Law and Grace in the Christian Life

Skip Cartin at Western Avenue Baptist Church has been preaching through Romans over the past year. This image came to mind recently:

God is like a circle. I know God has been represented as a circle because the line of the circle continues over and over and is kind of analogous to infinity. All metaphors for God are incomplete and using a circle in this way certainly lacks much. However, the circle that I have in mind isn't with regard to God as being infinite in the same way that people often use the circle.

My explanation of this symbol is that the center of God is the center of the circle, here marked by cross hairs. The presence of God radiates out from the center infinitely. The circle itself is the point at which one can be considered to be "in God". Outside of the circle, God is present, but one can be considered not to have company with God there.


We tend to think of this circle as being soteriological. That is, we consider what we must do or have in order to be inside of the circle. As such, most people hang around the circle. Some may stray inward while many remain outside the circle, but most "try to be good" and often wipe their brow, rest some, and plateau when they believe they have "made it" inside the circle.


Theologians may debate precisely where this circle should be placed. Those in between the theoretical circles are held in the sway. Are they in or are they out? Can we consider these to be fellow brothers and sister in Christ? Do they truly have fellowship with God?

Blue and Red hang out near the circle's edge. What could they be saying about Green? Could they be clicking their tongues and commenting on all the evil he does that keeps him out of the circle? Perhaps they are planning how they can get him to come into the circle? What do they tell him to get him to come? It depends on their particular soteriology. they may also look with amazement or disdain at Purple. He's awful far in. Perhaps they think he's to heavenly minded to be of any earthly good. After all, unless one hangs out near the edge of the circle, they may reason, one can't help anyone get in.


The attachment to the circle's edge is purely legal. We want to know whether we are in or out and it's falsely comforting to know what we need to do in order to be "in". That's the law. The problem is that the circle is illusory. We think we can be "in" by doing doing good things. However, if we have any sin at all, entering the circle results in death because God doesn't tolerate sin. What Christ has done has removed this barrier so that we can approach God. The message of grace is to head to the center of God. This is true if you are Purple, Green, Red or Blue:

Now, with the circle becomes not soteriological but merely ecclesiological. It's a matter of how you are going to define the requirements of church membership rather than whether or not you are actually saved.

Just tonight I read Exodus 20 with the kids. We visited Matthew 22:34-40 and tried to find the two greatest commandments in the ten we just read. We talked about the sermons we've hearing lately. But the ten commandments aren't the only thing in Exodus 20. We've just been taking Psalms in order each night and we were on Psalm 91 tonight. I won't paste it here - go read it for yourself. I love it when a message comes together on its own.

After God delivers the decalogue, the Israelites are afraid because of the lightning, smoke and trumpet blasting from the top of the mountain and beg Moses to have God not do the talking, but to rather come and tell them what He says. They are afraid of God, and rightly so: the revelation of His presence is terrifying. I asked the kids about the sorts of things that make them afraid and we went from there.

But in the Psalm, we have the testimony of the protection of God. We are encouraged as we follow His law of love that we reside in Him and He protects us. He isn't terrifying at all.

So what's the difference? The Israelites were afraid by the physical manifestation of His powerful presence. They had been given the law, but they didn't yet understand His grace. We would be terrified too. Most of us don't understand the grace of God as we ought. May we learn it so we can rejoice with the Psalmist that we can rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

It Was Only A Dream. However...

I don't remember many of my dreams anymore. The ones I do remember are often bizarre: crawling on a spider web stretched horizontally over a great glowing chasm, maze-like buildings filled with people I don't know, or the time I escaped the grim reaper by flying off the roof of a 3-story school building somewhere in the Midwest. I had a dream last night. I'm sick right now and my dream was made rather lucid by the combination of drugs and fever. You would think I'd have another bizarre dream.

It was actually a rather normal dream. I was younger, perhaps an adolescent, and so was my younger brother.

We were visiting a small town that had two churches. We had been to one church and found the congregation welcoming and the teaching sound. We liked it there, but my brother wanted to visit the other church.

It was an independent fundamentalist (indy fundy) church. My brother went in as people were seating and tried to find a seat. The building was small and there were only a few inches between the outside ends of the pews and the walls. (I don't know why the fire marshal ever approved that. But, hey, it's only a dream.) Therefore, the only way to get into the pews was from the center aisle which at the moment was congested with people making their way to their pews. As is typical, the coveted positions are right next to the pews so the first people to sit often sat right on the ends next to the aisle. As is also often typical in may churches, people had places that they preferred to sit.

