The Method of Christian Theology - A Review

If there is a list of people’s favorite topics in religious studies, theological method is probably not on it. Theological method is like exercise fundamentals for sports—it’s the drill, the stretching, the knowledge of warmup and cooldown technique. Theological method is learning the optimal stride length, the number of strokes per length, or the way to hold your head when you are trying to fake the defender out.

In other words, theological method is extremely important for being really good at theology, but it’s the part of the process that most people like to skip right by. In reality, unless there is something quite wrong, you can produce what appears to be reasonably sound theology without a lot of thought to method. However, when the fundamentals are wrong it limits your future prospects, makes it harder to fix problems later on in your development, and can lead you in unhelpful directions.

Theology method is not sexy, but it is very important.

Rhyne Putman’s book, The Method of Christian Theology: A Basic Introduction, provides an accessible, engaging entry into the fundamentals of the discipline.

Summary

This book is divided into four different parts, unevenly sized, that walk readers through the prolegomena––the foreword, so to speak––of theology. Part One begins by providing an overview of theology, its nature as a process of describing truth, its components and purpose of making disciples, followed by an overview of the various ways that people approach theology—biblical, systematic, etc. Part Two emphasizes the need to be the right sort of person to pursue theology and have a mind ready to receive God’s word and think through that. The third part shifts to the practical by considering method-proper. Putman begins with Scripture, which is the supreme authority for Christian theology. He then considers the place of tradition, philosophy, and experience within the theological project. Only then does he sketch a basic procedure for doing theology. Part Four lands the book with the important, but oft neglected practical aspects of theology: proper contextualization, writing a research paper, and preaching a doctrinal sermon. The conclusion of the volume again emphasizes the importance of making disciples.

Analysis

There are various ways that a book on theological method could be approached. Some authors do primarily descriptive work, showing how various theologians have approached the task of theology. Some focus on a critical approach, outlining, diagnosing, and seeking to correct the work of others. Putman’s approach includes some of those aspects, but his primary focus is on helping the prospective theologian be the sort of person who can do theology well and to outline an approach that will help that budding teacher to make disciples.

There are other good books on theological method on the market. In fact, in terms of the raw content, Putman’s book is a standard work that stays cleanly between the lines of orthodoxy, especially as it is expressed in the Protestant evangelical tradition that most Baptists call home.

The emphasis on the character of the theologian is a strength of this volume. At the heart of Putman’s arguments is the belief that “The end goal of critical theological study is not building an academic program impenetrable to people in the pews but building the kingdom of God through seeing transformed lives, churches, and cultures through Christian disciple-making.” (44) Elsewhere he writes, “I grow frustrated with professing Christians who don’t seem content until they have something to be angry about. With their own ‘outbursts of anger,’ they police the thoughts and behaviors of others but seem blind to their own quarrelsome and bullyish ways.” (92)

Putman is not interested in raising up a generation of warrior children of the conservative resurgence, who tend to confuse contending for the faith with being contentious about the faith. Neither is he looking to increase the nerd-quotient of the local church. Instead, he sees the method of theology as becoming a better disciple of Christ that is equipped to make disciples for Christ. This is a significant and vital difference.

Conclusion

The Method of Christian Theology would be a good course text for an undergraduate or intro-level seminary course on systematic theology. It would also be an excellent resource for training a group of elders or simply encouraging doctrinal thinking among the laity in a local church. The book is beyond what might be useful in most contexts for Sunday school. However, my intention is to use it as an introductory text for a high school systematic theology course.

As someone who has studied theology for a number of years, this was a refreshing and encouraging book. For the pastor seeking to deepen his understanding of doctrine or refocus his interest in theology, this would also be a helpful resource.

The Method of Christian Theology: A Basic Introduction

By Putman, Rhyne

Buy on Amazon

You're Only Human - A Review

Billions of advertising dollars are spent each year to tell us which products can help us break through our own limits or the limits of human existence. They tell us that we can be all things at all times. The world is open to us with unending possibilities.

It is a powerful message. When we see the ads it seems empowering, because we all want to feel like heroes––like superhumans––as if there is no end to what we can do.

But what if it’s all a lie? What if we are really limited as human beings and as individuals with specific gifts, responsibilities, and experiences? What if the result of trying to live as if all boundaries are fake, all limits are self-imposed, and all desires for more are good is not a good thing? What if wanting to be more than what we were created to be is not a secret to a fulfilled, happy life but the recipe for a life of constant angst and stress?

Kelly Kapic explains the goodness of the limits that God has designed into our humanity in his book, You’re Only Human. This is a theologically rich and pastoral book that can serve people in every stage of life. This is a book for the pastor trying to do it all. It’s a book for the teen heading out to take over the world. It’s a book for the middle-aged church member lamenting the things they didn’t accomplish in their life and wishing that so many windows had not already closed.

The epigram at the beginning of the first chapter sums up the book: “Many of us fail to understand that our limitations are a gift from God, and therefore good. This produces in us the burden of trying to be something we are not and cannot be.”

Kapic is right. We are all tired as a result of our unnecessary burden.

Summary

The book is divided into two basically even parts. Part One has five chapters and wrestles with the fact that we have each been given by God a particular location, situation, and calling as well as limits that are unique to us. He shows how the gospel changes us and sets us free from sin, but it does not make us superhuman. He reflects on the goodness of the limited body, the importance of physical touch––an important reminder in light of our recent isolation––and the ways that our identify is formed by our community, not just by an act of the will.

Part Two also has five chapters that explore the nature of a healthy dependence. All five chapters help remind readers that God put us in community for a reason and that we were not meant to be self-contained dynamos for everything that God desires to do in this world. He explores the way that humility is sometimes misunderstood as simply being willing to admit mistakes, showing that humility also means acknowledging our own inability to know or do everything. Kapic outlines the way our time-driven world increases our anxiety and saps us from the joy of now-absorbed existence. We are always late or waiting for something, it seems. This section also delves into reasons God may have for taking time to perfect us and grow us, rather than just zapping us to holiness. Kapic also explains why being part of the church (and not having to do everything within the church) is very important. The book concludes with a chapter on learning to live within our finitude, which is, in part, a reminder of our need to rest.

Discussion

The “always on” nature of our world is inhumane. Kapic recognizes this and he is hoping to help you recognize it, too. Historians like to point out that there is no era that is totally unlike others. They are certainly correct. Political polarizations, violence, abusive systems, and weird and ungodly social fads have existed throughout history. Each age may have its own favorite perversion, but there really is nothing new under the sun. And yet, we all have the sense that we are in a video game with tense music and someone turned the difficulty level to expert. I think that is because we really are trying to do too much that is too hard. That reality helps explain why You’re Only Human is so powerful.

Many people are struggling from burnout. Every moment of a child’s life is often filled with some sort of stimulus: television, playdates, school, quality time with the family. There is no time to sit and be bored. It’s a joke among middle aged parents to say that life is really just saying “maybe next week things will slow down” until you die. This sort of grim humor reveals the truth that we are all tired and stretched thin.

