Pagan Christianity?: A Review (4)

Having dealt with the place where Christians are to gather, Viola and Barna go on to discuss what should happen in their gatherings. While Pagan Christianity? is mostly about what should not be happening, there are some statements of what should (see 78-79); but they are mostly of an anecdotal nature. In the absence of a developed alternative to what is being condemned and, more importantly, a developed theology behind it, I shall begin here by setting out some general lines of thought before going on to look at the authors’ concerns in the remaining chapters of the book. In particular, I want to look at the ideas of the church as the Temple and the Body of Christ, and at the Priesthood of All Believers. I cannot say that I am interacting with the authors as I am not sure from the book what exactly their views are on these subjects. However, what I write here will be the basis on which I shall interact with what they do say.

At the outset, it is clear from the epistle to the Hebrews that when we speak of the church as Temple and Priesthood, we are not dealing with sacrifice for the removal of sin. That was a once for all act done by Christ. When we do speak of believers being built up into a Temple, it is one of the illustrations used to describe the relationship between Christ and His people. He is the chief cornerstone, and His people are living stones built in relation to Him and upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets (Eph. 2:19-22; 1 Peter 2:4-8). The emphasis is upon the Temple as the place where God dwells; He is present in the midst of His people (Ex. 40:34-35; 2 Chr. 5:13-6:2; Eph 2:22).

Not only are believers being built together as a Temple, they are also a Priesthood. As this Priesthood is a description of the church, it is a Priesthood of All Believers. The function of this Priesthood is to offer up spiritual sacrifices which are acceptable to God because they come through our Great High Priest: Jesus, His Son(1 Peter 2:5, 9-10; Heb. 13:15-16; Rom 12:1-2; Heb. 4:14ff; Rev. 1:6). Again, we see that there is a relation of Christ to His people: High Priest and priests. Moreover, we also see that the sacrifices of this Priesthood are independent of gifting or vocation. There is no priestly class or caste among believers, for all are priests. Nor is there a direct use of particular or specific spiritual gifts associated with the offerings of this Priesthood; each and all serve in the offering up of self, and of praise and good works. When speaking of gifts, Paul uses the illustration of a body.

From the passages which deal with that illustration (Romans 12; 1 Corinthians 12, Ephesians 4), there are some points which have to be made. The first is that everyone is not the same; each person has their own place and function in the body. The second is that gifts are not given to the body; they are given to members of the body. The third is that gifts are given to members of the body, and the gifted are given for the building up of the body.

In chapter three of Pagan Christianity?, the authors describe a number of different liturgies and orders of service from various periods of church history and find them wanting. The alternative which they present is their idea of what a church service would look like in the light of 1 Corinthians 14:

Most gatherings in institutional churches do include singing and teaching; however, they’re done in an atmosphere far different from the one prescribed in 1 Corinthians 14. This passage describes a gathering with open participation by every member to bring a teaching, a revelation, a song, an exhortation, etc (verse 26); interjections by the members while others are speaking (verse 30); and spontaneous prophesying by everyone (verses 24, 31). (80)

The most striking thing about this description is that it seems to describe the situation which Paul intends to correct. His instruction is that members contribute according to the gift(s) which they have been given; for example, that prophets prophesy, and that prophets may be interrupted, under particular circumstances, by other prophets. In short, what the authors describe is without form and void, while what Paul would have is decent and orderly.

Witnesses to an Execution

I should like to draw your attention to two criminals and a centurion. They were witnesses to the crucifixion of Jesus; and, for all three of them, their presence at Golgotha that Friday morning was part of their jobs. The thieves were there because for them crucifixion was an occupational hazard. The centurion was there doing something which was on his list of duties. Yet, for all three it was a defining experience which has brought them fame even to this day.

The first of the thieves was going to die; he had but hours to live. Yet, he joined in with the rulers and the soldiers who scoffed and mocked and railed. He was a hard man about to die a hard death. Still, the thought of him leaves one so profoundly sad.

The second thief rebuked his former partner in crime. Actually being crucified had focused this man’s mind. He had been before a judge and had been found guilty. He is about to face the Judge and to hear the same verdict. The One on the cross in between himself and his colleague is his only hope. He knows who Jesus is. He puts his trust in him. And he receives an assurance that not only will he not be forgotten, but that that very day he will be with Christ in Paradise.

