Review Essay, Keeping the Balance

The introduction of this review essay appeared in the Spring 2006 issue of Pneuma Review.

Phillip Duce and Daniel Strange, eds., Keeping the Balance: Approaching Theological And Religious Studies (Intervarsity Press, 2001), 238 pages, 9780851114828.

Approaching theological and religious studies at university-level can present Christians with some special challenges. Cherished beliefs will probably be called into question and deeply held convictions challenged in an intellectual environment that may prove ambivalent, or even rather hostile, to a biblically orthodox faith. In Keeping the Balance, seven substantial essays by seven Christian academics examine a number of issues that will be relevant to the Christian student—whether he or she is still thinking about taking his or her Christian studies to the university, or is already engaged in a degree.

The first thing to get clear from the outset is that Keeping your Balance isn’t a piece of scaremongery written to put people off taking theology! The authors are quick to affirm that theological study is a great adventure that offers some very real rewards—both to the individual who engages in it and the Church as a whole that benefits from an educated body of theologians in its ranks. It’s also an essential part of preparation for a solid Christian ministry. But we must be realistic: it’s a sceptical world out there, and many of the scholars that believers will brush up against in the book room, the lecture hall, and the tutorial, will approach the Bible and the Christian faith with a different set of presuppositions—and perhaps a pair of mean scissors in both hands! An unreflective, ill-prepared study of academic theology could undermine, rather than strengthen, the beliefs that form the very basis for Christian ministry, perhaps leaving students spiritually disorientated and incapable of fulfilling their originally intended vocation.

But the authors, whilst firmly countenancing these unpleasant facts, maintain that a “theological education, properly approached, need not have such undesirable results”. With some careful thinking about how students should deal with theological problems, maintain their devotional lives, and make use of all the information they are cramming into their heads every week, in practical and relevant ways, “keeping the balance” and successfully navigating the theological minefield is, in fact, quite possible. One of the recurring emphases throughout the book is the need for integrating one’s theological studies with one’s personal spiritual life, rather than holding them as far apart as possible. Whilst it may initially look like a “a recipe for disaster”, the authors are convinced that a healthy Christian life must be lived as an organic whole, not in a “Jekyll-and-Hyde” dichotomy! And that Christian devotional life, the Christian life of worship, and the Christian life of service, on the personal and the corporate levels, are all vital components of a sound Christian spirituality that must be kept up if students are to survive the course and emerge stronger and better equipped to reach the world.

Keeping the Balance, with its wide-ranging essays offering pertinent, practical advice and sound philosophical reflection, should help prepare evangelical students in the body of Christ to approach their studies wisely. If you are thinking of taking theology or religious studies at university, or perhaps know of someone who is, I would encourage you to get hold of a copy of this book. The Church needs good, bible-believing theologians, and bible-believing theology students need good, biblically sound advice, if they are to keep their balance!

A few comments on my summaries

As someone who is contemplating taking a theology degree—if not now, then perhaps some time in the future—my attention was immediately arrested when I came across Keeping Your Balance at my Christian bookshop. I already had some idea of the state of theology as a university discipline in the United Kingdom (and in general), but apart from a hazy awareness of critical problems with the university course’s content, which I knew would need supplementing and counteracting with solid evangelical teaching, I was not nearly so enlightened about the problems with a secular course’s context, or how to deal with it, which Carl Trueman explains so earnestly in the last essay of this informative volume. The modern university “has divorced theology from its proper place in the life of the church”, and this raises some more profound practical and intellectual problems for the evangelical theological student at university than the more obvious evils of higher criticism and liberal theology. The whole practical side of staying “spiritually healthy” was yet another area that I had given comparatively less thought to, and I was grateful for the authors’ insights here as well.

Knowing that a theological degree would probably entail 3-4 years of study, I decided not only to read Keeping Your Balance more than once, but also to index and summarise its contents, to help me get the most out of it and provide myself with a quick-reference containing many of the main points from each essay, which I could come back to again and again. Having created a book study forum, where books (and their individual chapters) can be reviewed, I decided to submit my summaries to the site when I had finished. It occurred to me, however, that a wider audience might benefit from them. Many Christians wonder whether or not to take a [widely] creditable theology degree at some point in their lives. Some are put off by fears and anxieties (and not, I think, without reason!), whilst others march headlong into the theological minefield with plenty of confidence, but not enough wisdom. Many Christians think theology ought only to be attempted in a private Bible college or evangelical seminary (there are no evangelical universities in the UK), whilst others point out that the evangelical church needs theologians with degrees from world-class universities and the Christians must be salt and light in the secular academic world too. In fact, retreating into our own “evangelical world” has really helped to pave the way for many of the problems committed Christians encounter at the university today. Clearly, the situation is complex and all of us can benefit from further information and advice. Keeping Your Balance, whilst it may not offer the reader any absolute answers of where (or whether) to study academic theology for certainly aims to offer them assistance in conducting their studies properly. In fact, most of and much of what it teaches is beneficial to any Christian who is simply carrying out his or her Christian duty to improve their understanding of Christian theology through extensive reading and study—even if that simply means one good book a week (or whatever you can manage), curled up in an armchair by the fire.

A word about these summaries, then: The first important thing I should like to mention is that they represent what I got out of these essays, not what I personally have to say about the different subjects they address. I have not intended to add anything much to, or offer any critique of, anything the authors had to say. I have merely tried to relate some of the various points they were making—hopefully without misrepresenting them in any serious way. Secondly, and more importantly, these summaries are not intended as a substitute for reading the book and studying the essays for yourself (though if you can’t manage to get a copy, I trust you will get something out of them). Almost all of the essays in Keeping Your Balance are rather substantial, containing more points and illustrations than can possibly be included in a 3-5 page synopsis. If you haven’t got a copy of Keeping Your Balance, hopefully these summaries will whet your appetite and give you a pretty good idea of what’s in it. If you have purchased a copy, then I hope they will help you remember some of the main points the various authors made, and perhaps encourage you to make notes and summaries of your own which will help you during your course.

I do not pretend that my summaries are anything special. I reflect on some of them with less satisfaction than others. Limited time and personal interest have played their part in shaping each of them, probably giving too much emphasis to some of the important things that were being said whilst overlooking or underplaying other major points which equally deserved a mention. It is only fair to advise the reader that these summaries are not especially polished or professional pieces of work and are doubtless open to criticism by anyone who has read the original essays and understood them better than this writer, or has at least had the time and wherewithal to arrange their reflections on them more carefully than I have. But I will not spend any more time apologising for the imperfection of my personal notes. At the end of the day, if you find any of them interesting and helpful, I encourage you to use them freely. If not, then you needn’t give them another thought.

W. Simpson

Approaching theological Study, David Field (25pgs)

Outline provided by the author

In the first essay, Approaching theological study, David Field (a former lecturer at Oak Hill Theological College, London) examines what sort of attitude we should have towards theological studies, our practical and devotional lives, our personal beliefs, other people’s ideas, and other people in general. Approaching theological studies with the right frame of mind is important if we want to be successful.

The subject of theology Field acknowledges from the beginning that a course in academic theology can leave people worse off than before. Among other things, the “contemporary theological atmosphere” is often hard for believers to breathe in. He is also quick to note that there are many successful men and women in the ministry who have not received any formal theological training. God uses all sorts of people, and that’s wonderful! Nevertheless, David Field believes that a theological education, when it is approached in the right way, can be extremely beneficial, and the educated theologian plays an important role in the Church. Theology, he reminds us, “is basically the attempt to think and talk about God”. Every Christian is, in that sense, a theologian and has a theology. Since we’re going to do theology anyway, Field believes we might as well do a good job of it! Indeed, without “a sound grasp of theological theory”, we run the “great risk of saying untrue things about God”. Throughout the Bible, God’s leaders, whether or not they were educated in the great academic institutions of their time, were “steeped in knowledge of the Scriptures”. Jesus’ own disciples were undoubtedly subjected to “rigorous, personal tuition in the great biblical subjects with which the theological student still has to grapple”.

Field admits that “there does seem to be a gap” between this kind of knowledge and much of what is included in a theological degree today, but he also observes that “in the long run the sole major academic criterion by which any theological theory can be assessed” are the facts and doctrines of the Scriptures themselves. Responsible students who attempt to grasp the different theories they are learning for their exams will also be “acquainting themselves thoroughly with what the Bible says”. Field has a problem with those who “want to be indoctrinated rather than educated”. Language study, church history, questions of dating and authorship, textual analysis and philosophical awareness all offer “important intellectual benefits which theological study, when rightly approached, will yield”. Field reminds us that we have been told to love God with all our minds. Jesus Himself encouraged people to think about His parable, and during their time with Jesus, Field is convinced that “the disciples” minds were stretched rather than straight-jacketed. Our “preaching and teaching will increase in value” as our knowledge of the Scriptures deepens and our intellectual abilities flourish. Academic theology should not be abandoned because it poses some challenges.

Approaching theology with an “open” (not an “empty”) mind Having presented a positive case for doing academic theology, Field’s discussion now turns to the subject of how we should actually approach theological study. What we mustn’t do is look at it as a kind of “spiritual survival test” where we “cringe from contact with anything that calls into question” any part of our faith and “reject all new ideas on principle&quot! Field rightly condemns the person “who deliberately presents a closed mind to distasteful teaching” as a “bad student”. However—and this is important—there is “a vital distinction” between being “open minded” and “empty minded”. Field explains: “A willingness to open one’s fundamental convictions to scrutiny is one thing. To be required to jettison the same after little or no examination in the name of academic integrity is something entirely different”. We are not required to empty our minds of our convictions and pretend that other people’s positions are as likely to be correct as our own. “To come to the Bible in an attitude of faith …is to be neither basically dishonest nor inevitably blind to other viewpoints”.

What we must adopt, however, is “an attitude of humility towards God as Revealer (and therefore of submissiveness to his revelation)”. This will afford us with two “practical controls” on our theological studies: To begin with, we will not be lured into thinking we know, or need to know, all the answers. Secondly, we will “take care to respect the limits imposed upon upon theology by the scope of revelation itself”. Field reminds us that “God’s revelation is strictly functional”; it is enough to enable us to live godly lives. On the one hand, we should not be “agnostic where God would have us certain”. On the other hand, we must “be careful not to stray beyond the data of revelation”.

Professionalism Of all the traps and snares the theological student can fall into, Field believes “the most insidious” is that of “professionalism”. He quickly explains that there isn’t anything inherently wrong in being a professional. However, there are important balances and adjustments to be made if we are to correctly assimilate our new professional knowledge and approach so that it helps rather than hinders. Awareness is crucial.

Relating to the Bible To begin with, theology students must appreciate that “the way in which they are required to study the Bible” has become “subtly but vitally different”. Before, they read the Bible as a “devotional handbook” and sought to apply God’s Word to life in a personal way. Now, the Bible has become an “academic textbook” to be analysed and dissected. These two approaches aren’t irreconcilable, but if students “fail to integrate their academic and devotional approaches to Scripture” they may fall into one of three destructive errors: One false reaction would be to “rebel against studying the Bible academically at all” and become “closed minded”. On the other side of the ditch, they may become so involved in their academic studies that the Scriptures cease to hold “any vital devotional meaning”. A third error, masquerading as the balanced middle course, would be to recognise the value of both approaches but try and “keep them as far apart in their own minds as possible”. Field believes the correct approach is integration: The Christian theologian must “take care to soak in the actual words of the Bible as well as the thousands of words written about it”.

