Category Archives: Gospel and Culture

Eschatology is Personal

by Stephen Rodgers

Editor’s Note: In cased you didn’t know, I’ll be filling in for Garrett until he is able to return to his Living Theology series.

Well, in case you missed it, my post last week was a bit…longwinded. I’ll aim to be a good deal wittier this time, assuming that you agree that brevity is its soul and all that. So moving right along…

My claim this week is that there are basically two categories of unfortunate events: the personal (which we call a “tragedy”) and the impersonal (which we call a “statistic”…or if we’re being more sensitive, a “current event”). In other words, the relative tragedy of any given event is often directly related to our personal attachments, or lack thereof. I’ll give you two brief examples, and I’ll even use bullet points to ensure their brevity:

  • Columbine, 1999. There’s no denying that the horrible events at Columbine high school captured national attention. However, while I also watched the news and read the papers, I had a more personal connection. A childhood friend of mine was attending Columbine at the time, and in those days prior to Gmail and Facebook, SMS and Twitter, being unaware of how someone else was doing was a given, not the exception. It wasn’t until several days later that I heard from him and knew that he and his brother were alive.
  • Moravia, 2010. I read and/or skim a great many articles every day, and so like most days, I slid my eyes across the front page of the international version of CNN. This time however, they caught on a headline informing me of “massive flooding in Moravia” along with a number of pictures that demonstrated in no uncertain terms that water laughs in the face of modern engineering. Normally, the relative moistness of Central/Eastern Europe has no bearing on my life, except that this time it came with the realization that my fiancée was potentially treading water. She has since corrected my view (“We live on hill, so water is not a problem; we fear fire.”), but at the time it was alarming to say the least.

So this brings us to eschatology.

Now a number of you might be scratching your heads at that one. After all, your familiarity with eschatology might bring to mind a number of prefixes: pre-, post-, and a- right? And something in there about “tribs?” Particularly savvy students might be trundling out their commentaries on Daniel and Matthew along with Revelation, but in this case, they’ve jumped the gun (whether they’ve jumped the shark as well is grist for another mill). You see, I don’t mean that kind of eschatology, I mean that kind of eschatology.

For those who cannot see my indicative hand-waving and chin-thrusting, I am referring not to eschatology of the a-/pre-/post- variety (what theologians often call “specific eschatology”) but of the Heaven/Hell variety (what theologians often call “general eschatology”).

You see, I recently heard a comment that started me down this line of reasoning. When asked to comment on his post-millennial views, Douglas Wilson made the observation that while he personally doesn’t believe that Jesus Christ could return tomorrow, there is absolutely nothing whatsoever preventing Him from demanding that Pastor Wilson make the trip to Him. In other words, whatever your view on when the sovereign Lord intends to return to judge the quick and dead, we all agree that like the rich fool that Christ so aptly illustrated for us, our life could be demanded of us this very night. (Luke 12:16-21)

However, before we all wax poetic and oh-so-sanctified about how wonderful Heaven will be (my aforementioned fire-fearing fiancée is an excellent example of this, as she famously has announced that she does not fear interstate highways and crazed American drivers because “Heaven is better”), let us pause briefly to consider that this applies to unbelievers as well as believers.  Which is to say, “Yes!  True!  But…”  In other words, as I once pointed out in my Apologetics class, the issue is not whether we live forever or don’t. Everyone, by their God-given nature, is functionally immortal. The question, rather, is where you will eternally reside?

So my challenge to you is this: what priority do you place on the souls of the lost? What time do you spend in evangelism? How near and dear…how personal…is your eschatology? You see, like Columbine, like Moravia, and like so many other tragedies, Hell is personal for me. I have friends there. I have family there. And it is something that is starting to keep me up at night. Because while they are forever beyond my reach, there are others who are not. I commented earlier that 1999 was a lousy year in terms of digital media and a robust social-networking scene. News flash: 2010 is quite the opposite. There are over 500 names in my Gmail contacts. There are almost 400 souls calling themselves my Facebook “friends.” This newsletter alone garners nearly 3,000 unique visitors per month.  That’s a lot of people that God has brought within the reach of my voice, phone, and keyboard.

How many of those people need to hear the Gospel? How many have yet to bend the knee to Christ?

And do we take it personally?

“If sinners will be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our bodies. And if they will perish, let them perish with our arms around their knees, imploring them to stay. If Hell must be filled, at least let it be filled in the teeth of our exertions, and let not one go there unwarned and unprayed for.” (C.H. Spurgeon)

The New Atheism, Fast Company, and the Integrity of Doubt

by Stephen Rodgers

Where’s Garrett?

So in case you’re wondering what happened to Garrett, he needed a couple of weeks to take care of some personal business up north. And while normally I am a very “planned plans” kind of guy (as my fiancée says), when you’ve contributed an article a week for almost a year as Garrett has done, you’ve earned the right to call your editor, tell him to cover for you, and take some time off. So instead of Garrett you get me. I’m sorry.

You’re going to be sorry too when you see how long this article is.  And since 1) Garrett gave me rather short notice, and 2) I’m the editor…I think we can safely assume that it sailed through editing without sufficient review.  Such is life.  But in the spirit of the Lord, I did not come to bring peace, but an essay of interminable length.  Plus, I’ve exercised, I’m caffeinated, it’s been a good week in the Word, and I’ve been reading a lot of Frank Turk, so I’ve “got my mad on” as the kids say these days. Or whatever they say these days.

