Category Archives: Church History

Should Unbaptized Believers Be Invited to the Lord’s Table?

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For many churches and denominations, it would be unthinkable that a believer who has not been baptized as a mark of initiation into the covenant community would be invited to partake of the covenant community’s most intimate observance, the Lord’s Supper (or “eucharist,” “communion,” or “Lord’s Table”). Usually such churches initiate their members at a young age, if not in infancy, or they have a fairly high view of baptism and its role not only as a public profession of personal faith but also as a rite of initiation into the community of the faithful.

However, many other churches—usually of the independent evangelical “Bible-church” variety—have hardly considered the question. Many believers in those churches would be surprised that this even is a question. These congregations often practice communion in a way that makes it open to anybody who professes faith in Christ—even if it’s a quiet, invisible, personal, and sudden faith in response to the message just preached. It becomes, as it were, a point of personal devotion and reflection, unconnected to the person’s relationship with the covenanted community and body of Christ through the act of baptism.

In the following, I will make a biblical-theological and historical case for the order of baptismal initiation first, followed by observance of the Lord’s Supper, which should be shared only among those who are baptized. Simply put, the historical innovation of inviting unbaptized believers to the fellowship of the Lord’s Table is a practice that must stop if we are to conform to the pattern established by the apostles and maintain the sacred rites of baptism and the Lord’s Supper in the manner in which they were given.

NOTE: Prior to presenting these arguments, I need to acknowledge that some of the discussion in this essay depends on understanding the multi-faceted role of baptism as articulated in my “Elephant” series here as well as the case for a weekly observance of the Lord’s Supper in my essay here. I would recommend reading those articles as a background to the arguments presented in this essay.

 

Biblical-Theological Considerations

Observance of the Lord’s Supper in the New Testament assumes the order of baptism into the visible body of Christ followed by the observance of the eucharist or communion as the gathered church. In 1 Corinthians 10:17, Paul says, “Because there is one bread, the many are one body, for the many partake from the one bread.” We partake together of the one bread (that is, breaking the one loaf into pieces and all partaking of the single loaf) because we are “one body,” that is, to visibly reinforce our confession of being “one body.”

Here the term sōma is not a reference to the physical body of Christ present in the bread, but the assembled church as the body of Christ, united as one corporate body in its gathering and symbolized by the partaking of the one bread. Thus, the participation in the observance of the bread is intended for those who are, in fact, united with the body, the church. We are united with the body through baptism (1 Cor. 12:12–13). Some have rebutted that this is “Spirit baptism,” not water baptism. Well, then, let them that are only baptized spiritually partake of the Lord’s Supper “spiritually,” and leave the physical elements alone. It is in any case best that we abandon this kind of dualism typical of ancient gnosticism in our approach to the church and sacraments and rather hold the spiritual and physical together in an incarnational theology. After all it, the church is called the body of Christ, not the soul or spirit of Christ. The physical-spiritual observance of the ordinance of bread and wine is for the church body gathered; an initiation and consecration into that church body is only accomplished by water baptism, a physical-spiritual act. I can see no logical way to make sense of Paul’s analogy of body unity through the supper in 1 Corinthians 10:17 except by assuming the participants have become members of the one body through baptismal initiation.

This “first-baptism-then-communion” order is also set forth in Paul’s typological treatment of Moses’s “baptism” and participation of the “manna” in the wilderness in 1 Corinthians 10, which “happened as examples (typoi) for us.” He says, “Our fathers were all under the cloud and all passed through the sea” (10:1). The cloud was the presence of God himself, the Shekinah glory. The sea, of course, was the Red Sea. He goes on: “All were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea” (10:2). The New Testament anti-type to Paul’s Old Testament type here is Spirit-baptism (cloud) and water baptism (sea). Just as the Old Covenant people of God were typologically “baptized” into Moses by the Spirit of the cloud and the water of the sea, New Covenant believers are baptized into Christ by Spirit-baptism and water-baptism. Note that they are not baptized into Christ by one or the other, or by one instead of the other, but necessarily by both held together in unity. Again, a biblical-theological view of the sacraments avoids dualism that separates the physical and spirit and pits one against the other or exalts one above the other. An authentically Christian view of the sacraments is incarnational, the spiritual and physical together without confusion or mixture and without separation or division.

Then, in verses 3-4, Paul writes, “And all ate the same spiritual food; and all drank the same spiritual drink.” The New Testament anti-type of this Old Testament spiritual food and drink is the Lord’s Supper, which Paul is about to discuss in just a few verses in chapter 10 and then again in chapter 11. Thus, the context affirms this identification of the typology with baptism and the Lord’s Supper. The order is clear: Spirit-baptism (conversion) and water-baptism closely associated with it (see Heb. 10:22), then participation in spiritual food and drink (the Lord’s Supper). As a background confirmation of this analogy, the term “spiritual food and drink” is also used in the first-century Didache 10.1 in reference to the eucharistic observance. Therefore, reading Scripture in its actual historical context, Paul’s first-century readers of 1 Corinthians 10:3-4 would have understood his typology as an obvious reference to the spiritual corporate discipline of observing the Lord’s Supper, which came after (not before) baptism into Christ both by the Spirit and by water.

Also, the order of baptism and the Lord’s Supper in the narratives of Scripture is consistent. Christ said in the Great Commission, “Make disciples by baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and [then] teaching them to observe whatsoever I have commanded” (Matt. 28:19–20). The Lord’s Supper, as an ordinance and command of Christ to be observed by the church as a sign of their corporate relationship to the New Covenant, is part of that which the baptized disciples are to observe. And in Acts 2, we read, “So then, those who had received his word were baptized; and that day there were added about three thousand souls” (2:41). Then, “they were continually devoting themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer” (2:42). Nowhere in Scripture is this order reversed.

Further, the biblical teaching concerning church discipline requires a baptized membership accountable to a baptismal pledge of repentance and discipleship. If a person has not actually committed to a life of discipleship and allegiance to Christ through baptism, how is it that the Lord holds them to such a commitment by disciplining those who partake of the Lord’s Supper unworthily (1 Cor. 11:27–34)? That is, a person is admitted to fellowship in the church body and charged with holding the faith and living the life of a consecrated disciple at baptism. (See here for a fuller explanation of baptism as a pledge to live the consecrated life.) Those baptized, consecrated believers are then the ones who are accountable to live lives that “judge the body rightly” (1 Cor. 11:29). The “body” here is not a reference to Christ’s physical body at the right hand of the Father, but a reference to church body united together by baptism. (See here for a fuller explanation of baptism as initiation into the covenant community of the church.) There is no room here for the participation of unbaptized (that is, non-consecrated, non-committed, and non-covenanted) professors of faith.

