Marks of the Church: Resumption of discussion.

I was somewhat taken aback with the change in tone by the Monroe Doctrine Author (MDA) in his last post that was written in response to me. So, I needed time to walk away and then come back to our discussion. Let me start by responding and clarifying a small amount before we get into the second hypothetical. 

While MDA claims that I made a “pedantic” statement concerning the nature of the sacraments, it clearly is not a point of minutia to me, and thereby we can see a fairly large point of departure. What I have tried to do is to pin down exactly what it is that is the nature of a sacrament in the Presbyterian world, and it still seems elusive to me. Where I am accused in finding “virtue in confusion” is in actual fact my attempts at clearing my own confusion on the issue, a point that I am no further along than I was three months ago.  

What I have attempted to do in my own posts is to point to a decided difference in ecclesiology that is reflected in the practices of the two churches. Since the sacraments are marks of the church in both systems, it stood to reason that these issues needed to be sorted prior to tackling the Presbyterian third mark. I have failed utterly in making my own points clear as instead I have been characterized as a champion of confusion. Therefore, let me make my own points clear once more.

Baptism in the Anglican world is not the same as in the Lutheran world. “The reformed understanding is that there should neither be confusion (as with Rome) nor separation (as in Zwingli) between the sign and the thing signified.” We agree on this point. MDA asserts that I believe in an ex opere relationship of baptism to regeneration, while I have asserted quite differently. His assertion is consistent with the Lutheran tradition, and I have stated that this is not the Anglican tradition, at least as I understand it. I have tried to make a distinction between the sign and seal of covenant in Baptism with regeneration despite simultaneous occurrence of these events in the elect. This is a distinction that MDA does not seem to recognize in my writing, so I will attempt it again. The example that is useful is the covenant member who is not elect. Baptism brings this person into the covenant community, but no regeneration occurs. This is why this person might be seen to fall away from the church. This example makes plain that the Anglican understanding of baptism is different from the Lutheran understanding. The ontological separation of these events, baptism and regeneration, does not require temporal separation, however. This is an important point, and not at all of minutia.

Similarly, my long dwelling on baptism, ecclesiology and liturgy was in fact to demonstrate a lack of need to fence the table in the Anglican world. I view fencing the table a form of discipline, and in this I may be in error from the mindset of the Presbyterian. But I have not been explicitly told so as of this writing, and it may be that this is accurate in certain circumstances, but not in others.

The question that I have left on the table was basically this: what is the nature of the Presbyterian meaning of “pneumatic presence” in the Lord’s Supper as it is clearly different from that meant by the Anglicans, though I have not been able to articulate either side with sufficient clarity to further the discussion. Perhaps MDA will finally take up this point.

Now, moving on the MDA response to the second hypothetical, I would start with this statement. I chose a particular sin knowing it was difficult. MDA answered the particular question very well, but not the spirit of the question. In directing an appropriate next step in our discussion, I would ask MDA to change the habitual sin to any other one he chooses, so long as it requires the formal discipline process within the church. This will best give MDA an opportunity to forward his view of the discipline process as he understands it.

Remembering that we are both brothers in Christ Jesus, I put the ball back into your court, sir.

Beyond Gethsemane

I have lifted this from Modern Reformation and edited the length for you.  There will be a follow up to this by me in a couple of days.  --Troll--

Christ's Impossible Prayer in Gethsemane  by Brent McGuire

   They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, "Sit here while I pray." He took Peter, James, and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. (Mark 14:32-33)  The conventional account, at least the one this writer encounters most often, is that in Gethsemane Jesus demonstrates his humanity, by shrinking (as any of us would) from the painful death ahead of him. Jesus is deeply distressed by the prospect not only of dying but of being killed in a cruel and violent manner. He knows what is about to happen and he is afraid.

   What leads people to think this way of Gethsemane? Perhaps graphic Good Friday sermons and dramatizations such as The Passion of the Christ are to blame-visual and rhetorical portrayals of the brutal scourging, the pounding of the nails, and the thrusting in of the spear. Though true and faithful to the biblical record and to what we know of ancient Roman crucifixion, such an emphasis on the physicality of the cross often serves to obscure the full significance of Jesus' suffering and death. After all, what is true physically about Jesus' crucifixion may also be said of the crucifixions that occurred left and right of him. And while we do not know what anguish of soul the two malefactors experienced beforehand, we know of many martyrs-Christian and otherwise-who faced their violent end with little or no spiritual torment.

