About Svigel

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

The (Kitschy) Cross and the (Creepy) Crypt

The heart of the gospel of Jesus Christ is His death and resurrection (1 Cor 15:3–4). This good news about Jesus wasn’t a mythological medley of spiritual metaphors. It wasn’t a story invented to puff the public appeal of a carpenter-turned-Rabbi. These were not “cleverly devised tales” (2 Pet 1:16) meant to deceive the masses into an unfounded faith. Early Christians made it clear that the gospel is based on historical events that occurred with real people in real places. Christ suffered “under Pontius Pilate,” a real historical figure. He was buried in a real tomb owned by a prominent Jerusalemite, Joseph of Arimathea (Matt 27:57–60). And He rose again on the third day—seen, heard, and even touched by numerous eye witnesses (1 Cor 15:5–8).

When people visit Israel today, they are bombarded by all sorts of claims regarding the location of certain biblical events—from the place where an angel visited Mary to the place where Christ was born . . . from the hillside where Jesus preached to the cliff where the herd of possessed pigs plunged into the Sea of Galilee. Sometimes pilgrims are left wondering which of these claims are based on historical fact or simply conjecture. But when it comes to the place of the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ, things get really messy. In fact, two competing locations for the death and resurrection present themselves as the true place of Golgotha and the tomb—the ancient Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the more recent Garden Tomb. And the difference between these two locations is quite literally darkness and light.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is cramped among the buildings of Old Jerusalem, covered by layer after layer of stone structures. Numerous Catholic traditions compete for control of the site, sending droves of worshipers through a maze-like route of Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection. Up narrow stone steps . . . past the supposed crucifixion site smothered in Catholic kitsch . . . down another flight of stairs . . . through a hallway painted with a mural depicting the death, wrapping, and burial of Jesus . . . and finally into an open hall crowded with Christian-like people first rudely shoving their way past others to see the burial site, only to reemerge weeping and wailing for their sins. I was actually told once by a burly Italian priest that I couldn’t go into the chapel because I wasn’t Catholic! To my evangelical eyes, the place is awful when it should be awesome. I always walk out of that cold, cramped, crowded Church with a feeling of despair, not hope.

But when I walk into the place of Gordon’s Calvary and the Garden Tomb, it’s like walking into a Thomas Kinkade painting. Birds chirp, butterflies flutter, trees wave in the cool breeze, visitors walk leisurely along garden paths, praying and singing hymns. A guide points out the craggy cliff which, with some imagination, looks like the features of a skull. He points to the area that used to be a site of public execution—a perfect fit for the crucifixion of Christ. Then he leads us to a tomb . . . a real tomb. Not a church, but an ancient burial site once covered by a rolling stone. There it is, in the garden, not far from the place of crucifixion, standing open . . .and empty. Pilgrims slowly file in and out. No pushing, no shoving, no burning incense, no purchasing candles, no kissing rocks—just meditating on the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus.

Like I said, the contrast is darkness and light. The only thing the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the Garden Tomb have it common is that they both claim to be the place of the gospel events. Of course, evangelicals who visit the Holy Land almost instantly reject the Catholic location, and almost unquestioningly accept the Garden Tomb. It’s easy to see why. But in all likelihood, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre holds the best claim as the authentic site of Christ’s death and resurrection. On my last trip to Israel, I had the hardest time answering visitors’ questions about this. I really wanted to say, “No, that Catholic Church isn’t the real thing. This beautiful garden is the place.” But I couldn’t. Instead, I had to quietly tell those who asked the simple archaeological and historical facts.

The Bible says Joseph of Arimathea placed Christ’s body “in his own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock” (Matt 27:60). However, the grave at the Garden Tomb has all the characteristics of an Old Testament period tomb, not a new tomb. Besides this archaeological fact, the location of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre has very strong historical claim. It is mentioned very early on in Christian history has having been memorialized by the Christians in Jerusalem as the location of the death and resurrection of Jesus. In contrast, Gordon’s Calvary and its nearby tomb have no such pedigree. As difficult as it is for me to admit, the Garden Tomb is just a pretty place.

