Theology Central

Early this week, Jerry Tetreau, longtime president and chancellor of International Baptist College in Chandler, Arizona, entered his eternal rest. I had the joy of serving under and with him at IBC for four years; my wife was there for five, most of which as Dr. Tetreau’s secretary. It is a joy for us to be able to devote this edition of In the Nick of Time to honor his life and ministry.

Although Dr. Tetreau’s family had been posting updates about his health and hospitalization on social media, neither my wife nor I really expected to hear Monday’s news. Not only did Dr. Tetreau’s condition seem to be improving, but it seemed impossible that a man who had led annual hikes down and back out of the Grand Canyon—in his 70s!—would ever slow down, much less be stopped. Dr. Tetreau defied any normal model of aging. I suppose that I expected him to be out-hiking college kids forever.

Everyone on campus called him Dr. T. He shaped us all by his words, but perhaps more so by his deeds. As is true of many of his generation, he was committed to the virtue of thrift and sought to inculcate that virtue into others. He abhorred the thought of ordering anything other than water to drink at restaurants. His shirt pocket often contained a list of the produce on sale at each of the area supermarkets, so that he might catch each store’s sale items every week.

His frugality was not to enrich himself. If you were invited to his home for a meal, he was going to use his full pantry to make sure that you could not possibly leave hungry. Alicia tells me that in his travels for the college, he often paid many of his own expenses. His thrift genuinely was a virtue. It was not pursued for his own profit, but as a tool to enable him to bless others.

In so many ways, Dr. Tetreau was a model of moral virtue. But he would be deeply upset, and rightly so, if that were the main thing that anyone remembered about him. It was impossible to spend any time with Dr. Tetreau without seeing his devotion to his God and the Word of his God.

He admonished us all, students and faculty alike, to meditate on the Word and I do not believe I have known anyone who did so like he did. Kevin DeYoung wrote that Psalm 119 is a love letter to the Bible and asks his readers whether they could, in full conscience, say that they loved the Word the way the psalmist writes. This is a penetrating question.

I believe that Jerry Tetreau could have recited Psalm 119 with undiluted honesty: “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! …Your testimonies are my heritage forever, for they are the joy of my heart” (vv. 103, 111). You knew that Dr. Tetreau found God’s words sweet, because he kept them in his mouth all the time. He loved to tell you about what he had just read in his devotions. A verse would strike him and he would continue to speak about it for months, turning it over and over in his mind and making it a theme of his conversation, teaching, and preaching.

I have no doubt that Dr. Tetreau loved all the Bible, but his heart was in the wisdom books. It is no wonder, then, that Dr. Tetreau became himself a fountain of wisdom. I had the privilege of traveling with him to an education convention one year. The highlight was not the convention, but the time to converse with Dr. Tetreau. The trip occurred the month before I proposed to Alicia, at a junction of my life in which I was facing several major decisions. To receive counsel at that time from a saint so thoroughly immersed in the wisdom of God is a privilege for which I will continually thank God.

It is difficult for me, even now looking back, to explain how Dr. Tetreau brought his influence to bear on the institutions he served for so long. Dr. Tetreau was not a natural leader, and I intend the word natural to be read in the Pauline sense. A natural leader sways people by force of overwhelming personality or charisma, by imposition of his will or subtle politicking. Dr. Tetreau did none of those things. He shaped International Baptist College for nearly three decades, but as a Spiritual rather than natural leader. His leadership was not domineering. He was never a bully, even in an era that often rewarded such tactics in church leaders.

That inexplicable leadership is a mark of the Spirit. I’m reminded of Paul’s words to the Corinthians: “And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God” (1 Cor 2:1-5).

The Word of God was always in Dr. Tetreau’s mouth. And he lived and led in such a way as to draw our gaze, not to him, but to his God, so that our faith would not rest in the wisdom of men. The author of Hebrews admonishes us, “Let us therefore strive to enter that rest” (Heb 4:11). Dr. Tetreau, a man of countless hikes, has reached the end of his earthly pilgrimage. He has labored faithfully, has entered the joy of his Master, and enjoys that rest.

This essay is by Michael P. Riley, pastor of Calvary Baptist Church of Wakefield, Michigan. Since 2011, he has served Central Seminary as managing editor of In the Nick of Time. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

Psalm 119:89–97

The Psalter, 1912

Forever settled in the heavens,
Thy Word, O Lord, shall firmly stand;
Thy faithfulness shall never fail;
The earth abides at thy command.

Thy word and works unmoved remain,
Thine every purpose to fulfill;
All things are thine and thee obey,
And all as servants wait thy will.

I should have perished in my woe
Had not I loved thy law divine;
That law I never can forget;
O save me, Lord, for I am thine.

The wicked would destroy my soul,
But in thy truth is refuge sure;
Exceeding broad is thy command,
And in perfection shall endure.

[This essay was originally published on January 18, 2013.]

Christians often make mistakes in the way that they think about temptation. On the one hand, they sometimes see any temptation as an evil in itself, as if to be tempted were already to commit the sin. On the other hand, they can think that temptation is merely the initial inducement to sin (or to sin again), which terminates with the sinning. In reality, initial temptations are less insidious than some suppose, while the later stages of temptation are far more sinister than many realize. Temptation occurs in a series of stages, each of which involves a growing element of implicatedness in the sin toward which one is being tempted. In the following paragraphs, I will summarize the stages of temptation, explaining how each stage brings one more deeply under the domination of the object of temptation.

The first stage of temptation is inclination. At this stage, an individual encounters the object of temptation and is somehow attracted toward it. Neither the object nor the attraction necessarily involves sin in itself. A person simply experiences a desire that cannot rightly be fulfilled under the circumstances. This most rudimentary form of temptation can even be glimpsed in the first temptation of Jesus: He was hungry, and He was tempted to create bread. The desire for food was not wrong, but it could not be fulfilled legitimately under the circumstances. When temptation is dealt with at this stage, no sin is committed.

If inclination is not resisted and dismissed, however, it leads to consideration. In this stage, an individual becomes preoccupied with the object of temptation. It is held before the mind’s eye as an object of fascination or even of obsession. Rather than fleeing from the temptation, the person is now beginning to embrace it. This is the stage at which temptation begins to involve some element of sin, because our minds do not have to dwell upon the object of temptation. Indeed, rightly handled, temptation can become a signal to shift our thoughts to specific objects that are worthy of our consideration.

Unless it is interrupted, consideration will lead to permission. At some point, an individual decides that the object of temptation is worth embracing. The overt act has not yet occurred—indeed, it may never occur, for the individual may never encounter an occasion to follow through on the decision. Nevertheless, by ceding permission to the temptation, the individual is inwardly agreeing to commit the deed whenever it becomes possible. Often, some less obvious act may become a substitute for the full and obvious sin. As Jesus pointed out, character assassination is murder, lust is adultery, and loophole language is perjury. Once the decision is made, an individual is already implicated in the sin.

Naturally, permission is often followed by participation. This is the overt commission of the sin (or omission of the duty), no longer merely as a matter considered in the heart, but as a willful deed. Even for sins of attitude some transition takes place between consideration and participation. Some point exists at which an individual stops struggling against the forbidden attitude and indulges in it. Very often, participation represents a turning point in one’s relationship to the sin. Once one has indulged in deliberate commission, the will is weakened and repeated instances of the sin become easier. Additional indulgence in the sin is likely to follow.

As indulgence continues, temptation moves to the level of habituation. As John Donne noted, inconstancy begets a constant habit. Each indulgence in the sin weakens the will, leading to further indulgence. Eventually, the sin becomes a regular part of life. As the sinner grows accustomed to the sin, it begins to seem normal. It becomes part of the sinner’s environment. It becomes so transparent that it operates as a lens through which the sinner interprets reality. At this point, the individual is not merely a sinner, but a slave. The sin holds the sinner under bondage and begins to color everything.

