Here's Jeremy Pierce's reply to Thabiti's reply below. (ht: Justin Taylor).

Jonathan,

Jeremy is doing his PhD on the metaphysics of race, so I think his would be the better reflection on the current scholarly literature.  But for the laymen out there, here's the dictionary.com listing of definitions for "Race."  I think this is what most people have in mind.

These are the kinds of things I think most regular Joes are thinking when they say "race."  The listing at dictionary.com is helpful for the note on origin and use it includes.  In the notes you'll see what Jeremy was appealing to in terms of the waning association of "race" with biology or genetic heredity.  Here are the notes:

[Origin: 1490–1500; < F < It razza, of obscure orig.]

—Synonyms 1. tribe, clan, family, stock, line, breed. Race, people, nation are terms for a large body of persons who may be thought of as a unit because of common characteristics. In the traditional biological and anthropological systems of classification race refers to a group of persons who share such genetically transmitted traits as skin color, hair texture, and eye shape or color: the white race; the yellow race. In reference to classifying the human species, race is now under dispute among modern biologists and anthropologists. Some feel that the term has no biological validity; others use it to specify only a partially isolated reproductive population whose members share a considerable degree of genetic similarity. In certain broader or less technical senses race is sometimes used interchangeably with people. People refers to a body of persons united usually by common interests, ideals, or culture but sometimes also by a common history, language, or ethnic character: We are one people; the peoples of the world; the Swedish people. Nation refers to a body of persons living under an organized government or rule, occupying a defined area, and acting as a unit in matters of peace and war: the English nation.

Usage Note: The notion of race is nearly as problematic from a scientific point of view as it is from a social one. European physical anthropologists of the 17th and 18th centuries proposed various systems of racial classifications based on such observable characteristics as skin color, hair type, body proportions, and skull measurements, essentially codifying the perceived differences among broad geographic populations of humans. The traditional terms for these populations—Caucasoid (or Caucasian), Mongoloid, Negroid, and in some systems Australoid—are now controversial in both technical and nontechnical usage, and in some cases they may well be considered offensive. (Caucasian does retain a certain currency in American English, but it is used almost exclusively to mean "white" or "European" rather than "belonging to the Caucasian race," a group that includes a variety of peoples generally categorized as nonwhite.) The biological aspect of race is described today not in observable physical features but rather in such genetic characteristics as blood groups and metabolic processes, and the groupings indicated by these factors seldom coincide very neatly with those put forward by earlier physical anthropologists. Citing this and other points—such as the fact that a person who is considered black in one society might be nonblack in another—many cultural anthropologists now consider race to be more a social or mental construct than an objective biological fact.

T-,

From our conversations I know you don't want to dwell too much on the fiction, but point people instead to reality. But it's evident you've been thinking about these things for a long time, and for as much as we've talked about it, I know I'm still catching up. So, I know you don't want to camp here long, but can you help me (us) a bit more with the fiction?

What exactly do the "experts" say "race" is? That is, what do they mean to speak of the "Black race" or "White race" or "Asian race"? I mean, if you (a "Black" man) and I (a "White" man) are both created in God's image, and if we share the same biology (except for skin color and the fact that I'm taller and more handsome), what is this "race" thing--as people like Jeremy would define it? (And I'm happy for Jeremy to jump into the comments section!) Thanks, brother.

Jonathan,

Thanks for the link and the question.  Is "race" a fiction?  Well, I guess my perspective is obvious from the article.  Thanks for the link to Jeremy's response.  He raises some interesting concerns and reflections.  I'll try to respond to a couple of things.

1. Let’s stipulate that the imago Dei has historically been defined differently by different theologians, with people wrestling with the idea in various ways.  But let’s also grant that whatever it means all people are made in that image, male and female (unless we understand these terms not bodily but in some broader “gendered” way).  My point is not to argue that God is corporeal, but to argue that our physical realities do embody the image in some way and that no body denies that image.  What I’m interacting with there is the long history of racial prejudice and philosophy that argued otherwise. The main point is that it's theologically irresponsible to offer a theological anthropology that doesn't address the falsehoods about African humanity historically perpetrated under the banner of "race."

2. Jeremy seems to miss the fact that I’m trying to argue to something more than I’m trying to argue with something or accommodate current thinking about race.  I’m laying out a proposal for how we get to the sections that he likes, more than I’m trying to engage the wider body of literature on “race.”  Which I would easily agree does assume the reality of “race.”  My shelves are lined with such books.  Where he and I disagree is that I think the assumption typical of the wider literature (“race” exists) is precisely the problem!  At one point I would have listed myself with him as a “race scholar.”  My peer-reviewed published work is on the formation of “racial identity attitudes" and their intersection with things like group esteem, self-efficacy, etc.  Now, having done my share of research and writing in that arena, my personal view has become that once you start with the prism of “race,” you can’t escape it.  There’s no way into and out of that maze.  Now, if you want to remain in that maze, then you’re not worried about an exit strategy.  But if you want to exit, choosing the door marked “race” is doomed to failure from the start, imo.

3. Jeremy's argument that things like refrigerators aren’t in the Bible really sadly misses the point.  Of course there are tons of things that are real that are not in the Bible.  And so, too, there are tons of things that are not real that are not in the Bible.  Strangely, unicorns and Leprechauns come to mind.  But if we started defining and explaining reality based on our belief in Leprechauns, I'm afraid a padded room awaits us.  It would be a sign of poor mental health.  "Race" has about as much legitimacy as a construct for explaining reality as Leprechauns in our closets and under our beds.  Jeremy seems to want to say “race” is real in the same way that a physical object like a refrigerator is real.  Again, this is precisely the problem.  Folks start with a non-biblical social or philosophical construct, “race,” treat it as though it were as real as the computer we’re typing on, and then erect and explain an entire reality based upon the construct.  That’s building on sand.  IF (grant me the assumption for a moment) the way we think about “race” is unhealthy and unbiblical to start, then isn’t the appropriate strategy to at least re-think and probably jettison it altogether in favor of a real reality (human solidarity) instead of a socially constructed “reality”?  If not, I think we end arguing "let’s leave off the authority and perhaps sufficiency of Scripture" on this issue.

