Author Archives: Svigel

About Svigel

Professor of Systematic and Historical Theology at Dallas Theological Seminary, author, husband, father.

Scriptures I Could Do Without, Part 3: John 17:14–16

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We all have them—passages of Scripture that we’d rather weren’t there . . . little unalterable truths we wish would just disappear . . . statements about God or humanity that we’d like to revise. But no matter how hard we try to re-translate or re-interpret them, those convicting verses just won’t budge. And by the very fact that they torment us, they demand our attention . . . and submission.

In the World, Not of It

“Incarnational ministry” has become a common catchphrase for many evangelicals involved in missions at home and abroad. It is often contrasted with a “colonial” approach that allegedly sought to set up Christian outposts that promoted Western language, culture, and values—little islands of colonists who converted the natives not only to Christ, but also to capitalism. But an incarnational approach attempts to bring the message of Christ in words and works that incarnated Christ for the culture—becoming an Asian to the Asians, a Hippie to the Hippies, a Postmodern to the Postmoderns. In such a way we would be imitating Christ’s example, who became a human for the humans to minister to them as they were. As I reflect on Christianity’s relationship to the world, I return continually to the prayer of Christ.

“I have given them Your word; and the world has hated them, because they are not of the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not ask You to take them out of the world, but to keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of the world.” (John 17:14–16)

Living in the world, but not of the world . . . being here, but not belonging here . . . the tremendous discomfort I feel when I think about Christ’s words makes me wish He had never said them. Christians are called to engage culture (and to disengage from it), to immerse in it (and to float above it), to relate to it (and to transcend it). It’s so easy to fall into one ditch or the other rather than to navigate along that narrow road of biblical balance. The answer must be to follow Christ’s lead with “incarnational ministry,” but what does that look like?

The Incarnational Narrative

The Bible teaches that the eternal Son of God voluntarily left His heavenly place of glory and, without ceasing to be God, also became a finite human being with a real body of flesh (John 1:1, 14; Philippians 2:6–11). God took on humanity while still remaining full deity; and upon His death and resurrection, God the Son returned to His place of glory with a resurrected and glorified human nature. I call this the “incarnational narrative”—the true story of the Son of God’s “V”-shaped act of voluntary humiliation, death, resurrection, and exaltation.

If our vision of “incarnational ministry” is to truly follow the pattern of Christ, and if we are to carefully live out the mandate to be in the world but not of the world, we must keep this incarnational narrative always before us as the only model. But sometimes I get the feeling that what many regard as “incarnational ministry” actually reflects a different story of Jesus that doesn’t quite reflect the biblical pattern of the incarnation.

True and False Incarnational Ministry

I believe that aberrant views of the incarnation—or a complete disregard for the doctrine—can lead to Christians misapplying Christ’s cultural mandate while still waving the banner of “incarnational ministry.” An ancient “adoptionist” view taught that the heavenly Christ descended upon the earthly Jesus at His baptism, or suggested that Jesus was adopted into the level of divinity at the resurrection or ascension. A variation of adoptionism suggests that the human Jesus gradually became God incarnate, growing throughout His life more and more godly, holy, and full of the Spirit until he reached a state of divinized humanity.

Another false view is a “kenotic” christology. This view—often associated with nineteenth century liberal theologians—holds that when the Son of God emptied Himself at the incarnation, He gave up His divine nature and was—during the earthly ministry—only human. Deity was exchanged for humanity. The heavenly became merely earthly.

These views fall short of the biblical incarnation. Yet sometimes what is passed off today as “incarnational ministry” seems to reflect one of these errant views rather than an orthodox incarnational view.