To this day, the thief on the cross is a symbol of hope. It is not too late until it is too late. He reminds us that in the final analysis, it is self-abandonment to Christ which saves.

The centurion got his rank by conspicuous bravery and by having and being able to instill iron discipline. He is an officer in an army of occupation. On that Friday, he was in charge. But that day there was something different: something different about the condemned man on the middle cross. By the time that it was all over, he was convinced that the One on that centre cross was not only righteous, but that He was the Son of God; and he said so. Had this centurion been sent to investigate the empty tomb, one might think that the circumstances warranted his statement. But, he made it at the crucifixion. People had said that no one spoke like Jesus did. The centurion adds that no one died like Jesus did.

Three men at Calvary: one was a soldier and two were thieves. The soldier added the postscript to Pilate’s ‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews’: the Son of God. The thieves leave us with two responses to the Son of God, to Christ crucified: mockery or worship.

Pagan Christianity?: A Review (3)

In the first part of chapter two, Viola and Barna claim that the NT church met in houses as a matter of principle and that the change from meeting in houses to meeting in church buildings was a result of Constantine bring pagan forms and practices into the church. From the evidence found in the footnotes to this chapter, it could equally, or better, be argued that the NT church met in private properties, domestic and commercial, which were over time adapted to suit congregational needs; that once the persecution of the church came to an end, congregations moved into church buildings; and that the development of dedicated space within private property units paved the way to the simple halls erected by believers at first after Christianity’s recognition by the state. The great change, then, was not that from house to church building, as the authors would have it, but from simple halls to elaborate basilicas (18n48).

The second part of the chapter outlines the development of the simple hall into the basilica. Here the authors note the introduction of pagan architecture and furnishings, showing how Constantinian influence brought into the church many features of imperial religious and civil life. There is much of interest in this section; yet, there is surely more going on in this period than the absorption of paganism. There are theological and ecclesiological changes going on too: there is the clergy-laity divide, including the issues of priesthood, altar, and sacrifice; there are Old Testament influences. Again, the authors’ text and footnotes do not quite gel (27, 27n121). The reality is more complex than the authors’ thesis of pagan influenced Christianity. However, their basic point of a return to temple, priests, and sacrifice is valid.

Viola and Barna then go on to talk about how worship, furnishings, and architecture come together in High and Low Church models. It is clear that the Reformation changes were not radical enough for them; and there are some points which I might have raised here but which I shall keep for when the subjects to which they relate are discussed in later chapters.

Before dealing with two further points, I shall draw this review of chapter two of Pagan Christianity? to a conclusion by saying that I find the case made in this book for house churches not proven. The real issue is not the location or ownership of the space but the use of it. Yes, there are many features of Protestant church buildings which contradict Reformed theology and worship principles. There is no reason why Protestants should continue to use pre-Reformation language to describe the parts of their buildings. And, again, I shall return to aspects of this later. Nevertheless, just because there are cathedrals, it does not mean there should not be buildings specifically built for the use of a Christian congregation.

The first of my other points the very valid concern raised by the authors regarding the money tied up in real estate and in the maintenance of the same (41). I agree that there is much more money spent than is necessary. However, there are many other considerations about the space used by a congregation than its financial cost alone. With congregations meeting in people’s homes many of the costs are hidden and not all of them can be measured in dollars.

My other point is that the authors recognise the connectional nature of congregations. They speak of the unity of the church in a city even though its members may worship in a number of locations (44). In the NT, there is the church in a city – Jerusalem, Ephesus, Corinth – and churches meeting in peoples homes – Priscilla’s and Aquila’s for example. Yet, the controlling unit is the city. It is the church in the city which is addressed by Paul in his epistles. It is the church in the city which has elders. It is here that we find NT Presbyterianism: a number of congregations united in a wider identity and with a common leadership.

Pagan Christianity?: A Review (2)

The first chapter of this book begins with a story which the authors describe as ‘a humorous way to illustrate how scores of Christians go through the motions on Sunday morning without considering why they do what they do’(8). The punch line is that ‘[a]s startling as it may sound, almost everything that is done in our contemporary churches has no basis in the Bible’ (4).

