Theology Central

Theology Central exists as a place of conversation and information for faculty and friends of Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Posts include seminary news, information, and opinion pieces about ministry, theology, and scholarship.

Favorite Interests—Airliners

by Kevin Bauder | Aug 14, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

God has created humans to exercise dominion over the created order. Exercising dominion includes the ability to invent devices that allow us to bend the natural world to our use, sometimes in wonderful ways. Such machines and their products reflect the image of God in us. We often build them not merely to be useful, but also to be beautiful. Not surprisingly, people become intrigued with both the devices themselves as well as their products.

This fascination moves some people to collect intricately manufactured objects like coins or stamps. It is why some people work on cars or observe trains. Some people collect pens while others accumulate firearms. One man I know collects monkey wrenches. Rightly placed in our lives, such interests are wholesome, and they embody an aspect of what God made us to be and do.

Most of us can be drawn to more than one of these interests. We have to discipline our use of time and money so that our interests do not become obsessions. Given limited resources, we look for interests that require minimal investment. For me, one of those interests is the marvel of machines that enable people to fly.

This interest comes from my childhood, when my father worked for Capital Airlines and then for United Airlines after the two companies merged in 1961. The combined airline was the largest in the world. A perk of my father’s job was that our family could fly on passes. And we used them. I grew up flying more miles on more airplanes than most people fly during their entire lives.

Security was almost nonexistent in those days. Your friends could walk you unchallenged to your gate. And flying was a luxury. People dressed up to get on an airplane. Prices were regulated and air travel was expensive, so the airlines competed by providing services. The food was good. The first eggs Benedict I ever enjoyed was on a United Airlines 727. The meals were even good enough that sometimes the airline employees would use their passes to take their wives out to dinner—on the planes.

I was flying before I was conscious of it. The first flight that I remember took off when I was about four years old. It was on a Douglas DC-3, and it was just a short hop from Tri Cities Airport in Freeland, Michigan, to Bishop Field in Flint. I remember the roar as the twin radial engines coughed into life. I remember the airplane taxiing, and I remember being disappointed because it felt just like riding in a car. Then the craft thundered down the runway, and before I understood what was happening, all the buildings beneath me were growing smaller and smaller. It was an incredible sensation. I kept my face plastered to the window for the whole flight.

My first jet ride came a few years later. My parents roused us early in the morning as if we were going to school. But instead, we drove to the airport. We caught a quick flight to Chicago, and there we boarded a Douglas DC-8 for San Francisco. As ever, we flew first class—I didn’t even know about coach. I gazed out of the window for the entire trip. I specifically remember looking down on Yosemite National Park and on the Golden Gate Bridge. From SFO we caught a Convair 240 up to Sacramento. We were met by an uncle who drove us to Redding, where he was an engineer at the Shasta Dam.

I loved to distinguish airliner types the way that some guys loved to name cars. I used to be able to identify any commercial airliner at a glance. The propliners were always my favorites, though they were much noisier than the jets. Besides the planes I’ve mentioned, I flew at one time or another on the Lockheed Constellation and the Douglas DC-4, DC-6, and DC-7. During the mid-1960s, United installed lounges in the back of some of its DC-6 aircraft. I have good memories of sitting at a round table on a circular sofa.

The most comfortable propliner was the Vickers Viscount, a British plane powered by Rolls Royce turbo-props. Those engines whined rather than thundered, and the interior of the craft was much quieter than a piston airplane. The Viscount had roomy, comfortable seats and very large, oval windows. They were excellent for gazing at the ground. Several years ago, I bought a set of Viscount seats in an auction and gave them to my father. I still enjoy their comfort when I’m in his home.

The jets began to take over in the late 1950s. United flew Boeing 720s and Douglas DC-8s. United also flew the French-built Caravelle, which I saw but never flew on. Then Boeing came out with its 727. This incredible craft had a T-tail and three engines on the rear of the fuselage. I got my first chance to fly in one in about 1966, and it became my all-time favorite jet.

A key turning point came to the industry when Boeing introduced its 737. This stubby aircraft was made to service smaller airports, and it quickly became the workhorse of many short-to-medium length routes. Compared to the sleek 720 or DC-8, it looked ungainly. It was dubbed the “pregnant guppy” by some and the “mini-pig” by others. But the type has continued to evolve. Its designers have lengthened it, increased its wingspan, and given it larger engines. In its various permutations, it has become the most successful aircraft ever built.

The 737 and Douglas’s DC-9 pushed out the propliners. By the early 1970s they were no longer needed. Then the long-haul routes were taken over by the jumbo jets: the 747, the DC-10, and Lockheed’s Tristar. For the briefest of moments, the old luxury of air travel merged with the jet age. When I was in high school, our family flew to Honolulu on a 747. The airline’s luxury was on full display during that flight: gourmet meals, generous service, and genuine comfort.

What happened? The short answer is that Ronald Reagan deregulated the airline industry. Competition increased, prices came down, more people wanted to fly, and the airlines wanted to cram more passengers into the same space. Service plunged. Airliners became flying cattle cars. Then came 9-11, which resulted in long lines for security checks as well as a host of restrictions on what could be worn, carried, or checked.

The bad news for air travel is that the luxury and mystique are gone. The good news is that almost everybody can now afford to fly. The other good news is that flying is as safe as it has ever been, which is very safe indeed.

I still love to fly, and I still look out the airplane window like I did when I was a kid. I don’t miss the luxury all that much. But I hate the crowds, the standing in line, the security checks, the TSA pat-downs, and the cramped seating—all of these are good reasons to drive whenever I can. But I miss propliners the most. And they won’t ever be back.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

Not Many Years

Philip Doddridge (1702–1751)

Not many years their rounds shall roll,
Each moment brings it nigh,
Ere all its glories stand revealed,
To our admiring eye.
Ye wheels of nature speed your course,
Ye mortal pow’rs, decay;
Fast as ye bring the night of death,
Ye bring eternal day.

Ye weary, heavy laden souls,
Who are oppressed sore,
Ye trav’lers through the wilderness
To Cannan’s peaceful shore.
Through chilling winds and beating rains,
the waters deep and cold,
And enemies surrounding you,
Take courage and be bold.

Though storms and hurricanes arise,
The desert all around.
And fiery serpents oft appear
Through the enchanted ground.
Dark nights and clouds and gloomy fear—
And dragons often roar—
But while the gospel trump we hear,
We’ll press for Canaan’s shore.

Matters of Doubt

by Kevin Bauder | Aug 7, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

A friend recently forwarded a copy of A. T. Pierson’s little history of the Keswick Movement. I had read this work some years ago when I was more favorably disposed toward Keswick influences than I am now. But at my friend’s urging, I read it again. In particular, he asked that I pay attention to what Pierson (and Keswick) had to say about “matters of doubt.”

When I hear this expression, Romans 14 and 1 Corinthians 8-10 leap to my mind. In the former passage, Paul is discussing whether New Testament believers can eat and enjoy food that was prohibited by the Old Testament law. In the latter, he takes up the ethics of eating meat that has been offered to idols. In both cases, Paul refuses to give a straightforward yes-or-no answer. Instead, he lists principles to be weighed in making choices that honor God. He makes allowances for circumstances under which honest believers might see these issues differently.

But that is not what Pierson is writing about. Instead, he appears to be thinking partly of a range of Puritanical, revivalistic, or cultural taboos that some previous generations recognized as standards to which Christians must conform. Among these he singles out specific “doubtful amusements” that, while not biblically forbidden, nevertheless “bear a distinctly worldly stamp.” Here he includes theater, opera, dancing, card playing, drinking wine, and racing.

But Pierson’s concern is not limited to these cultural taboos. He widens his scope to include any practice done “primarily to please one’s self.” Such practices, he says, “put at risk” pleasing God. They are not demonstrably wrong in themselves, but they focus one’s attention on oneself. As Pierson puts it, “To consult self-gratification and self-glorification is in itself an unwholesome and an unholy habit.” He reduces these pleasures to three categories, namely, those of ambition, avarice, and appetite. His philosophy seems to be that the more appealing any activity is, the more important it becomes to avoid that activity.

Why does Pierson dub these activities as doubtful? He never actually says. As nearly as I can tell, it is because he admits that Scripture nowhere condemns these activities, but he and his friends entertain reservations about them. The activities are doubtful because they are doubtful to him. He is willing to bring his moral hesitation to bear as an instrument for judging the spiritual development of those he encounters. A person who engages in the activities that he finds doubtful must be given to self-glory, self-display, and self-indulgence.

I find all of this to be wrong-headed. Granted, we must derive moral imperatives from biblical principles as well as biblical precepts. For that reason, some of the items on Pierson’s list may well prove spiritually corrosive. Theater, for example, can insert wrong perspectives and inordinate affections into the soul at a level below conscious reflection. But any analysis of the morality of theater must go well beyond the simplistic assertion that it is “not found associated with an advanced type of piety or of fruitful service.”

I also admit the possibility that some of the items on Pierson’s list may be biblically prohibited. Odds-on, I find it more than likely that the Bible forbids the beverage use of drinks that produce intoxication when consumed in normal quantities. If that is so, then such practices must be avoided, not because of some nebulous affect upon “an advanced type of piety or of fruitful service,” but simply because they are wrong. In other words, they are not doubtful at all.

Pierson may see other items on the list as doubtful because of their associations. He does not make that argument in this little book, but I have often heard it made by people who shared his concerns. According to this reasoning, playing Pinochle or Yahtzee may not be wrong per se, but these games should be avoided because cards and dice are also used in gambling. Innocent gaming could lead to a temptation to gamble, or it might lead other people to judge that you are gambling.

But I don’t think that any of these factors is the core of Pierson’s concern. The more I have read Keswick literature, the more I see another consideration coming to the surface. There seems to be an underlying assumption that the enjoyment of anything but God Himself is wrong. Technology, art, nature, and even family must be kept at a distance unless they can be directly tied to some devotional agenda or some utility of ministry.

For example, Pierson wrote during the infancy of automobile racing. It was a time when young men would thunder their machines around dirt tracks. Watching that sport would have been a captivating experience, with the roar of engines drowning out the human voice and the racers jostling for position. In the absorption of the moment, one might forget oneself. One might even forget to think about God. One can understand why Pierson might think that absorbing amusements like racing must be avoided.

A string quartet might offer a different kind of noise, but if well-written and well-performed, it could be equally captivating. To Pierson, however, it must have seemed self-indulgent. The same could be said about reading a gripping novel. Or viewing a magnificent waterfall or mountain range.

I am not suggesting that Pierson himself never enjoyed any of these things. Indeed, he effervesces about the delightful landscape around Keswick. But he was there for the conference. Would he ever have traveled to Keswick just to see the landscape?

God has created a world of magnificence and beauty. He has put within humans the ability to produce exquisite and intricate works. Such things are God’s gifts to humanity. Somehow, the pleasures of family, technology, art, and nature must be compatible with the pleasures of God. Indeed, we cannot claim to enjoy God if we despise His good gifts.

This is the point that Pierson fails to acknowledge. Given his perspective, such activities create doubts in his mind, so they must be “doubtful.” If they are doubtful, they must be avoided—not only by him, but by all. At this point, Pierson’s philosophy and theology have strayed far from what can be found in the Bible. In my experience, many who follow Keswick have taken to heart its rejection of “doubtful matters.” That is a rejection I cannot share.

Lord, Thy Glory Fills the Heaven

Richard Mant (1776–1848)

Lord, thy glory fills the heaven;
Earth is with its fullness stored;
Unto thee be glory given,
Holy, holy, holy Lord!
Heaven is still with anthems ringing;
Earth takes up the angels' cry,
Holy, holy, holy, singing,
Lord of hosts, thou Lord most high.

Ever thus in God's high praises,
Brethren, let our tongues unite,
While our thoughts his greatness raises,
And our love his gifts excite:
With his seraph train before him,
With his holy church below,
Thus unite we to adore him,
Bid we thus our anthem flow.

Lord, thy glory fills the heaven,
Earth is with its fullness stored;
Unto thee be glory given,
Holy, holy, holy Lord!
Thus thy glorious name confessing,
We adopt the angels' cry,
Holy, holy, holy, blessing
Thee, the Lord our God most high!

The Bible Faculty Summit 2026

by Kevin Bauder | Jul 31, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

This past week, Central Seminary was privileged to host the annual Bible Faculty Summit. This meeting has been going on for about thirty years now. It grew out of a collaboration between David Doran and Bob Jones III. Both men led institutions of higher learning, and both wanted to provide ways for their professors of Bible and theology to sharpen one another.

In those days, few fundamentalist schools had sought accreditation. Fewer still encouraged participation in the learned societies such as the Evangelical Theological Society, the Evangelical Philosophical Society, the Society for Biblical Literature, or the American Academy of Religion. Exceptions did exist: Maranatha Baptist Bible College gained regional accreditation at about that time, and schools such as Faith Baptist Bible College and Central Baptist Theological Seminary had professors who participated in the societies. Detroit Baptist Theological Seminary was also publishing a peer-reviewed journal. Still, a need existed for conversation and friendly critique between schools who shared fundamentalist commitments.