And as anyone knows, when I get worked up about something, working it out can take a while. So use the restroom if you need to. And pack a lunch. This could take a little while.

The New Atheism

Today I want to bring your attention to the so-called “New Atheism” that we’ve all heard of. Numerous books have been written by this group, in support of this group, in opposition to this group, and about this group. The whole movement has become something of a cultural lightning rod in certain circles, which is why I think that it will pretty much burn out in five to ten years. As a whole, Western thought in the 21st century seems to have been afflicted with a rather serious case of ADHD, and the shirt that begins a rational thought and concludes with “…oh look, a chicken!” seems rather prophetic. It’s been a fun diversion, but we’re starting to lose interest and it’s time to move on to the next all-the-rage-ideology in our marketplace of ideas.

That’s not what I wanted to talk about however. And all my predictions notwithstanding, I am neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet. If we’re invoking genealogies however, my father does work for a non-profit organization.

Ok bad joke. Somewhere my fiancée is having a giggling fit. But that can be attributed to her sheer reckless joy in the wonder of wordplay that is possible in English, and how love of language covers a multitude of my sins against humor.  You may say that in this arena, I sin so that grace may abound, and perhaps I do…but again, blame Garrett, not me.

However, for those who missed it the first time around, let me give you a rather brief recap of the New Atheism, it’s notable representatives, and it’s latest contribution to the discussion among worldviews.

The Four Horsemen

The so-called “New Atheism” movement is really nothing that new, per se. A few years ago, there was a flurry of books published pro-atheism/contra-Christianity, and from this body of literature four voices emerged as the primary spokesmen. Those voices were Richard Dawkins (a biologist), Daniel Dennett (a philosopher), Christopher Hitchens (a writer), and Sam Harris (at the time, a graduate student in neuroscience who has since completed his studies). And ever since they got together for a roundtable discussion of sorts in 2007, they’ve referred to themselves (and been referred to by the media) as the “Four Horsemen of Atheism.” As an amateur apologist of the Van Tillian variety, I can’t help but facepalm in noting that even their very name is “borrowed” from the Christian scriptures (Revelation 6:1-8). Truly, as the Preacher said, there is nothing new under the sun (Ecclesiastes 1:9-11).

I’m not particularly fond of the Four Horsemen label. For one, I don’t like loaning out Christian books to people who return them with the pages smudged and the corners dog-eared, not to mention the nasty notes written in the margins. Also, with the relatively recent revelation that Christopher Hitchens is in the final stages of cancer, drawing parallels between him and Pestilence seemed rather tasteless. It is the sort of shocking reference that I would actually expect Mister Hitchens to embrace rather than shrink from, but mine would be a most uncomfortable laughter.

To my mind, the “Four Horsemen” were more reminiscent of the modern boy band than the Biblical Apocalypse. Richard Dawkins is the front man; he is the catalyst, the rallying point, and the central pillar of the group. Daniel Dennett is the deep one, the writer, the (for lack of a better word), the soulful one (and he sports an epic beard to prove it, of which I am duly jealous). Christopher Hitchens is the bad boy; in a different world I can envision him sporting sleeveless undershirts in combination with a beanie, muscled arms covered in cryptic tattoos, and adorning the posters on teenage girls’ walls. And Sam Harris…well…not to be too insulting or dismissive but Sam Harris is that other guy. Every band has one, and those of you who play in one know exactly what I mean.

But more on Mister Harris later.

The Integrity of Doubt in General

The literature of the New Atheism is often said to be bracing in its assertions. The authors do not shy away from making their claims, rather they proclaim them boldly, assert them aggressively, and even take a rather perverse joy in blasphemously sticking their finger in the eye of religion in general and Christianity in particular. And once the initial shock wears off, there is something almost endearing about this; after all, at least they are honest about it right? These are not knives in the dark; this is a gunfight at high noon.

But when one reads further, something is not quite right about their assertions. They muster seemingly-impressive arguments to justify their disbelief. Their objections seem almost righteous in their fury, and their claims that they are simply following the evidence wherever it might lead seem almost noble…but one can’t help but feel a bit uneasy.  To paraphrase the Bard, something is fishy in Denmark, and while it isn’t immediately apparent, it’s there…just beneath the surface.

It took me a while to put my finger on it, but I think I’ve finally sorted it out. While it’s easy to get carried away by their claims, there is an undercurrent of disingenuity to the whole affair. And in that understanding I was finally able to understand while after nearly five years of dealing with the fallout that this movement has produced, I can honestly say that while I have been exhausted, I have not been enriched. In other words, there is a good reason that the whole affair has made me tired, but not smarter.

You see, the whole movement, when the veneer of glamour, rage, and panache is stripped away, is empty inside. It’s a parody of the Trojan Horse: hollow yes, but the soldiers overslept and the arborous equine was delivered without its martial payload.

