Unsettled Christianity

One blog to rule them all, One blog to find them, One blog to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
January 9th, 2013

Book Review: “A Jigsaw Guide to Making Sense of the World” @IVPress

 

I just finished Alex McLellan’s “A Jigsaw Guide to Making Sense of the World” (IVP 2012)

McLellan is the Founder and Executive Director of Reason Why International, a Bible teaching and apologetics ministry. He also serves as an associate with Ravi Zacharias International Ministries and Josh McDowell Ministries, giving presentations at churches, camps, colleges, and schools.

McLellan obviously knows a few things about talking to non-Christians about the gospel. In fact, the biggest strength of this book is that the ideas presented in it are clearly and cleverly explained; you could give this book to any of your friends and there’s nothing in it that they wouldn’t understand—and they’d have a smile on their face the whole time.

While the book isn’ perfect (the use of the pun “truth decay” should be a punishable offense), it’s entertaining, insight, and occasionally even brilliant. And  I wouldn’t hesitate to give it to my seeker friends.

Click here for a more detailed review.

January 7th, 2013

Review of @ivpress’s, A Book of Prayers by Arthur A. R. Nelson

When my wife first picked this book up, she flipped through the pages and discovered just what it was. Her response was one that sold me on such works, and perhaps just a little bit on this one. Written through experience by  Arthur A.R. Nelson, many times a pastor and former dean of North Park University and Seminary in Chicago, the reader will see this book is for you and me.

This is not simply a minister’s handbook on prayer, although it does include prayers for necessities such as weddings, baptisms, and funerals, but equally for those times and days, seasons if you will, when the Christian’s walk is disjointed in some way, and a prayer is what helps. In this spirit, then, Nelson does not give us long, flowering psalms of the person disguised as prayer, but short statements from an overwhelmed heart.

We might turn up our nose at written prayer — I have heard many dismiss the written prayer as some how interfering with God’s Spirit. Yet, we say the Lord’s prayer, we say our liturgical stanzas, we read the Psalms. All of these things are written so that we might call up the community’s experiences to help us in our individual moments of dispair or in our not-so-solitary worship. Look at this work in the same way. Nelson did not just commit pen to paper to craft words like a student who attends a pottery class believing he is some artist. No, Nelson has poured himself and his experiences with life’s cumbersome ways to produce a short miracle. Any short internet search of the author — I admit, I do this so as to not judge any author too easily — reveals that he has waged many a spiritual battle and helped, either as pastor or dean, others to navigate their bark.

When my wife picked this up for the first time, her glances lingered longer than mine. She read more pages than I did. I received it, read the insert, and put in on the entry table. She looked at it and held it in her hands. After a moment or three, she  sounded almost relieved to say that she would use a book like this because she does not know what to say in prayers and indeed who really does? Thus, to draw upon another’s experience, to open the full wealth of a communal bank of overcoming, is to propel oneself into a better walk, a better prayer life. We must all start somewhere, and even the most experienced prayer warriors will come to find that this short book, this breathless take at calming our minds before God, is welcomed.

December 6th, 2012

@ivpacademic Review: Incarnational Humanism: A Philosophy of Culture for the Church in the World (Strategic Initiatives in Evangelical Theology)

incarnational humanism

Click to Order

I fear our world has become too materialistic to continue to revel in our shared humanity — too concerned for the show rather than the image. Our author, Jens Zimmermann, is attempting to combat the genesis of my fears, it seems, and has done so with previous publications focusing, or rather refocusing, on humanism from the Christian perspective.

Zimmermann’s premise is at once breathtaking and simple. He will assert in a theological fashion that orthodox Christology remains the single best hope for incorporating a truly humanistic understanding of our community (10). In the preface there are hints of a much deeper philosophy here, based on the entirety of the Christian Tradition with a focus on the Catholic writers in particular (he moves from Irenaeus to de Lubac in short order). By the end of the preface we are introduced to the theological Logos, dualism, and Bonhoeffer (a theologian with the heart of a Catholic, I and his biographer would venture). Zimmermann’s goal, then, is better understood “not (as) an uncritical recovery of a certain Christian metaphysics” but to regain “a radically different theological notion of reality, a notion by which earlier Christians achieved a holistic view of the Christian life (13).” This, Zimmermanns suggests, will regain some moral fortitude in our increasingly inhuman society.