But as I reflect on the troubling condition of the true location of Christ’s death and resurrection, I’m not surprised. From day one Satan and the opponents of Christianity have been trying to cover up, confuse, and destroy the heart of Christianity. What better way for Satan to obscure the truth than to adorn the place of Christ’s atoning death and saving resurrection with a kitschy cross and a creepy crypt! And as I reflect on the many weeping worshipers at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre who push and shove their way through the gaudy grotto, I feel sadness at what the simple, beautiful, inspiring gospel of Jesus Christ has become for so many. Instead of a source of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, it has often become a center of impurity, idolatry, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, disputes, dissensions, and factions. Evangelicals like you and me are not immune to this, either.

Although historically we must accept the likelihood that the place of Christ’s death and resurrection is concealed by a massive Church . . . spiritually we should strive for the purity and beauty symbolized by the Garden Tomb.

[Originally posted June 3, 2008 at www.retrochristianity.com.]

Three Trails to Traditionalism: What Evangelicals Are Running From and Running To . . . and Why

ThreePathsBack in the 1990s, when I was a student at a conservative evangelical Bible College, one of my fellow students shocked many in the student body (and alarmed several professors) when he announced that he was becoming Greek Orthodox.

This confused me.

Weren’t Orthodox Christians just Greek-speaking Catholics without a pope? Didn’t they pray to saints and worship Mary? And their worship! Didn’t they kiss icons, sniff incense, sprinkle holy water, and rattle off irrelevant prayers and creeds that had nothing to do with either the Bible or real life? Why in the world would anybody convert to that?

Then I heard about a free church evangelical who became Anglican—still Protestant, of course, but it made me wonder what would motivate a person to make such a drastic change in doctrine, church order, and worship style. Then I heard about a Baptist who converted to Roman Catholicism, leaving Protestantism completely behind. Surely this had to be some kind of sign of the end times!

However, before too long I learned that many Low Church or free church Protestants had left what they regarded as evangelical “wilderness wanderings” to follow the “Roman Road,” the “Way to Constantinople,” or (for those who desired to remain within the Protestant tradition while restoring a liturgical worship) the “Canterbury Trail.” Those who couldn’t take such radical steps into a High Church community sometimes ended up in more traditional conservative Protestant denominations like the Presbyterians or Lutherans. Over and over again I kept running into more examples like these: men and women leaving the open fields of free roaming evangelicalism for the gated gardens of a clearly defined denomination.

Naturally, I was curious about why anybody would go from Southern Baptist to Eastern Orthodox, from Lutheran to Roman Catholicism, or from an Evangelical Free church to an Episcopal church. As a young believer who was perfectly happy in my evangelical subculture, these radical departures seemed inexplicable.

Through the years, though, I discovered that these conversions were not isolated cases. Rather, they represented a widespread movement, especially among younger evangelicals, away from free church and Low Church communities toward more traditional High Church denominations. In order to better understand this trend, I began to discuss these conversions with the converts themselves and to read books and articles on the phenomenon. As I did, I discovered that these converts tended to fall into one of three categories:

1. Aversion-Driven Converts

2. Attraction-Driven Converts

3. Preference-Driven Converts

Let me briefly explain each of these motivations and then explain some basic problems within evangelicalism that need to be addressed. (This essay merely introduces the “what’s” and “why’s” . . . the “what do we do now?” question is answered more fully in the book, RetroChristianity.)

Aversion-Driven Converts

The aversion-driven converts are those who simply have had enough of Low Church, free church, or no-church evangelicalism. Frustrated with the “anything goes” instability of their evangelical megachurches or megachurch wannabes, some just can’t stomach the ever-shifting sands upon which their churches seem to be built. Or they have endured just too many church coups, splits, or hostile takeovers to continue appreciating the “who’s in charge here anyway?” debates within their independent congregations. Or they’ve “had it up to here” with the stifling legalism and heartless dogmatism of their fundamentalist upbringing. In other words, their motivation to convert to a stable, well-defined, traditional denomination has more to do with what they’re running from than what they’re running to.

The problem with this kind of conversion, however, is simply this: reaction against something—even if that something is bad—is no way to make a wise choice for something. It’s no wonder that many of these aversion-driven converts become dissatisfied with their destination tradition and end up reacting even to that! Lesson learned: if you don’t know what you’re looking for, you’ll never find it.