The last and worst stage occurs when temptation turns into identification. The sin becomes so much a part of life that it begins to shape the sinner’s identity. Sinners reach a point at which they begin to understand their selfhood in terms of their relationship to the object of temptation. It becomes part of them. They can no longer imagine living without the sin. If they lost it, they would no longer know who they were. The sin does not merely characterize their outer conduct, but even their inner frame of reference. At this point, trying to divest one’s self of the sin feels very much like trying to kill one’s self, for the sin has become part of one’s identity.

One other stage may occur, though it occupies no particular place in the order of temptation. It is the step of legitimation. A person who legitimates a sin no longer sees it as a sin, but has found a way to justify it. This stage does not always occur. Many sinners know and acknowledge that they are sinning, even when they have progressed through the stage of identification. Still, some do attempt to vindicate themselves by finding a way to redefine the sin so that it is no longer sinful (at least in their own thinking).

Every temptation must be dealt with at the earliest possible stage. To wait for later stages is to multiply exponentially the difficulty of resisting the sin. It is also to involve one’s self increasingly with the sin itself. The first stage—inclination—brings with it no necessary guilt, but each of the succeeding stages involves growing participation in the sin. At no level is a sinner beyond the ability of God’s grace to deliver, but to presume upon deliverance at some later stage is to put God to the test in the way that Jesus refused to do. Consequently, every Christian must seek God’s grace early and employ those means that God has ordained for securing sanctification in the face of temptation.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

Father, in Thy Mysterious Presence

Samuel Johnson (1822-1882)

Father, in Thy mysterious presence kneeling,
Fain would our souls feel all Thy kindling love;
For we are weak, and need some deep revealing
Of Trust and Strength and Calmness from above.

Lord, we have wandered forth through doubt and sorrow,
And Thou hast made each step an onward one;
And we will ever trust each unknown morrow,—
Thou wilt sustain us till its work is done.

In the heart’s depths a peace serene and holy
Abides, and when pain seems to have her will,
Or we despair,—O, may that peace rise slowly,
Stronger than agony, and we be still!

Now, Father, now, in Thy dear presence kneeling,
Our spirits yearn to feel Thy kindling love;
Now make us strong, we need Thy deep revealing
Of Trust and Strength and Calmness from above.

At the end of 1990 I left the church that I had pastored for six years and moved my family to Dallas so I could pursue doctoral studies. I had no source of income, no friends in Texas, and no family nearby. After a few weeks I found a job in a factory. Even though we lived quite frugally, my pay did not cover our expenses. As our savings dwindled I looked for every opportunity to pick up overtime or extra shifts, sometimes working sixty hours or more during the week. In moments of financial stress I was forced to sell prized possessions. I worked third shift and went to class in the mornings, so I was tired all the time. We had trouble finding a church with an expository pulpit; after almost a year of looking we settled for one that was weakly biblical. As we approached Thanksgiving Day of 1991 we were still largely on our own; we had no friends or family nearby with whom to share the day.

Our circumstances were difficult, but we had few or no distractions on Thanksgiving day. We did not even have a television. We just had each other. We spent time playing games with our children. We lacked funds for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, but Mrs. Bauder fried a chicken and it seemed like a feast. The central event of the day was taking time to enumerate what we were thankful for.

Mrs. Bauder and I were still growing in love (we still are), and happy to have each other. Our children were a delight to us. I had recently gained recognition at work, leading to a cash prize that helped to provide the Thanksgiving meal. Our extended families, while distant from us, were a source of encouragement. We had an adequate home to live in. My education was moving ahead; in fact, a significant obstacle had recently been eliminated. We were getting acquainted with our neighbors—Mexican immigrants on one side, African-Americans on the other, and Anglo senior citizens across the street—and found them all to be kind and generous people. We had begun to get used to Texas weather, habits, and speech. We had never missed a meal or failed to pay a bill on time. Our needs were met, and if we had nothing to spare, we also owed nothing to anyone.

Most of all, we knew and felt that everything in our lives, the good and the bad, had come from the hand of a loving, wise, and sovereign God. In many ways the past year had been the most difficult in our lives together. We recognized, however, that God was disposing of us according to His will, and that His dispositions would ultimately prove very good. We had always known this, but now the truth of it was like a keen breeze on a hot day. We had less (at least materially) than ever before, but we were more grateful for the little that we had.

That Thanksgiving became one of the high-water marks in our family’s story. It stands out in memory as the best and most meaningful that we have ever enjoyed. On every other Thanksgiving we have had more, yet neither before nor since have we felt so profoundly grateful as we did that day. I have often asked myself what made that Thanksgiving so remarkable.

One important answer is that our attention was more focused on our blessings. Why? For one thing, we had felt want, and felt it acutely. For us, passing through hardship and necessity highlighted by contrast the sufficiency of the blessings that we had received. Because we had received less, we appreciated the little that we were given more. It was enough! We understood at an experiential level that simply having enough was really a rich blessing from God. He was taking care of us.

Furthermore, that Thanksgiving was remarkably free from distractions. We didn’t plan to go anywhere because we couldn’t afford to. We couldn’t entertain anyone because no family or friends were nearby. Mrs. Bauder didn’t labor over a huge dinner because a simple fried chicken was a treat to us. Since we owned no television we watched no programming, and we did not miss it. We took time to pay attention to each other, to play with our children, and to enjoy the process of taking up and examining the blessings that God had provided. With fewer distractions we had more freedom to focus both on God’s gifts and on Him as the giver.

Gratitude is not a function of how much we have been given. It is a function of how much we pay attention not only to God’s gifts but especially to Him as One who gives graciously, kindly, and wisely. We do not become thankful because we receive, but because we acknowledge having received.

For many, 2020 has been a year of loss. We might easily become preoccupied with what we do not have. Instead, let us recognize that we have been subject to the dispositions of a generous, kind, loving, wise, and almighty God. While we may mourn our losses, we must also recognize the sufficiency of the blessings that we have received. These blessings flow from the hand of our heavenly Father. The sorrows are real enough, but so is the generosity and goodness of the One who, watching over us, neither slumbers nor sleeps. Let us at least take a day to free ourselves of distractions, to acknowledge what we have received, and to give thanks to God.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

O Lord of Heav’n and Earth and Sea

Christopher Wordsworth (1807–1885)

O Lord of heav’n and earth and sea,
to Thee all praise and glory be;
how shall we show our love to Thee,
who givest all?

The golden sunshine, vernal air,
sweet flow’rs and fruits Thy love declare,
when harvests ripen, Thou art there,
who givest all.

For peaceful homes and healthful days,
for all the blessings earth displays,
we owe Thee thankfulness and praise,
who givest all.

Thou didst not spare Thine only Son,
but gav’st Him for a world undone,
and freely with that blessed One,
Thou givest all.

Thou giv’st the Holy Spirit’s dow’r,
Spirit of life and love and pow’r,
and dost His sev’nfold graces show’r
upon us all.

For souls redeemed, for sins forgiv’n,
for means of grace and hopes of heav’n,
Father, what can to Thee be giv’n,
who givest all?

Higher education is becoming more difficult, even among secular schools. Among Christian colleges, universities, and seminaries the challenges are even greater. Ongoing anxiety over COVID-19 multiplies these difficulties, and Central Baptist Theological Seminary has had to face them like every other school.

Surprisingly, God has chosen this moment to expand Central Seminary’s ministry around the world. On the one hand, we still have local students who move to Minnesota to attend seminary. For example, last year John Marshall joined us. John has his undergraduate and master’s degrees in Classics from the Catholic University of America. He wanted to train for the pastorate, so he moved from Washington, D.C. to Minneapolis. This year he was joined by his father Brent who just retired from his position as a lawyer with the Justice Department. Now the entire Marshall family is living in Crystal. Brent’s wife Lyn volunteers in our library.

On the other hand, more and more of our students live far from the seminary. In one of my theology classes I don’t have a single student in Minneapolis, but I am teaching students on three continents. If you were to visit our campus, you would see fewer students, but in fact we have more. It’s just that more of them join us from remote locations.