Besides this, we must note the correspondence of the language of 1 Corinthians 11:33—“when you come together to eat, wait for one another”; and 11:18—“when you come together as a church”; and 11:20—“when you meet together, it is not to eat the Lord’s Supper.” Clearly the “coming together” is a reference to the gathering of “the church,” which is, of course, the congregation of the baptized believers, members of the body through baptismal initiation. They are not merely those who have had a personal experience of faith or feel converted by their own personal standards; this conversion is confirmed by the church through proper training, testing, and then initiation by baptism. Only then is one counted a member of the church, the visible corporate body of Christ. And members of the church body, they gather with the church to eat the Lord’s Supper (11:18, 20, 33).

Biblically, the order is evident: first, baptism as the visible act of initiation into the new covenant community, second, the Lord’s Supper as the visible act of covenant renewal among members of the baptized community. Therefore, from the perspective of biblical-theological evidence, the burden of proof is on the person who would invite unbaptized believers to communion. The burden of proof is not on the person who requires that baptism be a pre-requisite for communion.

 

Historical Considerations

The first-century handbook for early church plants called the Didache (c. AD 50–70), instructs early church leaders regarding the proper practice of the eucharist (or “Lord’s Supper”) as follows: “But none shall eat or shall drink from your eucharist but those baptized in the name of the Lord” (Did. 9.5). This practice is in keeping with the pattern we see in the New Testament. This isn’t a case of early Christian legalism. This is the normal Christian practice of the early church (see Justin Martyr, 1 Apol. 66). It is in keeping with the establishment of the apostles and the logic that only those who have been initiated into the covenanted body of the church are to be admitted to the rite of covenant renewal that symbolizes the unity of that one body. Quite bluntly, to the early Christian, inviting an unbaptized believer to the Lord’s Supper would be like inviting an unmarried couple to the wedding bed! Having not entered into a covenant commitment to live a life of discipleship through baptism, why are they invited to the table where they are renewing that confession and commitment?

Historically, the order of baptismal initiation into the covenanted community followed by renewal of that covenant at communion has also been the universal practice of the church from the first century to the seventeenth. Even in Jonathan Edwards’ (17thcentury) disagreement with his grandfather, Solomon Stoddard, over who should be invited to the Lord’s Table, the issue was never whether unbaptized professors of faith should partake of the supper. Both men agreed that communion of the unbaptized was absurd; church membership and communion required baptism. Edwards wrote, “None should be admitted but such as were visibly regenerated, as well as baptized with outward baptism” (“Inquiry Concerning Qualification for Communion,” Part 2, Section 1.9). The issue was rather whether subsequent visible signs of genuine saving grace were necessary for baptized Christians prior to full church membership and thus participation in communion. Simply put, there would be no case in which a non-church member would be admitted to communion and there would be no case in which a non-baptized person would be admitted into church membership. In New England Congregationalism, being baptized as an infant did not guarantee full church membership, and neither did it guarantee participation at the table. But no unbaptized believer was ever admitted to communion. Such an allowance would be scandalous.

Among Baptists, who baptized only upon a profession of faith, a new issue began to surface. The practice of administering communion to those who were regarded by Baptists as “unbaptized” (that is, those baptized as infants) began with John Bunyan (17thcentury) and his circle. At the time, it was a controversial and, frankly, “progressive” practice. In 1814, Andrew Fuller, writing regarding Bunyan’s position, noted, “If Mr. Bunyan’s position be tenable, however, it is rather singular that it should have been so long undiscovered; for it does not appear that such a notion was ever advanced till he or his contemporaries advanced it. Whatever difference of opinion had subsisted among Christians concerning the mode and subjects of baptism, I have seen no evidence that baptism was considered by any one as unconnected with or unnecessary to the supper” (Andrew Fuller, The Admission of Unbaptized Persons to the Lord’s Supper Inconsistent with the New Testament: A Letter to a Friend [1814], 10-11).

Historically, the original and enduring practice—for centuries—has been baptism as the rite of initiation in the covenant community (whether paedo-baptism or credo-baptism) followed by the Lord’s Supper as the rite of covenant renewal. Only in the seventeenth century was the alternative perspective seriously considered by some. Since then, this progressive novelty has spread especially among independent evangelical churches. Therefore, from the perspective of historical evidence, the burden of proof is on the person who would invite unbaptized believers to communion. The burden of proof is not on the person who requires that baptism be a pre-requisite for communion.

 

Conclusion: No, Unbaptized Believers Should Not Be Invited to the Lord’s Table

It is not right nor safe for churches to invite the unbaptized to the table. No pastor, board of elders, denominational authority, Bible scholar, or professor of theology has the authority to undo what the apostles established and what churches practiced for sixteen centuries. And leaving the decision up to the individual is no solution. It makes no sense to relinquish pastoral responsibility over the proper admission to the table and rather to give this authority to the individual or the family to decide. In so doing, how are we not corporately failing to “discern the body”?

This is a serious matter, as both baptism and the Lord’s Supper are solemn, covenantal acts. The Lord’s Supper is not a point of personal devotion, but a point of corporate covenant renewal. And by “corporate” I mean the gathered visible body of Christ—the church established as such by baptism.

The biblical, theological, and historical facts place the burden of proof on the person who would invite unbaptized believers to communion. The burden of proof is not on the person who requires that baptism be a pre-requisite for communion. That is, the default position should be the requirement of baptism for participation in the Lord’s Supper; any differing practice must meet the burden of proof to demonstrate biblically, historically, theologically, and practically how deviating from this conservative position is proper and permissible.