Why is this needed? Zimmermann sees a world turning to a humanism without God, and as has happened in the recent past, such a philosophy is doomed to bring destruction upon those we can easily consider inhuman. God, Zimmermann unashamedly insists, belongs at the forefront of humanism. This case is made through the incarnation of the logos, God become man in Jesus, so that all of humanity is elevated through participation in the divine. However, with the increased secularization of the West (and he does not mean the Fox News version of secularists and the War on Christmas, but an intrinsic secularization seeping even into our churches), we are losing not just God, but humanity as well. Not all is lost, however. Zimmermann has watched secularism implode (43). He has also watched how national leaders, even in the arch-secular France, have increasingly come to realize the danger of the West relying too much on a scientific philosophy rather than a God-centered humanism. Zimmermann is correct to note as well that this rather cold philosophy is found in fundamentalism, a term he applies to Christians, Muslims, and Scientists alike. This is the goal of the first chapter, to establish the social context upon which Zimmermann with stand to examine and then to proclaim. It is a dark social context to be sure, but one we see increasingly played out in front of our eyes. Again.

The second chapter establishes the theological underpinnings of Christian humanism, rather the Christological, as well as the history of the philosophy that reaches back into hallow patristic antiquity. Christian humanism has two sacraments — deification and the eucharist. Yes, humanism of the metaphysical variety, reaches back to Plato, but because of both the Eastern and the Western Churches the anchoring of humanism, the philosophy of the human, is based upon Christ in the incarnation and thus, exists outside the normal confines of our spheres of influence. Because of this anchoring, the drive to better ourselves is a desire to achieve theosis, a Christian ideal. This is what once drove us, Zimmermann insists. The third chapter, with a discussion on medeval and Renaissance, becomes the examples of how a rediscovery of an incarnational humanism propelled the West and likewise, how the Western Church decided that such a philosophy was an anchor that prevented movement rather than one that protected against the storm. Contrary to popular myths, Christianity and its narrative of humanism in the West is what drove the scientific revolutions along with a few more revolutions, or perhaps, Reformations. I must note that the silencing of the narrative did not occur over night, but then again, evil only takes hold when a society aggressively becomes apathetic.

So, how did we move from a humanism anchored to God to a humanism that is nothing more than a philosophy aimed at making us inhuman? Zimmermann’s fourth and fifth chapters cover this. The fourth traces the development of the German enlightenment as it brought down an God-anchored humanism while the fifth shows how the heart of the West, Europe, finalized the separation of God and human ideals. If we step back and look at the timeline Zimmermann has produced, we see that much more clearly the horrors he suggets in his preface — the horrors that come from moving the focus and anchor of humanism away from God — the horrors that allowed one well-known philosophy to dismiss Christ and accept Nazism. However, in the examination, he is still fair, even if he knows the conclusion. For instance, in Zimmermann’s examination of Heidegger, the philosophy is given a treatment showing a more complete picture of his thought, both negative and positive (189-199). No baby is cast out with any bathwater. But, it is in this chapter especially we see where the most destructive force, one that shaped the twentieth century, first begins — when we become the universal by which we judge rather than exist as the judged. The fifth chapter, then, shows how someone (Vattimo) attempted to recover from this horror, but came close because the basic lexicon remained the same (261).

The sixth chapter moves from German-shaped Enlightenment philosophy to German-led theology. His epigram is from Karl Barth, but on the pages are Bonhoeffer (the quote on 264 seems to be a guiding theme for the entirety of this and his other words). He quickly returns to his first themes, that of dualism. He successfully argues throughout the book that the dualism proposed by later secular humanists is unnatural; here, he urges for a natural humanism, one that does not separate the secular and the sacred. He pulls out Bonhoeffer’s argument of a “realistic responsibility.” Our Christian life, then, so intertwined with this world, must not follow platitudes, but strive for the ideal. We have lost this, Zimmermann argues, over the course of the last few centuries, but we can retrieve it, and perhaps, I would argue, more so in a secular world. His final chapter is a deeply theological setpiece where we see all of his interwoven thoughts finally come together.