Several years ago Central Seminary began a transition toward in-person distance education. Distance students from many locations join together with on-campus students from Minnesota. They meet in electronic classrooms where the discussion flows as freely as if everyone were sitting in the same room. Pastors in Zambia and the Pacific Islands connect with others in Brazil and Bolivia. Church leaders in Romania and Ukraine pray and learn with students in New York City, Kansas, and (of course) Minnesota.

Our move to distance education has rescued us from COVID-19. Because we were already committed to on-line learning, we could make a seamless transition when Minnesota’s governor clamped restrictions on the number of people who could meet in person. While other schools struggled to meet new challenges, we hardly noticed a difference. Our enrollment has remained steady and has even increased. The ministry of WCTS radio has also expanded with a new FM translator in Plymouth, Minnesota.

Our donors have also remained faithful, in spite of limited public opportunities to give. When we had to cancel our annual “Friends and Family” banquet, the seminary’s friends still responded generously. We are excited to see the ministry of Central Baptist Theological Seminary moving forward during difficult days. Together, we are reaching the world with the gospel.

One opportunity that we have not lost is the annual “Give to the Max” day. Central Seminary has participated in Give to the Max since it was started over ten years ago. The day was originated by GiveMN, an organization that coordinates giving for Minnesota non-profits. Over the years, some of Central Seminary’s most generous donors have taken a special interest in Give to the Max.

This year a donor has offered a $50,000 matching gift. In other words, this donor will match every dollar given (to either Central Seminary or WCTS radio) up to a total of $50,000. Every dollar that you give will turn into two dollars. Together we can turn $50,000 into $100,000. That’s what it takes to keep training church leaders in Europe, Africa, North and South America, and other places.

You can give today by visiting the seminary’s website at www.centralseminary.edu/give or www.wctsradio.com. You can call the seminary between 8AM and 3PM (Central time) at (763) 417-8250. You can mail a gift to Central Baptist Theological Seminary at 900 Forestview Lane North, Plymouth, Minnesota 55441. All gifts given before November 19 will count toward the $50,000 matching donation.

College and university students often graduate with heavy debt—sometimes into six figures. If seminary students had to pay for the full price of their education, they too would owe more than they could pay. Debt would cripple their usefulness. They would not be free to give themselves to ministry for years. Because of donors like you, however, our students pay only a fraction of the cost of their education. When they graduate, they are free to throw themselves into the work to which God has called them.

Central Baptist Theological Seminary sends out In the Nick of Time free of charge. We don’t sell your name to advertisers. We don’t spam you with ads. Only once each year do we let you know about this unique opportunity to Give to the Max. Would you consider supporting Central Baptist Theological Seminary with your donation—a donation that will be doubled as soon as you give it—a donation that will help to prepare Christian leaders around the world? Would you please Give to the Max? I am going to.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

Thou, Whose Almighty Word

John Marriott (1780–1825)

Thou, Whose Almighty word
Chaos and darkness heard,
And took their flight,
Hear us, we humbly pray;
And, where the Gospel day
Sheds not its glorious ray,
Let there be light!

Thou Who didst come to bring
On Thy redeeming wing
Healing and sight,
Health to the sick in mind,
Sight to the inly blind,
O now, to all mankind
Let there be light!

Spirit of truth and love,
Life-giving, holy Dove,
Speed forth Thy flight!
Move on the waters’ face,
Bearing the lamp of grace,
And, in earth’s darkest place,
Let there be light!

Holy and Blessèd Three,
Glorious Trinity,
Wisdom, Love, Might;
Boundless as ocean’s tide,
Rolling in fullest pride
Through the world, far and wide,
Let there be light!

As I write this essay, the 2020 presidential election is still undecided. After two days of counting, some states are still not certain which candidate won—and until those counts are complete, their votes in the electoral college are hanging in the balance. Neither candidate presently has enough to win the presidency.

The state of Minnesota has endured more than seven months of restrictions related to COVID-19. My church canceled its prayer meeting last evening because the virus was confirmed within the congregation. At work I wear a mask whenever I step out of my office. I’m also a chaplain in the Civil Air Patrol, where masks have become mandatory for all meetings and activities.

My daughter and son-in-law live in Toronto. The border has now been closed for months. My wife and I have not been able to visit them face-to-face all year, and that situation doesn’t look like it’s going to change any time soon. I’ve been told that Canada will allow Americans to visit immediate family, but only if they can guarantee a stay of fifteen days or more. That’s out of the question for us.

A beloved friend appears to be spinning out of control in his spiritual life. He is engaging in the very kind of destructive behavior against which he has warned others. I’ve tried to remain his friend because a friend loves at all times. Still, his choices are making our relationship increasingly difficult.

Churches that I care about are suffering. Some of them don’t know how to respond to COVID-related governmental mandates. Others have shrunk to the point that they can no longer support a pastor. Some have become divided and are threatening to split or close. Unlike Paul, I am not charged with the care of the churches, but I still care about these churches. It pains me to see them drifting, divided, or declining.

In none of the above am I unique.

Many others are presently facing these same kinds of pressures. Some are enduring much worse. Some have endured severe personal illness—or have watched their loved ones go through it. Some have suffered bereavements. Some are struggling in their callings. Some have faced betrayals and abandonments. Compared to what these people are enduring, my little afflictions pale to petty annoyances.

Nor are these pressures unique to our age. I’ve just finished reading Augustine’s City of God, written at a time of invasion when Christian women were asking whether it was better to commit suicide than to endure rape. I have never (yet) had to face grinding poverty, a totalitarian government, the depredations of war, or the humiliation of imprisonment. Compared to most people through most of the world’s history, my life has been one of unimaginable peace and prosperity.

Nevertheless, the stresses of the present are real. They are also widely shared. Perhaps you feel them yourself. If so, then the question for us is how we should face these perplexities.

May I suggest that the first answer is prayer? Perhaps this answer is too obvious to have to state, but God expects us to pray. God responds to prayer. Prayer was a regular feature of Jesus’ ministry. It was also prominent in the lives of the apostles, especially Paul. We should be bringing up our concerns in our regular prayer (proseuche). These concerns should also be spilling over into our desperation prayer (deēsis). We should pray for our situations and for ourselves. We should also pray for each other. I’m not too proud to say it: I wish you would pray for me.

The second answer is to revisit our duties. When stresses increase, they tend to distract us from the things that matter most. We need regularly to return to the question, “What are my duties?” If I wish to be a good Christian, a good husband, a good father, a good minister, and a good professor, then I become responsible for an entire list of obligations. I dare not allow myself to be drawn away from these matters by concerns that may be immediate but are really secondary—if I can do anything about them at all. I must make sure that the most important concerns get addressed.

The third answer is that we should take heart. In fact, we should be brimming over with hope. Our hope has sure foundations. It is grounded in the Providence of God, who works all things according to the counsel of His will and who causes all things to work together for good for us. Our hope is also grounded in the fact that God has given us permission to cast all our cares upon Him, for He cares for us. There is no point worrying and wasting emotional energy on matters that are completely beyond my control but that God has well in hand.

The fourth answer is that we need to encourage one another. Discouragement leads to despondency, and despondency to despair. To despair is to say that we are beyond God’s reach—and that is neither right nor true. We need to remind each other that God is still working in our lives. We need to assure each other that none of us stands alone. We need to bear one another’s burdens, and we also need to hold one another to account. Each of us should stop worrying about where we will find encouragement; on the contrary, each of us should commit himself to becoming a font of encouragement to others. Nothing is more encouraging than to be used to encourage someone else.

In sum, when we are faced with hardship, we must show patience. Endurance is the name of the game. James says that a farmer plants a field, but he must then wait for the crop. While he is waiting he may feel as if little useful is happening, but the crop is growing. Our job is to endure, i.e., to keep doing what we need to be doing, unto the coming of the Lord. His return is drawing nearer. It is approaching one day at a time, and we must persevere one day at a time. Whoever is elected president. Whether or not we can hold prayer meeting. Even if we must wear masks. Or miss family. Or watch friends disintegrate and ministries decline. Prayer. Duty. Hope. Courage. Patience. Today. Tomorrow. Until Jesus comes.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

Hallelujah! Who Shall Part?