A Few Thoughts on the Decalogue of Moses and the Disciple of Jesus

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There are Christians today who teach that the Decalogue (or Ten Commandments) are inseparable from the Law of Moses and that the Law of Moses (as framed in Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy) is inextricable from the Old Covenant in which it was given. Thus, as such, the Law of Moses (including the Ten Commandments as given through him) is not the positive rule of life for the believer, as we are not under the Old Covenant, but the New. These teachers include most who would identify themselves as “Dispensationalists,” but also those who hold to the recent movement in biblical theology called “New Covenant Theology.” However, the Reformed tradition going back to such reformers as Calvin, Zwingli, and Bucer and reflected in Reformed confessions would understand the Ten Commandments (the Decalogue) as in force today. They would be in good company, as many in the patristic and medieval churches would honor the Decalogue as a rule of life for Christians, reflecting God’s moral law as consistent with His moral character. This same moral law, incidentally, is viewed as concurring harmoniously with the natural moral law revealed in the heart of humanity (Rom. 2:14–15).

The present differing opinion between the abrogationist position and the continuationist position relates to an age-old debate regarding the right and proper uses of the Law for Christians. Most Protestants in the Reformation agreed (and still agree) that the Law of Moses (including the Ten Commandments) was intended to function for the Christian as a Sündenspiegel—a “mirror of sin,” revealing that we have sin and are guilty before God. It is also a Sündenriegel—or “restraint against sin,” holding back sin in our lives by revealing God’s disfavor of certain acts. However, a third use of the Law for the Christian was a point of some contention between some Lutherans and Calvinists—whether the Law (including the Ten Commandments) was intended to be a Lebensregel, or “rule of life,” that Christians were to positively follow as an external code, including the rule to keep the Sabbath.

Abrogationists take the position that the entire Law of Moses as codified and expressed in the commands and ordinances given at Sinai was part of a particular covenant relationship with Israel and with nobody else. Thus, technically, the Ten Commandments were given for Israel. Why? Because the Church does not relate to God through the Old Covenant of Moses but through the New Covenant of Christ. Does this, then, mean that abrogationists believe it’s permissible under the New Covenant to murder, commit adultery, worship other gods, or bear false witness against one’s neighbor? Is this antinomianism or libertinism? No. Those who hold that the Law was abrogated by Christ believe the Ten Commandments were covenantal and contextualized articulations of God’s positive eternal principles of love, goodness, justice, etc. They affirm that the Ten Commandments do reflect God’s eternal moral law, which is also reflected non-verbally in the heart as the law of nature. But the fact that God articulated the Ten Commandments as negatives (do not murder, do not commit adultery, etc.) would suggest to abrogationists that God’s eternal moral principles are refracted through the prism of a particular covenantal relationship at Sinai. That is, phrasing the commands in the negative implies that the people addressed would be inclined toward murder, adultery, lying, covetousness, etc. One would expect God’s moral principles, in conformity with His eternal nature and character, to be expressed positively—love life, be faithful, be truthful, be content.

Abrogationists would accept that the Ten Commandments are perfectly valid for showing a person how they fall short of God’s moral will; but the positive rule of life for the believer would be more like what the New Testament refers to as the fruit of the Spirit. That is, it is the Holy Spirit producing in the truly regenerate believers a spontaneous desire to love God and love others and thus manifest the “fruit of the Spirit.” Paul the Apostle said, “But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the Law. Now the deeds of the flesh are evident, which are: immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, disputes, dissensions, factions, envying, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these, of which I forewarn you, just as I have forewarned you, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law” (Gal. 5:18-23).

Thus, in the abrogationist perspective, for Christians walking in the Spirit, neither the Ten Commandments nor any other laws, commandments, and statutes of the Old Covenant of the Mosaic code are the normal “rule of life.” This is not lawlessness; it is lawfulfillness. This would be the typical view among abrogationists who view the Ten Commandments as essentially inseparable from the moral, civil, and ceremonial laws as well as from the hundreds of other commandments that expound on details of the covenant life of Israel. Nor are they separable from the promised benefits or condemnations that came along with obedience or disobedience of the Law. As such, the Ten Commandments may be a contextualized and covenantal reflection of God’s eternal moral will for His people, but to the abrogationist, the eternal ethic is actually positive. When a confessing Christian fails to walk in the Spirit and thus fulfill the eternal moral law of God, the Ten Commandments can be appealed to as a Sündenspiegel to show a person their transgression—like guidelines and guard rails on a road. But those guards are not the road itself, and they only come into play when a person swerves from the path they’re supposed to be following (Sündenriegel). The abrogationist will generally argue that to use the Ten Commandments as the Lebensregel or “rule of life” could lead to a kind of superficial self-righteousnessthat says, “I haven’t murdered, so I’m okay with God” or “I haven’t committed adultery, so I’m good.” It would be like a driver saying, “I haven’t gone into the ditch, so I’m a good driver,” all the while swerving back and forth erratically and running over road hazards.    

As a rule, confessional Reformed Christians hold the Ten Commandments to be a revelation of God’s moral law that is binding on believers as a rule of life. Most are bound to this view by their governing confession of faith. However, other theologians from various traditions and confessions are free to discuss different perspectives on how the Ten Commandments and other Old Testament laws and statutes may or may not apply directly or indirectly to the life of the disciple of Jesus. The questions are not irrelevant. Are we obligated to rest on the seventh day (Saturday)? Or on the first (Sunday)? Or at all? Must we tithe ten percent of our income to the church? Stone disobedient children? Can we eat blood sausage (Blutwurst)? Bacon? How old and obsolete (and thus abrogated) is the Old Covenant Law for those under the New Covenant? Doesn’t the command to love God and love one another fulfill the spirit of the Law—that is, the eternal moral Law of God? The abrogationist would appeal to the New Testament idea that with the changing of the priesthood, the Law also is changed (Heb. 17:12); and that the death of Christ has abolished the Law of commandments (Eph. 2:15).

Abrogationists do not believe Christians under the New Covenant are free to murder, commit adultery, blaspheme, etc.—things forbidden by the Ten Commandments. What they say is that Christians are not a party to the Mosaic Covenant given at Sinai, where Israelites placed themselves under the Decalogue and the other ordinances and statutes as a response to their redemption from Egypt and as part of a unique covenant relationship with God. However, though the Ten Commandments were not for the Church, this doesn’t leave Christians without moral imperatives. In fact, the commandments of the Law of Christ to love God and love others, to reflect faith, hope, and love in everything, and to manifest the fruit of the Spirit in all situations—these things are more demanding, as Christ articulated in His Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5). To fulfill Christ’s law of love is to surpass the external stipulations of the Ten Commandments, as Paul taught in Galatians 5:18, 22-23.

