Why Six Days?

I used to think that the main reason why we are told in the opening chapters of Genesis that God created the world in six days was to be able to contradict the evolutionist's claim that it happened over billions of years. In retrospect, however, it seems a tad anachronistic to think that Moses could have been polemicizing against a theory that wasn't developed until over 3,000 years later! While Moses was indeed polemicizing (not plagiarizing!) against other Ancient Near Eastern creation myths, it is his masterful way of narrating the creation account that draws our attention. 
I would like to briefly discuss the literary aspects of the opening chapters of Genesis. If one focuses solely on the chronological details of Genesis 1, they may miss what I think is one of Moses' main points in his six day outline. For example, the first three days of creation describe the creation of light & darkness, waters & sky, and earth & vegetation, respectively. 

The next three days describe the creation of the sun, moon & stars, fish & birds, and animals & man, respectively. When placed side-by-side, one can see how the first three days correspond to next three. What we see in the first set of days are the creation of different realms and in the second set we see the creation of the respective rulers of those realms. The sun, moon and stars rule the heavens, the fish and birds rule the seas and skies, and animals and man rule the land. The fact that the creation of man takes place on the final day of creation highlights man's supremacy over the rest of creation. Certainly, the way Moses describes the creation of man in God's image sets him apart from the rest of God's creation. Indeed, God, as it where, saved the best for last when he created man to be the great ruler over all the rest of his creation  and thereby mirror the dominion that the Triune God exercises over all things. 

Indulge me for a while.

I recently read in the news that the practice of the Roman Catholic Church offering indulgences is making a resurgence (read about this here). As I read the article, I began to wonder what Martin Luther would have thought. As many of you already may know, it was the issue over the selling of indulgences that Luther initially launched his public criticisms of the Roman Catholic church. Indulgences are defined as the removal of temporal punishment for sins that have already been forgiven. You see, since Rome distinguishes between the removal of guilt and the actual punishment for sin, there remains a necessary step in the Roman Catholic system that Christians must undergo prior to entering heaven (hence: Purgatory). In order to limit one's time spent in Purgatory, the church offered, for the right price, indulgences. As Johann Tetzel, the famed indulgence preacher said, "When a penny in the coffer rings, a soul from Purgatory springs!" This as you can imagine, was a huge money-making enterprise, and also, no doubt, part of the motivation for its modern-day reinstitution.  

But as heinous as this practice may seem to be, it was not the major issue over which the Reformation grew. The move to morally reform corrupt church practices did not begin with Luther, nor did it end with him. As a matter of fact, the Catholic Reformation (A.K.A. Counter Reformation) was all about moral reform, and it was quite successful in cleaning up Rome's act, so to speak. The major issue which the Reformation was all about is the doctrine of justification by faith alone. This is the teaching that Luther, whose theology had matured since the publishing of the 95 Theses, said the Church stands or falls upon. The Reformation was primarily motivated by theological concerns (soteriology in particular) and only secondarily, did moral, political, social, etc. concerns enter in.  Rome's answer to the Reformation, the council of Trent, understood this well. Trent did much to reform corrupt practices within, but perhaps its most emphatic denunciations were reserved for anyone who holds the doctrine of justification by faith alone (they receive an anathema).  This is what sets the Reformers apart from Rome as well as the Anabaptists; both denied any notion of imputation of Christ's righteousness in favor of a realist notion of salvation (i.e. God declare you righteous, only if you are really righteous). Moral corruption is nothing new (or unique to Rome, for that matter), what is important, however is the gospel. 

Sacraments and Discipline

We've already seen the inter-connected relationship that preaching has with the administration of the sacraments and discipline (see below), but what relationship, if any, do the sacraments have with godly church discipline? These two marks of a true church have much to do with one another in that they both are essential aspects of the Christian communion. 

Baptism, as it was instituted by Christ in Matthew 28, is obviously an initiatory rite for those entering into the church. Its covenantal significance is seen in Christ's choice of the preposition "into" (eis, in Greek). When we were baptized, we were not just baptized "in" the name, that is by divine authority, but we were also baptized "into" the name of the Triune God. This terminology is freighted with covenantal significance. In the ancient world, the name of the god that one worshiped would be called out durning one's initiation; it was said that the divine name was placed "upon" the devotee. This is the same language used of the Aaronic benediction in Numbers 6, when God says in verse 27, "So shall they put my name upon the people of Israel, and I will bless them." In other words, when we were baptized, we were baptized into a relationship with God, where he promises that he will be our God and we will be his people (the essence of the covenant). 