The second section of the chapter begins with a brief introduction to Socrates – the pagan philosopher, not the church historian – and goes on to say that Christians today are conditioned by their leaders and do not to use the Socratic method regarding the origins of our practices. The concluding section invites us to ask the questions, pointing out that the Judaic influences on Christianity were short lived and that, in the authors’ opinion, the roots of our practices are to be found in the polytheism of the Roman Empire.

Chapter one, then, sets the scene for the following chapters in which hard questions will be asked and answered.

Chapter two tackles the church building. It moves from talking about temples, priests, and sacrifices to house church and church buildings to exegeting the architecture and furnishings of church buildings. The conclusion is that church buildings are of pagan origin and Christians should meet in private homes, though they may rent larger facilities for large group occasions other than their regular meetings for mutual encouragement.

Even before I can go on to talk of the positive things in this chapter, I have to point out that the text and the footnotes do not always tell the same story. However, there is much of interest in this chapter about the development of ecclesiastical architecture from the time of Constantine until today. There is also much of interest about the meaning of architecture and furnishings. And I shall return to that later.

The first point which the authors make in this chapter is that the Christians of the 1^st century, whether Jewish or pagan, came from backgrounds which had temples, priests, and sacrifices, but that New Testament (NT) Christianity had none of these things. But here things get confusing. There is a complex view of scriptural imagery which has both Christ as the Temple and the people of God as the Temple which I shall not take up here because it ties into other themes brought out more fully in later chapters. Suffice it to say here that the main point, with which I do agree, is that Christianity as a religion has no need of sacred space.

I should, nevertheless, like to take issue with four reasons given by the authors to support their contention that the early church met in homes as a matter of principle.

First, the authors say that the early believers did not associate ‘church’ with a building and that the first recorded use of the word church to describe a meeting place was by Clement of Alexandria circa AD 190.(12) However, while Clement has given us the earliest extant written uses the word ‘church’ to describe the place of meeting and of ‘going to church’, it does not mean that he is the earliest user of the idioms. We find a similar usage in the NT regarding the synagogue , a thing with which the earliest believers were well acquainted. There, the word used for the gathering of the people is given by extension to the place of gathering. And since, as the authors observe, Clement was speaking of a home in which a congregation met, the house, or the portion of it used, might only be ‘church’ while the church was there being a church. However, from both archaeological evidence and the use of the term domus ecclesiae (house of the church) (15, 15n24), the space in the house might only be used as a place of Christian worship. In either case, though more strongly in the latter, this would make the association between the people, the function, and the place strong enough to follow the same usage pattern as synagogue. I think it more than likely that the early believers associated what they did with the place in which they did it. For example, in James 2:2, the word synagogue is used; but in the context the definitions ‘gathering’ and ‘place of gathering’ overlap.

Second, the the authors say that the ordinary weekly meetings of the church were held in homes: NT Christianity was a house church movement. Now, it is obvious from a reading of the NT that believers met in private homes; but we know that they met in other places too, such as the Temple and the hall of Tyrannus. I am not convinced that a clear distinction can be made between the gatherings or meetings held in them and those held in homes. Yet, if there be a distinction, as the authors claim (42n211, 43-44), it is certainly not so clear a one as that, for example, between Paul’s evangelistic preaching in the synagogue on the Sabbath and his teaching of believers in homes on the Lord’s Day, nor is it so clear that it can bear the weight that the authors would place upon it. I do not think that there was a conscious divide in the immediately post-Penticost church between what was done at the Temple and what was done in houses. Nor do I think that the hall of Tyrannus was used solely for evangelistic purposes and not as a meeting place for believers.

Third, turning to the historical/archaeological case, the authors’ sources say that ‘Christians of the first three centuries usually met in private residences that had been converted into suitable gathering places for the Christian community’ (14n22), that ‘Christians who met in insulae (islands), multi-storied blocks containing shops and housing, unobtrusively began to convert private spaces into domestic complexes tailored to fit congregational needs’ (15n28), and that ‘the Greco-Roman environment of the second and third centuries was quite open to many groups adapting private buildings for communal and religious use’ (15n23). So, it appears that house meetings were not a peculiarly Christian phenomenon and that the houses used were specially modified to provide dedicated space for congregational activities. The authors say that this does not amount to a church building, but it seems to me that function is much more relevant than either ownership or whether or not the building is free-standing.

