Dinosaurs, eight-tracks, and Biblical UMC church discipline

Imagine the nerve of Edward Johnson, pastor of the South Hill United Methodist Church.

He had the gall to deny church membership to a man who was a practicing, unrepentant homosexual in an immoral relationship with another man (which, to my mind, is about four ways of saying the same thing). Evidently appalled at this unauthorized exercise of anything approaching Biblical church discipline, and perhaps fearing that his example, if left uncorrected, might catch on, the clergy session of the Virginia Annual Conference last month took decisive action.

They put pastor Johnson on leave. Involuntarily. Without pay. For a year.

Actually, it may be more than a year, depending ominously enough on "whether or not he works with the conference on what we ask him," according to District Superintendent William Anthony Layman, who presides over the Petersburg district to which South Hill belongs. One can only imagine what they will "ask him."

Raising a "how many things are wrong with this picture?" scenario, the Bishop Charlene P. Kammerer piously wished Johnson luck and said she'd pray for "healing in the life of the congregation in South Hill." "Healing" in the context likely means something along the lines of quieting all this fuss caused by some rebellious UMC clergy daring to get anywhere near the Bible. It is unlikely that she had in mind Biblical healing, which would involve just the sort of thing the pastor apparently was trying to do (1 Corinthians 5).

Any outbreak of such Biblical standards in the United Methodist Church would eventually mean that "Bishop" Kammerer herself would be out of a job, and that for many reasons. If "Charlene" is a man's name, that would be one less reason. Well, maybe.

Now the pastor and his congregation, separated by an external power seemingly pitted against any notion of actual Biblical Christianity, will have to decide whether to stay with the rotting UMC corpse, or ally themselves with Biblically-convicted, living, practicing, actual Christians.

Which is also about four ways of saying the same thing.

Cruisin' the cults in Hollywood

Cliff Kinkaid discusses Tom Cruise, Scientology, Islam and Hollywood in Tom Cruise Vs. Mel Gibson. He notes and documents the favorable treatment that Scientology and Islam get in Hollywood, and thinks that the reason is that representatives of both religions will sue at the drop of a hat. He thinks Mel Gibson does not get as sanguine a welcome, noting that he had to finance The Passion himself. He thinks Roman Catholics and Christians (which he lumps together) get the shorter end of the stick because they do not sue.

I wouldn't entirely agree. Cruise was widely treated as nutty in his recent spate of appearances and spouting-offs. The only form of "Christianity," broadly defined, that much of Hollywood seems to know and/or treat with any degree of respect is Roman Catholicism. Even the non-Roman-Catholic pastor in Gibson's The Patriot talks about praying for the souls of dead men, hardly a Puritan -- or, for that matter, Christian... Biblically defined -- practice.

But I'd be hard pressed to come up with five recent, full-blooded, sympathetic portrayals of actual, card-carrying, Bible-believing-and-practicing Christians in the major media.

As to Islam, however, Kincaid's right on the money. I'd guess that the threats of both lawsuits and violence probably go a long way to explain the difference between the way in which Christians, on the one hand, and homosexuals and Moslems, on the other, tend to be treated in the public arena.

Trinity, Flinity, what's the big?

It really bothers William Dicks that so many Christians uncritically accept popular pastors or musicians who deny the Biblical doctrine of the Trinity. If they can speak in tongues and/or have large followings, they get a "pass" not generally extended to Jehovah's Witnesses, Mormons, Unitarians, Moslems, or any other assorted non-Christian cultist. He finds this indifference to a fundamental, core doctrine troubling.

And well he should. It is troubling. As Dicks correctly notes (and as I have often insisted), anything anyone says about God is doctrine. We have no choice as to whether or not we'll involve ourselves in doctrine and theology. Whether it is good or bad doctrine -- that is our inevitable choice.

Anyone who thinks that the doctrine of the Trinity is a minor issue either has been subjected tp appallingly wretched teaching from the pulpit, or hasn't been paying attention.

I've used this comparison. Suppose someone asks me if I am a Sean Connery fan.

"Love her!" I say.

Puzzled, the other asks me to describe Sean Connery.

"Oh, she's a young Jamaican Country-Western singer, about 25, five foot five, braided hair, with a pegleg and a parrot on her shoulder."

Obviously, we're not talking about the same Sean Connery.

And so, if two people claim to love "God," but one says that He is a single solitary person who sometimes adopts the guise of Father, sometimes Son, or sometimes Holy Spirit; and the other says He is one Being who has eternally existed in three distinct Persons -- they are not talking about the same God. Theoretically, either may be right, or both may be wrong; but they cannot both be right. And it matters, given God's hatred for false worship (Exodus 20:3; Leviticus 10; etc.).