This is bad for us and it is not a good way to grow in godliness. Sanctification takes time. It can’t be programmed into a 20-minute morning blog of prayer and Bible reading, the verse of the day calendar, with a sermon playing during the commute home. Boredom is an important ingredient to sanctification, because it allows us to stop focusing on the things we have to do, or trying to get sufficiently recovered to chase our next challenge, and really consider what it makes to be holy. The problem is we never get bored.

You’re Only Human is a gentle reminder who we are. It is an encouragement that we are not enough for everything, and that is ok. It is a helpful book that points readers toward real solutions. They may be challenging to implement, but they may change the way we live as Christians in the world in a meaningful way.

This book would be a great gift to pastors during the month of October to let them know that it is okay not to be able to do everything. This book would be a powerful help to a recent graduate who is anxious about what is to come and worried about not being enough to rise to the top. This a book that is a balm to the aging saint who realizes what they didn’t do in life and wonders if what they accomplished is really enough. Take up this book and read it. It is good for what ails us in this over-scheduled century.

You're Only Human: How Your Limits Reflect God's Design and Why That's Good News

By Kapic, Kelly M.

Buy on Amazon

Some Recommended Introductions to Christian Ethics

Sometimes the variety and range of options of books makes it difficult to know where to begin in the study of any given topic. Whereas a few years ago we would have had to rely on the personal recommendations of a friend or acquaintance, and what was available in our local library or bookstore, now the entire catalog of human knowledge is, seemingly, open to us at all points. This is really great, if you have a starting place in mind or an existing framework from which to begin. For those simply trying to get a toehold in a new topic, the options can be paralyzing.

This post was written because I have had several people ask me what books I would recommend to begin the study of Christian ethics. The list is based on my own preferences and those that I would recommend to people who are reasonably well-read and who share at least some of my presuppositions about the nature of Scripture and the truthfulness of orthodox Christianity. In other words, I am going to make recommendations that are consistent with an orthodox, evangelical Christianity. There may be significant books on philosophical ethics, Roman Catholic ethics, or some sort of modernistic Christianity that others might see as invaluable. However, my point is to lead people deeper into the mystery of faith in Christ Jesus, not toward the apparent brilliance of writers in another faith. There are many books about particular topics within ethics that are useful, too. I have selected these as introductions, not endpoints.

Mere Christianity, by C. S. Lewis

This in not a textbook on Christian Ethics, per se. However, in his defense of a basic, orthodox Christianity, Lewis writes about ninety pages of his apologetic work—about a quarter of it—on what amounts to Christian Ethics. This is helpful, because it demonstrates the integration of Christian Ethics into the broader theological ideas of Christianity. The way we live is an apologetic and it is a demonstration of what we truly believe. For those new in the faith, Mere Christianity is an excellent place to start when trying to figure out how to live morally.

An Introduction to Biblical Ethics, by David W. Jones

Biblical Ethics is a subset of Christian Ethics, but this is the place that many evangelical Christians would do well to begin. Absent from the book are discussions of the categories of philosophical ethics, because the assumption behind this volume is that the reader believes Scripture to be trustworthy as a source of moral authority. This is a volume that teaches readers to reason well from Scripture to moral application. Jones writes with clarity and grace, with a fine balance between demonstrated research and transparency to make this useful for beginners who are primarily interested in how to read Scripture better. This is lean on particular application to current events, but long on methodology.

Invitation to Christian Ethics, by Ken Magnuson

This 2020 volume is a good, current survey of the field of Christian Ethics from an evangelical perspective. Magnuson introduces various philosophical and theological frameworks for moral reasoning, but the focus is on reasoning well from Scripture. This is a book that is helpful if a reader is trying to figure out why different systems of moral reasoning end up with different ideas. After laying out his basic framework, Magnuson then moves on to discuss various contemporary ethical issues, working through them from a scriptural foundation.

The Doctrine of the Christian Life, by John Frame

Frame’s book is a hefty volume, but it is a solid way to begin an ethical journey. I love John Frame’s approach and have been deeply influenced by it. However, his triperspectivalism is distinct from many other approaches and likely to be less common in future years. I have a deep attachment to DCL and all of Frame’s work, but his approach will retain popularity primarily among conservative Presbyterians in the years to come. At the same time, if a reader is looking for a different approach to complement their understanding of Christian Ethics, Frame provides a deeply theological, Scripture-saturated book written from a Reformed perspective.

Ethics as Worship, by Mark Liederbach and Evan Lenow

This book is a 2021 volume that combines some features that I really like. It is a full introduction to Christian Ethics textbook, with a survey of various philosophical approaches. It is primarily driven by Scripture as the source of morally authoritative guidance for our age. Ethics as Worship includes application to many of the major, contemporary moral issues. All of this puts it in the solidly introductory camp and makes it quite useful. In addition, Liederbach and Lenow also have an explicit focus of living the moral life as an act of worship. This is a subtext in most evangelical ethics texts, but this book makes it overt. I’ve read it once and enjoyed it. I need to read it and use it more to fully evaluate it, but it is a good, useful book that I commend for its faithfulness, readability, and doxological emphasis.

Reformed Ethics, by Herman Bavinck

Volume 2 just released a few months ago. I haven’t finished it. However, volume 1 is clearly a treasure and I anticipate that the final two volume will continue the legacy. Bavinck is one of my favorite theologians. He does ethics from a theological framework in the Reformed tradition. His approach will connect well to Jones, Frame, and, to a reasonable degree, with Liederbach and Lenow. Bavinck is not going to cover contemporary issues, since he wrote a century ago. However, what you see is non-performative reasoning from someone who was grappling with modernity, outside our specific culture, and dealing with the same source text—Scripture—that we are using. His application requires a little translation, but this is helpful. Bavinck’s Reformed Ethics are a good historical approach that can be used to encourage thoughtful application of orthodox theology and scriptural reasoning in our day.

Resurrection and Moral Order: An Outline for Evangelical Ethics, by Oliver O’Donovan

This is the last book on this list for a reason. It is a very difficult book to read, but it is also very important. O’Donovan’s work is essential for a full understanding of what it means to think morally as a gospel-focused, theologically orthodox believer. This is a book that demands slow reading and often repeated reading. It was not until the third time through the book that it made sense to me, but once it ‘clicked’ everything fell into place and it helped unlock a more complete process of moral reasoning through Scripture. This is the Brothers Karamazov of Christian ethics; it is very hard work, but it is very much worth the effort.

This is not an evaluation of all the ethics books on the market. There are certainly others that are good and helpful. This is where I think someone should start as they seek to understand Christian ethics better.

Jesus, the Firstborn of All Creation

Colossians 1:15 tells us that Christ is “the firstborn of all creation.” This is a challenging phrase for some and there continues to be a great deal of confusion over it, even among self-described Bible-believing evangelicals. The problem is more pronounced in a couple of American-made religions, which often rely on excessive literalism in their interpretation. One of the dangers of not understanding Colossians 1:15 rightly is that it allows Christians to be picked off by cults.

Manning the Watchtower for Jehovah’s Witnesses

The Jehovah’s Witnesses, for example, in an official publication argue:

“From [several] Biblical statements [including Col 1:15] it is reasonable to conclude that the Son of God is the firstborn of all creation in the sense of being the first of God’s creatures. . . . There are many who object to the idea of Jesus as being a created person.  They argue that since “in him all things were created” (CB)—during his prehuman existence in heaven—Jesus himself could not be a creature. Such individuals believe that Jesus is himself Almighty God, the second person of a “trinity” of three coequal, coeternal persons in one “godhead. . . . . Since Jesus as the firstborn of all creation is a created person, he cannot be Almighty God.”