This book is one of the most profound books to deal with the issue of the declining moral foundation of the West. We have thought too much, it seems, and to retrieve that which we have lost while preventing the inhuman futures awaiting us like wolves the hobbled rabbit, we must return to the intellectual foundation provided for us through patristic interpretations of Plato. Zimmerman does not simply state the problem, outline the dangers, and suggest we return to God as if he was poorly imitating an Old Testament prophet; what this author does is to go into minute detail of where we, where we have come from, while warning us of were we are going not just with insincere fear-mongering, but with latent examples the author and the audience know all too well. He then proposes through the same method a path to return, to reset, our humanistic endeavors.

This book demands your reading.

November 15th, 2012

Defeat your friends in theological arguments with @ivppocketref

Ever been in an argument and you are like dude you keep using that word but I don’t you know what it means. And the guy is like yeah well you can’t prove me wrong.

And you’re like hey you baptist watch this:

20121115-140046.jpg

From there, you can go here…

20121115-140117.jpg

And bam… You’ve just won the language.

November 15th, 2012

The @IVPress / @IVPPocketRef iOS app is now available

Screen Shot 2012-11-15 at 9.09.47 AM

Go here.

November 1st, 2012

And the winner is… @ivpress @garynealhansen

First, I want to thank Dr. Hansen for his interview.

And the winner is…

Screen Shot 2012-11-01 at 9.29.20 AM

The rules – contact me and let me know how you want a copy – BTW, the Kindle comes with something added, I think.

And, I think that this may be one of the books I giveaway again. So, stay tuned.

Of course, I’m feeling generous, so if I get a comment about why you NEED this book…

October 29th, 2012

Interview with @GaryNealHansen, author of Kneeling with Giants @ivpress

kneeling with giants

Click to Order

Dr. Hansen, thank you for agreeing to do this blog-aview. 

Thank you for the invitation, Joel–I’m honored.  And you can call me Gary.  I tell my students that the only time they have to call me Dr. Hansen is when they are asking for an extension on a paper.

What was the inspiration for this book?

I listened carefully and discovered that many many Christians have prayer lives that are far short of what they want them to be; or what they need to be for growth and health.  Prayer is the rock bottom essential of the Christian life–Calvin calls it “the chief work of faith” and for him that is saying a lot.  But most people only know one approach to prayer, whether they came up with it on their own or learned it from their pastor.  If that falls flat they may give up.  Some conclude they just are not “the praying type”.  Others conclude Christianity is the problem; they move over to “spiritual but not religious” and start looking elsewhere for something to feed their souls.

Since I was a high school student I’ve been reading what historians call “primary sources,” aka “old books by dead people.”  I read the greats of the past to find mentors and wisdom for my spiritual life, and along the way I found a wide range of approaches to prayer.  It struck me that more people need to know the many authentically Christian ways of praying that are out there.  And I noticed that a  great many books on prayer answer every question except “How do I do it?” I thought it could be really useful to introduce prayer through practice rather than through theology.

God gave each of us our own personality, and we tend to relate to other human beings differently:

Some people sit with their best friend in a café and talk talk talk, pouring out every detail in words, and the relationship deepens.

Some people sit with their best friend in a boat and fish fish fish, never saying a word, and the relationship deepens.

The cafe people and the fishing boat people are going to relate to God differently–and I wrote Kneeling with Giants to help them find ways of prayer that can take them deeper than they have gone before.

You have a lot of different, shall we say, types of people in this book. You go from St. Benedict to Calvin to the Puritans to Andrew Murray. First, is there a favorite of these? Second, what do think is the constant theme in each of these Christian lives?

It is very hard to pick from the ten who make up the chapters of the book.  I love all my children the most–I just love each of them differently.

That said, St. Benedict looms large for me.  Of course there is very little written by Benedict to draw on: just his Rule, and quotations in Gregory the Great’s biography from a good bit later.  But praying the way Benedict taught is wonderful preparation for all the others.  Not all my readers like the fact that I put the Benedict chapter first, but this is why I did.  Rather than starting with something readers would find easy or familiar I started with one that would be a good foundation to build on.