4. The fact that in some way people continue to root “race” in biology and assumptions about phenotype seems self evident to me.  Though he wants to deny that most people think of "race" as rooted in biology in any way, Jeremy’s own example (the one drop rule) actually proves the point.  One drop of black blood (there’s biology, race and blood) makes a person—no matter the phenotype—black according to the one drop rule.  In his example, the light- or white-skinned person of mixed parentage is defined as black, actually proving the rule.  And not incidentally provides flesh and bone reason for why we should re-think/abandon “race” as a category altogether.  Thinking of race in biological terms (whether in terms of blood or skin color) may, in fact, be on the decline.  But I think we need to hasten its death, sign the DNR, not sustain it by pretending the construct is real.

5. As for ethnicity, Jeremy thinks I’m playing word games a little bit.  He seems to think that my definition of ethnicity is, in fact, what “race” really is.  He understands “black people” to be the overarching identity for people of black skin, grouping them in a race.  (You see, again, how one can’t easily escape biological assumptions in this discussion.  At one point Jeremy writes, “Most race theorists who accept the existence of races do not think that races are a necessary implication of biological facts. They think social and historical factors have produced racial categories that rely on biological features in terms of how we classify people, but the root is in social and historical factors, not in biology.”  He seems to take away biology with one hand while replacing it with the other.).  He writes: “People discriminate against black people, not usually against black Africans or black Americans”.  I think this framework holds primarily in the States.  It’s far, far less applicable once you move outside the States and especially in contexts where Whites are not the majority and the history of “race” is not that of the U.S.  So black-skinned Barbadians and Jamaicans in the Caribbean don’t think primarily or overarchingly in terms of “black people,” unless they’re adopting a particular pan-Africanist political ideology (which has as much to do with the U.S.view of this idea as anything else).  Hausa and Ibo are clear about what it means to be Hausa and Ibo in Nigeria.  They think of themselves in ethnic, culturally distinctive ways… what I’ve labeled ethnicity.  Keep in mind, my article doesn’t argue that there are not any real differences among people, or necessarily that those differences don’t to some extent co-vary with things like skin color.  The argument is that you can’t root that difference in "race" (which invariable assumes some trait-level biological classification).  And second, a more biblical and precise way of explaining the differences we see is ethne/ethnos (nations, ethnicities).  So, to the extent he thinks I’m denying all differences, he’s missed the point.  I’m not.  I’m extending an alternative that is more nuanced, biblical, and, I think, useful for not only explaining the differences but doing the work of the church (missions, for example).  “Race,” which flattens everything into black, white, etc., is a far less useful construct, imo.  If I continued to use terms like Black and White throughout the piece, that’s inadvertent and evidence of my own continuing reform in this area.

6. I don’t understand that denying that “race” is real is tantamount to denying that racism and racial atrocities are real.  I very much believe that real things are done in the name of “race” and that those things need to be resisted, prosecuted, and so forth.  My concern is that those things are done based upon a perceived difference and corresponding valuations of “race.”  As long as we keep “race,” we’re likely to see those things continue.  Entrenching the perception of difference doesn’t help us with this fundamental problem of people acting out in ways that are harmful against others.
7. Finally, Jeremy has difficulty seeing why I associate "race" with idolatry.  "Race" is idolatry insofaras: (a) it does not really exist; and, (b) as people are so wed to it as a defining construct that they behave in ways contrary to the will of God.  The worship of the thing becomes apparent, imo, wherever people choose this way of viewing life over the ways prescribed in scripture.  It's not as though the Scripture is completely silent on "race."  Where God does speak, He says there is but one in Adam and another in Christ.  And the Scripture seems to me to prohibit thinking of ourselves and others in ways that suggest anything but that oneness in Adam and/or oneness in Christ.  That's the "idolatry" I'm thinking of… exalting "race," alienation and culture to the level of rivaling God's description of the world as it really is.

Anyway… this is longer than I’d intended.  I recognize that saying "race doesn't exist" to most people is a bit like saying to a secular scientist "evolution doesn't exist."  It disturbs the central organizing theory of social identity and interaction; without it, we feel ourselves ill-equipped to define and cope with life.  And yet, the Lord has not left us without witness and light in this area.  We need but walk in it. I hope this is helpful.

Thabiti,
Your article Many Ethnicities, One Race seems to be getting some attention. Here's one response (thanks to JTaylor for pointing it out). Any thoughts? Anyone else? Is "race" a fiction?

Brothers, have you read the forum on race in the new issue of the 9Marks eJournal?  What do you think? Is there a race problem in the church, and are Whites missing it?

I haven’t so far offered any thoughts on the Baptism-Lord’s Supper discussion that’s been brewing lately, mostly because I consider the men involved in it to be vastly wiser and more knowledgeable about it than I. For that matter, I consider all of them to be heroes of mine—and some of them even mentors.

But I have a question that I want to ask, because I’m still trying to get a handle on what exactly is at issue here. I was reading a pamphlet this week (published in 1681) by William Kiffin on this very question, in which he “proves”—at least to his own satisfaction—that “no unbaptized person may be regularly admitted to the Lord’s Supper.” By “unbaptized person,” he explicitly includes those who were baptized as infants, and by “regularly” he means “rightly,” not “frequently.”

A good many of Kiffin’s arguments won’t be convincing to most people today, myself included. But he makes one argument that seems to me to cut to the heart of the issue. Here’s that argument, simplified and put into four numbered statements:

1. Baptism is prerequisite to participation in the Lord’s Supper.

2. From a credo-baptist perspective, infant baptism is no baptism at all.

3. Therefore, to allow a person to the Lord’s Table by virtue of his infant baptism is to allow him to the Table by virtue of no baptism at all.

4. And to allow persons to the Table by virtue of no baptism at all is to make baptism optional and therefore unimportant.

To me, that seems like a pretty strong argument. It seems to me that if you grant the two premises (statements 1 and 2), the conclusions (3 and 4) follow pretty naturally. Moreover, this is obviously not a new argument. Baptists have clearly been making it for a very long time.

So here’s what I want to ask as humbly as I can:  In order to get to his position, it seems to me that Dr. Piper has to step out of this chain of argument at some point along it.  Maybe he disagrees with one of the premises; maybe he doesn’t buy one of the conclusions.  But knowing where exactly Dr. Piper believes the above argument fails would be helpful, to me at least, in clarifying this whole question. So . . . at what point does Dr. Piper (or you, if you agree with him) take objection to this very old Baptist line of thinking?