If Christians can't muster the spine and brains to care about such fundamental doctrines, we might as well chuck the label and call ourselves kumquats or Martians.

(If this bothers brother Dicks, I imagine that Eerdmans' preaching a Mormon Jesus must have really churned his gut, as it did ours.)

Blindingly Tangential (Be Warned!) Update: odd I'd have used Sean Connery as my example. Just now I find an article saying he's through making movies. As Connery is probably my favorite living actor, that's not happy news to me. I might summarize this news to my wife, but I won't show her the article. She has a wise policy of not wanting to know anything about the private lives of actors she enjoys. This article would be a perfect example of why: he comes off as a cranky, money-grubbing idiot.

Theology that smokes!

The Shizuka blog features some unique writing on the beauties and virtues of the cigar, with a side note or two to pipe smoking. If all things tobbacological offend you, avoid the blog. If you, like me, enjoy causing the occasional cloud to ascend, you'll enjoy the reading. (Hat-tip: Thinklings.)

This blog features the fullest telling I think I've ever read of the Spurgeon-Pentecost encounter. My hero, Charles H. Spurgeon, thanked God for the gift of cigars, and frequently honored Him by their employment. For this he caught some flack from disapproving circles. This entry gives the details of the encounter in which Pentecost relates how much he'd gained in holiness since heeding a "still, small voice" that told him to give up tobacco. Spurgeon's famously replies

notwithstanding what brother Pentecost has said, I intend to smoke a good cigar to the glory of God before I go to bed to-night. ...If anybody can show me in the Bible the command, 'Thou shalt not smoke,' I am ready to keep it; but I haven't found it yet. I find ten commandments, and it's as much as I can do to keep them; and I've no desire to make them into eleven or twelve.

There is much more, and it is all worth reading.

Full disclosure: I smoke very seldom, but very much enjoy it when I do. I prefer pipe smoke, but often yield to the comparative ease of cigar smoking, since my pipe keeps needing to be re-lit! I'll smoke for a few days, and then not again for weeks, or (more often) months. But I find that if I am distraught, or if I am baffled by some perplexing question, often a cigar or a pipe is Elisha's musician to me, clearing my mind and focusing my thoughts. I've made some of my best and most important decisions, and wrestled through some very difficult turns or twists in a sermon or a paper, with the soothing aid of a pipe or cigar.

As Spurgeon goes on to say, it isn't for everyone, and if it troubles the conscience, one should abstain, for "whatever is not of faith is sin" (Romans 14:23).

I can't immediately source this story, so it may be apocryphal. Once a brother is said to have reproached Spurgeon for his cigar smoking. He replied that he would give it up if he ever smoked to excess.

"And what do you regard as excess?" asked the brother.

"More than one at a time," was Spurgeon's reply.

Tolkien on Sex

Albert Mohler has a helpful essay on J. R. R. Tolkien's writing to his son on the temptation, dangers, allure, and proper meaning of sex. Though a lover of Tolkien's The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings for decades, I've never been able to find final satisfaction on Tolkien's own standing before Christ. It is well-known that he was a devoted Roman Catholic, which tells one both much and nothing at the same time. But everything Mohler cites from his writing is good, well-put, and helpful from a Christian perspective.

Lola and the sovereignty of God

I just re-watched the vibrantly creative German film Lola rennt (Run, Lola) with my oldest son, Matthew. It's quite the roller-coaster ride! This movie embraces a unique premise, as do the films Memento and The Sixth Sense -- though it is like neither film.

The filmmaker probably did not mean to say anything profound about God, yet he did, indirectly.

I despise unannounced spoilers, and will try to avoid them; if you're going to see it, I advise you to do the same. Read no reviews until you see the movie. (Be warned: there is a fair amount of German cursing, very plain in the subtitles.)

Stylistically, this film hits the ground (if you'll pardon me) running, and keeps up the pace. Genres are mixed, camera styles and music combine to tell a driving, moving, pressing, insistent tale. It is at least meant to raise questions. Indeed, the opening narration poses such broad and probing questions as "Who are we? Where do we come from? Where are we going? How do we know what we believe to know? Why do we believe anything at all?"

The movie's contents uniquely press the question of what colossal difference might be made by the slightest variation in history. What might have happened if I had arrived twenty seconds earlier, or later? What if I'd ordered a burger instead of a salad? What if this conversation had gone two sentences longer, or two shorter? What if I'd bypassed this woman instead of bumping into her? Run, Lola haunts us with these hypotheticals, riveting our eyes to the screen... and the subtitles.