As to themes held in common I would say that all the people in the book share a conviction that prayer is supremely important to authentic Christian life and discipleship.  One can find a number of things linking various figures in the book, including use of the Lord’s Prayer or the Psalms, honest self-examination, or the contemplative gaze.  But they all had prayer as a key aspect of their identity as disciples, and a crucial way of framing their vocation.

I am greatly interested in The Cloud of Unknowing. It is one of those books that warms the soul to Christian mysticism. Why did you include this work and have you had any other feedback about it? 

I included The Cloud of Unknowing for a couple reasons.

First, I love the book.  So much of what one hears today about prayer has to do with feelings–many are convinced that if God is present we will know it by our senses, and many assume that having lots of groovy feelings while praying is progress or maturity.  The anonymous 14th-century author of The Cloud says no: Your feelings are part of creation, and God is not part of creation.  Anything you can feel with your senses is not really God.  This is excellent news for those of us who pray a lot and feel absolutely nothing in return.  For the  author of The Cloud, feeling nothing is exactly right.  That is right where you should stay, with your full attention on the God who is beyond your senses, your words, and your imagination.

Second, it perfectly fits the profile of topics I set up for the book.  To be included as one of my “giants” one had to either explicitly teach or prominently practice a distinctive way of praying.  The Cloud of Unknowing teaches a form of contemplative prayer, and does so simply and directly.  The word “contemplative” gets thrown around pretty loosely today, but The Cloud’s way of praying is just about the definition.  Contemplation is about looking, turning the gaze of the heart and soul toward God, and that is what prayer comes down to here.  No words, no pictures, just gazing at a God who can’t be seen — thus the cloud image.

And for both of these reasons I think it can be really helpful to people who might otherwise never hear about it.

You also asked about feedback I’d had on this.  Only a little from readers so far, though one who was not drawn to this way of praying thought I did a good job of presenting it winsomely.  I have lots of feedback from teaching this material though, and I know it is one of the hardest approaches for people to wrap their minds around.  Still, though many stumble on it, The Cloud of Unknowing is life-changing for others.

What do you commonly pray about?

Everything.

Some of the prayer practices that have shaped me most push me toward an openness and breadth in prayer that I think is healthy.

One is The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence, a 17th-century Carmelite. A Young Life leader introduced me to it when I was a teenager.   Brother Lawrence’s way of praying started with a radical commitment to be aware that he was in the presence of God, and this led to prayer as a constant conversation with God about every detail of living.

Another is the “Divine Office,” the cycle of prayer services as practiced in Benedictine monasticism and simplified in the Anglican tradition in the Book of Common Prayer.  When I pray Morning Prayer, as was my habit for years, the service takes me through a whole range of practices and topics.  Instead of sticking to my pet peeves and ruts, I am forced to confess my sins, hear the Good News of forgiveness, praise and lament with the Psalms, and intercede for others.

I don’t pray for everything well, but I am grateful for ways of prayer that help me to bring everything into the conversation.

You are a professor, correct? What are your classes like when it gets to this subject?

I teach at the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary and offer a two-semester course on the ways of prayer I present in the book.  What are these classes like?  For me they are FANTASTIC!  I went into theological education hoping to journey with students as they grow in Christ and prepare for ministry, and that is absolutely what happens in my prayer class.  It is a great privilege–prayer is a very intimate thing, and here is a group of ten or twenty people sharing openly about what they experience in prayer, how they are growing in prayer, and how they will bring classic approaches to prayer into their ministry.

It gives me hope.  These people are going to go out into the church, or a para-church ministry, or some other missional context, and they are going to bring this with them.  They will have practical and academic knowledge of ways of praying that can keep them growing and alive in ministry.  And when they minister to people who are very different from their own personality they can say “Let me tell you about a way to approach prayer that might really be a fit for you.”

Does prayer change as we get older? Should it? 

I hope so.  As I get older I’ve been relating to God longer, so the relationship and the conversation should be growing richer.