Though this abrogationist approach may not be in conformity with the written confessions of the Reformed churches, this approach is not a novelty and not a heresy. It is similar to the view articulated by the second century Christian apologist, Justin Martyr (c. AD 150), in his Dialogue with Trypho, a dispute with an unbelieving Jew. Justin writes, “Nor have we trusted in any other (for there is no other), but in Him in whom you [Jews] also have trusted, the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob. But we do not trust through Moses or through the law; for then we would do the same as yourselves. But now—for I have read that there shall be a final law, and a covenant, the chiefest of all, which it is now incumbent on all men to observe, as many as are seeking after the inheritance of God. For the law promulgated on Horeb is now old, and belongs to yourselves alone; but this is for all universally. Now, law placed against law has abrogated that which is before it, and a covenant which comes after in like manner has put an end to the previous one; and an eternal and final law—namely, Christ—has been given to us, and the covenant is trustworthy, after which there shall be no law, no commandment, no ordinance” (Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho 11).

Similarly, Irenaeus of Lyons, a late second century student of Justin Martyr and defender of the faith against heretics like the Gnostics and Marcion, put it this way: “Since, then, by this calling life has been given (us), and God has summed up again for Himself in us the faith of Abraham, we ought not to turn back any more—I mean, to the first legislation. For we have received the Lord of the Law, the Son of God; and by faith in Him we learn to love God with all our heart, and our neighbour as ourselves. Now the love of God is far from all sin, and love to the neighbour worketh no ill to the neighbour. Wherefore also we need not the Law as a tutor. Behold, with the Father we speak, and in His presence we stand, being children in malice, and grown strong in all righteousness and soberness. For no longer shall the Law say, Do not commit adultery, to him who has no desire at all for another’s wife; and Thou shalt not kill, to him who has put away from himself all anger and enmity; (and) Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s field or ox or ass, to those who have no care at all for earthly things, but store up the heavenly fruits: nor An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, to him who counts no man his enemy, but all men his neighbors, and therefore cannot stretch out his hand at all for vengeance.” (Irenaeus, Demonstration of the Apostolic Preaching 95).

Besides this, we have the evidence of the “Two Ways” section of the Didache, a first-century pre-baptismal catechetical manual (c. 50-70), the earliest of its kind writing during the age of the apostles themselves. In its opening chapters describing the “way of life” of a consecrated disciple of Jesus, the author gives no sustained, orderly articulation of the Ten Commandments as a Lebensregel. The ethical and moral principles reflected in the Ten Commandments are clearly present, but the expectation of the disciple of Jesus is quite clearly deeper, broader, and loftier than the stipulations of the Law. The Didachist writes, “And the second commandment of the teaching is this: Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not sodomize, do not commit sexual immorality, do not steal, do not practice magic, do not use potions, do not murder a child by abortion, do not kill the just-born one, do not yearn after the things of your neighbor. Do not commit perjury, do not bear false witness, do not speak evil of anyone, do not bear a grudge. You will be neither double-minded nor double-tongued; for being double-tongued is a snare of death. Your speech should not be false or empty, but filled with action. Do be not greedy, or vicious, or a hypocrite, or spiteful, or proud. Do take up not an evil plan against your neighbor. Do not hate any person, but some you should correct, others you should pray for and others you should love even more than your own life” (Didache 2.1–7). This articulation of the Christians’ “Do Nots” are not a framed, embossed, or stained-glass repetition of the Ten Commandments. These are much closer to Paul’s “deeds of the flesh” vices (Gal. 5:19–21).

In short, the abrogationist position on the replacement of the Ten Commandments as a rule of life (Lebensregel) by Christ, the law of love, and the fruit of the Spirit is certainly not the same as the later patristic catholic church, the Medieval Catholic Church, or the standard Reformed catholic confessions. But it is in keeping with some of the orthodox leaders of the earliest catholic Christianity of the first and second centuries. The Ten Commandments were not presented by the earliest Church as the foundation of its catechetical moral instruction, as evidenced by the first-century Didache.Yes, the Ten Commandments portion of the covenant with Israel at Horeb eventually worked its way into the deontological ethic of the church and became immortalized as a Lebensregel in especially the Reformed confessions. This is not disputed. But its place as a rule of life in the earliest apostolic and post-apostolic periods is not at all clear or secure. At least the abrogationist call for a deeper, broader, and loftier application of the eternal law of love and fruit of the Spirit, against which there is no Law, cannot be regarded as heresy without defining heresy as “taking a position that differs from our provincial denominational confession written less than 500 years ago.” The testimonies of Justin, Irenaeus, and the earliest church do not allow such a declaration.

My hope here is not to change anybody’s mind from a continuationist to an abrogationist position on the role of the Decalogue in the Christian life. It’s to clarify what is and isn’t being held and taught by the different positions. This isn’t a matter of orthodoxy and heresy, but a matter of confessional commitment. Incidentally, my own position lands somewhere in the middle. I’m neither a full abrogationist nor a complete continuationist. At the same time, I have sympathies with both perspectives. I fully embrace the function of the Decalogue as a Sündenspiegel and Sündenriegel. However, I also think the Ten Commandments can (and probably ought) to have an important pedagogical function as a Lebensregel for children being raised in the covenant community of the church and for new believers finding their footing in the Christian life. However, with Paul I also acknowledge that regenerate believers walking in the Spirit who manifest the fruit of the Spirit and fulfill the spirit of the Law have no need to constantly consult the Decalogue as a rule of life. Beyond this, I also believe the Ten Commandments serve an important function as a means by which God holds back wickedness in the church, which is necessarily, though not ideally, a mixed community of regenerate and unregenerate people. The Ten Commandments can also have a similar function in societies in which the church has exerted some influence on the morality and ethics of the culture.

Some Historical Voices on Christian Voting

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ForkChristians today often face the seemingly impossible choice between casting his or her vote for a radically liberal candidate or a radical conservative…one who upholds a repugnant set of vices or another who embodies a disgusting set of vices…a politician who is slimy or a politician who is crooked. Rarely do we get to choose between an obviously wicked public enemy and a clearly righteous public servant. When we do have more tolerable alternatives, they often represent nearly microscopic political movements with almost no hope of paddling their tiny canoes across the political Pacific. Few want to cast their votes with them.