(BTW, It's entirely possible I'm asking a question that's already been answered, so a mere link in the comments section might suffice.)

Thabiti,

Thank you for the helpful point. I don't mean to suggest that a pastor must do step 1, then step 2, then step 3, and so forth. I'm simply trying to enunciate the broad principle that church discipline only makes sense within the context of a right understanding of the gospel and conversion. How a pastor or elders go about applying that principle will differ--to some measure--from case to case.

I suspect there could be occasions of egregious 1 Cor. 5 type sin that an elder may feel he must act upon, knowing that he will use the opportunity to lead the church through discipline in order to clarify the congregation's understanding of the gospel and conversion. Having said that, he will have a much harder go at it if the church doesn't already understand these things in the first place.

9Marks speaks to a number of pastors who want our advice on how to lead their churches into practicing church discipline. Yet as they describe their churches to us, it sometimes becomes clear that their congregations don't understand basic things like repentance. If your (plural) church doesn't understand repentance, you can expect church discipline will be a reeeal tough sell.

I don't think I'm responding precisely to your question about "how to strike the balance," Thabiti. Maybe the other brothers will jump in. Striking a balance is tough. What do you think?

Jonathan, I appreciate your recent post on the need to lead with teaching before implementing corrective discipline in a local church.  Generally speaking, I think that's good counsel.

But I wonder if it might not be a little too "text book."  Here's what I mean.  Suppose a pastor lands in a church where obvious unrepentant sin is taking place.  And let's assume it's of the 1 Cor. 5 variety, known public and egregious sin like a man sleeping with his father's wife, something not even pagans would do.  Your perhaps new to the church and/or the church has not historically practiced discipline.  In such a situation, brothers, how would this general rule apply?  In other words, what would teaching look like and should/should not/how should a pastor and congregation respond to the situation?

How does one strike a balance between caring for the congregation as a whole by teaching and improving their understanding, responding to the particular spiritual concern of the unrepentant sinner, and the cause of Christ in the eyes of both non-believers who scoff and believers who mourn over such sin? 

For years now, Mark Dever and Matt Schmucker have been telling pastors, “If you want to lead your church to practice biblical church discipline, you have to teach about it first. Use your weekly pulpit, your Sunday School classes, and your church newsletter to teach members about discipline. Hand out books on church discipline to key leaders.” And so on. If you think you can jump right into practicing discipline without teaching about it first, you may want to update your resume first.

Now, let me follow their lead and extend the point. If you want to lead your church to practice biblical church discipline, you have to lead your congregation to a deeper understanding of the gospel and of conversion.

If the members of a church only understand the gospel partially, that is, the gospel as

• “Jesus is the one who fills the God-shaped hole in our hearts,”
• “Jesus loves you and has a wonderful plan for our lives,”
• “Jesus has come to declare God’s kingdom and make everything new,”
• “God will bless and prosper us if you only believe that he will,”
• “Jesus came to show us how we need to love others,”
• “If you say the sinner’s prayer, you won’t go to hell,”
• “Jesus came to give us purpose and life abundant,”

then the idea of removing someone from the congregation for unrepentant sin is far less likely to make sense to them.

If the members of a church only understand conversion partially, that is, conversion as

• “just believe,”
• “just pray these words after me,”
• “we’re all on a journey,”
• “it’s not about sin-management, it’s about following Jesus,”

Then the idea of removing someone from the congregation for unrepentant sin is far less likely to make sense to them.

In order for the idea of removing someone from the congregation for unrepentant sin to make sense, a congregation will be greatly served by having a deepening grasp of the following aspects of the gospel and conversion:

• Christ came to purchase a people out of sin, so that we will sin no more.
• God calls his people to be holy because he is holy.
• We’ve been baptized into the death of Jesus so that the body of sin might be done away with.
• We’ve been baptized into the death of Jesus so that we might be raised again to new life.
• Through the new covenant, God actually changes people—he gives them new hearts and new desires.
• Christ calls his followers to repent and believe.
• A man cannot serve two masters.
• A house divided against itself will not stand.
• What good is salt that has lost its saltiness? It might as well be thrown out and trampled.
• Only he who perseveres to the end will be saved.
• Belonging to the king of God means that we have new allegiances; we submit to a new master and Lord. We’re not on a journey; we’re called to change allegiances.
• It is time for judgment to begin with the household of God.
• We are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a people belonging to God.
• If anyone says “I love God” but hates his brother, he is a liar.
• This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out his commands.

I could keep going. But hopefully the point is clear. Church discipline makes sense to a congregation when it understands that the gospel has radical implications for our lives individually and corporately. God doesn’t save people just to save them. He saves them to change them and remake them into his own image. And the changes are part of what give proof to the work of salvation.

Bottom line, pastors: as you’re thinking about leading your church toward the practice of church discipline, assess your congregation’s understanding of the gospel and biblical conversion. Do they get it? If they don’t, you might have more work to do even before you begin to teach on church discipline.

The "unrepentant sin" question is clearly part of the puzzle when welcoming the unbaptised into church membership. A reason why permitting this (even unwitting) disobedience would be more serious than others (e.g. an unwitting denial of the bible's teaching on the millenium) is that baptism itself defines who the church is.

Baptism defines whom we recognise to be members of the visible church, just as Spirit baptism creates the members of the invisible church. (1 Corinthians 12:13). People from both sides of the debate have agreed this. (See, for example, Thomas Shepard's The Church membership of Children)

When I became a convinced credobaptist aged 19, I don't think that I was approaching the subject from a historically baptist viewpoint. I saw that the New Testament commands people to be baptised upon their profession of faith, and that was enough for me. I failed to see the ecclesiological significance of credobaptism: that the church would strive to be a community of belivers only.

There are two relevant implications of the fact that baptism defines church membership.

First, To permit a conscientious paedobaptist into the church is to permit someone to belong to a church who has a very different idea of what a church is. In order to be a church together, do we not at least need to be able to agree what a church is? Is it (1) a covenanted community of believers. Or is it (2) a community that includes believers and their children?

Can we belong to the same church as those who disagree so deeply about what a church is?