The Integrity of Doubt in Dawkins

Take Richard Dawkins for example. He quotes early and often the atheist argument (technically categorized under “multiple-attribute disproof”) that if God did exist, He could not possibly be both omniscient and omnipotent. After all, a God who knows the future in absolute terms is actually powerless to change it, is He not? For if He knows something about the future, and He knows it in the past, then when He eventually arrives at the time of the event in question, He’s stuck. If He knows the event, He can’t change it (and is thus not omnipotent). If He changes the event, then He didn’t really know it (and is thus not omniscient). And so Mister Dawkins crosses his arms, leans back in his chair and feels that in 30 seconds he has dismissed the question of the existence of God.

Now don’t get me wrong; this might be a great argument to use against me if I ever were to claim that I were God, with all the divine properties and human limitations therein. But who EVER suggested that the Christian God is like me? Who said that He knows things as I do, subject to the vicissitudes of space and time? The God of Christian theism is not subject to the universe He created, caught up in His own creation and along for the ride whether He likes it or not. Rather He stands over and outside it; this is precisely what we mean when we describe God as transcendent, when we speak of the Creator/creature distinction, and is even hinted at when we invoke His attribute of Holiness.

And this is no cheap equivocation on the part of the Christian; we aren’t making this up as we go along. In several of my conversations with modern atheists they have been unable to grasp the irony of mocking my “bronze age holy book” with one breath, and then faceplanting into the most basic descriptions of deity it espouses with the next. “That argument,” they will sputter, “was advanced by Plantinga, and has yet to be proven!” No friends. That argument was advanced by Isaiah (and I detect echoes of Moses in there as well) and has yet to be refuted. I realize that being fashionably belligerent is all the rage these days (another pun; the audience groans and my fiancée laughs), but please, a modicum of respect for history. We have gone over this ground before: the prophet Isaiah (Isaiah 46:8-10), the apostle Paul (Acts 17:24-28; Romans 11:36; Colossians 1:16), the church father Augustine (in his declaration the prior to God creating it, time was not)…and these men have been on record for thousands of years. There comes a point in debate when your opponent refuses to abandon a pointless line of argument, and we all channel our inner James White and finally resort to praying for patience as we repeat our mantra of “asked and answered” through gritted teeth.

And so, as a Christian theist I am forced to admit that perhaps Mister Dawkins has done some damage to the God of deism. If these arguments were assembled, put in good order, and aimed well then we might conclude that they strike the god of Spinoza. But the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob watches the missiles sail harmlessly by, and were He not omniscient, would no doubt be wondering what the heck the archer thought he was aiming at.

The Integrity of Doubt in Hitchens

This is getting long, so I must move along, and so I skip past Dennett for reasons of space rather than fear to arrive at Hitchens. Now to be fair to Mister Hitchens, he is rather fun to listen to. Of all the exemplars of the New Atheism he is the cleverest, the most humorous, and far-and-away the most entertaining. But nestled among his bon mots and his scorching sentences is a rather alarming vapidity of scholarship. His book God Is Not Great betrays a rather obvious dearth of philosophical argumentation, historical accuracy, and logical reasoning.

David B. Hart goes into far greater detail on the matter, and is more fun to read as well, so I would simply recommend to you his essay on the subject. (And in the interest of giving credit where credit is due, was a source of inspiration for this essay as well).  But at the end of the day, to my mind at least, Hitchens’ objections to Christianity fail to even find Christianity in the first place, and then fail to even rise to the level of argumentation in any event. So we have arguments that aren’t against a target that isn’t…which is politely known as “nonsensical” to those in academia. Others may employ harsher language, but this is, after all, a church newsletter.

The Integrity of Doubt in Harris and Fast Company

Now you’ve been quite patient to come this far with me. I would beg your indulgence to go a little further, with the encouraging comment that, (as Henry VIII perhaps said to one of his wives), “I shan’t keep you long.”

You see, this brings us to Sam Harris and his most recent foray into the fray, armed with nothing less than an infographic. For those of you who haven’t been blessed or cursed so as to have relatives who forward a veritable bounty of these to you daily (in my family the less scholarly inclined seem fond of GraphJam, whereas the more educated have a preference for FlowingData), and infographic is simply a visual representation of some data set. If that’s still confusing, think of it simply as a “graph on steroids” and that should be a sufficient basis for moving on.

You see, all that to say that late last week Mister Harris emerged onto the scene with a graphic showing the alleged contradictions within the Bible. One writer has even crowed her triumph by crowning her endorsement of the graphic with the proclamation “So to anyone who thinks the Bible’s the last word on anything, remember this: It isn’t even the last word on itself.”

Alright…got it. Flag on the play. A claim against Biblical inerrancy has been lodged, and the ball, as they say, is in our court. But is this really a case of novel argumentation, or once again do we find ourselves well-lit and in the presence of something rather old?

Integrity MIA: Info-

First there is the question of where these objections came from. Apparently they came from someone named Steve Wells…and apparently Mister Wells has been able to put his copy/paste skills to good use in appropriating (that is the correct term, we do not say “stealing” when it comes to works of literature and art!), the very same questions raised by the Skeptic’s Annotated Bible (see here and here). For those unfamiliar with the work, it is pretty much exactly what you would expect given its name: a series of objections and questions to the Bible, often relying on an overly-literal hermeneutic of some kind, in annotated form.  And just to muddy the waters further, it typically uses the KJV, but that’s another issue for another day.