So, as we stand at this multi-pronged fork in the road, it appears to many of us that the road to the left leads to devastation; the road to the right leads to destruction; the smaller paths in the middle seem to go nowhere. At this puzzling juncture, we hear and read all manner of opinions, perspectives, arguments, and assessments. The simple, God-fearing Christian who just wants to do what’s right feels paralyzed with indecision. Do I vote for “the party” but not “the person”? Do I vote for “Mrs. X” simply because she’s not “Mr. Y”? Do I vote for “Z” and hope this balance of power thing actually works? Or do I vote for neither? But then what? Leave the presidential boxes blank and just vote for offices on the rest of the ballot? Write in a candidate? Support a third party? Build a bunker? Flee to Canada?

At times like these, I sometimes find it comforting to remember that we’re not the first generation of Christians to face this kind of issue. Though Christians in the ancient, medieval, and reformation periods didn’t have the right to vote for their government leaders, forgotten Christian voices from the more recent past have left their thoughts for us. They may not have faced such perplexing problems as many of us seem to face today in national, state, and local elections, but their insights might help each of us think through the issues with more depth of perspective.

So, as we repeatedly face the fork in the road, let’s pause, turn around, and look backward down the path for some wisdom from the past. When we do, we realize that others who have faced similar crises can lend us a little insight. In the following quotations, I’ve included a variety of theological traditions. These excerpts all bear the marks of their very specific historical, social, political, and theological contexts, but they touch on some important principles to consider. I don’t agree with everything they say (and generally not a fan of Finney!), but I still think their voices deserve to be heard.

Charles G. Finney, Second Great Awakening Revivalist Preacher, 1835.

It is perfectly in the power of the church to regulate the commerce of the world, if they will only themselves maintain perfect integrity.

And if Christians will do the same in politics, they will sway the destinies of nations, without involving themselves at all in the base and corrupting strife of parties. Only let Christians generally determine to vote for no man for any office, that is not an honest man and a man of pure morals, and let it be known that Christians are united in this, whatever may be their difference in political sentiments, and no man would be put up who is not such a character. In three years it would be talked about in taverns and published in newspapers, when any man is set up as a candidate for office, “What a good man he is, how moral, how pious,” and the like. And any political party would no more set up a known Sabbath breaker, or a gambler, or a profane swearer, or a whoremonger, or a rum-seller, as their candidate for office, than they would set up the devil himself for president. The carnal policy of many professors, who undertake to correct politics by such means as wicked men employ, and who are determined to vote with a party, let the candidate be ever so profligate, is all wrong, wrong in principle, contrary to philosophy and common sense, and ruinous to the best interests of mankind. The dishonesty of the church is cursing the world.

(Charles G. Finney, Lectures on Revivals of Religion, 2d ed. [New York: Leavitt, Lord, & Co., 1835], 138).

From John A. James, English Congregational Preacher and Writer, 1840.  

A question is sometimes asked, whether a professing christian, in exercising his elective franchise, ought to give his vote for an ungodly man; or whether, in the case of a contested election, he ought not to uphold the interests of piety, rather than those of a party, by endeavouring to promote the return of a christian, though he may take a side in politics opposed to his own? This resolves itself into another question, “What is the end of civil government?” If this be the promotion of religion, there can be no question but the christian man ought to be supported by all Christians: but if, on the other hand, the end of civil government be the protection of life, liberty, and property, with all that can conduce to the complete enjoyment of these, piety, however desirable as a qualification, is not indispensable. He who best understands the purposes of civil government, and has the best views of the means of promoting them, is the fittest person for such a situation. Piety is desirable for persons in all situations. Who would not wish to have a pious lawyer, or physician; but does any one reject an eminently skilful one, because he is not a pious man, and choose one of less skill, on the ground of his religion? A man may be a very holy professor, and yet a very bad statesman: and indeed the holier he is as a man, the more mischievous he may be as a senator, if he has wrong political sentiments, as his virtues may produce a toleration even for his errors. No false measures are likely to do half the harm, which is done by those of good men. Many of the most distinguished statesmen, in whom all parties have placed, according to their political creed, the greatest confidence, have been far enough off from personal religion. If none but good men are to be chosen, we must go without a legislature, or have a very incompetent one. True it is, there are some men so utterly bad, so notoriously vicious, and immoral, that it is an insult to virtue, and an outrage upon decency to elect them. But, with such exceptions as these, it is not possible to make piety a sort of senatorial eligibility. Converted men may make very bad laws, and unconverted ones, very good laws. Still it is a consummation devoutly to be wished, that our “officers should be peace, and our exactors righteousness.”

(John Angell James, The Christian Professor Address, in a Series of Counsels and Cautions, 3d ed. [London: Hamilton, Adams, and Co., 1840], 148–149).   

Reverend E. N. Bartlett, Congregationalist Pastor, 1846.

No matter how flagitious the characters of the candidates may be, though they be “devils incarnate,” if by the management of parties, a “crises” has been brought about, and one or the other of the rival candidates must be elected, the Christian, it is urged, is bound to vote for the less obnoxious of the two. On this point Dr. [Nathaniel] Taylor [of Yale] is explicit, and his illustration is the legitimate carrying out of his principles. “Suppose,” he says, “there is no reasonable doubt that one of two devils, one of which is less a devil than the other, will be actually elected, let the Christian vote as he may, and that his vote will therefore be utterly lost if he does not vote for one of them. I think that an enlightened Christian would vote for the least devil of the two!” And this invocation of help from the devil in time of trouble, is justified by an appeal to the “circumstances of the case” and the “necessity” Christians are under of “choosing the least of two evils.” And upon those who refuse to sacrifice to devils under such circumstances, is charged the responsibility of “neglecting to prevent” and therefore of “producing the greater of two evils.” Against such principles and such a charging over of responsibility, I protest. What! shall a Christian people strike hands with the wicked, and say to Belial, “rule thou over us”? Shall they lend their influence and efforts deliberately to install a devil in the chair of state? Shall they let their minds be blinded by the fallacious resort to extreme suppositions? Such extreme cases will never occur, if Christians will do their duty. “Good men are the fountain of character,” even with respect to rulers. Let the professedly Christian portion of our nation stand fast by the principles inculcated in the scriptures, and proclaim their position to the world as unalterable, and they never need be caught again in the dilemma. They can dictate to the nation if they will. The question for American Christians to ask is not, What would be duty in a barbarous nation where no good men could be found! nor, Can we elect a good candidate if we try! but, are the candidates whom we are called upon to support, men whom God will approve? If so, support them; if not, refrain: and let the “potsherds strive with the potsherds of the earth.” Or, if votes must be cast, let them be cast for honest men, irrespective of party nominations. Is it objected that this would be throwing away votes, and that it is better to save a little than lose the whole! I answer, that what can’t be saved by right means is not worth saving. The good that can be purchased only by doing evil, costs too much.