William Dickinson (?–1889)

Hallelujah! Who shall part
Christ’s own church from Christ’s own heart?
Sever from the Savior’s side
Souls for whom the Savior died?
Dash one precious jewel down
From Immanuel’s blood-bought crown?

Hallelujah! Shall the sword
Part us from our glorious Lord?
Trouble dark or dire disgrace
E’er the Spirit’s seal efface?
Famine, nakedness, or hate,
Bridge and Bridegroom separate?

Hallelujah! Life nor death,
Powers above nor powers beneath,
Monarch’s might, nor tyrant’s doom,
Things that are, nor things to come,
Men nor angels, e’er shall part
Christ’s own church from Christ’s own heart.

For me, learning to read was like being initiated into the mysteries of a secret society. The ability to look at marks on a page and to register those marks in my brain as words, sentences, ideas, and stories—well, it seemed magical. It still does.

People who did not enjoy reading perplexed me. Later I learned that what came naturally and enjoyably to me was an opaque labor to others. Still, I naively assumed that those who worked with ideas must be readers. After all, how else could one communicate either a lengthy narrative or a sustained argument?

I gave pastors a high place among those who did the work of the mind. Perhaps this perspective came from watching my father study through Bible college. I still have vivid memories of him sitting at his desk with open books around him.

At any rate, it came as a shock to discover that most pastors read very little. Reasons for this deficiency probably vary from person to person. Some pastors are more gifted with personal skills. Others are more suited to bustle and activity than to careful thought. Nevertheless, the primary calling of every pastor is to do the work of the mind. If nothing else, preaching is a challenging intellectual activity, at least if a pastor intends to say something worth listening to. Not every pastor needs to be a scholar, but even very ordinary pastors need to be readers.

Becoming well read does not usually happen by accident. Those who read only what they feel like reading, and only when they feel like reading it, will gain only minimal and lopsided exposure to the world of ideas. A balanced reading program must be planned.

How much should a pastor read? Some complete only a volume or two of light reading in a year; others read as much as a book every day. To become reasonably well read, a pastor ought to aim to read just about a book every week. Any more and other areas of ministry may suffer (unless he is remarkably gifted). Any less and his mind will begin to suffer.

Of course, books differ in length. Some can be completed in fewer than 100 pages, while others will run well over 1,000. An average book, however, is approximately 250 pages. Consequently, pastors should aim to average about 250 pages per week—50 pages for each weekday. For most pastors reading most books, that task will take no more than an hour each day.

Some reading has to be done over the long haul. Most pastors will not sit down and read straight through a Bible version, a systematic theology, or a technical commentary. These are projects that must be stretched out. Just two chapters of Scripture each day will get a reader through the Bible in about a year and a half. Commentaries can be read a week at a time in connection with sermon preparation—assuming that the pastor is an expository preacher who works through entire books of the Bible. For theology, Ernest Pickering used to recommend that pastors read 50 pages of systematic theology every week. That amounts to only 10 pages every weekday. At that rate a pastor can work through a fairly substantial systematic theology every few months.

To these sustained reading projects, pastors should add books that cover a variety of subjects. Naturally, they have a professional interest in books that deal with biblical issues. Besides commentaries they should be reading works on biblical introduction, history, backgrounds, and hermeneutics. Alongside these, pastors should read theological works that deal with more specialized questions: hamartiology, for example, or dispensationalism and covenant theology. They should also read volumes on topics in pastoral theology such as church administration, homiletics, and counseling.

Closely related to biblical and theological studies are two other disciplines: philosophy and history. Philosophical works, including books on logic, ethics, political theory, and aesthetic criticism, should be part of a pastor’s reading rotation. So should historical (including biographical) works that cover every period.

For the good of his soul, a pastor should regularly read devotional works. These should include both classical works of devotion (Augustine’s Enchiridion, for example, or Edwards’s Religious Affections) as well as more contemporary works. Naturally, even devotional works should be read critically. Only one book is inspired, inerrant, and completely authoritative; all others need to be evaluated.

Two other categories deserve to be included. One is science. Although a pastor’s work is more related to the humanities than it is to the sciences, he ought not to be scientifically illiterate. The other is belles lettres including works of literary fiction, poetry, and drama. These works of imagination are both enjoyable and worthy of study. Furthermore, they can teach a pastor how to appeal more effectively to the moral imaginations of his congregants.

Most people complete a certain amount of junk reading, designed to turn the mind off rather than to stimulate it. A pastor might read murder mysteries, political thrillers, or romances without necessarily doing himself harm, but he should not count these toward his reading goals. Instead, he should discipline himself to read through the above categories, more-or-less in rotation: biblical studies, philosophy, theological works, history, pastoral theology, science, devotion, belles lettres. Then every now and then he should throw in something completely different just to break up the rotation and expand his thinking.

I have tried to follow a rotation like this for the past 40 years, both as a pastor and as a professor (though as a professor I must read more than a book each week). Furthermore, I keep a log of my reading by title, page count, and category. The discipline of logging my reading helps me to stay accountable. It also gives me a quick way to see whether my reading is becoming imbalanced in any direction. Because I teach theology, of course I must read more in that discipline. Still, I don’t want to neglect the others.

Consulting my log, I can see that the past ten books I have read include two belletristic works, one of which is also a work in Eastern religion and the other an exemplification of Medieval Catholicism. My list also includes a short volume on recent American history, a substantial work on biblical theology, a book dealing with the effects of psychedelic drugs, a book of political theory, a volume in theology proper, a short dogmatic theology, a volume of ancient history that overlaps with Old Testament backgrounds, and a work of ancient philosophy. While this list includes no devotional literature, I did spend a good bit of the summer reading devotional works. If there is a deficiency it is in pastoral theology, though at my stage in life that doesn’t seem as useful as it once was.

So if you’re a pastor, try this. Develop a plan that works for you—it doesn’t have to be mine. But for the good of your mind, your soul, and your congregants, read, and read widely.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

I Send the Joys of Earth Away

Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

I send the joys of earth away;
Away, ye tempters of the mind,
False as the smooth, deceitful sea,
And empty as the whistling wind.

Your streams were floating me along
Down the gulf of dark despair,
And whilst I listen’d to your song,
Your streams had e’en conveyed me there.

Lord, I adore Thy matchless grace,
That warn’d me of that dark abyss,
That drew me from those treacherous seas,
And bade me seek superior bliss.

There, from the bosom of my God,
Oceans of endless pleasure roll;
There would I fix my last abode,
And drown the sorrows of my soul.

Pastors work with people, so they need personal skills. Pastors work with churches as organizations, so they need administrative skills. More than anything else, however, pastors work with ideas. They do the work of the mind. At minimum, they seek to grasp the meaning of God’s Word and to communicate it to their people, applying it carefully to the issues of the day. Consequently, they need both information and intellectual skill.

That skill comes largely through reading. No amount of listening to podcasts or watching videos on YouTube will take the place of reading. If you are a pastor, reading is what will give you something to say.

Of course, you will do a certain amount of reading as you prepare for preaching. You will read your text; in fact, you will translate it. You will read the principal grammars that address issues within your text. You will read commentaries that explore your text (preferably after you have already drawn your own tentative conclusions).

Besides all that, you will be reading the Bible straight through. Maybe you won’t read it through every year, but you will read through the Bible regularly. Over time, you will read through all the principal translations (I’m presently reading through the NET Bible).

If a pastor is going to know how to apply the Bible’s teaching to the questions of the day, he needs to know what those questions are. He needs to know what events are affecting the spiritual, intellectual, and moral environment of the people to whom he preaches. He needs to know how those events are being perceived by the communities in which his church members live.

Probably the worst place to gain that information is through standard news reportage, whether in print, broadcast, or internet. The press has exactly two jobs: (1) get the facts, and (2) tell the truth. It consistently fails in both departments. The problem is not that the news outlets are biased or incompetent; the problem is that they pretend they aren’t. Because their bias is hidden, it is poisonous.