Houston, we have a problem.

The argument they posit, based on their commentary on this passage, is that Jesus is “the first creation by Jehovah God. Seven of the eight occurrences of the Greek term for “firstborn” (pro·toʹto·kos) in the Christian Greek Scriptures refer to Jesus. The usual Scriptural meaning of the term “firstborn” is the one born first in order of time, such as a firstborn child.”

But contrary to this assertion, there are a number of times in Scripture that firstborn is not meant literally, but used to refer to the heir who was chosen in place of the chronologically first son.

In Exodus 4:22, God says to Moses:

“Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says the Lord, Israel is my firstborn son”

Israel was once called Jacob. And Jacob was second son who gained the birthright––the status of firstborn. Thus, the firstborn was not literally the first to be born, but the one who was prominent in the family and through whom the line would extend.

Isaac was not Abraham’s firstborn, Ishmael was. But it was Isaac who was the one God chose to be the heir.

In a Messianic prediction in Psalm 89:27, the psalmist writes,

“And I will make him the firstborn, the highest of the kings of the earth.”

That was not about David, who was also not the literal firstborn who became the prominent son by divine action, but about Jesus himself who was the long-expected Messiah.

Mormon Misunderstanding

But the Jehovah’s Witnesses are not alone in their misunderstanding of this passage. The Mormons also believe that Jesus Christ is a created being.

In Joseph Smith’s Bible Dictionary, he notes that,  “Jesus is the firstborn of the Spirit Children of our Heavenly Father.”

Bruce McConkie, who was a theological authority within the LDS religion makes clear that “firstborn” in this sense means chronologically first: “Christ is the Firstborn, meaning that he was the first Spirit Child born to God the Father in pre-existence.”

But lest we let that error pass, let us flip over to the entry in Smith’s Dictionary for “Spirit,” where we read, “Every person is literally a son or a daughter of God, having been born as a spirit to Heavenly Parents previous to being born to mortal parents on the earth.”

There are a number of errors all wrapped up in Mormon theology. They believe that God the father has a physical body and that we have potential of becoming like gods—one might say gods ourself—if we do enough good works. Jesus is not the product of a truly virgin birth, but of a literal union between God the father and Mary who would later become the wife of Joseph. All of that is problematic in addition to their belief that Jesus was a created being.

Beware the leaven of the Mormons. When I was a kid they emphasized their distinction from Christianity because they were the “Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.” But recently they have asked everyone to refer to them as “The Church of Jesus Christ,” and are thus claiming the mantle of true Christianity when they have replaced the true Christ with a semi-divine being of their own choosing.

Theology matters. Biblical interpretation matters. It’s a dangerous world out there and you can ill afford to be ill–informed.

Seeking Clarity

Because biblical interpretation takes work, Colossians 1:15–20 is a passage that has led people on a dark pathway away from truth and an unwillingness to hold two truths at the same time:

(1)          Jesus Christ was fully human.

(2)          Jesus Christ was fully divine.

We need to interpret Scripture with Scripture and hold all the truths of the Bible together at the same time.

That’s why we understand that Jesus is co-equal with the other two persons of the Holy Trinity and there was never a time when he was not. As question 3 of the New City Catechism tells us: “There are three persons in the one true and living God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. They are the same in substance, equal in power and glory.”

The second person of the trinity “became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14), but he has always been God without dilution of his divinity.

Don’t be fooled when the Jehovah Witnesses or Mormon missionaries come knocking at your door. They are not carrying salvation, but deception. There is no question and no negotiation on that fact. There is no common faith between a Christian and either of those groups.

And yet, there are troubled signs within self-described “born again believers” who actually affirm important “Evangelical Beliefs.” A 2018 study by LifeWay Research in partnership with Ligonier Ministries showed that 78% percent of those with “Evangelical Beliefs” Agreed or Strongly Agreed with the statement: “Jesus is the first and greatest being created by God.”

That is a significant theological error, which is not consistent with Scripture.

As the Chalcedonian Definition tells us:

….Our Lord Jesus Christ, the same perfect in Godhead and also perfect in manhood; truly God and truly man, of a reasonable soul and body; consubstantial with us according to the manhood; in all things like unto us, without sin; begotten before all ages of the Father according to the Godhead, and in these latter days, for us and for our salvation, born of the virgin Mary, the mother of God, according to the manhood; one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, Only-begotten, to be acknowledged in two natures, inconfusedly, unchangeably, indivisibly, inseparably; the distinction of natures being by no means taken away by the union, but rather the property of each nature being preserved, and concurring in one Person and one Subsistence, not parted or divided into two persons, but one and the same Son, and only begotten, God the Word, the Lord Jesus Christ, as the prophets from the beginning have declared concerning him, and the Lord Jesus Christ himself taught us, and the Creed of the holy Fathers has handed down to us.

The Chalcedonian Definition is a faithful summary of the teaching of Scripture, handed down for generations, which should serve as a summary of biblical doctrine, as we seek “to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints.” (Jude 3b) As we read Scripture and interpret it, we should look at how the body of Christ has interpreted it in the past.

While that interpretation does not override the actual content of Scripture, it should help form our reading as we communicate with those Spirit-filled believers who have sought to faithfully exegete God’s Word in the past. That will help us avoid being picked off by errant teaching, like that offered by the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Latter Day Saints.

Are Ethics More Important than Theology?

Why do some Christians love theology more than people? After all, from an eternal perspective, people matter more than ideas. It does not matter what you believe as long as you are doing good things in the world. Some people who do not even believe in Jesus are better Jesus-followers than Christians—these people are the real Kingdom of God.

If you read progressive Christian blogs or follow left-leaning Christian pundits on social media, you will have likely heard some of the assertions in the previous paragraph. Some form of them is repeated often enough to be recognizable at a glance.

The basic claim of those who make these claims is that practical Christian ethics is the heart of Christianity, while Christian theology is mere speculation about things that are largely unknown and mostly unknowable. Ethics is reality; theology is speculation. Therefore, ethics is more important than theology.

As a Christian ethicist, I heartily affirm the importance of Christian ethics. However, faithful Christian ethics presupposes a foundation of orthodox Christian doctrine. An authentically Christian ethics is the superstructure on a foundation of an orthodox, biblical theology. We cannot do ethics apart from theology.

In her excellent essay “Creed or Chaos?” Dorothy L. Sayers argues,

It is worse than useless for Christians to talk about the importance of Christian morality unless they are prepared to take their stand upon the fundamentals of Christian theology.

She goes on to explain that Christian morality without a doctrinal foundation quickly becomes humanism, which eventually fails to motivate right action.

Doctrine is the very heart of ethics. Unless you believe the right things, there is little hope that you will do the right things. If someone does not believe that humans have inherent value, they are unlikely seek to relieve their suffering or may justify doing harm while calling it good. Proper concern for the wellbeing of other humans is not self-generated; it arises from an anthropology that values people as made in the image of God. When anthropology fails, so does true compassion for other humans.