Relating to people Theology students must also be careful about how they relate to and how they behave with other people. With all the knowledge they will be acquiring, it would be very easy for them to degenerate into insensitive bores and intolerable know-it-alls, “raising questions that no one else is asking” and putting people in their theological place! Field reminds the reader that doctrinal maturity is only one part of the Christian’s vocation. A good theological student will “maintain a humbly sensitive attitude towards others’ and learn to put their extra knowledge to the best possible use.

Keeping it all together: The dangers of specialism One of the fundamental dangers the theologian faces is losing sight of the Bible as a whole. “Even the average theological college course calls for a marked degree of specialization”. When the Bible becomes “fragmented” in our minds, it can also become disconnected from the practical and the devotional. Field shakes his head at the “theological boffin” who has allowed this to happen to him. A “Christian theologian is concerned with the communication of the whole biblical message to the world, as well as with the academic study of its constituent parts”. He warns us that “There will be many pressures on [theological students] to compartmentalize their lives, either by splitting away their academic interests from devotional and practical witness, or by erecting a barrier between their academic intake and their personal convictions”.

Pressure point 1: The academic and the devotional Keeping the devotional going, and keeping the academic and the devotional together, presents us with a special challenge. Theological students must remember that a university “exists to impart and further knowledge, not to convert souls or build up a Christian student’s devotional life”. It is “up to the Christians to recognise this fact” and “supplement their specialist academic training with disciplined devotional living”. Those studying theology “need more, not less, time for personal devotions”. Field makes some suggestions: the use of a devotional commentary and perhaps a different copy and translation of the Bible for devotional reading may help to make the “mental adjustment needed to look at a passage devotionally rather than academically” The goal, however, is “for individuals” to find out how “to integrate the two approaches to their own satisfaction, so that their devotional life is fed constantly with academic knowledge, and academic problems softened by being set in a context of humble prayer”.

Pressure point 2: The academic and the practical Another closely related split can take place between the academic and the practical. Field reminds us that, for Jesus’ disciples, “theoretical learning was never divorced from practical training in real-life situations”. Whether through the Christian Union at university or the opportunities afforded at a theological college, theology students must find ways of keeping themselves “earthed”. “Academic intake” must be balanced with “practical output”. “As far as the Christian is concerned, academic study will bear proper fruit only when it elucidates, not complicates, God’s truth”.

Pressure point 3: Academic study and personal belief Another challenge is the possibility of a clash between the teaching emphasis of the theological department and the student’s personal convictions—especially if they are not studying in an all-evangelical college. Field does not believe this will be a problem for everybody, since some will “thrive on the cut-and-thrust of fierce theological debate”. Others however, may feel “unbearable lonely and oppressed” and may attempt to “find refuge in a Jekyll-and-Hyde approach to their academic courses”. With the pressure on, they feel they must either change their theological position or live in a mental dichotomy where outwardly they go along with the teaching but privately “attempt …to keep their minds intact from what they are inwardly convinced is rank heresy”. Apart from maintaining Christian fellowship, Field’s primary advice in this regard is that they “spend as much time as possible, preferably before starting the course, mastering the main tenets of their own position, particularly the doctrine of Scripture which is nearly always the main debating-point”.

Personalia Having acknowledged and examined the particular dangers a Christian theologian may face in approaching his studies, which may give rise to various problems, David Field suspects that, in the end, many of the “technical difficulties” actually experienced by students are often due to “problems of personal adjustment”. The appeal of a particular theological system may have more to do with the charms of a particular personality than the individual merits of the case. The supposedly victimized student may simply be unable to take criticism. In this final section of the essay, David Field exhorts students to behave like true Christians, being humble, gentle, patient and loving. We cannot successfully approach our theological studies if we are not prepared to approach life itself as imitators of Christ.

A survivor’s guide: Things I wish I’d been told before studying theology, Laura Jervis (12pgs)

Outline provided by the author:

In this second essay, Laura Jervis, a graduate of St. John’s College in Oxford, offers some very human reflections on her own experiences at university and lays out a plan for staying “spiritually healthy” whilst studying theology. The style of the essay is decidedly more light-hearted and “studenty” than the other writings in Keeping the Balance, but Jervis is speaking student-to-student, and remembering not to take ourselves too seriously is one of her main pieces of advice.

She begins by reflecting, tongue-in-cheek, on some of the reasons we may have decided to choose theology as our subject. Whatever those reasons may have been (whether it was simply a desire to avoid anything with numbers or early-morning lectures!), Jervis believes “it is an amazing privilege to study theology”. However, academic theology “can pose problems for the spiritual health of the Christian”.

Jervis’ exploration of the difficulties Christians face can be roughly divided into two sections: problems of the head, and problems of the heart. She believes that if we are aware of those problems from the outset, and come armed with “some practical tips on how to survive”, then “our time of studying theology will be one when we reach increasing Christian maturity”.

The Problems

Problems of the head To begin with, one of the main problems in a theology course is the “huge amount of information about God” which you will be taking in on a daily basis. Knowledge about God is good, but knowledge of God is just as important. These are two different kinds of knowledge. “It’s like the two [French] verbs savoir and connaître“, Jervis explains. We need to know God personally, not just know things about Him. Our relationship with God and our relationship with other Christians will suffer–even die—if we allow our academic studies (our knowledge about God) to suffocate our devotional life (our knowledge of God). Jervis exhorts students not to “mix up those two types of knowledge” and to “Make every effort to be sure that you are getting to know God better as you study theology”. “A passion for God” and a “passion for theological correctness” are not the same thing. “Spiritual maturity is best measured by your prayer-life, your love for God’s Word and the extent of your daily obedience to it in the way that you live”. When we get this out of balance, we can begin to “look down on other Christians” who haven’t enjoyed our theological education. Worse still, we can find our “heresy-hunting antennae …twitching overtime” when we try to fellowship with them!

Another problem with receiving a surfeit of knowledge is that it can “go rotten and damage us spiritually”. Jervis believes that “if we are receiving a lot of knowledge and not putting it to use or doing anything with it”, that is precisely what will happen to us.

Problems of the heart Motives are another key area that need to be watched. Quoting extensively from J.I. Packer’s book, Knowing God, Jervis warns Christians against making biblical and theological knowledge an end in itself, divorced from any desire to actually know and experience and love God better. Packer warns that “if we pursue knowledge for it’s own sake, it is bound to go bad on us”, and Jervis suggests, rather disturbingly, that Jesus may have to turn away many an accomplished theologian on the judgement day with those awful words—”I never knew you!”

If there is a danger of corrupt motives, there is also a challenge to be faced when our motives are pure and our loyalties undivided. No one is free from presuppositions, argues Jervis, but if you choose to side in with the Scriptures on a particular question where more “fashionable scholars” have sided against it, “You might be made to feel stupid in front of your slightly sarcastic tutor” or “your tutorial partner’s patronizing smirk”. This is simply persecution, and we have been told to expect it. It is a question of loyalty, and we should take the “flak” and stick with the Bible. Jervis claims, “I never had to make myself believe something that flew in the face of all the evidence”. This isn’t about “blind faith”.

Practical Solutions: Six top tips on how to stay spiritually healthy The principle problems having been considered, Jervis now offers us a list of six “top tips” to bear in mind and put into practice as we engage in theological studies at university. We can divide her advice into the following categories:

A. The Introspective We need to maintain the right feelings and attitudes in ourselves.

— (1) — Don’t take yourself too seriously Jervis warns that “There are bound to be moments when you are thrown by your studies”—and if you aren’t sensible, you may start imagining that “the entire Christian faith is collapsing around you. It isn’t!” She assures the reader that, if they are patient, “the many things that baffle you now will soon fall into place.” Jervis unashamedly confesses that “To some extent I kept my academic studies and my Christian life at arm’s length from each other”. Although this may appear to contradict a point that is emphasised elsewhere in Keeping Your Balance, Jervis’ point is that you simply don’t know enough yet to try and deal with everything—be prepared to shelve some things and not worry about them.

— (2) — Be humble Jervis admits that “it is so easy to be proud and think that you are on some higher level than other ‘simple’ Christians who just read their Bibles”. In truth, you really don’t know all that much, and many of your ideas will be in a state of flux anyway as you progress through your course. Whatever you may achieve academically, you need to remind yourself that “if you are not living it out, and if you cannot explain the Christian faith to the other guys in your rugby team or to those girls on your corridor, then, as far as God is concerned, you are not a good theologian”.

B. The Devotional We need to maintain our relationship with God in the family of God’s people.

— (3) — Don’t let your personal time with God be squeezed out Regular prayer and bible-reading are very important. Jervis reminds us that the Bible is like “God’s love-letter to you”. We mustn’t lose sight of the reality of the things we are writing about. She suggests obtaining some reading notes that “will push you towards practical applications”.

— (4) — Seek out good teaching and Christian support You need to be among others “who love the Lord Jesus and who will support you”. Jervis advises getting involved with the Christian Union and trying to spend time with people who want to know Jesus better and live according to His word. In her case, she found it especially helpful to meet up with an older Christian on a regular basis to study a scripture passage and to pray and chat together. “You need other Christians”!

C. The Operational We need to do theology the Christian way.

— (5) — Find out about resources There are lots of good evangelical books written by credible authors that may not always appear on your reading lists. It’s good to find out about those and ask older Christians what books they found especially helpful when tackling various challenges.

— (6) — Always read the primary text for essays and pray for wisdom “To study theology effectively you will need to know what the Bible actually says!” It isn’t good enough (either for your exam or for your spiritual life) to simply “take on a load of second-hand ideas” about the Bible. “You still need the Spirit of God to help you understand the Word of God, and you need humility to take it on board and obey it”.

Evangelical Foundations for “doing” theology, Nigel M. de S. Cameron (31pgs)

Outline provided by the author:

The third essay focuses on Evangelical foundations for doing theology. Nigel M. de S. Cameron, a professor of theology, sets out to explain the proper methodology for studying God—something he believes evangelicals can do in a way no one else can!

The theological scene The essay begins with a brief statement on the contemporary theological scene. To put it bluntly, it’s a mess! “Professors and lecturers seem to arrive at a dozen different conclusions about God”. But why? Cameron contends that this is because today’s theological thinkers are beginning from a “a dozen different premises” and allowing “different methods to determine the course and conclusions of their studies”. The critical flaw is their arbitrary and selective character; they are only man-made attempts to improve on biblical Christianity. However, finding God really pivots on performing the right theological method. It is through the God-revealed scriptures that we are provided with God’s own appointed means of coming to know Him. A proper use of this divine resource enables evangelicals to “do” theology in a way no-one else can; because if historic Christianity be true, they are doing it the way God intended”.