I am not sure whether certain practices of prayer are better suited to different ages.  My attention has been more focused on how people of different personalities are drawn to different ways of praying.

I can certainly say, though, that prayer can change according to the season of life one is in.  When I got married the ways I prayed and the topics I needed to pray about shifted–not completely, but noticeably.  When our children were born both of our prayer lives changed.  I had far less ability to include the Daily Office in my routine, but surprisingly my wife began to pray the Office more than before–she found the iBreviary app for her iPod, and she could pray it when she was nursing.

The key is to have a broad enough knowledge of what authentic Christian prayer can be.  That way when your life changes, and you can’t pray the old way, there are new ways there waiting for you.

You deal a lot with the Mystics in this book, or those so inclined. Any chance of a future book devoted just to Christian mysticism? 

I have not been planning a book on Christian mysticism, though I’d love to hear your ideas for how I might make a particular contribution on the topic.  It is a great subject–some of the most important theological writers in history have written on what we today call “mysticism” as well as on what we call “doctrine.”

Protestants in particular need to know more about mysticism, but it is an uphill battle since prominent voices have written it off as unhelpful or even non-Christian.  Mysticism is the direct encounter of the human being with the living God; Anyone who tells you Christianity is a relationship with God while denying the validity of mysticism misunderstands one or the other.

Kneeling with Giants includes some prominent mystics, such as Teresa of Ávila and The Cloud of Unknowing.  But of Teresa’s three major works I chose the least mystical because I wanted to emphasize her teaching on one particular practice of prayer, what she calls “recollection.”  But any form of prayer taken seriously and in depth is aimed at bringing you close to God, and that can lead to encounters that will best be described as mystical.

I read a good many mystics, but most were not a good fit for the book.  That is, though they describe rich encounters with God, or teach things that result from those encounters, not many teach distinctive ways of praying.  To take just one example, Hildegard of Bingen is a very popular mystic. (Also nearly impenetrable, but that’s another topic.)  She was a Benedictine, an Abbess.  One has to assume that one of her main ways of praying was the Divine Office.  The distinctive part comes in that her visions apparently came in the midst of migraine headaches.  That is not a method easy, or desirable, to emulate.

What are some of the struggles students have when they first really learn how to pray?

Even when people are introduced to an approach to prayer that seems to be just right for them, they still face all the ordinary struggles.  They have to figure out how to make it a regular part of their day.  They have to get past their wandering thoughts and distractions.  They have to keep at it despite the fact that something else always feels like more fun.  They have to bring their whole selves to the task rather than letting it be something they do without really showing up.  And they need to exercise the compassion with themselves that they would show to someone they really liked–it is not always going to go smoothly, and they have to be patient.

Is prayer natural? 

I should take a page from Jesus’ playbook and answer your question with a question: Is marriage natural?

Just like wanting to be married, wanting to pray is natural.

Just like growing a good marriage, being able to pray takes a great deal of effort.

As Augustine tells us, we are made for God and our hearts are restless until we rest in him.  At the core of our being we need to pray, and on a daily basis we are in need of what only God has to offer–so we call out in prayer.

But here we are, with hearts and minds damaged by sin, and our lives shaped by a culture that doesn’t value prayer or make room for it. We find ourselves not knowing how to start or what to say.  Or we find ourselves drawn to check Facebook and Twitter whenever we try to sit down to pray.  Or the demands of family and work exhaust us so that if a quiet moment presents itself we fall asleep.  And when we do start a serious practice of prayer, being in the presence of God sometimes shines a bright light on all the stuff in our lives that we have been trying so hard to push into the shadows.

In a sense prayer is as simple, as elemental, as Anne Lamott’s “Help!” “Thanks!” and “Wow!”  But growing in prayer takes ongoing effort.  Just like in marriage, you have to keep showing up, finding the habits and structures that help, finding ways to grow close, be open, listen–and you have to keep at it during the times when it is painful and boring, as well as when it is fun.

As a Wesleyan, and really a not-Calvinist, I have to say that I really enjoyed your section on Calvin. This really opens up a different angle on viewing the Reformer — one that is a bit more pastoral. Do you find that, when you look at people — their lives, writings, etc. — that your view changes if you find that at the very heart of the person is a life of prayer? 

