The Way of Jesus: Social Ethics in Padilla's Christological Conception of Missiology

Last Wednesday I outlined several reasons I believe studying global Christian theology is important. Here's an attempt by me to "engage globally."

THE WAY OF JESUS: SOCIAL ETHICS IN PADILLA’S CHRISTOLOGICAL CONCEPTION OF MISSIOLOGY

Introduction
The history of Christianity in Latin America, along with the historical and social contexts in which it developed, has given rise to the need for both reassessment and further development of Christian theology among Latin American Christians. The early Christianization of Latin America and later Protestant influence were generally unmindful of Latin American concerns and tended to promote a focus upon Christian theology that was specifically developed to address Western concerns. As Latin Americans have become aware of this, many have undertaken the theological task for the purpose of developing Christian theology to address their specific concerns. One such theologian is C. René Padilla. Padilla is an evangelical scholar from Ecuador who was educated at Wheaton College Graduate School.[1] He then went on to do his Ph.D. at the University of Manchester where he did his dissertation under F. F. Bruce.[2], [3] Concerned with sociological and economical issues in Latin America and dissatisfied with liberation theology, Padilla has sought to develop an evangelical theology regarding these issues.[4] In his efforts to address missiological concerns and in response to Docetic tendencies among Latin American Christians, Padilla has developed a theology of missions grounded in the example of Jesus.[5] This essay will seek to investigate the development of Padilla’s Christological conception in missiology through an examination of both the historical and social contexts, and Padilla’s theological influences and methodology. The essay will conclude with an evaluation in which Padilla’s theological contribution will be assessed and some an unanswered questions will be raised.

The Historical and Social Context of Latin American Christology
The Christianization of Latin America began with the arrival of the first Spaniards in the late fifteenth century. As Christopher Columbus sailed west seeking a shorter route to India, he came with the agenda of spreading Catholic Christianity and European culture to the people they were to encounter.[6] This not only included religious beliefs and practice, but an agenda of colonialization, along with all of the social, political, and economic ramifications that were entailed in the establishment of Spanish colonies. The result of this undertaking was the colonialization and a syncretistic blend of Spanish Catholicism with the tribal religions to which the indigenous peoples held.[7]

It is important to note that with colonialism came significant exploitation. Land was seized by colonialists and the native peoples were subjected to forced labor under the hands of oppressors. It is significant that this endeavor of colonization was supported by the papacy who sought to establish Catholicism and perpetuate Catholic interests along with the interests of the Spanish monarchy.

Over the coming centuries, Latin America underwent a multitude of changes. Around the time of the French Revolution (1789-1794), there came a move for ecclesiastical independence. Many church leaders, perhaps fueled by a desire power and encouraged by the French and American revolutions, aligned to gain independence from the papacy.[8]

In addition to this development came the Enlightenment. The Enlightenment played a significant role in bringing about its own revolution to Latin American thought and culture. The individualistic notions bolstered by the autonomous epistemology of the modern era gave an unprecedented occasion to question the divine authority purportedly held by the Spanish Crown.[9] In this way, the Enlightenment helped to spawn a kind of political liberalism in which individuals could come to question those whose authority and leadership was formerly viewed as incontestable.[10]

This new political liberalism also provided an open door for protestant missions from the United States that came about during the nineteenth century.[11] Although Protestant Christianity did not really begin to take hold until the middle of the twentieth century, many liberal Latin American political leaders saw Protestantism as a means by which to diminish papal authority.[12] This enabled protestant missionaries to work with a level of protection and support from some of the Latin American sources. [13]

The Development of Latin American Christology
As the early church was developing during the early post-apostolic era, a perspective known as Docetism became a viewpoint that was held among several significant groups.[14] Docetism refers to the failure to acknowledge Christ’s humanity. When the church was yet in its early stages of development, Docetists included those who held that Christ’s divinity was antithetical to the notion of suffering.[15] In addition, there were some Docetic Gnostics who held that all flesh was evil and that Christ could not, therefore, have taken on human flesh.[16] And although there are significant differences, by the early twentieth century, a similar understanding of Christ had arisen among many Latin American Christians.

The Docetism of Latin American can be traced partially to early Protestant missions. Early protestant missionaries in Latin America tended to present a Christ who was primarily concerned with individual salvation.[17] It was in this manner that the message of Jesus came to be presented not so much as a means by which adherents could find salvation from the difficulties of earthly life, but rather as something related mainly to one’s eternal destiny. This resulted in a dichotomy between the earthly and the spiritual realms. This in turn led to the development of a Latin American Christology which was largely soteriological. Bonino explains that in this view, “theology is practically swallowed up in Christology, and this in soteriology, and even more, in a salvation which is characterized as individual and subjective experience.”[18] Emilio Nunez, a native from El Salvador, describes the experience first hand. He writes:

The Christ proclaimed to many of us evangelical Christians gave the impression of being confined to the heavenly heights, from which He dealt with each of us as individuals, preparing us for our journey to glory and promising us that He would come back to the world to solve all the problems of humanity. For the present He had nothing to say about social problems; nor should we become interested in them, because our mission was only to rescue the greatest possible number of souls from the sinking boat of the world. That may seem like a caricature, but it is not. At least it is the way in which many of us who came to the evangelical church in the years of the Second World War perceived Christ.[19]

It was this emphasis that helped to foster and exacerbate Docetic tendencies amongst Latin American Christians. In his 1933 work, The Other Spanish Christ, John Mackay noted that the understanding of Christ held by Latin American Christians was one in which his humanity was greatly diminished.[20] Concerning Christ, Mackay wrote, “He is regarded as a purely supernatural being, whose humanity being only apparent, has little ethical bearing upon ours. This Docetic Christ died as a victim of human hate, and in order to bestow immortality, that is to say a continuation of the present earthly, fleshly existence.”[21] In light of this observation, Mackay and others sought to undertake the theological task in order to correct what they perceived to be a significant weakness in Latin American Christology.

The Response Docetism in Latin America
As a missionary concerned with the proclamation of the Jesus of the New Testament, Mackay sought to communicate Christ to Latin Americans in his full humanity. This missiological agenda on the part of Mackay was one in which he sought to present Jesus as the Lord of life whose example was to be followed by those who identified themselves with him.[22] Though an examination of the life of Jesus in the Gospels, Mackay sought to bring focus to the story of Jesus during his early ministry in order to foster identification with Jesus in his humanity.

In later years, Justo Gonzalez picked up the torch initiated by Mackay. In response to Docetic tendencies within Latin American Christianity, Gonzalez endeavored to develop a Christology which would serve as a basis for social ethics.[23] Gonzalez began produce this work in the mid to late 60s and early 70s. Historically, these were times of significant civil unrest and activism in Latin America. Furthermore, Latin American Christians found that their Docetic conception of Christ held by many Latin American Christians did not seem to provide a basis for such activism. Thus, following Mackay, Gonzalez began to articulate a Christology that served as the basis for the action of the church. While Mackay brought back Christ in his humanity, Gonzalez attempted to draw from the example of Jesus, as he was portrayed in his humanity, in order to establish a social ethic that could then serve as a basis for Christian social action.