The effort was an instant success. When I first heard about the Faculty Summit, I was a doctoral student and church planter in Texas. My first thought was how much I wished I could attend and to interact with the best minds in mainstream fundamentalism.

It was only a few years later that I became a professor at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. One of the blessings of that employment was that the seminary paid the way for teachers to attend the Faculty Summit every year. The first one I went to was at Detroit Baptist Theological Seminary, which was then under the presidency of Rolland McCune.

During those years, a different school would volunteer to host the Summit each year. The host school would provide housing and meals for all participants. It would also decide which sister schools to invite. Topics for papers would be approved ahead of time, and anybody was welcome to submit a suggestion.

Naturally, the Summit moved around quite a bit. Besides Detroit, I remember meeting at Bob Jones University, Clearwater Christian College, Piedmont Baptist College, Maranatha Baptist Bible College (later University), Faith Baptist Bible College, International Baptist College, and Northland Baptist Bible College (later University). I also recall meetings at Baptist Bible Seminary in Clarks Summit, Pennsylvania, and at Calvary Bible College in Kansas City. Participating institutions included most of the schools in mainstream Baptist fundamentalism, plus several interdenominational schools, Presbyterians like Geneva Reformed Seminary, and Wesleyans like God’s Bible College.

The meetings of the Summit provided an unprecedented platform for theological conversation among fundamentalists. They also provided an occasion for professors from different schools to form lasting friendships. I am grateful for the individuals who I met and for the relationships that developed mainly because of these exchanges. It was at the Faculty Summit that I first met Rolland McCune, Bob Bell, Ray Pratt, Jonathan Pratt (who is now my dean), Robert McCabe, Philip Brown, Rod Decker, William Combs, Gerald Priest, Clay Nuttall, Carl Martin, Reggie Kimbro, and many others. Knowing these men has enriched my life, and I am deeply grateful for them.

Several years ago, it appeared that the Summit meetings were flagging. The problem was the lack of any ongoing organization or structure. The continuity of the meetings depended upon institutions volunteering to plan and host the event year by year. Thanks to the energetic efforts of Jeff Straub and Mark Ward (among others), a permanent committee was created to plan the meetings year by year. Since then, most of the work has been done by Mark Ward.

Under Mark’s leadership, the Summit broadened its constituency slightly. A few pastors with research PhDs have begun to participate. Some postgraduate students from our schools have presented their current research. We have included more teachers from missionary schools in foreign countries. Simultaneously, the standards for presenting papers have tightened. These moves have been carefully thought through, and they have been effective in improving the meetings.

Now Mark has stepped down from that responsibility. This year, the group asked itself whether the ongoing meetings were still necessary. After all, most of our institutions interact with far more outside influences than they used to. Most of us are accredited. Most of our faculty members are active in learned societies, and most of them publish through a variety of venues.

The result of that discussion was that we do need to continue the Bible Faculty Summit. Even though other meetings are available to our professors, there is still great value in sharing perspectives and concerns that are unique to our little corner of the ecclesiastical world. We still value the opportunity to engage in mutual learning and critique, and we still want to grow personal and professional relationships between our institutions.

We do not know exactly the form that the Faculty Summit will take in the coming years. As with all enterprises, money is a concern. To this point, the host institution has had to bear the costs. When I was president of Central Seminary, we hosted the Bible Faculty Summit on two different occasions. That was a long time ago, but even then, the cost was over ten thousand dollars. The figure is much higher now. That is a substantial investment for schools whose financial margins are razor-thin to begin with. Furthermore, some schools can no longer provide transportation to the event for their professors.

So I’ll make a plea. If you know of someone who wants to promote responsible scholarship within the most conservative colleges, universities, and seminaries, and who has the financial capacity to provide serious help, please ask them to contact me. I would love to connect them with the planners of the Bible Faculty Summit. Their support will, in the long run, be a blessing to every church pastored by a graduate of a participating institution.

In the meanwhile, I’m glad that the Summit will be continuing. I have presented papers at different meetings, and I have regularly appreciated the critique. Every time I attend, I hear papers that introduce me to aspects of our disciplines that are entirely new to me. I enjoy renewing old friendships and networking with colleagues. I love seeing the new crop of professors joining our institutions year by year. These are all reasons to continue a good work.

O That the Lord Would Guide My Ways

Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

O that the Lord would guide my ways
To keep His statutes still!
O that my God would grant me grace
To know and do His will!

Order my footsteps by Thy word,
And make my heart sincere;
Let sin have no dominion, Lord,
But keep my conscience clear.

Assist my soul, too apt to stray,
A stricter watch to keep;
And, should I e’er forget Thy way,
Restore Thy wand’ring sheep.

Make me to walk in Thy commands;
‘Tis a delightful road:
Nor let my head, or heart, or hands,
Offend against my God.

Vocation and Vocations

by Kevin Bauder | Jul 24, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

[This essay was originally published on February 5, 2016.]

The Reformers erected the doctrine of calling in reaction to the Romanist distinction between clergy and laity. At the time, Catholics recognized only two vocations: the calling to consecration (which typically involved joining an order) and the calling to ordination (priesthood). In other words, monks and priests had a vocation; other people did not.

Over against this distinction the Reformers insisted that God calls all Christians. Their vocation is whatever station enables believers to demonstrate God’s love by serving others. In the Protestant view of vocation, ministers are called—but so are bakers, farmers, shopkeepers, and tradesmen.

The Protestant view of vocation grows out of 1 Corinthians 7:17-22. In this passage, vocation refers primarily to God’s calling of the individual to salvation. That is the first and highest calling for any Christian—to be a child of God, placing His character on display in the world, working out our salvation. Paul’s point in this passage and its surrounding context is that every lawful station of life (marriage, singleness, slavery, freedom, circumcision, uncircumcision) provides the opportunity to do just that. We are to use whatever station in which we find ourselves for God’s glory. The Reformers’ doctrine of vocation—the Protestant doctrine of vocation—is really the Pauline and biblical doctrine of vocation.

This Pauline doctrine of vocation is probably what lies behind Paul’s cryptic comment in 1 Timothy 2:15. He says that the woman will be saved in childbearing if she continues in faith, love, holiness, and self-restraint. Paul certainly does not mean to teach that giving birth somehow forgives a woman’s sins and secures eternal life. Given the context, he is most likely saying that maternity is a station that allows a woman to demonstrate how God’s saving grace is working in her life. A minister exhibits his salvation through his preaching and teaching, but Paul forbade women to teach or usurp authority over men. Are they then relegated to the position of second-class Christians? Not at all! Maternity (and domesticity) enable the stay-at-home mom to place her salvation fully on display.

This is an important truth. Pastors have the privilege of spending hours each day in the Scriptures so that they might minister the Word of God. Stay-at-home moms may struggle to find a quarter of an hour for devotions. Some might think that the pastor occupies the more spiritual position, but that is not what Paul says. A woman who rightly fulfills her station as a mother is bringing glory to God, just as the minister is.

What is true of the stay-at-home mom is true of all lawful vocations. They are ways of showing God’s love by serving others. They are ways of working out our salvation. Every vocation provides a giant screen upon which the Christian can project the manifold grace of God.

The difference is that the pastor’s vocation takes him into the study, away from the rush and tumble of life, to listen quietly to God. The mother’s vocation takes her into playrooms and grocery stores, and she does things like changing diapers, preparing meals, and wiping runny noses. To use the traditional labels, the minister’s life is contemplative while the mother’s life is active.

The point is that both of these lives are callings. Both are spiritual. Both bring glory to God if they are conscientiously pursued.

Most Christians actually occupy multiple callings. One of those callings pertains to all believers: the calling to place salvation on display. Other callings are discovered in our particular situations. A married man is called to love his wife. A father is called to bring up his children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Whatever we do to gain a living is also our calling, whether it involves balancing books, performing surgeries, or flipping burgers. Obviously some callings may change over time. A wedding marks the end of singleness (one calling) and the beginning of marriage (a different calling). A transition between jobs also usually marks a change in callings.

Some callings we choose; some are chosen for us. A slave does not typically choose slavery, though Paul says that if slaves are given a choice, they should choose freedom. Nevertheless, both slavery and freedom are callings. Sometimes our choice of callings is restricted by circumstances: there are no accountant jobs open, so we sweep floors instead. When such situations occur, we must not feel ourselves to be victims or become bitter against the calling into which God has led us. We must use it for His glory.

Other times God allows us to select from multiple options. How then should we choose? Too many Christians assume that the most financially rewarding option must be God’s calling. Sometimes it is, but often it is not. Callings should almost never be chosen on the basis of pecuniary considerations alone. Rather, we should ask, Where can I best place my salvation on display? How can I best show people God’s love by serving them? What am I equipped to do with excellence, and what will make the greatest difference for the Lord?

A man who would make a terrible pastor might make a wonderful truck driver. A woman who could never adapt to the mission field might make a good lawyer. Some young people who would be miserable in college might be more useful—and more happy—as plumbers or electricians. God not only calls people to different vocations, He also equips them differently for those vocations.

Every vocation deserves respect and even esteem. Christians who are farmers, bankers, doctors, airline pilots, police officers, short order cooks, managers, cashiers, actuaries, and stay-at-home moms have vocations that are just as significant to God as the vocation of the minister. Let us honor all, and make the most of the callings that God has given us.

Behold Us, Lord, a Little Space

John Ellerton (1826–1893)

Behold us, Lord, a little space
From daily tasks set free,
And met within Thy holy place
To rest awhile with Thee.

Around us rolls the ceaseless tide
Of business, toil, and care,
And scarcely can we turn aside
For one brief hour of prayer.

Yet these are not the only walls
Wherein Thou mayst be sought;
On homeliest work Thy blessing falls
In truth and patience wrought.

Thine is the loom, the forge, the mart,
The wealth of land and sea;
The worlds of science and of art,
Revealed and ruled by Thee.

Then let us prove our heavenly birth
In all we do and know;
And claim the kingdom of the earth
For Thee, and not Thy foe.

Work shall be prayer, if all be wrought
As Thou wouldst have it done;
And prayer, by Thee inspired and taught,
Itself with work be one.

Terms You Might Hear

by Kevin Bauder | Jul 17, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

Certain terms that get thrown around in theological conversation sometimes perplex novices. In fact, they sometimes perplex more advanced students, too. One reason is that these terms can be used in multiple senses. A word may have a more general meaning but also a more technical one. And sometimes terms get misused. Consequently, I am offering a quick tutorial summarizing definitions and usages.

Christian. Of course, the content of this word is fiercely debated. In a cultural sense, it is often used for anyone who professes the name of Christ. In its proper sense, it can be used only of persons who have trusted Jesus as Savior and who are trying to follow Him. The critical part of the definition is the gospel. A true Christian is someone who has truly believed or trusted the gospel (which is the same thing as trusting Christ) for salvation from sin. Since we cannot observe people’s hearts to know who has true trust and who is making a false profession, we understand a visible Christian to be a person who professes faith in the true gospel. Importantly, whether we speak of trusting the gospel or of trusting Christ, a large element of doctrinal content is involved.

Fundamentals. The doctrines or teachings that are essential to the gospel are called essentials or fundamentals. For example, we cannot talk about trusting Jesus without knowing who Jesus is—and that is a doctrinal question. Neither the Jesus of Mormonism nor the Jesus of the Jehovah’s Witnesses is the Jesus of the Bible, and neither is able to save. Several doctrinal points are involved in explaining Jesus’ identity, including His deity, His humanity, and His virgin birth. Each of these doctrines is fundamental to the gospel, as are multiple others.

Christendom. At some times and in some places, nominally Christian categories became so widely accepted that they influenced whole cultures and even governments. This phenomenon occurred especially in Europe and North America. Of course, not everybody who lived in these countries and cultures was genuinely Christian. Probably most people weren’t. But those places where more-or-less Christian thought has shaped the culture and civic life are collectively known as Christendom.

Orthodox. This term has been appropriated by a collection of ecclesiastical bodies in eastern Europe, western Asia, and north Africa. These churches may also be called Eastern Orthodox, or they may have a national name attached, such as Greek or Russian Orthodox. But the word orthodox properly refers to all Christians who affirm the chief symbols or creeds: the Apostles Creed, the Nicene Creed, the Athanasian Creed, and the Formula of Chalcedon. In short, to be orthodox is to be historically and biblically Trinitarian and to affirm the one-person-two-natures understanding of Christ. In this sense, orthodoxy is a broad category that includes Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodoxy, Protestants, and even (especially!) Baptists.

Heterodox. If orthodoxy is right doctrine, then heterodoxy is erroneous doctrine. The word is applied especially to those who deny the teaching of the chief symbols or creeds. The mark of heterodoxy is a denial or false view of the Trinity or of the person and natures of Christ.