Now please understand, my point here is not to fault Mister Wells in using a readily available set of data. And to be fair, it doesn’t seem to be an exact match since the graphic in question cites 439 alleged contradictions and the latest version of the SAB cites 457. My point is simply to show these are not new objections; they have been asked before, they have been answered before, and this whole exercise is one in retracing our steps rather than boldly going where no man has gone before. And more to the point, the SAB at least has the intellectual honesty to link to a fair number of Christian explanations and refutations regarding these alleged contradictions. (And I do emphasize “alleged” since a large number of them can be resolved simply by restoring one or both verses to their context, and then reading them there). In fact, the SAB is sometimes used in seminaries to underscore the importance of hermeneutics; it’s not considered a strong argument raised against inerrancy (at least, properly understood).

Alright, so at the very least this presentation is predicated on specious argumentation and a lack of intellectual charity. After all, as the late Dr. Greg Bahnsen observed, when your opponent presents an argument that can be understood in either a weak or strong sense, it is incumbent on any scholar wishing to preserve their integrity to deal with the strongest possible form of the argument. Otherwise at best you are a coward, and at worst you’ve committed the logical fallacy of arguing against a straw man.

But does it end there?

Integrity MIA: -graphic

You see, as I observed earlier in my essay (we’re being charitable remember, so let’s call it an essay), that I am both a Van Tillian in my apologetic orientation, and an artist/statistician by training who is often besieged by emails from well-meaning family members containing just such infographics. And while those might seem unrelated, they converge precisely at the point of Mister Harris’ allegedly-novel presentation (alternatively described as “stunning” and “provocative”) of alleged Bible contradictions. And since my theological betters have already addressed the issue of the contradictions well enough (see contributions from Justin Holcomb, Douglas Wilson, and Matt Perman…which interestingly enough pretty much covers a decent range of my theological library as well…if Phil Johnson wades into the mix I’ve got a complete set).  There may be others; that’s merely what I found in the first 24 hours.  That leaves very little for me to deal with, except the “graphic” part of the infographic. But I have a BA in Visual Arts…sort of…and so with sketchbook in hand and beret perched at a rakish angle, into the fray I go.

Now, the design of the graphic itself is attributed to Andy Marlow. But it seems rather familiar to me…probably since I wrote about one suspiciously similar back in January. This has been done before. It has been done better, and ironically enough, it has been done by Christians. And so, interestingly enough, we have a very real example of atheism propping itself up on borrowed capital. However, lest I mistake charity for lying, it is worth noting in passing that when the capital is borrowed without the original artist’s knowledge, we call that “stealing,” and when the capital is abstract and epistemic or artistic in nature we call that “plagiarism.”

Oh.  Oh dear.

Now to be fair, do I have any real evidence that Mister Marlow simply stole Mister Harrison’s work, made a few minor changes, and is now passing it off as his own?  Well, again in good presuppositional fashion, that is going to depend entirely on what sort of propositions you accept as “evidence” in the first place.  If you are asking if I have video evidence of Mister Marlow talking aloud to himself about how the inspiration of his work came from elsewhere…then no.  If you are wondering if perhaps certain emails have come into my possession wherein he admits to having prior knowledge of the original piece, and elects to use an almost-identical style without attribution…then no.  However, I do have two perfectly good eyes, and when point out that this is Mister Harrison’s work from at least ten months ago, and this is Mister Marlow’s work from last week…well, decide for yourself.  To my trained eye, the appropriation seems completely obvious.

Integrity and Lack Thereof

Part of the oft-referenced title of this piece is “the integrity of doubt.” I originally latched onto that idea in confronting the claims of the New Atheists that their doubt and disbelief stemmed honestly from their examination of the evidence available to them. Some of you might realize that as a Van Tillian I already reject that notion on Biblical grounds, while conceding the possibility that perhaps, in their self-deception, they believe it to be true. As I showed several times, this “doubt” is not really doubt at all; what they disbelieve is not what the Christian believes. They have not refuted Christian theism so much as they have simply failed to understand it.

In his letter to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul writes “Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?” (1 Corinthians 1:20) Simply put, it is an open challenge: if you want to go head to head with God, then show up and do so. Step into the ring. And like Job, (I’m paraphrasing here), you will find that in the end, your arms are simply too short to box with God.

The New Atheists act like prizefighters. They strut around, chests puffed out, flexing impressively. Oh sure, they talk a good game. Initially they sound dangerous. On paper, their record seems good. And we start to wonder if when they finally get into the ring, if perhaps God might be in a bit of trouble after all.

But they never get in the ring. They run around the ring. They shout insults into the ring. Occasionally they may even climb into some other ring and administer a beatdown to some lesser conception of deity. But they never actually fight the Christian God; He is evaded, He is made fun of, but He is never actually engaged.