It was also around this same time that the First Latin American Congress of Evangelism met in Bogotá, Colombia. This meeting of Latin American Christians resulted in the production of the Declaration of Bogotá. This declaration underscored the importance of social action on the part of the Christian church. Shaped by thinking like that of Mackay and Gonzalez, social action, it was affirmed, was exemplified in the life of Christ. This Christological basis for the Christian’s social responsibility is stated in the Declaration which says that “the time has come for us Evangelicals to assume our social responsibility on the biblical foundation of our faith and following the example of the Lord Jesus Christ [emphasis mine] to the last consequences.”[24]
All of these things influenced Christians to embrace a manner of life that sought social transformation through Christian action.

Padilla’s Conception of Jesus as the Missiological Example
The social issues of the Latin American context—issues which have roots going back to colonialism and issues which liberation theology seeks to address—have led Padilla to seek answers in the actions of Jesus as he is portrayed in the Gospels.[25] Padilla affirms that the New Testament Gospels are “essentially reliable historical records.”[26] It is for this reason that the story of Christ contained in the gospels is to be the basis for both Christian practice and evangelism.[27] Padilla believes strongly that there is a need to self-consciously move the theological endeavor back to the biblical text.[28] The Scriptures, he believes, have often become somewhat obscured because the strong emphasis by Western Christians on certain theological formulas that had certain historical significance.[29] This is not meant to deny the validity of orthodox theological doctrinal formulas. Rather, Padilla desires to undertake Christian theology in ways that correspond to the concerns of Latin Americans and which may remain overlooked and/or underemphasized because of the focus on theological formulas that have sometimes come to eclipse Scripture itself.

Working within the same context as Mackay and Gonzalez, Padilla has sought to develop a theology of missions based on Jesus as the missiological example. In this respect, Padilla affirms the presupposition of Gonzalez. “If the Christ of faith is the Jesus of history, then it is possible to speak of social ethics for Christian disciples who seek to fashion their lives on God’s purpose of love and justice concretely revealed.”[30] In the same way that Gonzalez had looked to the life of Jesus as the basis for social ethics, so too Padilla looks to his example as a basis for Christian missions. “To be a disciple of Jesus Christ,” writes Padilla, “is to be called by him both to know him and to participate in his mission. He himself is God’s missionary par excellence, and he involves his followers in his mission.”[31]

This, of course, begs the question of what Jesus’ mission was all about. Exactly what example is exemplified by Christ in the Gospels? For Padilla, Jesus’ mission is about the proclamation of the message of the gospel. The content of the gospel is Jesus Christ as Lord.[32] Jesus Christ, he indicates, “is the content as well as the model and the goal for the proclamation of the gospel.”[33]

Consequently, Padilla (along with many other two-thirds world Christians) understands the Western portrayal of Christ as, in many ways, falling short of the person of Christ presented in the New Testament.[34] The Western Christ, Padilla maintains, reflects too much of Western culture and does not provide those in the two-thirds world with a firm foundation for Christian action.[35] The gospel that is preached by American missionaries, he says, has been too westernized. The message that is proclaimed by Western missionaries “bears the marks of ‘the American Way of Life.’”[36] As a case-in-point, some modern Western missionaries have come to embrace new models of missiology of which Padilla has been critical. These new models for missions are result-oriented approaches that tend to focus on outcomes at the expense of the content of the gospel. Instead of focusing on the proclamation of the gospel, missionaries have sought relevance as a means through which to achieve the desired results. Padilla observes that as missiological methods which can bring in the highest number of conversions and which can produce the most bang-for-the-buck are established as primary, the message of the gospel is being reduced to a formula of marketing.[37] Concerning such approaches, Padilla indicates that the issue is one of theology. The central concern is a question of the content of the gospel. “Preachers for whom relevance is the most basic consideration in preaching are frequently mistaken—they fail to see the link between relevance in preaching and faithfulness to the gospel.”[38] Padilla observes:

It is not surprising that at least in Latin America today the evangelist often has to face innumerable prejudices that reflect the identification of Americanism with the gospel in the minds of his listeners. The image of a Christian that has been projected by some forms of United States Christianity is that of a successful businessman who has found the formula for happiness, a formula he wants to share with others freely. The basic problem is that in a market of ‘free consumers’ of religion in which the church has no possibility of maintaining its monopoly on religion, this Christianity has resorted to reducing its message to a minimum in order to make all men want to become Christians.[39]

An Evaluation of Padilla Christology
Padilla’s contribution to Christian theology from a Latin American perspective is to be commended on a number of levels. First, his recognition that the text of Scripture is primary in the formulation of Christian theology is to be greatly celebrated. Some prominent Latin American theologians have embraced theological systems in which there is, either explicitly or implicitly, a low view of Scripture. Padilla, on the other hand, seems to hold a relatively high view of Scripture as he seeks to undertake the theological task. Secondly, Padilla’s effort to undertake Christian theology corresponding to the concerns of Latin Americans is also very commendable. It seems that Christians in the West often view theology as static. The doctrinal formulations that have come to have wide acceptance in the Christian community are viewed as the all-inclusive end product of theology. But such a view neglects the responsibility of the Christian living in the world today to apply Scripture within his or her social context. It seems that Padilla’s recognition of the need to do theology applicable to the concerns of Latin American Christians is the proper response to this often mistaken notion. A third contribution Padilla makes to the theological conversation flows out from this second point, namely his critique of modern methods of missiology promoted in the West. Christians in the West need to hear Padilla’s call to return to the message of the gospel. Although evangelicals in the West may affirm the centrality of Scripture in much the same way that Padilla affirms it, they implicitly deny the authority of the Bible when they seek to establish missiological methodologies independently of the Scriptures. Regrettably, it seems that while the motives of Evangelicals in the West are generally pure, the implications of a result-oriented missiology are unfortunately not well considered.

But while there is much to be extolled in Padilla’s Christological conception of missiology, there seems to be at least one pressing question in Padilla’s work that remains unanswered. The question is this: Should Jesus’ example necessarily serve as the basis for Christian missions in every instance in which Padilla sees it? Certainly, this is something which Padilla seems to presuppose. And one can easily see why Padilla would make such an assumption given his social context. The Docetic tendencies within Latin American have led Christian theologians in Latin America (following Mackay) to seek a Christology grounded more firmly in the humanity of Christ. The way the new emphasis has come to manifest itself is by returning to the story of Jesus in the Gospels. But how do the stories of Jesus in the Gospels apply to our lives? Do the authors present Jesus only as an example to follow? Could Jesus have done one thing while calling us to do something else? Should we always ask, “What would Jesus do?” Or are there times when it might be appropriate to ask, “What would Jesus have me do?” Perhaps Jesus might have healed a person while a follower of Christ living today might be called upon the care for the person in a different way. In accordance with these questions, Gordon Fee suggests that a narrative does not function as prescriptive “unless it can be demonstrated on other grounds that the author intended it to function in this way.”[40] This seems to be reasonable. And so the question is this: Does Padilla sometimes make the descriptive into something prescriptive? Perhaps this is not the case. Nevertheless, this question does seem to be one that needs to be answered.