For example, movements that advocate for voluntary euthanasia are often couched in terms of individual autonomy and alleviation of suffering. Assisting in the suicide deaths of the old and the infirm is ethical if your anthropology presumes that humans have a right to self-determination and that human suffering is purposeless. A deep theological sentiment lies behind a pro-euthanasia ethic. Ethics springs from a foundation of those doctrines that are believed.

Jesus is clear about belief being the basis for human action. Luke records him explaining the relationship between the act of speech and the beliefs of the heart: “A good man produces good out of the good storeroom of his heart. An evil man produces evil out of the evil storeroom, for his mouth speaks from the overflow of the heart” (Luke 6:45, HCSB). Bad beliefs will lead to bad character, which will lead to bad actions.

Those who seek to affirm ethics over theology are wrong to diminish the importance of doctrine. However, a fairer critique could, at times, be that theologically sound Christians sometimes fail to live out the ethics that are demanded by their theology. Such was Carl F. H. Henry’s criticism of early evangelicalism.

The core theme of Henry’s brief volume The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism is that doctrinally orthodox evangelicals (i.e., those who held to the fundamentals of the faith) often fell into the trap of repudiating social ethics simply because social activism was associated with modernist, theologically liberal Christians. This led faithful and theologically sound Christians to reject just action to mitigate harms, though those actions would have occurred in ways that were consistent with and even demanded by a doctrine faithful to Scripture. Such failures, Henry argued, caused early evangelicals to have an uneasy conscience.

Henry’s indictment of his own theological tribe should come as no surprise, since Jesus’ words about the overflow of the heart are followed immediately by a sharp rebuke of those who have a proper faith, but fail to act on it (Luke 6:46-49). Or, in perhaps the most misunderstood verse in Scripture, James 2:14-17 reminds Christians that faith that does not lead to ethical application is dead.

The problem in these situations is not that people were concerned about right doctrine, but that they failed to act upon it. Perhaps they understood the theological propositions, but did not have a living faith to drive them to live the ethical implications of those doctrines. These critiques are reasonable. However, the assertion that doctrine is unimportant is untenable.

The assertion “ethics matters but doctrine does not” requires a presumption that theology is abstract while action is concrete. Nothing could be further from the truth. Ethics is abstract to the extent that even our good actions are tainted by sinful motivations and have unknown consequences. Theology—the study of God and his works—is concrete inasmuch as its object is known and knowable. Orthodox doctrines are not arbitrary constructions that satisfy the desire for completeness and intellectual attainment of theologians and exegetes. Most theology is done in the crucible of real-life concerns in an attempt to discern what is right and godly, which is the only possible foundation for a Christian ethics. Again, Sayers is helpful as she describes the formulation of doctrine:

Dogmas are not a set of arbitrary regulations invented a priori by a committee of theologians enjoying a bout of all-in dialectical wrestling. Most of them were hammered out under pressure of urgent practical necessity to provide an answer to heresy.

This is no less true about the doctrines that undergird human sexual ethics than it is about teachings that deal with Christology. The church has often had to specifically codify previously assumed or unconsidered doctrines in the face of innovative challenges that threaten to undermine the doctrinal core of Christianity. This does not represent a failure to love the people who hold faulty doctrine: it is a sign of faithfulness to the one who calls Christians to love people. Paul’s admonishment is to speak truth in love, not to reject truth in the name of love (cf. Eph. 4:15).

Christians would do well to live out their faith. They would also do well to ponder Jude’s words to the church, which include a call to contend for the faith—the sound doctrine—that was given to the saints because those who rejected those teachings led others to practice bad ethics (Jude 3-4). Christianity is not merely about right doctrine, but orthodoxy cannot be rejected without a grave cost to ethics.

NOTE: This article was previously posted at the B&H Academic Blog, which has since been archived due to a change in media strategy.

Reading Buechner - A Review

Frederick Buechner (spoken: Beak-ner) can be a tough nut to crack. He’s too conservative to be liberal and too liberal to be conservative. He communicates deep truths about God in powerful ways at times, and he writes in beautiful prose that helps exalt the writing of those who read him.

My first encounter with Buechner was his novel Godric, which is a fictionalized biography of a historical saint of the Roman Catholic Church. The prose is poetic, the imagery sometimes earthy, and the subject timeless. The story of a saint who was so wracked with guilt, but so venerated by the fictional biographer seeking to lionize him, makes for an interesting study of God’s grace, humility, and the nature of heroes. As it turns out, this was a good place to start, but I arrived at that starting point by accident.

Jeffrey Munroe has recently published a volume with IVP Academic, Reading Buechner: Exploring the Work of a Master Memoirist, Novelist, Theologian, and Preacher. This is the sort of book that offers a roadmap to a city filled with marvelous attractions. The book is not encyclopedic, but it introduces the reader to the various genres in which Buechner wrote: memoir, novel, theological text, and sermon.

When we read Buechner, we are reading someone who has encountered the God of the Bible and has experienced the beauty of his presence. At points the keen emotions of Buechner’s experience of God comes through even his fiction as he portrays godly sorrow over sin, a deep sense of humility, and the longing for the true, good, and beautiful. Though Buechner handles the text more as a novelist than an exegete, there are times when his flourishes on the meaning of the text help contextualize the biblical narrative in a way that helps the reader step inside the text. When Buechner writes his theology, it is a faith-filled, but provocative theology. Buechner will not always land where a conservative Christian lands, but unlike many progressive Christians, his theology is a theology of faith. Like Wendell Berry, Christians of all stripes can find thoughtful reading, even if we do not agree with the final analysis.

Reading Buechner consists of eleven chapters plus an introduction. Makoto Fukimura, an artist who is a vocal promoter of “care culture” wrote a lovely foreword. The main content of the volume is divided into four parts. Part One includes four chapters on Buechner’s memoirs. Munroe sets the four volumes in context, explaining how the story of Buechner’s life evolved over the four books, why certain details were included in later but not earlier books, and the way that some of Buechner’s early experience appear to shape his telling of his own life.

Part Two delves into two of Buechner’s novels. First is Godric, which is said to be Buechner’s best work. The second is The Son of Laughter, another of Buechner’s best works. Munroe deals with some of Buechner’s other novels throughout these two chapters, but Reading Buechner is an introduction that points the reader to the place to start to get the sense of Buechner’s work before going into many of the other works. In Part Three, Munroe shifts to an exploration of Buechner’s theology. Here it becomes apparent why Buechner can be so helpful: His theology was largely written to help non-Christians, especially skeptics and Christians disaffected by the clinical theology that often comes from the pens of scholars. Buechner’s theology takes his audience seriously and God seriously, but he does not take himself particularly seriously. He is, imperfectly, attempting to do what Lewis and Sayers recommend in translating theology into the vernacular.

