A Meal for the Journey
Written by Michael A.G. Haykin |
Tuesday, October 4, 2022
The Puritans generally regarded the Supper as a vehicle that the Spirit employed as an efficacious means of grace for the believer. The seventeenth-century Baptists and their heirs in the eighteenth century, like Isaac Staveley, would have judged the memorial view of the Lord’s Supper—the dominant view among today’s evangelicals—as far too mean a perspective on what was for them such a rich means of grace.
“May these precious seasons make me fruitful.” These words, found in the diary of a certain Isaac Staveley, who worked as a clerk for coal merchants in London during the 1770s, were written after he had celebrated the Lord’s Supper with his church, Eagle Street Baptist Church, in 1771.
In the rest of this diary, Staveley makes it evident that the celebration of the death of the Christ at the Table was a highlight of his Christian life. In the evening of March 3, he recorded that he and fellow members “came around the table of our dear dying Lord to feast on the sacrifice of his offered body, show his death afresh, to claim and recognise our interest therein, to feast on the sacrifice of his offered body as happy members of the same family of faith and love.” How many today view the Table this way?
Packed into these few words, Staveley reveals his conviction that the Lord’s Supper was a place of communion — communion with Christ and with his people. It was a place of spiritual nurture and of witness. And it was a place of rededication, both to Christ and to his church family.1
Unprized Means of Grace
I suspect that Staveley’s words sound strange to the ears of many modern evangelicals, who might think they are reading the diary of a Roman Catholic or High Anglican, not that of a fellow Reformed evangelical from the eighteenth century. Indeed, the oddity of Staveley’s words to the ears of evangelicals today reveals how much we have lost over the last two centuries. We are out of touch with a tradition that highly prized the ordinances as vehicles of spiritual grace.
It is not simply that we have come to use mainly the word ordinance for the Lord’s Supper and baptism, rather than the word sacrament, whereas many Baptists like Staveley would have been quite comfortable with the latter term in the eighteenth century. Rather, under the impress of the rationalistic mindset of Western culture, we have lost a sense of mystery about the dynamics of the Table.
John Calvin (1509–1564), who stands at the fountainhead of the tradition of which Staveley was a part, was quite content to leave it as a mystery as to how the emblems of bread and wine are employed by the Holy Spirit to make Christ present at the celebration of his Supper. And roughly down until the opening of the nineteenth century, anglophone evangelicals followed in his stead, treasuring the presence of Christ at the Table without feeling pressured to explain exactly how this worked.
Diluting the Wine
How did this understanding of the Lord’s Supper lose its way?
During the nineteenth century, church services became primarily places of evangelism. But the Lord’s Table was not a converting ordinance, and thus great evangelistic preachers like Alexander Maclaren (1826–1910) — though not C.H. Spurgeon (1834–1892), it needs to be noted — came to regard the Table as a rite of little import in the Christian life. The emergence of the Oxford Movement in the Anglican Church — with men like John Henry Newman (1801–1890) and John Keble (1792–1866), who revived the doctrine of transubstantiation — also served to push evangelicals toward downplaying the importance of the Lord’s Supper.
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Are Sinners Worthless?
How can we say that man has inherent dignity (the image of God) and yet at the same time he is a terrible sinner—worthless (total depravity)? Isn’t he either the former or the latter? The answer to this false dilemma is simply “yes.” We are both. Man is far above all other creatures (Ps. 8:5); he is “wonderful” (Ps. 139:14) and “beautiful” (Prov. 20:29). No other creature has the honor of being created in the image of God (Gen. 1:27). But he has also fallen very far.
I was sitting in a college history class many years ago. My professor asked for a show of hands: “How many of you believe man is basically good?” Most people raised their hands. “How many of you believe man is basically bad?” Two or three people raised their hands, including me. I looked around somewhat perplexed; my Calvinist upbringing put me at odds with almost everyone. Yet when I look back, something was wrong.
More recently, a young man who attended a Bible study I was leading asked me a question. During one study, I mentioned that God considered human beings valuable enough to save; otherwise, He wouldn’t have sent His Son to die for people. I said we have inherent dignity; there’s a worthwhileness about us. This young man came up to me after the study, confused. He quoted Romans 3:12:
All have turned aside; together they have become worthless;no one does good,not even one.
He respectfully asked how I could say that humans are worthwhile if the Bible tells us we’re worthless. I was thrown off guard, because I could see how I appeared to be directly contradicting Scripture. A plain, surface-level reading of Romans 3:12 led him to believe that men and women are worthless. God saved dirty rags (Isa. 64:6), trash (1 Sam. 2:8), worms (Job 25:6; Ps. 22:6). Who are we to think of ourselves as worthwhile at all?