_______________________

Endnotes

[1] Pablo Perez, “Padilla, Carlos Rene,” Evangelical Dictionary of World Missions, A. Scott Moreau, et al., eds., (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2000), 718.
[2] Billy Graham Center, Collection 361, T1. Interview of C. Rene Padilla by Paul A. Ericksen on March 12, 1987.
[3] Perez, “Padilla,” 718.
[4] Ibid.
[5] C. Rene Padilla and mark Lau Branson, eds., Conflict and Context: Hermeneutics in the Americas, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1986), 81.
[6] Emilio A. Nunez C., Liberation Theology, (Chicago: Moody Press, 1985), 19.
[7] Ibid., 18-19.
[8] Ibid., 20.
[9] Ibid., 21.
[10] Ibid.
[11] Tim Dowley, ed., Atlas of the Bible and Christianity, (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1997), 150.
[12] Nunez, Liberation Theology, 22.
[13] Ibid.
[14] Gerald L. Borchert, “Docetism,” Evangelical Dictionary of Theology, ed. Walter Elwell, (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), 349.
[15] Ibid.
[16] H. D. McDonald, “Docetism,” New Dictionary of Theology, (Downers Grove: Intervarsity, 1988), 201.
[17] Samuel Escobar, Changing Tides: Latin America and World Mission Today, (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis 2002), 115.
[18] Jose Miguez Bonino, Faces of Latin American Protestantism, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1985), 112.
[19] Nunez, Liberation Theology, 236-37.
[20] John A. Mackay, The Other Spanish Christ, (New York: Macmillan, 1933), 110.
[21] Ibid.
[22] Escobar, Changing Tides, 117.
[23] Ibid., 118.
[24] Quoted in William D. Taylor and Emilio A. Nunez, Crisis and Hope in Latin America, (Pasadena: William Carey, 1996), 414.
[25] Escobar, Changing Tides, 122.
[26] Padilla, Conflict and Context, 81.
[27] Ibid..
[28] Ibid.
[29] Ibid.
[30] Ibid., 87.
[31] Ibid., 89.
[32] Padilla, Mission between the Times, 9.
[33] Ibid., 62.
[34] Rene Padilla, “Christology and Mission in the Two Thirds World,” Sharing Jesus in the Two Thirds World, eds. Vinay Samuel and Chris Sugden, (Bangalore: Partnership in Mission-Asia, 1982), 18.
[35] Padilla, “Christology and Mission,” 18.
[36] Padilla, Mission between the Times, 16.
[37] Ibid., 17.
[38] C. Rene Padilla, “God’s Word and Man’s Myths,” Themelios 3/1 (1977), 3.
[39] Padilla, Mission between the Times, 16.
[40] Gordon D. Fee and Douglas Stuart, How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth, (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2003), 106.

Watson's Doctrine of Repentance

I've recently been reading some works by the Puritans. I just finished reading The Doctrine of Repentance, by Thomas Watson. This is book is amazingly insightful and inspiring.

Regarding the necessity of repentance for all sins, Watson writes:

In particular, let us lament the corruption of our will and our affections. Let us mourn for the corruption of our will. The will not following the dictamen (precept or injunction) of right reason is biased to evil. The will distasts (dislikes) God, not as he is good, but as he is holy. It contumaciously affronts him: 'we will do whatsoever goeth forth out of our own mouth, to burn incense unto the queen of heaven' (Jer. 44.17). The greatest wound has fallen upon our will.

Let us grieve for the diversion of our affections. They are taken off from their proper object. The affections, like arrows, shoot beside the mark. At the beginning our affections were wings to fly to God; now they are weights to pull us from him.

Let us grieve for the inclination of our affections. Our love is set on sin, our joy on the creature. Our affections, like the lapwing, feed on dung. How justly may the distemper of our affections bear a part in the scene of our grief? We of ourselves are falling into hell, and our affections would thrust us thither.

Later Watson encourages his readers to make a serious consideration of sin. He writes:

Sin is a debt. It is compared to the debt of ten thousand talents (Matt. 18.24). Of all the debts we owe, our sins are the worst. With other debts a sinner may flee to foreign parts, but with sin he cannot. 'Whither shall I flee from thy presence' (Ps. 139.7). God knows where to find out all his debtors. Death frees a man from other debts but it will not free him from this. It is not the death of the debtor but the creditor that discharges this debt.

The Most Important and Influencial Person in All of History

As Christians, we acknowledge Jesus as the most important and influential person in all of human history. But how can we go on to describe the utterly immense influence He has had on us? Can any of us give a full account of the significance of Christ in our lives in just a few paragraphs? The Apostle John wrote that the world itself could not contain all of the books that could be written about all that Jesus had done (John 21:25). I suppose the same could be said for what Jesus has done in my life and in the life of every Christian. And so as I undertake to say a few things about Christ’s influence on my life, know that I am burdened by my limited ability to do it in a manner that accurately portrays the magnitude of that influence.

Apart from Christ, we are all inclined to seek fulfillment in idols. Whether we seek fulfillment in the idols of money, career, material possessions, relationships, religion, drugs, alcohol, or whatever else, idols allure us with promises of happiness and fulfillment. They claim to have the power to deliver us from life’s difficulties. Yet they never deliver on their promises. In the end we end up reaping the negative consequences that come when we pursue fulfillment apart from Christ. This is the story of my life before God saved me. I searched for fulfillment in all the wrong places and was held captive to whatever I thought would help me escape the difficulties I experienced in life. But Christ has set me free. Jesus died on the cross to pay the penalty for my sins and rose from the dead to give me new spiritual life. He has granted me forgiveness through His death on the cross. He has given me a gift of righteousness through His sinless life. He has cleansed me of my guilt and gives me grace to live in ways that bring glory to Him.

There is no figure in all of history who is more compelling than Jesus Christ. The person and work of Christ are breathtaking. He alone is all-satisfying. He alone is the One in whom true joy can be found. Through His life, death, and resurrection He has brought about the redemption of His people to the praise of His ineffable glory. This is all something to which Christ opened my eyes and inclined my heart with the result that I now rejoice in the life-transforming power of His gospel.