(E. N. Bartlett, “Address before the Alumni of the Oberlin Collegiate Institute, Delivered at Commencement, Aug. 25, 1846, in Oberlin Evangelist, vol. 8, no. 19 [September 16, 1846], 149).

From The Covenanter, of the Presbyterian Reformed Church, 1859.

The plea is sometimes put forward that by taking part in electioneering politics, Christians may prevent much evil, and do good. It is assumed that the franchise, being a solemn trust, will always be exercised by Christian men, in the churches, for the placing of worthy persons in civil offices, and for the promotion of the best moral and religious public measures. It might be a sufficient answer to such an allegation, that we are never to do evil that good may come; and if the elector cannot tender his vote for a candidate for the Legislature, without virtually binding himself by oath to uphold what is unscriptural, Antichristian, and infidel, then his plain duty is to abstain from voting, rather than belie his Christian profession, and defile his conscience. The plea of doing good by taking part in ungodly politics, is utterly fallacious. Those who are most ready to advance it, among professed Christians in the churches, only, in fact, do evil in this case, and their conduct is followed by no other result than evil. In political elections, it is party and class interests that are generally consulted, and not the moral and religious character of the aspirants to legislative office. In the United States, it is notorious that those who are termed New Light Covenanters, frequently vote for the worst man to fill national and State offices—for the advocates of slavery—and for such as have no claim to the possession either of Scriptural qualifications or of a proper moral character.

(“Evils in the Churches—Ungodly Politics of the Day,” in The Covenanter [March, 1859], 196)

From The Epworth Herald, a publication of the Methodist Epworth League, 1907

No righteous vote is ever thrown away, even though it is in such a hopeless minority that the judges do not count it.

No nation is safe until its citizens care more about its safety than about their own.

A nation is safe so long as it prefers godliness before gain, and truth before trade.

It is good to pray for righteous rulers, and one of the best accompaniments of such prayer is a righteous vote. Unrighteous voting is nullification, and makes the prayer a blasphemy.

A nation dedicated to liberty should serve Him whose service is perfect freedom.

The politics of this world will never be purified by the ungodly.

(“The Mixing of Religion and Politics,” The Epworth Herald, vol. 18 [June 15, 1907], 87)

 

Some Thoughts on Intra-Trinitarian Relationships in the Earliest Church Fathers

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Back in 2004, I presented a very long (71-page) paper at the Evangelical Theological Society entitled, “Power in Unity, Diversity in Rank: Subordination and the Trinity in the Fathers of the Early Church.” This paper was the result of research I conducted related to my PhD studies in patristics. In light of recent discussions among evangelicals regarding the issue of subordination and intra-trinitarian relationships, I thought I would make this paper available. It is an exhaustive (some might say, exhausting) analysis of every instance in which the relationships between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are even mentioned in the orthodox writings between Didache and Irenaeus. The full paper can be found here as a PDF. Because it was written in 2004, it is clearly not up-to-date in its secondary literature, but my hope is that interested readers will find the primary source data (all included in a lengthy appendix) to be helpful.

Below, I include the excerpt from the paper that summarizes my conclusions and implications based on the work of these early fathers. I would ask that readers first review the analysis of the entire paper before interacting with my conclusions.

Excerpt from Michael J. Svigel, “Power in Unity, Diversity in Rank: Subordination and the Trinity in the Fathers of the Early Church,” a Paper Presented at the 56th Annual Meeting of the Evangelical Theological Society, November 18, 2004, San Antonio, Texas.

Conclusions

Based on the preceding analyses, we can make the following conclusions regarding the relationships of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in the writings of the earliest fathers.

No Clear Arian Ontological Subordination. There is no clear example of an Arian ontological subordinationism in which the Son is a created being or has an inferior divinity to the Father, though Tatian’s concept of the Logos may come close. When their language was clear, the early fathers’ concept of subordination was functional, not ontological. LaCugna rightly stated that “we should not regard this economic subordinationism as heretical or even as an inferior or incoherent Christian theology of God and Christ.”[1] Rather, just the opposite is true: where there was opportunity given by the context, Christ was called “God,” “eternal,” or the essential mediator of the Father’s will.

No Functional Egalitarianism. There is no discernible tradition whatsoever of what is today described as ontological and functional equality or a “communitarian” or “democratic” model of the Trinity. Nor is there clear evidence of a view which states that the persons of the Godhead could have agreed to take on different roles than what has unfolded in the economy of creation (e.g. that the Father could have become incarnate or the Son could have indwelled believers rather than the Holy Spirit).

Ontological Equality and Functional Subordination. There is an overwhelming tradition of what is today described as ontological equality and functional subordination within the Trinity that emphasizes the monarchia of the Father. While the Son and Spirit are not creatures, the Father is their head, meaning that all activities conform to his will.

Possible Drift toward Ontological Subordinationism. While the later second century fathers began to speculate more on the specific nature of the generation of the Son,[2] we begin to discern language implying an eternal functional subordination while still maintaining essential (ontological) equality. However, with Tatian the language becomes fuzzy, and the stage appears to be set for greater deviation away from ontological equality toward Arian ontological subordinationism.

 

Implications

If, for the sake of argument, we were to regard the fathers of the first and second centuries as our canon of orthodoxy and the proper understanding of Scripture, then our judgments on various views of subordination and the Trinity become rather clear.     

Eternal Functional Equality and Ontological Equality. Modern day advocates of what I call “eternal functional equality” suggest that “there can be no separation between the being and the acts of God, between the one divine nature of the three persons and their functions.”[3] Therefore, orthodox ontological equality is said to demand functional equality as well, and distinctions in rank between the Father, Son, and Spirit are rejected. Instead, the Father, Son, and Spirit are regarded as functioning in a co-equal fellowship, with one mind and will. Though each member of the Triune community performs distinct activities, these activities are not ordered in rank or hierarchy.[4] Instead of the Son and Spirit functioning in submission to the Father, the three persons are said to function in mutual submission to each other. In light of this study, the problem with such a view is that no extant Christian writings of the first and second centuries suggest anything remotely close to such a model, but rather consistently present the Father as the head and the Son and Spirit as functioning in submission to the Father.