Fourth, in the text, Viola and Barna state:

Some have argued that this [the Christians did not have any special buildings] was because the Christians were not permitted to erect church buildings. But that is not true. Meeting in homes was a conscious choice of the early Christians. (15)

However, in the reference attached (15n23), on the other hand, they say that ‘[s]ome have argued that the pre-Constantine Christians were poor and could not own property’. The authors deny this and point out that during the persecutions under Valerian, all property owned by Christians was seized. I have no doubt that meeting in adapted private properties, domestic or commercial, was a conscious choice of early believers. But why? The reason given in the text is that they were not permitted to erect church buildings. The authors deny this, but the footnote gives another reason why they might not have erected buildings (poverty), which does not support the statement made in the text. However, there is something in the note which does give some indication of why the early Christians might not have been permitted to erect church buildings. Judaism and paganism were legally recognised religions in the Roman Empire; Christianity was not. Not only was it an illegal religion, Christians were persecuted for periods of varying lengths which began in AD 67, 81,108, 162, 192, 235, 249, 257, 274, 303. This might go some way to explain why believers chose to meet in ‘unobtrusively’ adapted private properties, and why that changed, as the authors quote Schaff as saying, ‘after Christianity was acknowledged by the state and empowered to hold property’ (18n48).

I do not think that the authors have proved their point that Christians met in houses out of principle rather than for pragmatic and/or circumstantial reasons.

Pagan Christianity?: A Review (1)

This is the first in a series of brief articles in which I intend to review and respond to the book Pagan Christianity?: Exploring the Roots of our Church Practices, written by Frank Viola and George Barna. At the outset, I must confess that this is a difficult book to review. The first reason is that it is a very negative book. The second is that it is not irenic in tone. The third is that it does not build its arguments but rather it asserts and footnotes. However, before dealing with these difficulties, I shall describe the book.

Pagan Christianity? is published by BarnaBooks which is an imprint of Tyndale House Publishers. The edition in my possession is a hardback of xxxiii and 295 pages in length. It is a 2008 revised and updated version of a 2002 book by Viola which was published by Present Testimony Ministry. After the dedication, the publishers preface, the acknowledgements, a preface by Viola, and an introduction by Barna, there follow twelve chapters, and then some appendices. There are no indices: no index of Scripture passages cited, no index of subjects treated, and no index of person quoted or referenced.

To return to the difficulties, the negativity of this book is rather unrelenting. It lists what the authors consider to be error and its origins. It does so with broad and heavy stokes. It gives little indication of what the authors would present as the true way of doing things; for that, one will have to buy Viola’s often footnoted Reimagining Church which will be out in the summer of 2008.

There are a number of gratuitous remarks and unnecessary adjectives and adverbs in this book. Viola correctly points out that his tone is nothing compared to Luther’s in his polemic writings (251), but it does create an unnecessary adversarial spirit, provoking one to respond in kind. For example, I could say that the publishers of this book include a special preface in order to distance themselves from its content. But, as you can see from what they actually say, I could have said that much less aggressively and with more precision:

Tyndale does not necessarily agree with all of the authors’ positions and realises that some readers may not either. At the same time, we stand united with Frank and George in our desire to see the church operate according to biblical principles and be a full expression of God’s grace and truth. Furthermore, the authors raise important questions based on their careful research, study, and experiences, and we believe these questions should not be ignored. Our aim is for you to consider their conclusions and pray seriously about your response. (ix)

My remaining difficulty with reviewing this book is that the authors make statements and then provide a footnote to support the assertion being made. However, in one recurring instance, the book upon which their case is being based (David C. Norrington’s To Preach or Not to Preach? The Church’s Urgent Question) is out of print; and in another, the book is yet to appear. People are quoted or are said to have said or done something, but the reference is to a secondary source (e.g. 15n29). Proof-texting is greatly disparaged in this book; yet, that is the way in which most Scripture references appear. There is very little exegetical work to be found, and where it is (e.g. 184-185) there are no references. For all the footnotes, and there are many, and for all the books in the eleven page bibliography, points are not proved on the page and it is doubtful that the average, or even the intended reader, will have access to the sources listed. To present this book as being the result of careful research and study with its lack of key quotations and primary source references is not fair to the reader.