The Flood Accounts in the Epic of Atra-khasis and the Book of Genesis: A Comparative Study

There have been a number of scholars who have undertaken comparative studies of the Akkadian myth, the Epic of Atra-khasis, and the opening chapters of the book of Genesis.[1] It is certainly the case that the similarities between these two creation stories are striking. Yet while there are many similarities, there are also some important differences. As one begins to evaluate the similarities and differences between these two accounts, it seems that the interpretation of the nature of the relationship between humanity and Yahweh in Genesis is enhanced against the background of the relationship between humanity and the gods of ancient Akkad in the Epic of Atra-khasis. Here I will compare the flood stories in the Epic of Atra-khasis and in the book of Genesis in order to explain how the former provides a helpful background for understanding the latter. First, several features of the Epic of Atra-khasis will be observed and explained. Then the similarities and differences between the account of the flood in the Epic of Atra-khasis and the flood narrative in Genesis will be evaluated and compared. Lastly, the way this comparison enhances our interpretation of the Genesis account will be given.

The Epic of Atra-khasis is an Akkadian myth which describes the creation of humankind. It was likely written during the early second millennium b.c.[2] This epic is a creation account which, like the opening chapters of Genesis, includes a great flood in which humanity is nearly destroyed. The epic tells of a time before humanity in which the lower gods suffered hard labor. In the story, these gods become angry and threaten to go to war against the higher gods if the yoke of hard labor is not lifted. Ultimately, Enlil, the chief of the divine pantheon, heeds to the complaints of the lower gods. The god Enki formulates a plan to create humanity in order that mankind might carry out the hard labor on behalf of the gods for whom the labor had become so burdensome. The birth goddess, Belet-ili, then, creates humanity in accordance with Enki’s design.

The creation account in the Epic of Atra-khasis is one in which human beings are created immortal. Consequently, the human population grows significantly over time. Eventually, the god Enlil becomes angry when he cannot sleep because humanity has become too noisy. He then makes several resolves to destroy humanity, first through disease and then through a famine. However, these resolves are ultimately thwarted by the protagonist in the story.

The protagonist of the story is Atra-khasis. In order to thwart Enlil’s designs to destroy humanity, the god Enki, who designed humanity, instructs Atra-khasis to carry out actions which would result in humanity’s salvation on both of these occasions. But when Enki’s impediments of Enlil’s attempts to destroy humanity through disease and famine succeed, Enlil makes a final attempt to annihilate humankind with a flood. However, Enki again seeks to intervene and instructs Atra-khasis to build a boat so that humanity will not be completely destroyed.

Following the flood in the epic, the gods find a final solution to the dilemma so that both Enlil’s interest in controlling overpopulation and Enki’s interest to preserve humanity are kept. The gods determine to bring about human mortality. In addition, the gods determine to create women who are barren and other women who give birth to still born infants. The epic, then, comes to provide a paradigm for understanding human mortality.

As would probably be evident to anyone familiar with the early chapters of the book of Genesis, the above description of the Epic of Atra-khasis bears many similarities to the account of the flood in the book of Genesis. Most would probably agree that these similarities are simply too striking for a common tradition to be denied. Both narratives portray a hero who is the recipient of divine favor. In both accounts, the hero who is instructed to build a boat for both humanity and animals so that they might be saved from a divinely wrought flood (A III:i; Gen 6:8-21). Both accounts are preceded by a description of the multiplication of humankind on the earth (A I:vii; Gen 6:1). In each of the stories, there is a problem with humanity (A I:vii; Gen 6:5-7, 11-12). And there are distinctions between types of animals that are to be brought onto the ark (A III:ii; Gen 7:2-3, 7-8). Ultimately, the notion that these kinds of parallels reflect a common background is widely accepted by scholars.[3]

One important parallel between the Epic of Atra-khasis and the account of the flood in Genesis is that they each come within the immediate literary context of a broader narrative which describes the creation of humanity. The Epic of Atra-khasis tells of the gods’ determination to create humanity in order that humanity might serve the gods. This service was designed to lighten the load of the gods who were enduring such hardship. And while the Genesis account also speaks of service to Yahweh, the nature of that service seems to be quite different. In Genesis 2:15, Yahweh is said to have put man in the garden in order to db[ (serve) and to rmv (guard) the garden. Although some have understood this as a simple reference to the cultivation of the garden,[4] it has also been observed that when these two Hebrew words are used in conjunction with one another that a priestly role is often in view.[5] Irregardless of which position one takes, the service required of humanity is not represented as something that is done to provide a more inhabitable environment for Yahweh. Rather, Yahweh is portrayed in the Genesis account as establishing the functions of the cosmos in order to provide an inhabitable environment for humankind.[6] This contrast is consistent with the broader ANE context. Walton explains,

In Israel people also believed that they had been created to serve God. The difference was that they saw humanity as having been given a priestly role in sacred space rather than as a slave labor to meet the needs of deity. God planted the garden to provide food for people rather than people providing food for the gods. This shared cognitive environment is evident in that all across the ancient world there was interest in exploring the divine component of humankind and the ontological relationship between the human and divine. In Mesopotamia the cosmos functions for the gods and in relation to them. People are an afterthought, seen as just another part of the cosmos that helps the gods function. In Israel, the cosmos functions for people and in relationship to them. God does not need the cosmos, but it is his temple. It functions for people.[7]

The role of humans, then, in contrast to the ANE notion that humans were work to provide for the gods, was to serve Yahweh in the maintenance and safeguarding of the environment he had established for their very provision.

Another similarity between the Epic of Atra-khasis and the Genesis narrative involves the divine anger in the bringing of a flood. In both stories, the flood comes because of a problem with humanity. In the epic, the god Enlil becomes angry when he cannot sleep because humanity becomes too noisy when the human population increases. As a result, Enlil determines to bring disaster on humankind in the great flood. Similarly, in the book of Genesis Yahweh becomes grieved because of humankind and determines to bring a great flood upon the earth (Gen 6:5-7). However, while the basis for Enlil’s anger relates to his discomfort at the noise level of humanity, the basis for Yahweh’s anger is related to the wickedness of humanity (Gen 6:5).

It is interesting that Yahweh’s reason for destroying the inhabitants of the earth in Gen 6:5 is the same reason given for his promise to never again destroy the earth in Gen 8:21. In Genesis 6, Yahweh is grieved because of the wickedness of humankind on the earth and consequently determines to destroy the earth with a flood. In Genesis 8, Yahweh determines never again to destroy the earth with a flood because “the intention of man's heart is evil from his youth” (v. 21). Regarding this observation, it has been argued that the corruption of the earth in Gen 6:11-12 refers to the pollution of the earth that has come about as the result of the murders perpetuated by humanity.[8] This is suggested in Gen 4:10-12 in which God addresses Cain in response to the murder of Abel saying, “What have you done? The voice of your brother's blood is crying to me from the ground. Now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother's blood from your hand. When you cultivate the ground, it will no longer yield its strength to you; you will be a vagrant and a wanderer on the earth.” Thus, the blood of Abel seems to be described as contaminating the earth. Murder, then, is not merely a sin against the one who is killed, but it is rather a sin against creation which results in the contamination of the earth.[9]

This is further supported by the laws instituted after the flood which include the institution of capital punishment for murder and a prohibition against the consumption of blood.[10] In this prohibition against eating the blood of an animal, the life of the animal and its blood are intricately connected. The fact that the life is in the blood is given as the grounds for this prohibition (also see Lev 17:11, 14; Deut 12:23). The result of this connection between life and blood is that the earth itself is contaminated by the blood of a human being whose life is taken in the act of murder. In a sense, murder itself stains the ground and causes the earth to become polluted since it involved the spilling of the lifeblood which remained upon the earth.