Yes, looking to a theologian’s practice of prayer or writings on prayer is a great way to find out that he or she is really human.  This would be the case with Ambrose, Anselm, and Aquinas–just to take “Theologians beginning with A” for our category.

On the other hand, while poking into the history of the person’s life and character through their writings is always illuminating, it is not always edifying.  Many are the cases of important figures in the history of the Church who were wise and influential but who were also more fun to read than to have dinner with.  Often, though, where unpleasant or unscrupulous things turn up one also sees virtue–courage is a virtue, and one that is needed in ministry today.  But acting courageously often leads to looking arrogant or stepping on some toes.  Even seeing the unhappy and all-too-human parts of the story can be encouraging, since it reminds us that God has always used genuine, and therefore flawed, people.

Actually many people’s views of Calvin improve the more of his actual writings they read.  He has received a very bad rap.  Reading his theology in the Institutes, can be a great experience.  Many Christians find him a kindred spirit when they see that his aim is to articulate the coherent consistent message of the whole of Scripture, topic by topic.  He does not impose a system, and he is not trained as an academic theologian.  This shows best if one starts with the recently translated 1541 French edition (mid-career and adapted slightly to a lay readership) rather than the more commonly known 1559 edition.  Any preacher would benefit from reading Calvin’s biblical commentaries, since he always focuses on the questions of theology and discipleship rather than straining out gnats and swallowing camels.

Dr. Hansen, one last question before we go. What is your prayer?

My prayer is that God would use Kneeling with Giants to help many, many people take prayer far more seriously than they ever have before.  I long for people to stop thinking of prayer as something optional, part of their “devotional life” as if that were separate from their real daily living as people who follow Christ.  I long for people to see prayer as the area they have to invest in so that they can become the people God intends them to be–ready to join what God is doing in the world.

Please feel free to include any final thoughts here you would want the readers to know about you, the book, and a life of prayer. 

When I’m not teaching in our residential and (fully accredited) distance M.Div. and Master of Arts in Missional Christianity programs you will find me enjoying my wife and kids. On the weekend we’re probably stocking up on local produce at the Dubuque Farmer’s Market and cooking it up for friends.

I have a soon-to-be-reactivated blog (www.withgiants.com) where I explore the riches of the past for the sake of being wise in the present and future of the Church.  I also am taking baby steps with Facebook (Gary Neal Hansen) and Twitter (@garynealhansen).  I always prefer to meet people face to face, and love to speak at churches, conferences, and retreats.

Thanks for asking as you did about “…the book, and a life of prayer.”  That is what it is all about–investing our lives in prayer so prayer becomes as unconsciously important as breathing.

If you lead a small group or adult class, make sure you check out the two appendices in Kneeling with Giants where you will find resources for studying and praying through all or parts of it with others.  And if you really want to study these ways of praying, buy the e-book version (available through Amazon, IVP, and elsewhere) because it includes a free companion volume, The Kneeling with Giants Reader: Writings on Prayer by History’s Best Teachers. There is a full chapter of primary source material to accompany each chapter of Kneeling with Giants.

Oh, and Kneeling with Giants makes an outstanding Christmas gift.  Your uncle would love it.  So would your cousin.

Thank you.

Thank you Joel!  You know, you have the best byline on your blog with that Lord of the Rings riff, “One blog to rule them all…”  Always makes me smile.

October 29th, 2012

Video Book Recommendation – @garynealhansen, Kneeling with Giants – @ivpress

kneeling with giants

Click to Order

October 26th, 2012

@ivpacademic REVIEW: Christ-Centered Biblical Theology: Hermeneutical Foundations and Principles

christ-centered biblical theology

Click to Order

Goldsworthy, Graeme. Christ-Centered Biblical Theology: Hermeneutical Foundations and Principles. IVP Academic, 2012.

Kevin J. Vanhoozer, in his endorsement of the book, praises the Australian school of biblical theology against the lack of one in North America. He laments the fragmentation of biblical theology, and I assume, of course he means here. No doubt, this is the case, with some following this one or that some following that one, and some following no one but themselves. If there is one singular value in this book — and there are many — then it is that an evangelical Anglican scholar from Australia has completely showed American biblical theologians how proper biblical theology is done.