Infidel. An infidel is a person who denies the gospel while claiming not to be a Christians. The word covers approximately the same territory as pagan or heathen. Christians consider followers of Zeus, Odin, Brahmin, Mohammed, and the Buddha (among others) to be infidels. Atheists and agnostics are also infidels. Nevertheless, Christians don’t use the word much these days because it is sometimes considered derogatory. Also, Muslims seem to have co-opted the word infidel to refer to non-Islamic people.

Apostate. Like an infidel, and apostate denies the gospel. Specifically, an apostate denies at least one of the fundamental doctrines that are essential to the gospel. Unlike an infidel, an apostate still claims to be a Christian. Apostates name the name of Christ and seek recognition as Christians. Even though they claim to be Christians, however, apostates have left the faith because what they deny is essential to it. Most older, mainline denominations have become apostate.

Heretic. In the New Testament, a heretic is a professing Christian who creates divisions among believers. The term is only occasionally used in that sense today. More commonly, heretic is used as a synonym for apostate: a professing believer who denies some fundamental of the gospel. Sometimes the word is used for a person who holds any level of doctrinal error. This use of the word creates confusion. If you use the word heretic, you should probably specify what you mean by it. Not every doctrinal mistake is a fundamental error.

False Religion. A false religion is any organized presentation of or approach to God that denies one or more of the fundamental doctrines, whether it professes to be Christian or not. From a biblical point of view, Hinduism is an example of a false religion. So is Mormonism and so is Roman Catholicism (which denies justification through faith alone). Adherents to false religions cannot rightly be called Christians in the proper sense.

Denomination. A denomination is a church or group of churches that agree upon the gospel, but that disagree on lesser points of doctrine and order. The word implies that the members of these groups recognize one another as the Body of Christ, “variously denominated.” In other words, historic Baptists, Presbyterians, and Methodists, for example, recognize each other as genuine Christians, but they still organize separately to preserve what each believes is some truly biblical distinctive. The Roman Catholic Church should never be called a denomination. From its own perspective, it claims to be the one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church. From a gospel perspective, it cannot be recognized as a true church at all.

Cult. This word is used in two or three senses. In the most proper sense, a cult claims to be Christian while denying orthodox Trinitarianism or Christology (examples include Mormonism, Jehovah’s Witnesses, Oneness Pentecostalism, and Seventh-Day Adventism). Sometimes the word is used to designate any recent or non-traditional religious system, such as Spiritism, Theosophy, Rosicrucianism, Baha’ism, or Scientology. The word can also be used to designate religious organizations or systems that insist upon personal adherence to a leader who delivers some unprecedented insight or revelation. Even otherwise orthodox Christian groups can take on a cultish flavor when they overemphasize personal or institutional loyalty and close themselves off from outside contact.

In the foregoing, I’ve tried to describe correct uses of several terms. I’ve also suggested several common alternative uses. My goal is not to become a definition cop or to blow the whistle on mistaken usages. Rather, I hope to promote clarity in discussion by re-rooting these terms in their proper meanings.

Now, Saith the Spirit of the Lord

Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

“Now,” saith the Spirit of the Lord,
To those who sit on earthly thrones,
“Rejoice with trembling at His word,
And at His feet submit your crowns.

With faith and love address the Son,
Lest He grow angry, and ye die;
His wrath will burn to worlds unknown,
If ye provoke his jealousy.

His frown shall drive you quick to hell,
For He is God, and ye but dust.
Happy the souls that know Him well,
And make His grace their only trust!”

Moving After Three Decades

by Kevin Bauder | Jul 10, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

My family moved into our present home in 1998. It was a HUD home. We bought it pretty cheaply, even by the standards of the late 90s, but we knew that making it livable was going to take lots of work. We received help with some of the most urgent tasks from the “Rent-a-Bums,” a group of retired craftsmen and handymen who were known for their good deeds as members of Fourth Baptist Church. Some of those men are among my heroes: Dewey Russell, Dick and Dave Nyquist, Merle Harmon, Har Anderson. They ran electrical circuits, connected gas appliances, repaired drywall, and performed dozens of miscellaneous tasks. Har’s wife, Char, did much of our original painting.

The home is a story and a half with a basement. For our first year, we hardly set foot in the basement except to store a few boxes. It had moldering old carpet and decaying built-in furniture, all of which had to be removed. It had been divided into four rooms. We eventually had to take it all down to the studs. One of the rooms became a utility area, one became my shop, one eventually served as my Zoom studio, and one became a sewing and ironing room.

The place needed new carpet immediately. Over the years we’ve had to replace or redo almost everything else. First, we had to side the garage. Then we had to replace the roof. I built a shed in the back yard—the city allowed a 10×12 footprint, but I cantilevered the construction so the usable area was a bit larger. We poured a concrete patio. The HVAC had to be replaced about fifteen years after we moved in. We took the bathroom down to the studs and replaced everything—that’s when I learned how heavy cast iron bathtubs are. A craftsman installed a native black ash hardwood floor in the kitchen, then matched it with custom cabinets of the same wood. When the city resurfaced the streets, we replaced the driveway. Our last big project was to install new windows and siding.

The house was always a project in the process of improvement. I’d work on it whenever I could find the time (which has been less and less as the years have gone by). We made plans that we’ve never been able to implement, for example, putting a three-quarters bath in the basement.

While we’ve lived in this home, our children graduated from high school and university and received their terminal degrees. They haven’t lived with us for ten or fifteen years, though some of their stuff stayed here when they moved on. With our children gone, some parts of the house haven’t seen much use for a while.

Meanwhile, two other things have happened. One is that Central Seminary has shifted its educational focus to distance education. We are now teaching in virtual classrooms, using the Zoom platform. There are other reasons for professors to be on campus, but we can teach from anywhere that has a decent Internet connection (and we have). The result is that living close to the seminary is no longer an urgent concern.

Then too, I’ve taken a pastorate in a town about an hour north of the seminary. Shortly after accepting that responsibility, Mrs. Bauder and I purchased a small home nearby as a base for ministry. We have been dividing our time between two homes.

My thinking was that I would be able to have more of a presence locally if I owned a home near the church. What I’ve discovered is that maintaining two homes is a huge drain of energy, time, and money. Consequently, we have decided to make the northern home our only home. Debbie has retired, so she no longer needs to commute to Central Seminary. I’ll continue to drive in, but not every day. We are selling our old home after nearly thirty years of occupancy.

In our younger days we made many moves, but we never lived in one place longer than about six years. And most of our moves coincided with some break in life. We moved to Colorado to attend seminary. We moved to Iowa to pastor. We moved to Texas for doctoral studies. We moved to Minnesota to teach at Central Seminary. In every case, we were ending one thing and starting another.

This move is different. We are trying to do our sorting, packing, and moving while life is going on as usual. I’m still teaching at the seminary, and I’m still pastoring the church. Life isn’t slowing down for us, so we’re trying to move in increments.

When my car recently needed to be replaced, I deliberately bought a pickup truck. For the past month, I’ve been making five or six trips every week to haul stuff from our old home to our new one. We’re also making multiple trips to donation centers and disposal sites.

We’re moving out of three stories (including the basement) and into one. We’ll have no garage, only a carport with no storage space. We need to downsize. And sometimes the choices are painful.

I’ve heard people say it before, and now I find that it’s true. Over thirty years, stuff piles up. More stuff than you think. Stuff that needs to be handled and sorted, sometimes trashed, sometimes given away, sometimes sold, and often moved. But it all takes time.

What this means is that right now I have too many plates spinning. I’m trying not to let anything slip through the cracks, but sometimes they do. I usually work best when I can focus on one thing at a time. Now my attention is scattered among dozens of tasks.

The good news is that it will all be finished this month. We’ll be materially moved by the end of July (or so we plan!). We still have to stop all the services at the old place, open a new bank account, change the address on all our electronic accounts, and update our driver’s licenses and car registration.

I’m looking forward to getting all the work done. When it is, I hope to get some work done. If you know what I mean.

Happy the Home When God Is There

Henry Ware (1794–1843)

Happy the home when God is there,
and love fills ev’ry breast:
when one their wish, and one their prayer,
and one their heav’nly rest.

Happy the home where Jesus’ name
is sweet to ev’ry ear;
where children early lisp his fame,
and parents hold him dear.

Happy the home where prayer is heard,
and praise is wont to rise,
where parents love the sacred Word,
that makes us truly wise.

Lord, let us in our homes agree,
this blessed peace to gain;
unite our hearts in love to thee,
and love to all will reign.

Favorite Places: North American Edition

by Kevin Bauder | Jul 3, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

I’ve already written about my favorite places to visit in Europe, Asia, and South America. The list is limited because I’ve never been to most places. I’ve visited none at all as a tourist. Anywhere I’ve traveled, I’ve gone because some responsibility took me there. I could wish to visit many other world-class cities. I could wish to visit many historical sites. I could wish to visit many natural and cultural wonders. But in the dispositions of God, my days of international travel seem to be at an end, and one cannot have a favorite place that one has never seen. Except, of course, the New Jerusalem.

But what about my favorite places in North America? These will not be cities, with one exception. Most American cities hold little appeal for me. I’ve lived in several metro areas: Des Moines, Denver, Dallas–Fort Worth, Minneapolis–Saint Paul. I’ve visited most of the others, from Halifax to San Diego, from Miami to Seattle, with Honolulu and Anchorage thrown in. Each has features worth seeing (or hearing, in the case of great orchestras). None of them draws me.

The exception is Toronto. The big negative about Toronto is its traffic, but once you’re in the city, public transportation is good. Toronto is surprisingly safe for its size. It offers interesting architecture, including its bay-and-gable homes, the collegiate gothic of the University of Toronto, and the remarkable late modernism of the CN Tower. It also offers natural beauty along its lakefront. One of the best features of Toronto is its cultural diversity, glimpsed as you pass through neighborhoods of Chinese, Italians, Greeks, Indians, Koreans, Poles, and other ethnicities. It’s fascinating to see the street signs switch from one language to another throughout the city. And the culinary opportunities are phenomenal.

Toronto, however, is the exception when it comes to cities. Smaller towns offer varying degrees of charm, but they do not rise to the level of favorite places. Perhaps I should also add that I do not enjoy reenactments, whether military or historical. They always strike me as artificial and contrived. I can’t suspend disbelief. I’ve been to Colonial Williamsburg, among others, and I couldn’t care less. What is true of historical reenactment is even more true of biblical reenactment. I have less than no desire to look at, say, a reconstruction of Noah’s ark or a rebuilt tower of Babel. Truthfully, I can’t even understand why people seem so enthused about these things.

What I most enjoy about North America is its abundance of natural wonder. I particularly love the American West and Southwest. When I was a younger man, I would backpack into the Flat Tops Wilderness near Burns, Colorado to hunt mule deer and elk every November. At my age and in my physical condition, I’ll probably never make that trip again. But that valley along Turret Creek remains one of my favorite places on earth.

During the years that I lived in Colorado, I learned to love the high plains as much as the mountains. On the plains, buffalo grass, prickly pear, and yucca played host to jackrabbits, rattlesnakes, coyotes, and pronghorn. In those days, almost nobody traveled into the Pawnee National Grasslands, but I used to roam them. My favorite place was Pawnee Buttes, where the grassland drops away in a series of chalky escarpments, and a pair of steep prominences rises 300 feet from the valley floor. It used to be a breathtaking sight. Sadly, the north rim is now occupied by windmills, and the government has built walkways where nobody ever used to walk. I never, ever saw another person at Pawnee Buttes, but the wildness of the place has now been destroyed. Incidentally, the biggest deer I ever saw were in the little ravines in those escarpments.

The national parks of the West and Southwest are great places. I haven’t been to all of them, but the ones I’ve visited are amazing. Everybody talks about Yellowstone, Arches, and Grand Canyon. They are all wonderful, but they are all crowded. Canyonlands is less crowded and just as amazing. The Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest feature scenery that can’t be duplicated—although some of the Badlands in South Dakota is reminiscent of some of the Painted Desert.

One state park deserves special mention. It is Palo Duro Canyon, located near Amarillo, Texas. Palo Duro, an old Comanche stronghold, is the second largest canyon system in the United States. Its scenery is as spectacular as anything in a national park. The rock formation known as the Spanish Skirts is well worth seeing.

For rock formations, nothing with easy access can top the Garden of the Gods near Colorado Springs. Located just off Interstate 25, the park contains leaping spires and balanced formations of red stone. The color of the rocks really pops against a blue sky, and the sky is almost always blue. It can all be viewed by car.

Just as amazing is the Chiricahua National Monument in southern New Mexico, but it is much harder to reach—especially if you go by way of Fort Bowie. The monument is a little oasis in the desert. The rock formations aren’t red, but they are remarkable. Chiricahua is one of the few places in the United States where you can find coati (hog-nosed raccoons).

Some years ago, a friend introduced me to the pleasures of exploring abandoned cliff dwellings. There are a surprising number of these with public access. Among others, I’ve visited the Casa Grande (which is now located in the Arizona city of that name), Montezuma Castle (not far from Interstate 17), the Tonto National Monument, Betatakin Navajo National Monument, and Walnut Canyon (near Flagstaff). These sites are memorable for their great natural beauty as well as for the mysterious civilizations that occupied them.

