!" like a good not-a-Calvinist.]

In my view, only a very minimal subscription should be required of church members in general. The conditions for church membership should be no narrower than the Scriptures' conditions for belonging to the kingdom of God. Anyone who can make a credible profession of faith in Christ should be welcomed into the church (together, I must add as a paedobaptist, with his/her children). "Credible profession" is not a precise concept. It should normally16 involve the willingness to confess that Jesus is one's own Lord and Savior: that Jesus, who is both God and man, died for the sins of his people to bring them forgiveness, and that he now has full authority over our lives as the resurrected, living Lord (cf. the biblical summaries of the gospel mentioned in an earlier chapter).

It should also include baptism, though I suspect that Frame, being Presbyterian, is thinking of baptism as the act by which induction into the Body occurs, rather than in my more characteristic (Baptist) language of baptism as an immediate prerequisite for active participation in the Body. I'm open to modified language, here.

I just want to point out, though, that Frame's "I must add" represents a major problem for his program. There is pretty much no way you're ever going to convince all the churches to accept unregenerate persons as members of the Body, and that's before one considers whether (as I most assuredly do) God would prevent any such unity in serious error.

This is symptomatic of a larger problem. There can be no unity arrived at by these means that is not a unity of doctrinal compromise, a failure of Christian confession on one or both parts. The question becomes, for me, how can we promote cooperation which begins among those who can cooperate without such failures; and how can we educate our consciences so that our newer, truer positions have the benefit of enabling us to unite with ever more of Christ's People?

We ought to do some more thinking about what doctrines really are non-negotiable. The Evangelical Free Church requires professors at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School to hold a premillenial eschatology; but it permits latitude on the differences between Calvinists and Arminians. In my view that indicates a rather large overestimation of the importance of millennial views and a large underestimation of the importance of the doctrine of predestination. But perhaps I am wrong. The whole question of what is and what isn't tolerable within the church has never been systematically analyzed.

Frame's on to something, here, but he's still campaigning (through his asides, which take up rather sizeable portions of his book, added together) for unity on his own terms, albeit very tactfully.

Now, as it happens, I'm inclined to think that neither one's precise millennial view, nor one's Calvinist/Arminian predilections, are so significant as Frame/TEDS think. At the same time, I think one could successfully articulate some highly useful parameters for an orthodox view:

1. Christians must affirm that Christ has risen in a physical body, and that we will, too;
2. Christians must affirm that Christ will return, judge, and reign on a re-created Earth;
3. Christians must affirm that God is in no way the Author of sin;
4. Christians must affirm that a sinner is in no way able to save himself.

But that's all pretty much minimal pre-Nicene creedal doctrine. We don't need elaborate constuctions of inherited depravity to assert its universality and totality; we don't need elaborate foreknowledge schemes to assert that God never made anyone sin; we don't need charts of the empires from Daniel's dream to affirm with Job that our Redeemer will stand on Earth.

That does rule out some positions affirmed by some current church members, of course; they will either repent or prove themselves false professors. It does not, however, require that we affirm entire systems of multi-layered extrapolations from and interpellations with Scripture, in order to be Biblical.

I think Frame has helpfully grappled with some serious thoughts, here. The problem of establishing what is "essential" has plagued us for some time, and I think some measure of perspectivalism is vital, though it must be very carefully distinguished from any form of pluralism/relativism. However, the role our traditional language and denominational constraints have played in re-defining the language of Scripture away from that which God wrote through His faithful servants should not be underestimated, either.

Chapter 5 -- Response to Doug

Long time no see! I'm, er, back. . . .

I think our paths are more-or-less exactly together on this point:

[Regarding Frame's assertion that issues such as paedo/credobaptism must be solved by "the courts of the one true church"--Doug, did you note the weird plural, there?] Uh, I think not. You aren't going to get a "court of the one true church" until you solve this issue. If this issue is going to be resolved, it will have to be done on a *local, congregational, and ecumenical* level, and by the time Frame's "courts" came into being, this question would have already been dealt with.