As I walked into the back of the church I saw that my brother had tried to sit in a pew and was being forcibly removed by the owners of the pew. I came up and told him that we'll just find another pew. This became easier as people cleared out of the aisle and into the pews. However, all the ends of the pews were filled. There was space in some of the pews, but the owners of the pews were set against getting up and letting us in so we could sit down. There was even one man who blocked the way to an otherwise empty pew who refused to even make eye contact with me.

I told my brother we would just leave and go back to the other church. Then I called out and said, "We're leaving now! Bye!" The sad thing to me was that many people responded, "Ok. Bye!" Just as we got to the back of the church I heard a lady call out, "Wait! We have some room on our pew!" It had to be the fullest pew in the house. Her whole family was in it. They were scrunching together to make room for us.

It's a good thing it was only a dream. However, it's not implausible. My dream didn't really have to be about indy fundies. It could have been about anyone. I had a brief conversation recently about acquiring a taste for an indy fundy service. Add to that yesterday's post about false professors and you have the makings of an indy fundy dream.

I've had good and bad experiences with indy fundies. My dad's dad was a Southern Missionary Baptist preacher. I don't understand the association between the churches that he served, but it seems that he was always preaching in a different church. There was one church near his home that he ministered in regularly. So, each of the churches may have been associated somehow - would you call that "independent"? Even the Independent Baptist churches I know seem to be associated. So, I don't know. Nevertheless, he was as close to an indy fundy as any I've ever heard preach.

I sang the indy fundy circuit with a trio once. I had been adopted by a family of wild indy fundies a couple of years before I was married, and we used to sing together. This was a good experience. However, I was still a Lutheran at the time. The pastor of one church found this out afterward and said that he wouldn't have let me sing in his church if he had known I was a Lutheran. That was a bad experience.

Fundamentalism has a bad rep. Theoretically, fundamentalism holds a good foundational view to theology, which is good. However, many fundamentalists are not very foundational. Take the preacher in the next video for example. TomintheBox called his approach to exegesis "Sqirmeneutics" and I agree. For those who don't know, hermeneutics is the set of rules we use in order to properly understand the scriptures. Squirmeneutics, according to TomintheBox is "1. the science of misinterpretation, esp. of the Scriptures, to such a degree that it causes listeners with any common sense to squirm" or "2. misinterpretation of the Scriptures so absurd that it causes one to question whether or not it could possibly be for real."



This preacher has issues. First of all, unless he would call boys "men", he needs to consider that those who urinate against the wall include boys. "Males" is appropriate. Second, the males that are referred to here are not being referred to in a favorable light. They are marked for destruction. Thirdly, the expression "[urinate] against the wall" was an ancient Hebrew idiom for "males", not an admonition for men to stand up when they urinate. His conclusions are completely unfounded. Therefore his fundamentalism is nothing of the sort.

The point to this article is that Whether you're an indy fundy or some other breed of church member, we tend to become rooted more in our ecclesiological habits than in seeking to glorify God. We need to learn to recognize the difference.

There are so many expressions of worship, whether corporately or otherwise, and different styles of preaching that are legitimate to get stuck on a single routine. I love to see the exuberance of African worship or the intricate synchronization of Messianic circle dancing. I love to see the poignant dramas of Hispanic churches and hear the cries of prayer of a multitude of people calling on God at once. I love the sound of large choir and the singing of a lone soul in mourning. I loved the glottal punctuation of my papaw every time he breathed as he preached. I love the natural flow of words as a preacher speaks off-the-cuff from notes or the careful wording when he has written the sermon out ahead of time. I love a congregation that is involved in worship.

I hate sermons that are vapid and vacuous or simply untrue. I hate worship that is full of pretense and self-aggrandizement. May we all seek the better things.

How Do You Do Church?

I don’t mean to keep harping on the Regulative Principle, but the matter of ecclesiology keeps pegging away on the radar screen of my intellectual air space and I can’t help but to think that if I write about it it’ll go away and leave me to write about other things.

Tominthebox News Network continues to use exquisite humor (with the caveat that this compliment comes from someone whose sense of humor has been described recently as “corny”) to illumine our penchant for theological error. A recent article shared the pamphlet of a fictional church that combined a poor hermeneutical principle with the Regulative Principle to produce some interesting ecclesiological (how we do church and why we do it that way) results.

Hermeneutics are the principles we use to understand what the Bible means. For example, we use hermeneutics to determine if the word “all” in a passage means everyone everywhere, or just all of a certain type of people (population of a city or faith affiliation), or all ethnic groups but not everyone of every ethnic group. Perhaps you’ve heard a preacher refer to the number of times the Bible says something. I’ve heard this with regard to the teachings of Christ. It is noted by good teachers of the Bible that Christ mentions eternal condemnation at least as much as He mentions the kingdom of heaven. This isn’t necessarily a bad observation, but it makes for a poor hermeneutical principle. In other words, all Christ had to do was mention it once for us to know about it. Multiple mentions may indicate emphasis, but not necessarily.