For instance, an approach to culture that strips Christianity of its unique identity, jettisons ancient biblical and theological forms and structures, or loses its reverence and transcendence to a casual familiarity, looks a lot like a kenotic christology. By exchanging the heavenly, timeless, and transcendent for the earthly, mundane, and culture-bound, some Postmodern Christians immerse themselves in the world without ever coming up for air. There’s such a thing as being so relevant to culture that Christians lose a unique (and, yes, offensive) Christian identity. Christians should never feel compelled to downplay theology, biblical authority, truth, and holy living for the sake of a so-called incarnational ministry. The eternal Son of God brought full divinity, truth, and holiness with Him into the world . . . and He paid dearly for it. So should we.

At the same time, we should avoid an adoptionist approach that begins with the things of the world and tries to “Christianize” or “divinize them.” Yes, we ought to redeem the things of this world for God’s glory to the degree that they reflect the original goodness of God’s creation and the image of God. But this can easily fall into the error of assuming unholy relics into the holy temple, the modern cultural equivalent of sacrificing swine on the altar or baptizing the unconverted. Not everything the world has to offer can be adopted uncritically “as is.” Not all music and movies contain secret Christian messages. Not every new organizational fad or business model should be adopted to revolutionize our ministries or to launch explosive church growth. These things might appear effective in the short term, but what are they really communicating about Christianity? And what are they reflecting about the Person and work of Christ?

From a true incarnational perspective, there is such thing as coddling too closely to culture, being both in the world and of the world. When Christ came from heaven to earth, He did not give up His unique deity, His holiness, His embodiment of truth. He was both profound and practical, theological and relevant, innovative and traditional, heavenly and earthly, spirit and flesh . . .

He was both in the world and not of it (John 17:14–16).

Limited or Unlimited Atonement? (Yes)

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Let me begin by giving one reason I confess what is commonly called “limited atonement.” I could go into a long treatise on the internal logical and theological consistency of a Calvinist approach to salvation, but instead I’ll just keep this simple and mention one verse. In Ephesians 5:25, Paul wrote, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her.” What did Paul mean by “Christ gave Himself up” for the church? In 5:2, Paul had already explained, “Walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.” Thus, by sacrificing His life as an offering to God, Christ gave Himself up for the church, that is, the elect.

How does this touch on the doctrine of limited atonement? Well, in Ephesians 5:25 Paul used Christ’s self-sacrificial love for the church as a model of a husband’s love for his wife—and vice versa. I contend that the sense of Paul’s exhortation to husbands requires the doctrine of limited atonement. Because if we confess that Christ’s love and sacrificial death applied equally and universally to all people, whether believers or unbelievers, then Paul’s entire argument for a husband’s exclusive, faithful love for his wife would collapse. Paul did not write, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her and for all people everywhere, equally and without exception.” The very nature of Paul’s exhortation demands that he perceived the sacrificial death of Christ to have been limited in its redemptive intension—focused specifically on the elect of the church.

There are other passages I could highlight that limit the scope of Christ’s death to “us,” to believers, to the church, to the elect, and to those “in Christ.” But I frankly don’t see the need to pile up proof-texts, especially in light of where I’m going in this essay. I believe the point of Ephesians 5:25 is sufficiently clear to show that in some sense—however that may be expressed—the self-sacrificial love of Christ for the church is qualitatively different than the love that Christ has for the unsaved world in general.

But this now brings me to the second part of my confession. I also confess that Christ died for all.

I hold this not merely because the New Testament teaches a universality of God’s love (John 3:16), but also because certain passages are quite difficult to interpret apart from the death of Christ having a universal benefit and scope. Although I personally believe 1 John 2:2 may be a reference to the global catholicity of the Christian faith rather than the universality of Christ’s propitiatory offering (see my article on this subject here), I believe 2 Peter 2:1 teaches that Christ’s death paid the price of redemption for non-elect heretics. Peter wrote, “There will also be false teachers among you, who will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing swift destruction upon themselves.” Though I have heard all the arguments to the contrary, I cannot get around two basic assertions in this passage: 1) the false teachers denied the Lord and taught heresy—marking them as outside the body of the elect; 2) these heretics had nevertheless been “bought” by the Lord. Thus, in some sense, the penalty of sin for the non-elect was paid by the death of Christ.