Exactly. I can't get from multi-denominational hierarchy to mono-denominational hierarchy (at which point the meaning of "denomination" would finally collapse into "catholic" again) without first either solving or overruling all the denominational problems. Surely, there should be some areas in which we could cooperate this way, and I guess those for whom the existence of denominations is non-negotiable will have to keep on trying that.

What I don't understand is the need to do the back-and-forth of "destroy denominations" while embracing a strategy which requires strengthening them. It seems grossly unlikely that, say, a Presby-Lutheran mondo-denomination would feel the need to cooperate with, say, the Methodists that a small-town Baptist church feels to cooperate with the Methodist church across the way. Since when has strengthening a hierarchy ever improved total cooperation?

Seems to me that churches, absent the denominational ties that bind them, would be much more inclined to cooperate with other churches--some based on proximity (and leading to the combination of churches which, while their denominations own their leadership and their facilities, will never happen) and some based on similarity of emphasis, goals, or vision (which will help strengthen and preserve the various gifts in which various groups excel).

Chapter 5 -- Reiteration (gougatsu ato)

Five months (that would be finals, a trip to Australia, surgery, three weeks hospitalized, and starting a new college teaching job) ago, we had just reached Chapter 5. We agreed to start doing two chapters at a time, to speed things up (posting speed, not reading speed, being the chief difficulty, here). I suggest that, since Chapter 5's already under weigh (or "underway"), and since Chapter 6 starts a new Part of the book, we do 6 & 7 together, and so forth. . . .

So, Chapter 5. I'm also a bit underwhelmed here, but so far that's been my reaction to a lot of the argumentation in the book. I keep hoping for more, because Frame has better stuff than this; perhaps the really meaty stuff is going to come later. I can't help thinking, though, that the prolegomena is more than half the argument, in a case like this, and I think he's failed to make his premises clear and unobjectionable; for me, the same objections keep repeating in each chapter, until he addresses them.

Let me grab two chunks as focii for discussion:

But as we've seen, God did not establish a zoo, but a church. His plan for dealing with estrangements is not amicable divorce, but mutual discipline within the church (Matt. 18:15-20; 1 Cor. 5) (which can, to be sure, sometimes lead to excommunication when a really serious problem cannot otherwise be overcome).

When the denominations are most true to their traditions, they are most ecumenical.

Here is my problem with Frame's analysis, as someone from an Independent Baptist background, who, like other independents and congregationalists of all stripes (including Free Presbyterians), is more sharply critical of denominations than Frame, but from an entirely different angle: Frame's critique of denominationalism is really just another turn of the denominational wheel. Acting on his analysis, it seems to me we will necessarily just re-create the conditions which led to the denominationalism of the present.

Frame is right that "God did not establish a zoo [where "harmony" is the product of barriers between natural enemies/competitors], but a church." He is right that "amicable divorce" is not an option in church discipline: there is reconciliation, and there is excommunication, and in between is a state of sin for any party not actively seeking reconciliation. This demands our attention and our repentance.

However, Frame seems to me to be mistaken when he believes that a hierarchical One True Church (or, as Doug's been calling it, Unified Church Government--I really want a GUT acronym, but can't get there) with "courts" (what is it with Presbyterians and the judicial metaphor?) is the answer. He seems to be self-defeating when he teaches that the denominations themselves are a middle ground between isolated churches and the One True Church; if that is the case, then it is the unification of denominations, which requires their strengthening and enlarging until some absorb/merge with others, until finally only one remains, with only the excommunicated outside. . . .

But wait, from the standpoint of Rome or Antioch, that's exactly what there is today.

And further, from the standpoint that produces the Lutheran and Reformed and Episcopal denominations, Frame's midway strategy--let denominations grow and dialogue, and eventually they'll work out their differences and merge--is exactly what's underway. Granted, in some cases, it's been a more fissiparous process than they'd hoped, but that's still the calculated goal: we'll be true to our confessional tradition, and sooner or later they'll get it right and join us.