Attraction-Driven Converts

The attraction-driven converts are completely different. They don’t start with any particularly serious problem with their current evangelical churches. Instead, their entrée into the traditional, historical denominations comes more gradually. The attraction-driven converts claim to arrive at “the Historic Christian Faith,” or to discover “the One True Church,” or to happen upon “the Holy Tradition” either by accident or by careful investigation. As they explore these churches more deeply, they become disillusioned with their historically shallow evangelical background while coming to believe that the traditional denomination has a greater continuity with ancient and historical orthodoxy. They conclude, then, that their Protestant evangelical tradition is really a Johnny-come-lately at best or a devilish usurper at worst. These converts then claim that they were compelled to forsake their evangelical tradition because of their study of church history.

The problem with this approach, however, is that those who claim to have found the one true church through the study of the ancient church often have no idea how to study church history. Rather than engaging in a so-called objective exploration of the facts of church history, they are often unwittingly fed a particular version of church history that just so happens to favor a particular tradition.

Preference-Driven Converts

Finally, the preference-driven converts are motivated not by the ills of evangelicalism or the merits of classic Christian denominations, but by personal preferences regarding worship. I’ve heard numerous friends, colleagues, and students tell me they switched to a High Church or non-Protestant tradition because they “like the liturgy.” They love traditional forms of worship such as lighting candles, offering incense, reciting creeds, partaking of weekly Eucharist, observing the Christian calendar, or some other element of worship completely missing or outright rejected by many evangelical churches. Thus, their decision to convert to a liturgical church was more about adopting a worship style that felt more authentic, appealed to their sense of mystery, engaged their senses, or made them feel connected to a broader and deeper historical faith than their narrow and shallow evangelical churches. In the final analysis, they have nothing against Baptists and Bible churches, but those less formal ways of worship just aren’t for them.

The problem with the preference-driven converts is that they often make their decisions in an extremely me-centered, consumerist fashion. They’re less concerned about content and more concerned with contentment. They’re less interested in fact and more interested in feeling. Though they opt out of the typical external forms of the evangelical subculture, they do so in a very typical evangelical way—through individualistic personal preference!

While I sympathize with many of the concerns shared by those who have chosen to travel the trails toward traditionalism, it seems that many have abandoned their evangelical heritage far too hastily and unwisely, driven by emotion, ignorance, or unquestioned assumptions about Scripture, history, and theology. On the other hand, we need to understand why many evangelicals are driven away from their evangelical heritage or attracted to other traditions. I believe the answer is simple. Despite its strengths, there are severe problems with contemporary evangelicalism that are reaching a point of crisis.

Why does evangelicalism appear to be spinning out of control, losing appeal to younger generations, dwindling in numbers, or selling out to pop culture to muster a crowd? Where is evangelicalism headed? What can we do about it? In my book, RetroChristianity: Reclaiming the Forgotten Faith and at the companion website, www.retrochristianity.com, my goal has been to challenge evangelicals to begin thinking both critically and constructively about history and how it informs our current beliefs, values, and practices. However, unlike many attempts to change the present by looking to the past, this approach also begins exploring practical ways for both individuals and churches to apply its principles today. Arguing that the way forward is to draw on the wisdom of the whole Christian past, RetroChristianity not only points out the trailhead of the biblical, historical, and theological path, but it supplies provisions for the journey without forsaking the healthy developments that have benefited Christianity along the way.

RetroChristianity doesn’t naively defend evangelicalism as if everything were just fine. As I review the history and survey the current landscape of modern evangelicalism, I conclude that things are in pretty bad shape and are likely to get worse. However, I don’t believe the retreat into traditionalism is the necessary or most beneficial response—though it is certainly the easiest.

RetroChristianity fully acknowledges the frustrating and upsetting elements of evangelicalism. However, we can’t afford to simply whine about the flaws of the evangelical movement. We need to provide directions for addressing these problems, resting firmly on biblical, theological, and historical foundations. This will help us respond appropriately to extremes within evangelicalism and contribute to its improvement rather than its destruction.

RetroChristianity also acknowledges the egocentric nature of many evangelicals’ approaches to church and spirituality. We need to counter the preference-driven mentality rampant among so many churches, replacing it with a more biblical, historical, and theological framework through which we can make informed decisions regarding doctrine, practice, and worship. This will help us wisely balance the vital elements of church, worship, ministry, and spirituality, avoiding excesses, extremes, distractions, and distortions.