So, I confess both unlimited and limited atonement. Although Christ’s death paid the penalty for all, the saving effect of His death is limited only to the elect.

Even though the non-elect are not the object of God’s redemptive intention, this does not mean they do not receive real benefit from the death Christ died in their place. I believe that God’s general grace toward all humans is granted on the basis of Christ’s propitiatory death and the resulting gracious and merciful disposition of God toward the world in general. The forms of this general grace include the preservation of the world for the sake of the elect, the blessing of unbelievers in conjunction with the blessing of the elect, and, in fact, all good gifts from God that are bestowed upon humans in general, as well as the withholding of judgment and wrath for the purpose of executing His program of grace and mercy in the present age. Furthermore, because believers are raised on the basis of Christ’s resurrection, I also hold that unbelievers will be raised on the basis of Christ’s resurrection (see John 5:29; 11:25; and context). This is not a strange or novel idea. Calvin himself wrote in Institutes 3.25.9:

We know that in Adam we were deprived of the inheritance of the whole world, and that the same reason which excludes us from eating of the tree of life excludes us also from common food. How comes it, then, that God not only makes his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, but that, in regard to the uses of the present life, his inestimable liberality is constantly flowing forth in rich abundance? Hence we certainly perceive, that things which are proper to Christ and his members, abound to the wicked also; not that their possession is legitimate, but that they may thus be rendered more inexcusable. Thus the wicked often experience the beneficence of God, not in ordinary measures, but such as sometimes throw all the blessings of the godly into the shade, though they eventually lead to greater damnation. Should it be objected, that the resurrection is not properly compared to fading and earthly blessings, I again answer, that when the devils were first alienated from God, the fountain of life, they deserved to be utterly destroyed; yet, by the admirable counsel of God, an intermediate state was prepared, where without life they might live in death. It ought not to seem in any respect more absurd that there is to be an adventitious resurrection of the ungodly which will drag them against their will before the tribunal of Christ, whom they now refuse to receive as their master and teacher.

In short, Calvin said the blessings of God through Christ—intended for the elect—overflow in abundance and affect the wicked. However, because they are recipients of some blessings of Christ’s death, their failure to respond to God in worship and glory results in even greater guilt and condemnation.

I believe that from God’s perspective of actualized redemption, the scope and purpose of Christ’s death was limited to the elect. Yet from the perspective of his general love for humanity expressed by His general grace, and also from the theological perspective of the inexhaustible potential redemptive value of the God-man’s sacrificial death, I must confess that the benefits of Christ’s death can not be limited only to the elect.

Thus, I confess that Christ died for all. I also confess that Christ died only for the elect. This is neither a mystery nor a paradox. I believe in limited atonement when referring to God’s eternal perspective and purpose of salvation; and I believe in unlimited atonement when referring to the benefits bestowed on humanity in general in spite of their unbelief. These are real, intentional benefits of the atonement, but not intended for eternal salvation.

I’m generally irenic in my approach to theological dialogue, but I do not applaud artificial attempts at finding a via media at all costs, so I am not highly motivated by being labeled a “moderate.” It’s great to be “moderate” when being moderate is right, but if it’s simply a compromise for its own sake, I don’t find this commendable. So, in stating my current position on limited and unlimited atonement, the result has probably not been to satisfy both Calvinists and non-Calvinists simultaneously. Rather, I’ve probably just offended both. Of course, the latter effect was not my intention (I’m not a controversialist) . . . . but neither was the former.

The Coming Millennial Economic Crisis

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As a convinced premillennialist, I have often been ridiculed for certain “weak spots” in my view of a coming reign of Christ on earth for a thousand years. Critics scoff at the literalism with which premillennialists often read apparently figurative prophetic images from the Old Testament: desert dunes blooming like Chia Pets . . . mountains and valleys suddenly liberating themselves from traditional roles for a more egalitarian topography . . . lions unnaturally shacking up with lambs . . . and infants playing in snake nests without proper adult supervision.