Second, if baptism defines church membership it is going to be far easier for a predominantly paedobaptistic congregation to admit a credobaptist to membership (they believe him to be baptised). A credobaptistic congregation is going to have a greater weight on their conscience to admit to church membership one that they understand not to havec been baptised. In order to do this, they would have actually have to deny something that credos and paedos have usually agreed upon: that only the baptised may be admitted as members of the church!

Suddenly the move towards apparent unity requires disagreement on one of the things that we have previsouly been united upon!

From Thabiti Anyabwile's "Many Ethnicities, One Race," coming soon:

"The idea of “races” is, therefore, a fiction."

Anthony Carter in the "Pastors' and Theologians' Forum," coming soon:

"Most of the diversity we presently see is black men and women going to where white people are. Even when predominantly white churches call a black man to be the pastor, it is black people going to where white people are most comfortable. Real diversity will happen when we see white people regularly and joyfully going to where black men lead, preach, and teach. We will see real diversity when white people learn to submit to the minority culture as black people have had to submit to the majority culture."

Mark,

Would you mind if I pressed you a little on this? I'm still trying to work all this out in my own mind, and what better way than to do that publicly, right? :-)

If anyone has taught me about unrepentant sin, it's you...I mean, not like...you know, I mean through your teaching and preaching. Anyway, you've done an excellent job helping me to understand that "unrepentant sin" means

• "sinning with high hand," as I remember you saying the Puritans said;
• "taking sin's side against God, and not God's side against sin," as you've often said.

In both of these characterizations, there seems to be some level of conscious awareness that one is defying God. Do we want to say the same of paedos? You might suggest there are multiple categories of "unrepentant." Okay. I agree there's something not being repented of. But even then, it's hard to avoid these types of associations when you use the word "unrepentant." I suppose to truly answer this we'd have to consider larger questions of spiritual blindness, levels of theological error and heresy, and more. But this is a blog, man, and Mike McKinley would say I'm already being to nuanced.

So let me try it like this: It's hard to know where the line is between mistakes caused by our rebellion and by our finitude, but are we prepared to say that all theological error is necessarily a direct consequence of rebellion and not finitude? Often, error is the result of both--sure. But if, in principle, finitude can play into theological error; and if, in principle, some wrongly held position by a particular individual at a given moment in time can be the result almost entirely or entirely from the various aspects of finitude, should we necessarily call it sin? And unrepentant sin?

BTW: do the paedos ever characterize credos as in unrepentant sin for not baptizing infants? Is there much history to the use of this kind of language btwn the two views?

Sam Lam, from his article "Nine Lessons I Learned From Yellow (And One More)," coming soon

White pastors should be willing to make a greater effort to understand the concerns of minority members in their congregations. This is not because Whites are guiltier of racial offences, but because they posses a more privileged place in society.

I term this the “New York Yankees” syndrome. The Yankees players may not be more arrogant than the players on other baseball teams. But since they enjoy greater financial resources and play on the biggest stage in America, baseball fans impute to them an attitude of pride. In the same way, white pastors have the particular burden (or opportunity!) of working harder to relate with members of their congregation who belong to a minority.

A friendly question to ask those who hold to an "open membership" position:

What are some of the potential negative consequences of this position?  Particularly, what will it mean in defining a clear, bright line between the church and the world?

Whoaa!! I just got back into the country (and onto the internet) a few hours ago and, well, hasn't a lot gone on?!  I'll try to regroup and provide some feedback on the myriad of good questions that have been raised about my last post, but let me simply clarify that I assume that all Christians continue to sin in this life.  Our basic posture is to repent of those sins (according to I John & Romans 6 & Galatians 5) that we become aware of (though we will still struggle).  There are always going to be other sins of which we are not aware.  A particularly difficult category would be those things that one set of Gospel-trusting Christians take to be sin and another set do not (e.g., sabbatarian practices [or lack of them], women serving as elders [or not], commitment to the 10/40 window, a certain church polity, I could go on and on).  I would only suggest that Christ's teaching on baptism seems simple, straightforward and clear to me, so that I don't understand that I have the option to set it aside.  A good friend--let's take Lig Duncan for instance--honestly agrees with me that I don't have the option to set it aside, but does disagree with me on what the Bible teaches about baptism.  He must act according to his own best understanding, and so must I.  God will sort it out. Until there, the greatest of things--the proclamation of the Gospel--we can partner in.  And we will work to evidence the unity of the Spirit we enjoy as an encouragement to other saints.  Furthermore, Lig's error on baptism in NO WAY diminishes my appreciation for God's remarkable work in and through him, nor lessens my desire to learn from him.  Hmmmm.  Is that helpful, blogworld?

I addressed all this in more depth in the talk I did at New Attitude back in May 2007 on how we cooperate together despite our differences.  You might also see if the thoughts there are helpful.  God bless us all, as we seek for Christ-honoring unity and Christ-honoring truth.

I don’t intend to advocate in this post for a Baptist ecclesiology (9 Marks, after all, it not a Baptist ministry) as much as I hope to simply note that the current discussion of the necessity of baptism for church membership is not new, though it tends to be assumed more than it is fully and clearly advocated.

Thus, I began the discussion with one of my heroes, John Bunyan, who rejected the argument that baptism must precede fellowship in a local church (and, thus, church membership). Bunyan wrote, “For herein lies the mistake, To think that because in time past baptism was administered upon conversion, that therefore it is the initiating and entering ordinance into church communion: when by the word no such thing is testified of it” (Works, II:605). Bunyan insisted, instead, that an individual ought to be accepted into membership on the basis of his profession of faith and show of good works.

I already mentioned Abraham Booth who opposed this particular view of Bunyan’s. Baptist theologian John Dagg is another example. What we see in Dagg is a robust theology of the universal church coupled with a robust theology of the local church.  He saw both as two sides of the same coin.

Without mentioning Bunyan, Dagg argued against the idea that a profession of faith is sufficient for church fellowship because God ordained another means: “The profession of renouncing the world, and devoting ourselves to Christ, might have been required to be made in mere words addressed to the ears of those who hear; but infinite wisdom has judged it better that it should be made in a formal and significant act, appointed for the specific purpose. That act is baptism” (Dagg, Manual of Church Order, 71).