This won't help to "destroy denominations," unless we really believe that (a) all such historical differences can be worked out through some heretofore unexampled dialogic phenomenon or (b) one denomination really is in possession of such worldly power as would enable it to enforce a "join or be excommunicated" decree meaningfully. Case (a) is the hope of ecumenists in the less positive sense; case (b) is the hope of, well, medieval Roman Catholics and, if the stories are true, the 20th-C Russian Orthodox.

More to the point, this puts hope where there's no basis for hope: in the legitimacy of denominational hierarchies above the local churches. Frame clearly (as a committed Presbyterian must, I suppose) believes that supra-church hierarchies are manifestations of the church. I remain, Baptistically and Biblically, quite archly skeptical on the point.

That a local church may organize its affairs in any number of ways, I have no doubt. That it might choose to cooperate with other churches in any number of ways, I have no doubt. That the churches are under obligation to cooperate and to communicate with each other, I have so little doubt that I'm happy to join Frame in his desire to lead our churches in repentance on the point. That any offices exist outside the local church, which have authority over the local church, I have grave doubts.

Christ did not establish any denominational hierarchies. Not only did He not establish many (as Frame argues), He did not even establish one. He sent out His own Apostles, who on the basis of that special sending formed churches, who communicated and cooperated by sending messengers from one to another (including, as even the Twelve acknowledged, sending the Apostles out from particular churches to particular churches--though Christ's special commission to certain Apostles was still a unique grace to the church). Those churches are His Church, their members are His members, and there is no need nor call nor promise for anything else.

When the churches disagreed, they did not consult "courts" or denominational higher-ups. They sought, simultaneously, two forms of guidance: Apostolic authority (available today only in Scripture form) and the conscience of the whole church. They formed their conscience by, in addition to seeking right authority, sending elders from each church to a council, where the matter was given due deliberation.

Now, if Frame wants to suggest that a council of the churches (which are The Church) equals a denominational hierarchy, that's his prerogative. What seems clear to me, though, is that the existence of modern denominational structures--with offices, finances, bylaws, parachurch organizations, schools, seminaries, and often even political entanglements--is the chief barrier to the cooperation of the churches as The Church. That should be Frame's point, given the force of some of the stronger arguments up to now.

He seems too unwilling to cross his own denomination, though, and so tries to argue that we can defeat denominationalism by . . . being better denominationalists.

When the denominations are most true to their traditions, they are most ecumenical.

Call me a skeptic on that one.

Interminable delays

Well, they will have an end, so that was hyperbole. Nonetheless, I am likely to be away from my 'Net connection for the next three days or so. Will post on Chapter 5 as soon as I'm able--it's a meaty one.

Cheers,
PGE


UPDATE: Delays continue. Will try to post on Chapters 5 & 6 ASAP, but will be in Australia beginning tomorrow. I'm sorry to say my schedule is likely to be massively disrupted for the next month or so, between a trip to Australia and some pending surgery. PGE

Response to Doug--Chapter 4

You note, in response to Frame's list:

1. Denominationalism has greatly weakened church discipline. The hypothetical example he gives could be all too real. Without a sense of mutual belonging to a greater Body, or a shared vision of responsibility to that Body, such a situation could easily happen – and does. One could argue that sociological factors (such as our individualism, drive for growth uber alles, etc), also feed into this problem.

This is my personal vote for "number one problem of denominations." It is the same problem as comparison-shopping, really, as all of these amount to a replacement of submission with selection in our relationship to the church. (I'll get to your number one in a moment.)

In a previous post, I used a similar example, that of a church which remarries divorcees who were refused marriage by a neighboring church. I am still looking for the suggestion which improves on this situation; in any scenario I can foresee, the church with the popular view will simply assimilate the less popular, but more biblical, church--effectively annihilating the witness to that particular truth in that culture. We have to have more than "abolish denominations" in play, if we wish to avoid that; yet it is clear that the status quo, in which the adulterer can simply "shop around" until he finds a "tolerant" and "inclusive" church that "accepts" him and shows him "unconditional love," is unacceptable.