In Part Four we get two chapters on Buechner’s preaching. His sermons are not strictly textual, though Buechner does include discussion of texts in faithful terms, but they are masterpieces in rhetoric and expression. The chief benefit of reading Buechner’s sermons is not as a foundation for a young preacher to build his sermonic style, but as illustrations of the power of language that should be a more regular consideration for preachers of all stripes. Munroe is careful to point out, as well, that though Buechner is ordained, he is not a regular member of a congregation, which should flavor our reading of his preaching. These are occasional sermons, not samples of the weekly grind most pastors endure, and are written as an informed outsider, not someone deeply embedded in the work of the body of Christ. The book concludes with a chapter that calls us to read Buechner for the joy that bubbles up from deep beneath the surface. Munroe then adds a personal epilogue about his limited personal relationship with Buechner. Invaluably, at the end of the volume, we get an annotated bibliography of Buechner’s work.

Munroe’s book reads well. It is informative, concise, and clear. Though it is not comprehensive, this is the sort of survey that can provide and entry point into an important writer who is off the beaten path for many Christians. Munroe is correct that more Christians should read Buechner, especially those who wrestle with words and those who are trying to translate Christian doctrine to an unbelieving world. Buechner’s imaginative language is helpful and exemplary. Also, as Munroe reminds readers repeatedly, Buechner came to faith voluntarily and later in life, which helps explain the authenticity of his faith, despite patches of non-conformity with orthodoxy. Buechner is thus not a lode star for faithful Christianity, but a companion along the way. Munroe’s book helps illustrate this. Additionally, those new to Buechner or those who have read some should appreciate the work done in Reading Buechner to provide entry points and context that will make reading Buechner a more rewarding experience.

Reading Buechner: Exploring the Work of a Master Memoirist, Novelist, Theologian, and Preacher

By Munroe, Jeffrey

Buy on Amazon

NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this work from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.

Should Southern Baptists Use Creeds?

The Southern Baptist Convention is a confessional network of autonomous local congregations who have generally clustered around mutual affirmation of the Baptist Faith and Message 2000 as a minimum statement of theological belief that permits cooperation, though there are churches that are in cooperation with the SBC (based on CP giving) that do not affirm the BF&M 2000. Many Southern Baptists are clear that they see the Baptist Faith and Message as a confession, which loosely binds, rather than a creed, that more clearly delineates and binds. Thus, affirmation of the BF&M is not required for churches or pastors to affiliate with the SBC.

The BF&M is a helpful document for this particular moment, because it defines the currently debated boundaries of SBC cooperation. It has limitations in two directions: (1) It largely assumes the earlier theological formulations that define orthodoxy, and which are outlined in the ecumenical creeds and other official products of ecumenical councils. (2) Language changes, which means that certain phrases can be filled with new meaning or disputed in their meaning, so that future clarification will be warranted. In other words, there will come a time that the BF&M will need to be revised to ensure it properly delineates the doctrinal categories of the SBC of that present moment.

One way that we can lengthen the time between needed revisions to the BF&M is to do more work in teaching orthodox doctrine through historical formulations, particularly building on the ecumenical creeds.

The use of creeds in worship gatherings and teaching ministries in SBC churches rubs some members the wrong way. Earlier generations, in particular, have built their identity on being “confessional” not “credal” due to the concept of individual soul liberty. There is value in that objection, but I believe that there is warrant to increase our use of creeds in our congregations without diminishing the role of the conscience in arriving at conclusions through careful of study of Scripture.

Within the context of learning and teaching theology, the creeds that were affirmed by the ecumenical councils are faithful summaries of the Christian faith. They do not supplant the careful study of Scripture, but they certainly provide guardrails that can help keep us from drifting into error. As I understand them, the creeds are some of the ways that we connect to the tradition of faithful Christians and prevent our own culture’s assumptions from overrunning the message of Scripture. This makes them invaluable in this time when information from unlimited sources threatens to overrun our churches.

Basis for Didactic Use of Creeds

The presence and use of creeds within SBC life is growing. In my opinion, that is generally a good thing for at least four reasons.

First, recognizing faithful affirmation of statements of faith (like creeds and confessions) as basics of Christian belief connects us to our Baptist heritage.

As Chuck Kelley, Richard Land, and Albert Mohler wrote in the introduction to the LifeWay study on the Baptist Faith and Message in 2007,

“Baptist churches and associations of churches have adopted statements of belief to teach, defend, and perpetuate the faith ‘that was delivered to the saints once for all’ (Jude 3). These statements, most commonly known as confessions of faith, are intended to clarify and publish the most basic beliefs that frame our faith, our witness, and our worship. In the beginning years of the organized Baptist movement, these statements were often intended to demonstrate that Baptists were fully orthodox as Christian believers. Later, such statements were used to establish identity, confront false teaching, and instruct Christians in the faith.” (The Baptist Faith and Message, 5)

Southern Baptists hold the BF&M to be a document that frames our corporate identity, but as noted, that identity is also within the orthodox tradition. The orthodox tradition has been defined, historically, as including acceptance of (though not dogmatically so) the historical creeds of the church. And, though we tend to describe our confession as a voluntary document, that has not been entirely consistent with the Baptist tradition broadly, or the Southern Baptist tradition more narrowly.

As Chute, Finn, and Haykin (all historians and professors in and from an SBC context) note:

“For at least the past century, some Baptists have adopted a negative posture toward confessions. They suggest that any prescriptive use of confession is ‘creedalism,’ or the elevation of a merely human standard above Scripture and an infringement on individual liberty of conscience. While this view is popular in some circles, it reflects a misunderstanding of Baptist history. As Timothy George argues, ‘The idea that voluntary conscientious adherence to an explicit doctrinal standard is somehow foreign to the Baptist tradition is a peculiar notion not borne out by careful examination of our heritage.’” (The Baptist Story, 327)

By affirming the BF&M 2000 as the defining confession of our cooperative network of churches, we are essentially treating it as a creed. As B. H. Carrol asserts: “There was never a man in the world without a creed. A creed is what you believe. What is a confession? It is a declaration of what you believe.”

In practice, the BF&M 2000 functions as a creed. It is minimalistic (e.g., it holds open diverse eschatological possibilities, multiple arrangements of church government, and a host of other secondary and tertiary documents). However, it is sufficient for a significant body of baptistic Christians to gather around and cooperate within without excessively binding the conscience of anyone.

In the spirit of the Reformational principal, sola Scriptura, we hold Scripture as the final authority over all faith and practice over the BF&M or any other human declaration. (If the BF&M is the frame of our beliefs, Scripture provides the portrait that the frame outlines.) This practice is consistent with the declaration on the SBC’s webpage that we are “all within the framework of historic biblical orthodoxy,” which statement seems to presume some non-scriptural standard outside of the BF&M that we can be judged by. That is to say, the BF&M necessarily assumes a broader stream of orthodoxy of which the SBC is a part. Using historical creeds like the Nicene Creed supports the BF&M rather than denigrates it by putting it in its context.

Second, evangelical churches (broadly defined) are bleeding young people that are searching for a faith that is rooted deeply in the past. I have seen multiple young Baptists drift into Roman Catholicism because they feel it has deeper roots in history. This is a practical concern, but one that has a theological solution.