Certainly, for Dagg, to be baptized as a believer was to be obedient to God’s command just as a faithful Paedobaptist believes baptizing an infant is an act of obedience. However, perhaps the most interesting aspect of Dagg’s argument has to do with the way he differentiated between the visible and invisible church. Those who denied that baptism is a prerequisite to the Lord’s Supper (and consequently to church membership) often argued that to do so was uncharitable, unloving. According to Dagg, nothing could be further from the truth; a local church has a responsibility to establish boundaries, based upon Scripture, regarding with whom she may share church fellowship but the boundaries of the Church are larger, and her boundaries, Dagg noted, are not open for dispute (for Dagg, the Lord’s Supper represented church membership):

There is a table which the Lord has spread, and to which every child of his family has an unquestionable right. It is a table richly furnished with spiritual food, a feast of fat things, full of marrow, of wine on the lees refined. This table the Lord has spread for all his children, and he invites them all to come: ‘Eat, O friends; drink, yea drink abundantly, O beloved.’ Any one who should forbid their approach would offend against the community of God’s children. The guests at this table have spiritual communion with one another; a species of communion which belongs of right to every member of the church universal. 

There is another table which the Lord has commanded his people to spread in each local church. It is not, like the other, covered with spiritual good things, but with simple bread and wine. It is not, like the other, designed for the whole family of the Lord, but for the particular body, the local church, by whom, in obedience to divine command, it has been spread. Though human hands have set out the food, yet the table is the Lord’s, because it is designed for his service, and prepared at his command; and the will of the Lord must determine who ought to partake. He knows best the purpose for which he commanded it; and, whatever may be the feelings of the guests, they have no right to invite to his table any whom the Lord has not invited (Dagg, Manual of Church Order, 224).

The relevance of these two paragraphs in the Grudem-Piper discussion becomes readily apparent. Piper wrote that for any church to refuse membership to a godly believer is to diminish “our spiritual union with Christ.” However, this is not necessarily the case if spiritual union with Christ is not fully and finally reflected in church membership. As important as the local church is, she is the not the ultimate gatekeeper to membership in Christ’s kingdom—that was Dagg’s point. Membership in the invisible or universal church is a real and glorious reality. Membership in a local church is real and wonderful as well, but refusing membership to this body does not necessarily deny or diminish the reality of another's believers spiritual union with Christ--it may but it need not. 

This does not address every issue that needs to be addressed. For example, the pressing question remains: who decides whether a baptism is valid, the subject or the church? However, it does address one important issue: It is not necessarily less spiritual to divide over issues of baptism (though it can be!) if we affirm membership in the universal church even as we limit membership in the local church.

On a side note, I'm very thankful for the way Drs. Grudem and Piper are modeling how to handle theological disputes with decorum, kindness, and love.  Their wisdom and grace is humbling.  It is easy to assume it should simply be that way, but it isn't always the case.

In the meantime, I would still like to reflect more on some other issues that have arisen in the past and maybe some other 9Marks guys will chime in on some even more pressing issues related to this discussion (hint, hint).

Maybe it simply worth noting that there is a long history, first in England, then in the States, of Baptists addressing the question of whether the unbaptized should be accepted into the membership of Baptist churches.  To put it in a less sterile way, should the church really be split over a difference in baptism?

The most famous account, and one that Mark has lectured on in academic circles, involved the famous tinker from Bedford, John Bunyan. The author of Pilgrim’s Progress defended his practice of allowing the paedo-baptists to join Bedford Baptist Church in Differences about Water Baptism No Bar to Communion (1673). Bunyan offered ten reasons to allow the unbaptized into membership. First, both the baptized and unbaptized are subject to Christ. Second, Eph. 4:1-6 points to one baptism that unifies all believers. Third, all believers share faith in the essentials—life, death, resurrection of Christ. Fourth, a church should not deny communion to someone with whom God has communion. Fifth, a lack of water baptism does not “unchristian” anyone. Seventh, love trumps division. Eighth, churches are wrong to separate over more serious matters than baptism (1 Cor. 3:1-4). Ninth, denying church communion is tantamount to denying the privileges and blessings of salvation. Tenth, it is contemptible to cast off a saint from church communion.

William Kiffin challenged Bunyan in his own day, but a hundred years later another Baptist minister, Abraham Booth, challenged Bunyan’s arguments in A Defense for the Baptists (1778). Not surprisingly, Booth lacked something of Bunyan’s flourish; Booth’s arguments are simple and straightforward. First, the New Testament presents Baptism as a necessary prerequisite to the Lord’s Supper. Second, the necessity of Baptism ought not to be left up to the individual’s conscience (as Bunyan had argued). The church must retain the right to exercise God’s commandment in a matter as clearly prescribed as the subject of baptism. To prioritize an individual’s conscience over biblical teaching threatened the entire dissenting movement of which Booth was a part. This is very interesting. According to Booth, to allow unbaptized persons into the church on the basis of their convictions contrary to the congregation’s teaching threatened the very integrity of the church. His church might as well hang up its separatist credentials and join with the Church of England:

For if it be lawful to dispense with an appointment of God, out of regard to our weaker brethren; we cannot reasonably think it unlawful to practice the appointments of our National Church . . . And if we may safely connive at one human invention; why may not the Church of England make what appointments she pleases? (Defense for the Baptists, Baptist Standard Bearer, 50-51)

What observations can be made based on this discussion? Regarding the first question, Bunyan sought out certain themes in Scripture that seemed to contradict denying membership to a Christian: unity and love being the primary ones. Next, he traded on the emotional weight of these themes and prioritized them above other apparently contradictory ones: obedience [to the command to be baptized] and truth [regarding the necessity of baptism preceding communion]. Booth saw something greater at stake in the discussion than simply whether a few Baptist churches would become mixed. Churches prizing the conscience of the individual above the clear teaching of Scripture threatened leaving their young Baptist roots. This, of course, is eventually what happened to Bunyan’s church. Not during his time, but a few church splits later, Bedford Baptist became Bedford Congregationalist. 

Time to bring this to an end.  I'd still like to discuss in another post trends in America including two   Baptists, Dagg and Dargan, an interesting event in the 1820s where a Congregational and Baptist association sought to become one for the purpose of evangelism in the Northeast, as well as Watts Street Baptist, a church in North Carolina that changed its baptism policy nearly forty years ago.  After that, it will be a good time for me to offer some reflections on the current discussion.