   Eleazar, a Jewish scribe martyred in the second century b.c., "welcomed death with honor" and "went to the rack of his own accord" (2 Macc. 6:19). The Roman philosopher Seneca, in the moments leading up to his suicide, was unmoved, showing no signs of fear or sadness (Tacitus, Annals XV.61-2). St. Peter was so bold as to insist he be crucified upside down. The early Christian bishop Polycarp received his death sentence with a courage and joy that amazed his executioner (Eusebius, Church History IV.25). To say Jesus' soul is "overwhelmed to the point of death" because he fears being crucified is to regard him as of weaker stuff than these others.

   No, Jesus' agony is over something other than the prospect of physical suffering and death. We learn what that is from the words he prays. His prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, in fact, gives us the full meaning of what he is about to do. And the Father's answer, in turn, reveals that the world could be saved in no other way.

The Cup

   "My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will" (Matt. 26:39). And again he prayed, "My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done" (Matt. 26:42). What does Jesus mean by "this cup"?

   In Psalm 75 we read, In the hand of the Lord is a cup full of foaming wine mixed with spices; he pours it out, and all the wicked of the earth drink it down to its very dregs. (Ps. 75:8)  Isaiah, too, speaks of this "cup of the Lord's wrath" (Isa. 51:17) and Jeremiah of the "cup filled with the wine of My wrath" (Jer. 25:15). The cup that Christ asks be taken from him is the cup of God's judgment against sinners. Here is why the Son of God began to be sorrowful and troubled. Here is what caused Christ's sweat to fall like drops of blood to the ground. It is not at pain and death that Christ flinches. In Gethsemane Christ shudders before the cup of God's wrath upon sin.

   There are many today who refuse to believe that God actually gets angry with sinners. They think that God is never wroth with his creatures.  Some there are who tell Of one who threatens he will toss to hell The luckless pots he marr'd in making-Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well. (Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam) God made us, warts and all, and there is no way a God who is just would ever punish sinners for being exactly how he made them. Or so the prevailing view would have it.

   Holy Scripture tells a different story. God is certainly just, but we are not as God made us. Our sinful nature, inherited from our first parents, is a perversion of God's good creation, an offense for which we are held no less accountable for having been born with it: "I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation" (Exod. 20:4).

   Since God is holy and righteous by nature, he can have no communion with sinners. "I am the Lord your God; consecrate yourselves and be holy, because I am holy" (Lev. 11:44). "Men of perverse heart shall be far from me; I will have nothing to do with evil" (Ps. 101:3). Those who do not live in perfect obedience to the standard he establishes for his creation are subject to his just sentence: "Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the Book of the Law" (Gal. 3:10). Furthermore, the curse is eternal: "It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where 'their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched'" (Mark 9:47-8). In short, "there is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy" (James 4:12).

   How often it is asked, "How could a loving God send anyone to hell?" Yet our inborn sense of justice betrays us when we understand and sympathize with the father who says, "I will not, I cannot forgive the man who murdered my daughter." We do not say, "How unloving!" He loves his daughter; he hates her killer. God loves his creation; therefore he justly hates those who by sin have destroyed it. All the human reasons for which we might urge the father to forgive his daughter's killer nonetheless-the father's own sinful fallibility, the psychological cost of pent-up anger, and more-none of these has any claim upon God.

   The fact is, despite all our attempts at denying the justice of God's wrath on sin, the conscience is rarely, if ever, so completely suppressed that it does not have its doubts. When people reflect on their actions, when they see the sorrow and unhappiness their sins bring into their own and other lives, when in a great emergency they come to face death, then all the complacent ideas of sin and guilt melt away. They feel pangs of conscience which no sop like "God hates the sin but loves the sinner" can ease. Even a mind unenlightened by the Spirit entertains the thought that God not only hates the sinner but is right to do so.

If It Is Possible

   In the Gospel of Mark, we hear Jesus saying, "Abba, Father, everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will" (Mark 14:36). Everything is possible for God. Contrary to the medieval theologian Anselm, and contrary to many of Anselm's critics, who would reduce the cross to a mere demonstration of God's love, there was no necessity on God's part for him to deliver humanity from sin. God did not have to save us. He would not have contradicted his nature had he chosen not to send his Son and left sinners to their just reward. Everything is possible for God.

   Our sin made the cross necessary. If we were to be saved, if sinners were to be spared the just penalty for their sins, God himself would have to will it. "My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done" (Matt. 26:42). It proved not possible for the cup to be taken away from Christ, because God did in fact will humans to be saved. God willed before the foundation of the world to remove the cup of his wrath upon sin by sending his Son to drink it in the place of sinners (1 Pet. 1:20).

