Monday, September 29, 2008

How do I know that I'm really saved?


I'm currently reading George Marsden's huge biography on Jonathan Edwards and I hope to do book-report entry when I'm done (if that time ever comes!). There was something, however, that I found interesting as I learned more about certain controversies that were floating around in Edward's day concerning the sacraments and who were admissible to them.  
When Edward's was a young man, there began to be popularized a concept known as the "half-way covenant." This was where the children of non-communicant members were still given the sacrament of baptism in infancy. This practice gained a fairly wide acceptance even among conservative ministers like Jonathan's father, Rev. Timothy Edwards.  
The next major development in this time period was when Jonathan's maternal grandfather, Rev. Solomon Stoddard, began to argue in favor of administering communion to those who demonstrated a pious life, but who, nevertheless, had not become full communicant members.  He spoke of the Lord's Supper being a "converting ordinance." Jonathan Edwards would come to disagree with his grandpa's practice when he took over his pastorate in Northhampton. 
Who was right in all of this? I used to think that Solomon Stoddard was a bit of a wacko speaking of the Lord's Supper in this way (what else should we do with Paul's language in I Corinthians 11:28ff?).  Yet, while I still think that Stoddard's idea is unbiblical, I can see why he would do it.  This is because conservatives such as Timothy and Jonathan Edawards, as well as Increase and Cotton Mather, had an equally unbiblical and detrimental view on who should be admitted to membership.  
New England Puritanism had devolved to the extent that there was such an emphasis placed upon personal experience that many, no doubt, true believers lacked the assurance of salvation.  There was a certain pattern that all who were truly converted were to experience.  First, they were to be "awakened" to the eternal realities and the majesty of God.  Next, they were to be tormented, as it were, concerning their own sin and depravity.  This process, known as "Law Work" could last for days, months, or even years!  At this stage, however, there still is no saving grace or assurance of pardon for these individuals. What was sought and finally required for one to be truly sure of their salvation (and therefore to be made full communicant members of their church) was an intense and sudden conversion experience where the individual just knew that he or she was saved.  Even Jonathan Edwards himself did not think he was really saved until he was a grad student at Yale, even though he was raised in a Christian home and never showed any major sinful behavior.  
If we were to follow this criteria (sadly many do to this day), I wonder how many of us would be assured of our salvation... I know I wouldn't.  The reason I know I have eternal life is primarily because of the work of Christ.  I do not need any intense and sudden conversion experiences.  I have faith, as far as I remember I always have, and by the grace of God, I always will.  

Friday, September 26, 2008

Southern Presbyterian

I recently read a bio on the life of Robert Lewis Dabney by Sean Michael Lucas. This book is part of a series called "American Reformed Biographies," edited by Lucas and D.G. Hart.  From a Reformed perspective, the subjects that they examine are largely sympathetic, however, they are not without glaring idiosyncrasies.  Dabney is a case in point.  
As a southern Presbyterian minister and scholar, he ardently upheld the Westminster Standards as the confessional norm for his tradition. He vehemently opposed the New School influence in the Presbyterian church that sought to lessen the subscription requirements for ministers. As a professor at Union Seminary in his beloved Virginia, he took his students through a rigorous training of theology and church history in order that they might properly serve the church of Christ. Dabney's talents did not end there; he also wrote extensively in philosophy, sociology, politics, education, homiletics, and a biography on the life of his friend, Gen. Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson.   
All that being said, however, perhaps Dabney's most heinous personal sin, which he carried to the end of his life, was that he was a virulent racist. Prior to the Civil War, he, like all moderately wealthy Southerners, was a slave owner. He wrongly interpreted divine providence (something we ought never to do) to suggest that slavery was the station in life for blacks. In other words, he argued that it was their divinely appointed social status and to usurp that, Dabney opined, was to overthrow God's will. Even after the War, during Reconstruction, he argued with all his might against ordaining black men into the ministry on what he thought were biblical grounds! 
Clearly, Dabney's thoughts and actions in this regard are appalling. That being said,  however, from a historian's perspective, it is never helpful to examine someone divorced from his or her social and cultural surroundings.  While not excusing his sin, certainly Dabney's Southern upbringing and distinct worldview contributed to a lot of his rhetoric.  
But why write on Dabney? Certainly, there are many other American Reformed luminaries that do not have such a dark track record.  I believe Lucas, as a History prof at Covenant (PCA's seminary), wanted to pull a valuable lesson from his own Southern Presbyterian tradition.  Namely, the doctrine of the spirituality of the Church. For all of Dabney's faults, perhaps his greatest contribution was to insist that Christ's kingdom is not of this world. To confuse the responsibilities of the kingdom of God with those of the kingdom of man is to commit a grave error. So for example, when the segment of the Northern Presbyterian church required in the "Spring Resolutions of 1861" for her members to express "devotion to the United States and loyalty to the Government," Dabney cried foul. The church, according to the spirituality doctrine, is to be focussed on the preaching of the word of God and the administration of the sacraments, and nothing else.  To engage in activities outside of this or to require her members to do so, is when the church ceases to be the church. This, I believe is Dabney's valuable lesson for the Church (especially for those of us who call themselves Reformed) today.