What does theological method mean? Cameron defines the phrase “theological method” as “the special procedure whereby the study of God is properly carried on”. Although “theology proper”, he reminds us, “isn’t the study of humanity’s thought about God; it is that only in so far as it enables the theologian to study God for Himself”. And God “can be studied only if he has made himself known”. Of course, “the foundation of Christian theology is that he has done so”, and the proper object of the theologian’s attention is that revelation.

Where do we start? At this point, there is a distinction to be drawn between God’s “general revelation” in nature and God’s “special revelation” in Scripture. For Christians, the “principle focus” of revelation is in the later. Cameron makes a brief excursus at this point to clear up any confusion about the position of Christ as the revelation of God and the function of Scripture as the means by which we are taught about God, arguing that we cannot know Christ apart from the Scriptures and there should be no epistemological split between them. The Bible, existing as a collection of prose and poetry, words and sentences, is the object of our study.

Cameron goes on to consider several concepts in the Christian view of Scripture which are essential for pursuing what evangelicals believe to be the correct theological method:

Inspiration The first concept to be tackled is inspiration. What does it mean to say the Bible is inspired? Many non-Christians would, in fact, agree that the Bible is inspired work. Just like Shakespeare. However, “Historically, when Christians have spoken of the inspiration of Scripture, it is the Bible to which they have attributed inspiration, whatever may have been the talents and experiences of its human authors”. The Bible actually claims inspiration for itself. Anticipating the familiar argument of “circular reasoning”, Cameron rightly points out that it makes perfect sense, if we are going to make use of and make claims about the Bible, to find out what the Bible actually has to say about itself! “The fundamental problem of theology since the rise of the ‘critical’ view of the Bible, has been its attempt to use the Bible as the basis for theological statements while flatly rejecting the Bible’s view of itself”. The Bible considers itself “God-breathed” (the true meaning of the word sometimes translated “inspired” in 2 Timothy 3:16)—”the product of a specifically divine operation”. (Of course, “To speak of its origin in the mind and breath of God is not to speak of the method by which it came to be written”—an important point to which Cameron will return to again later on).

Plenary, or verbal, inspiration One of the first questions that must be asked, on ascribing divine inspiration to the Scriptures, is what is the extent of that inspiration? Does “the divine superintendence of their composition” really extend “right down to the form of words used by the human author”? Cameron believes so. He argues firstly that “Any claim we make about the book as a whole must hold good of its parts”. If the parts are not inspired, what is left? His second point is that the Bible itself claims an inspiration that extends down to the last “jot and tittle” (Matthew 5:18). He observes that “The New Testament, and in particular the teaching of Jesus, is full of arguments and expositions which depends for their force upon individual words and phrases in the Old Testament Scriptures”. Again, if we’re going to be consistent, we need to see what the Bible has to say about itself before we settle down to theologising from it.

Infallibility Another question that must be settled is this: given that all the Bible is inspired, is it all true? On the one hand, if the Bible isn’t infallible, “How may a book containing errors be the starting-point for our knowledge of God”? On the other hand, wouldn’t infallibility seriously detract from the “human” side of Scripture, which is evident,and which Christians maintain? Cameron now turns back to the previously suspended discussion of the origin of the Bible and the method by which it came to be written. There are two issues to note.

Firstly, to claim that the Bible is inspired is not to claim that it was dictated to a human typewriter. Claims about its origin and claims about the method of its production are not to be confused. Simply because the human writers were “consciously involved” in the composition of Scripture, but at the same time wrote down “precisely what God had intended that they should”, it does not follow that there was some high-handed “over-riding …of the personality of the human author. On the contrary, that very personality is the product of the careful preparation of the sovereign God”, who caused the right men in the right places at the right time with the right endowments and the right impulses to write books that He wanted to be written.

Secondly, it does not follow that “an infallible book, however produced [must] be a less than human work—because it is more than human”. To be fallible is not the same as actually making mistakes. The liability is not the same as the act. The fact that the Scriptures were written by humans does not prove that mistakes exist—it only proves that, in the absence of any other influence to prevent them, there might be. “But this corrective influence is supplied by the Divine element”.

Revelation Finally, if we grant that the Bible is inspired and inerrant, we have to consider its purpose before we try to theologise from it. “God ‘breathed out’ this collection of books” in order to reveal Himself, because humanity, through its fall, had lost its communion with God.

Thus “the purpose of Scripture is revelation, its underlying quality is that of inspiration, its function is that of authority for theology”—it exists for “mediating knowledge of God”. Consequently, the true method of theology “places itself at the end of the process of revelation as its recipient” and the “correct interpretation of Scripture is the reception of revelation”. Theology, that is, the study of God, “is the end and goal of all revelation, whether it is attempted by learned people or simple”.

Now we know where to start, how do we proceed? Given the varieties of interpretations among those claiming a high view of the Bible, it is clear that the evangelical doctrine of the Scripture is “insufficient in itself to distinguish between proper and improper interpretation”. You can prove anything from the Bible using the simplistic and naïve methods common to sects and some popular preaching.

Recognising the diversity in Scripture However, properly interpreting scripture is much more labour-intensive than the mere presentation of a Bible verse that literally expresses an assertion attached to it. Kuyper is quoted admonishing us that the Bible does not “intend to offer you the knowledge of God as bread baked and cut”! The details of its literacy and historical form, often neglected in bad theology, are the very “keys, given to us with the inspired text itself, with which we may open its truth”. The Bible, speaking to us “in divers portions” and “divers manners” (Hebrews 1:1; RV) is made up of history, poetry, ethics, prophecy and many other literary forms, all of which require a different approach and are bound by different rules of interpretation.

Recognising the unity in Scripture Cameron hastens to add, however, that there is unity in the Bible’s diversity. “If we have in Scripture real, irreducible pluriformality, as many writers would have us believe, then the task of reaching a unified theology and real knowledge of God must be frustrated. An authority that speaks with more than one voice must cease to be an authority—authority removes to the man who chooses which voice he will hear”. God, however, chose this collection of historically conditioned books from the pens of human writers as the form and medium for his self-revelation, and this God-breathed library finds its unity in His omniscient mind. Whilst we have a right and an impetus to engage in “the most detailed labours” to discover what book, chapter, verse—and even word—actually teaches, we also have “an assurance which becomes, for our study, a presupposition that because Scripture reveals one God it is an organic whole”.

Recognising the role of tradition There is a question of to what extent church tradition should control the formulation of theology. Protestants naturally tend to react against the Catholic emphasis on tradition, but, as Cameron explains, it would be a mistake to suppose that we must each begin afresh in our attempts to do theology. For one thing, it isn’t humanly possible! For another, it wasn’t what the Reformers did anyway. Furthermore, there is a broad area of fundamental agreement settled by the early Church which ought to be respected. We should also bear in mind that no single person is the subject of theology, but all thinking, regenerate humanity, and recognise that every theologian begins with the traditions he has been taught and the beliefs and creeds of his church.

Quoting Abraham Kuyper once again, Cameron argues that the correct procedure here is not to begin by doubting everything, but to start out from the assumption that one’s church is right, at the same time investigating it, and only opposing it when one finds oneself compelled to do so by God’s Word.

Recognising the role of salvation The next question Cameron considers is whether theological study is, in fact, merely an intellectual pursuit that can be successfully carried out by anybody. He believes not. God is not an object in creation that may be known with the mind alone, but the personal Creator and sustainer of all things. People who would know God must therefore open to Him their minds, their wills and their whole being. “Knowledge of God is no mere knowledge of facts”, Cameron explains, “it is knowledge of the one whom to know is life eternal. Knowledge of God is salvation. It is no more possible to know God apart from his revelation than it is to know the revelation apart from God”. This brings us to an interesting conclusion: “Christian theology, as the enterprise of knowing God, is for Christians”.

Since the knowledge of God is “ultimately personal knowledge”, does that mean the propositional or “factual” knowledge found in Scripture must be subordinated to the personal knowledge of Jesus Christ? Once again, Cameron insists that this is not the case. “Personal and prepositional knowledge need not be mutually opposed”. If we reflect for a moment on our knowledge of loved ones, we find that “personal and prepositional knowledge intermingle”. A purely “personal” knowledge devoid of factual or propositional content isn’t possible. The Scriptures supply the factual and proposition elements in the relationship that are needed.

Recognising the role of the Revealer (the Holy Spirit) Now that the question of personal knowledge has been broached, the illuminating role of the Spirit is considered. Cameron gives an illustration of a colour transparency, which must first be held to the light before the picture can be properly seen. Likewise, he explains, “It requires the action of the same Spirit who inspired the Scripture to illumine it, and in so doing to reveal the God behind it”. True, “it is by means of the activity of the intellect that knowledge of God is assimilated”, and we must not disparage what is “a supreme gift” from God. However, “theologians of all people most need the Spirit’s help”, shining through the words of Scripture and working within them, “opening their eyes and granting them the sight that is needed to interpret what they read”. An “unspiritual person” will invariably produce “a travesty of the knowledge of God”. Cameron also reminds us of the Spirit’s activity on the corporate level. “The Spirit also indwells the church, and since theology is a task for the church as well as the individual, we may expect to see the leading of the Spirit in the theological development of the church down the ages”. And “He is still leading the church onto fresh discovery, but always in the same Bible”.

Doing theological studies and doing theology proper Having explained the foundations for doing theology and outlined the method for proceeding, Cameron goes on to discuss how theological study is furthered—or potentially hindered, by engaging in theological studies. This is not merely a play on words. Doing academic theological studies at university may or may not serve the purposes of theology proper. Approach is everything. Theological students, who will be pouring over the thoughts of many theologians, must remember that “their object is not simply to learn the opinions of great and influential thinkers”, but to learn about God. “There need be no contradiction” in theological studies and theological study “if they bear their goal ever in mind”.

Apart from keeping their true goal in view, theological students must also contend with “a bewildering array of disciplines, apparently bearing little or no connection with each other”. Cameron reminds us that it is now a “century or more that has passed since the rise of the ‘critical’ view of Scripture, and the failure of confidence in Scripture as the rule of all thought about God, has witnessed the fragmentation of Christian theology”. Whilst theology ought to be a scientific discipline—”scientific in the sense that it is controlled by its object, and ever open to justification and correction by comparison with that object”, unfortunately, a lot of what passes for theology nowadays can have no more claim on our faith than poetry! However, looking on the bright side, “most of the usual theological disciplines have their origins in days when matters were different”. The evangelical student still stands to benefit from studying Greek and Hebrew and the other cognate languages, engaging in detailed study of the Old and New Testament and digesting historical discoveries, whatever their teachers may or may not believe. With all the wealth of knowledge, the “discipline of biblical theology” may then come into play to build up a picture of each book, each Testament, the Bible as a whole, and to formulate dogmatic or systematic theology, corrected and informed by ecclesiastical and historical theology, culminating in practical theology, applying God’s revelation to the individual and to the church. Evangelical students, amidst all the confusion of modern theology, need to keep their focus on developing their knowledge of God.