In short, I believe that careful biblical, theological, and historical reflection should make us better evangelicals, not former evangelicals.

 

[Excerpted and adapted from the introduction RetroChristianity: Reclaiming the Forgotten Faith (Wheaton: Crossway, 2012), pp. 17–21. Available now at Amazon, ChristianBook.com, Westerminster Bookstore.]

Why Seminary? (Why Not?)

SeminaryAs a seminary professor, I’m often asked why anybody would want or need graduate-level studies devoted to biblical, theological, historical, and practical training in preparation for Christian ministry (a.k.a. “seminary”). Most of the time, this question springs from a genuine curiosity or interest in seminary studies. But other times the inquiry betrays the underlying assumption that seminary is both unnecessary and unhelpful (or sometimes even dangerous).

Sometimes I hear people say things like, “Well, the disciples never went to seminary. They were just simple blue-collar tradesmen without any doctrinal or practical training. Therefore, seminary isn’t necessary.” This objection is pretty easy to dismiss. The disciples weren’t uneducated, self-trained, amateurs. Actually, they had three years of twenty-four/seven first-hand teaching and side-by-side experience in the presence of the God-Man, Jesus Christ. If you had that kind of training, I’d excuse you from seminary. In fact, I’d trade in my own Bible college degree, Master of Theology diploma, and Ph.D. for those three unaccredited years at the feet of the Savior.

Other times people say, “Mega-church Pastor So-and-So doesn’t have any seminary training, and he has a successful and fruitful ministry; therefore, seminary isn’t helpful.” I have two answers for this objection.  First, larger numbers and bigger budgets don’t mean the untrained celebrity pastor is “successful” in God’s eyes. All too often I see teachings and practices in the ministries of such untrained pastors that reveal an ignorance of central gospel truths, theological imbalance, or pragmatically-driven ministry models. Be careful how you define and identify “successful and fruitful ministry.” Second, just imagine how much more successful and fruitful a sufficiently-trained pastor might be with the same gifts!

Occasionally I have people who scoff at seminary, claiming to be self-taught Bible students who want or need no formal instruction. They have an underlying distrust and even animosity toward formal training—“Seminary is dangerous!” They believe biblical scholars and theologians have no advantage in reading, interpreting, and teaching God’s Word. Sometimes they think seminary training just complicates a person’s simple faith. Or occasionally they appeal to the Holy Spirit as their only teacher, usually appealing to 1 John 2:27. To this train of thought, I respond with the following six points. First, it’s usually only those who don’t have quality seminary training who are convinced they don’t need it. But how would they know whether they could benefit from something they’ve never had? Second, if “a pupil is not above his teacher” (Luke 6:40), then those who are self-taught will never rise above their own idiosyncrasies. Simply put, people who are self-taught haven’t had qualified teachers. Third, Paul encouraged the Corinthian believers, “Do not be children in your thinking. Be infants in evil, but in your thinking be mature” (1 Cor. 14:20).  And the author of Hebrews castigated his readers for being “dull of hearing,” remaining children in their knowledge, requiring somebody to re-teach them the basic principles of the faith when they should actually be teachers (Heb. 5:11–14). Clearly, he expected them to continue to learn and grow in their knowledge beyond infancy and simplicity. Fifth, Peter warned that those who are “untaught” (the Greek term literally means those who have not received formal teaching) were more likely to twist the Scriptures to their own destruction (2 Pet. 3:16). The corollary to this is that those who have received formal training are less likely to be unstable in their doctrine and less likely to twist Scripture into a doctrinal hang-man’s noose. Finally, nobody should deny that the ultimate teacher of truth is the Holy Spirit. However, the Holy Spirit carries out His teaching ministry by gifting teachers in the church, whose responsibility it is to teach believers (Rom. 12:7; 1 Cor. 12:28–29; Gal. 6:6; Eph. 4:11; 1 Tim. 3:2; 4:13, 16; 5:17; 2 Tim. 2:2, 24; 4:2; Heb. 5:12; Jas. 3:1).