While mistaken in their belief that the Roman Catholics are the real church with the deeper tradition, the impetus of those leaving Baptist churches and other evangelical churches is logical as we anticipate the growing cultural storm. In light of growing pressure to affirm counter-scriptural trends in culture, using a statement of faith adopted in the year 2000 is a much less robust shield than in a faith that is described as rooted in the confession of a man who knew Jesus in 33 AD. Churches serve their people well when they help them

Based on this reasoning, I use the historical creeds of the church to teach my children and I share them with Christians in Baptist churches because it connects us to the great cloud of witness that has gone before us. When I read the Apostle’s creed, I am reading the confession that Augustine affirmed, as have millions of faithful Christians in the interim. When I recite the creed, I am joining in a doxological practice that missionaries, martyrs, and ministers have shared for generations.

There is strength in the continuity we can share with those that have come before us. The creeds help us to understand that continuity. Given the ravages of the ecumenical movement of the mid-20th century, I understand reservations toward that sort of universal confession, but I believe it will be important in the coming years. The Nicene Creed is not enough, because it doesn’t take into account theological errors raised since it was authored, which is why the BF&M 2000 is an important document. Connecting people to the historic creeds is a way of showing theological continuity of our present confession with the ancient faith that we believe we are properly representing.

Third, the development of the creeds helps us understand the boundaries of Christian orthodoxy. Within the church, pastors and other leaders should be teaching the basis of our doctrinal belief, because it is vitally important to building a robust doctrinal foundation in a post-modern world.

As Dorothy L. Sayers wrote, with characteristic wit,

“Teacher and preachers never, I think, make it sufficiently clear that dogmas are not a set of arbitrary regulations invented a priori by a committee of theologians enjoying a bout of all-in dialectical wrestling. Most of them were hammered out under pressure of urgent practical necessity to provide an answer to heresy. And heresy is, as I have tried to show, largely the expression of opinion of the untutored average man, trying to grapple with the problems of the universe, trying to grapple with the problems of the universe at the point where they begin to interfere with daily life and thought.” (“Creed or Chaos,” in The Whimsical Christian, 41)

I think Sayers is right. Especially as an ethicist, I believe that we have to understand doctrine in light of the context in which it was expressed (not invented). By rooting our faith, which is founded on Scripture, in the Christian tradition through its connection with the historic creeds, we combat the error that Sayers identified in the 1940s in the rapidly secularizing British culture. To build an ethics that will weather the storms of this life and a faith that will not be carried away, we need to show people that our contemporary orthodoxy is a historical orthodoxy, which was drawn from Scripture in light of particular theological errors that continue to resurface.

Exposing people to ancient creeds that connect faith today to the doctrines delineated more than a millennia ago strengthens the faith of contemporary saints, even as it helps rule out of bounds some doctrinal innovations being promoted by ignorant and malicious teachers in our age. People need to know what good looks like to be able to recognize and avoid bad theology.

Fourth, studying and making people aware of the historical Christian creeds helps prevent the error of believing we can have “no creed but the Bible.”

I am sympathetic to those who try to live by the “no creed but the Bible” statement, but the good intent behind it can lead to significant error because it assumes that we can, without falling into error, read Scripture rightly. For example, “no creed but the Bible” is the essential belief of the Campbellite movement, which has led to their affirmation (in many cases) of baptismal regeneration. When diced in a particular way, Scripture can be seen to support that doctrine, though I believe it to be clearly inconsistent with the holistic message of Scripture.

I affirm the sufficiency, authority, and perspicuity of Scripture. At the same time, I also recognize that there are patterns of thought endemic to my age that will tend to lead to into particular errors. Exposing people to historic creeds helps guard against the blindness of our own age.

As C. S. Lewis wrote in his introduction to Athanasius’s On the Incarnation:

“Most of all, perhaps, we need intimate knowledge of the past. Not that the past has any magic about it, but because we cannot study the future, and yet need something to set against the present, to remind us that the basic assumptions have been quite different in different periods and that much which seems certain to the educated is merely temporary fashion. A man who has lived in many places is not likely to be deceived by the local errors of his native village: the scholar has lived in many times and is therefore in some degree immune from the great cataract of nonsense that pours from the press and the microphone of his own age.”

Church History in general and the creeds specifically are helpful in preventing us from falling into errors of our own age. Lewis is overly optimistic in believing that we won't fall into the opposite error of unquestioningly believing ancient sources, but his point that evaluating our understanding in light of historic thinkers, particularly when we are dealing with timeless truths, is right on the mark.

There are, I am sure, other reasons that I could list for utilizing the creeds as we study Christian doctrine, but these four provide a solid framework. I am hopeful that the creeds that have bounded orthodoxy for generations continue to grow in their use. It will link together faithful believers across traditions and bolster the faith of the members of our congregations trying to stand firm in our cultural moment.

Boredom and Heresy

One the central questions at the heart of debates over modern theological liberal Christianity and orthodox Christianity is the definition of the term Christian. The wide variance between the definitions tends to confound dialog because liberals (I will consistently use this term theologically, in a descriptive sense) have a radically different understanding of the word’s meaning than do orthodox believers.

There were, of course, points in the historic Christian faith at which boundary lines were drawn based on ongoing debates. Those early moments resulted in our statements of orthodoxy, such as the Nicene Creed, which contains the kernel (though not the totality) of orthodoxy.

These creedal statements that define Christian orthodoxy were often surrounded by heated debates as leaders and theologians parsed through Scripture with a critical mind. This has led some to conclude that they were arbitrary statements and that some sort of arbitrary (likely political) power was the determining factor in setting the boundaries of orthodoxy. That, of course, fuels much of contemporary theological revisionism, because Christian doctrine shifts from the faith once and for all delivered to the saints (Jude 3) to oppressive imposition of the ideas of a bunch of patriarchal dead guys.

In this case, I tend to agree with Dorothy L. Sayers, the modern mystery writer and a significant mind of the first half of the 20th century. In her essay, “Creed or Chaos?,” she writes,

“Teachers and preachers never, I think, make it sufficiently clear that dogmas are not a set of arbitrary regulations invented a priori by a committee of theologians enjoying a bout of all-in dialectical wrestling. Most of them were hammered out under pressure of urgent practical necessity to provide an answer to heresy.”

Compare Sayers’s perspective with that of the so-called father of the social gospel, Walter Rauschenbusch, who argues in his book, A Theology for the Social Gospel,

“The dogmas and theological ideas of the early Church were those ideas which at that time were needed to hold the Church together, to rally its forces, and to give it victorious energy against antagonist powers. To-day many of those ideas are without present significance. Our reverence for them is a kind of ancestor worship.”

There is certainly some similarity between the two. Both Sayers and Rauschenbusch recognize that there was often drama when the doctrines of orthodoxy were outlined and that resolution was needed for cohesion. The difference comes in that Rauschenbusch has very little respect for the formulations arrived at by the councils, whereas Sayers understands them to have been largely successful at arriving at an expression of the truth. Thus, Sayers regularly called believers back to orthodox Christian belief, while Rauschenbusch associated doctrinal orthodoxy with a form of “ancestor worship.” Rauschenbusch is  spiritual father of John Shelby Spong, who argued that Christianity must change or die.

Beneath this discussion is a radically different perspective on the ability of lay-people to grasp Christian doctrine. Both Rauschenbusch and Sayers recognize that many Christians are relatively uninformed about Christian doctrines, which results in doctrinal deviations.

According to Rauschenbusch, “When people have to be indoctrinated laboriously in order to understand theology at all, it becomes a dead burden.” This is a dubious statement, but it shapes the trajectory of Rauschenbusch’s attack on Christian orthodoxy.