Yet two socio-economic implications of a literal millennium have gone unnoticed. The first is Isaiah’s prophecy of people pounding swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks (Isaiah 2:4). This is particularly troubling from our twenty-first century perspective, because the only swords available today are displayed under glass in museums, set on the shelves of antique stores, or hung in the bedrooms of thirty-five-year-old single Lord of the Rings fantasy geeks. Based on the present limited supply of these weapons, those in the future millennium who will be responsible for pounding swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks would quickly run out of materials. They would literally be unable to keep up with demand! This would thus cause a drastic spike in the cost of plowshares and pruning hooks, resulting in starvation, crime, riots, and general societal chaos.

Yet even beyond the problems of plowshare pounding, an even more profound and practical problem prevails. No premillennialists have adequately dealt with the looming unemployment crisis that will catch the world by surprise when those believers who worked all their lives in white-collar professions suddenly lose their jobs. This massive wave of unemployment will be like no other recession the world has ever seen. It will not be the effect of a depressed economy or corporate down-sizing, but the direct result of a new, curse-free global society that no longer needs professional services. Having no experience in manual labor or universal, culturally-transcendent skills that will benefit such a new perfect society, Christian professionals will not only prove useless in the millennium, but will actually tax its delicate barter economy to the breaking point!

These two problems have been overlooked by premillennialists. But the time has come to face these head on. As a premillennialist, I would like to be the first to offer two suggestions for how we can preempt the coming millennial economic crisis.

First, Christians should begin manufacturing and distributing obsolete weapons. The Bible clearly says that during the millennium people will pound their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. However, there simply are not enough swords and spears today to keep up with the future demand of plowshares and pruning hooks.

Therefore, the Church must immediately begin manufacturing and selling swords and spears made of an alloy that lends itself to easy re-shaping into tools of agriculture. Possible markets include gun shows, fantasy film conventions, and costume stores. Potential outlets include youth group fundraisers for ski and surfing retreats, Christian men’s masculinity training conferences, or neighborhood Christian gift and trinket stores (formerly known as “book stores”).

Second, Christian professionals should train now for a millennial vocation. Obviously, lawyers, doctors, theologians, politicians, judges, police officers, and other such professionals will be utterly useless to the new and perfect society established at the return of Christ. Therefore, these professionals ought to begin training for secondary vocations that will become their primary work during the Millennial Kingdom. That new order will be characterized by farming, shepherding, gathering, fishing, and other peaceful activities.

But millennial vocations should be chosen that are in some way related to the professional skills developed for this present dispensation. For example, lawyers who are notorious for milking clients for legal fees could make a smooth transition into milking cows. Judges could work with livestock, specifically separating sheep from goats. Accountants known for metaphorically “counting beans” could switch to literally picking them. Doctors who treat humans today could train as botanists or veterinarians for tomorrow. Pastors could take on the roles of literal shepherds of real sheep—most of which would be far easier to get along with than the average parishioners. Scholars and theologians, of course, could continue in their present task of shoveling manure. Sadly, there is no discernible role for politicians in an agricultural society, but it will be fun to see conservative Christian politicians forced to depend on millennial social assistance programs not dissimilar to the ones they opposed in the present age.

With the preemptive preparations I have outlined in this brief essay, we premillennialists can avoid the coming millennial economic crisis. By His grace, God has made us privy to this looming disaster so we can prevent it. Not since Y2K have evangelicals been given such an opportunity to save the world from destruction!

Bible Foregrounds 2: “Falling Away” in Hebrews 6:4–6

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Many passages of Scripture have been tirelessly debated not only in light of the meaning of the words and grammar, but also in light of the historical context or “background.” However, scholars often neglect the historical “foreground”—that is, the exploration of which interpretations make the most sense in light of what followed the apostolic period. The apostles and prophets who wrote the books of the Bible also taught large numbers of Christians who carried on their oral teachings in their own ministries (see 2 Timothy 2:2). So we should expect that the correct reading of Scripture may “echo” forward into the writings of second and third generation teachers. In part 1 of this series of essays, I examined the identity of the “restrainer” in 2 Thessalonisn 2. In part 2, I will explore a more weighty problem passage.