And so the Lord laid on Christ the "iniquity of us all" (Isa. 53:6). "God presented him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood. He did this to demonstrate his justice, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished-he did it to demonstrate his justice at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies those who have faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:25-6).

   God's wrath is real. But it was also really borne by Jesus Christ. "God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" (2 Cor. 5:21). Jesus was judged. Jesus was damned. For us. 

Back to the Garden

   The church has long recognized Psalm 69 as a description of Christ's suffering. We know the Psalm is about Christ, because Christ himself and his apostles say so. The fourth verse of the Psalm, Jesus tells his disciples, is fulfilled by the world's rejection of him: "They hate me without reason" (John 15:25). When Christ cleared the temple, he was fulfilling the first half of Psalm 69:9, which reads, "Zeal for your house consumes me" (John 2:17). The Apostle Paul applied the second half of the verse to Christ as well: "For even Christ did not please himself but, as it is written: 'The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me'" (Rom. 15:3).

   We easily identify Christ's suffering and death in the other verses of the Psalm. "I endure shame for your sake, and shame covers my face" (v. 7). "I am a stranger to my brothers, an alien to my own mother's sons" (v. 8, Mark 3:21). "They put gall in my food and gave me vinegar for my thirst" (v. 21; Matt. 27:34, 48; Mark 15:23, 36; Luke 23:36; John 19:28). The curse on the psalmist's enemies, "May their place be deserted; let there be no one to dwell in their tents," Jesus pronounces on unbelieving Jerusalem: "Look, your house is left to you desolate" (Luke 13:35).

   But toward the beginning of the Psalm is an anomaly, a verse we hesitate to interpret as coming from the mouth of Christ: "You know my folly, O God; my guilt is not hidden from you" (v. 5). Yet there it is as part of a Psalm otherwise so clearly about Jesus Christ and him alone. How can the innocent Christ say this about himself? How can the innocent Christ say that he knows his own folly (the Hebrew word connotes moral deficiency, wickedness) and that his guilt is not hidden from God?

   Christ of himself is sinless, "without blemish and without spot" (1 Pet. 1:19). But Christ stands before the Father representing in his person the whole of sinful humanity. And as he bears the world's sin, he experiences in his soul the consciousness of sin's guilt. He feels in his inmost being God's verdict of condemnation, as if he has personally committed all of these sins. In the words of Martin Chemnitz, How miserably the saints often complain about the pangs of death and the sorrows of hell, although each drinks only his own cup into which God has not yet poured all His wrath! But upon Christ the Father laid the sins and penalties which were brought about by the sins of the whole world, and He poured out all His wrath upon Him. (Two Natures in Christ, p. 62)

   Here then is the deep distress that causes Christ to pray, "If it is possible, may this cup be taken from me" and "If it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done." 

Christ's Suffering for Sinners, the Object of Faith

   We could not effect a reconciliation with the just and holy God, so Christ accomplished it for us. Christ became the one great universal sinner and was dealt with accordingly by God. And so our guilt, no mere figment or social creation but the felt weight of divine justice and holiness, has been removed. The cup has been taken away, because Christ drank it for us. What cause for praise! What unspeakable joy this brings to the troubled conscience!

   But such faith in Christ, such knowledge of one's salvation the devil conspires to obstruct. The devil uses the various human objections to Christ's vicarious suffering to prevent men from finding refuge from their sins in Christ alone. We should be on our guard. Any theory that seeks to supplant the doctrine that Christ suffered God's righteous wrath against sinners in sinners' places robs Christ of his glory as the redeemer of the world and deprives sinners of the assurance of their salvation. All such theories can make no sense of what happens at Gethsemane.

   Perhaps it should not surprise us that several of the theologians who opposed the vicarious atonement in their teaching reversed themselves on their deathbeds….  Each of them in his own way denied Christ's vicarious satisfaction of sins and taught in its place a kind of moral influence theory-that Christ's suffering is the most convincing proof of God's love and serves to awaken in man a love for God, which, in turn, reconciles us to God. But each of these theologians reverted in his last hours to the view he had rejected throughout his career. 

Conclusion

   For the convicted sinner, no greater comfort can be found than in the joyous exchange of the cross, "For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God" (1 Pet. 3:18). In the end, God the Father denied his Son's request that the cup be taken from him. It was the Father's will for Christ to receive on sinners' behalf death, hell, rejection by God. But the cup that at Gethsemane he shuddered to drink he willingly drank on the cross.