This discussion wouldn’t be complete without mentioning two other places. One is Monument Valley, which looks even grander in person than it does in the movies. The other is Canyon de Chelle in New Mexico. It isn’t as big as the Grand Canyon or even Palo Duro Canyon, but in my judgment the scenery is even more eye-popping. Like Monument Valley, it has been used as a set for movies, and with good reason.

There are other places I’d love to mention. Peggy’s Cove in Nova Scotia. Denali National Park around Mount McKinley. Devil’s Tower in northeastern Wyoming. The waterfalls along the Black River in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Copper Falls State Park in Wisconsin. The Apostle Islands National Lakeshore. Voyageurs National Park. But I have to stop at some point.

Odd, isn’t it? On other continents, my favorite places are cities. In North America, my favorite places are away from cities. Some of the American sites are bound to be close to your home. We Americans really do live in a country that has a surplus of amazing natural beauty. And I love seeing it.

Lord of Beauty, Thine the Splendor

Cyril Argentine Alington (1872–1955)

Lord of beauty, thine the splendour
shewn in earth and sky and sea,
burning sun and moonlight tender,
hill and river, flower and tree:
lest we fail our praise to render
touch our eyes that they may see.

Lord of wisdom, whom obeying
mighty waters ebb and flow,
while unhasting, undelaying,
planets on their courses go:
in thy laws thyself displaying,
teach our minds thyself to know.

Lord of life, alone sustaining
all below and all above,
Lord of love, by whose ordaining
sun and stars sublimely move:
in our earthly spirits reigning,
lift our hearts that we may love.

Lord of beauty, bid us own thee,
Lord of truth, our footsteps guide,
till as Love our hearts enthrone thee,
and, with vision purified,
Lord of all, when all have known thee,
thou in all art glorified.

Full of Love and Good Works

by Micah Tanis | Jul 2, 2026 | Faculty Life | 10 Comments

Honoring Debbie Bauder’s 28 Faithful Years at Central

For 28 years, Debbie Bauder has been the first face to greet those who walked through the doors of Central Seminary. Students, faculty, guests, and prospective families all received the same warm welcome, and this summer we had the joy of celebrating her as she steps into retirement.

Fifty friends, family members, and coworkers gathered for a special lunch celebrating more than 75 combined years of faithful service to God through the ministries of Central Seminary, WCTS Radio, and Fourth Baptist Church. Alongside Debbie, we honored Dr. Bob Fuller Jr., who is retiring after seven years with WCTS Radio, following decades in pastoral ministry and service as the Minnesota Baptist Association State Missionary. This was his second stint with the station, having first served in the 1970s. We also honored Amie Steinhart, who is retiring after 19 years as secretary of Fourth Baptist Church. The celebration also marked a milestone for Ron Gotzman, who, after 31 years as Vice President of Advancement, is stepping into a new role as Legacy Advisor.

Seminary President Matt Morrell shared the impact each has made, and attendees enjoyed cards and a special photo display assembled by our new Administrative Director, Tandi Swift, who has been training alongside Debbie to carry forward the office and event coordination responsibilities.

Provost Brett Williams pointed to Acts 9, where Luke describes Tabitha as “full of love and acts of good works.” That, he said, is Debbie. He recalled his first week as a new seminary student decades ago, when a fellow student told him he would need to talk to Debbie Bauder. When he asked who she was, the answer came back: “She’s the nicest human you’ll ever meet.” Twenty-eight years of refilled staplers, carefully edited communications, meals delivered to families in need, and quiet acts of service have proven that answer true again and again.

“She’s the nicest human you’ll ever meet.”

The good news? This is a retirement, not a farewell. Debbie plans to continue helping with conferences and special events, and the Bauder family remains a vital part of Central, where Dr. Kevin Bauder continues to teach and direct our Doctor of Ministry program.

Thank you, Debbie, for 28 years of love, faithfulness, and good works. Well done.

Favorite Places

by Kevin Bauder | Jun 26, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

Five months ago, I began a series of essays on my favorite things. I won’t be surprised if you’ve forgotten. But I’ll reproduce the opening paragraph, which took the form of an announcement.

Let me give fair notice. I intend to begin a series, written only now and then, naming my favorite things. Some of these things are directly religious in nature: my favorite theologians, for example. With others, the connection may not be as obvious (my favorite mystery writers or my favorite calibers). But it is always a mistake—a bad one, too!—to segregate “spiritual” from merely “secular” loves. We live life as a whole, and all of life should be lived as devotion to God. This is just as true of favorite calibers and pasta dishes as it is of favorite commentaries or Bible versions.

This announcement was followed by a two-week listing of my favorite authors. Then the series went dormant (as promised) when I began to study the Christology of John 1. But now the time has come for another installment. This time I want to write about my favorite places.

But before I do, I need to clear up some confusion. I’m writing about favorite places to visit, not necessarily favorite places to be. My favorite place to be is wherever Debbie happens to be located at that moment. I would rather be with her than anywhere else in the world. I also prefer to be at home, by which I mean that domicile that Debbie and I inhabit.

Furthermore, by visit I mean more than, say, a shopping trip. I like to visit bookstores (especially used bookstores). I like to visit gun shops and shows. I like to visit restaurants and to attend concerts and recitals. But those don’t count toward this list. What I mean is more like favorite places to go sightseeing or to spend time.

My main criteria for a place I love to visit are threefold. The first is outstanding architecture. The second is significant history, whether ecclesiastical, political, or cultural. The third is natural beauty. I almost never find all three together, so I’ve chosen most of my favorite places based on one or two criteria. Some lesser criteria also enter the picture, as you’ll figure out.

For the combination of all three main criteria, I can think of no better place than Paris and its environs. One city offers the Sorbonne, the Basilica of Saint-Denis, the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Orsay Museum, and the Palace of Versailles, as well as secondary spectacles like the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower. Paris is within a morning’s drive of other locations such as the Fontainebleau Palace, Chateau Chambord, or the Cathedral of Chartres. Paris is an expensive town, but for humanly-constructed beauty, it cannot be surpassed.

Much less expensive and only slightly less spectacular is Budapest. The Danube provides natural beauty. The Fisherman’s Bastion, the Citadella, the Parliament building, and Buda Castle are all architectural marvels. Saint Stephen’s Basilica is a study in neo-classical excellence, while Matthias Church is a little gem of late Gothic architecture. Budapest also offers secondary beauties like Vajdahunyad Castle and Hero Square with its two art museums. All these sites can be accessed via Budapest’s excellent subway system. A bonus is the authentic gulyás served in the local restaurants.

I’ve visited other European cities that deserve mention. These include Vienna with its marvelous Schönbrunn Palace, including its gardens, fountains, and memorials, and Salzburg with its high castle, its “Sound of Music” cathedral, and Mozart’s birthplace. I very much enjoyed visiting Zwingli’s Grossminsterkirche in Zurich but accidentally wandered through the Red Light district trying to find it. For sheer charm, nothing can compare with Rothenburg ob der Tauber, a nearly intact medieval village outside Nuremberg.

On the opposite side of the world, I have greatly enjoyed three places in Brazil. The first is Rio de Janeiro, of course. The city is most famous for its beaches, but it also features some striking architecture such as the municipal theater and the palace at the Ilha Fiscal. The Royal Portuguese Reading Room is one of the most impressive libraries in the world. The “Christ the Redeemer” statue and the Sugar Loaf Mountain are both impressive in their own right, and both provide wonderful viewing points for all Rio.

A second Brazilian favorite is the Foz du Iguaçu at the southern tip of the country. In this place, natural beauty predominates. It features one of the world’s most amazing waterfalls, supplemented by colorful birds and butterflies. The waterfall is located on the border of Brazil and Argentina, and it is worth viewing from both sides. Nearby, a foot bridge spans the river and crosses into Paraguay.

While it might not be everyone’s favorite, I also loved the city of Manaus. Located where the Rio Negro and the Solimões join to form the Amazon, Manaus is surrounded by the world’s largest rain forest. The city offers some outstanding architecture, especially the opera house. A visit would not be complete without a river trip to view the “marriage of the waters.” The charming Iricema Falls is only a couple of hours to the north and is worth a side visit. As in any Brazilian city, a stop at a good churrascaria is mandatory.

One other city that I liked very much is Singapore, which is also its own island republic. The mix of cultures in Singapore is truly astonishing. There is obvious Western influence, but the city has a robust China Town and a Little India that feels authentic. Public transportation is cheap and reliable, and the city is far safer than most American cities of similar size. It enjoys a tropical climate, and it is filled with beauty, color, and activity.

By now you’ve noticed that I haven’t mentioned anything in North America. Most of my favorite places in North America are not cities, but some are. And the ones that aren’t are truly amazing. I’ll talk about my favorite North American places in the next In the Nick of Time.

Thy Glory, Lord, the Heavens Declare

James Montgomery (1771–1854)

Thy glory, Lord, the heavens declare,
The firmament displays Thy skill;
The changing clouds, the viewless air,
Tempest and calm Thy word fulfill;
Day unto day doth utter speech,
And night to night Thy knowledge teach.

Though voice nor sound inform the ear,
Well known the language of their song,
When one by one the stars appear,
Led by the silent moon along,
Till round the earth, from all the sky,
Thy beauty beams on every eye.

Waked by Thy touch, the morning sun
Comes like a bridegroom from his bower,
And, like a giant, glad to run
His bright career with speed and power—
Thy flaming messenger, to dart
Life through the depth of Nature’s heart.

While these transporting visions shine
Along the path of Providence,
Glory eternal, joy divine,
Thy word reveals, transcending sense—
My soul Thy goodness longs to see,
Thy love to man, Thy love to me.

Preaching Politics

by Kevin Bauder | Jun 19, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

Some people think that politics should be left out of the pulpit. One small, Midwestern denomination articulates as one of its “fundamental principles” that partisan political preaching is “discountenanced.” The sentiment is echoed in many Christian groups, even if they do not state it formally.

This aversion to political preaching grows from two sources. First, theologically, some Christians emphasize the spirituality of the church. According to this teaching, the church has an essentially moral and spiritual mission, not a political one. Second, practically, some Christians fear that an emphasis on politics will divide congregations unnecessarily. They seem to think that adherents to any political party ought to feel equally comfortable in every church.

I agree with the doctrine of the church’s spirituality. This doctrine, however, is limited in important ways. The first limitation is that a part of the church’s spiritual mission is to prepare individual believers to function in a fully Christian way in their various callings. What does that mean?

A calling is a position in which God places an individual. A Christian may be a husband or a wife, a father or a mother, a butcher or a builder, or any of a host of other callings. But a Christian is never just those things. Every Christian’s most fundamental calling is to be an ambassador of Christ. Christians must use their various callings as ways of advancing their one, chief calling.

One of our callings is to be citizens of the countries where we live. Different nations and civilizations expect different levels of participation from their citizens or subjects, so the Bible articulates few hard-and-fast rules about citizenship. We must apply biblical principles to understand how to fulfill our calling as ambassadors of Christ within the individual social context of the governments under which we live.

The United States is a representative democracy or a republic. In the United States, our calling as citizens includes a voice in the selection of leadership. This voice is normally expressed through campaigning and voting, though sometimes a deliberate non-vote can become a form of participation. Part of the mission of the church is to instruct its saints so that they rightly fulfill their ultimate calling within their national calling. Therefore, while the church might not tell people which candidates to vote for, it has a duty to prepare them to vote in a Christian way. Part of that preparation will include preaching.

The second limitation on the spirituality of the church is that we cannot draw a sharp line between moral or spiritual issues and political issues. There is no watertight barrier between these categories. As a matter of fact, we often discover that political issues are moral and spiritual at their root. We also find that moral and spiritual issues regularly manage to find their way into politics.

Not every political issue is moral or spiritual. Probably most are not. The Bible does not provide obvious answers to certain questions. To cite an example that is now obsolete, the Bible does not provide guidance on the question of whether a government should back its currency with the gold standard or whether it should also back its currency with silver. At the same time, the Bible does teach that governments can rightly issue currency. Questions that have no clear biblical or theological answer should not be taken as moral or spiritual questions. Where the Bible provides no genuine guidance, pastors should remain silent in the pulpit.

We can summarize the principle briefly: when a political question is also a moral and spiritual question, then pastors have a duty to address it. We can put the same principle in different words: when a spiritual and moral question becomes a political question, pastors must address it. It would be ludicrous to suggest that pastors cannot preach biblical morality simply because it becomes controversial in the political sphere. In fact, the time they ought to preach biblical morality most clearly is when it is in danger of becoming politicized.

By fulfilling this obligation, pastors often perform a function similar to that of referees. For example, they ought to blow the whistle when some candidate tries to treat a merely political issue as if it were a moral or spiritual issue. This is precisely what is happening under the labels of social justice, equity, diversity, and inclusion. There is a false and anti-biblical philosophy at work in those ideas, and it is one against which shepherds must warn their sheep.