Incarnational Functional Subordination and Ontological Equality. Advocates of a temporary or voluntary subordination of the Son to the Father limit the submission of the Son to the time of his earthly ministry or commencing with the incarnation. Thus, the Son’s role of submission to God is a result of his taking on full human nature and living in obedience to the law. However, in light of the early fathers, limiting the functional subordination of the Son to the incarnation would be too narrow. In the first and second century writers, the Son and Spirit consistently submit to the Father’s will, even prior to the Son’s incarnation and Spirit’s sending into the world. Also, such a view of incarnational subordination does not explain why the Holy Spirit is presented by the fathers as functioning in submission to the will of the Father without having become incarnate.

Eternal Functional Subordination and Ontological Equality. If we were to employ first and second century Christian teaching as a standard, the advocates of an eternal functional subordination of the Son to the Father would have little clear evidence to support their view. The descriptions of the relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit in the early fathers refer to activities of the Godhead in relation to the created order. Apart from actual activities in creation, the nature of the relationships is vague. This does not preclude the existence of an ordered relationship based on fatherhood, sonship, and spiration, but the actual evidence is minimal and unclear. In this sense, complaints against the language of “eternal functional subordination” seem to be valid, and evangelicals should probably cease using such terms.[5]

Economic Functional Subordination and Ontological Equality.[6] The view of the earliest post-apostolic fathers is best described as one in which Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are co-eternal and co-equal with regard to deity and power, but in extra-Trinitarian actions the Father is the head, the Son is the mediator, and the Spirit is the pervasive active presence of God. While we cannot logically project this economic functional subordination into an eternal state apart from creation, this taxis would be consistent with the interpersonal relationships implied by the names “Father,” “Son,” and “Spirit.”

Eternal Functional Subordination and Ontological Subordination. The fathers’ consistent subordination of the Son to the Father in their will and works has sometimes been mistaken for an ontological subordination relegating either the Son or the Spirit to the realm of finite creation rather than eternal deity. For example, in his polemic against Trinitarianism in favor of Unitarianism, Stannus, citing Polycarp’s prayer on the pyre as evidence of non-trinitarianism in the second century, writes, “The ante-Nicene fathers invariably spoke of Christ as subordinate to the Father.”[7] Although he is correct in this assertion, his conclusion that this necessarily implies an inequality of divinity is an unfounded exaggeration. His error is similar to that of modern assertions that subordination in function necessarily means inequality of eternal nature. Where the early fathers are not silent, they illustrate that one can hold simultaneously to both functional subordination and ontological equality of being. Therefore, attempts by groups such as Jehovah’s Witnesses who seek sympathetic theology in the early fathers are misguided.[8]

 

Two Final Questions

Does Economic Functional Subordination Prescribe a Particular Social Order? The ordering of ecclesiastical leadership suggested in 1 Clement and stated explicitly and repeatedly in the Letters of Ignatius was not tied to an eternal role in the Godhead, but to the sending of the Son in the economy of salvation. This ordering is independent of questions regarding the eternal relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit. In the context of contemporary egalitarian and complementarian debates—whether in the home, government, society, or church—the debate concerning eternal functional subordination is irrelevant as far as the early fathers are concerned. There appears to have been enough justification for ecclesiastical ordering in the simple fact that the Son was sent into the world. However, we must recognize that the fathers do not extend this divine ordering beyond that of ecclesiastical structures. Although 1 Clement addressed the issue of God’s establishment of human government on earth to which all men are to submit, he linked such authority to his divine decree, not to a Trinitarian model (1 Clem. 61:1). However, one could suggest that the ways in which God orders society in general should be consistent with his work. In short, functional subordination in the Trinity need not be eternal to serve as a basis for social structures, but this type of application of Trinitarian theology outside church order is not found in the early fathers.

Are the Early Fathers “Orthodox” or “Heretical”?[9] Based on an exhaustive analysis of the primary evidence summarized in this paper, the fathers’ teaching can be summed up in Athenagoras’s statement, “power in unity, diversity in rank.” For a moment, allow me a brief fit of rhetoric. Those who want to define historical orthodoxy as discerning no functional distinction in rank between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are forced into one of three solutions with regard to the first and second century fathers. They must either a) anathematize the early fathers as heretics; b) twist their writings to conform to an egalitarian standard; or c) simply ignore them. It appears that most have chosen the final option. I reject this move. Instead, I believe we ought to embrace the early fathers as a solid, though developing, orthodox link in the chain of Trinitarian tradition handed down from the apostles in Scripture, subsequently taught by catechesis and liturgy, and guided in its growth and development by the teaching ministry of the Holy Spirit. If this is the case, orthodoxy must not only grudgingly accept the concept of ontological equality and functional subordination as merely an acceptable option, but perhaps it should cheerfully embrace it as most accurately reflecting the faith “once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3) and handed down to “faithful men” who were “able to teach others also” (2 Tim 2:2).

Visual Summary of Evidence

TrinSum.

[1] LaCugna, God for Us, 26.

[2] This may have been the impetus for Irenaeus to assert that the generation of the Son is unknowable (A.H. 2.28.6).

[3] Giles, The Trinity and Subordinationism, 93.

[4] Ibid., 92–96.

[5] In my current thinking on this matter, the second century fathers’ adamant insistence on the utter distinction of Creator and creature, with the latter a creation ex nihilo, makes the notion of eternal functional subordination a problematic description. Subordination or submission to the will of the Father implies some sort of activity or function. Without a creation in which and toward which such actions are aimed, can we really speak about “subordination?” Unless we argue for a subordination of essential nature, we cannot speak of subordination in a timeless, eternal state. My view, of course, assumes a notion of creation ex nihilo. However, if one advances a doctrine of God and time that includes God’s “own time” or some pre-creational activity, then the term “eternal functional subordination” could be a legitimate category. On historical and contemporary issues of God, time, and creation, see William Lane Craig, God, Time, and Eternity—The Coherence of Theism II: Eternity (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic, 2001).