Faith and certainty, Stephen Williams (58pgs)

Outline provided by the author:

The fourth essay, entitled Faith and certainty, is by far the most complex and substantial contribution to the collection. It will not be possible to do more than sketch its basic outline here and give an overview of some of the arguments. Choosing to write “about the logic of certain aspects of believing and the logic of claims to certainty”, Stephen Williams acknowledges from the start that he is attempting to cover a large subject in a small space. I am not entirely sure he succeeds as far as clarity and simplicity are concerned. Faith and certainty seems to contain a great many “wheels within wheels”, and it is rather difficult—at least, on a first or even a second read—to ensure one has properly understood all the parts in relation to the whole. The essay’s preface, however; when used as an index during reading and as a final summary at the end, helps the reader draw the main bits of the discussion together.

What is Faith and certainty about? The problem the author sets out to solve is “the way in which we might justify our claims to be sure of that which we believe”. Williams observes that the “biblical witness evinces a tremendous confidence in the truth and certainty of its claims”. In a pluralistic society, however, “religious certainty is socially dangerous” and regarded as “intellectually unwarranted”. On the one hand, we don’t want to be justly “accused of false dogmatism”, by pretending to be “certain of things which cannot really be known”. On the other hand, we should not do “religion or Christianity an injustice” by tentatively advancing our faith in Christ “as a possibility”, when in fact, the apostles preached it with certainty. The goal, then, is “to find intellectual integrity in relation to Christianity”. The problem is how we are to get from probability to certainty without being arrogant and dogmatic. Stephen puts to the reader the following question: “If we have faith, is that something that falls short of knowledge? And if it falls short of knowledge, are we ever justified in saying that we are certain?”

Certainty in the Scripture Williams demonstrates from the scriptures that the early Church bears “witness to a faith which is assured and believes itself justified in being so assured”. He believes there are two primary sources of confidence from which these religious claims spring. “The first is the confidence that God exists”, rooted in the Old Testament. The New Testament “presupposes a theistic framework” and “no one tries to prove to the Jewish opponents of confidence …concerning Jesus”. There were those who had seen and heard Jesus during his earthly life and were convinced—especially after the resurrection. Their witness convinced others. But the question is, “Can our faith be formed in the same way?”

The method of approach: Coming to God through Jesus It is at this point that Williams selects and justifies his method of approach. A classic way of handling this question would be to “enquire first about the God of Israel and then about Jesus Christ”. Williams doesn’t dismiss this as one way of doing things. “There is, however, something to be said for starting with Jesus Christ”. Whilst it is true that His original followers who first believed in him did so presupposing the existence of Yahweh, is it not possible that “those of us who have not come up through Hebrew religion will be convinced about God by Jesus”—the One who is said to reveal the Father? This possibility will be considered. The approach has its advantages. “If we start with Jesus, we at least start with a concrete, historical phenomenon, a datum of history which we almost all agree to be given”. Thus Williams sets the stage for the rest of the essay.

The resurrection of Jesus “If the witness [about Jesus] comes to a climactic point anywhere, it is in the witness to the resurrection”. According to St. Paul, it is the pivot of the Christian faith (1 Corinthians 15: 14, 17). Clearly, “If Jesus really rose from the dead, then the whole affair seems to impinge dramatically on my existence”. But was He really resurrected?

In examining the witness to some event, we have to “ponder both the nature of the witness and …the character of the witnesses”. Williams considers the biblical witness to the resurrection and concludes that, at the very least, here lies serious “evidence which demands a verdict”. In a situation where “an alleged event is highly unusual and a witness reliable” we may “find ourselves in a quandary”. Having investigated the witness, “without insisting on forming beforehand our own definite judgments about those background beliefs” about God, the laws of nature, and the possibility of miracles, a “crucial question” must now be faced: is it “plausible to believe in the sort of God supposedly responsible for sending and raising Jesus”?

The existence of God and the person of Jesus We may seem to have come full circle. The evidence for the resurrection has forced us to a crises, but doesn’t belief in the resurrection require the assumption that God exists? And doesn’t that then mean that we must start with God, rather than Jesus, after all? Williams acknowledges that there are various “traditional arguments for the existence of God” that we might pursue. We can talk about design, moral law and religious experience, and these may lead us to conclude that God, in all probability, actually exists. However, “Among the traditional arguments for the existence of God …there have also been ‘historical’ arguments and these have had reference to Jesus”. These arguments “purport to show that some phenomena in human history constitutes evidence for the existence of God”. Williams recalls “the argument from miracles”, which infers the existence of God from the occurrence of miracles. The resurrection is, of course, a great miracle that has taken place in our human history, and its occurrence could be used as evidence for God’s existence.

But this surely brings us back to our old problem: we have been saying that we can only believe in the occurrence of the resurrection by assuming God’s existence in the first place! However, after offering an example, Williams observes that arguments can sometimes work in a different way: “When I say that I can believe that ‘x’ occurred only if I assume ‘y’, does not stop me from using ‘x’ as evidence for ‘y'” So whilst on the one hand “I may grant that I can never believe in the resurrection unless I make the assumption that there is a God”, on the other hand, my “studying the witness to the resurrection may press me towards that very assumption”. Certainly, “What study of the resurrection reports forces me to do is to consider rather seriously the question of God”, and more so than many other things that might, simply because “the very specificity of Jesus and of resurrection claims sharply focuses the belief that there is a God at work in the world”.

Williams goes on to say that “it is usually conceded that none of the so-called arguments for the existence of God actually offer proof of his existence” anyway. In fact, he believes “the whole enterprise, almost by its definition, is precarious and unlikely to yield anything conclusive, certainly not for the unphilosophical”. This does not mean that “the whole exercise is completely valueless”, but we need something more solid and dependable. Williams notes, however, that “arguments are very often attempts to turn intuitions into demonstrations”. The arguments may fail, but we often feel justified in reformulating them or trying something else again and again, rather than abandon our original conclusion. These “underlying ‘intuitions’ …often precede and survive arguments”. They are worth considering for a moment, as they could shed some light on our path.

Williams suggests that, when people approach the subject of God’s existence, for example, they come with what “amounts to an overall impression” about the issue—”a kind of judgment about the whole”, rather than a detailed analysis of the parts. Reason is fully involved in forming that judgment, but “it is not really a formal and logical deduction”. Here is “an interesting and crucial reality in our ‘epistemic’ functioning”, and it also applies to “our perceptions of and dealing with other people”. Williams observes how “our insights or intuitions about people can be frighteningly near the mark and are certainly not irrational, but they cannot be explained easily by analysing logical processes”. The point here is that when we are trying to understand other people, just as when we try to think about religion, “we must make room for intuitive judgments or insights”.

And herein lies the problem with some of the traditional arguments for God’s existence: “they treat God as though he were not a living, personal being to whom we are personally related, but as an object whose existence and nature is subject to disinterested scrutiny”. If we are going to understand people, Williams argues, it must be “within a certain context of relationships”, and the best context for understanding them is one of “willingness to learn and to serve, of humility and of love”. We find then that understanding involves “the disposition of the heart” as well as the function of the mind. Personal attitudes “can cloud or advance our understanding”. Consequently, we are justified in asking, “If there is a personal God, why should we believe that we can advance far in knowledge and understanding by purely intellectual processes?”

Of course, we haven’t yet resolved the question of whether or not there is a personal God, so is there really any point in talking about “attitudes of humility and so on in relation to the knowledge of God”? Williams replies with a resounding “yes”! For “according to the Christian witness, if the reality of God’s personal being comes in to view at any point, it is with the person of Jesus”. “If God is known supremely through Jesus, then we approach the knowledge of God by approaching Jesus”. This is the door that Christianity offers the world. It is here that we must knock. In knocking, we may find that there was nothing behind the door after all, but “this is certainly the direction in which we must now turn”.

Approaching Jesus as the way to approaching God Here is the logic, then: Jesus is said to reveal God. “Jesus was a person. He can be understood, if at all, only in the mode of personal knowledge. We have found that this is bound to require a certain disposition of the heart. It follows that if our enquiry about God takes the form of an enquiry about Jesus, it requires a certain disposition of the heart to conduct it aright”. Approaching Jesus is the next thing we must consider.

Jesus reveals our spiritual alienation But doesn’t this present us with a difficulty? “Understanding a person requires knowing something about a person” and, as Williams explains, “Jesus as he was is hidden from view, available only according to the impression he made on disciples and believers who do not pretend to be dispassionate”. But whatever else may be said, the gospels do contain certain historical reports that facilitate us with some important personal knowledge about Jesus. Something highly significant that emerges is the fact that, not only is Jesus presented as sinless, He actually pronounces forgiveness of sins directed against God (implying his deity)—rather extraordinary things for a religious Jew, very much conscious of the distinction between a defiled humanity and a holy God. On examining the accounts, it would seem that, in the end, the only good reason we have for rejecting this testimony is “the difficulty of believing that Jesus forgave as he did”, for if that is the case, then “what are we to make of him”? We might have lived with our own “imperfection”, but Jesus’ sinlessness and His assessment of our own spiritual state are hard things for us to swallow. “He places the whole question of the relationship between God and ourselves in the most serious conceivable moral context”. It becomes apparent that our own moral condition is at the root of our intellectual perplexity. “There is an epistemological difficulty”, Williams concedes, “there is a problem of religious knowledge, but it is generated by a spiritual condition”. The demands on the heart have intensified. “If there is a God to be known through knowing Jesus, God cannot be known without a certain attitude to Jesus”. More must be said about that attitude.

Jesus brings our actions to judgement Williams’ discussion goes on to consider how the portrayal of Jesus as “the man of action”, united in the will and the word of God, “reveals the inner fragmentation of our lives”, illuminating our true condition and pressuring us to acknowledge our need for inner healing and forgiveness. We have a problem successfully harmonizing action and knowledge. “What we morally ought to do or to be, we find ourselves unable to do or to be”. Jesus does not.

Williams explains that “However much the head may wish to suspend belief, life involves commitment to action, no matter how uncertain we are of our convictions”. Both “inaction” and contemplation may be viewed as forms of action; we are always doing something with our time. A person may be in a moral dilemma about whether or not to have an abortion, but in the end she must either choose to have one, and get it over with, or not. Our action is “in some sense inevitable” and “in some sense committed”. We are “bound” to it. And Jesus’ action effectively judges ours, “not because Jesus is sniffing out the weakness of inferior spirits, but because he is bound to act, as we are, and by the nature of his action he seems both to parade the high vocation of humanity and to convict us of our own failure”. If, at the very least, we grant compassion a high, if not the highest moral worth, we are undone. Shouldn’t our lives “be suffused with it”, then? “For anyone willing to exalt compassion and face the facts, it appears that Jesus possesses an integrity, in the sense of a unity of conviction, will, intention and action, that we do not have”. In this man, “sinlessness and integrity come together, as we realise that our disunity is not there in terms of sinlessness but in terms of concrete integrity of conviction and action, it is different. We feel not only something amiss, but something deeply fragmented in our humanity, something that needs healing”. Williams does not think it is plausible to say that Paul and the others baselessly supposed there was in Jesus “an integrity and influence that moulded them according to his perfection”.