Other times, candidates try to ignore or even contradict moral issues that do not match their political commitments. Here again pastors should blow the whistle. We should be willing to name political policies that contradict biblical morality, and we should encourage our people to back candidates who will reject those policies.

Some candidates will try to seize the high ground on some issues by distorting right moral and spiritual teaching. Pastors have a duty to step in and help their congregations disentangle distorted moral claims. We should expose unspoken assumptions, false dichotomies, and dishonest reasoning wherever these skew moral understanding.

Not uncommonly, a candidate will try to dismiss concerns by claiming that a particular issue is not a moral one, even though it is. This is another occasion when the pastor’s voice should be heard. In fact, we should do more than point out which issues are genuinely moral. We should be training our people in moral thinking so that they can detect bogus claims for themselves.

Sometimes moral evaluation must go beyond policies and issues to personal behaviors. Pastors have a duty to call out candidates whose individual conduct subverts common morality. This task must be performed toward all candidates of all parties and positions. No pastor should be in the position of denouncing iniquity in the opposition while ignoring it among his allies.

A pastor who fulfills these tasks faithfully is going to sound very much like a conservative. There are reasons for that. One is that conservatives believe in a transcendent moral order that we are accountable to know. Another is that people who read the Bible in an originalist way also tend to read their nation’s constitution in an originalist way. Consequently, any pastor who faithfully applies true moral and spiritual principles to political questions is much more likely to offend members of the progressive or liberal party than he is the conservative one.

But that is no reason to shrink from the task. We are in the business of making disciples. Christ’s disciples are also His ambassadors in the world. They function within their earthly regimes to represent the interests and claims of His kingdom. Let us not shrink from political preaching when morality demands it.

Since God Has Thus Ordain’d It So

Church Hymn Book, German Evangelical Lutheran Synod of Tennessee, 1816

Since God has thus ordain’d it so,
That civil magistrates should be
To rule and govern men below,
As in his sacred word we see:

Since such like office I do bear
To execute those civil laws,
May I be wise, just and sincere
To judge aright in ev’ry cause.

The Lord, grant me an upright heart,
And with his blessed Spirit guide:
To act the just impartial part,
In all whate’er I must decide.

From none but thee my God indeed,
Such precious gifts I can obtain,
Nor gain the knowledge that I need
To judge between my fellow-men.

For this I pray and humbly ask
My God endow me with thy grace!
And qualify me for the task,
To do my office in my place.

Misery: A Response to Old-Earth Progressive Creationism

by Kevin Bauder | Jun 12, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

[This Nick of Time essay was originally published on January 23, 2015.]

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth . . .
[and] there was not a man to till the face of the ground.

The doe paused on the edge of the glade, frozen between hunger and caution. Her normal sense of self-preservation was amplified by her awareness (dim but real) of another life growing in her womb. She would save her own life if she could, but she would preserve the fawn inside her at any cost.

The hunger was making that increasingly difficult. Most that was green was now covered by the deep snowpack. Branches of trees had been browsed as high as a deer could reach. The frozen bark that she gnawed from the trunks put little nourishment in her belly. Stored tallow had once made her form sleek, but it had long since been absorbed into her starvation-wracked frame. Her skin hung in folds from her flanks. If she could survive for another month she would have food enough—but could she?

The glade was open enough for grass but sheltered by tall trees. Her instincts told her that she might be able to paw through the ice and snow to reach a few blades of withered grass. These would not fill her stomach, but they might prolong her wretched existence for a few more hours.

She was afraid. At the beginning of the winter she had easily outrun the wolves on a couple of occasions. But she was weaker. The snow was deeper. Her pregnancy was weighing her down. She might be able to dodge a single wolf, but she doubted that she could escape the pack now.

So she stood at the edge of the glade, staring into the semi-light and testing the air with her nose. She could not afford a mistake, but she also could not afford to neglect any possible source of food. Finally hunger won, and with wary steps she began to make her way into the glade.

Pawing the snow, she lowered her muzzle to search for the frozen vegetation that she hoped would be there. As she did, the corner of her eye caught a flash of movement. Her head snapped toward the motion as she stared through the twilight. Nothing.

As she began to lower her head again, she glimpsed movement in another direction. This time her head did not go down, but she continued to gaze in the new direction. She was now convinced that something was wrong, and she began to taste the panic in the back of her mouth.

There! Just the slightest twitch, but enough to betray the presence of a pointed ear, which led to a snout framed by grey whiskers. Just beyond the edge of the clearing a wolf was stalking her. In the instant she recognized the predator, it sprang.

The doe twisted to bolt in the opposite direction, trying to reach the opposite edge of the glade in a single bound. But her weakness and pregnancy betrayed her, and the snow clung to her legs like mud. More than that, she was met in mid-bound by the rest of the pack as they leaped toward their prey.

One great wolf tried to close its jaws around her throat. Her momentum carried her past him, but his teeth tore at her flesh and sinew. Other wolves closed in on her flanks, trying to bite through her tendons and cripple her. Still others went directly for her belly, and now more were closing in on her throat.

She was carried to the ground by the sheer weight of the pack. She could feel their teeth tearing into her body, especially her tendons. Within moments they had lamed her and she lay helpless in the snow. They did not need to kill her. They had her at their mercy, and they would not pause before beginning their feast.

Pain shot through her spine and flanks as the wolves tore into her flesh. But she had come down on her belly, and she tried to shelter the little mass that huddled under her. She would save the fawn at any cost.

The wolves, however, knew what they were doing. She bleated, very much like a lamb, as they pulled her backward and exposed her underside. Then the pitiless carnivores tore into the skin of her abdomen, ripping and shredding until the form of the little fawn was exposed. This was what they really wanted. Tearing the fetus from its mother’s womb, they feasted on its steaming carcass.

The wolves left her alive. She would survive a few hours longer, and they would return to consume the fresh meat from her bones. As she suffered through those hours, carrion birds arrived to pluck at her eyes and her steaming entrails. The only mercy in her death was that the pain and blind exhaustion finally overcame her and she lapsed into unconsciousness. She never awoke, not even when the wolves returned to finish their meal in the red snow.

And God saw every thing that He had made, and behold, it was very good.

Heaven and Earth, and Sea and Air

Joachim Neander (1650–1680); tr. Catherine Winkwoth (1650–1680)

Heaven and earth, and sea and air,
All their Maker’s praise declare:
Wake, my soul, awake and sing,
Now thy grateful praises bring.

See the glorious orb of day
Breaking through the clouds his way.
Moon and stars with silvery light
Praise Him through the silent night.

See how He hath everywhere
Made this earth so rich and fair;
Hill and vale and fruitful land,
All things living, show His hand.

See how through the boundless sky
Fresh and free the birds do fly;
Fire and wind and storm are still
Servants of His royal Will.

See the water’s ceaseless flow,
Ever circling to and fro:
From the sources to the sea,
Still it rolls in praise to Thee.

Lord, great wonders workest Thou!
To Thy sway all creatures bow:
Write Thou deeply in my heart
What I am, and what Thou art!

65 and Counting

by Jon Pratt | Jun 5, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

Please travel back in time with me many, many ages ago to the First Baptist Church of Granite Falls, MN. The day is June 3, 1961. Along with family members and friends and in the presence of God, Ray Pratt and Marie Pates exchanged wedding vows, promising lifelong fidelity to each other. By God’s grace, this week marks sixty-five years they have kept those vows.

Good marriages do not just happen. Good marriages last because of God’s kind providence and because of His children’s persevering obedience. So how did Ray and Marie’s marriage move from hopeful anticipation in 1961 to happy fulfillment 65 years later? In order to answer this question, I would like to offer a short history of the Pratt’s lives in ministry and then provide some observations about their marriage in the ministry context where God placed them.

After a honeymoon on the north shore of Lake Superior, the newlyweds settled in New Brighton, MN, and they joined the newly planted Woodcrest Baptist Church where Ernest Pickering served as pastor. Incidentally, Pickering was also the dean at Central Seminary while he pastored. Ray enrolled at Central Seminary that fall, and Marie worked to help put him through seminary.

After three grueling years in the Bachelor of Divinity program (the B.D. was the equivalent of today’s M.Div.), Ray had completed all his coursework—only his thesis remained. In the spring of 1964, the Pratts received a call to Morris, MN, so that Ray could be pastor of the First Baptist Church. Ray completed his B.D. thesis during his first year in Morris, and together he and Marie ministered to the congregation there until 1967 when they were asked to join the faculty at Pillsbury Baptist Bible College in Owatonna, MN. That same year two other Central Seminary graduates were also invited to join the Bible faculty at Pillsbury—Russ Dell and Sam Telloyan.

The Pratts enjoyed 17 years of ministry at Pillsbury as Ray taught in the Bible and pastorology departments as well as assuming administrative roles, first as Dean of Students and then as Registrar. Marie held several part-time jobs in the college offices, but her primary ministry was to the four children God had given them. The Pratts also enjoyed the ministry of Grace Baptist Church where both enthusiastically served.

Owatonna proved to be a wonderful town in which to raise the family, and the Pratts enjoyed these years immensely. They made many lifelong friends, both at the college and church; Ray completed his Th.M. degree from Central Seminary in 1974; and they experienced the many joys and sorrows that accompanied the ministries at Pillsbury and Grace Baptist.

The greatest sorrow of their time in Owatonna was the upheaval that took place at the college in the spring of 1984 (you can read about it here). This led to a painful departure that summer, as they moved to Evansville, IN, where Ray became the principal of a Christian school. While Ray’s heart had always been oriented toward Christian education, he especially loved higher education, so when he received an invitation to apply for a teaching position at Baptist Bible College in Springfield, MO, he did so immediately. BBC hired him to teach in the fall of 1985. He would join his good friend, Russ Dell, who was the dean of the college. The Pratts joined Parkcrest Baptist Church and would serve there for 25 years. Meanwhile, Ray taught several courses in BBC’s graduate school and he split his time between the grad school and the college where he taught the theology courses.

After teaching at BBC for 15 years, Ray experienced two heart attacks in a span of 6 months, the second of which basically destroyed half of his heart’s function. He had bypass surgery in early 2000, and he was able to continue teaching for two more years. But the after effects of the heart attacks and surgery caused him great fatigue, especially when he had to climb several flights of stairs every day just to get to his 3rd floor office (the building was built before ADA standards required elevators). So, after teaching for 17 years at BBC (the same number of years he had taught at Pillsbury), Ray retired from his teaching ministry in 2002.

When Marie retired in 2010, the Pratts moved back to Minnesota to be near three of their four children (their daughter, Susie and family live in England where they serve with a missions agency). They have enjoyed seeing their 10 grandchildren grow up in these years even as they have been engaged in the ministry at Chisago Lakes Baptist Church. God has continued to keep them both healthy in mind and body, although Ray did endure another small heart attack in the fall of 2024, but the Lord brought him through again. The Lord has graciously given them eight great-grandchildren with a ninth due in September.

Marriage is one of the most beautiful gifts God has given His children, but as with any gift it can be strengthened, merely maintained, damaged, or lost entirely. And marriage lived out in vocational ministry faces the additional challenges of lack of time as well as lack of financial resources. Yet the Pratt’s marriage has endured and flourished through all these years. How?

When asked, they came up with six reasons: 1) they sought to pursue God’s will as the priority of their lives; 2) they loved each other sacrificially; 3) they learned to put up with each other’s idiosyncrasies; 4) they kept short accounts when they faced disagreements; 5) they never made any major financial purchases without collaboration; and 6) they always kissed, said “I love you,” and prayed together every night before going to sleep. I would add three more reasons: 1) they loved the local church and dedicated their lives to serving others through the ministry of their church; 2) they modeled the truth of Deuteronomy 6:5 (“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might”) and Psalm 78:4 (“We will not conceal [the truth] from [our] children, but will recount to the generation to come the praises of Yahweh, and His strength and His wondrous deeds that He has done”) for their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren; and 3) they have followed God’s pattern for a blessed marriage described in Ephesians 5:22–33.

I am blessed to be the oldest son of Ray and Marie Pratt, and along with my siblings, Kristen, Susie, and Tim, we rise up and praise God for His grace given to them. This grace has produced their faith in God, their persevering obedience to His Word, and their enduring love to each other for lo, these sixty-five years together.

This essay is by Jon Pratt, Vice President of Academics and Professor of New Testament at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

How Blest the Sacred Tie

Anna Letitia Barbauld (1743–1825)

How blest the sacred tie, that binds
In union sweet according minds!
How swift the heav’nly course they run,
Whose hearts, and faith, and hopes are one!

To each the soul of each how dear!
What watchful love, what holy fear!
How doth the gen’rous flame within
Refine from earth and cleanse from sin!

Their streaming eyes together flow,
For human guilt and mortal woe;
Their ardent pray’rs together rise,
Like mingling flames in sacrifice.