Is the idea of eternity and the believer's ultimate end simply lost to the modern church?  We hear 12 step sermons to make everything better in this life and rarely hear about the next.  Mark Dever has commented before about the change in modern hymnals and how they have increasingly dropped ideas like decay and death (this life) and eternal life with God. 

With this on my mind, I had the privilege this past Sunday to preach at Mike McKinley's church (Guilford Baptist in Sterling, VA) and put to them six reasons why eternity (the idea) may be lost in the church.

1.  We’re distracted by baubles.  We don’t long for and speak of eternity because in our hyper-connected, wealth-soaked, desires-driven world we remain suspended in a state of EXTREME DISTRACTION --by baubles—showy ornaments of little value.  Music, drink, golf,  houses, cars, IPODS, DVDs ESPN, HBO or MTV.  These things are not necessarily bad.  But too often mere baubles.  Meaningless.  They are nothing in light of eternity.  But, boy, are they powerful. 

2.  We’re too content.  Living in America is to be comfortable.  I know there are exceptions, but even the poor in America (according to recent studies) live better than most of all of human history.  We’re content.  Why long for something else when things are fine -- here?  Our wealth buys us out of hard labor.  Our healthcare buys us out of extreme pain.  We are content/comfortable with this world, not eager for the next.  And so we don’t speak of eternal matters.

3.  We may not be Christians.  We don’t speak of eternity because we don’t know the eternal God.  Jesus said, “Out of the mouth comes that which fills the heart (Matthew 12:34).  It’s a nice little test the Lord of the Universe came up with.  You want to know what’s on your heart?  Check what comes out of your mouth.  Sports?  Work?  Relationships?  Money?  Politics?  Does anything eternal ever make it out?  I have a special concern here for you who are or have grown up in a Christian home.  You learn early how to talk the talk.  You know the Christian buzz words and adopt the Christian culture, but is what you say you believe real to your own soul? 
   You talk about mysteries without standing in awe. 
    You talk about zeal without any passion. 
    You speak of sin in the absence of sorrow. 
    You even speak of heaven without any eagerness. 
Be on your guard that you are not playing the role of the Pharisee.  We may not be Christian and so we don’t speak about eternity.

4.  We’re Christian, but our holy desires may be too slight.  About John Owen (leading Puritan preacher) it was said, “holiness…shined in his whole course [his whole life], and was diffused through his whole conversation.”   Owen in his own words:    “If the word does not dwell with power in us, it will not pass with power from us.”  Owen desired all things holy and it came out.  Our holy desires may be too slight.  And so we don’t speak.

5.  We don’t understand our role as Christians.  We don’t “get saved” then do what we want and see God sometime way off in the future.  When you come to Christ, you get a new identity and with that a new role, if you will.  When John the Baptist comes on the scene, the Jewish leadership sent priests out to find out who this guy was.  “Who are you?”  “Are you Elijah?”  “Are you the Prophet?”  “What do you say about yourself?”  What is John’s description of himself?  I AM A VOICE.  I’m not a lawyer or a nurse or a federal worker.  I’m not a teacher, homemaker, student or pastor.  I’m not a painter or a journalist.  I AM A VOICE.  That’s your role!  I believe and therefore I speak (2 Cor 4:13).  We don’t understand our role and so we don’t speak for our eternal God.

6.  We’re too fearful.  We fear the reproach of men.  We fear being rejected by family.  We fear the loss of friends.  We fear looking different/acting different/being different.    Friends, we need to be willing to have every part of this life look stupid if it means being faithful to God and preparing to stand in His presence in the next.

There it is.  Six reasons why the idea of eternity may be lost in our churches today.  I pray it would not be lost to our pastors.

OK, I'm on vacation with my family, but I took print-outs of the Piper/Grudem exchanges on baptism and chruch membership.  9Marks guys, can we weigh in on this?  What would you add to, disagree with, nuance in this argument?

Baptism SHOULD be required for church membership:

1)  Because Jesus clearly commanded baptism and to disobey this command is sin [whether intentional or not].  To continue in such an unbaptized state is unrepentant sin [whether intentional or not].  Thus, no careful paedo-baptist will follow John P's apparent "generosity" about membership.  That is, they will never knowingly admit someone to the Lord's Table that they understand to be unbaptized (even if they took that evangelical Quaker or believing Salvationist to be their brother or sister in Christ).  John P wants us to admit to the Lord's Table those that he and we all agree are not baptized.  John has no doubt that infant baptism is not baptism.  He is solid on that point.  But I think that actually leaves his position unusually open to other difficulties--knowingly admitting the unbaptized to regular communion.  I simply don't want to take the responsibility to so disregard Jesus' commands (not that John P intends to in anyway disregard Jesus' commands).  I especially don't want to do this in what has been an area of relatively unanimous Christian agreement from Jesus til now.  Baptism precedes the Lord's Table.  MUCH more could be said on this, but it probably already has been.

2)  Because according to the New Testament, it is not merely the elders, but the entire membership of the local church that bear responsibility for establishing and patrolling "border & boundary" issues of discipline (Mt. 18; I Cor. 5) and doctrine (Gal. 1; II Tim 4).  I think John P recognizes the importance of unity among such a responsible body, but he understands [I think] the local congregation NOT to be this responsible body, but rather the active followers of the elders--but merely followers.  A congregationalist on the other hand (as Baptists have traditionally been) understands that it is the congregation who must ultimately establish such issues. John P would NOT want such divisions on baptism in the body that he takes to be the final earthly adjudicatory--the elders--and neither would we Baptists.  The difference is, we think that body is the congregation as a whole, led by elders, yes, but only with the necessary and Biblical consent and cooperation of the congregation.  (So, in classic terms, John would be an independent, but not a congregationalist.)

Much more we could say here, but, reader, please keep in mind that this is written by one who loves John Piper, appreciates his ministry (see earlier blog post) and who is planning to have an Anglican Dean and a Presbyterian former Moderator of the General Assembly preach in his Baptist pulpit in the next few months.  There is a great unity in active cooperation, honoring, encouragement and love that is not broken by our lamentable temporary separation over local church membership.

Guys, comments?