I realized in reflecting afterward that I had found myself caught on the horns of a false dilemma, but to understand the dilemma, we need to think about our historical context.
Total Depravity
It’s our inheritance as Protestants to think of ourselves as sinners, incapable of willing spiritual good. This was the underlying logic of Martin Luther’s despair as he went through the repetitious cycle of the Roman Catholic sacramental system. He realized he would never measure up; he would never stop sinning in this life; his sin went so deep that he could never confess or do enough to merit salvation. He had a sober understanding of who he was before God, and this led him to be awed by the grace made apparent in the revelation of God’s righteousness (Rom. 1:17). He realized that God’s saving righteousness was Jesus Christ, and God stoops to save sinners. Therefore, when we throw ourselves on the mercy of God exhibited in the infinite grace freely given to us in our Lord Jesus Christ, then we experience the joy of salvation—by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone. It’s no wonder that Protestants sing “Amazing Grace” with gusto.
Luther, however, lived in an age permeated by Christian thought. Protestants and Roman Catholics didn’t argue that we were made in the image of God. That was a given; the question was: How far did we fall? Did we simply lose a certain grace that was divinely imparted to us so that we now stand in a somewhat neutral position before God (as Roman Catholic doctrine asserts)? Or did we fall so far that now we’re unable to will true spiritual good apart from the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit (as classical Protestantism asserts)?
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Abuse, the OPC, and the Psychologizing of Sin
Here is the real problem that I believe underlies the failure of those frequently using the term abuse to provide a clear, biblical definition: the preference of the term abuse dislocated from sin, moves abuse out of the moral and spiritual realm and into the psychological. In other words, it tends to shift the serious matters at hand from that which is properly clerical and refers them to the clinical.
Last summer I wrote an article voicing my concerns about a motion brought to the 87th General Assembly (GA) of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC). Now an overture related to abuse is on its way to the 88th GA this summer in Philadelphia (you can download a pdf version of the overture below). I will soon be interacting with the language of that overture in detail. Here I would like to explore the recent discussions about abuse and why we must not leave the term undefined, ill-defined, or without biblical qualification. I will also discuss one of the concerning trajectories for the church in its present approach to discussing abuse.
Importance of Definition
During the 87th GA last year, at least two commissioners asked some version of this vital question: “What is your definition of abuse?” No one provided a succinct, working definition. Why was this? Precise definition of terms is vital for a variety of reasons. When discussing important topics like this one, everyone needs to know precisely what is being talked about. In matters of righteousness and justice, there is no room for ambiguity. Clarity of definition is not terribly popular today, but this is nothing new. J. Gresham Machen wrote this in 1925, “Indeed nothing makes a man more unpopular in controversies of the present day than an insistence upon the definition of terms. Anything, it seems, may be forgiven more readily than that.”[1] How should we define abuse?
Should we use the UN’s definition? “Abuse is physical, sexual, emotional, economic, or psychological actions or threats of actions that influence another person.” According to this statement, abuse can be “emotional…actions…that influence another person.” This is a terrible definition because it is dangerously broad. The organization G.R.A.C.E. seems to indicate that an assessment for abuse would be warranted “if your organization has been notified that women do not feel comfortable in the culture and environment of your organization.” Is discomfort proof of abuse? While it could be, this is dangerously subjective. Diane Langberg, while teaching at a presbytery conference in the OPC in 2021 said in the question-and-answer session that, “the basic meaning of abuse is to mistreat somebody.” Will the OPC do any better? The overture coming to the 88th GA from the Presbytery of Ohio defines abuse as “misuse of power of various kinds.” We must do better.
Reconsider the statements above. Some use recklessly broad terminology and some inexcusably vague. Webster’s 1828 dictionary lists the following for the noun form. Abuse:
“Ill use; improper treatment or employment; application to a wrong purpose; as an abuse of our natural powers; an abuse of civil rights, or of religious privileges; abuse of advantages, etc; A corrupt practice or custom; Rude speech; reproachful language addressed to a person; contumely; reviling words; Seduction; Perversion of meaning; improper use or application; as an abuse of words.”
Left unqualified, abuse can be an exceedingly broad term. Consider this: by the above definition, overeating, losing your temper, a mean tweet, lying, adultery, murder, binge-watching Netflix, corrupt worship, and keying someone’s car all fall into the category of abuse.