Together both they seek the place,
Where God reveals his awful face;
How high, how strong, their raptures swell,
There’s none but kindred souls can tell.

Association and Autonomy

by Kevin Bauder | May 29, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

The following essay was published in 1995 in Ruminations. Recent pronouncements in the Southern Baptist convention have underlined its current applicability.

An Association is a voluntary society formed and maintained for mutual help among the churches associated…. No Church is under obligation to affiliate with it; and any connected church can withdraw cooperation, at any time, for any reasons which seem to itself sufficient, without prejudice to either its evangelical or its denominational reputation and standing. But while it continues associated, it must abide by the rules and regulations, mutually agreed upon, by which the body is governed…. If any Church does not approve the proceedings it can refuse to affiliate, and withdraw at any time from the Association, if it thinks best.
Edward T. Hiscox, New Directory for Baptist Churches (1894), 335

The year is 1922; the scene, the Northern Baptist Convention at Indianapolis, Indiana. Cadle Tabernacle is packed as W. B. Riley stands and moves that the Convention recommend the New Hampshire Confession of Faith to the churches. In solemn tones, he reads the Confession through. As soon as he has finished, Convention treasurer James Colgate jumps to his feet. “So that’s the New Hampshire Confession, is it?” he says. “I thought Dr. Riley was reading off the back of a Western Union telegraph blank.”

Cornelius Woelfkin, pastor of the prestigious Park Avenue Church in New York City, then offers a substitute motion: “The Northern Baptist Convention affirms that the New Testament is the all-sufficient ground of our faith and practice, and we need no other statement.” Woelfkin’s motion lands like an 88mm shell among the embattled fundamentalists. They cannot vote for the New Hampshire Confession without voting against the New Testament. When the vote is taken, the New Hampshire Confession is rejected by a margin of two to one.

The Woelfkin motion teaches a lesson that ought to be branded on the forehead of every serious Baptist. Any principle that we hold can be twisted and used against us, and the more dearly we hold the principle, the more dangerously it may be warped. Woelfkin embezzled the first and most important of the Baptist distinctives: the absolute authority and sufficiency of the New Testament in all matters of church faith and order. In his hands it became a threat to the purity of the faith.

A misunderstood principle is always a hazard. We find it easy to repeat slogans but harder work to define our distinctives or to understand the applications and limitations of our principles. It behooves us sometimes to reflect soberly upon first things.

No belief has been more characteristic of Baptist churches than the autonomy of the local church. We have always refused to submit the local church to the authority of any external hierarchy, synod, board or denomination. The liberty of the individual congregation is a rallying cry for all true Baptists.

But precisely because this doctrine is so important to us, we must be more careful than usual in examining those who appeal to it during times of debate. We must make certain that we are not being hoodwinked by someone who knows our language but misapplies our principles. In fact, I believe that many individuals are making very bad use of this doctrine today.

For example, take the current [in 1995] debate over the inerrancy of Scripture within the Southern Baptist Convention. As I write, I am looking at the words of a man who claims that it is unbaptistic to require Convention churches to affirm inerrancy. Such a requirement, he argues, would violate their autonomy: they must have the liberty to define their own doctrines.

This is the same argument that was made repeatedly against the fundamentalists during the battle for control of the Northern Baptist Convention. You could not force a man or a church to accept your theories about the inspiration of the Bible, or the incarnation, or the atonement, they said. To do so was to violate Baptist liberty.

Even in the early days of the GARBC, some questioned the validity of establishing tests of fellowship. In an essay entitled, Can a Baptist Body Define the Requirements of Its Own Membership Without Violating the Sovereignty of the Local Church?, Robert Ketcham argued convincingly that it could. He suggested an analogy between an association’s relationship to the churches and the individual church’s relationship to its members. A local church, he said, can certainly define requirements for membership without violating anybody’s soul liberty. In the same way, an association can define requirements for fellowship without violating any church’s autonomy.

The analogy cuts to the heart of the matter. Fellowship, whether it takes place in the local church or in an association, must always have some basis. In stipulating requirements for fellowship, the church or association is actually stating the basis of its fellowship. It is saying what all those who stand in its ranks hold in common. As David Nettleton taught us, we must either limit our message or limit our fellowship.

The local church is free to decide the locus and extent of its own fellowship. No one can force a church to cooperate with any organization. The church must decide for itself, on the basis of the organization’s position. Tests of fellowship not only keep churches out, they also attract churches of like belief. If for some reason the organization changes its position, the individual local congregation is free to pack its bags and leave. In another essay, Ketcham argued that this ability to withdraw at any time for any reason was the sine qua non of “Baptist doctrine and principle.”

Strictly speaking, then, no test of fellowship that an association adopts can be regarded as an abridgment of local church autonomy as long as the local church possesses the ability to leave the association unscathed. If an association demands that all churches in its fellowship must paint blue circles in their parking lots, it is within its rights. Any churches that object to the standard are free to leave—and assuredly many will.

Therefore, if a truly Baptist association is discussing whether to implement or retain some test of fellowship, it is never proper to raise the issue of local church autonomy. The only proper question is whether the proposed standard is justified. The question stands or falls on its own merits: if the proposed standard is necessary to define the position of the organization, then it ought to be adopted. If it is not necessary, or if the position it defines is an unworthy position, then it ought to be rejected. Some churches may be attracted whichever decision the organization makes, and some will leave whichever decision it makes. In neither case is the autonomy of the local church at stake.

Blest Be That Dear Uniting Love

Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Blest be that dear uniting love,
That will not let us part!
Our bodies may far off remove,
We still are one in heart.

Join’d in one spirit to our Head,
Where he appoints we go;
And still in Jesu’s footsteps tread,
And shew his praise below.

O may we ever walk in him,
And nothing know beside,
Nothing desire, nothing esteem,
But Jesus crucify’d!

Closer and closer let us cleave
To his belov’d embrace;
Expect his fulness to receive,
And grace to answer grace.

Partakers of the Saviour’s grace,
The same in mind and heart,
Nor joy, nor grief, nor time, nor place,
Nor life, nor death can part.

But let us hasten to the day
Which shall our flesh restore;
When death shall all be done away,
And bodies part no more!

The Only Begotten

by Kevin Bauder | May 22, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

The apostle John concludes his examination of the Word in John 1:15–18. He states that John the Baptist testified about the Word, who existed beforehand. He recognizes the Word as the source of grace and truth. He names the Word specifically as Jesus Christ.

John’s closing observations in 1:18 are as important as anything he has written. The verse raises several interpretive and theological questions. Answering these questions requires a bit of extra discussion and detail.

John begins by noting that no one has ever seen God. Anyone familiar with the Old Testament would recognize the truth of this statement. God did sometimes adopt certain visible appearances, so that people could be said to have “seen” God (Exod 24:9–11). But what they saw was not God Himself. It was only a glorious appearance that God took for the occasion. As Moses later wrote, they saw “no manner of similitude,” no form, no likeness (Deut 4:15). That is why all images of God were strictly forbidden (Deut 4:15–18).

Yet John insists that Jesus Christ has “revealed” God. Different versions translate this word in various ways: declared (KJV), explained (NASB, LSV), made…known (NIV, ESV), revealed (HCSB). The term has the idea of relating or setting something forth in detail. John is claiming that Jesus Christ either gives or is the detailed disclosure of God.

In John 1:18, the text probably applies the label God specifically to God the Father. To say that no one has seen God is to say that no one has seen the Father. Why draw this distinction?

Sometimes Jesus (the Word) is identified as God. Other times He is distinguished from God. John does both these things in John 1:1. He says that the Word was with God, and yet the Word was God. Jesus, the Son, is God. People have seen Jesus—they have seen the Son. So when John says that no one has ever seen God, he cannot be speaking about the Son. He must be speaking about the Father, who is unseen and invisible (John 5:37; 1 Tim 1:17). When the term God is used without any other designation or qualification, it may be speaking specifically of God the Father. That is what John 1:18 does.

Jesus has a different designation in this verse. Translations differ in how they render it. They say that He is the only begotten (KJV, NKJV, NASB, LSB), only (ESV), or one and only (HCSB, NIV). The traditional understanding of the word is only begotten. About a hundred years ago, some Greek scholars began to suggest that this expression might better be translated as unique. They traced the word to a different etymology. They also found some occurrences in secular Greek that seemed to fit the notion of unique better than begotten. As recently as thirty years ago, unique was still being taught as the best translation.

Since then, the pendulum has swung in the other direction. Many theologians and Greek scholars are recognizing that John 1:18 is drawing attention to the begetting of the Word. This shift is important, because only begotten is the term that describes most precisely the relationship between God the Father and God the Son. Begetting is what distinguishes the Father from the Son. The Father is unbegotten. The Son is begotten but not made. This begetting is not simply a matter of Christ’s incarnation, but of the Second Person’s eternal subsistence in relation to the First Person.

So is Christ only begotten or is He unique? The answer is yes! Both are theologically correct. But the text is probably emphasizing His begotteness rather than His uniqueness.

One more thing needs to be said about only begotten. Begetting is not the same thing as beginning. Psalm 2:7 declares that the Father has begotten the Son “this day.” Paul quotes this verse and applies it to the resurrection of Jesus (Acts 13:28–37). Clearly the resurrection is not when Jesus began. In an important sense, the resurrection represents His begetting in terms of its public declaration. But it is not His beginning. Neither is His birth in the manger of Bethlehem. For the Father to be the Father, and for the Son to be the Son, the begetting and generation of the Son must be an ongoing and eternal act.

John 1:18 raises one more significant question. Some ancient manuscripts of the text call Jesus the only begotten Son. Other, even more ancient manuscripts call Him the only begotten God. Which is correct?

Theologically, both are true. Christ is the Father’s only begotten Son. He is also the only begotten God. The Father, while God, is unbegotten. The Holy Spirit, while God, is not begotten but proceeds. Only the Son is begotten. He is the only begotten God.

Early copyists of the Greek New Testament regularly used abbreviations. The abbreviation for God (theta sigma) and the abbreviation for son (upsilon sigma, with a rough breathing mark over the upsilon) are nearly indistinguishable if written rapidly. Copyists could easily mistake one for the other. What seems to have happened is that the early reading God was mistaken and written as son by a scribe who had just read only begotten. But this is a difference without any theological impact. Jesus Christ is both the only begotten Son and the only begotten God.

The point of this passage is that Jesus Christ, God’s only begotten, has made God’s character and will known to humans. Christ is the detailed revelation of who God is. Because He is God with the Father, He discloses the Father’s disposition and will.

Later in Jesus’ ministry, the disciple Philip asked Jesus to show him the Father (John 14:8). The request recalls the incident when Moses asked to see God’s glory (Exod 33:18). God told Moses that no one could see His glory and live (33:20). Moses only got to see God’s afterglow (Exod 33:23). But Jesus told Philip that whoever has seen Him has seen the Father (John 14:9). Philip had already been given the privilege that was denied to Moses. As Paul puts it, those who have met Jesus have seen the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Cor 4:6).

There is only one God. The Father is God. The Son is God. The Holy Spirit is God. They are not different Gods, but the same God. Each possesses the whole divine nature. We humans cannot ever see more of God than can be seen in Jesus Christ. All that the Father is, the Son is, except that the Son is not the Father. If we want to know God, then let us turn to the Son, the Word, Jesus Christ.

Come, Lord, and Tarry Not

Horatius Bonar (1808–1889)

Come, Lord, and tarry not;
Bring the long-looked-for day;
Oh, why these years of waiting here,
These ages of delay?

Come, for Thy saints still wait;
Daily ascends their sigh:
The Spirit and the Bride say, Come!
Dost Thou not hear the cry?

Come, for creation groans,
Impatient of Thy stay,
Worn out with these long years of ill,
These ages of delay.

Come, and make all things new,
Build up this ruined earth,
Restore our faded paradise,—
Creation’s second birth.

Come, and bring Thy reign
Of everlasting peace;
Come, take the kingdom to Thyself,
Great King of Righteousness!

Dealing with Implications

by Kevin Bauder | May 15, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

Jesus Christ (the Word of John 1) is one person in two natures. He is the eternal Second Person of the Godhead, a fully divine person. In His incarnation, He assumed a complete human nature. His divine nature retains all the attributes of deity. His human nature displays all the attributes of humanity. The properties of each nature communicate to the person, according to their respective natures. But they do not communicate to the other nature. In other words, the divine nature must not be humanized, and the human nature must not be divinized (though some Lutherans dispute this claim).

This rubric accounts for the apparent contradictions in the way that the Bible speaks about Christ. Sometimes Scripture depicts Him as equal with God (John 5:18; 8:58; Heb 13:8). Sometimes it depicts Him as subservient to or dependent upon the Father (John 5:30; 1 Cor 11:3; Heb 10:7). In the first case, Scripture speaks according to Christ’s divine nature. In the second case, it speaks according to His human nature.

Sometimes Scripture does both at once. For example, Romans 9:5 points to the human nature of Christ when it says that He came from Israel according to the flesh. The same verse points to His divine nature when it says that He is “over all, God blessed forever.”