   Jesus' humble prayer in Gethsemane is part of Jesus' suffering for us. Christ is praying for himself, that he might be strengthened for the hours ahead. But the event's record in Scripture is for us. We are given to know not only the intense agony Jesus felt in the moments immediately before his arrest, trial, and crucifixion, but also why he felt it. A cruel and violent death impends, and more than that, the cup of the Lord's wrath upon sin. The Holy Spirit wants us to know this so that we may use Christ's suffering and death against our own. There was no sin not died for at Calvary. No sin which Jesus' shed blood did not cover. And because Jesus drained the cup of the Father's wrath, he gives us to drink with joy the cup of salvation in his blood.

Baptism and Holy Communion: the Sacraments

Episcopalian conformation class asks this question on the first night: what is a sacrament?  The answer is an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible Grace.  Roman Catholic catechism teaches that they are rites in which God is uniquely active.  If a sacrament is a sign or symbol, what makes them different from other symbols?  What is this invisible Grace and why is it important?  How is God uniquely active in these rites?  

Grace is the gift of God that we receive that includes not just our Justification by faith in Christ alone in His atoning and propitiating death and resurrection, not just our Sanctification through our Baptism and subsequent participation in the Sacrament of Holy Communion and in hearing the Word preached correctly, but the action of the Holy Spirit entering our minds and hearts as we participate in these activities.  The richness and depth of the sacraments is lost in the terse answers supplied in these catechisms.  My slightly less brief paragraph falls exceedingly short of conveying the importance of the sacraments.  Let’s look at them more closely.

Baptism is the first of the two Biblically supported sacraments.  All Christian denominations practice Baptism of some sort, but not all believe that the same theology is behind it.  Many doctrines of the church come into play here, so I will focus on the Reformed position.  Covenant theology and the idea of Sacrament are important components of this issue. 

There are two basic schools of Baptism: Paedobaptism and Credobaptism.  The nutshell version of this division is that Paedobaptism is infant Baptism and Credobaptism is adult or believers’ Baptism.  But the issue is far deeper and goes the very root of the question, “What is a sacrament?” What is important to understand is that the reformed do not view sacraments as mere ordinances of the church.  Sacraments are the visible and current avenues of the believer receiving those doses of Grace throughout our lives that transform and Sanctify us to His Holy Name.  We also receive Grace through the weekly hearing of the Gospel preached correctly and the administering of His Holy Communion.  Baptism in this context is the Covenant seal of Grace upon a soul, on the child of a believer, into the Body of Christ, His church.   Is Baptism necessary?  Absolutely!  Baptism is the Covenant seal of Jesus, fulfilling the Covenant with Abraham.  Baptism is the new circumcision through Christ.  The words of Baptism say that it marks you as Christ’s own forever.  Men and women both have access to this new circumcision, to the seal of this New Covenant.  In Baptism, we accompany Christ in his death and resurrection through the water ritual that seals His Covenant with us.  God does all of the work in Baptism, regardless of the age of the person being Baptized.  The action is by the Grace of God alone acting through the Holy Spirit to seal us into the Covenant of Abraham renewed and fulfilled by Jesus, the Christ.  What greater demonstration of God’s Grace is there than infant Baptism!

After Baptism, we are immersed in the weekly preaching of the Word correctly and the administration of Holy Communion, by which we are Sanctified over the course of our lives.  Notice that God provides everything to us.  We listen and we receive.  God did everything for Justification, and, get this, He does everything for Sanctification as well!  My God, how great is Your Grace!

Let’s contrast this with Credobaptism for a moment.  The idea behind the believers’ Baptism is that a person must be of the age of accountability, usually 12 or 13, so that he understands what he is doing.  In these circles of Credobaptism, there will be some conditions set forth for Baptism.  You may have to attend certain classes, classes that in Paedobaptist churches are associated with catechism or confirmation.  The irony is that we expect our adults to come as little children to inherit the Kingdom of Heaven, and then don’t allow our little children to participate in the Kingdom of Heaven.  

An argument is made that a child is unable to understand the purpose of Baptism and therefore cannot participate in the sacrament.  The reformed take issue with this statement on two grounds.  First, Baptism is a sacrament.  All of the action of a sacrament is by virtue of the Holy Spirit acting alone through Grace.  Therefore, this view of Baptism relegates Baptism to a mere office of the church on level footing with marriage or ordination.  It is important, but only in a symbolic way.  Secondly, the idea becomes Arminian, that is, we have to participate in the action.  This is no longer the wholly sufficient result of Christ’s Resurrection and Grace acting through the Holy Spirit.  Credobaptism, thought of in these terms, actually diminishes Justification by attacking the sufficiency of the resurrection.