[6] My use of the term “economic” here refers to any divine activity in the economy of creation. That is, in all extra-Trinitarian works of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It does not apply to whatever inconceivable and unknowable relationship the Father, Son, and Spirit had in their existence apart from creation.

[7] Stannus, Doctrine of the Trinity, 28.

[8] Cf. for example, Greg Stafford, Jehovah’s Witnesses Defended: An Answer to Scholars and Critics, 2d ed. (Huntington Beach, CA: Elihu, 2000), 215.

[9] This assumes, of course, that we can meaningfully use these terms in their normal sense with reference to the early fathers who precede the ecumenical councils of the fourth and fifth centuries. While historians shy away from them, evangelicals may use these terms because of their belief in a transcendent standard of doctrinal truth against which teachings of every age can be measured.

“And Now for Something Completely Different”: Exploring Christian Theology

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ECTnewSoon Bethany House (a division of Baker Publishing Group) will begin releasing a trilogy of mini-theologies entitled Exploring Christian Theology edited by Dr. Nathan Holsteen and me, with significant contributions by our colleagues in the theological studies department of Dallas Theological Seminary: Dr. Douglas Blount, Dr. Scott Horrell, Dr. Lanier Burns, and Dr. Glenn Kreider. We’re starting with what is actually the third volume in the series (The Church, Spiritual Growth, and the End Times), then releasing volumes 1 and 2 in the next couple of years.

But wait a second . . . Why another “systematic theology” when the market is flooded with them? To answer this question, let me say that ECT is not another systematic theology. In fact, I can honestly say that this series is something completely different. 

Let me explain.

Like any good introduction to evangelical theology, the three volumes in ECT will present believers with much-needed introductions, overviews, and reviews of key tenets of orthodox protestant evangelical theology without getting bogged down in confusing details or distracted by mean, campy debates. These three simple and succinct books will provide accessible and convenient summaries of major themes of evangelical Christian doctrine, reorienting believers to the essential truths of the classic faith while providing vital guidebooks for a theologically illiterate church.

But isn’t that what every entry-level theological intro promises? Yes, but let give you six reasons Exploring Christian Theology really is completely different.

First, we wrote Exploring Christian Theology for a genuinely inter-denominational evangelical audience. And when we say “inter-denominational,” we don’t mean that we’re trying to get conservative Lutherans, Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, Anglicans, and Charismatics to read our theology in order to persuade them to leave their branch of evangelicalism and climb onto ours. Not at all! Instead, we’re descriptively presenting the whole tree of evangelical orthodoxy—as dispassionately and positively as possible. This means pastors, teachers, students, lay-leaders, new believers, and mature saints of every orthodox protestant evangelical church can use these volumes without feeling like they have to constantly counter our assertions with their own views on the matter. Simply put, we’re so interdenominational that if a reader doesn’t agree with our central assertions, they’re probably not orthodox, protestant, or evangelical.

Second, the style of this series will be genuinely popular, informal, and accessible. Sometimes extremely so. Think contractions . . . illustrations . . . alliteration. You’ll see generous bullet points, charts, and graphs instead of just walls of impenetrably dense text on every page. Brace yourself for the pace of a hockey game rather than a golf tournament (sorry, golfers, but . . . YAWN). We wrote this for people who don’t necessarily carry around a large arsenal of biblical, theological, and historical facts in a side holster.

Third, you’ll find this series to be worth every penny you spend on it and, more importantly, every minute you spend reading it. Let’s face it, some mini-theologies with a broad appeal are just fancy-wrapped junk food with very little spiritually nutritional value. Yes, these volumes are intended to be “stepping stools” to the bottom shelf—brief, succinct summaries of specific areas of doctrine that can each be read quickly, consulted easily, and grasped by anybody. But at the same time you’ll find them to be comprehensive, thorough, careful, and—if you bother to explore the endnotes—well-researched and documented.

Fourth, this is a community-authored theology. Rather than presenting the perspectives and opinions of an individual teacher, tradition, or denomination, Exploring Christian Theology is planned, written, and edited by several theologians who are experts in their various fields. We hold each other accountable to avoid personal hobby horses, pet peeves, and doctrinal idiosyncrasies. In other words, you’ll never get one man’s opinion about this or that doctrine. Instead, you’ll get a clear explanation of the classic orthodox, protestant, evangelical consensus and a dispassionate presentation of points of allowable disagreement and diversity within evangelicalism. As such, these handbooks can be confidently used for discipleship, catechesis, membership training, preview or review of doctrine, or personal quick reference by any orthodox, protestant, evangelical church or Christian.

Fifth, these volumes will serve as a foyer into a broader and deeper study of the Christian tradition. We didn’t design Exploring Christian Theology to compete with other systematic theologies in the marketplace. There are a lot of great ones out there—some reflecting the views of certain confessions or traditions, others the perspectives of specific teachers or preachers. Our volumes are designed to supplement (not supplant) more detailed systematic theologies . . . to complement (not compete with) intermediate and advanced works. We promise that after thumbing through ECT, you’ll be much better prepared to read more advanced systematic theologies with informed discernment and a firm grasp on  central tenets as well as an understanding of ancillary discussions.

Finally, there are unique features in Exploring Christian Theology you’ll have a hard time finding all together anywhere else. Right up front we present a high altitude survey of the doctrine in order to set forth the unity of the faith among numerous diverse evangelical traditions. Then you’ll find no-nonsense discussions of key Scripture passages related to that volume’s specific areas of theology. You’ll also find a very helpful narrative of the history of the doctrine throughout the patristic, medieval, reformation, and modern eras. We also provide a glossary of important terms related to the doctrines as well as a feature called “Shelf Space” with recommended resources for probing deeper. By the end of each part of the volume dedicated to a particular area of doctrine, you’ll be warned about the most prominent false teachings related to the doctrine and encouraged with practical application points flowing from a right understanding of the doctrine. Besides all this and more, I’ve been told that the generous first-hand quotations from church fathers, theologians, scholars, reformers, pastors, and teachers from the whole span of church history is worth the entire volume.

In short, Exploring Christian Theology is not my theology, but our theology—the theology of the orthodox, protestant, evangelical tradition. It’s presented in a winsome (and sometimes whimsical) way. It balances biblical, theological, historical, and practical perspectives. And it’s written with the whole evangelical tradition in view.

You can pre-order Exploring Christian Theology today from these sellers:

Dallas Seminary bookstore

Amazon.com

Barnes & Noble