But this comes to a head of sorts in this latest offering from Harris. All manner of problems are both inherited and invented here. You see, it is one thing to exhibit shoddy scholarship in selecting your data set. And into that general realm of intellectual feebleness I would include things like broadly construing words like “contradiction,” and ignoring elements of the case that undermine your argument like context, metaphor, and genre. But it is something else entirely to blatantly rip off another’s work without even passing attribution. As someone instilled with a particular form of academic ethos, I am outraged; in respectable scholarly company, this is simply not done. And as an artist, I can’t help but notice that it is also utterly unnecessary. After all, atheism in general and the New Atheists in particular have a history of using traditionally Christian forms of argument in a satirical and subversive way. I may not always enjoy or appreciate their doing so, but when done so honestly, it is a valid form of expression. However, this is not satire; this is lying.

And all this brought to us by the so-called “Horseman” whose most notable academic work is in the area of morality and ethics. I trust the irony is not lost on you.

Update: The Fast Company page now contains a line stating “Inspiration: Chris Harrison.”  It’s about the bare minimum that could be done in terms of attribution, but at the very least, they have now done that.

Editor’s Note: An updated version of this article was featured in the journal “In Antithesis.” More information can be found here.

Baptism – Hub Post

by Stephen Rodgers

This is the hub post for Richard Shin’s seven-part series on baptism.  From this page, you can easily find and refer to all posts in this series.

All posts in the Baptism series:

In addition to Richard’s series, we have gath­ered a num­ber of resources together in order to make it eas­ier for peo­ple to begin to think Biblically about this subject. Not wishing to divide these into too many categories, (and wanting to keep this as open and transparent as possible) I’ve broken them up by position. In case it wasn’t clear, LBC holds to the credo-baptist position, as outlined in section D of our Statement of Faith.

For the time-being, I’m keeping these resources at a high level, and not diving down into some of the more particular debates and discussions (the idiosyncrasies of Lutheran baptism, the credo-baptist age debates, the situation and grounding of baptism in either ecclesiology or triune theology proper, etc.).

Credo-Baptist (“Believer’s Baptism”)

Allegedly Neutral, Mixed, or Reference

Paedo-Baptist (“Infant Baptism”)

Conclusion (part 7)

by Richard Shin

The importance of baptism in a believer’s life cannot be over-emphasized. While the ordinance itself does not effect salvation, the depth of meaning behind it is paramount. Beginning with John the Baptist’s baptism of repentance, we looked at Jesus’ ministry and how His full obedience to the Father’s will included His own baptism. We also saw how highly the early church apostles regarded and practiced baptism. And then we delved deeper into two highly influential leaders in the early church and how their teachings spoke highly of believer’s baptism. Then we topped off our discussion with a quick look at the Reformed Presbyterian position of infant baptism.

The topic is weighty. People’s views on baptism range all over the spectrum, and we as Christians should not let this topic go easily. The significance of the ordinance of baptism in the life of a Christian is vital. We have to study it from the Bible (as with anything else) and grasp the full meaning behind it, not only because we have to understand it, but so that we can teach others, especially new believers, why it’s so important. However, we must never lose sight of what baptism is supposed to point us towards, the gospel of Jesus Christ. Like Paul, “Christ did not send [us] to baptize but to preach the gospel” (1 Cor. 1:17). And like Paul, we ought to hold the doctrine of the gospel at the center of all our other doctrines; it has and always will be the focus of all our preaching (1 Cor. 2:2). Therefore, the doctrine and practice of baptism has and always will represent the death, burial, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. And much like in the study of the Lord’s Supper, our continual preaching of the gospel will inevitably bring us to worship God in a deeper way, both in spirit and in truth.

All posts in this series:

Baptism in Covenant Theology (part 6)

by Richard Shin

Before we close off this series, I thought it would be important for us to understand a little why so many Reformed Christians choose to baptize infants (versus believers) and sprinkle (versus full immersion).

To understand the theology behind paedobaptism (infant baptism), we have to understand the connection the adherents make between circumcision in the Old Testament and baptism in the New. Circumcision was a seal of the Abrahamic Covenant (Gen. 15 & 17). We learn more clearly from Romans 2:25-29 that the circumcision of the flesh always meant to correspond with the circumcision of the heart. Furthermore, the reading of Romans 4:11-12 seems to indicate that circumcision meant more than a symbol for the nation of Israel.

The crux of the connection between circumcision and baptism comes from Colossians 2:11-13. Paedobaptists see the transition from circumcision of the OT to baptism in the NT a natural conversion that carries equal weight. We see from Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians that some Christians were practicing both, but because circumcision lost its meaning for the Christians, it lost its place in tradition. The significance of circumcision as a physical sign of the Abrahamic Covenant reached all children of national Israel, not just the OT saints. This fact is shown through Abraham’s circumcising Ishmael (Gen. 17:22-27), even though Abraham knew that Isaac would be the one with whom God would establish His covenant (Gen. 17:21). So, there were clearly children who received the blessings of the covenant and those that didn’t, but all of them went through the act of circumcision. Similarly, there are those today who would undergo the physical act of baptism who would never reap the benefits of it.

As such, paedobaptists see no reason to exclude children (whose genuine repentance and faith are yet to be determined) from the ordinance of baptism. Because Abraham and his offspring were commanded to be circumcised regardless of age, it seems appropriate that the same principle would apply for baptism today as long as the parents are part of the covenant. The practice of sprinkling (as opposed to immersion) seems to have risen as a substitute practice for infants and toddlers who wouldn’t be able to hold their breath for the brief moment they are immersed. And one can imagine baptism candidates being sprinkled for lack of a body of water big enough to be immersed as well.