Problem

Mention the reference “Hebrews 6” and many Bible-believers bristle—especially those who hold that true believers can never lose their salvation. The most difficult portion of the problem passage reads, “For in the case of those who have . . . fallen away, it is impossible to renew them again to repentance (Hebrews 6:4, 6). The problem is not in the fact that some fall way, but in the description of the people replaced by the ellipses, for in a surface reading the passage seems to indicate bona fide believers. So, does Hebrews 6 teach that true believers can lose their salvation by falling away?

This passage has been variously interpreted. Some say it does, in fact, teach that a person can lose their salvation. The people described in Hebrews 6:4–6 were actually once born again, but they do something (or fail to do something) that causes them to fall back into a state of damnation. Those who believe in eternal security often argue against this interpretation of Hebrews 6 by simply jumping ship and latching on to “more clear” passages that suggest a person is eternally saved. But one person’s “clear” passage can easily become another person’s problem passage, and the debate over the meaning of Hebrews 6 never really gets resolved.

Another view is the “false believers view.” Like the “apostates” described in 1 John 2:19, these people appeared to be true believers by outward confession and actions, but were demonstrated to be false brethren by their ultimate apostasy. Had they been true believers, they would have persevered in the faith until the end.

Some view the passage as referring to true believers who, by falling away from sanctification and good works, render their testimonies tainted and their lives useless. Though they themselves are still saved and will see heaven, they lose their reward, as seems to be the case in 1 Corinthians 3:15. Thus, some argue that there comes a point in a carnal Christian’s life that they will become so numb to the Spirit’s conviction that they can no longer repent.

Another view is the “stagnated growth” view. The people described had begun down the Christian path through baptism and early instruction, but fell aside and became stagnant. Since it’s impossible to start the Christian life over again (repentance), they are being encouraged to get back on the path and advance toward maturity. The implied warning in this passage is that if they don’t get on the path, but drift farther from the path, they may, in fact, prove to be false believers or will lose their reward, in which case the second or third views above would apply.

With such a great variety of views (and these are just a sampling of the many variations), how can Bible foregrounds inform our understanding of the passage?

Bible Foregrounds

First, we must look at the broad purpose of the passage. The point is a contrast between immature novices and mature teachers, those who lack discernment and those who are trained and experienced. The point of the writer is not to warn about losing salvation, or how to tell when somebody is not really saved, or even to give assurance to those who have all the right signs of salvation. The point is to encourage spiritual infants to grow toward spiritual maturity.

Second, we must understand the actual meaning of the verb in Hebrews 6:6, “to fall away.” The word is not the normal term used for “apostasy” or “falling away” (aphistemi), but a unique word used only here in the New Testament—parapipto. It literally means “to fall beside a person or thing; to slip aside; hence, to deviate from the right path, turn aside, wander.” The concrete visual image associated with its use in ancient literature can best be illustrated by an example in Polybius’s Histories 3.54.5. That ancient author writes: “For the path down was narrow and precipitous, and the snow made it impossible for the men to see where they were treading, while to step aside (parapipto) from the path, or to stumble, meant being hurled down the precipices.” The image is that of a person wandering off a path, thus “falling aside”— not falling “away,” but falling beside “a way” or path.

Given this background of the term, is there anything in the historical context to suggest that the author of Hebrews had a “path” or “road” metaphor in mind when he used this term? I believe there is.

In Hebrews 5:11 the writer says that his readers had become “dull of hearing.” They should be teachers, but they need somebody to re-teach them the basics, the “elementary principles of the oracles of God.” They need “milk and not solid food” (5:12). This implies that the readers had already gone through the basics and should now be teachers.