As time permits, I hope to review and respond to each chapter of this book individually in a series of posts. It will become clear that there are a number of things on which I am in agreement with Viola and Barna. However, I doubt that that will be of interest to them; for they have an agenda, and anything short of it is still pagan.

‘Free at the point of use!’

When, between 1946-48, the British government was explaining the new National Health Service to the people, one of the phrases used was, ‘Free at the point of use!’. I have often thought that the phrase also accurately describes the grace of God.

The idea that the Attlee government wished to convey was that one would not have to pay when one went to the doctor’s: the service was ‘Free at the point of use!’. There is another idea in the phrase which adds honesty to its appeal. While one did not have to pay at the surgery, one still had to pay through increased taxes. ‘Free at the point of use!’ does not mean absolutely free.

Grace is God’s unmerited, or undeserved, favour. It is by grace that we are saved through faith; and that not of ourselves: it is the gift of God. It was when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly. (Eph. 2:1-9; Rom. 5:6) The grace of God comes to us free at the point of use. However, the old Sunday School definition holds true: GRACE is God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. Free grace is not cheap grace; its price is Calvary’s Cross.

In some health care systems, a ‘co-pay’ is added at the point of use. The thought is that if nothing is charged then people will not appreciate the service. This thought has worried Churchmen through the ages. When asked ‘What must I do to be saved?’, they reply, ‘Accept God’s gift by believing in the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved.’. But, that can be embarrassing; there comes a temptation to add: to say, in effect, ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and do what we are about to tell you so that you will appreciate how great God’s gift is.’ However, the ‘so that you will appreciate how great God’s gift is’ might not be spoken aloud.

Yielding to such a temptation is disastrous. No matter how carefully presented, the clear implication to the hearer is that Christ’s work on the Cross is in some way deficient, and that it must be supplemented. In attempting to emphasis the value of God’s gift, the actual price has been disparaged.

Dead in trespasses and sins, we can pay neither premiums nor co-pays. Christ has paid the price in full. God’s gift of salvation comes to us ‘Free at the point of use’.

Apostolic Succession

Part of the answer given by the Roman Catholic Church to why the title of ‘Church’ is not used with regard to those ‘Christian Communities born out of the Reformation of the sixteenth century’ is that ‘according to Catholic doctrine, these Communities do not enjoy apostolic succession in the sacrament of Orders, and are, therefore, deprived of a constitutive element of the Church’. (1)

Do we not enjoy apostolic succession?

We do, but not in the sense which the Church of Rome claims: that every truly ordained person can trace a line through their bishop back to the apostles; that, as it were, those upon whom the apostles laid hands have laid hands on us. Nor do we in the sense that there is a ‘sacrament of Orders’, that grace is conferred by the laying on of hands, that a spiritual gift is passed on from the apostles down in the act of ordination and lost if the physical continuity is broken. Nor do we in the sense that without such a line of truly ordained men we have no Church.

We do in the sense that we continue in the apostles’ doctrine. The risen Christ sent His apostles into the world to make disciples and to teach them all the things which He had commanded them. The apostle Paul was not there on that occasion, yet he is emphatic that his apostleship and gospel were from Christ: even down to the details of what was done in the upper room. The commands of Christ have been passed on to us in the New Testament and we hold fast that form of sound words which we have from the apostles. (2)

We do in the sense that we continue the apostolic practice and instruction of setting apart men to the offices commanded in the New Testament. We set apart men to the position of deacon with the function of practical service. We set apart men to the position which is variously called elder, bishop, or pastor; their function is to rule or administer. We set men apart to be teachers, minsters of the word, who join together with the rulers in the eldership. There is a continuity of ordination – setting apart – to office – an association of position and function – in the Church: a continuity which does not require the perpetuation of an un-broken line, but that until the Lord’s return, there will be ministers of the word, ruling elders, and deacons serving Christ by serving His people. (3)

We do in the sense that we continue in the apostle’s service to the Church. Christ gave His Church apostles, prophets, evangelists, and teachers and pastors for her perfecting, service, and edification. They were not given for the Church’s being, but for her well being. Building on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, we continue the work. (4)

(1)http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/cfaith/documents/rc_con_cfaith_doc_20070629_responsa-quaestiones_en.html

(2)Matt. 28:16-20; Gal. 1:1, 11-12; 1 Cor. 11:23; 2 Tim. 1:13, 3:16-7; 2 Peter 3:15-16.