So, if there aren’t compelling arguments against seminary training, what positive benefits are gained through seminary? Why should those called to Christian ministry go through a graduate program of biblical, theological, historical, and practical training? Why would we spend all that time, money, and energy on a two-to-four (or more) year course of study? If we aren’t going to get a degree to make more money or to be inspired to live a better Christian life . . . why would we endure seminary studies? To answer the “Why Seminary?” question, let me use the analogy of home improvement.  A complete seminary program equips believers for faithful and fruitful ministry by: 1) cleaning out doctrinal junk, 2) rearranging doctrinal furniture, 3) remodeling doctrinal structures, and 4) firming up doctrinal foundations.

First, a quality seminary education will successfully clean out doctrinal junk. If you’ve ever watched Hoarders, you know that those with a hoarding disorder always need outside help. They have completely lost the ability to discern between what to keep versus what to throw . . . what’s healthy and beneficial versus what’s unhealthy and damaging. Only a person with an objective perspective who lives outside the home can see what the hoarder can’t—that they have accrued unnecessary, useless, worthless, and sometimes even unhealthy and dangerous junk. Similarly, seminary should challenge students’ “folk theology”—cliché, debunked, or exaggerated doctrines and practices that have little or no foundation in Scripture, history, or sometimes even orthodoxy. Good seminary training will open the doors and windows of a person’s beliefs and practices, providing opportunity to haul out the useless and damaging doctrinal junk, airing out errors and shedding light on oddities. Of course, like hoarders, it’s always up to the student to “clean house” when necessary.

Second, a seminary education will skillfully rearrange doctrinal furniture. Every home I’ve been in has a number of chairs, a table or two, a sofa or so, permanent and moveable fixtures, and other furnishings that make a house a home. But some homes are better coordinated and decorated than others. Picture the difference between a bachelor’s haunt and the White House . . . or the furniture section of a local thrift store and the mock-ups at Ikea . . . or the typical college dorm room and a suite at a Hilton. Yes, the haphazard furniture functions just fine, but the set-up lacks symmetry, proportion, and beauty. And amateur “homemakers” have a tendency to constantly rearrange things, striving to achieve an elusive balance . . . or at least keeping guests from constantly bumping into and tripping over everything. In the same way, most lay people who lack seminary training have all (or most) of the essential elements of a functional Christian theology, but they almost always lack a centering theological principle, a biblical narrative arc, or a sense of how the smaller and larger pieces of the doctrinal puzzle fit together as a whole. Quality seminary training provides a balanced, full-bodied arrangement of Bible, theology, history, practical ministry, and other essential elements. No vital element will be missing. No portion will be inappropriately exaggerated. No central elements will be shoved off to the side. By submitting to a complete degree program in a seminary context, graduates can rest assured that they have been exposed to a tried-and-true arrangement of the furnishings and fixtures of Christian theology.

Third, a quality seminary education will help students remodel doctrinal structures. This goes beyond merely superficial rearrangement and proportion. Sometimes seminarians need major deconstruction and reconstruction of their doctrinal convictions. Oftentimes students come from a theological ghetto that has minimized or exaggerated certain beliefs and practices. They have been baptized into one confession that never challenged them to think critically about their own tradition. Or they have been raised in one way of doing ministry and have never considered whether such a model is the most culturally appropriate or even biblically faithful way of doing things. In my own experience, Christians from a free church or low church background have no room in their doctrinal home for a biblically, theologically, and historically faithful doctrine and practice of the sacraments. Remodeling will make room. Christians from a liturgical or high church background often can’t imagine a time in history when the church didn’t have this or that particular form of worship . . . nor can they appreciate the liturgical diversity in the Christian tradition. Remodeling will make space for models of worship that were previously unfamiliar. Many pragmatically-driven Christians don’t have a completely accurate and healthy understanding of such fundamental doctrines as the Trinity, the person and work of Christ, the inspiration and authority of Scripture, or even the Gospel. Remodeling will repair the walls that protect and promote these vital truths. Some Christians with very narrow church backgrounds—especially those who have been to a Bible College—will have an opportunity to revisit some of the structures they received without question . . . or at least without a full awareness of the diverse perspectives within orthodox protestant evangelicalism. Quality seminary training provides a safe, cautious, constructive, and expertly-guided opportunity for substantial remodeling of one’s doctrinal structures prior to engaging in full time Christian ministry. This is vital, because once a person is in the thick of ministry, a faulty and flimsy structure can collapse under pressure and a radical or reactionary “gutting” of one’s theology can destroy a church. Seminary, not ministry, is the place to get your theological house in order.