Of course, we at Lighthouse hold to credobaptism. I hope the articles preceding this one provided you sufficient Scriptural background and analysis for the defense of our position. But regardless of one’s stance on baptism—its qualification or mode—the most important fact is that all true Christians are brought together by repentance of our sins and our complete faith in Christ’s finished work on the cross. Only those who have lost sight of the bigger picture of the gospel would choose to break fellowship (treat as unbelievers) with those whose views on baptism differ. That isn’t to say we wouldn’t break fellowship with those who believe baptism actually does effect salvation in a sinner’s life. Whether elements of repentance and faith are present or not, if someone were to advocate a baptismal regenerative view of salvation, we would not accommodate such heresy into our fellowship.

Baptism in the Ministry of Peter (part 5)

by Richard Shin

Other than his sermon on the Day of Pentecost (which we looked at a couple weeks ago), there’s another passage in which we see Peter emphasizing the importance of baptism. The passage comes from Peter’s first epistle to the believers who were being persecuted throughout the ancient world:

Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers having been subjected to him.
1 Peter 3:21-22

At first glance, it seems rather odd, or even heretical, that Peter would teach that baptism saves the sinner from God’s wrath. We know today that the doctrine of baptismal regeneration (salvation through baptism) isn’t uncommon. Incidentally, the two verses most often used to support this heresy are from Peter (Acts 2:38 and 1 Peter 3:21). It definitely seems consistent in that Peter would teach the same doctrine in the beginning and towards the end of his ministry.

But is this really what he was teaching? To understand what Peter was instructing in 1 Peter 3:21, we have to first understand that there are a number of ways the Bible uses symbolic language to portray things which are mediated through for salvation. An example of this was looked at in the series of the Lord’s Supper. Specifically, in Matt. 26:27-28, when Jesus commands His disciples to “drink” His blood, he wasn’t literally telling them to drink His blood. Through a metaphor, Jesus called the wine His blood, which needed to be poured out in order for God to forgive us of our sins. When we eat the bread and drink the wine, we call to mind that He alone is the true bread and His blood is the true drink, and it is only by them that we have eternal life. Metaphorically, the cup and the bread procure eternal life. Likewise, Peter’s teaching in 1 Peter 3:21 metaphorically speaks the power of our salvation through the ordinance of baptism.

We also have to understand the context in which Peter wrote this epistle. As mentioned above, Peter was writing to those who were being persecuted for their faith (1 Peter 1:1-2). As such, the epistle is replete with references to suffering (e.g. 1 Peter 2:19-25; 3:14, 17-18; 4:13, 16, 19) and the hope we have in Christ (e.g. 1 Peter 1:3, 13, 21; 3:15). He even exhorts fellow brethren to rejoice in their suffering, that they ought to consider it a privilege to suffer for the sake of the gospel (1 Peter 4:16-19). Given this broader context, we can understand a little better why Peter wrote that baptism “saves.”

We have to first understand that Christ bore all our sins when He hung on that cross. The text in 1 Peter 3:21-22 says that the baptism did not remove “dirt,” or “sin.” Rather, we know that God has dropped His charges of condemnation against us because of Christ. Baptism represents the confident reliance on the judgment that Christ took for us, which judgment becomes our salvation. As a clear symbol of the saving reality, baptism stands as a perpetual witness to the historical substance of salvation and because of that connection is said to save us.

Baptism in the Ministry of Paul (part 4)

by Richard Shin

Last week, we learned the importance of baptism and how it marked a response of genuine repentance and faith in Christ and His finished work on the cross. Specifically, we did this through looking at the beginning of the Church in the life of the apostles. This week, we’re going to look at one apostle in particular, and how his life and ministry gives us further understanding of the nature and practice of baptism.

Paul’s conversion to faith in Christ is a remarkable miracle that resulted in a command from Christ Himself to be baptized (Acts 22:1-16). Specifically, it is recorded in verse 16 that Paul was to “rise and be baptized and wash away [his] sins, calling on [the Lord’s] name.” At first glance, this verse seems to tell us that baptism actively washes away sins, if called on God’s name. However, the washing away of sins is connected with calling on Jesus’ name. It’s more appropriate to understand this phrase as used in other passages. In Acts 2:21, we see Peter commanding others to be baptized “by calling on the Lord’s name.” This verse was an echo of Joel 2:32 where it’s stated that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.” It’s also cited in Romans 10:13, where Paul is instructing the Roman church that we are equal in light of our sinfulness and Christ’s righteousness.

The “calling” on the Lord’s name is the mouth’s expression of the heart’s conviction of total dependence. Paul knew that Christ’s resurrection represented the culmination of Christ’s atoning work. In his heart, he knew that Christ’s death was necessary for salvation. His baptism was a public witness to his cordial union with Christ.

Because of this strong image of death and resurrection in the act of baptism, Paul used it as a teaching tool in his ministry to the churches. When some were abusing grace because of God’s infinite nature to forgive based on Christ’s perfect nature, Paul rebuked the Roman church by reminding them that those who were “baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death” (Rom. 6:3-4). Our confession of baptism contradicts the false logic of continuing in sin.