In Hebrews 5:13, the writer explains that because they are babes in their understanding, they cannot chew on the meaty doctrines of the Christian faith. They are immature, they lack discernment, and they cannot handle advanced teaching (5:14). However, the writer desires to leave “the elementary teaching about the Christ” and to “press on to maturity” (6:1). (Note: The phrase “elementary teaching about the Christ” argues that these are Christian teachings, not the teachings of pre-Christian Judaism.) This elementary, or “basic” Christian instruction includes repentance from dead words and faith toward God, teachings concerning baptisms, laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment (6:1–2).

A key term in this list of basic Christian teaching is the word “instruction,” which is the Greek word didache. It means “doctrine” or “teaching.” Those familiar with early Christian literature outside the New Testament know that this is the title of a book—written in stages throughout the first and second centuries—that calls itself simply the “teaching of the twelve disciples,” or, for short, the Didache. That ancient book really functions as a manual of church instruction, probably compiled and edited for the church of Antioch. Some scholars say certain parts of the book were written perhaps earlier than some of our written gospels, though some sections were added perhaps as late as A.D. 150. Either way, the book contains an instruction about the “two paths” that lie before each person—the path of life and the path of death. Each person is called to choose which path to follow, and once a person chooses the path of life, they begin the journey of life by the initiation of water baptism. Thus, the Didache serves in part as an early teaching manual for new believers, preparing them for baptism and instructing them on the elementary principles of the Christian faith.

Because similar themes are found in other early Christian literature, we have good reason to believe that many churches—not just Antioch—followed a similar pattern of early Christian instruction as that found in the Didache. In fact, it is my belief that this type of early instruction, or didache, stands behind the thought of Hebrews 6, and plays off of the “two paths” image presented to potential converts to Christianity.

For example, Hebrews 6:1 mentions “teaching of baptisms.” And in Didache 7.1–4 we read the following instruction regarding different legitimate types of baptism:

Now concerning baptism, baptize as follows: after you have reviewed all these things [the way of life and the way of death], 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.” And before the baptism, let the one baptizing and the one who is to be baptized fast, as well as any others who are able. Also, you must instruct the one who is to be baptized to fast for one or two days beforehand. (Didache 7.1–4)

Regarding the “laying on of hands,” which is a sign of the ordination to ministry and leadership, Didache 11.3 says, “Now concerning the apostles and prophets, deal with them as follows in accordance with the rule of the gospel,” and then describes how one can distinguish a true from a false prophet, gives instructions on dealing with leadership, and tells how to discern good and bad leaders (Didache 11.4–13.7). In light of Paul’s admonition to Timothy to “not lay hands upon anyone too hastily” the “laying on of hands” in Hebrews 6:1 likely refers to instructions concerning legitimate leadership in the local church.

Hebrews 6:2 also refers to “the resurrection of the dead and eternal punishment.” Interestingly, the last section of Didache contains instructions about the end times.

The Solution

Read in light of the early Christian teaching (didache) that prepared people for baptism, as well as the basic instruction that followed baptism, the author of Hebrews appears to have been referring to the Christians’ early instruction in the faith—“Christianity 101.”

In Hebrews 6:3 he said that if God permits, they will leave behind the “elementary teachings. Then, in describing converts to Christianity who have stagnated in their progress, the author of Hebrews refers to elements of ancient Christian instruction and initiation. He says that these people “have once been enlightened and had tasted of the heavenly gift and have been made partakers of the Holy Spirit” (6:4). Interestingly, “enlightenment” was actually an early reference to a person’s response to the gospel through water baptism. Around A.D. 155, Justin Martyr wrote in his defense of Christianity: “And this washing [baptism] is called illumination, as those who learn these things are illuminated in the mind. And he who is illuminated is washed in the name of Jesus Christ, who was crucified under Pontius Pilate, and in the name of the Holy Spirit, who through the prophets foretold all the things about Jesus” (Justin, 1 Apology 61).