(3)1 Tim. 3:1-16; Acts 6:1-7; Titus 1:5-9; Acts 20:17, 20; 1 Peter 5:1-4; Rom. 12:6-8; 1 Cor. 12:28; Eph. 4:11-16; 1 Tim. 5:17.

(4)Eph. 4:11-16; Eph. 2:19-22.

Whose view is the Reformed view?

There is much talk of replacing the so called ‘Zwinglian’ view of the Lord’s Supper with the authentic Reformed view: that of John Calvin. But is Calvin’s view of the sacrament the Reformed view?

My answer is no for three reasons. The first reason is that there is another person who has had an arguably greater influence on Reformed thinking on this subject. That man is Heinrich Bullinger. He worked with Calvin to draw up the Consensus Tigurinus which set out a unified Swiss Reformed position on the Lord’s Supper, thus bringing together Zurich and Geneva. He wrote the Second Helvetic Confession which became an ecumenical symbol of Reformed unity as it was adopted as either the primary or a secondary subordinate standard by a number of Reformed churches. His Decades became one of the most widely used theological textbooks of the latter part of the 16^th century.

For instance, Bullinger’s formulation of the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper influenced the Westminster Standards at a foundational level. The doctrinal standards of the Church of Scotland going into the Assembly were the Scots Confession of 1560 and the Second Helvetic Confession (sans references to holy days). From his correspondence, the degree of Bullinger’s influence on the English Reformation can be seen as he wrote to royalty and theologians during its formative years. The 39 Articles, the Church of England’s doctrinal standard going into the Assembly, were written by Cranmer at a time when he was in close contact with him. His Decades were well known to English Puritans, going through 77 editions in England compared to two editions of Calvin’s Institutes in the same time period. There were very few, if any, participants in the Westminster Assembly who had not been influenced by Bullinger when it came to drafting and settling upon a form of sound words.

The second reason is that it does not appear to be historically accurate. In the 19^th century, Charles Hodge of Princeton and R. L. Dabney of Virginia agreed that Calvin’s views had their difficulties. As it is usually the case that if one of the aforementioned gentlemen said ‘blue’, the other would say ‘grey’, there is something to their common opinion. The key here is that William Cunningham of New College, Edinburgh, was also the same mind; and if Hodge, Dabney, and Cunningham were agreed on a matter, it was not because they were in agreement with one another, but because they were all influenced by Turretin, an Italian Swiss who taught the Reformed consensus. Historically, the Consensus Tigurinus has been at the root of the expositions of the doctrine of the Lord’s Supper found in the theology textbooks written by Bullinger and Turretin, and, through the latter, those written by Hodge, Dabney, and Cunningham.

It is interesting to note that in his introduction to his edition of Robert Bruce’s sermons on the Lord’s Supper preached in 1589, T. F. Torrance claims that Bruce expounds the Calvinian doctrine of the sacrament; yet, given the little space allotted to the controverted areas of the discussion, the simplicity of Bruce’s preaching, and our inability to question the man at this time, on balance, an earlier editor of the sermons, John Laidlaw, more accurately states that Bruce is teaching the doctrine of the Second Helvetic Confession which had been adopted by the Church of Scotland in 1566.

Throughout the history of the Reformed church, there is evidence of a commitment to the consensus worked out between Zurich and Geneva in 1549 rather than to the personal views of one individual.

The third reason is that the Reformed view is not the view of any one person, but the view expressed in the Confessions and Catechisms of the Reformed churches. At the outset, that means Tigurinus. No matter the personal opinions of the recently departed Zwingli, of Bullinger, or of Calvin, or indeed the confessional positions of the churches of Zurich or Geneva, the Reformed position over against the Catholic or the Lutheran is found in the common ground expressed in the Consensus.

It is therefore less than helpful to dismiss Reformed views on the Lord’s Supper which differ from Calvin’s as ‘Zwinglian’. Nor is it helpful to share Calvin’s views on the Lord’s Supper and, on that basis, to claim that one holds the Reformed position. The Reformed position is the consensus position. Views held in addition to, but not contrary to, that position are legitimate personal opinions.  They are not a test of ones Reformedness.