This comes several pages after his assertion that,

“[The business of theology] is to make the essential facts and principles of Christianity so simple and clear, so adequate and mighty, that all who preach or teach the gospel, both ministers and laymen, can draw on its stores and deliver a complete and unclouded Christian message.”

The second statement is actually quite helpful. Theology certainly should be clear and simple as much as possible, but to eliminate teaching doctrine as a function of the church because some doctrines are complicated seems counter intuitive.

There is an implicit assault on the intelligence of laypeople in Rauschenbusch’s theology. He assumes that people are simply too intellectually dull to understand Christian doctrine. As a result, he argues, “If we seek to keep Christian doctrine unchanged, we shall ensure its abandonment.”

Rauschenbusch decided he would like to avoid the abandonment of Christian doctrine by changing it. I suppose that is one way of cutting out the middleman. No need to make the laypeople leave doctrine, when you can simply eliminate all the inconvenient parts that matter. This is a way of dumbing down the faith because you don’t think people are smart enough to understand doctrine.

Sayers, however, has a much more positive view of laypeople. She, too, recognizes that many laypeople are ignorant of Christian doctrines, but that is not entirely their fault.

She writes,

“It is not true at all that dogma is hopelessly irrelevant to the life and thought of the average man. What is true is that ministers of the Christian religion often assert that it is, present it for consideration is though it were, and, in fact, by their faulty exposition of it make it so.”

This is exactly what Rauschenbusch does and he encourages others to do the same.

Again, Sayers rejects the need to modify Christianity to make it relevant,

“If the average man is going to be interested in Christ at all, it is the dogma that will provide the interest. The trouble is that, in nine cases out of ten, he has never been offered the dogma. What he has been offered is a set of technical theological terms that nobody has taken the trouble to translate into language relevant to ordinary life.”

The Christian Mind of C. S. Lewis: Essays in Honor of Michael Travers

Wipf and Stock

Buy on Amazon

The Christian mind is shaped by the wonder of God’s goodness and the nature of the world he has made. One of the central elements of the Christian mind is an interest in those things outside of ourselves. Sayers understands the Christian mind, while Rauschenbusch did not.

Rauschenbusch’s assumption was that his disinterest in orthodox Christian doctrine and inability explain it to others did not subvert the value of it. The wonder and mystery of a wholly other God whose existence and work are unlike our daily experience makes Christianity so much more relevant and exciting.

Sayers gets at the heart of the problem: ignorance and lazy teaching. Laypeople are not stupid; they have often simply never had teachers who took the time to explain Christian doctrine in terms that they understood. Teaching is a bridging strategy to make truth plain.

Instead of creating heresy as we give way to boredom, faithful Christian teachers need to explain the most exciting story that ever was: Christianity. That story is carried by the doctrines that modernists think people too bored, lazy, or stupid to understand.

The role of theologians and pastors is not to reshape Christianity into something that we find interesting, but to uncover the exciting truths within orthodox Christian theology. Once that happens, based on my experience, the doctrine sells itself.

Theological Retrieval for Evangelicals - A Review

There have been several recent volumes published by Evangelicals on the use of historical theology within the Evangelical tradition. This comes at a time when there is a non-trivial movement of younger Evangelicals toward more “historically rooted” traditions. Examples such as Kenneth Stewart’s volume, In Search of Ancient Roots, and books like Christopher Hall’s, Living Wisely with the Church Fathers, come to mind.

According to some critics, Protestant theology has roots that reach no further back than 1517. They argue that some aspects of Evangelical theology are an even more recent innovation. This perception has been augmented by the prevalence of recency in contemporary Evangelical theologies.

Significantly contributing to the apparent recency of Evangelical theology are standard works in the field, like Wayne Grudem’s Systematic Theology, which makes almost no reference to historical theology and required a companion volume by another author to gain a sense of the historical arc of the doctrines Grudem advocates.

The relationship between contemporary Evangelical theology and church history is the strong dependence among evangelicals and the supreme authority of Scripture over historical doctrinal formulations. Given the variegation of theology across history, arriving at a theological method that takes voices of previous ages seriously without ascribing too much authority to them has been difficult.

Gavin Ortlund’s book, Theological Retrieval for Evangelicals: Why We Need Our Past to Have a Future is a helpful book in carving out a theological method that values Scripture supremely, but also listens to the voices of the Christian past.

Summary

The book is divided into two parts. The first part, a manifesto for theological retrieval, has three chapters that advocate for including careful research into historical theology as a path forward for contemporary Christians. Ortlund first asks whether Evangelicals can use Patristic and Medieval theology. Then he argues that we need to engage in theological retrieval through the use of historical theology. Finally, he outlines some of the pros and cons of theological retrieval. This is a balanced perspective that demonstrates there is certainly a wrong way to study and use the early church, but that we cannot afford not to do so if we are to remain faithful to the faith once and for all delivered to the saints (Jude 3).

In part two, Ortlund offers four case studies in theological retrieval. First, he examines the use of theological metaphor in the writings of Boethius, Calvin, and Torrance. This would be an interesting essay in its own right as Ortlund wrestles with the creation/creator distinction, but it makes a solid case study because it reveals how engaging with minds across time can be fruitful. The next case study reaches further back into a discussion of divine simplicity through medieval and patristic theology. In the third case study, Ortlund looks at a balance between models of the atonement. Here he does good work in showing that while substitution is central, necessary, and historically embedded, it does not exclude other ways of understanding Christ’s work on the cross. Here, one of the sharpest debates between theological progressives and orthodox Christians is clarified by reading those who argued about the topic centuries before. The final case study shows some of the practical and devotional benefits of reading theology from deep in Christian history as Ortlund mines wisdom from Gregory the Great on being an effective pastor in a world with many demands.

Analysis and Conclusion

One of the more engaging aspects of this book is the way that Ortlund utilizes the ideas of both C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien to frame some of his discussions. Those familiar with the work of those two Inklings will quickly recognize how deeply embedded in the historic Christian faith they both were. As they exemplified the Christian mind through their writings, they were both drawing extensively on a wide range of patristic and medieval sources. In Theological Retrieval for Evangelicals, Ortlund shows how their imaginative portrayals of deep, historical theological truths can enrich our Christian experience. This is by no means the central thrust of the book, but it is a sub-plot that enriches the volume significantly and gives it a pastoral bent.

For those Evangelicals engaged in theological discourse, this volume provides a solid starting place for faithfully retrieving the doctrinal truths discussed in earlier ages. It does so without losing the unique gospel-focus and bibliocentricity of Evangelical theology.

This book should be included in courses on theological method. It can be a resource for pastors seeking to deepen their faith and help young Evangelicals looking for rootedness to mine the riches of the Christian faith.

This book alone does not answer the challenge of recency that many Roman Catholics and high church Protestants levy against Baptists and other free church Christians, but it does provide a way for a conversation to begin through research, preaching, and teaching that will result in a robust, organic response to those challenges.