The reference to the “heavenly gift” in Hebrews 6:4 probably refers to the Lord’s supper, or communion. In fact, the Didache says, “Let no one eat or drink of your thanksgiving meal except those who have been baptized into the name of the Lord, for the Lord has also spoken concerning this: ‘Do not give what is holy to dogs’” (Didache 9.5). It then suggests the following prayer to be recited after the communion meal: “We give you thanks, Holy Father, for your holy name which you have caused to dwell in our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and immortality which you have made known to us through Jesus your servant; to you be the glory forever.” (Didache 10.2). This language is conceptually similar to the experiential references in Hebrews 6:4, that is, tasting the “good word of God” and becoming partakers of the Holy Spirit.

Then, when the writer of Hebrews finishes describing the details of early Christian instruction and the experiences of the Christian after submitting to baptism, he gives the following warning. If they are baptized, taught, and partake of the rights and privileges of membership in the church, “and [then] have fallen away, it is impossible to renew them again to repentance, since they again crucify to themselves the Son of God, and put Him to open shame” (Hebrews 6:6).

In the context of the Bible foregrounds, the reference to “repentance” here indicates the original conversion that placed them on the “path of life.” That’s the repentance of the convert, which takes places at their baptism. This is not repentance of the believer as he or she turns away from sin. The word “again” refers back to the previous mention of repentance in Hebrews 6:1—that is, their initial conversion to Christ by faith, represented and sealed by water baptism. That “repentance” set them on the “path of life,” from which there was no going back.

In light of this, the writer to the Hebrews appears to be drawing on the “path of life” image found in ancient Christian baptismal instructions. In essence, he’s saying this: You’ve been enlightened, baptized into the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ as a sign of repentance, and therefore initiated into the church, partaking of its full benefits and learning all the fundamentals. You started walking down the path of life. But you’ve become dull. You’re acting like a “trainee” again, like somebody who needs to be instructed prior to baptism! You should be teaching and baptizing, but you’re acting like you need somebody to teach and baptize you. But that’s impossible! Once a person has been enlightened and gone through the baptism of repentance . . . if they fall aside from the path, they can’t go back again to the baptism of repentance and start all over.

The exhortation, then, is clear: get back on the path of life and move toward maturity! You can’t be converted again, so start acting like a convert!

Conclusion

The evidence from Bible foregrounds, primarily from the first and second century document, the Didache, suggests that the writer of Hebrews had in the front of his mind an image and pattern of early Christian instruction with which his readers would have been familiar: the “path of life” that began with repentance, faith, and baptism as the initiation into the church. They had “fallen aside” from the path and were dwelling in an infant state, as if they were still being prepared for baptism. But because they can not be “re-baptized,” they need to get back on the path and head toward maturity. Thus, in light of the Bible foregrounds, the “stagnated growth” view of Hebrews 6 seems to be the most reasonable.

Scriptures I Could Do Without, Part 2: Isaiah 6:8

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We all have them—passages of Scripture that we’d rather weren’t there . . . little unalterable truths we wish would just disappear . . . . statements about God or humanity that we’d like to revise. But no matter how hard we try to re-translate or re-interpret them, those convicting verses just won’t budge. And by the very fact that they torment us, they demand our attention . . . and submission.

Here Am I!

The enthralling brilliance of God’s glory . . . the pungent aroma of incense wafting with each beat of the cherubs’ wings . . . the quaking foundations of the heavenly temple—in the midst of an unparalleled experience that made Moses’s barefooted brush with the burning bush pale in comparison, the prophet Isaiah received his call to ministry:

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?’ Then I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’” (Isaiah 6:8)

As a new believer I loved Isaiah 6:8. I’ve lost count of the number of sermons that used this passage to persuade men and women to go to the mission field or to support those who had already answered the call. Because all believers are called to “go into all the world” (Mark 16:15) and to “go and make disciples” (Matthew 28:19), I always got the impression that if we’d just answer the call like Isaiah—Here am I!—then the flames of revival would blaze across the land.