Paul also taught that when we are baptized into Christ Jesus, we undergo a vivid reenactment of our participation with Christ in His historical death on the cross. In Galatians 3:27, Paul teaches us this idea when he speaks of baptism actively “clothing” us with Christ. Earlier, Paul had written to the Galatian church that we became sons of God not through our perfect observance of the law, but through faith in Christ Jesus (Gal. 2:16; 3:26). Paul had repeated in the same epistle that it was heretical to add a religious ceremony (circumcision) to the completed work of Christ (Gal. 3:1-5; 5:1-6). He insisted that from the cross of Christ flow all the blessings of eternal life and life in the Spirit (Gal. 3:13-14; 5:11; 6:14-15).

How odd, then, would it have been that Paul would emphasize Christian baptism as a requirement for salvation? After Paul’s insistence that faith comes through hearing and believing the message of the cross, it wouldn’t make sense that he would add baptism as a necessary component to that same goal. Instead, their baptism gave a physical presentation of the spiritual certainties involved in faith. Baptism illustrates the transaction that actually has already taken place. And when Paul speaks of “clothing” ourselves with Christ, he encourages us to remember that faith in Christ’s death alone is the means to salvation.

The interaction between faith and baptism is explained further in Paul’s first epistle to the Corinthian church. He wrote to the Corinthians saying, “Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power” (1 Cor. 1:17).

Baptism at Pentecost and in the Ministry of Philip (part 3)

by Richard Shin

Learning the role baptism played in the ministry of the apostles will shed light unto us how important baptism is as a response to conversion.

Jesus had ascended into Heaven after promising His apostles that the Father would send them the Holy Spirit (Acts 1:1-11). Jesus also told them that while “John the Baptist baptized with water, [the apostles] will be baptized with the Holy Spirit” (Acts 1:5). It’s interesting to note that when deciding on the twelfth apostle who replaced Judas, the apostles saw fit that he was there “with [the apostles], beginning from the baptism of John until the day [Jesus] was taken up from [them]” (Acts 1:21b-22). The priority that was placed in one’s tenure since John’s baptism reveals to us how significant John’s baptism ministry was.

At the Day of Pentecost, the Church Age officially started with the coming of the Holy Spirit as seen in Acts 2:1-13. It surely was a sight to be seen as the “mighty rushing wind” filled the house in which they were. And the apostles received “tongues as of fire” to speak in other languages that attested the “mighty works of God” (2:11b). Then Peter gave his first sermon, which recounted various passages and prophecies concerning Christ. Peter expounded the sovereignty of God and His perfect timing in sending Christ to be crucified on the cross for our sins.

In response to Peter’s powerful sermon, the apostles asked him what they should do. Peter answered them saying, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit” (Acts 2:38). We have to be careful here. Baptism doesn’t mean we attain our salvation; that is works-based salvation, a doctrine against which Paul strongly admonished the Galatian church (Gal. 1:9; 2:15-16; 3:1-9). In Peter’s first sermon, he was teaching the apostles that they had to repent for their sins and trust in Jesus Christ for the atonement of their sins. It’s recorded at the end of Acts 2 that those who “received his word were baptized,” indicating they understood and accepted the message of repentance before being baptized.

Philip’s ministry helps us understand the relationship between the kingdom of God and baptism. The kingdom consists of a fellowship of the redeemed on earth; they have submitted to Christ in His humility. Their public confessions that Jesus is Lord and their acknowledgement of faith in His work of justification are made in baptism. For this reason, when the Samaritans believed the preaching of the good news about the kingdom of God, their status as subjects of the kingdom was marked with baptism (Acts 8:12). When the Ethiopian eunuch encountered Philip on the road from Jerusalem, Philip made it clear to him that the passage from which he was reading (Isaiah 53:7-8) was about the good news of Jesus (Acts 8:35). Philip undoubtedly shared with the eunuch the importance and necessity of a convert’s baptism, the eunuch was compelled to get baptized in the next body of water they passed on his chariot. And we find that eunuch’s conversion and subsequent baptism brought him rejoicing (Acts 2:39), undoubtedly out of obedience to Christ’s command given from Matt. 28:19-20.

The baptism as seen at Pentecost and in the ministry of Philip teaches a particular pattern: genuine repentance involved knowledgeable dependence on Jesus Christ in His death, burial, and resurrection as the only hope of forgiveness of sins. As I mentioned last week, Jesus got baptized to effect His earthly ministry. Those who follow Him in baptism do so in the same confidence of Jesus’ unique qualifications and work.

Baptism in the Ministry of Jesus (part 2)

by Richard Shin

The Christian form of baptism finds its roots with John the Baptist in the Jordan River (Matt. 3:6). It was prophesied in the Old Testament that a “messenger” (also, “Elijah”) would come to prepare the way for the Messiah (Mal. 3:1; 4:5-6). This messenger’s ministry was validated by Jesus Himself in Matt. 17:11-13. John the Baptist’s specific life purpose was foretold by the angel Gabriel that he will “turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and go before [Jesus] in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared” (Luke 1:16-17). This is undeniable, Biblical proof that John the Baptist was the prophesied messenger that came before Christ.