The will to understand and the problem of scepticism The next point Williams considers is the human will—specifically, how the human will relates to our understanding. When we reflect on the matter a little, it is evident how easily the will can dictate the course of our reason. We wish to go on living in a certain way, and so choose to turn a blind eye to things that may, when duly considered, compel us to make a change. I wish to come to a particular conclusion—perhaps about my responsibility to give away more of my money—and so I look for arguments to persuade myself. Perhaps I know something to be wrong, but choose to yield to it anyway, and “the more I yield, the less the conscience protests”, and “the more open I am to the intellectual persuasion that, after all, it may not be unethical”. It is plain that “the will is fundamentally involved in our assessment of the claims of and about Jesus”. Christ “calls for a personal revolution that transforms my practices and my allegiance. If I admit his moral authority, let alone his claims to be speaking for God, I am bound to change my life or at any rate stop justifying my failure to change my life”. In short, we cannot approach the question of Jesus, or indeed, the question of God, “in a disinterested way”. We may not want to believe in Him. We bring with us a hidden agenda. Williams hastens to add that not all lack of faith or certainty should be attributed to unsound motivation. But there are two basic points to draw out of this discussion: Firstly, it would be a mistake to “assume that epistemological issues are just intellectual issues”. Secondly, where Jesus is concerned, “the issue at stake is profoundly existential and not dispassionately cerebral”. And now we have a new problem: “If most, if not all, of us approach these issues with our hidden agenda, can we settle arguments on the objective level at all?” Are we, in fact, “doomed to scepticism”?

Dealing with scepticism and arriving at certainty In response to the challenge of scepticism, Williams identifies two routes we may take to respond to it. The first is to “ask whether quite generally, our scepticism is warranted”. The second is to ask whether religion itself has any resources to respond to it.

In considering the first question, Williams looks at the world of moral notions. Are they arbitrary, or can we know that something is right or wrong? Responding to moral relativism, he observes that the statement that all moral truths are relative is a dogma, and asks why we should accept a dogmatic assertion that all truths are relative. He notes that people who are relativists in theory do not adhere to it consistently in practice. A majority share certain practical convictions, and it seems reasonable to maintain that we have some moral knowledge. The denial that we have any would appear to rest on two false notions: firstly, “an unduly restrictive notion of what counts as knowledge”, and secondly, the idea “that knowledge is the kind of thing we need to justify intellectually, whereas doubt is always intellectually respectable unless we can argue someone out of it”. Williams suggests that “the reasons for seriously doubting the wrongness of torture are far weaker than the reasons for accepting the correctness of our moral apprehension.”

In considering the second question, Williams observes that if indeed nothing can be known by us, this places a restriction not just on human abilities but upon God’s. “If we say, ‘We can know nothing’, what we are really saying is that ‘there is no God with a capacity for communicating anything to us so that we can know it'”. Consequently, “scepticism turns out to be dogmatic not just in general (when someone says that nothing can be known) but in religion in particular (there is no God of this kind)”. Noting that the issue would seem to turn then on whether we have grounds for supposing there is such a God, and that this is what we have tried to indicate, Williams argues further that if we have “knowledge of things invisible” in the moral sphere, “we cannot rule out such knowledge in religion …just because it trades in thing not provable by the senses”. Moreover, in Christianity, the source of moral knowledge and our conviction is God, and clearly, “what we apprehend when God communicates something has every entitlement to be labelled ‘knowledge'”. According to the biblical witness, “assurance and knowledge come from God himself by the Spirit”. This does not mean we are adopting an “irrational or supra-rational ‘anything goes'” mentality. Rather, we are recognising “the distinction between the logical grounds for our belief and the existential cause of our certainty”. Reason, on its own, can only show that our claims to revelation are probably true—it cannot very easily produce certainty. So this is how we do our epistemology: “we should hold together the grounds and reasons on the one hand and the certainty on the other”. “We conclude simply this. It is through the Spirit that we may be assured and know the truth of what we believe as we reflect on the biblical witness. We can have faith and certainty”.

Why isn’t everybody certain? The logic of Christology. It may be reasonably asked that, “if there is a God who wants people to know of his existence, nature and purposes, would he not have made himself clear”? In other words, “would not religious certainty be our common experience”? It is true that “neither divine inability nor divine unwillingness fit in with a Christian view of God as personal”. But does it necessarily follow that if there is a personal God he would be universally known? Williams doesn’t pretend to provide a comprehensive response to this question, but some important points are made:

To begin with, assessing “the breadth or nature of religious conviction” is difficult because people may hold beliefs or know things that they do not disclose to us. People may, in fact, persuade themselves of something so thoroughly that, on a conscious level, they believe it, and it would require “some unusual confrontation, trauma or therapy to reveal something suppressed”. There is also something fitting about the fact that God can be hidden as well as revealed: “there is enough light for those who really seek God to find him, but God does not reveal himself to everyone, being hidden from those who do not seek him”.

A significant barrier, however, to receiving the knowledge of God, is what has commonly been called “the problem of pain”. “For many people, suffering or evil is hard to reconcile with the existence of God, but if God himself is immune from suffering, the situation becomes intolerable”. But supposing God is personal, He wants to show Himself, and He is concerned to share in human suffering. True, He might communicate with everyone to tell them that He is personal and assure them the He suffers with them. But, as Williams observes, we might just turn around and say “Prove it!” What, then, would be the highest proof? “The highest proof”, Williams concludes, “is to make a personal entry into his own world in human form, if that is possible, to show through humanity his own being and nature and to suffer as a human being”. Of course, this would mean restricting himself to a particular space and time. (It makes no sense to talk about doing it over and over again, for God as man could only be in one place at one time anyway, even if He incarnated Himself more than once in human history. And this is to say nothing of the Christian doctrine of a once-for-all supreme act of atonement). So the apparent arbitrariness of God—namely, “special revelation in particular space and time”—turns out to be the very “condition of revealing his nature and sharing human suffering”. And what better way of telling all of us about this “historical appearance” than by someone writing it up? It turns out then that “when people believe in an incarnation and in its testimony in Scripture, it has a logic to it which we can describe in response to those who say that if there is a personal God, everyone would be sure of it”.

Summary If we reflect for a moment on the ground that has been covered, the thoughts run together something like this: When we looked at the witness to the resurrection, we discovered “evidence that demands a verdict”. When we enquired about God, we found that, if He exists as Christianity believes Him to—if He is personal—we must approach Him personally in order to learn about Him. This requires a certain “disposition of the heart”. The historical person of Jesus provides us with “the point of approach”. When we approach Jesus, we find that, “As one who forgives, he identifies the fundamental religious condition as one of spiritual alienation”. This is “the root cause of any intellectual perplexity” on our part. “As one who acts, he brings our actions to judgment” and reveals the “inner fragmentation” of our lives. It became apparent that “we are incapable of understanding religious faith, certainty or claims to knowledge if we disregard the question of our personal, spiritual disposition”. We cannot arrive at faith and certainty by merely pursuing an intellectual exercise. From an intellectual point of view, we found there was no need to dismiss the possibility of religious knowledge. We concluded, however, that certainty was ultimately the gift of the Holy Spirit, though we are willing to give grounds for our belief. “Ask me why I believe what I do”, Williams writes, “and I point to the record of Jesus; ask me why I am certain in my belief, and I must bring in the self-testimony of the Spirit of God”. We discovered, however, that God wasn’t intending to limit religious knowledge to just a few. But by becoming one of us in order to identify himself with humanity, He was “inevitably …confined by that incarnation to a particular space and time”. However, every step was taken, including the creation of translatable scriptures and a missionary community, to make sure that “knowledge of God [was] not limited to that particular space and time in which he became incarnate in Jesus Christ”.

Maintaining an integrated devotional life, David Cupples (42pgs)

Outline provided by the author:

Introduction Beginning with an inspiring quotation of Spurgeon reflecting on the discipline of theology and its vitalising effects upon the spiritual life, David Cupples observes that many people who take up the subject today experience something rather different. “None of us would doubt that he is right”, Cupples writes, “but then he wasn’t studying in our faculty, or our department!” Nevertheless, David believes our studies can indeed “lead us into a deeper experience of God …if we approach them in the right way”. He believes that “true theology is always a prelude to doxology” and his aim “is to convince you that Spurgeon is not hopelessly idealistic”.

The Challenge of studying theology today It has to be admitted that many students who embark on theology today become “totally disillusioned”. Evangelicals often find that “their evangelic faith is not so much questioned as dismissed”. The lecturers are learned, detached and sceptical. The authority and trustworthiness of the Bible is undermined and the clarity of its message becomes obscured by “a bewildering variety of interpretations”. The young Christian faces a challenge where “the ‘Sunday-school faith’ will no longer do”. It will have to be replaced.

Admitting that “while in one sense this challenge is a problem”, Cupples believes it can also be seen as “an opportunity”. “There is no growth in faith without questioning, heart-searching exposure to objections to our position”. It can lead us to discover the foundations of our faith—the reason for our hope (1 Peter 3:15). An “integrated view of faith and study” is required, but before this can be outlined, several inadequate responses to the challenge must be expounded and dismissed.

Differing responses to the challenge 1. Submission The first response Cupples considers is that of submission. People “either abandon their former faith completely or change it into something quite different”. The believer, quite simply, “had no sure and sufficient reasons for what he or she believed”.

2. Repression Another response people make is to try to ignore radical views and suppress any problems by “dismissing all unwelcome questions from their minds”. An understandable attitude, but not one that should be condoned, being both “emotionally dangerous”, “intellectually indefensible”, and “spiritually inadequate”. Cupples argues that “a faith never exposed to trials, whether practical or learned, will be weak and artificial”.

3. Segregation Segregation differs from repression in that, whilst repressors simply fail to attempt to integrate faith and studies, segregationalists do not even perceive the need to do so. They live in a dichotomy where their faith is detached and maintained in isolation from their studies. This “polarization of academic and spiritual life” can occur in varying degrees and it raises a very important question: “what is the nature of true spirituality, authentic Christian experience?” It is evident that the segregationalist’s faith is rooted in experience and emotion—a form of religious existentialism where “the mystical element predominates”. Quoting Francis Schaeffer, Cupples explains that authentic Christian spirituality includes experiential relationship with God, but that “the basis for our faith is that certain things are true”. In other words, it is “content not experience” that should form the base, and the intellect is very much involved.

Cupples goes on to consider the implication of “a spirituality where the mind is partly disengaged, or even despised”. His conclusion is that it is dishonouring to God, who gave us our minds; disobedient to Christ, who commanded us to love God with the mind; dehumanising for men and women, whose ability to reason is an important aspect of the image of God in them; and destructive of a Christian world-view, which “seeks to unite all the phenomena of experience into a coherent and consistent overall interpretation of reality”. This division of reality into two autonomous realms—reason and religion—basically denies the doctrine of creation “which demands that all things must be related to God their Maker and therefore to each other”. It reduces faith to “an irrational leap into a religious experience, a step into the dark rather than into the light”. It divides faith and history too, preventing the gospel from saying anything meaningful about the later, “when in fact there is nothing more central in the whole biblical message”. Another consequence of this position is that biblical language is emptied of its objective content. In short, segregation is not an option for Christians. Authentic Christianity “involves us in a relationship to God’s work in history and to the truth revealed about life in God’s Word”. “Personal salvation, and love for God, are rightly understood only in this wider setting of Christ’s Lordship over all aspects of life”.