Or would they?

On Second Thought . . .

When Isaiah stepped forward without hesitation, God gave him his assignment:

“Go, and tell this people: ‘Keep on listening, but do not perceive; keep on looking, but do not understand.’ Render the hearts of this people insensitive, their ears dull, and their eyes dim, lest they see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts, and return and be healed.” (Isaiah 6:9–10)

This probably wasn’t the mission Isaiah expected. Perhaps he had in mind a ministry like Moses, complete with signs and wonders, epoch-changing bursts of startling new revelations, and something akin to the first great exodus out of Egypt. Maybe images of the great judges of Hebrew lore ran through his mind—heroes like Ehud, Gideon, Samson, and Samuel. Maybe even an impossible mission against unreasonable odds like David against Goliath.

But this? What kind of mission was this? “Render the hearts of this people insensitive, their ears dull, and their eyes dim.”

Isaiah had already agreed to the task. There was no way out now. So he asked a reasonable question: “Lord, how long?” (Isaiah 6:11). How long would he have to preach a message that does nothing but increases the hardness of his hearers’ hearts? A week? A month?

God answered:

“Until cities are devastated and without inhabitant, houses are without people, and the land is utterly desolate, the Lord has removed men far away, and the forsaken places are many in the midst of the land.” (Isaiah 6:11–12)

. . . Send Someone Else!

When I read it in light of the reality of Isaiah’s mission to his people, Isaiah 6:8 is a Scripture I could do without. Why? Because if God could call Isaiah to a ministry of hardness of heart in which people shrink away from God’s Word, the numbers dwindle, and God reduces the faithful to a mere remnant, He could call me to one, too.

You see, from God’s perspective the success of Isaiah’s mission was utter failure in the world’s eyes. Isaiah may have expected to be the Jonathan Edwards or Billy Graham of the ancient world, turning a sinful nation back to God, ushering in a golden age of justice and righteousness, spreading peace and prosperity to all people. After all, Isaiah’s was a ministry specially anointed by God.

The reality of Isaiah’s call into ministry was just the opposite: “Isaiah, preach to them. I’m going to harden their hearts so they won’t understand or listen to you. Keep preaching. Then I’ll send judgments on them for ignoring your message. A lot of people will die. Keep preaching. Your countrymen will curse you as they’re being dragged into exile. Keep preaching. Then they’ll kill you. But don’t worry. I’ll be with you to the end.”

It’s a wonder Isaiah didn’t respond to God’s call with the words of Moses: “O Lord, please send someone else!” (Exodus 4:13, NIV).

“Failing” for the Glory of God

Let’s just admit it. In our numbers-driven, bottom-line culture, intoxicated by the runner’s high of the rat race, an Isaiah-like ministry of purging and pruning looks like utter failure. Yet history is filled with periods in which the true Christian church, preaching the true gospel of Christ, encountered nothing but opposition, persecution, and unpopularity. In historical periods like those, “Christianity” could grow massively only by changing the unchangeable message, starving the gospel of its controversial claims, then dressing its emaciated body in the latest cultural fashions and parading it along the catwalk of the world. You see, the world will always ooh and ahh over a made-up gospel. But in a post-modern, post-Christian era like ours, the right preaching of the gospel will often lead to ridicule, rejection, and, ultimately, a dwindling congregation. Call me a cynic, but I believe the twenty-first century church is facing a decision—change the gospel and “thrive,” or stay true to the ancient faith and survive.

A calling like Isaiah’s is hard to swallow today. The temptation will always be to temper the message to the lukewarm world or tamper with its truths to match the transitory trends of society. But regardless of the outcome of our preaching, teaching, and evangelism, we are all still called to faithfully preach the message God has given us, even if it means preaching it to a culture deaf and blind to its truth . . . even if it means “failing” for the glory of God.