Theological Retrieval for Evangelicals: Why We Need Our Past to Have a Future

By Gavin Ortlund

Buy on Amazon

Some Thoughts on Christian Ethics

As an ethicist, I often get asked whether something is good or bad, praiseworthy or blameworthy. It is more common for me to be able to answer a clear “no” than for an absolute “yes.” In fact, many times my response is a very robust, “It depends.”

Whether something is morally praiseworthy depends on more than the act itself. It also depends on the circumstances and the reason for the action, at least. Processing moral events in our lives through three particular considerations is the start of the ethical decision-making process. We need consider at least the action, the circumstance, and the reason behind it.

Triperspectival Ethics

I believe that some version of a triperspectival approach to ethics is the most helpful. The most prominent advocate for triperpectival ethics is John Frame, but the foundations of the system are built on a much earlier theological tradition.

The Heidelberg Catechism, asks this pertinent question in question 91:

Q. What are good works?

A. Only those which are done out of true faith, conform to God’s law, and are done for God’s glory; and not those based on our own opinion or human tradition.

There are three basic elements to this: (1) done out of true faith, (2) conforming to God’s law, and (3) done for God’s glory. For each action we need to consider the action itself, our reason for doing it, and the circumstances in which we do it. For example, eating shellfish is morally permissible, since Christ declared all food clean. However, if you believe you are sinning by eating shellfish because you misunderstand the law, then by violating your conscience you are sinning; your attitude is set against God. Or, if you eat shellfish in the knowledge that it is morally permissible to eat, but you do it to show how spiritual you are or simply out of gluttonous motivations, then you have stepped into sin.

All moral acts have at least these three components: (1) the action, (2) the circumstance, and (3) the reason. The first question to ask is whether the action is morally permissible. If Scripture puts it out of bounds, then it is sin to voluntarily perform the action. This is a fairly simple process, typically, but not always.

The second question is whether the circumstances support that act being just. So, for example, if I kill someone out of self-defense, Scripture makes clear that is not sin. However, if I kill an innocent person, then the same physical act becomes sin. Or, as another example, sex is a morally permissible action, but only with my spouse in the bounds of marriage. Who I am and what the situation is makes a difference as to whether something is morally permissible.

The third question is whether the motive is correct. If I kill someone in what appears to be self-defense, but I’ve really wanted to kill him for years or at that moment I hated him because of whatever he did, then that would be sin. If a couple has sex within the bounds of marriage but the man’s mind is solely on his own satisfaction and not on the glory of God and the good of his wife, then that sexual act became sin for him.

Nearly everything we do is tainted by the reason or motive for which we do it. That is the power of sin in this world and our lives. Repentance and prayer must be an ongoing process, because even serving in the church nursery or preaching a sermon quickly become tainted by our sinful motivations. Thank God for the cross.

A Case Study

For those still concerned that triperspectivalism is a form of moral relativism, I assure you it is not. However, I will offer a more complete example to illustrate the process.

If a hardworking janitor at the local hospital dresses in scrubs, goes into the maternity ward, and delivers a baby, we would consider that a morally impermissible event. Most of us would nod our heads in agreement if we saw the headline, “Hospital Janitor Gets 25 Years Baby Delivery.” That janitor is not the appropriate individual to perform the function of the doctor.

However, if we simply change the situation a little, the expert cleaner goes from criminal to hero. Consider the alternative situation where the same janitor helps a woman deliver her baby on a remote stretch of highway when her car had broken down. The action was the same, the individuals were the same, but the circumstances changed the situation radically. What would have been deemed a criminal action in the hospital is a heroic action for that janitor when there is no doctor available.

These are the two layers that the law and human society can consider. The action and the circumstances are the only things that we can measure and judge. However, God’s judgment goes a layer deeper, which further enhances Christian ethics.

To be a praiseworthy action, the action must be in accordance with God’s law, supported by the circumstances, and done with the appropriate motivation. If the heroic janitor delivered the baby on the side of the road for his own glory, with a view to getting into the newspapers, then that is a societally beneficial action, but it becomes sin in the eyes of God.

The Pervasiveness of Sin

Moral relativism tends to minimize sin by arguing that circumstances make an otherwise impermissible action permissible. Thus, some argue that killing a human is sin, but there may be circumstances (e.g., self-defense) in which it is permissible. Triperspectivalism takes the opposite approach. It argues that there are many events which may be morally permissible, but that other factors may make them morally impermissible.

Killing a human is not sin in and of itself, otherwise God would be liable to the charge of sin, because there are unquestionable examples of God ending the life of a human in Scripture. However, killing an innocent human is a sin. Thus, murder is prohibited, while being a combatant is not. And yet, simply donning a uniform is not enough to make killing an enemy combatant morally praiseworthy. If a soldier kills for the joy of it (i.e., selfish pleasure) or out of pure hatred, then that event has become sinful and must be repented of. We must consider the action, the circumstances, and the motivation.

Similarly, sexual intercourse is not inherently sinful. Intercourse outside the bounds of natural marriage is not necessarily sinful either, since the victim of rape is not responsible for the action being perpetrated on his or her body. However, willing sexual intercourse outside the bounds of natural marriage is sinful because the circumstances violate the norms of God. And yet sex within the bounds of natural marriage is not necessarily without sin. Even with the correct action and circumstances, if the event occurs out of selfishness (e.g., a concern only for one’s pleasure), then it is morally impermissible and therefore sinful.

The reality is that most of what we do is tainted by sin. Even serving in the church nursery or preaching a sermon is often done with, at best, mixed motives. Our hearts are idol factories. We often do “good deeds” as much to get noticed or receive thanks as to honor Christ. The God of the universe is a jealous God, he will not share his glory with his creatures (Is. 42:8).

Total depravity is real. Sin taints every aspect of human existence. Aside from our blatant violations of God’s laws, our motives are likely never pure. This enhances the miracle of grace. We must continually repent of our sin and strive to serve faithfully, but ultimately any praiseworthiness of our actions is due to God’s undeserved grace toward us. Much like a child bringing a shaky drawing to a father, our actions are little more than colorful scribbles. Yet, out of love for us as adopted children, he takes messy works done imperfectly from a heart of faith, sees them as good in Christ, and puts them on the refrigerator. This is why Hebrews 11 extols imperfect people who did imperfect things for doing them through faith.

Ultimately, we are incapable of doing good outside of the working of the Holy Spirit in us. Our worthiness is not based on doing good works (though we should strive to do them), because to do so might lead us to believe we should get to heaven. We can’t do truly good works anyway, because of our sin. However, God has called us to live faithfully and to strive to be holy, just like him. That command leads us to reject obviously sinful actions and circumstances and to pursue actions that do not violate clear revelation of Scripture. At the same time, we must recognize that on our best days we are but sinners whose only hope is the substitutionary death of Christ.

Conclusion

Christian ethics is far from a simplistic set of cases where going to movies is bad, but reading the Bible is good. Both are likely to be tainted by sin. The truth is that we are much worse that we like to believe we are. Our sinful actions and attitudes should continually cause us to repent, turn back toward God, and place our hope in Christ for forgiveness of our sin.

Christian ethics should never lead us to be triumphalistic––that is, to look down on others who commit obvious, public sin––but should push us toward repentance. The judgment on those of us who are redeemed, who have been given the Holy Spirit, and yet who continue to be selfish would be much greater than those without that gift, were it not for the cross.