4. Integration Integration “seeks to find a way of harmonizing our academic and devotional reading of Scripture”, offering “a perspective in which they are complementary aspects of a consistent attitude toward Scripture as the Word of God”, uniting “mind and heart, theology and experience, life and learning in a vision of the commitment of the whole person to Christ”. This, Cupples contends, is the only response that is biblically sound, intellectually honest, and spiritually healthy. The remainder of his essay is devoted to “expounding the way of integration”.

Devotional and academic study placed in perspective If devotional and academic study of the Bible are to be integrated, Cupples must find their common ground. And since he does not plan on ditching both terms and reducing them into more or less the same thing, he must also identify acceptable differences between them.

No ultimate, absolute distinction He begins by reflecting on the primary purpose of the Bible. It was given “that we might be brought to that knowledge of God and of his Son Jesus Christ which is eternal life”. It shows us “how we might glorify God and live in a right way before him”. He arrives at the conclusions that “scripture is central in our faith and devotion”, that it is “sufficient for its purpose” (which is to provide the true knowledge of God) and that it is “clear in its main message”, which is only what we would expect if the Bible is given to reveal to us the way of salvation. He attaches certain caveats to each one of these assertions. The essential point, however, is that Scripture is “the vehicle of the divine revelation” for the purpose of bringing us to know God. “To approach the study of Scripture on any other terms is to come to God in the wrong attitude”. We must come to receive God’s self-disclosure in reverential faith. Consequently, “the principles of our Bible study must then be as consistent as the principles which govern our whole relationship with God”. This means that there can be no “absolute distinction” between “academic” and “devotional” study of the Bible, for both should be seeking to receive and revere its message, which entails an involvement of both heart and mind, “always seeking to uncover the true meaning of the text”.

An improper distinction between academic and devotional Bible study Cupples concedes, however, that “how we treat Scripture in class and in our private devotions” is different. “There are real differences in approach to Bible reading”. The question is, “how can we distinguish the two emphases yet insist that in practice they ought to be inseparable”. A common and, Cupples believes, an unhelpful distinction, is grounded in the method or principles of how we interpret the text. Academic study is said to use “the scientific method” and devotional reading is expected to adopt “a kind of ‘intuitive’ approach” (which, perhaps, is seen to hold the monopoly on “spiritual value”). Cupples objects to this distinction because “it places them in too sharp an opposition and makes them both dangerous”. Academic study becomes dead and devotional reading becomes fanciful.

Proper distinctions between academic and devotional Bible study The proper distinction, Cupples contends, lies neither “in the principles of interpretation …[nor] in the ultimate purpose of Bible study”, both of which must remain the same at all times. The real difference lies in their “immediate purpose” and “intended effect”. In academic study, the “main emphasis” is on “deepening our understanding”; in devotional study, on “restoring our daily fellowship with the Lord”. Both involve the mind, faith and a proper interpretation of scripture. Both build up our knowledge of God, but at different “levels”. Cupples identifies four main factors that determine the character of a particular Bible study: Our “setting” is one of them. In class we may be defending our view of the Bible; in church we assume it. The actual passage of scripture is another. “Different kinds of literature in the Bible will have a different purpose and effect in building up our relationship to God”. Whilst all scripture is inspired, “it is not all equally inspiring”! The level of our investigation is a third factor. Roughly speaking, in class we are mainly asking the question, “what did it mean then?”; in our personal study, “what does it mean to me?”. Both levels should inform and enrich one another. The final factor Cupples identifies is the area of application. He breaks this down into two main categories: dimensions of life and dimensions of our relationship to God. Regarding the former, he reminds us that we are not just distinct individuals but “part of a network of relationships that extends to the whole human community”. God’s Word must be applied to all these dimensions of life and their facets in order to form a truly Christian outlook. Regarding the later, we have a relationship with God that should deepen and develop over time. In both these areas, there is “micro-level” and “macro-level” growth. Our devotionals effect change at the “micro-level”, keeping heart and mind “in tune” with God on a daily basis. But “issues we only touch on in devotional reading we may cover systematically in academic study”, gaining a coherent, overall grasp of Christian life and doctrine. This is “macro-level” growth. But this “macro-level growth” also “feeds into our daily communion with God”.

At this point, Cupples reminds us that there is one overwhelming factor which determines whether or not God will be pleased by our studies, and whether or not they will benefit us. That factor is a genuine hunger for God. Without it, “all our study will just accumulate knowledge that will stagnate and lead to pride and deadness of soul”. How theological students can “maintain passion and vitality in their spiritual life” is the next question to which Cupples turns.

Maintaining the spiritual life “The more important devotional exercise for every Christian, including students of theology, is daily time spent alone with God in meditation on Scripture and in prayer”. Theologians mustn’t think they are above the ordinary means of making spiritual progress or keeping the fire burning. In fact, Cupples believes a “quiet time” is more important for theologians than anyone else, since their studies can breed spiritual weariness. Although this practice may not be explicitly taught in scripture, “it is a well-tried and tested tradition” and several arguments can be advanced in support of it. Firstly, there are examples in the Bible of people praying daily or withdrawing in solitude for intimate time with God. Secondly, Cupples believes there is a principle that “by the consecration of one special part, it becomes possible to consecrate the whole”. If we give God “the firstfruits of our time”, we will then “be able to reclaim the whole day for him”. Thirdly, it is general knowledge that “no relationship develops without planned meetings and activities”. Keeping a “daily appointment with God” is not “legalistic bondage”, but “voluntary discipline”. We need conscious fellowship with God, offering Him our thanksgiving and worship, and pausing in the day for confession, consecration and meditation. The Christian life is “more than a system”, it is a living relationship and a “personal knowledge of God” that “must be kept fresh” by a “a definite time of directness and openness with God”.

Of course, reading the Bible will be an important part of this quiet time. Cupples offers five points he believes students of theology need to remember in this matter: Firstly, they should pray for a spirit of expectancy. The constant handling of the scriptures can desensitise us to the great truths within them. “We need to ask God earnestly that his Spirit will make the Scriptures live to us, that we will hear the voice of God as we read in spite of all our weakness”. God is not limited by our frailty. Secondly, they must remember that the same principles of interpretation apply at all times. “Devotional reading is not an excuse for reading into the Bible whatever we like”. Thirdly, they should read large portions of the Bible. In our studies we can get bogged down in details over particular passages. Reading larger portions, however, can help us re-establish “our sense of the unity of the biblical message”, keep “the great fundamental truths” in mind, and help us “put other matters in perspective”, whilst we “find ourselves gripped again by the grand sweep of the history and message of redemption”. Fourthly, they should read passages not being studied in class. This is simply because it can be harder to come to a book with enthusiasm in our private devotions when we’ve been flogging it to death for weeks in class! Finally, they must learn the practice of meditation. It takes time to digest things spiritually.

Handling critical questions Challenges to the Bible’s authority Of course, an essential part in achieving integration is learning how to respond to critical theories that challenge our high view of Scripture. Cupples believes it is “not dishonest to disregard critical questions in the ‘quiet time’ provided you are not disregarding them in the classroom”. And we do not need to “immediately suspend” an original belief or position just because we haven’t got “an instant solution”. Cupples goes on to consider how there is room for refinement and maturity of our doctrine of scripture without abandoning our original high view of inspiration. Many problems we can answer, some we will have to shelve, but we will not be able to clear up every problem in our lifetime—we are finite creatures who must learn to live with some uncertainties. We should seek help in our efforts, but even though there will be some things we cannot explain, as with the doctrine of the incarnation there are compelling reasons for believing in spite of all that. Belief still turns out to be more reasonable than unbelief, and there is the confirmation of experience of the power of scripture to add to our faith. Experience cannot stand on its own, but it can confirm or weaken beliefs. Seeing the Bible fulfil its claims in our lives is an important part of our conviction.

Doubt Cupples acknowledges that “the initial impact of religious studies can lead us to doubt many things—our beliefs, ourselves, our God”. But in all this, he reminds us, God has not forsaken us nor will he allow us to be tested beyond what we can bear (1 Corinthians 10:13). We will come up again.

Challenges to the Bible’s clarity Another problem students may face is “a loss of confidence in the clarity of the Bible” as we become aware that “there are many more possible interpretations of some passages than we had thought previously”. We will also find that some of our previously held interpretations were wrong. Cupples doesn’t believe this is necessarily a bad thing. We ought to come to the Bible with humility, ready to be “taught, rebuked and corrected”, and we should learn to be “more rigorous and more cautious” in just how much we deduce from a certain passage. He also reassures the reader, from the Bible, that those who humbly and obediently seek God’s truth will not be disappointed and that getting into the author’s head and seeing with his eyes and feeling with his heart is ultimately the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The problem of intellectualism. Going beyond your studies. Doing theology can lead students into an unbalanced preoccupation with the doctrines of Christianity. They can neglect God Himself and become cold, detached and spiritually dry. “We have become a victim of the lust of the mind, idolizing knowledge for its own sake”. Cupples offers “seven definite steps” to avoid this pitfall and maintain a healthy spiritual life: Firstly, they should turn their insights into prayers. “Let your new knowledge become the springboard for worship”. This will keep us humble and rekindle our love for God Himself. Secondly, they should pray regularly with their fellow-students. Prayer and fellowship can encourage us and warm up our hearts. Thirdly, they must be a faithful member of a local church—not just because it is the normal Christian life, but because it keeps our feet on the ground and takes us out of the intense atmosphere or our studies. We need the ministry of Word and Sacrament. Fourthly, they should get a regular pastoral check-up. Discussing the state of our spiritual life with someone mature and trustworthy can help in discerning spiritual decline in some area or providing needed encouragement in another. Fifthly, they should be involved in active Christian service. Theology is at the service of mission—it must be kept in this perspective. Sixthly, they must read devotional literature. Our souls need inspiration, not just information. Finally, they should learn to relax. Christian students can take theological study very seriously, but physical and emotional health is also important, and will actually contribute to our intellectual and spiritual strength.

Devotion makes us better theologians Another thing to remember is that “the things of God cannot be appreciated and understood fully from a detached standpoint, but only as they are lived and experienced”. For one thing, “strong devotion will make us better theologians”. But we must remember that “in the light of our eternal destiny” our scholarship counts for nothing if we do not have godliness. “Let us have learning, but let us have the experience of God too”. Quoting Martin Luther on “the need for the Spirit’s ministry and for genuine experience if we would have full understanding”, Cupples argues that the way of integration is essentially the combination of learning, living and feeling God and His Word.