Upon first reading Graeme Goldsworthy’s self-introduction in this book, I found it refreshing that an author could trace his theological ancestry as far as he did. After reading the book, I realize that this theological family tree is part and parcel with Goldsworthy overarching scheme of biblical theology. His theological descent is whole, complete, and traceable, without any areas of gray, much like his description of biblical theology. Equally so is his insistence in both realms on a Christ-centered approach. This is one of the most striking features of the book – the focus on every act of Scripture centered on Christ. This becomes almost polemical in denying the contributions of Abelard and others of the moral exemplar view, but taken in context of how Goldsworthy views biblical theology, one can understand the often over the top insistence that all others are liberals. Goldsworthy sees Christ as the goal of Scripture, and any hint of deviation riles him.

The book is systematically divided into eleven chapters where he dogmatically tackles the topics of biblical theology. After a sound introduction of fact rather than philosophy, Goldsworthy honestly lays out the need for presuppositions while doing biblical theology as well as what those presuppositions are. This is important for the casual reader and the measured investigator alike; after all, if you do not know your foundation, how else can you continue? Once this is done, Goldsworthy launches into what is bound to make many upset — that the Old Testament is really a Christian-looking document completed only by the New Testament. Investigating what the Germans call Heilsgesschichte, or salvation history, Goldworthy establishes his view that the Kingdom of God, rather than any particular doctrine (such as the dogmaticists would propose) is the core of Scripture. This chapter is followed by one on Evangelical Practice, which I suspect would better serve the reader if it preceded the previous chapter, or arrived near the end of the book. Regardless of placement, it is Goldsworthy’s most humble chapter as he declares that no evangelical biblical theology “can claim to have the final word on the matter (98).” Granted, he does not advocate for a multifaceted view, such as the one advocated by Craig Evans (See Craig A. Evans in Porter, Stanley E., and Beth M. Stovell, eds. Biblical Hermeneutics: Five Views. IVP Academic, 2012 — my review here) but this should help, at least, with allowing that Goldsworthy does not think himself above question  – he just doesn’t believe in a unity in diversity amalgamation, as discussed in chapter 5. The next several chapters examine the progressive revelation and typological theology that must accompany biblical theology as Goldsworthy reads the Old and New Testaments. He finishes with a chapter on Robinson (his teacher) and Hebert’s typological theology as well as a chapter on application.

I clearly disagree with many of the elements of this book; however, several positive attributes stand out. First, Goldsworthy knows and believes what he says. In my discussions with North Americans who claim to be biblical theologians, I have yet to find anyone who meets the intellectual capabilities of Goldsworthy. His intellectual honesty, especially in laying out the presuppositions, and this dogmatic grasp of those presuppositions is quite frankly rewarding. His focus on Christ is one that must call all theologians to reexamine their commitment to the historical confessions of the Christian faith. His focus on thematic material such as the Kingdom of God and the notion of revelation will interest more than it turns off. For theological writers, his style is one to be mimicked. It speaks easily to the reader, as if you are in a one on one conversation with the author. Even the footnotes are succinct.

Finally, Goldsworthy shows the aptness of doing biblical theology. This is not my theology, but the inventive methodology Goldsworthy proposes and applies is one that connects all strands of Scripture together. Whether or not it is forced, as some may suspect, it is nevertheless a consistent theme for the author and in this consistency, we find remarkable clarity.

The beauty of this book is this: regardless of the near diatribic nature of his views on any other times of theology, or against those who see (even sometimes) moral exemplary roles and his rather forceful views on certain dogmas that many post-modern Christians will find troublesome, what Goldsworthy has produced is a book that restores the confidence of the biblical theologian and challenges other Christian theologians to always keep their theology Christ centered.

October 25th, 2012

Thinking Out Loud through Christ-Centered Biblical Theology – Christology @ivpacademic

christ-centered biblical theology

Click to Order

One of the charges made early in the book, in an attempt to justify biblical theology, is that no other theology is as Christ-centered as the one Goldsworthy suggests. This is not just a hyperbolic play to disparage other theologies, because in some cases, this is the case. However, is biblical theology the only theology that is Christ-centered?