Finally, a seminary education will firm up doctrinal and practical foundations. Seminary doesn’t answer all biblical and theological questions, but a balanced seminary curriculum will equip future leaders with the language skills, interpretational methods, theological framework, and historical backgrounds necessary for tackling these questions on their own. It moves the learner from the level of parroting canned, cliché responses to predictable questions to the level of thinking through new questions and providing compelling answers. It moves a Christian from the passive and unconscious acceptance of the core doctrines of the faith to a place where he or she can actively and consciously understand, articulate, and defend these doctrines. By firming up the foundations of the Christian faith, seminary will instill confidence in future pastors and ministers. Seminary training will shorten the preparation time needed to put together biblically faithful, theologically sound, and practically compelling sermons and lessons because most of the foundation work will have already been done. Just as a firm foundation will keep a building from teetering when the earth shakes and the storms blow in, a well-balanced seminary training will stabilize a person’s life of ministry, preventing him or her from swaying with every wind of doctrine or crumbling like those whose ministries are built on a foundation of shifting sands.

When it comes to the need for seminary-trained church leaders, I admit that my perspective is biased, prejudiced, and one-sided. After all, I’ve devoted my life to teaching future pastors, teachers, evangelists, missionaries, and lay leaders. But my perspective on the value of seminary training isn’t an effect of my position as a seminary professor; my dedication to teaching as a seminary professor is motivated by my conviction that seminary training is needed today more than ever. No meandering internet reading sprees can replace seminary’s planned, balanced, curricular approach. No narrow, in-church training program can compete with seminary’s full-bodied education by diverse pastor-scholars who are experts in their fields. And no amount of practical ministry experience can fill in the inevitable gaps in biblical, theological, and historical knowledge needed to face the questions and challenges bombarding believers in our post-modern, post-Christian world. Yes, I’m sold-out for seminary training. But I have good reasons to be.

So, then, why seminary?

Why not?

Reader’s Guide for Margaret Deanesly’s ‘A History of the Medieval Church (590–1500)’

DeaneslyOver the course of her career Margaret Deanesly bequeathed upon the twentieth century church numerous publications that grant non-experts access to the often confusing world of medieval Christian studies. Indeed, this matriarch of medievalism helped to shed light on what is for many Protestants a vast darkness marring a millennium of otherwise perfectly useful history.

From her 1920 study on the Bible of the Lollards, to several studies on the history of the Church of England, she has led countless travelers—novices and experts alike—on a tour of both the back roads and broadways of the church of the Middle Ages. A History of the Medieval Church 590–1500 has functioned as the summula of her work (one might be tempted to call it her magnum opus, if not for its short length—just 283 pages).

As a help for those interested in reading (or teaching) through this excellent work, I’m sharing with you the reading guide I’ve used in my HT225—Theology of the Middle Ages course at Dallas Theological Seminary.

Feel free to modify this to suit your needs.

Deanesly Reading Guide

 

The Early Church: Christianity or Christianities?

Apostles SquareDId Christianity begin as a tangle of squabbling followers putting their own spins on Jesus’s life and teachings? Did many Christianities with different “Jesuses” strive for dominance? Did one form of Christianity achieve victory, only to squash its opponents and rewrite its own history?

Dr. Darrell Bock and I recently discussed this theme in a Dallas Seminary Cultural Engagement Chapel. In this brief presentation we barely scratch the surface of this topic. You can watch the dialogue here.

[My basic introductory booklet I mention in the video on this topic is entitled Heroes and Heretics: Solving the Modern Mystery of the Ancient Church, and it’s available here. For those few of you interested in a detailed discussion of historiographical presuppositions involved in the debate, check out my essay, “‘You got to know when to hold ’em’: Trumping the Bauer Thesis.“]

 

The PowerPoint Slides in the video are available here: Christianity or Christianities PowerPoint Slides

This and many other important topics will be discussed at The Table conference, “Presenting God to Those Who See Christianity Differently,” to be held on April 19-20 at Bent Tree Bible Fellowship.