The better alternative is to seek news coverage from outlets that admit their bias up front. In other words, the journals of opinion will do far more to help a pastor understand both the events and how they are being perceived than any putatively objective news source. The key is to read journals that speak from a variety of perspectives. Happily, almost all of them are available online, and in most cases you can access them for free.

Because liberalism keeps changing, knowing the liberal perspective from week to week can prove daunting. The journals on the Left will help you track its current manifestations. The New Republic has taken a liberal slant for generations, as has the Nation (though years ago it had a conservative editor). Mother Jones is a newer journal on the Left, and Slate is newer still. A radically secular and anti-religious variety of liberalism appears in the Humanist. The perspective of mainline, liberal “Christianity” can be found in the Christian Century. You can read a fair representation of the Evangelical Left in Sojourners.

On the conservative side of the spectrum, National Review is the granddaddy publication. Founded by William F. Buckley, Jr., it has been the conservative flagship for over six decades. As might be expected, it represents a generally paleo-conservative perspective. For a more neo-conservative point of view with a religious flavor, First Things is the place to go. Other periodicals like the American Conservative and the American Spectator are more populist in their approach, but still register on the conservative side of the spectrum (though the American Spectator is closer to the edge). Unfortunately, evangelical conservatives do not publish a responsible journal of opinion—the kind of thing that Christianity Today was founded to be but hasn’t actually been for decades. In the absence of something strictly evangelical, an acceptable alternative is probably Touchstone, which is published by a team of “mere Christians” who are evangelical, Orthodox, and Catholic.

A journal that does not neatly fit any mold is the New Criterion, which gives significant coverage to arts, letters, and serious cultural trends. It does not aim to be strictly conservative. If anything, it represents an antique version of liberalism. Its editors, however, still hold a commitment to meaning, beauty, and (strangest of all) to norms. Consequently, it often seems conservative by comparison. It’s worth reading, and it has become my go-to journal for cultural discussion since Harpers and Atlantic have gone down as ideological shills.

What should you look for in these journals? The short answer is, whatever interests either you or the people to whom you minister. Certainly you should scan the reviews of books and movies: you would never watch Cuties, for example, but you’d better know what it represents. You should also skim the headlines of the feature articles. You can concentrate on articles discussing trends that will affect churches, ministries, and families. Ignorance of these things is not a virtue.

When I was a pastor I would try to spend two to three hours every week checking these and similar publications. In those days I had to drive to the public library to do this reading. Now I can do the same job directly from my computer.

These sources won’t give you the late-breaking news, but they will help you follow the major stories. Each one will also give you a unique perspective on the events that it covers. Knowing those perspectives can be useful to a pastor, even when they are wrong. A couple of hours every week spent glancing through these periodicals is a worthwhile investment in knowing what you’re talking about.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

Come to the Ark

Christian Hymn Book, 1841

Come to the ark, come to the ark;
To Jesus come away:
The pestilence walks forth by night,
The arrows fly by day.

Come to the ark: the waters rise,
The seas their billows rear;
While darkness gathers o’er the skies,
Behold a refuge near!

Come to the ark, all, all that weep
Beneath the sense of sin:
Without, deep calleth unto deep,
But all is peace within.

Come to the ark, ere yet the flood
Your lingering steps oppose;
Come, for the door which open stood
Is now about to close.

The Sixth Commandment forbids murder. This commandment is one of God’s moral laws, grounded in His nature, and articulated across the dispensations. The first murderer, Cain, faced God’s judgment for his crime (Gen 4:8–12). After the Flood, God pronounced capital punishment to be the penalty for murder (Gen 9:5–6). Jesus expounded the Sixth Commandment in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt 5:21–26). The apostle John warns church saints against becoming murderers like Cain (1 John 3:12). These and many other scriptures clearly teach that murder is always and everywhere wrong.

The Lord Jesus applied the Sixth Commandment in ways that went beyond physical murder (Matt 5:21–26). According to Jesus, other violations of this commandment include unjustified anger, abusive speech, and character assassination. Jesus was pointing out that the Sixth Commandment (as well as the others) implies more than it states directly. He was also pointing out that God’s people are responsible both to work out and to live out the implications of the commandments.

One attempt at working out the implications of the Ten Commandments can be found in the Westminster Larger Catechism. The catechism devotes an entire section to duties that are required in the Sixth Commandment (Q 135). Another section (Q 136) deals with sins that this commandment forbids.

Remarkably, the catechism does not consider all homicide to be murder. On the contrary, it recognizes the possibility of taking another life lawfully as part of “public justice, lawful war, or necessary defence.” This position is not surprising: the Westminster Standards were drafted by Puritans whose New Model Army trounced the Cavaliers in the English Civil War. The same Puritans ultimately executed Charles I for treason. These men were not afraid of a fight.

Nevertheless, they were lovers of peace and temperance. The burden of their comments in the Larger Catechism is not to justify violence but to escape it. The duties that the catechism infers from the Sixth Commandment include “avoiding all occasions, temptations, and practices, which tend to the unjust taking away the life of any.” Furthermore, God requires attitudes characterized by “charitable thoughts, love, compassion, meekness, gentleness, kindness; peaceable, mild, and courteous speeches and behavior: forbearance, readiness to be reconciled, patient bearing and forgiving of injuries, and requiting good for evil.” Among the sins that the commandment forbids are “sinful anger, hatred, envy, desire of revenge . . . provoking words; oppression, quarreling, striking, wounding, and whatsoever else tends to the destruction of the life of any.”

The thrust of these teachings is that we do not have to commit a murder ourselves to become guilty of murder. Provoking a murder gives us at least a share of the guilt. Consequently, we must avoid not only murder but also those behaviors which incline people toward murder. If we wish to avoid bloodguiltiness, then we will not even go looking for trouble. To the best of our ability we will stay out of situations where we know it could arise. We will not strut, bluster, or carry a chip on our shoulder. We will not display a demanding, bellicose, or vengeful attitude. We will not degrade people in either our speech or our manner. Instead, we will model gentleness, kindness, patience, reconciliation, forgiveness, and forbearance.

If the Larger Catechism is right (and I believe it is), then these standards are implicit in God’s moral law. As such they are not merely Christian virtues to be cultivated by the most spiritual among the redeemed, but moral minimums for all human beings. A civilization that tolerates their transgression can expect natural consequences to follow. Among other results, it will pay the price of increasing brutality and anarchy.

That appears to be where American civilization stands at this moment. American civilization now glorifies exactly those behaviors and attitudes that tend toward murder. It rewards brashness, swagger, and confrontation. Its people are conditioned to respond with demonstrations instead of due process, slander instead of sober speech, and riot instead of reason. America has a civilization that has lost its moral center and is consequently faced with the choice between either uncontrolled chaos or the sheer will to power. Those whose sole concern is power are willing to use the threat of chaos as their stalking horse, temporarily fostering anarchy until tyranny begins to seem like an acceptable alternative.

So great is the pressure that people who traditionally favor order and decency—that is to say, conservatives—have begun to feel as if they must respond in kind. They have begun to resort to coarseness, caricature, abusive speech, and the argumentum ad baculum. If the Left mounts a protest, then the Right feels that it has to counter-protest. If the Left carries Molotov cocktails and bricks, then the Right shows up brandishing guns. This tactic plays right into the hands of the Left because every escalation brings the civilization one step closer to anarchy, and after anarchy comes tyranny—which by definition can never be conservative.

Perhaps that last comment requires a word of explanation. Someone might object that Naziism and Fascism produced tyrannies, did they not? Of course they did, but the difference between Communism and Fascism is not a difference between the Left and the Right. It is a difference between two versions of the Left. The operative word in National Socialism (Naziism) is socialism. All socialist schemes—indeed, all schemes for economic and social leveling or “social justice”—are by definition Leftist and by definition unjust. I repeat: no genuine conservative ever favors tyranny, even in the name of Nationalism.