There are generally four types of theology (not counting abhorrent and aberrant theologies). Systematic theology lists topics according to a broad overview, with each building upon the other. Historical theology pays attention to the past, to reception history, and to context. Philosophical theology builds the mind of the theologian and helps to argue for universal truths. And of course, there is biblical theology (See here for something more to this conversation). Biblical theology interprets Scripture by Scripture, without context or reliance upon Tradition. Further, it is presuppositional, and thus finds itself anchorless in determining universal truths.

However, Goldsworthy is making a very apt case for the Christ-centeredness of biblical theology. It is this that moves me to consider heavily Goldsworthy’s claims. The Christian theologian must remain Christ-centered; I fear other theologies tend to dispense with Christ until after a certain theology has been laid. Of course, biblical theology dispenses with historical theology and philosophical theology in its presuppositions. No theology can remain Christian unless it is first grounded in Christ, and what is more, in the divinity of Christ (regardless of how you choose to interpret it). I disagree with Goldsworthy about first making sure Scripture is seen as the Word of God, or that theologians must first believe it is inspired. Yes, I believe it is inspired, but only as far as the author of 2 Timothy meant that word. However, I suspect – and this is not confirmed – the meaning of Goldsworthy at this juncture is too close to the normative evangelical use of the word. Not just inspired or inspiring, but inerrant and infallible. This worries me because it tends to move the historical Jesus out of the picture. Thus, historical theology, in my opinion, trumps biblical theology here.

Just thinking out loud…

October 24th, 2012

Thinking Out Loud through Christ-Centered Biblical Theology @ivpacademic

christ-centered biblical theology

Click to Order

I enjoy books that challenge the basic presuppositions I have in regards to anything. Perhaps this is why I like to read the New Atheists and Calvinists. And why, even when I am opposed in practice to the field of biblical theology, I feel that I can read this book with my usual objectivity. Graeme Goldsworthy, in the first few pages, has introduced himself as one who accurately knows his tradition and theological underpinnings. Regardless of how the reader feels about biblical theology, you have to respect someone who is so entrenched in his field that he or she can trace their line of theological scaffolding to the first pronouncers.

In reading the first several chapters, what strikes me the most about biblical theology is two fold. First, it is one that focuses wholly on the received Scripture. This is not exactly canonical theism, because it has a much more Reformed air to it; however, it does focus on the whole of Scripture as a set of narratives and repeated acts. This is a good thing; even I can admit that. In Greco-Roman writings, the imitation allow stories to be preserved while some authors practiced imitation to build a canon. The same principle may be seen in reading the Old and New Testaments. The later writers added to the existing canon (of tradition) in a way to imitate, preserve, and stretch previous stories. This is a positive attribute because it allows the modern believer to connect in some way to the stories in our faith tradition.

However, the down side of this is that we see Scripture too much. Do not mistake me for a heretic here; I simply mean that Scripture becomes too focused on what we believe it says rather than allowing it to be read by the individual authors and heard by the individual audiences. For example, Goldsworthy, must to the chagrin of the scholarly insight, believes that the Old Testament in every narrative can point to Christ in some way, but only through the Reformed model. He tells of a story regarding a sermon about David and Goliath. It is not about the service of David, but about the sacrifice made in substitution. So, then, doctrine must, by logic, procede Scripture because only through the proper doctrine can we interpret Scripture. Such as the penal substitutionary atonement model, a model I oppose on a regular basis. While as a Christian I believe that Christ fulfills the narrative of the Old Testament (and therefore, I await with great interest his chapter on Jesus as the New Israel), I still find it less than attractive that Goldsworthy views the Old Testament as completely pointing to Christ in every way. Add to these objections is the objection that it would seem that biblical theologians look for larger patterns rather than taking all pieces together although this is counter to their principle.

What is most refreshing is Goldsworthy writing style. Plain spoken with only a few flourishes, the author speaks directly to the reader, continuously.

Note, this is not a review just yet. Just thinking out loud