If baptism gets us into the covenant people of God, so to speak, the Lord's Supper provides us sustenance once we are in. Unlike the act of baptism, which need only be done once, the Lord's Supper ought to be taken regularly in order to continue to nourish our souls to eternal life. It is a means of assurance for the believer because we know by faith that as certainly as we eat the bread and drink the wine, so certainly has Christ died for our sins. It is given to us because of our sin and failure to assure us of God's love and to strengthen us in our resolve to do good. 
With these things in mind, let us remember that godly church discipline is for those who are within the covenant community (Heb 12:6).  Discipline is not some arbitrary and judgmental task that consistories do to flex their spiritual power, rather, it is done in love and humility in order to restore a fallen brother. It is not for those who are outside, but is a necessary gift from God for his children. We should be thankful for discipline, for it is God's means to keep us in his church. Here we can see the intimate relationship that discipline bears to the sacraments. Discipline is only for baptized members of the covenant community who have gone astray in doctrine or life. Further, the consequence of Christian discipline is to be suspended from the table of the Lord's Supper. This means of assurance salvation is withheld from those who refuse to repent of their sins. Once a brother is brought to a place of repentance and restored, the Lord's Supper is once again offered.  

We see, therefore, that the three marks of a true church as defined in Belgic Confession  art. 29 are non-negotiable.  They are not three random aspects of church life that someone 500 years ago decided that everyone must agree upon. Rather, they are essential character traits that a church must have in order to faithfully carry out God's will. Further, I hope that I have shown how important it is for a church to not just have one of the marks, but all three, in that they bear such intimate relation to each other that in order for a church to carry out one task, the other two must also be present.    

The Keys of the Kingdom

The preaching of the gospel, administration of the sacraments and the exercise of church discipline are the three marks of a true church according to the Belgic Confession of Faith (art. 29). These marks are distinct and important in their own right, however, we do not want to suggest that a church's vitality can survive if one of these marks is neglected. This is because the three marks are so intimately connected and interrelated, that they depend upon one another for a church's ministry to properly function. My previous post showed the relation between preaching and the sacraments, here we will consider the how preaching and church discipline work together. The complimentary nature of these two marks are clearly seen in Heidelberg Catechism #83, which asks: "What are the office of the keys?" to which it responds: "The preaching of the Holy Gospel and Church discipline; by which two things the kingdom of heaven is opened to believers and shut against unbelievers." Working from Matthew 16:19, the Catechism explains the duties of the office bearers of the church and how it is that they posses the authority (delegated by God's word) to open and close the doors of heaven. The preaching of the gospel "opens" heaven to all who accept its promises by faith. However, on the contrary, true gospel preaching declares that the wrath of God abides upon unbelievers and hypocrites so long as they are not converted, and thus heaven is "closed" to them. Likewise, church discipline is carried out upon those who continue to live in sin and after several brotherly admonitions are excluded from the Lord's Table (note: connection between sacraments and discipline) and from the Christian communion, with hopes and prayers that they will repent and be restored.  In short, the gospel is not clearly and accurately proclaimed if people are not told the consequences of continuing in unbelief. How will they know what it means to be saved if they are not told what it is that they are being saved from? Likewise, the preaching of the gospel should always flow into how it is that we as Christians should respond (indicative to imperative... like Paul in Ephesians).  Grace leads to gratitude. Church discipline is the practical outworking of that message.  

Preaching + Sacraments + Discipline = True Church?

In the Belgic Confession art. 29 we find listed the "marks" of a true church. These are the things one should look for in order to "easily recognize" whether an assembly of professing Christians actually constitutes an authentic church of God. They are: the pure preaching of the gospel, the pure administration of the sacraments, and the exercising of church discipline. That's it. This remarkably short list of qualifications is all that the Belgic Confession of Faith requires of churches to have in order to be properly considered a true church. But as short as this list is, many people today would like it to be shorter. What if, for example, a church has faithful preaching where the gospel is clearly heard, however it is a Baptist church, where the sacraments are not done the same way as in Reformed churches? Is it not a true church? Many people, perhaps yourself included, see this view as narrow-minded, if not outright divisive. How on earth can a church were the gospel is preached not be considered a "true church"?!  Why can we not have just one mark, that is pure preaching? But perhaps if one begins to see the intimate relation between each of the marks, one can see how misguided it is to divorce one mark from the others.

Let me be clear, the pure preaching of the gospel (not "the word," in the general sense, which contains both law and gospel, but "gospel" in the specific sense) is the most important mark of a true church. That is why it is always listed first and that is why one is much better off in, say, a Reformed Baptist Church than in a Roman Catholic Church. The preaching of the gospel is the means by which the Holy Spirit creates faith in the hearts of the listeners and without it, no one would be saved. But, in highlighting the importance of gospel preaching, we also see the importance of the sacraments when we remember that they are rightly called "visible words." Reformed theology has always emphasized the fact that the sacraments are not meaningless, empty signs, but rather tangible expressions of gospel itself. Sacraments are the gospel. Read how the Belgic Confession speaks of the sacraments in art. 33: 

[God] truly attached these to the word of the Gospel so that He would put forth before our external senses both the very thing itself that He proclaims to us in His word and also even that which He Himself internally works in our hearts, and finally, so that He would confirm in us, more and more, the salvation that He deemed worthy to communicate to us. For the sacraments are signs and visible symbols of internal and invisible things, through which, as through means, God Himself works in us by the power of the Holy Spirit.