Now, back to the point. Not only Christians but all people who wish to avoid the charge of murder must commit themselves to keeping the Sixth Commandment and all its implications. We who profess to be genuinely conservative (let alone Christian) have a duty both to avoid unnecessary conflict and to de-escalate unavoidable conflicts if we can. As our civilization becomes more anarchic, our duty is to stand forth as voices of reason and temperance. We must resist the temptation to demonize our opponents or to appeal to violence. We must distance ourselves from every behavior and attitude that tends to inflame violence and to incite the taking of life. Unfortunately, those behaviors and attitudes have become too common on the Right as well as the Left, in both public and private discourse, by the high and mighty as well as the low and mouthy.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

Great King of Glory and of Grace

Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Great King of glory and of grace,
We own, with humble shame,
How vile is our degen’rate race,
And our first father’s name.

From Adam flows our tainted blood,
The poison reigns within;
Makes us averse to all that’s good,
And willing slaves to sin.

Daily we break thy holy laws,
And then reject thy grace;
Engaged in the old serpent’s cause,
Against our Maker’s face.

We live estranged afar from God,
And love the distance well;
With haste we run the dangerous road
That leads to death and hell.

And can such rebels be restored?
Such natures made divine?
Let sinners see thy glory, Lord,
And feel this power of thine.

We raise our Fathers name on high
Who his own Spirit sends
To bring rebellious strangers nigh,
And turn his foes to friends.

(With apologies to Wilbur Smith, who has already used this title, and to Murray Harris, who borrowed it from him before I could)

I won’t sugar coat the news: I just turned sixty-five. I can remember when my mother’s father turned this age. He seemed ancient and used up. But then he had fought in the Great War, supported a family during the Depression, and lived through World War Two, the Korean War, and a good bit of the Johnson administration.

My earliest recollection is of being strapped down to a hospital gurney and having my stomach pumped. I was just over a year old, and apparently I had got into the aspirin. Nobody could tell how many I may have gulped. The experience was terrifying. It felt like the end of the world.

About that time my father built a small house outside Mapleton, Michigan. The water was so salty that it corroded the plumbing. Dad also built me a playhouse in the back yard, near an open field of sandy hills. I could listen to the bobwhites whistle in the scrub.

When I was three or four years old my parents trusted Christ as Savior. I was old enough to notice the change that came into our home. Some habits suddenly disappeared. New ones took their place. We began to attend church whenever it was open: typically, four services per week. Every visiting missionary or Bible teacher became a guest in our home. My parents did not simply profess faith. Their lives genuinely changed as they grew in faith and good works.

My own conversion came at seven years of age. At ten I followed the Lord in believer’s baptism. Shortly afterward I recognized consciously and deliberately the claim that Christ held over my life, and I submitted myself to serve Him in whatever way He wished.

During my first ten or eleven years we constantly had foster children in our home. Over the years I had more than twenty foster brothers and sisters, besides my own sisters and brother. Some were with us only for a few weeks; others stayed for years. Some were newborns. Others were advancing into their upper teens. Fully half were mentally “retarded” (as we called it in those days). The rest brought plenty of emotional baggage from their circumstances, but all were special. Cindy and Kelly had watched their mother murder their father. Sarah was a newborn who was with us long enough to seem like a real little sister. Ray was six or seven years older than me, strong as a bull, and acted like a big brother. Whenever one of them was taken away it felt like the end of the world.

Everybody was scared of communism and nuclear war during those days. In school we practiced hiding under our desks from nuclear attack. At church camp and in youth rallies we were regularly warned that the communists had sworn to take over America by 1972, and they were ahead of schedule. Of course, we now know that it won’t happen until 2022.

My first recollection of global events comes from November 22, 1963, when Mrs. Mullarz, our elementary principal, came into our classroom and told our teacher to turn on the radio. President Kennedy had just been shot. School was dismissed early that day and didn’t resume for a week. It felt as if a world had ended.

Over the next several years we witnessed a string of assassinations: Malcolm X (1965), Martin Luther King, Jr. (1968), and Bobby Kennedy (1968). Viet Nam began to heat up, eventually leading to anti-war protests. Those were years of civil unrest: hippies, yippies, the 1967 race riots, more riots at the 1968 Democratic National Convention, the Chicago Seven, the Kent State shootings, the University of Wisconsin bombing. In Cleveland the Cuyahoga River caught fire in 1969. Later that year Woodstock was supposed to be about peace and love, but what I remember is that somebody else had to clean up the mess—which is a bit of a metaphor for my generation. Then Woodstock was followed by Altamont. So much the worse for peace and love.

At the end of 1968 my parents left Michigan for Bible college. My father graduated in 1973, the same spring that I graduated from high school. He graduated in the top half of his class; I graduated in the bottom half of mine. Richard Nixon was the president, the nation was in the middle of an energy crisis, stagflation was running rampant, and the Watergate hearings were just beginning.

I managed to cram a four-year bachelor’s program into the next six years. I also gained experience as a factory worker, a hot asphalt roofer, a lifeguard, a warehouse laborer, and a retail salesman. During that time I met, courted, and wed a farmer’s daughter from southern Iowa. Within a year of our marriage I knew that the Lord was leading me toward vocational ministry. In June of 1979 we moved to Denver for seminary. The next four years brought my M.Div., my Th.M., and an invitation to teach in a Bible college.

That teaching experience lasted only two years, but it was when our daughter was born. I left the Bible college for a pastorate, and that is where our son was born. During that pastorate I began work on a D.Min. While finishing the D.Min., I left the pastorate to begin work on a Ph.D. Then, while working on the Ph.D., I led in planting a church near Dallas, pastoring that congregation for several years. At the beginning of 1998 I began teaching at Central Baptist Theological Seminary.

One thing I’ve learned: the end of the world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. The Asian Flu epidemic of 1957-58 was going to be the end of the world. Then it was the Cuban Missile Crisis. Perhaps it was the Civil Rights Movement, desegregation, and bussing. Or was it Viet Nam? Or global cooling? Perhaps it was the Counterculture—or maybe Watergate. No, it was the Iran hostage crisis. Or the Swine Flu. Or AIDS. Wait, it must have been Ruby Ridge. Or Waco. Or the Clinton presidency in general. Or the Oklahoma City bombing. Or global warming. On second (third? fourth?) thought, it must have been the Avian Flu. Or the West Nile Virus. Or Ebola. Or September 11. Or the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan. Or climate change.

Come to think of it, I’ve endured one end of the world after another—yet here I am. God is still governing the universe. Christ is still coming. We Christians still have a job to do. We have not been called to panic or to speak shrill words. We have been called, you and me, simply to be faithful.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

Hallelujah, Praise Jehovah

The Psalter, 1912

Hallelujah, praise Jehovah,
O my soul, Jehovah praise;
I will sing the glorious praises
Of my God through all my days.
Put no confidence in princes,
Nor for help on man depend;
He shall die, to dust returning,
And his purposes shall end.

Happy is the man that chooses
Israel’s God to be his aid;
He is blessed whose hope of blessing
On the Lord his God is stayed.
Heav’n and earth the Lord created,
Seas and all that they contain;
He delivers from oppression,
Righteousness he will maintain.

Food he daily gives the hungry,
Sets the mourning prisoner free,
Raises those bowed down with anguish,
Makes the sightless eyes to see.
Well Jehovah loves the righteous,
And the stranger he befriends,
Helps the fatherless and widow,
Judgment on the wicked sends.

Hallelujah, praise Jehovah,
O my soul, Jehovah praise;
I will sing the glorious praises
Of my God through all my days.
Over all God reigns for ever,
Through all ages he is king;
Unto him, your God, O Zion,
Joyful hallelujahs sing.

One of the blessings of living in the United States of America is freedom of speech. No American needs to ask permission to state his mind, whether in public or in private. This freedom is recognized as a fundamental right—the kind of right that the Declaration of Independence calls “inalienable.” What is an inalienable right? It is a right that stands on its own, a right of which no one can be deprived, and a right that no one can surrender.