Of course, no mortal can answer these questions with anything approaching certainty. From the total number of available facts, we all know the slimmest fragment of a percentage. And of the facts we know, we understand only a small subset, we assign the correct significance and meaning to an assortment that a tiny baby could hold in his hand. On this at least, Bildad had it right: "For we are but of yesterday and know nothing, for our days on earth are a shadow" (Job 8:9).

And yet, on the basis of this microscopic database, we so often feel fit to judge God.

We pray about a situation, and it turns out "wrong." We think in our heart of hearts that God slipped up, He goofed. Seldom would we say as much; but in our internal ledger, God gets a red mark. A malicious mistake on His part? We hope not. Ill-informed and inattentive? Perhaps. At any rate, it is the kindest (!) interpretation we can put on His mistake.

Yet of course the truth of the matter is that God's omniscience, while it may be what theologians have called a "communicable attribute" (i.e. we share a small replica of it), hasn't been communicated much! Yes, we know a few bits of information here and there; but God knows all, exhaustively, without exception, past, present, and future. We understand a subset of what we do know; yet God's understanding is literally inexhausible, infinite, unlimited, and absolute. He gives each consideration the perfect weight, sees its significance perfectly, assigns it its place in the grand scheme of things inerrantly. And He does this flawlessly, the first time, every time.

God never has to reconsider, rethink, regroup. He never has to revise. It isn't that He is unwilling to do these things, or too proud; it is that they are utterly unnecessary. When you're right, first time and all the time, there's no need for an eraser or a "delete" key!

Again, the contrast with us could scarcely be more stark.

Have you ever known the sort of person (or worse have you ever been the sort of person), who seemingly never reconsiders or rethinks? Who never goes back over a decision, a stance, a statement, to analyze it anew and apply fresh information? Who never repents or apologizes?

There is only one Being in all the universe who can behave this way, and not be a pigheaded fool. That would be God.

And yet we have heard people say that God messed up here or there, that God dropped this or that ball, that God wrongly allowed something to happen. God help us, we've probably said or thought it ourselves.

But have you ever thought through that feeling, that attitude? Have you ever seen what breathtaking arrogance, what stunning audacity, what world-stopping hubris fuels such an attitude? Have you ever owned up to the fact that you and I are pitting our pathetic little blowing dustpile of knowledge against literally infinite knowledge and inexhaustible wisdom, and that we are saying "I got it right, and You got it wrong"?

This is why people so often hate the ending of the book of Job.

God allowed Job to be tempted and tried harshly and severely. It is impossible not to sympathize for him. At first, Job takes it astonishingly well. But as his "friends" keep doing amateur surgery with their broken plastic butter knives, seaching for what sin he committed to deserve and cause his misfortunes, Job becomes unhinged. He charges God with injustice (Job 27:2), and wrongdoing. Job "was righteous in his own eyes" (Job 32:1). He had "justified himself rather than God" (Job 32:2).

So then, when God appears, we want Him to answer Job. We want Him to explain things to Job, on Job's terms. We want Him to say, "Here's why I did what I did. Let me explain it in a way you can understand and accept." And then we want Him to ask, "Is that okay with you now?"

But He does nothing of the sort. In fact, He isn't even what we would call nice. He literally rides in on a whirlwind, and says in effect, "Job, you want to argue as equals, fine. All I ask is a chance to glance over your resume first, make sure we really are equals. And then, you're on."

So Yahweh challenges Job, "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements - surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone, 7 when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?...."

And that's just the opening sally.

On and on this barrage goes, until Job confesses His smallness and ignorance.

"I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted. 'Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?' Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know. 'Hear, and I will speak; I will question you, and you make it known to me.' I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes." (Job 42:2-7)

This leaves us dissatisfied. Job is not answered. Instead, he is humbled.

But this of course misses the point. Job is answered; we just really hate the answer. We want a God big enough to give us what we want, but small enough to bend to our will. Big enough to save and keep us, but small enough to deal with us on our terms, accept our agenda, share our values and goals.

And so Job gets the answer, "I get to be God, and you don't. Your role is to trust Me, fear Me, respect Me. Get that premise straight. Then we can talk." Job's blessedness is restored, and we "have seen the outcome from the Lord: the Lord is very compassionate and merciful" (James 5:11 HCSB). God is sovereign and absolute, and we are not; He is moved, at any time, by considerations to which we have absolutely no access. Our wisest course is to humble ourselves under His mighty hand, that He might exalt us in due time (cf. James 4:6-7; 1 Peter 5:5b-6).