Occasionally, the Bible will speak of Christ’s person according to one nature while focusing upon some property of the other nature. In Acts 3:15, Peter accuses Jews of having killed the Prince of life. Paul uses similar language when he says that the rulers crucified the Lord of glory. Being killed or crucified are activities of the human nature, but Lord of glory and Prince of life are titles of the divine nature.

Speaking to the Ephesian elders, Paul says that God purchased the church with His own blood (Acts 20:28). Blood is a property of the human nature—God as God does not have blood. But the divine title is used for Christ, because He is true God.

Protestants get nervous when they hear Catholics calling Mary the “Mother of God.” They want to object that God doesn’t have a mother—and He doesn’t, as God. But the person of Jesus Christ has a mother, and that person is also God. Even if the phrase “Mother of God” risks evoking some of the wrong impressions, denying its truth is the heresy of Nestorianism.

The same principle applies to the sufferings of Christ. Should Christians confess that God suffered on the cross? Should they say that the Father abandoned, forsook, or judged the Son? The short answer is that, according to His divine nature, Christ cannot suffer or be separated from the Father. Yet according to His human nature He could and did suffer God’s wrath for our imputed guilt. Importantly, it was the person who suffered, even if He suffered according to His human nature. If Scripture can say that the Lord of glory was crucified and that the Prince of life was killed, then Christians cannot be wrong to say that God suffered or was forsaken on the cross.

Furthermore, if Jesus truly possessed two complete natures, then He also had two wills: a human and a divine. These two natural wills are not opposed to each other. Christ’s divine will is identical to the will of the Father and the Holy Spirit, for the Triune God has only one will. Jesus’ human will is subject to the divine will, as seen in the Garden of Gethsemane (Luke 22:42).

Both Christ’s divine nature and His human nature are essential for our salvation. Only a human could suffer the penalty for human sin (Rom 5:12–21; 1 Cor 15:21–22; Heb 2:10–18). But this substitutionary sacrifice is effective only because it is backed by the power of an endless or indestructible life (Heb 7:16). That kind of immortality belongs to God alone. To save humans, the Redeemer had to be both human and divine, both man and God.

Since both are necessary for salvation, this union of two natures in one person can never be dissolved. Although the Word became flesh at a point in time, once He assumed a human nature He became human for eternity. The union of the Second Person of the Godhead with a sinless human nature is permanent. Christ will always be the God-man.

Since the resurrection and ascension, Jesus’ humanity has experienced glorification. God has highly exalted Him (Phil 2:9). He has been raised “Far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come” (Eph 1:21). This glory is distinct from the eternal glory that the Second Person enjoyed with the Father as Adonai and Yahweh (Isa 6:1–5, c.f. John 12:41).

Before He could be glorified, however, He was first humbled (Phil 2:5–8). Even though He had subsisted eternally in the form of God, He did not consider equality with God a thing to be selfishly grasped. Instead, He emptied Himself. This emptying included two elements: (1) receiving the form of a slave and (2) coming to be in human likeness. His humiliation extended to the experience of human death. His death was not just any death, and certainly not a noble death. It was a contemptible death, a criminal’s death on the cross. Only after Christ’s enduring such profound rejection and misery did God exalt Him.

He dwelt among us. This phrase sums up the incarnation, the self-emptying, the appalling humiliation to which God the Son subjected Himself. Yet He endured all these things, including the cross, because He anticipated the joy of bringing many sons to glory (Heb 2:10; 12:2). He possesses authority to save us now because as the God-man he has earned that right.

For He Hath Triumphed Gloriously!

Cosmas, the Melodist (?–760); tr. John Mason Neale (1818–1866)

CHRIST is born! Tell forth His fame!
CHRIST from Heaven! His love proclaim!
CHRIST on earth! Exalt His Name!
Sing to the LORD, O world, with exultation!
Break forth in glad thanksgiving, every nation!
For He hath triumphed gloriously!

Man, in GOD’s own Image made,
Man, by Satan’s wiles betrayed,
Man, on whom corruption preyed,
Shut out from hope of life and of salvation,
Today CHRIST maketh him a new creation,
For He hath triumphed gloriously!

For the Maker, when His foe,
Wrought the creature death and woe,
Bowed the Heav’ns, and came below,
And in the Virgin’s womb His dwelling making
Became true man, man’s very nature taking
For He hath triumphed gloriously!

He, the Wisdom, WORD, and Might,
GOD, and SON, and Light of light,
Undiscovered by the sight
Of earthly monarch, or infernal spirit,
Incarnate was, that we might Heav’n inherit;
For He hath triumphed gloriously!

He Dwelt Among Us

by Kevin Bauder | May 8, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

The apostle John calls Jesus the Word. He affirms that the Word was God. He also affirms that the Word became flesh. The same person who was God before the beginning assumed a complete human nature in time. He became the God-man. While continuing to subsist as one, single person, He now had two natures.

This assumption of humanity is a great mystery. Finite beings can never fully understand what it means. Still, Scripture does reveal some of what it means, if we are willing to think hard about it. For example, Christians affirm that the Word now subsists “without confusion, without change, without division, without separation.”

The Word became flesh. Furthermore, the Word “dwelt among us” (John 1:14). He did not assume human nature as a mere theoretical construct. Rather, He came and lived as a human among humans. The God-man lived a fully human life. He plunged into the natural world that He had created. The Uncreated became part of His own creation.

This truth staggers the imagination. He who was before all beginnings had a beginning. He who made all things became a thing made. How can a rational person affirm such seeming opposites?

The answer lies in the one-person-two-natures doctrine of Chalcedon. The one person Jesus Christ is both God and man. Because He is God, He possesses all divine attributes. Because He is human, he possesses all human attributes. He claims any property that is essential to being human.

Before explaining what that means, one qualification is necessary. Jesus does not display features that were not part of the original human nature but that humans later picked up. In particular, the Word does not sin. Sin is not a necessary property of human nature. Sin is an accretion (or, more accurately, a deprivation) that has never been necessary to complete humanity. Before the fall, humans did not sin. After glorification, saved people will never sin again. Christ never sinned, and, as a divine-human person, never could sin. More on that in a moment.

Here is where the apparent conflict comes in: the properties that the person of Christ displays in His human nature seem incompatible with those that He enjoys in His divine nature. According to His divine nature, He is eternal—before all beginnings. According to His human nature, He had a beginning when He became flesh.

According to His divine nature, Christ is everywhere present in the fulness of His being. Yet while He dwelt among us, He could be found in some particular place at any given moment. He occupied specific locations: a manger, a ship, a mountain, a cross, a tomb.

Similarly, according to His divine nature, Christ knows all things and possesses all wisdom. But when He dwelt among us, Christ did not know the day or hour of His own coming (Mark 12:32). He even had to ask who touched Him (Luke 8:45–46). According to His human nature, He was ignorant of some things.

The whole point of Christ’s arrival in the world hinged on one of these apparent contradictions. As God, He was eternal, immortal, and invisible (1 Tim 1:17). But when He came to earth, He was given a mortal body (Heb 10:5–9). For the time He was here, He was made lower than the angels so that He could suffer death (Heb 2:9), and He actually did taste death for everyone.

Christians hold certain simple propositions to be true. God cannot die. Christ is God. Yet Christ died. Is this a brute contradiction?

The answer is no. Christ is one person in two natures. Each nature retains its native properties or attributes. Whatever can be said about either nature can be said about the person, but only according to that nature. In other words, the properties of each nature communicate to the person. Yet the properties of each nature do not communicate to the other nature.

Therefore, while He dwelt among us, Christ was eternal according to His divine nature but temporal according to His human nature. His human nature did not become eternal. His divine nature did not become temporal. But as one person, He is truly eternal and truly temporal, according to the respective natures.

This is why biblical Christianity affirms that Christ could not sin. God cannot even be tempted to sin (Jas 1:13). He is utterly holy (Hab 1:13; Rev 4:8). According to His divine nature, Christ could not be tempted and could not sin. Yet according to His human nature, He could be tempted, and He really did experience temptation (Matt 4:1–11). Does the temptability of His human nature mean that Jesus could sin?

Even supposing that Jesus could sin according to His human nature, His human nature was never free to act on its own. To affirm two natures that can act independently (like two separate persons) is the heresy of Nestorianism. Jesus’ human nature was always joined to His divine nature in His one person. To use an analogy, even if His human nature could be bent like a paperclip, the paperclip was permanently welded to a massive bar of iron (His divine nature) that could never bend. Even if Jesus could sin according to His human nature, His person never could. And natures never sin. Only persons do.

The rule is this: whatever can be said about either of Christ’s natures can be said about His person according to that nature. Nevertheless, it cannot be said about the other nature. This “communication of predicates” is fundamental to right thinking about the incarnation of Christ. But it also raises other questions that John does not address directly. It may be worth taking a brief detour to discuss some of those questions.

He Who on Earth as Man Was Known

John Newton (1725–1807)

He who on earth as man was known,
And bore our sins and pains;
Now, seated on th’ eternal throne,
The God of glory reigns.

His hands the wheels of nature guide
With an unerring skill;
And countless worlds extended wide,
Obey his sov’reign will.

While harps unnumber’d sound his praise,
In yonder world above;
His saints on earth admire his ways,
And glory in his love.

His righteousness, to faith reveal’d,
Wrought out for guilty worms;
Affords a hiding place and shield,
From enemies and storms.

This land thro’ which his pilgrims go,
Is desolate and dry;
But streams of grace from him o’erflow,
Their thirst to satisfy.

When troubles like a burning sun,
Beat heavy on their head;
To this almighty rock they run,
And find a pleasing shade.

How glorious he! how happy they
In such a glorious friend!
Whose love secures them all the way,
And crowns them at the end.

The Word Became Flesh

by Kevin Bauder | May 1, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

The introduction to John’s Gospel provides a rich description of the person of Jesus Christ, whom John calls the Word. He existed before every beginning. He was with God, which implies some level of distinction from God. Yet He possessed all the qualities or properties that belong to God—the entire divine nature. These assertions can only be held together by the doctrine of the Trinity. The Word is the eternal Second Person of the Godhead, but He is not the Father and He is not the Holy Spirit. He is the Son.

The Word is God. The Word is also the life and the light. He is the one who provides salvation for humans. When people believe on His name, He is the one who grants them authority to become God’s children.

The Word extended life and light to humans by coming unto His own. What He did to provide salvation is a wonderful story, but it is a story that presupposes an important question. How did He come unto His own? How could the eternal one, the one who was always face-to-face with God, and the one who possessed all divine attributes—how could that one come unto His own?

That question is answered in John 1:14, “And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.” This verse draws attention to the Word coming unto His own. The Word was made flesh. The Word dwelt among us. These are marvels, and they need to be rightly understood.

John does not use the term for making in this verse. He uses the term for becoming: the Word became flesh. What does that mean?

It certainly does not mean that any of the Word’s deity was converted into humanity. God does not change (Mal 3:6). He is always the same as to His being and His personhood. No change ever occurs in the divine nature. God did not somehow morph deity into humanity.

Nor did God trade off divinity for humanity. He did not cash in fifty dollars’ worth of deity to swap for a nickel’s worth of humanity. God can never stop being God. God has no degrees of divinity. God can never be less God than He is. Nothing ever was, and nothing ever could be, subtracted from the divine nature.

Even among the divine persons there are no degrees of God-ness. The Father is fully God. The Son is fully God. The Holy Spirit is fully God. All are of the same substance. Each is equal in glory, power, majesty, and dignity to the others. When He emptied Himself (Phil 2:7), Christ did not lay aside a single fragment of His deity.

The Word became flesh, not by conversion or by subtraction, but by assumption. He took a human nature into His divine person. His deity remained unchanged, but He became something that He had never before been: a genuine, complete human.

In His incarnation, the eternal Second Person of the Godhead took a complete human nature into His divine person. This act is sometimes called the hypostatic union, which means a union of natures. His divine and human natures remained distinct and unmixed, but they are united in one person.

People easily misunderstand the union of human and divine within Christ. Some imagine that this union makes Him a kind of mixture. For example, one ancient teacher (Apollinaris) thought that Jesus had a human body and soul, but that the divine Logos took the place of His human spirit. The problem with making Jesus a mixture is that this tactic always erodes His human nature.

By replacing Jesus’ human spirit with the divine Logos, Apollinaris made Jesus less than fully human. The same thing happened with another ancient teacher, Eutyches. He imagined the union of human and divine in Christ was like mixing a drop of honey in an ocean of water. The honey would be absorbed in the water. While really present in the water, it would be so diluted as to be undetectable. The effect of Eutychianism was to make the humanity of Christ less complete and real.

Such efforts to safeguard the deity of the Word erode His humanity. They do a disservice to the notion that the Word became flesh. If the Word is truly the life and light of humanity, then His human nature must necessarily be complete. He had to become like those He came to save. He had to become like them in every respect except one: He was without sin (Heb 4:15).