Pursuing the way of integration: 3 incentives From all that has been discussed in this essay, it is evident that integrating our academic and devotional lives isn’t easy. However, Cupples offers three incentives for making the effort: Firstly, he believes it is the way of discipleship. The cost of following Christ includes expenditure of time and mental effort as we try to think like Christ and honour God in our thought-lives. Secondly, it is the way of witness. Cupples notes that Jesus met people where they were at—people with different views and different questions who needed answers. “Can we be content with a personal, cosy faith but fail to enter the battle for people’s minds?” (cf. 1 Peter 3:15). Thirdly, it is the way of humility. We need to be self-critical, examining our own traditions and interpretations and being ready for “more light to break forth from God’s Word”.

An opportunity and a privilege Finally, Cupples reminds us that the study of theology is a great privilege and opportunity. It must be “offered to God for his glory and in service to his church”. He endeavours to impress on us three things: Firstly, we must remember to do our work as unto the Lord. We must approach our studies with “the right intention, the right spirit”, remembering that “there is nothing Christian about shoddy work, laziness, neglect or superficiality”. Both heart and mind should be engaged in our studies. Secondly, we must pray about our studies. “Bring to God your successes and failures, doubts and delights, your essays and exams, your lecturers and fellow-students”. Thirdly, we must look on our study as an opportunity to develop our gifts in Christ’s service. If we “have a gift of mind” we must “seek to develop [it] for the service and upbuilding of the church”. Each one of us is unique with a special call and service that we must take seriously. “Here is the final argument for, the ultimate purpose of forming an integrated approach to our studies: theology in the service of mission, theology that will not just bring us to know God but which we will proclaim so that others might know him too, that the church of Christ might be built up, the kingdom advanced”.

Perspectives on Preaching, Martin Downes (39pgs) Outline provided by the author:

The sixth essay in this collection considers the importance of sound theology in preaching. Martin Downes (a Religious Studies and English graduate, now working as a UCCF Team Leader in Wales) makes a plea for “a more doctrinal form of preaching” to revive the Church’s high image of God and bring spiritual power back into the lives of Christians.

God and preaching Downes begins his essay by examining what preaching, at its heart, is all about. Quoting Martyn Lloyd-Jones, he explains that the “chief end of preaching …is to give men and women a sense of God and His presence”. Of course, preachers should talk about things like television and sex and divorce, but, as John Piper put it, “every one of those things should be swept into the holy presence of God and laid bare to the roots of its Godwardness or godlessness”. Christianity puts God at the centre of the universe (not man), and God has spoken and revealed Himself, making Christian preaching an authority about God and His ways and not a piece of human speculation. What God says and thinks is important. And according to God’s revelation, “the chief need of human beings is to ‘know God'”. “Preaching …must be God-centred precisely because it is [our] estrangement from God that lies at the heart” of all the problems in the world. It is in the gospel alone that God shows men, who are ultimately all rebels deserving His judgement, how to know him and be accepted by him—a knowledge that transcends the mere mechanics of the problem and “is made a reality on a personal level by the working of the Holy Spirit” who enables us to understand and receive these things, instilling within us a desire to know God and be like him. Knowing God, then, and knowing Him “better and better”, is what the Christian life is all about, and the object of preaching is “to bring men and women to a right knowledge of God, as the gospel of Jesus Christ is unfolded to them”. Preaching deals with what is of ultimate importance—our relationship to the ultimate reality and our ultimate destination.

Having explained the aim of preaching, Downes goes on to consider how the way we preach should be shaped by the knowledge of God’s holiness and His majesty, and how that same truth should also shape both public worship and the private life of the preacher.

The doctrine of God and preaching Our preaching can never be bigger than our vision of God. If our image of God is too small, if it is not “filled out by Scripture”, if we have taken God’s attributes “out of their scriptural harmony”, then our preaching will never give us a true sense of God and his presence. There will be no awe, reverence, fear or repentance, and thus no true knowledge of God. “Preaching is made or marred by the view of God that sustains it”, Downes explains.

The message and the method must correlate The actual manner of our preaching ought to be clearly controlled by the subject too. A cold, detached professionalism “shows signs of being unconvinced that the Bible really is the Word of God or that the dire predicament of humanity in sin is really that bad, or the solution offered so great”. On the other hand, “pulpit fire-works” may simply be “no more than the amplification of natural personality”. Humour and illustrations are not wholly out of place, but unless they “checked by the message, they are liable to cheapen and lighten subjects that are weighty, serious and precious”. It is tempting to pander to the audience’s tastes in “an age where entertainment reigns and consumerism is the order of the day”, but the preacher’s task is to draw attention to a transcendent God and His Word. The root problem with preaching today, Downes believes, “is not antiquated modes of communication …but a lack of preachers who know God”.

God and the preacher This leads the author to consider the subject of salvation and the new birth. “If there is an absence of a work of grace in your life, if you have not repented of your sins and are not trusting in the death of God’s Son for your acceptance with God, then your speaking is worthless”. Downes believes that “the greatest blight that the church has faced is Christian leaders who do not believe the gospel or have not experienced its power in their lives”. Evangelical orthodoxy and creedal affirmation must not be “taken as a substitute for a genuine work of conversion”. The “tragedy of those who  …ultimately worship an unknown God, preach an unknown Christ, pray through an unknown Spirit, and thus recommend a state of holiness and communion with God and a glory and happiness that is unknown to them …is magnified in those who teach and have pastoral responsibility over others”.

The preacher’s knowledge of God must go beyond the conversion experience. Whilst specific time should be allocated for the work of exegesis, interpretation and application, to produce a good sermon, this cannot be divorced from an ongoing relationship with God resulting in holiness and godliness, forming a necessary part of the background preparation required for making sermons. “There is no substitute for private prayer and meditation on Scripture in order for us to be better acquainted with God”.

Downes goes on to discuss “the necessity of holiness of life for the preacher”. Quoting Robert Murray McCheyne, he notes that “in great measure, according to the purity and perfections of the instrument, will be the success. It is not great talents God blesses so much as great likeness to Jesus”. Whilst we admire gifts and abilities in others and hope to aspire to them ourselves, they must play “a secondary role to the pursuit of holiness”. In actuality, it is the little things in our daily lives that “constitute the greatest threat” in “the battle for godly character”. The preacher must study to live well just as hard as he or she studies to preach well, or their preaching will be sapped of its life and power. And all this will only be achieved by “maintaining a conscience always washed in Christ’s blood …being filled with Holy Spirit at all times, and by attaining the most entire likeness to Christ in mind, will, and heart, that is possible for a redeemed sinner to attain to in this world”, as J.I. Packer put it.

Why preaching matters Downes elaborates a little further on the importance of preaching. Recalling sincere preachers who chose ordination over service in the 1940’s, in spite of the social stigma that fastened upon them, he reminds us that the battle for men’s souls is of ultimate importance and that we are working for an everlasting kingdom. There is a real urgency and it demands compelling preaching, which in turn is dependent on a “true knowledge of God”. This leads him on to a discussion of the relationship between theology and preaching.

Theology and preaching Downes believes we are living “in an age where biblical illiteracy is rampant, and privatised beliefs are the norm”. Consequently, “it is essential the whole revealed will of God is known both in the church and in the world”. Preaching must be both expository (that is, “explaining what the Bible teaches and how they relate to each another”). To engage in theology is to begin answering questions like “Who is Jesus Christ?” and “What happens to people when they die?” The actual answers to those questions are the end product of systematic theology. It is the preacher’s imperative not only to expound on scriptural passages accurately and explain the Bible correctly, but also to instil in his or her listeners “a right understanding of the whole of Christian truth”. This will require a commitment to theology—and more specifically, to systematic theology.

What is theology? Downes defines theology succinctly as “the knowledge of God”. For the Christian, this is drawn from God’s “general revelation” in God’s redemptive acts, in scripture and in the incarnation. Theology is made up of three parts: a “confessional element”, which is what the Church believes; “reflection on this confession”, which is “the attempt to understand confession in the present by [1] ranging over the whole of God’s disclosure in Scripture, [2] humbly recognising and receiving the labours and insights of the church throughout history, and finally [3] untangling what is confessed from the prevailing trends of the day that intrude upon the life and thought of the church”; the “cultivation of virtues”, which is about building wisdom for life, grounded on the first two elements.

Drawing on the tripartite concept of theology conceived by David Wells, ten sub-disciplines that “inform reflection” and “feed the cultivation of virtues” are duly noted: exegesis, which tells us what a given biblical text said to its readers; biblical theology, which gives us the total message of a Bible book on this or that subject; historical theology, which shows how Christians in the past viewed specific biblical truths; systematic theology, which restates the faith topic by topic as a whole in a way the present generation can understand; apologetics, which seeks to defend and commend the faith as rational and true; ethics, which systemises the standards of Christian life; spiritual theology, which studies how to maintain sanctifying communion with God; missiology, which tackles evangelism, church-planting and charity; liturgy, which shows us how to worship; practical theology, which explores how to further God’s work and glory in home, church and society. Systematic theology, although fourth on the list, is crowned by Downes as “apex and fulcrum” of the other nine disciplines, being “the sum of the first three” and “the source of material for the remaining six”.

The primacy of systematic theology If preachers are going to give their hearers a better understanding of Christian truth as a whole, they must be committed to the task of systematic theology. The systematic theologian, viewing the Bible as a coherent whole, endeavours to understand and proclaim the divine plan, purpose and mind revealed by it as a coherent whole. Systematic theology deals with “the subject matter of revelation and arranges it logically and coherently for the benefit of the church”. No one can ignore the task because it is really unavoidable—any reflection of God, drawn from whatever source and leading to whatever results, is a form of systematic theology. Since we are going to do it anyway, we might as well do the best job we can!

How theology mars preaching Downs goes on to consider how bad theology can mar our preaching. “It is clear from the New Testament that preaching, which is after all the communication of theological truth, can be ruined if the theology that feeds it is wrong”. Post-Enlightenment Christianity has seen the rise of destructive errors like liberalism, which has helped “empty churches and lives”. Bad theology that hasn’t had its “controlling principles” in the Word of God has had a catastrophic effect on preaching.

Theology can also serve to mar preaching by undermining people’s confidence in the perspicuity of scripture or their ability to grasp Christian truth. When the pulpit becomes a platform for theologians to parade their learning and expertise, ordinary Christians may begin to feel ill-qualified to understand either the Bible or Christian theology. “The subtle threat is to display learning rather than to teach and edify”. “The test of true preaching …is whether it is motivated by love”.

Another way theology can mar preaching is when a preacher fills out the meaning of a passage by importing ideas from elsewhere rather than explaining what is actually there (exegesis). Part of the process of being transformed by the renewing of our minds is “the ongoing experience of grasping the meaning of individual parts of Scripture”. If talks are continuously failing to explain the passage they are based on, even though they may contain truth, their long-term effect can be to “weaken the ability of listeners to construct a right understanding of God”.

If sermons are not being structured around a section of scripture, it may actually indicate some unbelief in the importance and sufficiency of scripture. “Are hard passages being avoided or explained away? … Are important truths being neglected or ignored?” Downes observes that “the Bible is open to massive abuse in the hands of church leaders and preachers; not only can they misinterpret it but they may also preside over which parts are taught and which parts are passed over”, thus deforming our vision of God. Behind all this is a faulty theology, “for if what ‘Scriptures says, God says’, then teaching the whole Bible must be the priority of every church”.