In my head when I am thinking about the content of the gospel, I usually have the 6 frames from two ways to live in mind. These cover

1) Creation of man to live under God's loving rule
2) Sin as rebellion against God's rule.
3) Judgment
4) Penal Substitution
5) Resurrection & Enthronement of Christ
6) Response of Repentance & Faith.

Webb touched on only 1/2 out of 6 (he affirms the resurrection) on this score.

If this had been the answer that someone had given during a membership interview I was conducting, it would have sparked at least two major lines of questioning.

1) Why did Jesus have to die?

I would ask various follow up questions until I had heard several things
a) Human beings are sinful
b) God will punish all sin - we all therefore deserve hell.
c) Jesus died, taking the punishment that sinners deserve, so that all who trust in him will not be punished  for their own sin.

2) Will EVERYONE receive the benefits of Jesus' death and resurrection?

Again, I would ask follow up questions until I had heard that salvation is granted only to those who repent and believe.

Unless I heard clear answers in that direction, I would probably encourage someone to go over the gospel through a one on one bible study with a church member before recommending to the elders that we recommend this person to the congregation for membership.

Jonathan, I agree with you that Webb's statement of the gospel here is insufficient.  Of course, he's answering that question in the way alot of people these days are answering it.  Webb's answer is very similar to what I've seen in alot of "emergent" books, most notably Brian McLaren.  (It's not original, of course.  Alot of these guys say very clearly that they're learning from men like N.T. Wright, for example.)

I ran across an article some time ago by D.A. Carson called "Why Is the Doctrine of Penal Substitution Coming Under Attack Again?"  Here's his first reason:

In recent years it has become popular to sketch the Bible's story-line something like this: Ever since the fall, God has been active to reverse the effects of sin. He takes action to limit sin's damage; he calls out a new nation, the Israelites, to mediate his teaching and his grace to others; he promises that one day he will come as the promised Davidic king to overthrow sin and death and all their wretched effects. This is what Jesus does: he conquers death, inaugurates the kingdom of righteousness, and calls his followers to live out that righteousness now in prospect of the consummation still to come. Much of this description of the Bible's story-line, of course, is true. Yet it is so painfully reductionistic that it introduces a major distortion. It collapses human rebellion, God's wrath, and assorted disasters into one construct, namely, the degradation of human life, while depersonalizing the wrath of God. It thus fails to wrestle with the fact that from the beginning, sin is an offense against God.

I think that's exactly right.  And the upshot of it is that you wind up with very little place or function for the cross in the Gospel.  You can see that in Webb's statement very clearly:  Asked to explain the Gospel, the only mention he makes of the cross is the word "dying"---and that in the middle of a long list of other things that Jesus did besides.

Somehow that which Paul said is of "first importance" has been relegated to the category of "Oh yea, that too."

Welcome back to our program. Glad you could join us. We've all enjoyed the holiday.   

When I was in seminary, I discovered Caedmons Call and was grateful for an example of both good music and doctrinal meat. But signs of late, at least with Derek Webb, have not been as encouraging. In a podcast interview Derek recently did, the interview host asks him to succinctly define the gospel. Here's Derek's answer:

What a great question.  I guess I’d probably…my instinct is to say that it's Jesus coming, living, dying, and being resurrected and his inaugurating the already and the not yet of all things being restored to himself…and that happening by way of himself…the being made right of all things…that process both beginning and being a reality in the lives and hearts of believers and yet a day coming when it will be more fully realized.  But the good news, the gospel, the speaking of the good news, I would say is the news of his kingdom coming the inaugurating of his kingdom coming…that’s my instinct. 

In response, the interview host simply said "good."

Brothers, what are your thoughts? I presume Derek knows that he is stating the gospel differently than Reformed theologians have been stating it for a long time. Is this a "different gospel"? (If somehow Derek manages to find his way to this site, we'd be happy for him to address this question.)

I first thought of these blog entries back in January.  I had had a conversation or two with friends in which they asked my why I thought there was this resurgence of Calvinism among younger evangelicals.  Of course, theologically, the answer is “because of the sovereignty of God.”  But I’ve never been convinced by hyper-Calvinism’s argument that because God has determined the ends, the means don’t matter.  Means do matter.  And as a Christian, as an historian who had lived through the very change I was considering, I wondered what factors had been used by God.

Before I go further, I acknowledge that in this blog I depart from giving answers that even Arminian friends of mine could agree with.  (For more on how those of us who are more Reformed in our soteriology can work with the more Arminian see a blog I wrote recently over at the T4G website.) If my Arminian friends agree that this rise has happened/is happening, then there is no reason an Arminian should want to disagree about the effect of any of the previous nine influences I’ve noted.  They may lament such influences, but they need not dissent from my suggestions, at least not for theological reasons. 

This tenth and final influence that I note will be different.

When I doodled this list back in January, I tried to imagine the influences chronologically, like a picture slowly developing.  Under God, where did this come from, who's given it shape, lines, color?  From the background noise of respect for Spurgeon and the reprinting of his sermons to the latest conference John Piper has addressed or blog he’s written, I’ve tried to trace out this path from inside American evangelicalism for the last several decades.  This last influence that I suggest is, however, less immediately obvious.  But I think it has been increasingly present throughout the last part of the 20th century in America.  And I think it has shaped the “theological climate” in which weaker, more wan versions of Christianity pale and fade, and in which more uncut, vigorous versions thrive.  It is the rise of secularism and decline of Christian nominalism.

This may seem as unlikely as saying that the Great Awakening was caused by the Enlightenment, but I think there is actually a little more reason to suspect this observation of being true.  My fundamental thesis is this:  Arminianism is a theodicy.  That is, Arminianism tries to exculpate God from the problem of evil.  It tries to make sense of God in a world with sin and suffering.

Much as the modern Limitedness of God and Process thinking has tried to get God off the hook by redefining what God knows or is responsible for, so its earlier ancestor—Arminianism—with the best of motives (honoring God) desired to make sense of God.  (See Richard Mueller’s excellent study of Arminius, God, Creation, and Providence in the Thought of Jacob Arminius:  Sources and Directions of Scholastic Protestantism in the Era of Early Orthodoxy [Baker Book House:  Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1991] 309pp.)  In the course of constructing a theology and philosophy and of exegeting Scripture, Arminius & Co redefined term after term so as to both present God as the majestic being He so clearly is, and us as the responsible beings we so clearly are.  But they did this by reversing too many Biblical truths about who first chooses whom, and how specifically the choice is made, and to what end.

