A text without a context

For Pentecost this last Lord's Day, I preached from John 15 and 16, in the course of which it occurred to me that many Christians might like to hear their long-winded pastors echo Jesus' words in John 16:12: "I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now."

As "a former Lutheran pastor transitioning to the Roman Catholic Church," Russell Saltzman doesn't have to worry about how stepping on toes might threaten his livelihood anymore, as is displayed by his "Advice to Inactive Christians." He says what every pastor would like to say to the person who hasn't attended services in years and suggests that he might start again if only the pastor and Church would accomodate some personal preference. I'm tempted to quote the whole thing, but as that would be pointless, let this give you reason to go read it yourself:

There is a singularly arrogant message in these sorts of gesturing declarations. The inactive member is saying he or she sets the terms of his or her return and it all depends on likability. [Raul] Castro framed it well: “If the pope continues this way.” Inactive members expect, as G.K. Chesterton remarked, that “Christians must embrace every creed except their own.”

Cutting the Eucharistic knot (Calvin's Institutes, Battles edition: p. 1416, vol. 2)

Presbyterians occasionally mock the doctrines of transubstantiation and consubstantiation because a physical presence of Christ in the sacrament of the Lord's Supper seems to them inherently ridiculous, if not offensive to reason. It's certainly offensive to my reason, but I have some sympathy with Lutherans and Romanists who struggle to understand how Christ can really and actually be present if he is not physically present. As the literature on the Lord's Supper over the millenia amply demonstrates, determining the precise relationship between the materials of the bread and cup and the physical body of Christ is where many Christians and theological traditions get stuck.

Alexander the Great, so they say, took a non-linear approach to loosing the Gordian Knot, which was impossible to untie: he cut it in half. In a passage explaining why the administration of the Lord's Supper must be accompanied by the preaching of the Word, John Calvin discusses an error which arose because this did not happen.

[T]hey did not observe that those promises by which consecration is accomplished are directed not to the elements themselves but to those who receive them. Certainly Christ does not say to the bread that it shall become his body, but he commands his disciples to eat and promises them participation in his body and blood. Paul's teaching takes the same form, that the promises are offered to believers along with the bread and the cup.

Attentive listening to, and exegesis of, the words of institution found in the Gospels and 1 Corinthians 11 will keep us from focusing on what happens to the elements of the Supper: instead, they direct our attention to its recipients. Since they receive the sacraments by faith, and faith is a gift of the Holy Spirit, we begin to see the Spirit is the agent who unites us to Christ.

Proper exegesis, Calvin suggests, offers the Romanist or Lutheran the freedom to step outside his or her dilemma and approach the sacramental knot in a non-linear and more fruitful manner.

What is marriage?

You may have an answer to that question, but it may not be the correct one. In "What is Marriage to Evangelical Millennials?," Abigail Rine helpfully points out that a revisionist definition of marriage (marriage is a formalized romantic attachment) took root in our culture, and in evangelical circles, several decades ago, and has rather completely usurped the much older understanding of marriage which is rooted in Bibilical, natural, and common law.

It's an extremely helpful explanation of both the origin of today's same-sex marriage debate and why evangelicals seem unable to speak coherently to, much less against, it. It's also a helpful reminder that what the modern mind assumes takes for granted as the natural order of things is, in fact, often only a philosophical fashion of very recent vintage.

And those of us who are dismayed by recent cultural trends may be heartened by the realization that fashions change.

Which got eaten first?

Evangelical vs. Liturgical?

My critical review of Melanie C. Ross' Evangelical vs. Liturgical? Defying a Dichotomy appears in this month's Ordained Servant.