If this is an accurate assessment of God’s intention, then the basis for the flood seems to be directly related to the divine mandate to db[ and to rmv in Gen 2:15. If Yahweh’s purpose in creating humankind was to serve him in the maintenance and safeguarding of the environment he had established for their provision, then the polluted nature of the ground that has resulted from the spilling of innocent blood constitutes a failure to safeguard the creation in accordance with the divine commission.

It is noteworthy that both the basis for Yahweh’s anger in Genesis and the basis for Enlil’s anger in the epic are related to their respective purposes in creating humanity. In the Epic of Atra-khasis, the gods created mankind in order to lighten the workload of the gods so that they might enjoy a more pleasant existence. Ironically, this results in a less pleasurable existence for Enlil who is hopelessly annoyed with the incessant racket made by the ever-growing human population. In this sense man has failed to fulfill the purpose for which he was created. Similarly, Yahweh is grieved because of the wickedness of humanity that has resulted in the literal contamination of the earth by murder. This contamination of the ground constitutes the human failure to fulfill the purpose for which Yahweh created man, namely to fulfill the divine mandate to db[ and to rmv. Hence, it seems that both the Epic of Atra-khasis and the account of the flood in Genesis share something in common in the divine motivation for the flood.

However, while there is this similarity, the distinct purposes of humanity in their respective stories seems to provide for more difference than similarity. Again, in the Epic of Atra-khasis, the purpose of humanity is to enhance the existence of the gods. Thus, when the existence of humanity becomes burdensome to the God Enlil, he determines to destroy humanity. On the other hand, the story in Genesis (if the above understanding is accurate) is one which depicts the flood as being brought about in order to cleanse the earth from the pollution that resulted from the violence of humankind.[11] “The flood is not primarily an agency of punishment, but a means of getting rid of a thoroughly polluted world and starting again with a clean, well-washed one.”[12] Thus, while the divine purpose of the flood in the epic seeks to abolish what was originally intended (namely the existence of the human race as a means of comfort to the gods), the purpose of the flood in Genesis seeks to bring a restoration of what was originally intended (namely an earth cleansed from the pollution caused by humanity’s homicidal conduct.

All of this comes to a head in the closing sections of these two narratives. Following the cleansing of the earth by the flood, the book of Genesis depicts Yahweh as covenanting with Noah promising that he will never again bring about such a flood upon the earth. He then institutes laws in order to protect the ground from recontamination. Finally, the divine mandate from Genesis 1 in which man is instructed to be fruitful and multiply is reiterated. This reiteration serves as an indication that Yahweh’s intention for mankind remains unchanged. The Epic of Atra-khasis, on the other hand, closes with a solution to control the overpopulation which resulted in the noise which led to Enlil’s discomfort. In contrast, then, to the account in Genesis in which Yahweh is portrayed as bringing about restoration, the epic provides its audience with a paradigm for understanding human mortality.

In light of the Epic of Atra-khasis, the account of the flood in Genesis should be understood as making a statement about the relationship between humanity and divinity in contrast to the paradigm offered in the epic. The message of Genesis is not one in which humankind is created to serve the gods. Rather, creation itself is established so that Yahweh might provide for mankind. When humanity malfunctions in the Epic of Atra-khasis, the gods take measures to rectify the problem. Ultimately, the epic offers an explanation of human mortality by way of an appeal to this idea that man was to serve the gods in order to make the divine existence more comfortable. The account of the flood in Genesis, on the other hand, is grounded in the idea that Yahweh ordered the cosmos for mankind. Thus, when there is a problem with humanity, Yahweh graciously determines to pursue a course of action that brings restoration and redemption to his creation so that human beings might come to fulfill the purpose for which they were created.
_________________


Endnotes

[1] Several examples include: Tikva Frymer-Kensky, “The Atrahasis Epic and Its Significance for Our Understanding of Genesis 1-9,” Biblical Archaeologist, 40 (1977) 147-55; Bernard F. Batto, “The Institution of Marriage in Genesis 2 and Atrahasis,” CBQ 62:4 (2000) 621-31; Robert Oden, Jr., “Transformations in Near Eastern Myths Genesis 1-11 and the Old Babylonian Epic of Atrahasis,” Religion 11 (1981), 21-37; Ruth E. Simoons-Vermeer, “Mesopotamian Floodstories: A Comparison and Interpretation,” Numen 21:1 (1974) 17-34.
[2] Bill T. Arnold and Bryan E. Beyer, Readings from the Ancient Near East, (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2002) 21.

[3] Kenton L. Sparks, Ancient Texts for the Study of the Hebrew Bible, (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2005), 314.

[4] Victor P. Hamilton, The Book of Genesis: Chapters 1-17, ed. Robert L. Hubbard, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1990) 171.
[5] John H. Walton, Genesis, (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2001), 172-74; Gordon J. Wenham, Genesis 1-15, ed. Bruce Metzger (Dallas: Word Books, 1987) 67; G. K. Beale, The Temple and the Church’s Mission, ed. D. A. Carson, (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity, 2004) 66-69. Beale argues that the priestly role of Adam in the garden refers to Adam’s responsibility to serve Yahweh in the garden and to guard the garden from wickedness. The events, then, which lead up to the fall constitute a failure on Adam’s part to guard the garden from evil creatures such as the serpent.
[6] John H. Walton, Ancient Near Eastern Thought and the Old Testament, (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007) 179-84.

[7] Ibid, 215.

[8] Tikva Frymer-Kensky, “The Atrahasis Epic and Its Significance for our Understanding of Genesis 1-9,” Biblical Archaeologist, 40 (1977) 152-53.

[9] Ibid, 153.

[10] Ibid, 152.
[11] Ibid, 153.

[12] Ibid.

Review of John Walton's "“The Imagery of the Substitute King Ritual in Isaiah’s Fourth Servant Song,” JBL 122 (2003) 734-743.

In his article, “The Imagery of the Substitute King Ritual in Isaiah’s Fourth Servant Song,” John Walton proposes that the substitute king ritual, which was practiced in ancient Mesopotamia from the Isin period to around 300 BC, provides the historical background for Isaiah’s fourth Servant Song. Walton notes some of the various difficulties that have prevailed regarding how the imagery of this passage is to be understood. He then sets out to show how an awareness of the ancient substitute king ritual provides the necessary pre-understanding for certain aspects of this song. Walton concludes that this background establishes a basis by which these difficulties can be satisfactorily resolved.