In the case of this fictional church, they took this principle and counted the number of times different types of worship were mentioned in the Bible to determine their importance in worship. If it’s mentioned in the bible, it’s fair game as far as the Regulative Principle is concerned. If it’s not in there, don’t do it. Here’s the breakdown according to this pamphlet:

• Singing: "The Bible mentions "singing" 20 times (NIV)."
• Lifting Hands: "Not coincidentally, the Bible also mentions the lifting of hands 20 times (NIV) proving that the lifting of hands is equally important as singing."
• Dancing: "In the Bible, dancing is referenced 14 times in the NIV. It's referenced 19 times in the KJV! So hop to it!"
• Ripping Clothes: "Mentioned 29 times in the NIV (32 in the KJV), individuals would "tear," had "torn," or unashamedly "tore" their clothes as a sign of humility [in worship]... Why not participate in an activity that is 50% more important than singing or hand lifting and up to 100% more important than dancing? Sackcloth is available in the foyer for 1st time visitors."

The logic sounds plausible, but the conclusion is silly. So what’s the answer?

Dusman has posted a couple of articles [one and two] at Triablogue regarding the form and function of church. These articles are a response to a theological error fueling a movement of house churches called the New Testament Reformation Fellowship. There’s nothing wrong with house churches, but it’s erroneous to think that meeting in homes is the only legitimate way to do church. (Tominthebox has addressed this one as well recently.)

Dusman’s articles trace the form of church back to the conversion of believers. Soteriology (the gospel – the area of theology that deals with our salvation) is the crown jewel of theology with Christology as it’s setting and Theology Proper (the doctrine of God) as the crown itself. This means that Christ’s work on the cross is singularly important to our being able to know God. Pneumatology, Anthropology, Harmatology, Bibliology, etc. all encircle this crown jewel and are unknowable without the gospel. The act itself, written accurately in the passages of Holy Scripture, transcends the capacity of mere words to convey the depth of God’s self-cohesion.

This cohesion is to be illustrated in our local fellowship as we bear one another’s burdens. Dusman argues therefore, that the function of a local fellowship follows conversion. Only then do we derive the form of church – from the function. Whether a fellowship of believers is a small house church or a megachurch, the form must bring believers together for the sake of propagating the gospel. He offers an abbreviation of 58 “one-anothers” found in the New Testament for our consideration:

In sum, we promise to…

honor one another,
be members of one another,
live in harmony with one another,
build one another up,
be like-minded towards one another,
accept one another,
care for one another,
serve one another,
bear one another's burdens,
be kind to one another,
forgive one another,
abound in love towards one another,
comfort one another,
encourage one another,
stir one another up to love and good deeds,
confess our sins to one another,
be hospitable to one another,
greet one another,
fellowship with one another,
submit to one another while
not passing judgment on one another,
not provoking one another,
not envying one another,
not hating one another,
not slandering one another,
and not bearing grudges against one another.

We do all this because Christ has loved us in each of these ways and this frees our hearts to love one another as He has loved us (John 13:34; 8:32).

And He loved us sacrificially. Consider this: do you focus on the form or the function of the church with regard to the glorification of Christ and the ministry of the gospel? Do you treat your fellow Christians like this?

What Do You Think of the Regulative Principle?

Timmy Brister asked this question of Mark Driscoll:

"Do you believe that the Scripture not only regulates our theology but also our methodology? In other words, do you believe in the regulative principle? If so, to what degree? If not, why not?"

As I type this, his question is in first place. Many are adding some good comments. I'll go ahead and give my answer here:

What I see of Paul is not that he taught methodology, but that he taught theology and applied it to the circumstances of each church, group of people, or person in order to derive proper methodology. This is why it's important to understand Paul's audience at any given time. The theology must remain firm, but the methodology must provide the appropriate conduit for instructing different people in different places. I think Christ backed this up through John in His particular messages to the seven churches.

The key term here is "appropriate conduit". Churches cross the line when they cease to be appropriate and they cease to be a conduit. "Appropriate" doesn't cause people to stumble. "Conduit" refers to a reliance on God's provision for the message. Every element of corporate worship and ecclesiological conduct should serve to open communication between our Lord and His people. Neither "appropriate" nor "conduit" should occlude any part of the message of Christ.

Mark will probably have a more thoughtful answer. What are your thoughts?