My point in this already too-long entry is not how much Arminianism changed, but how incomplete their labors were.  They said God hadn’t predestined and elected the way most earlier Protestant theologians understood Scripture to teach, but they didn’t say God couldn’t.  In a nominally Christian culture, Arminianism may appear to be a satisfying explanation of the problem of evil—“God’s good; it’s our fault”.  But as the acids of modernity have eaten away at more and more of the Bible’s teachings and even presuppositions about God, that answer is proving woefully insufficient to more radical critics.  It appears merely like moving the wrinkle in the carpet. A backslidden United Methodist may be satisfied with such teaching, but a Deist, a Buddhist or an atheist would have no reasons to be.  A. C. Grayling, Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris and their like will not for a moment be satisfied with someone saying “Well, God could have made this world without suffering, but in order to be loved with dignity by free beings, He decided He must allow such sin and suffering as we experience.”

Really?  Then hang being loved with dignity!  Forget the whole experiment!  It costs too much!   Furthermore, what kind of God NEEDS to be worshipped?  What kind of deity is this?!

And it’s this line of questioning that I think has quietly, deeply, perhaps subtly been re-shaping the field into one in which the half-measures of Arminianism are not even beginning to be satisfying.  They are attractive to fewer and fewer people.  Their adherents average age will grow even as their numbers shrink.  They will be recruited mainly from the churched, and perhaps even those who’ve nurtured grievances against God, for allowing this or that to happen.

Reformed theology, on the other hand, teaches about a god who is GOD.  The kind of objections that seem to motivate Arminianism are disallowed by the very presuppositions Calvinism understands the Bible to teach about God.  This God is sovereign and exercises His sovereignty.  This God is centered on Himself.  And this God is understood to be morally good in being so Self-centered.  In fact, it would be evil, wrong, deceptive for Him to be centered on anything other than His own glory.  There is no apology about this. 

This God saves to make His name known (read Exodus, or Ezekiel!).  This God has created us to display His own power and glory, His holiness and mercy to His creation.  Creation is a theatre for His glory.  This is the God of Genesis 1 and Revelation 22.  Even as the book of Revelation came not from John’s philosophical discussions in the king’s court, but from the crucible of persecution by worldly powers opposed to God, so this world’s increasingly open and categorical denials of God and His power will likely be met not by retreats, compromises, edits and revisions, but by awakenings and rediscoveries of the majesty and power of the true God who reveals Himself in the Bible, the God who made us and who will judge us, the God who in love pursued us even to the depths of the incarnation and humiliation of the cross.

This is Christianity straight and undiluted.  And the questing, probing spirit of the rising generation has, by this God’s grace, found this Rock.  May they stand upon it faithfully in these unbelieving times, until God calls them home to Himself. 

This is the one many of you have been waiting for.  You knew it was coming.

Love Your Enemies, published in 1979 was his dissertation from 5 years earlier.  Academically speaking, he's a New Testament scholar.  The Justification of God was published in 1983 from his teaching work, in part.  Professionally speaking, he had worked as a Biblical Studies professor.  But then, in 1986 a [gerund]-God book was published (like Knowing God, Loving God, Trusting God).  It was called Desiring God.  And with that book, pastor John Piper first put together for the reading public the adjective "Christian" with the noun "Hedonist." 

I remember when a friend first asked me about the book.  I had not read it.  And was both attracted and repelled by the thesis, as my friend enunciated it.  As the years have rolled on, and I have read not only it, but most of the books that the pastor of Bethlehem Baptist Church in Minneapolis, MN, has written, I find myself repeatedly taken with the power and goodness of God and His Gospel in Piper's words.  John has a Puritan-like ability to stare at an idea unflinchingly, watch it, and then watch it some more, interrogate it, and then draw implications out of it that are both convincing and surprising, and maybe even startling! 

John has taken his Jonathan Edwards-inspired meditations and published them on many different aspects of life and ministry--preaching, missions, suffering.  His books, Desiring God Ministries, the many conferences he speaks at, all have made him probably the single most potent factor in this most recent rise of Reformed theology. 

I hesitate to write that. 

All the factors that I have mentioned before John and his work I do think are part of the explanation.  But they are part of the explanation for how the wave, if you will, became so deep, so large, so overwhelming, but they were happening unnoticed, in the 1960's and 1970's and 1980's--all preparing the ground, shifting the discourse, preparing the men--like John--who would be leaders in this latest resurgence.  But it has been John who is the swelling wave hitting the coast.  It is John who is the visible expression of many of these earlier men.  His Desiring God Ministries is the conduit through whom so many of these others who have preceded him now find their work mediated to the rising generation.

Why John Piper?  What explains the power of his ministry?  All unction about God's truth comes from God.  All fructifying of our labors comes from God.  But, in terms of human observations, what sets John's labors off from those of so many others of us?  Theological precision meeting up with spiritual, life-consuming passion.  A profound hope imparting a serious joy leading to satisfying sacrifice.

The starkness of John's statements, the uncompromising nature of his sermons' calls and claims have captivated this supposedly word-weary generation.  John may have turned 60 not too long ago, but his discipleship, his Bible reading, and his preaching and writing have more of the freshness of the young convert's "anything, God, anything you ask of me" than they do of professorial overstuffed leather chairs with a retirement account to protect. 

If nothing else, when he preaches, John makes it clear that the sovereignty of God he's talking about is not the sovereignty of some musty philosophical argument.  No, it's the kind of dangerous sovereignty that means God may demand anything--or everything--from you at any time.  (And God will never demand as much as He's already given.)  And it's the kind of comforting sovereignty which points us to God's kind providential care of his own, and which allows the believer to get through some otherwise desperate nights by considering Christ's love at Calvary.

When everyone else has been out polling to see what people want to hear, or at least how they want to hear it, John has been meditating on Romans, and his own heart, and life as he sees and knows it.  And he has been unsparing in reporting what he finds, whether it has to do with the greatness of God, or the foolishness of our own tiny goals and ambitions.

When all those seminarians and ministers in their 20's stood up at Together for the Gospel in April of 2006, if I couldn't give a 10-part answer, but if I had to give a 2-word human explanation for their presence there, I know what two words I would utter: "John Piper."