Walton begins with an examination of the substitute king ritual. He describes this ritual as an ancient custom that might have been undertaken by a king whenever a life-threatening omen was believed to have been imminent. The substitute king ritual was one in which a substitute king would be temporarily installed in the king’s place. History records both instances in which prominent individuals were made to be substitute kings and instances in which persons of low social standing were chosen for the task. This ritual was not thought to be a means of fooling the gods, but rather the role of the substitute king was to serve as a substitute upon whom the gods could carry out the omen. The substitute would serve as king for a time. He would take a queen and perform some of the king’s duties and functions. In the end, the divergence of the omen to the substitute would be made manifest by putting the substitute to death. He would then be given a royal funeral. The final result of this ritual was believed to be the deliverance of the genuine king from the omen’s effects.

After establishing the central principles and tasks of the substitute king ritual, Walton goes on to draw a comparison between the ritual and the fourth Servant Song. He explains that the parallels between the song and the ritual are sufficient to establish his proposal that the author had a substitute king motif in mind. Walton notes that like the substitute king, the Servant in the fourth song suffers for the transgressions and iniquities of others so that they might be delivered. In addition, he observes that the Servant is depicted as one who is not esteemed, but despised. Walton suggests that this characterization is one which parallels the substitute king ritual since in many traditions the substitute would have been someone from the lower echelons of society who would have been looked upon as dispensable. Similarly, the Servant is here depicted as one who is of low stature. Additionally, the fact that the servant was “with the rich in his death” can be understood in light of the ritual since the substitute king would have been given a royal funeral upon his death. Another important parallel that Walton observes is that in the ritual, it is the will of the gods to bring about the king’s downfall. In the same way, the song states that it is the will of Yahweh “to crush” the servant “and cause him to suffer.”

While Walton shows that there are significant parallels between the song and the ritual, he also explains that the author of the song has altered the substitute king motif in certain ways to express the theological point that he is making. Most evidently, the song does not depict a king who is to be delivered, but rather it is a community who receives the deliverance by means of the Servant’s suffering. And while the king would then see his offspring and his days would be believed to have been prolonged, the Servant Song may be understood as a passage in which the days of the corporate body are prolonged so that they would then be able to continue to produce offspring.

Walton concludes this piece by noting some implications of his thesis. First, if his thesis is accurate, the modification of the substitute king motif to accommodate a community rather than a king becomes a variation on democratization. Thus, while the Servant has been understood by others as a democratization in which the corporate body is itself signified by the Servant, Walton’s model is one in which the democratization involves the replacement of the king with a corporate body who is then understood to receive the deliverance. The second implication that Walton notes is that the Servant’s role must be understood as having a vicarious aspect to it. He notes that this position is one that has been disputed by Whybray and others. The third and final implication that Walton lists is related to the identity of the servant. Some commentators have suggested that the Servant is either the prophet himself or corporate Israel. Walton notes that the vicariousness of the suffering eliminates the possibility that the Servant can be identified as the prophet and the corporate identity of those on whose behalf the Servant suffers eliminates the possibility that the Servant is corporate Israel. In conclusion, Walton proposes that the significant overlap between the first two Servant Songs and the messianic figure of Isaiah 11 and Isaiah 61-62 suggests that the Servant should probably be identified with the Davidic king who is depicted in these passages.

In this article, Dr. Walton presents an outstanding example of how comparative studies should be conducted. He explains the historical background concisely and is thoughtful to mention material that is relevant to his thesis. He then compares the background information with the biblical passage and pays careful attention to note both similarities and differences. Finally, he states the conclusions that can be drawn from his analysis and suggests some different ways of dealing with these conclusions. This format was very straight-forward and easy to follow.

Dr. Walton’s analysis and explanation of both similarities and differences between the Servant Song and the substitute king ritual is especially helpful for the way it illustrates the role that such comparisons should play in the identification of historical backgrounds for biblical studies. Walton clearly establishes his position that the similarities between the fourth Servant Song and the substitute king ritual are so significant that the differences simply serve to illustrate the theological point that the author is attempting to express to his audience. Thus, Walton seems to allow the presence of significant similarities to be the determining factor as to whether or not a biblical author had a particular background in mind when he penned a given passage. And while this criterion is somewhat subjective, it would seem to help prevent the interpreter from seeing parallels when such parallels do not exist.

Nevertheless, while such an understanding of the role of similarities and differences is helpful, Walton’s line of argumentation may leave room for questions about whether the number of similarities is sufficient to see the substitute king ritual as background for the Servant Song. First, one might question whether the fact that the Servant is depicted as one who is despised qualifies as a similarity since there are also examples in which the substitute king was taken from the higher echelons of the community. It can at least be said that this may constitute a similarity between the Servant Song and certain traditions of the ritual. But there is a question about whether this tradition of the ritual would have been the one that the author would have had in mind. Perhaps if the other similarities between the song and the ritual are sufficiently significant, then it can be concluded that this was the particular tradition that the author had in mind. A second question raised about similarities relates to the substitutionary role of the Servant. As Walton notes, there is no king mentioned in the song on behalf of whom the Servant suffers. It should also be noted that the similarity between the fact that the Servant was “assigned a grave with the guilty” is contingent both upon a particular rendering of the word ~y[iv'r> and upon the acceptance of the somewhat questionable idea that this guilt would have been something associated with the king. Thus, the definitive similarities seem to be limited to the burial of the Servant, the fact that it was Yahweh’s will (like Marduk’s) to cause the Servant to suffer, and the Servant suffers on behalf of others that they might be delivered. It seems that if these similarities are significant (and perhaps they are), then other parallels can be drawn. However, I suspect that some might be reluctant to recognize these parallels as so significant as to conclude that the substitute king ritual must have been in the mind of the biblical author. This is especially true in light of the number of significant differences that can also be observed.

Nevertheless, while I think that there are still some unanswered questions regarding parallels between the Servant Song and the substitute king ritual, I was swayed by the force of Walton’s argument. Although I do not think that all of the parallels, which Walton lists as similar, are clearly similar in a one-to-one comparison, there are significant similarities nonetheless. Furthermore, it seems that even the mere potential for similarity which comes with viewing the Servant Song through the lenses of the substitute king ritual adds some weight to the overall argument. In other words, even though these parallels may be somewhat questionable on their own, the possibility that the song can be viewed through this paradigm suggests that the author may have had it in mind. For if one assumes a tradition of the ritual in which the substitute is taken from the lower echelons of society, and if one allows for the idea of guilt proposed by Walton, and if one allows for some of the other assumptions required by the argument, then certain aspects of the Servant Song which interpreters have historically had trouble understanding become explainable. This, I believe, adds strength to the force of the overall argument.