The original text of the United States Constitution did not mention this right. That neglect was soon corrected, however, and the right to free speech was soon protected in the first listing of ten amendments known as the Bill of Rights. The right to free speech is specifically protected by the First Amendment. It is worth noting that the Bill of Rights is not a grant of rights. It is a recognition and legal protection of rights that already exist.

The limitations upon this right are few. Obscene speech is not protected. Libel is not protected. Neither is speech that creates what Chief Justice Holmes called a “clear and present danger”—specifically, speech that is directed toward and likely to incite imminent lawless action. In other words, protests are protected speech. Incitement to riot is not. Riots themselves are certainly not.

Americans have a tradition of protest speech that dates from before the time the colonies united as states. On December 16, 1773, sixty Sons of Liberty disguised themselves as Indians (their term) and heaved some forty-six tons of tea into Boston Harbor. Whether or not the Tea Act was an unjust law, and whether or not the Boston Tea Party was a moral protest, one thing is clear—protest is not new in America.

To be clear, however, no justified protest can ever breach a just law—not even for the purpose of protesting an unjust act. For example, laws that permit abortions on demand are evil laws. Christians can rightly protest these laws and seek to change them. They might even choose to protest abortion clinics. If they do, however, they must respect the property rights of those clinics. Laws that protect property are just laws, even when they protect unjust people. To undermine property law is to undermine something fundamental to human life and liberty.

The principle is simple: no one can live without property. If someone deprives you of all possessions (clothing, shelter, food, and the means to obtain them), you will die. Whoever can deprive you of property can deprive you of life. It is no accident that “Thou shalt not steal” is a fundamental moral law.

Consequently, when protestors commit trespass or seize a building, they become renegades. They are answerable for breaching just laws. The same is true of protestors that block public streets and hinder traffic: access and egress is part of the means to obtain property. If the street leads to a hospital or some other essential service, then access and egress may even be immediately critical to life.

Certain perspectives commonly distinguish violent from non-violent protests. This distinction, however, hardly matters; it is nearly meaningless. When a just law is breached, the difference between violence and non-violence is at most one of degree. The correct distinction is between protests that respect just laws and protests that breach them. If a protest breaches just laws, then it is really in the same class as a violent protest or a riot.

Liberty rests upon order, and when order collapses, liberty topples. The fundamental duty of all civil authority is to maintain good order and to execute retribution upon those who rupture it. The Bible makes this point all the way from Genesis 9:6 to 1 Peter 2:14, but it would still be true even if we had no Bible. Nothing is worse or more destructive to liberty than anarchy—even when it masquerades as anti-Fascism.

How should the state respond to violence? How should authorities react to people who run wild, burning buildings and looting property? The only right answer is that the civil authority “beareth not the sword in vain” (Rom 13:4). Governments are within their biblical boundaries to suppress violence with violence. If the police cannot or will not maintain order, then the military must.

This principle also applies to supposedly “non-violent” protests that transgress just laws—including property and trespass laws. The fact that protestors are unarmed does not mean that they have the right to intimidate the innocent or to stem the normal flow of normal human liberty. Where just laws are breached, government has a primary duty to intervene.

Rage is not protest. Riot is not protest. Plunder is not protest. Trespass is not protest. The business of government is to stop people from engaging in such behaviors as a form of protest. Officials who cannot understand this simple truth need to be removed from office as swiftly as possible.

I believe strongly in the right to protest. In fact, this essay is an exercise in that right. What I deny is the right to breach just laws. I may be on your side in whatever you happen to be protesting (certainly the case with abortion), but the moment you violate a just law, you will lose my support. In fact, I will cheer when the government meets you with whatever level of force is necessary to halt your infraction and to restore order.

The state of Minnesota understands these principles. In the city of Robbinsdale, less than three miles from my home, is an abortion clinic. By law, protestors are prohibited from trespassing on clinic property. By court order, they must maintain a specified distance from the clinic. This law is rigorously enforced. I am grateful to live in a state where even non-violent protests are held in check.

Right?

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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 the Malicious or Profane

Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Not the malicious or profane,
The wanton or the proud,
Nor thieves, nor sland’rers, shall obtain
Tue kingdom of our God.

Surprising grace! and such were we
By nature and by sin,
Heirs of immortal misery,
Unholy and unclean.

But we are washed in Jesus’ blood,
We’re pardoned through his name;
And the good Spirit of our God
Has sanctified our frame.

O for a persevering power
To keep thy just commands
We would defile our hearts no more,
No more pollute our hands.

The summer has not gone as I intended. Of course, many folk can say the same, what with the restrictions imposed in the wake of COVID-19. That’s not what I mean, though. I saw those restrictions as an opportunity. Suddenly my entire summer schedule opened up. I didn’t have a single speaking engagement or a single meeting to attend. This reprieve promised time to complete a major editing job and perhaps a minor writing project or two. I also hoped to tackle a couple of small household tasks.

One of these was to replace the door and its frame on the shed in my back yard. Perhaps I should describe the shed. I built it nearly twenty years ago. While I planned to use it for storage, I also wanted it to be useful as a shop or even an office if the occasion arose. My city allows construction of an outbuilding of up to 120 square feet without a building permit, so I built it ten feet by twelve. The shed rests on a post and beam foundation and is a complete frame structure: joists, sill plates, rafters, studs on sixteen-inch centers. It has an eight-foot ceiling, a gambrel roof, and an attic that I can sit up in.

Last fall I noticed that the door frame had water damage and rot was beginning to set in. I intended to make a weekend project of replacing it. When I tore out the frame, however, I discovered that the jack studs, sill plate, and flooring had been infested with carpenter ants. That’s when I knew I had a real problem.

I tore off the skirting and trim from the bottom of the shed, revealing that the ants had attacked the rim joists and sill plates all the way around the shed. The foundation was intact—I had used pressure treated lumber for the beams—but I was confronted with the problem of repairing the lowest part of the superstructure. Everything else rests on the joists and sill plates. Would I have to demolish the shed and rebuild? Or could I find a way to replace the damaged wood without sacrificing the superstructure?

I could and did. I had to work wall by wall. For each wall, I first cut away the flooring to reveal the joists. I also cut away the bottom several inches of siding to gain access to the structure from outside. I built a framework on the inside, attached to the studs. Then I jacked up each wall, cut out the damaged lumber, and replaced the joists and plates with pressure treated wood. Then I lowered the wall and toe-nailed the old studs to the new plate. While I was at it I sistered the joists wherever they needed extra support to ensure a solid structure.

Because I was working alone, and because I am old and slow, each side took about a week to complete. Then the floor had to be replaced, the whole shed resided, a new door built and fitted, and new trim installed. I still have to install new drip edge, seal the cut edges of the siding, install a bit of trim, and paint the whole thing. It’s almost done.

The foregoing may leave the impression that I enjoy construction or what is often called “working with my hands.” Some people do. I am not one of them. On the contrary, I loathe this work, though I have had to learn to do it. My bent is toward books and ideas. I begrudge every moment I have to spend on household maintenance. Repairing the door and frame was going to make for a dark weekend. Then, as the project grew, it began to seem like a long, black tunnel.

This one project has consumed my summer. I would get up in the mornings and start working on the shed while the temperatures were cooler. During the afternoons and evenings I would try to keep up with seminary work. Days slipped into weeks and then into months. Now the summer is gone. Manual labor has crowded out most of the goals that I had hoped to accomplish before the school year began.

Nevertheless, the experience has not been without lessons, and these have reinforced certain truths that I already knew. Two have been particularly important for me. Let me share them.

The first is that God exercises providential control over our lives. We make our plans, but they are always subject to God’s plan. He is free to interrupt us and redirect our efforts at any moment (Jas 4:13-15). Consequently, our response to those inconveniences reveals our confidence in Him. As Medieval mystic Walter Hilton suggested, we should embrace interruptions as service to God, even if we are disturbed in the middle of our devotions. He intends to gain glory for Himself through those disruptions. Why should we begrudge it? Should we not respond with joy? This summer has provided an opportunity to accept God’s providential dealings in my life and to trust that He knows what He is doing.