So, why is John the Baptist’s ministry of baptism with water so important to our understanding of baptism? John preached “Repent, for the kingdom is at hand” (Matt. 3:2), but he did so while people came to him as they “were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins” (Matt. 3:6). His message of repentance and his ministry of baptism came hand in hand. His baptism wasn’t an end in itself, but rather a precursor to Christ (Matt. 3:11). The ultimate stamp of approval for John the Baptist’s legitimacy is the fact that Jesus Himself gives authority to the act of baptism by submitting to it (Matt. 3:13; Mark 1:9-11).

Jesus’ approval of John carried important value for the ministry of Jesus. John’s ministry acted as a launching pad for Jesus to begin His ministry. Indeed, all four Gospels recount the baptism of Jesus prior to His ministry. Jesus’ baptism indicated for Himself, like others, an entire consent of mind and heart to the truth of John’s message that Jesus was “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29) and that repentance marks the covenant people of God (Luke 13:3). Of course, baptism did not bestow upon Jesus any authority or status that Jesus Himself did not already possess; John himself also recognizes this when He asks Jesus why He is being baptized by someone as lowly as John the Baptist (Matt. 3:13). Unlike us, Jesus did not receive baptism as a testimony to personal salvation, but as confirmation of His personal commitment to effect it for others through his future baptism of suffering and resurrection to glory. He didn’t need to be baptized in the same fashion as we do because He was sinless; His baptism didn’t indicate repentance, but rather initiation of His ministry on earth. It’s interesting to note here that when Jesus was baptized, all three persons of the Holy Trinity were present with the Spirit descending from Heaven like a dove and the Father affirming His Son in an audible voice (Matt. 3:13-17).

We must pay particular attention to the fact that John’s baptism was different in nature than our baptism. We believe that Jesus died and rose from the dead to pay the penalty for our sins. Our faith is based on something that happened in the past. But Jesus had not been crucified before John the Baptist was beheaded (Matt. 14:1-12). So how could he baptize people for their trust in Christ’s finished work on the cross if it wasn’t finished yet? It’s because John’s message clearly demonstrated his trust in Christ’s atoning work. Every believer is marked by faith in God, pre- or post-Christ. John commanded his disciples to repent for their sins (Matt. 3:1-6), and he condemned the Pharisees and Sadducees for their lack of repentance and faith (Matt. 3:7-10). So, it is clear even from John the Baptist’s example that one had to already have faith for their salvation and therefore baptism.

We see from John 3:22-36 exactly what role John the Baptist played in Jesus’ ministry. Specifically from verse 29, we realize he is the “friend” of the bridegroom (Christ) who came to wed His bride (the Church). As he says this, he identifies himself as the friend who “rejoices greatly” and that that joy is “now complete” (John 3:29). As he concludes his ministry, he declares that Christ “must increase, [and he] must decrease” (John 3:30). This verbiage indicated that as John was stepping down from his ministry in baptism of repentance, He was ushering in Christ’s ministry who baptized with the Holy Spirit (John 1:33).

Introduction to Baptism (part 1)

by Richard Shin

A few months ago, we looked at one of two ordinances established by Jesus: the Lord’s Supper. We approached the ordinance from a Biblical perspective, laying aside the mindless traditions that have caused us to forget the significance of the Lord’s Supper. In the coming weeks, we’re going to look at the other ordinance—namely, baptism—with the same approach and hopefully reclaim the full meaning behind the ordinance.

To “baptize” someone in the Greek language literally means to “immerse” that person. But the Christian baptism signifies much more than the mere physical act of immersion. Much like the Lord’s Supper, we practice baptism because Christ Himself commanded it (Matt. 28:19-20). But we don’t do it merely out of duty to obey our Master; rather, we obey because we love Him (John 14:15). And as we’ll see in the coming weeks, there’s a striking parallel between both ordinances in that Christ Himself participated in both baptism and the Lord’s Supper.

At Lighthouse, each baptism candidate must take a baptism class where the candidate learns the fundamentals of baptism, such as why every Christian must be baptized and why we emphasize and practice immersion (as opposed to sprinkling). After the completion of the class and the candidate’s decision to proceed forward with the act of baptism, the candidate must share their salvation testimony. Afterward, the candidate proceeds to the baptismal tank at the front of the sanctuary where the administering pastor will provide a few words of encouragement and affirmation to the witnessing congregation. Then, the pastor will baptize—in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—the candidate by fully immersing the candidate in water.

It’s no mere accident that in Matthew 28:18-20 (also part of our MVP), Christ commands us to “go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.” It’s a package deal. Conversion and baptism are intricately linked and understood as a progression of one after the other. That is why it’s commonly understood by Baptist Christians that the first act of obedience as a new believer should be the purposeful act of baptism.

In the weeks to come, we’re going to look at baptism a little more deeply. First, we’ll look at the history of the Christian baptism, and how its significance sheds light unto Jesus’ ministry. Then, we’re going to understand how baptism was commanded in the lives of the apostles at Pentecost, and how one particular apostle—Philip—carried it out. Then we’re going to understand how baptism was taught by two very influential people in the early church: Paul and Peter. Through this, we’ll have a better understanding of how baptism serves the believer as a perpetual reminder of Christ’s finished work on the cross.