Another flawed explanation of the Word’s incarnation is that He joined His eternal, divine person to a completely distinct human person. Those who held this view thought that Jesus’ divine personhood was conjoined to His deity much like Siamese twins are connected. Thus, Mary did not give birth to the divine person, but only the human person. The divine Word traveled through her like water through a pipe.

This theory was advocated by the followers of Nestorius. It creates a significant problem. It keeps Christians from worshipping one Lord Jesus Christ. Furthermore, Christians cannot tell which person (divine or human) was speaking and acting during any moment on earth. They do not know which person died on the cross. They do not know which person to trust for salvation. The Nestorian view implies that God was cooperating with a man, but that Christ was not a single God-man.

Early Christian leaders wrestled with the question of how to express the truth that the Word became flesh. How could they explain this truth as fully as possible without saying more than Scripture authorized? After many false starts, they agreed upon the following language (drafted at Chalcedon in 451). They said that Jesus is fully God and fully human, and that He possesses two natures, “without confusion, without change, without division, without separation.” As the centuries have passed, no one has found a way to say it any better.

This summary statement hedges against important errors. At the same time, it raises yet other questions. Some of those questions are also implied by the rest of John 1:14. They will be worth looking at.

O Gladsome Light

Samuel Longfellow (1819–1892)

O gladsome Light, O Grace
Of God the Father’s face,
Eternal splendor wearing:
Celestial, holy, blest,
Our Savior and our guest,
Joyful in your appearing.

Day has not faded quite;
We see the sunset light,
Our evening hymn outpouring,
Father, incarnate Son,
Who our redemption won,
Spirit of both adoring.

Glory to you belongs
And praise of holy songs,
O Three in One, Life-giver;
Therefore, our God most high,
We worship, glorify,
And praise your name forever.

As Many As Received Him

by Kevin Bauder | Apr 24, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

In the introduction to his Gospel, John identifies the Word as both life and light. By naming Him this way, John teaches that the Word is the one who mediates salvation to human beings. The Word is the one through whom God saves whoever gets saved.

But that salvation is not automatic. It is conditional. God saves only some people, not all of them. In John 1:10–13, John specifies the condition of salvation. He tells us how people get saved.

He begins by rehearsing a part of what he has already said about the Word. First, the Word was in the world. John is probably not referring to the Incarnation here. He is probably talking about the divine presence of the Second Person of the Godhead. From the instant of creation, God the Son was everywhere present. He was active in His creation.

Second, the world was made by Him. Creation is usually associated with the First Person of the Godhead, God the Father. But John here reminds his readers that the Father made the world through the Son. The Son never came to be. He never had a beginning. But the world did have a beginning, and it began as the result of the creative activity of the Word.

John is here repeating what he has already taught in John 1:3, “All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.” Other texts teach this same truth. For example, 1 Corinthians 8:6 states that, “there is…one Lord Jesus Christ, by whom are all things, and we by him.” Colossians 1:16 says, “For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him.” Hebrews 1:12 names the Son as the one, “by whom also he [God] made the worlds.”

The Word is not the Father, but He is the Creator. Because He is the Creator, He has a creator’s rights over all things. Everything belongs to Him. Every rock, every tree, every microbe is His.

Humans belong to Him in a special sense. We are created in His image and likeness. He has granted us dominion (Gen 1:26–28). Furthermore, when He entered the world in the Incarnation, He came to be in human likeness (Phil 2:7). What that entails will be the subject of a later conversation. One thing is clear, though: by entering the human race, He came unto His own.

The Word was not only incarnated as a human being. He was specifically incarnated as a descendant of Abraham (Gal 3:16). He was an Israelite of the tribe of Judah and the family of David. He was not a generic human, but a specific human of a specific ethnicity and clan.

The expression “He came unto His own” (1:11) is therefore freighted with meaning. All created things are His own, but inanimate creatures could hardly receive or reject Him. All humans are His own by both creation and kinship. Jewish people are particularly His near kin. When He came into the world, He came to and for human beings in general, and He came to offer Himself to and for Israel specifically.

The result, surprisingly, was rejection. He came unto His own, but His own did not accept Him. His own did not take Him to themselves. The majority of both Jews and Gentiles rejected Him.

But not everyone rejected Him. Some received Him. And here is the astonishing thing: as many as received Him, He gave authority to become children of God. In the most important sense, they were not children of God by creation. But they received authority to become God’s children, and they received it from the Word. Only the Word has the power to make humans into God’s children.

But we must receive Him. What does that mean? John clarifies: “to the ones who believe on His name.” A person’s name often stands for that person’s authority. When a police officer says, “Halt in the name of the law,” the officer is invoking the authority of the law. When we believe on Jesus’s name, we are recognizing the authority of Jesus to make us children of God. In plain language, we are trusting Him.

To receive Jesus is to trust Him. We are born “by nature the children of wrath” (Eph 2:3) We need a change of family. To receive everlasting life, we must be born into God’s family. We need to be born again (John 3:3). When we trust Jesus, He gives us the authority to become God’s children. At that point, we are born into God’s family.

John explicitly equates becoming a child of God with being born (John 1:13). He denies that this birth ever came from blood (human descent), from fleshly will (human decision), or from the will of a man (a father’s wish). On the contrary, those who become children of God are born of God.

Often Christians will comment that they are adopted into God’s family. That is not correct. Nobody is ever adopted into God’s family We only get into God’s family by being born, and specifically, by being born again.

Of course, we are also adopted as sons, but our adoption is not an entrance into God’s family. Adoption assumes that we are God’s children. Adoption tells us where we stand in God’s family. Sonship stands opposed to slavery (Rom 8:15). It is our standing of adulthood as those who have received their inheritance. Our adoption is not yet complete. It will be completed at the redemption (resurrection) of our bodies (Rom 8:23).

We are born as children of disobedience and wrath (Eph 2:2–3; Eph 5:6). But the Word has the authority to make us children of God. He is the life. He is the light. He has come unto His own, and He is able to change our family. But whether we become God’s children depends upon how we respond to Him. If we receive the Word and believe on His name, then He gives us the right to become children of God. But refusing Him is the very thing that makes us children of disobedience. If we reject Him, then we must continue toward judgment as children of wrath.

“I Am,” Saith Christ

Joseph Hart (1712–1768)

“I am,” saith Christ, “the Way”;
Now, if we credit him,
All other paths must lead astray,
How fair soe’er they seem.

“I am,” saith Christ, “the Truth”;
Then all that lacks this test,
Proceed it from an angel’s mouth,
Is but a lie at best.

“I am,” saith Christ, “the Life”;
Let this be seen by faith,
It follows, without further strife,
That all besides is death.

If what those words aver,
The Holy Ghost apply,
The simplest Christian shall not err,
Nor be deceived, nor die.

2026 Commencement

by Micah Tanis | Apr 24, 2026 | Notices, Our Alumni, Our Students | 1 Comment

Central Seminary to Celebrate 70th Commencement

PLYMOUTH, MN — Central Baptist Theological Seminary is pleased to announce its 70th commencement to be held on Friday, May 15, at 7:00 PM. The ceremony will take place in the auditorium of Fourth Baptist Church.

This year, Central Seminary will confer degrees on graduates who have completed rigorous programs in the Master of Arts in Biblical Counseling, Master of Arts in Theology, and Master of Divinity. These men and women represent the next generation of spiritual leaders equipped for Christ-exalting, biblical ministry.

The commencement address will be delivered by Ron Gotzman. Having served the seminary with distinction for over 30 years as Vice President of Advancement, Ron Gotzman is transitioning to a new role as Legacy Advisor. Throughout his three decades of service, he has been a vital link between the seminary and the local church, frequently filling pulpits and regularly connecting Central alumni with churches seeking faithful leadership in ministry.

The day’s festivities begin with a meeting of the Board of Trustees. Central Seminary extends its sincere thanks to the Board for its diligent oversight and personal involvement in the school’s mission. Following the Board meeting, the graduates and their families will join the faculty for the annual graduate family dinner. This cherished tradition offers a time of fellowship and reflection before the formal ceremony.

All are invited to attend the 7:00 PM service to celebrate these graduates’ achievements.

The Life Was the Light

by Kevin Bauder | Apr 17, 2026 | In the Nick of Time | 0 Comments

In the opening verses of the fourth Gospel, John refers to Jesus as the Word. In 1:4, the apostle claims that life is in the Word. He also states that this life is the light of humankind.

This is a cryptic statement. In what sense is Jesus Christ the light of humanity? To answer this question correctly, we must recognize how John uses the contrast between light and darkness in his Gospel.

It is a contrast to which he returns repeatedly. In the very next verse (1:5), John says, “The light is shining in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it.” Here the verb for comprehend could mean to understand. It could also mean to appropriate as one’s own. It could also mean to overcome or gain control of something. A correct understanding of the verse depends less on how the word is translated than on recognizing the vast difference and opposition between light and darkness.

John also employs the contrast in 3:18–21. He declares that failure to believe on the only-begotten Son of God results in condemnation (3:18). Someone who refuses to believe on Christ is condemned by that very act. Then John adds, “this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (3:19). People who do evil hate the light. They fear that the light will expose their deeds. But people who practice truth seek the light, and the light makes their deeds obvious.

The contrast continues in John 8:12, where Jesus states that He is the light of the world. He says, “he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.” Here again life is joined with light, and both are contrasted with walking in darkness.

The most extended contrast between light and darkness comes in John 12:35–36. In the immediate context, Jesus has just foretold His “lifting up” or crucifixion. The crowd cannot imagine a Messiah who would die. They insist that the Messiah will remain forever. As for Jesus, they ask, “Who is this Son of Man?”

Jesus tells them that they have the light among them for a little while longer. They ought to do their walking while they have the light so that the darkness does not overtake them. His word for overtake is the same word used for comprehend in John 1:5. He warns them that anyone who walks in the darkness does not know where he is going. While they have the light, they should believe in the light so that they can become sons of light. To be overtaken by darkness here is to lose the ability to find one’s way.

These passages cluster ideas around light and darkness. Associated with light are the concepts of life, truth, and understanding. The light is something (someone) to trust. Associated with darkness are the concepts of evil, obfuscation, and condemnation. Such things must be shunned.

John calls the Word the light of humankind (1:4). This label must mean that He is the one who brings life, truth, and understanding to humans. When such light shines, darkness can do nothing to contain or obscure it (1:5). Light illuminates darkness, but darkness cannot extinguish light.

John the apostle then takes a brief detour to talk about the other John, John the Baptist (1:6–8). The Baptist’s role was to bear witness to the light. He was not the light, but he pointed people toward the light. His purpose was to introduce the one who is the light so that people could believe on Him.

But the Word—the Son—Jesus Christ—He was the light. He is the one who came into the world. In doing so, He enlightened every human being. But what does that mean?

The apostle is emphasizing the unique role that God the Son plays in securing our salvation. From one perspective, God is one. There are not and never could be multiple Gods. Because God is one, then the whole Godhead must be involved in every work of God. The label for this mutual involvement of all three persons is “inseparable operations.”

But because God is three persons, each person appropriates certain functions with which He is most clearly associated. The Father is most associated with creation (though the Son and Spirit were involved). The Son is most associated with redemption (though the Father and the Spirit were involved). The Spirit is most associated with sanctification (though the Father and the Son are involved). These “divine appropriations” are one aspect of the classical doctrine of the Trinity, and John seems to be thinking in these categories.

The Son—the Word—had a special role to play in securing our redemption. This is not to deny that the Father and the Spirit were also active. It is to note that the Son is the one who was “lifted up.” He is the one who died according to His human nature. He is the one whose blood purchased forgiveness. There is no salvation outside of Him.

The Son’s mission was to save humans. No human could ever be saved apart from the work of the Son. Since the cross, no human can be saved without the knowledge of that cross-work. The presentation of the gospel is never less than the message of the crucified and risen Christ. No one can be saved in any other way.

That, I think, is what John means when he says that the light enlightens all humans. He has made it possible for God to offer salvation to everyone. Whoever believes on Him will never die but will receive everlasting life. Everyone who does not believe on Him is already under condemnation.

Jesus is the light of the world. Jesus is also the Word. The Word has life in Himself, and that life is the light of humankind. Salvation is offered to all people through Jesus. Salvation can only be received by trusting Jesus. This is the main theme of John’s gospel, and John introduces it within the first few verses.

O Christ, Our True and Only Light

Johann Heermann (1585–1647); tr. Catherine Winkworth (1827–1878)

O Christ, our true and only Light,
Illumine those who sit in night;
Let those afar now hear Thy voice,
And in Thy fold with us rejoice.

Fill with the radiance of Thy grace
The souls now lost in error’s maze,
And all whom in their secret minds
Some dark delusion hurts and blinds.

Shine on the darken’d and the cold,
Recall the wand’rers from Thy fold,
Unite those now who walk apart,
Confirm the weak and doubting heart.

So they with us may evermore
Such grace with wondering thanks adore,
And endless praise to Thee be given
By all Thy Church in earth and heaven.

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