The second lesson is that every possession brings with it a stewardship. Jesus observed that earthly treasures are subject to corruption by moth and rust (Matt 6:19). I can testify that they can also be corrupted by carpenter ants. The point is that our possessions make a claim upon us: whatever we own, owns us. Taking possession of a thing makes us responsible for its wellbeing (its maintenance) and its proper use. Greater possessions engender greater responsibility. Consequently, there is a case to be made for simplicity, for keeping possessions to a minimum. I’m not suggesting that possessions are wrong—not for a moment! Still, Jesus cautions against allowing our hearts to become preoccupied with the “cares of this life” (Luke 21:34). One way of avoiding those cares is to commit ourselves to owning fewer possessions. At minimum we ought to realize that the cost of any possession is always greater than its purchase price.

My summer is now at an end. The rest of this week will be occupied with faculty in-service, and classes will begin next week. I’ll put the finishing touches on the shed while returning to a life of students, lectures, and grading. Perhaps I can even get back to those projects that I had hoped to accomplish at the beginning of the summer.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of 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.

Wait, O My Soul, Thy Maker’s Will

Benjamin Beddome (1717–1795)

Wait, O my soul, thy Maker’s will,
Tumultuous passions all be still,
Nor let a murmuring thought arise;
His ways are just, his counsels wise.

In realms of cloudless light he dwells,
Performs his work, the cause conceals;
And though his footsteps are unknown,
Judgment and truth support his throne.

In heaven and earth and air and seas
He executes his firm decrees;
And by his saints it stands confessed
That what he does is ever best.

Wait, then, my soul, submissive wait,
With reverence bow before his seat,
And ’mid the terrors of his rod
Trust in a wise and gracious God.

This discussion about race and the church has been invigorating and thought-provoking. Yet both of us realize that we have only scratched the surface. We must proceed to the last two questions we want to consider. These questions help us to circle back to one of our main reasons for beginning this series in the first place: we want to understand each other’s perspectives. While neither of us claims to represent fully the White (Jon) or Black (Emmanuel) evangelical viewpoint, we desire to help our readers recognize that as much as we all desire perfect unity in the church, this will not be possible until Christ comes again. So just as Jews and Gentiles struggled to accept and to understand one another in the first century church, we White and Black Christians also must work to accept and to understand one another in the American church. May God help efforts like this to maintain (and increase!) the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace in Christ’s church (Eph 4:3).

How can we be supportive of the ruling authorities in our land (such as police, military, and justice departments) while also showing support for those “others” who feel frustrated with the lack of justice these authorities are called to enact?

JP: First, the Bible calls us to submit to civil authorities and to support their efforts to fulfill their God-given responsibility to punish evildoers and to approve those who do good (Rom 13:1–5). This is why Christians should resist any efforts to abolish or defund police departments, and if a city’s population grows or if the incidence of crime rises, funding to the police should increase. Second, we should encourage wise policing which includes comprehensive and humanitarian training. Third, we should look for opportunities to thank (both privately and publicly) those who enforce justice and protect us at home and abroad.

How can I lend support to people of color who claim that civil authorities are often unjust in the way they treat minorities? First, I need to listen, to be quick to hear and slow to speak (James 1:19). Second, I need to acknowledge poor policing when it occurs and avoid minimizing or denying that it has happened. Third, I need to have a well-established relationship with my Black friends so that we can have an honest conversation about two things in particular: 1) Actual statistics regarding police behavior show that there is no racial bias when it comes to police shootings; however, there is evidence of racial disparity when it comes to non-lethal use of force with people of color being 50% more likely to experience some form of force in police interactions than White people (https://www.dennyburk.com/can-we-weep-with-those-who-weep/). 2) Injustices in the past never justify sinful behavior (such as rioting) or unjust decisions in the courtroom in the present (I recall the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach when O.J. Simpson’s acquittal announcement in 1995 was met with cheers from several of my workmates).

EM: One simple way we can show support for police officers and military personnel is with a word of thanks. We regularly encounter police and military personnel in passing. If we would take a moment and thank them for their service, this would be a big encouragement. We support all authorities with our prayers. Pray for their well-being, for their safety, for their families. Pray that our authorities will exercise a righteous rule and legislate laws that produce peace and are consistent with God’s way of godliness. Also, we should pray for their salvation. Pray that the Lord will use them for our good and not for our chastisement (1 Tim 2:1-4; Rom 13:1-7).

For the frustrated Christians I would remind them that justice is in the hands of the Lord. He will take vengeance against every injustice. It is a confidence every Christian should embrace. It is our assurance from the mouth of our Lord Himself (Rom 12:19). We can be angry over injustices or political decisions, but we can never engage in illegal actions or join hands with subversive groups.

Satisfying the spirit of the general populace is not realistic. What God calls His people to do makes no sense to the unsaved. We can express regret. We can listen to the complaints. We can work within our community for better policing. But we can also give them this reminder: Years ago, LA’s Chief of Police, Willie Williams, was asked why he couldn’t do a better job recruiting police officers. He responded, “Our source of recruits is from the community.” The police are us. They will never be perfect. We are not perfect. We need to work together for the betterment of our community. We need to be better people ourselves. We need a Savior and a transformed life.

How should we respond to the desire of some to destroy symbols related to slavery (like statues and flags), to rename historical/geographical places, and to denigrate historical figures who owned slaves or who fought for the South in the Civil War?

JP: All people are sinners and, therefore, no one leaves a sinless legacy (Jesus excepted, of course). Statues are commissioned and places named in people’s honor because of some noteworthy accomplishment on their resume. But how should we respond when we learn negative truths about these heroes (e.g. they owned slaves)? Or in the case of famous generals or statesmen, should we completely ignore their contribution to America’s history because they fought for the South? Allow me to answer these queries with two questions: “What was the person best known for?” and “Is the awareness of this person’s faults bringing undue pain to people today?” One thing that is difficult to quantify in this discussion is what it means for someone to be “offended” by one of these symbols. I want to be considerate of my brothers’ and sisters’ feelings, but there is sometimes a fine line between “offending” sensibilities and causing an offense that leads someone to sin (1 Cor 8:7–13). I pray for God’s wisdom to know the difference and to land on the side that looks to the needs of others above my own (Phil 2:4).

EM: The words of the apostle Paul (Rom 13:7) come immediately to mind. Every Christian is commanded to render to all authority taxes due, respect and honor due. Statues, murals, and pavilions have been ways civic leaders, the nation, and communities honored historical figures for their contributions. Some of those honored owned slaves and some are said to have had a reputation for White supremacy. No one is without fault, and history should not be revised for special interest groups. Perhaps a productive approach would be to incorporate a more inclusive methodology while honoring figures in American history. For instance, when I was in high school, I recall our history books had one paragraph on slavery and another paragraph that mentioned Booker T. Washington and George Washington Carver. I was an adult before I learned of the many African-American contributors to our nation’s success.

There is a saying, “Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter.” I do not know the exact source of the proverb. Some claim an African origin. One interpretation states, “As long as the lion can’t write, the hunter keeps telling his side of the story. His heroic acts in the jungle, his expeditions, medals, and bravery are glorified in all his stories.” The success of our nation was a contribution of many, both the hunter and the lion.

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.

Psalm 64

Henry Francis Lyte (1793–1847)

Hear, O Lord, our supplication;
Let our souls on Thee repose!
Be our refuge, our salvation,
’Mid ten thousand threatening foes.

Lord, Thy saints have many troubles,
In their path lies many a snare:
But before Thy breath like bubbles,
Melt they soon in idle air.

Cunning are the foe’s devices,
Bitter are his words of gall;
Sin on every side entices;
Lord, conduct us safe through all.

Be our foes by Thee confounded,
Let the world Thy goodness see,
While, by might and love surrounded,
We rejoice, and trust in Thee.