Have Sermon Will Travel

That pretty well describes my first year after finishing theological training. While perhaps not the Paladin of preachers, I did cover a bit of the country taking services and doing locum work. The most memorable time out of that year was the three months that I spent on the island of Arran.

The church was in a farming community; and while there was a good turn out of farmers on a Sunday, I was never able to find them at home when I went visiting during the week. So, I devised a plan. For the first part, I got up in the middle of the night, dressed in coveralls and rubber boots, and met the dairy farmers in their milking parlours. This practice raised some smiles and led to some memorable breakfasts. The second part of the plan was to meet the beef and sheep farmers at the fortnightly marts. This practice, perhaps, raised more eyebrows than smiles at first. However, once it was known that I was not one of Her Majesty’s Inspectors of Taxes, but merely the minister, I got to talk to a lot of folk that I wouldn’t normally have come across unless a hospital bed had made a captive audience of them.

Then the plan bit back. One of the farmers signed me up for a lambing course (you know: dead lambs and a plastic bag inside a cardboard box). Well, I passed; but it changed my life. A hitherto unknown gift for obstetrics was made manifest. For the next seven years, I spent a few weeks each April volunteering in labour and delivery sheds.

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be. Yet, looking back on those days, I came away from them knowing a bit more. Sure, I discovered some of the wonders of birth; but all that was knocked into a cocked hat on the Saturday morning that a real midwife said, ‘It’s a girl!’

No, the lesson that was impressed upon me was the fact that I am finite. I applied all that I was taught on the course and by the shepherds who let me help them. I disinfected pens. I sprayed navels with iodine. I fed colostrum. I gave shots. Some lambs lived and others died; and I couldn’t do a thing about it. It was beyond my control.

That lesson has stayed with me professionally and personally. Professionally, I know the respective roles and abilities of the preacher and of the Holy Spirit. As it says in First Corinthians: ‘Who then is Paul, and who is Apollos, but ministers by whom ye believed, even as the Lord gave to every man? I have planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase. So then neither is he that planteth any thing, neither is he that water; but God that giveth the increase.’

Personally? I am a finite father who every night commits that girl and her wee brother into the care of the Almighty. My best isn’t good enough, but the best is all that He does.

‘Elementary, my dear Watson.’

Three of the most distinguishing features of Sherlock Holmes were not given to him by his creator, Arthur Conan Doyle. The deerstalker cap was put on his head by Sidney Paget, one of the illustrators of the original stories in the Strand Magazine; the calabash pipe was the contribution of William Gillette, an actor, who wanted to have a pipe near his mouth without his hand interfering with voice projection; and the title of this post was most likely coined in the 1929 film The Return of Sherlock Holmes. All that we know of the ‘real’ Holmes, Conan Doyle has told us through the writings of Dr. John Watson, a retired army surgeon who had served in India and had been wounded during the Maiwand Campaign in Afghanistan.

Just as our mental image of Holmes can be determined by non-original sources, so can our image of historical persons – and even our idea of Christ. God has given us a record of the life of Jesus of Nazareth. He has done so through the writings of the four evangelists: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The accuracy of the Gospel records is determined by the fact that being Scripture, their words are God-breathed and that the writers of these words were carried by the Holy Spirit as they wrote them. (2 Timothy 3:16; 2 Peter 1:21)

Given that we have this accurate record, we must be must be careful to bear in mind who the real Jesus is. At various points in history, it has been the fashion either to add to or to take away from the Gospel record. Whichever, the result is the same: a different Christ. When the essence of Christianity is trusting in Jesus Christ for salvation, it is absolutely necessary that we trust in the real person and not a figment of the imagination which happens to have the same name. Anything more or less than the Jesus of the Bible is not enough. It is an idol: blind, dumb, and powerless.

In the Basil Rathbone-Nigel Bruce versions of the Sherlock Holmes stories, Watson was played as a bit of a buffoon. That does a great disservice both to the good doctor and to the reader/viewer. Conan Doyle gave us Watson as an eyewitness to and narrator of the remarkable powers of the great consulting detective. Watson is a man of above average intelligence and he treats his readers as his peers. Similarly, the Gospel writers are our representative eyes and ears. If there is such a thing as an ordinary person, they are ordinary people. They do not talk down to us. They write that we, with them, might know and believe.