Now, as to your number-one problem with denominations, regarding the maldistribution of gifts in the Body (among the denominations):

The problem is that we’ve essentially divided the Body up by its functions, as Paul explicitly warned us in I Corinthians 12 NOT to do.

I basically agree, with a caveat insofar as I still think that God will give the local church what it needs. The question is, though, are we using everything He's given us? Or are we hiding and distorting certain things to fit our frameworks and distinguish ourselves from others?

I think there's something in that side of the critique, though, especially where the old "It takes evangelistic unction to make orthodoxy function" sort of problem crops up. I know that, as a non-Calvinist intellectual, it's frustrating to me to find myself compelled to consult Reformed, Catholic, or Orthodox sources for well-reasoned historical judgments about doctrine, while at the same time having to systematically disagree with key elements of their arguments. Where are the great dogmatists on "my side"? The sad answer is, virtually nonexistent. The temptation to "join the club" doctrinally in order to get in on the discourse is strong; the temptation to reject the discourse altogether so I "don't rock the boat" is, on the other hand, also strong. It's no wonder I've seen Christians from non-liturgical traditions running off to Rome or Antioch to replace that tension with "ours is the one, true church" pride.

Is the answer to create a "one, true church"--as Frame seems to think it is--though? You and I seem to agree it isn't. So how can we insure that our local churches are not suppressing the Lord's work in their members?

Chapter 4 -- Comparative Damages

[sorry for the delay. Uh, blame the heat. Or the busy weekend. Or Harry Potter. Or Trogdor the Burninator. Gotta blame it on somethin' . . .]

I am happy that Doug got the jump on me. His way of responding to a chapter makes a better lead-in than mine, and I hope he'll take advantage of my sloth to get in the last word, too. I'll use my response to Doug to get into the particulars, more.

I tend to, having read the text, choose some one piece to gnaw on (Doug digests, I ruminate). In this case, it's surprisingly tiny; I'm interested in the form of the argument encapsulated in his concluding remark for this chapter, and with what it may reveal about Frame's approach--and what we may have to deal with as we engage the topic further:

There may be other problems of denominationalism which I have not mentioned. But after this survey, can anyone seriously say that denominationalism does not cause practical problems for the church? Can anyone deny that there would be considerable benefits in abolishing denominations?

Let us assume that we answer Frame's first question with a resounding "No!" Does it follow that we must answer with the expected "No!" to the second?

I'd like to reframe (no pun intended, professor) the argument just a bit. In order to build a new multibillion dollar stadium, the city of Los Angeles has just bulldozed hundreds of old apartment buildings. Those apartment buildings included one that was an amazingly important architectural treasure (unlikely, but this is my hypothetical, OK?); they also included a number that had been "condemned" by way of suspicious fires set by shady fellows in zoot suits. Now, a mediocre sports team (let us say that Los Angeles just acquired, oh, the Astros) is holding forth in a very expensive stadium that barely pays the rent, while exacerbating the housing shortage.

Now, can anyone seriously say that this urban renewal project does not cause practical problems for the city? I should hope we would answer, "No!" And can anyone deny that there would be considerable benefits to demolishing the stadium?

Well, of course, we certainly could deny that. And we might be right. Especially if the stadium were demolished, say, by shady fellows in zoot suits dynamiting it in the night, leaving smoking rubble all over the place. Or terrorists nuking it during a game. Or even the city fathers deciding to raze the place in favor of a housing project (housing projects run by city governments being generally describable in terms of Dante's famous poem--and no, not the Paradiso).

In other words, we can admit that we arrived at the status quo in a bad way, for bad reasons, with bad results, and we may still be rightly convinced that merely abolishing the status quo conveys no benefits. The question is, "How can we do better?" and not merely, "When will we do something?"

And that is what Frame has yet to answer, and until he does so his belaboring the "bad, bad, bad" denominations is much like telling humans that aging is bad.

Sure it is. But what else can we do?