Back to Lola, then. God does know what would have happened if you'd taken Freshman Trig instead of Intro to Geometry. God does know what would have happened if you'd gone to the 4:40 showing of Fantastic Four instead of the 6:30 showing, or if you'd seen Star Wars 3 instead.
And God knows what would have happened if you'd married this man instead of that, gotten this job instead of that, used this preposition instead of that... He knows all of it, and furthermore He understands all of it in all of its infinite implications stretching from this moment until the end of the Millennial Kingdom.

And knowing all that, He rules history, from the toss of the dice (Proverbs 16:33) to the thoughts of the king (Proverbs 22:1), from the course of the stars (Psalm 136:7-9) to the fall of a sparrow (Matthew 10:29). And what's more, from that perspective of infinite, inexhausible knowledge, He determines the course of your life and mine. We must plan our way, but God overrules (Proverbs 16:9).

We can fight it and make ourselves miserable and useless arguing against it, or we can accept it and glory in it and rejoice in God's wise goodness. But we can't change it.

A man's steps are from the LORD;
how then can man understand his way?
(Proverbs 20:24)

I know, O LORD, that the way of man is not in himself,
that it is not in man who walks to direct his steps.
(Jeremiah 10:23)

These are some thoughts that running Lola provokes. These, and one more:

So then it does not depend on the man who wills or the man who runs, but on God who has mercy (Romans 9:16 NASB)

Because the "old Jesus" is so uncool and out-of-date

(I speak as a fool.)

Apparently the world isn't scary enough with Jan Crouch's hair on the loose. NBC feels compelled to inflict a new religious show on a jaded, clueless American public.

It's about a committed Christian pastor, who regularly preaches Christ-centered sermons from the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures. Though a flawed man, he is a fully-realized, compassionate, principled, sympathetic character who consistently seeks to live out his Biblical faith. The series will show him in a series of gritty, realistic situations, putting to practice his faith in Christ amid a hostile society.

Hahahaha, had you going! As if! I get the impression these Hollywood folks have never personally known even one practicing Christian, judging by their inability to create one for a show.

No, it's about one of the two kinds of good clergymen Hollywood knows: total apostates, and "conflicted" clergy. Since this one is a "conflicted Episcopalian priest," he may be the Daily Double.

I can see the suits coming up with this idea now. They're in a smoke-filled... er, brie-filled backroom, scratching their heads, at a loss.

Suddenly one jumps up. "I know what to do!" Heads raise wearily. "We've lost the 'Left Behind' fundies, and the 'Passion' Roman Catholics, right?" Expressions do not change. "Well, we can get them both in one show! We'll call it 'The Book of Daniel,' and get the Bible-thumpers. Only... only Daniel will be some priest's name, not the Bible book. He'll be a cool priest, you know, with questions and issues and all, not some fire-and-brimstone theocrat. And we'll have Jesus talk to him." Looking at the alarmed faces, he hastily adds, "Well, not that Jesus. He'll be a cool, contemporary, modern-day Jesus... so we don't lose our current demographic."

And so the perennial cycle repeats. Not content with a Bible they don't believe, understand, nor practice, religious types bury it under additional books and doctrines that end up replacing the word of God with the traditions of men (Mormons, Roman Catholics), and the irreligious just make it up entirely, and/or concoct wild tales to distract interest from it (Passover Plot, da Vinci Code).

Anything but just deal with what's there.

You know, on reflection, that last sentence could summarize our generation.

Darker days than Reformation times?

Phil Johnson says yes and, as usual, he's got a good point, and makes it well. He observes that the enemies of the faith were, from the perspective believers of that day, clearly Them. Today, they are Us -- assuming that "we" can be grouped under the increasingly gelatinous label of "Evangelicals" (a term more flexible than either Reed Richards or Elastigirl).

And besides, Phil this has scary image of Jan Crouch which, if it isn't one of the Signs of the Apocalypse, probably should be.



If Tetzel had a toup?

"Jan Crouch ...has added so many tawdry pink hair extensions to her hairdo that it now rivals the size of the dome on St. Peter's" (Phil Johnson)

So many fads, so little time

Up to speed on the latest and greatest rehashed long-discredited diversion — er, I mean "trend" — in church-planting?

Get a brief howdy-do for the "Emergent Church Movement" with Al Mohler's review/summary of D. A. Carson's book Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church: Understanding a Movement and Its Implications.

Mohler's treatment is in two parts, which I will creatively term Part One and Part Two.