Joy to the World!

No more let sins and sorrows grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make His blessings flow
Far as the curse is found,
Far as the curse is found,
Far as, far as, the curse is found.

O Holy Night!

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Why Study Global Christian Theology?

1. We are called to engage the world theologically. The social and cultural contexts in which Christians have found themselves over the course of history have continually given rise to a need to relate Christian theology to those various contexts. As a result, Christians have been faced with the challenge of thinking theologically about a plethora of issues that have arisen within their diverse social environments. This should facilitate the development of Christian theology in all of the global communities in which Christians are present.
2. We should be careful to engage all cultures, particularly those cultures in which the majority of the world’s Christians are found. In 2000, there were 785 million Christians in North America and Europe. But there are over a billion Christians in Africa, South America, and Asia. And so Western Christians are in the minority. Obviously, there are a variety of social phenomena which occur in these other regions of the world. And as Christians, we are called to engage these cultures. Ultimately, these non-Western social contexts and the situations arising from these contexts affect the majority of the world’s Christians. But there has been a great lack of reflection upon many of these situations by Christians in the West.
3. Dialog with Christians from other cultures helps us to understand the issues with which they are struggling. This is true of theology that is truly Christian and theology that is Christian in name only. As we enter into conversation with Christians who live in other social contexts, it helps us to understand the questions and issues that relate to them so that we can then reflect theologically on these issues.
4. Global readings help us to ask important questions that we might not have considered given our own social location. In the same way we are able to observe ways in which Christians from other cultures might be compromising Christian doctrine, so too they can help us to see ways that we might be succumbing to such compromise.
5. Theological conversation with Christians in different cultures can help us in our understanding of Scripture. There are Christians in other regions of the world who are seeking to interpret the Bible in ways that are faithful to the text. At times these Christians may have cultural parallels to the ancient culture which enable them to see things that we might not have observed because of the degree to which our own culture is removed from the ancient culture.

Review of John Walton's “The Sons of God in Genesis 6:1-4,” in The Genesis Debate, Edited by Ronald Youngblood, (Wipf & Stock, 1999) pages 184-209.

In his article, “The Sons of God in Genesis 6:1-4,” John Walton argues against interpreting the “sons of God” in Genesis 6 as angels. Rather, he proposes that the identification of the “sons of God” is best made in light of parallels between Genesis 6 and the Epic of Gilgamesh. Walton argues that these parallels, along with information from several other ANE sources, provide a historical picture in which the most likely identification of the “sons of God” is ANE kings.

Walton begins with a brief overview of the debate. He explains that there are three basic interpretations of the “sons of God” in Genesis 6. There are those who believe that they are men from the line of Seth. Others believe that the “sons of God” are angels. And lastly, others believe that the “sons of God” are rulers. Walton indicates that there are two recent variations on the second and third views. The variation on the second view is one in which the “sons of God” are understood to be “gods.” The variation on the third view (the position with which Walton aligns himself) is a position in which the “sons of God” are understood to be royalty.

Walton gives a significant amount of space to addressing arguments that have been made by those who hold to the position that the “sons of God” are angels. Walton first gives a brief overview of the basic arguments that have been used to support this position. He says that proponents of this view have argued that the author of this section in Genesis 6 sets the “sons of God” and the “daughters of men” in antithesis to one another in such a way that the “sons of God” cannot be understood to be part of the “daughters of men.” Therefore, the “sons of God” cannot be human since advocates of this argument say that the “daughters of men” must be understood to refer to humanity in general. Another argument is that the “sons of God” should be understood to be angels since every other time the same form of the phrase appears in the Scriptures it refers to angels. Lastly, Walton explains that some have argued that the “sons of God” should be interpreted as angels since this is the only known interpretation prior to the time of Christ as well as the way the NT authors interpret it (Jude 6 and 2 Peter 2:4).

After having presented these basic arguments for this position, Walton then gives the reasons that he does not find these arguments compelling. Regarding the argument dealing with the antithesis between “sons of God” and “daughters of men,” he explains that it has long been recognized that there is no logical problem with the idea that the “daughters of men” refers to women in general while the “sons of God” could refer to certain men. Regarding the lexical argument, Walton points out that the number of times that the phrase “sons of God” occurs in the Scriptures is not sufficient to establish a lexical basis for limiting the meaning of that phrase to angels. Rather, Walton argues, the interpreter should draw from biblical and ANE uses of the formula “son(s) of X.” After examining the way this formula is used, Walton concludes that although it is theoretically possible that “sons of God” refers to angels, it is not an interpretation that is dictated by the use of the phrase “sons of God” or the formula “son(s) of X.” Lastly, with respect to the argument from tradition, Walton observes that while extra-biblical sources are interesting and sometimes helpful, that they are not finally authoritative. And finally, the idea that the NT authors understood Genesis 6 in this way is not definitively demonstrated by the texts in question. Jude 6 uses the word “fornication.” which does not seem to be the same thing that is being expressed in Genesis 6. Similarly, while 2 Peter 2:4 speaks about the sin of angels, it is not explicit about the specific sin which these angels committed.

As an alternative to interpreting the “sons of God” as angels, Walton proposes that the parallels between Genesis 6, the Epic of Gilgamesh, and other ANE texts, suggest that “sons of God” in Genesis 6 refers to royalty. First, Walton indicates that Gilgamesh and other ANE kings are said to be of divine lineage and are therefore qualified for the title “sons of God.” Second, he indicates that Gilgamesh is depicted as a giant. If the Nephilim are also understood to be giants (as many interpreters understand them to be based on Numbers 13:33), then Gilgamesh may be understood to fit this category as well. Third, by virtue of his heroism, Gilgamesh qualifies as one of the “heroes of old.” Fourth, Gilgamesh seems to be depicted in the epic as detaining women (taking the daughters of men). Lastly, the fact that the “sons of God” find their longevity reduced would have been particularly fitting if they are understood to be royalty. The reason that this is the case is that kings were especially interested in immortality.

Walton concludes that the parallels between Genesis 6 and the Epic of Gilgamesh relate specifically to ANE royalty. And while there is no literary dependence between these two works, he says that both seem to reflect ANE concepts about royalty. If this is the case, then Genesis 6 can be understood as part of a progression from the individual rebellion of Adam, Cain, and Lamech, to the royal rebellion here in Genesis 6, to the societal rebellion in the narratives of the flood and Babel.

In this article, Dr. Walton demonstrates exemplary use background materials. Explaining material that is relevant to his proposal, he describes the historical background from the Epic of Gilgamesh and other ANE texts in relation to Genesis 6. As he presents this information, he compares it with the biblical passage and notes potential similarities between the two. Finally, he states the conclusions that can be drawn from his analysis and explains how one’s understanding of Genesis 6 is enhanced in light of this material.