In other words, the sacraments are supplements to the preaching of the gospel, adding an external and immanently practical confirmation to what is already heard. This is why Calvin, and the Reformed tradition with him, insisted that the sacraments always be accompanied by the preaching of the word. So, for a church to have robust gospel preaching and yet fail to properly administer the sacraments, it in effect undermines the full-orbed gospel presentation that Christ has ordained. 

coming soon... the relationship between preaching and discipline. 

What hath Northampton to do with Azusa St.?

Some years back, I was at the home of an ardent Pentecostal acquaintance when I was amazed to see a copy of one of Jonathan Edward's treatises on her dining room table. As a newly Reformed Christian I had assumed that since Edwards was such a strong predestinarian, there was no way that my friend could possibly have been giving the treatise a sympathetic reading...and yet it was highlighted and underlined all over the place! What is it that modern-day Pentecostals find in common with the same one who preached "Sinners in the hands of an angry God." Both are/were committed to bring about revival. Like modern-day Pentecostals, Jonathan Edwards attested to an extraordinary outpouring of the Spirit which led, not only to the alleged conversion of many, but was also accompanied by astonishing experiences in the lives of his townsfolk. Although Edwards was careful to distinguish his reports from other sensational accounts like those of the Quakers, he nevertheless, placed a high priority upon extraordinary religious experience and interpreted these events as actual divine outpourings. This is the same trajectory later followed in the Second Great Awakening and today by Pentecostals, in particular, as well as numerous Evangelicals, in general. 

The hallmark of any claim to an authentic revival (excluding Finney's) is that all is wrought by the divine power of the Spirit. Human-wrought effects, brought about by ordinary means and circumstances, are by definition, not revival. Hence, the almost universal criticism of Charles G. Finney's extravagant claim that revival can be brought about through human means without any need for divine grace. The problem with making such a strong contrast with the First and Second Great Awakening, however, is that human agency and circumstances played a large part in the former as it did in the latter. For example, Edwards' early account of the "awakening" going on in his Northampton made its way across the pond where it was enthusiastically read by the likes of John Wesley and George Whitefield, who in turn, sought to bring about the same results. 

Another human-related means used by Edwards and others was the use of what can be termed, scare tactics. At the height of the Northampton awakening, one of Edwards' own distant relations, committed suicide by slitting his throat. Never one to shy away from interpreting providence, Edwards attributed this tragic event largely to the workings of Satan (I'm sure he had at least something to do with it [cf. Gen 3]).  Since God was doing such an extraordinary work, Edwards reasoned, Satan also must be doing his utmost to stop it. His sermons following the suicide used the deceased as an example of Satan's victim, the obvious application was: don't end up like him.  Edwards heightened the urgency for his parishioners as he attested that "multitudes," who previously never suffered from depression, were suddenly confronted with the temptation to end their own life! It was as if, according to Edwards, Satan came upon them and told them, "'Cut your own throat, now is good opportunity: now, NOW!'" 

What are you eating?

The distinction between divine essence and energies continues to afford us with helpful categories in our theology [if you're not familiar with these distinctions, see below]. Perhaps this is no more evident than in how one formulates their doctrine of the Lord's Supper. The official Roman Catholic view maintains that what is eaten during communion is no longer bread and wine, but the actual (essence) body and blood of Christ. On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the memorialists who say that all that is eaten during communion is merely bread and wine (creaturely realities) and the only edifying aspect of the ceremony is the believer's own pious thoughts and reflections. So who is right? Do the bread and wine really become part of God's own essence or do they merely stay part of God's creation? Once again, we are left looking for a third option. 

Eastern Christianity's classic distinction of divine energies once again lends itself to the classic Reformed doctrine of the Lord's Supper, which teaches that although the elements remain bread and wine, through the working (energies) of the Holy Spirit, by faith we are nevertheless so united to Christ and his work (energies) that we can maintain that as surely as we eat the bread and drink the cup, so surely are our sins forgiven and all the sufferings and obedience that Christ worked (energies) are ours as if we had done them all ourselves (cf. Heidelberg Catechism LD 28). We need not eat Christ's very DNA nor partake of his divine essence in order to receive the benefits of his workings for us.