How theology helps preaching “The starting point for faithful preaching must stem from a right view of the authority and life-giving nature of holy Scripture”, Downes writes. We have seen that theology that mars preaching “ultimately stems from a failure to teach the Bible”. In the remainder of his essay, Downes explains how good theology—specifically, exegesis, biblical theology, historical theology, and systematic theology, can ultimately supply the Church with a needed “panoramic vision of the greatness of God and his ways”.

In coming to a proper understanding of a text and its correct application, there is an important “interplay between exegesis, hermeneutics and biblical and systematic theology”. Exegesis endeavours to determine what the texts says and what it means, examining it carefully and taking into account its peculiarities of form, structure, literary type etc. This is not enough, however. Biblical theology comes into play because the text belongs to a particular context (eg. a chapter of book), from a distinct genre or corpus (eg. wisdom literature, gospels, the Pauline epistles), and from a certain stage in redemptive history (eg. Old or New Testament, pre or post resurrection), and understanding its context is crucial to correct interpretation. But then, the text must be evaluated to see how it fits into the total system of Christian truth and to see how that system aids our understanding of that text—and how Systematic theology is involved. We must get all of this right before we can approach the question of application.

Biblical and systematic theology Our confidence in biblical and systematic theology is rooted in our belief in “the nature of God and his ability to reveal himself through personal and verbal revelation to fallen men and women in space and time”. The Bible finds its unity in “the one divine author who stands behind it”. The preacher must persevere in both branches of theology. Neither can be divorced from the other, for whilst on the one hand systematic theology seeks to offer coherent answers to important questions, derived from the whole counsel of God, the discipline of biblical theology “acts as a corrective against reading texts in isolation, as if they were hermetically sealed off from the storyline of redemptive history”. Understanding is enriched as Christians “see the plan of redemption foretold, patterned, promised and fulfilled in the incarnation, death and victorious resurrection of Jesus Christ”.

Why preaching must draw on systematic theology Downes believes that, “in spite of the educational advances of the last two hundred years and the availability of Bibles in contemporary language, the standards of biblical literacy and articulate theological definition are far from acceptable”. “It is the task of preachers to teach the Word of God”, enabling believers to know what they believe and why they believe it, so they can speak the truth in love and be built up in Christ. To do all this, the preacher must draw on systematic theology. “It is in part because we think in terms of subjects that are logically related to other subjects that preaching must aim toward establishing a good understanding of the system of Christian truth”. Downes also notes how “exposition and systematic theology feed each other. As we understand individual texts, we inform our understanding of doctrines and how doctrines interrelate; the better informed our framework is, the better able we are to interpret individual texts”. Simply teaching the passage in hand is not enough. “There must be a serious attempt made to teach people biblical doctrine”, or Christians will have no concept of truth as a coherent system. Without this, “the church will become a shadow of what it is intended to be”. Its health and vitality depend upon it.

God and preaching revisited “Systematic theology finds its raison de’etre in its panoramic vision of the greatness of God and his ways”. In the epistle to the Romans, we see how “the climax of eleven chapters of rich theology breaks out into adoring praise at the mystery of God and his judgements”. As A.W. Tozer pointed out, “a rediscovery of the majesty of God will go along way toward curing” our problems. “It is impossible to keep our moral practices sound and our inward attitudes right while our idea of God is erroneous or inadequate. If we would bring back spiritual power to our lives, we must begin to think of God more nearly as he is”. The true knowledge of God must become our starting point for study, worship and for life. Quoting David Wells, Downes concludes that “if the Church can begin to find a place for theology by refocusing itself on the centrality of God, if it can rest upon his sufficiency, if it can recover its moral sober, then it will have something to say to a world now drowning in modernity”.

The Importance of being Earnest, Carl Trueman (18pgs) Outline provided by the author:

The final essay by Carl Trueman (formerly a senior lecturer in Church History at the University of Aberdeen and now an associate Professor at Westminster Theological Seminary, USA), examines the now familiar question of “how academic theological study proper is to be related to …everyday life as a Christian believer”. He reminds us of the need to maintain the basic Christian walk and to approach our studies as servants seeking to serve. He also presents a sober analysis of theology as a university discipline and advises the student on how to survive its potentially harmful effects.

Introduction “There can be no more pressing question to be addressed by the theological student than that of how academic theological study is to be related to his or her everyday life as Christian believer”, writes Trueman as he introduces his essay. Of course, the so-called “heart-head” dilemma is not peculiar to Christian theologians. However it is, in a special way, “peculiarly relevant to those engaged in full-time theological study”, simply because the evangelical Christian theologian is relentlessly being confronted “left, right and centre” with challenges to the fundamentals of his or her faith. The danger here is for theological students to succumb to “the overwhelming temptation to abstract doctrine from the practical context of life and to make it an end in itself”. The result of this, Trueman warns us, is the emasculation of the Christian faith as belief and practice, life and doctrine are pulled apart and the Bible is reduced to a book we argue about instead of the rock we build our lives upon. For the theologian, the essential problem is “how to integrate the task of treating the Bible both as an object of analysis in their studies and as the source of devotion in their Christian life”. The specific problems raised by the study of textual criticism, systematic theology, philosophy of religion etc. are all “variations” or “specific manifestations” of this “deeper problem”, which the author hopes to address in the essay. The aim here is not to tackle all the specific problems one by one, but to concentrate on “the general framework within which your studies should be approached”.

A framework for integration “Whatever model we develop to understand how theological study and Christian devotion are to be integrated must proceed on the basis of who we understand God to be, who we understand ourselves to be, and therefore the relationship that exists between the two”. So saying, Trueman reflects on creation, the fall and redemption. The upshot of this deliberation is the simple conclusion that “the conditions for a healthy life as a theological student are, as one would expect, determined to a large extent by the conditions for a healthy spiritual life in general”. These conditions “consist primarily in giving careful and faithful attendance to the means of grace”. On the individual level, that means prayer and Bible reading. On the corporate level, involvement in the worshiping life of a church, receiving the preaching of the World, and partaking of the Lord’s Supper. Trueman urges us not to sneer at these “bread-and-butter issues”. We may want to hear something clever and sophisticated, but these simple details must come first, before we go any further. “Don’t imagine that you can integrate your theological studies with your daily Christian walk successfully, unless you have first established the latter on a sound footing”.

In fact, Trueman believes that of all the evangelical students he has seen “come unstuck” in their academic studies, the primary problem has not been an intellectual one but a spiritual one: church attendance, or Bible reading, or obedience has slipped. “It is this practical decline in daily Christian walk that has provided the framework for the impending intellectual crisis”. He reminds us that “human beings are not simply intellectual automata” producing beliefs that are “simply the result of value-neutral logical processes working from self-evident truths”. We are fallen beings who rebel against God’s demands to live for him alone and struggle with “a basic human desire to be free of God”. Loss of faith, like lack of faith, is not simply an epistemological problem. It is also a problem of morality. Likewise, “failure to integrate any particular aspect of our lives in the larger reality of our union with Christ …is not simply a problem of technique but also a problem of morality”.

Trueman now moves on to “the next level of getting the integration right”. Having attended to our general life as Christians, we must now consider the function of our theological studies. The first thing to understand is that, like anything else, theological study “is something to be done first and foremost to the glory of God; and that is to inform and shape the attitude with which it is pursued”. The second thing to remember is that “theological studies are to be seen as an opportunity for, and an avenue of, service to the church in general”. This requires some further consideration. The theological student should not get it into his or her head that he or she is “God’s gift to the Christian church” by virtue of superior biblical and theological knowledge. Trueman reminds us that technical knowledge in itself “does not mean we are in any sense a more effective, God-glorifying Christian” than the next person. There is a big difference between knowing what prayer means and knowing what it means to pray. There is a world of difference between knowing what the Chalcedonian definition says and knowing its personal significance. We should be humble, then, and remember, that though we may have gifts to offer, that is the the Church to recognise—our skills afford us an opportunity to serve, not a basis for exalting ourselves above others. As servants we ought to be involved, at whatever level, in our church. Trueman suggests that Sunday school “is one excellent means of developing a truly theological (as opposed to merely academic or scholarly) mindset”. The “twin challenges of explaining difficult concepts …and of making these concepts relevant” to youngsters and youths “is a profound challenge of which the average ivory-tower theologian has but the vaguest notion”.

Theology as a university discipline Trueman goes on to consider a major issue he perceives “at the very core of academic theology” that obstructs the effort to integrate our faith and our studies. “This is the issue of theology as a university discipline”. Offering a sobering historical analysis of how it has got itself into its present state, Trueman stresses that “the problem is not just the liberal theology that you learn at university but the whole university culture and ethos”. In other words, there is a problem with both the content and the context of theology as a university discipline, and in Trueman’s opinion, the later, “with its tendency to neutralize all the imperatives of Christian theology”, is “far more subtle and far more serious”. Historically, Christian theology “was integral to the church’s life and testimony, and thus intensely practical”, but the modern university “has divorced theology from it proper place in the life of the church” and “is ultimately not interested in those claims that make Christian theology so important”, except as “artefacts to be examined and discussed”. It is also under pressure to justify itself to the world on commercial and economic grounds.

To help us understand the issue of context, Trueman offers an analogy: Suppose the discipline of medicine became reformed in a most absurd way so that gradually all compounds come to be seen as having equal power to cure and it eventually became unacceptable to speak of one person being more or less ill than any other! The result, of course, would be that the discipline of medicine, whose very purpose was to think about and cure human diseases, would fragment, because there would be “no central concern or conviction” to keep it together. Trueman goes on to imagine a group of students who become disillusioned with the consensus orthodoxy of modern medicine and come to believe that people do suffer sickness, that medicine is good for you and that poison is bad. The trouble with this imaginary group of “radicals”, however, is that they just talk about it. They may have rejected the content of consensus orthodoxy, Trueman observes, “but they have done so in the same context and culture as their opponents: not that of curing people, but that of juggling with clever and interesting ideas”.

Evangelical theologians must remember that “theology is not just a question of content, it is also a question of context; and if we simply replace the liberalism with evangelicalism with regard to content whilst remaining happy with the overall context, we will have failed”.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Trueman says that the aim to integrate our faith and our studies, at the end of the day, cannot be done in the purely academic environment of the university, for the simple reason that “the modern university in its very essence is designed to reject the kind of integration for which you seek”. Integration can only be achieved “when theology is given its proper place within the church, within the worshipping community”. It becomes apparent then that becoming actively involved in a local church fellowship is not merely a matter of Christian obedience but of “sanctified common sense”. It is not enough to simply supplement what you are being taught with sound evangelical theology, “you also need to place yourself in an environment where the indifference to and distance from real life that academic theological study engenders can be alleviated. And that place is church”. Trueman admonishes us to fill our hearts as well as our heads with “good stuff” and to see our theological work as an act of devotion. He concludes with a quotation from Benjamin Breckenridge Warfield, demonstrating the proper spirit for approaching our studies.