In the final analysis, I did find Dr. Walton’s proposal convincing, but not definitively so. The problems he notes relating to the arguments for the view that the “sons of God” are angels are well-taken. Certainly, neither the lexical argument nor the antithesis argument is valid if they are presented deductively. However, if the conclusions of these arguments are simply presented as ways of making sense of the material found in Genesis 6, then they are not so easily dismissed. For example, while there is not an antithesis between the “sons of God” and the “daughters of men” that necessitates that they must be understood as non-humans and humans, respectively, they may be understood in this way without any kind of logical difficulty. Thus, this position cannot be completely dismissed on the basis that the argument does not deductively establish an understanding of “sons of God” as non-human. Similarly, Walton recognizes that while the lexical argument does not necessitate that the “sons of God” in Genesis 6 are angels, it also does not rule out the possibility that they may be.

I was also not completely comfortable dismissing early extra-biblical interpretations of “sons of God” as angels. While it is true that these interpretations are not ultimately authoritative, sometimes those who are more contemporary to the historical context are better able to understand the text. In addition, such interpreters may also be connected with an interpretive tradition that stems back to the original reading of the text. Of course, in this particular case, this is merely speculative. But while there may not have been a sufficient allotment of space to devote to the question of ancient interpretations in this article, it may be something that could be examined more deeply.

With respect to the specific ANE parallels that Walton observes between Genesis 6, the Epic of Gilgamesh, and other ANE texts, I was convinced that ANE kings could very easily have been categorized as “sons of God.” It is also very intriguing that Gilgamesh is depicted as somehow detaining women. However, the purpose for which these women were being detained is not clear. In addition, the parallels between Gilgamesh and the Nephilim, and between Gilgamesh and the heroes of old, are contingent upon certain understandings of the Nephilim and an identification of the “sons of God” as the Nephilim and/or the heroes of old. Thus, if these conditions could be further established, Walton’s argument might be better established.

In conclusion, while there are still some unanswered questions regarding these parallels, I was swayed by the force of Walton’s argument. And although I do not think that all of the parallels are equally clear, the overall picture seems to enhance the role of the narrative within the greater context. Thus, the progression from individual rebellion, to royal rebellion, to societal rebellion that can be seen through this paradigm, seems to add strength to the overall argument by allowing the interpreter to see a kind of literary structure that is typical of such literature.

Regeneration: The New Birth

The new birth marks the beginning of the Christian life and the beginning of the process of sanctification. Before we come to Christ we are spiritually dead. Those who are spiritually dead are unable to turn to Christ and believe, unable to do anything good as God counts good, and unable to recognize the truth of the gospel. Before we came to Christ we naturally resisted the truth and put our trust in other things. We looked to money, sex, power, alcohol, drugs, relationships, hobbies, and all kinds of other things to deliver us from our problems and to satisfy us. Yet we found that these things did not satisfy us. It was at this point that God mercifully came to us and took away our heart of stone, giving us a new heart so that we were made able to understand and recognize the truth of the gospel. We then naturally responded in saving faith and, as a result, came to experience all-satisfying joy in Christ.

Thanks be to God for the glorious grace of regeneration!

Four Books I Want to Read from 2009

This week Kevin DeYoung has been blogging about books. He's given his own top reads from 2009 along with the top reads from Mark Dever and C. J. Mahaney. He's also provided a list of forthcoming books from several Christian publishers. Justin Taylor has linked to Kevin DeYoung's book blogs and has also listed Russell Moore's tops picks from 2009.

After looking at everyone's top picks, I've found at least four books that I'm very interested in reading. Here they are:

4. Money, Greed, and God: Why Capitalism is the Solution and Not the Problem, by Jay Richards

3. Counterfeit Gods: The Empty Promises of Money, Sex, and Power, and the Only Hope That Matters, by Timothy Keller

2. Why Johnny Can’t Preach: The Media Have Shaped the Messengersave Shaped the Messengers, by T. David Gordon

1. The Trellis and the Vine: The Ministry Mindset that Changes Everything, by Colin Marshall and Tony Payne

Christian Worldview, Part V - Ways We Allow Unbelieving Worldviews to Creep into Our Thinking

1. Counseling
Within most Bible-believing evangelical churches in Americaf there are those problems which are perceived as problems that go beyond the church’s capacity to handle. Problems that are often seen by the church as something requiring a professional counselor include addiction, depression, anger, low self-esteem, and a host of other things.

Approaches from the field of psychology are essentially rationalistic conclusions based upon non-Christian presuppositions. In this way they stem out of an unbiblical worldview. For example, while the Christian worldview recognizes the fallenness of human beings, the world of psychology generally believes that we are inherently good and, therefore, have the capacity to do well given the right direction, motivation, and education. Therapy sessions, therefore, in which a therapists seeks to provide this kind of direction, motivation, and education, apart from any requirement of a supernatural change in a counselee’s moral disposition, are viewed as something that will help a counselee to overcome his or her problems. And while this is only one example, it is generally true accrss the board that conclusions within the realm of psychology are the rational outworkings of a series of unbiblical presuppositions. The findings of psychology, therefore, are at odds with the way God has created and ordered things to operate (moreover, the kinds of issues with which psychologists often deal are the kinds of issues about which the biblical authors speak and to which the gospel itself applies).

2. Church Practice
One approach to church that has been successful by some standards is the seeker-sensitive model. As they began thinking about how to establish a church, what was to become Willow Creek Community Church conducted a six-week, door-to-door survey. In this survey they asked people who didn’t attend church, why they didn’t attend. They asked them what church would have to be like in order for them to attend. And the answers they received in this survey served as the basis for the establishment of this particular church.

Now, traditionally, Christians have sought to establish church practice based upon the teachings of Scripture. And while we have embraced different ecclesial forms, different forms of church government, different emphases in worship, and a host of other differences, biblical Christianity has always maintained that the Scriptures are the ultimate authority in church practice. This is because of our worldview—we believe that in order to know something truly that we must look to God to tell us. This is how we come to know things. But the seeker model I just described has actually incorporated something from existentialism in allowing human experience to inform us in regard to church practice.

3. Christian Apologetics
Christian apologetics is something to which Christians are called in 1 Pet 3:15. Peter tells us to always be ready to give an answer to everyone who asks us about the hope that is within us. And so Christian apologetics is the discipline which trains Christians to give an answer for their hope—it is the “defense of the faith.".

Now, traditionally, Christian apologetics has taken the form of arguments designed to prove to the unbeliever that the Christian faith is true. On one level, this is legitimate. But as Christians, we should not set our faith aside or adopt non-Christian presuppositions in order to make this happen. Unfortunately, this is what we have often done. We have sought to appeal to the unbeliever’s presuppositions in order to establish the Christian worldview. However, if we are appealing to the unbeliever’s worldview, then we are really just solidifying him or her in unbelief. What we really want to do is overturn the unbelievers’ worldview with the Christian worldview. But again, this isn’t what has always been done.