Using John the Baptist as an example of the meaning of Baptism, or Jesus Himself for that matter, is a difficult proposition. The reason is simple. John never once Baptized a person after the Resurrection. In fact, John wrote to Jesus to ask if Jesus were truly the Messiah just before he was executed.  The point of Jesus’ Baptism, then, was to receive the sacrament as an example to us that this was the new Circumcision.  Jesus, as the first member of the world yet to come, has to participate in this sacrament in order to be counted as a member in His human state.  The imputation Christ’s righteousness does not work unless Jesus has set up the conditions for us in His own life that seal the deal for us. 

The first and most important issue is the Covenant of Adam. Adam broke the Law Covenant and one important mission of Jesus' life was to become the one and only keeper of the Law Covenant. The second was to establish a New Covenant in Him. There are references galore throughout the Synoptics in which Jesus refers to this new covenant in Him. Start with the Last Supper and the words he spoke over the wine. The point is that in these two missions, He needed to fulfill the Old Covenant for us and establish the New Covenant in Him. In the OT, we have the sacrificial system of the Jews that Jesus ends. In its place, he gives us new sacraments.

Circumcision was the sign of the Covenant with Abraham. Read Genesis 12-18. This goes over the whole story of Abraham. It is through Abraham's seed (Jesus) that Gentiles are grafted into the Abrahamic Covenant. Now read Galatians 3. Focus on verses 23-29. Paul states very plainly that the church inherits the promise to Abraham. In this promise, there is no male or female. All are one in Christ. So, how is the Covenant of Abraham sealed? By circumcision. How is the New Covenant of Jesus sealed? By Baptism. The parallel is quite clear. Every Reformed confession of faith from Calvin's Institutes to the Canons of Dort has emphasized this relationship and confirmed the principle of Paedobaptism.

Historically, Credobaptism is the new kid on the block. Therefore, the burden of proof falls on that side. Credobaptists have to talk down 16 centuries of church history as heretical. I'm sorry, but that just doesn't wash with me unless the proof is overwhelming. And it just isn't. Paul twice baptizes whole households. While infants and children are not specifically mentioned, neither are they specifically excluded. I understand that arguments from the negative are problematic, but it is important to understand that the weakness of the PaedoBaptist argument is carried by the Credobaptist argument as well, thus negating the issue. The Bible does not ANYWHERE forbid infant Baptism.

At the end of the day, this is not a soteriology issue.  Baptism does not render Salvation.  Because of this much disagreement remains on the issue.  First of all, Salvation occurs at Judgment Day. We have Justification and Sanctification for this world. Whether we skip to Salvation at death or on the final day is not a problem for us in this world, but Salvation is a judgment verdict.  Credobaptists do NOT think that Baptism ensures Salvation, neither side does that. Both sides agree, however, that Baptism is essential. The theology behind the Baptism for credobaptists is different. For one, Baptism really isn't a sacrament. For the other, paedobaptists, Baptism IS a sacrament and a Covenant seal.  It is possible to be sealed into a Covenant and receive the rewards of this world through that covenant, but fail to receive Salvation despite Baptism.  Arguably, this has been the case for many Jews who have been circumcised and received the benefits of national Israel without being received into the Kingdom of God.  The Pharisees have to be considered in this category.  This is not a repudiation of the perseverance of the Saints.  This is a rather a confirmation of the doctrine of election.  Baptism is necessary, but Baptism does not confer Salvation.

Holy Communion is the sacrament by which we receive the Grace of God in a Covenant Renewal Ceremony.  The violence done to the Lord’s Supper in modern Evangelical circles is horrifying.  There is no ceremony and no Grace.  We are given bread and grape juice (Christian Liberty is coming soon to a post near you!) and told to go off by ourselves and commune with God on our own.  There is no corporate renewal of the Covenant of Abraham.  There is no demonstration of God’s Grace to His people.  Instead, we are told to go inside ourselves and commune with God.  This is no less an invitation for as many personal heresies are there are people in the room.  This is Pelagianism and this is heresy.

In conclusion, I commend this book to your edification on Baptism.  It does a great job of discussing Covenant Theology and its relationship to Baptism.

--Troll--