To put it most broadly, all abuse is sin, and quite frankly, all sin is abuse in some way or another. But every fair-minded person knows that there are different kinds and severities of abuse. As such, all sins of abuse occur along a spectrum. It can range from relatively trivial (a mean tweet) to outright evil (murder/adultery). Frequently inserted to this discussion are categories including but not limited to emotional, physical, sexual, and spiritual (a topic for another day). In addition to different kinds, we can also identify different severity. For example, a spouse committing adultery is evil; a minister of the gospel committing adultery is far worse. For these reasons, not only does abuse need a clear definition, it ought not be a standalone term, especially in debates within the church. Instead, following the method of the Westminster Catechisms, abuse should be regarded as an aggravation of an underlying sin that renders it more heinous (WLC 151). [2]
With these matters of definition in mind, here is a most important question: by what standard can we determine the definition, kind, and severity of abuse? By what standard ought we to determine the correct response to various abuses? It must be the Word of God, for Scripture alone is the infallible standard for identifying, exposing, and dealing with sin. We must be biblical both in our definition and our method to account for the kind/severity spectrum of sins aggravated by abuse. Let us consider some passages of Scripture in search of a clearer understanding of the issue at hand.
Abuse in the Bible
Technically speaking Eve is the first culprit of abuse in Scripture when she misuses God’s Word in Genesis 3:2-3. Adam joins the ranks of abusers by way of neglect due to his silent abdication (Gen. 3:6). He then horribly mistreats his wife by offering her up to divine judgment in order to save his fig-leaf covered skin (Gen. 3:12). As covenant head, he was also responsible for plunging all humanity into an estate of sin and misery. As such, the sin of Adam became the source for all sin in human history, which makes it a kind that is extremely severe.
Judges 19:25 describes abuse of the most vicious kind and severity. This dark chapter describes unimaginable evil committed against a vulnerable woman. She was exposed to a perverse mob by a shameful, spineless man. Most English Bibles translate the original word aw-lal’ with abused, “And they knew her and abused her all night until morning; and when the day began to break, they let her go” (NKJV). I will return to this heinous event later. The other OT occurrences of this word with the closest usage are in 1 Samuel 31:4/1 Chron 10:4 (Saul not wanting to be abused by the Philistines), and Jeremiah 38:19 (Zedekiah wanting to avoid either mocking or mistreatment).
In these four texts, three of which use aw-lal’, the action under scrutiny is the misconduct by those in a position of influence with responsibility for their actions. While Eve was queen of creation, most importantly Adam was the head of natural humanity. The perverse mob in Judges was subject to the Law of God and had covenant responsibility to care for the stranger (Ex. 22:21, 23:9, see also Ezek. 16:49). Compounding the evil was the deplorable conduct of the Levite and the master of the house in Gibeah. For Saul and Zedekiah, they were both concerned about the serious maltreatment that would result from being handed over to reckless groups of sinners.
The New Testament twice uses the term katachraomai for abuse. In both occasions, the sense communicates the need to avoid the misuse of something given, whether material blessing in the world (1 Cor. 7:31) or apostolic authority/power (1 Cor. 9:18). The New Testament also describes the worst occasion of abuse that occurred in history, namely, the gross maltreatment and crucifixion of Jesus Christ. With respect to Him we find abuse reach its most egregious kind and severity: corrupt religious and civil authorities condemned the righteous Man; Jewish citizens mocked, spit upon, and beat Him (Luke 22:63-65); Roman soldiers scourged and crowned Him with thorns (John 19:1-2). To make it all worse, His disciples also forsook Him (Mark 14:50) and Peter denied Him (Luke 26:75).
How then should we define abuse? A friend of mine and fellow OPC minister offered this simple and helpful suggestion: the sin of abuse is “when someone intentionally uses his power to inflict serious harm upon another person.” This definition wisely includes the elements of purpose (intent), effect (serious harm), the victim (another person) and the aggravation of the breach/misuse of responsibility (power).
A Concerning Trajectory
In almost all the discussions about abuse that I have encountered, I have rarely heard mention of the Law of God. Here is an important question: under which commandment do sins of abuse rightly fall? Before reading further, I would like you to answer that in your mind. Most of the people to whom I have posed this question have referenced the sixth commandment, “You shall not murder.” It often tragically includes the seventh commandment, “You shall not commit adultery.” However, we must not overlook the relationship of this category of sin to the fifth commandment.
The fifth commandment establishes the framework in which all social ethics can and must occur. For life, purity, work/property, truth, and contentment to thrive, all must preserve the honor and perform the duty that belongs to everyone in their several places and relations, as superiors, inferiors, and equals (WSC 64). This is true for family, church, and society at large. Affirming that sins of abuse fall within the scope of things prohibited in the fifth commandment requires consideration of the categories of that commandment, namely, superiors, inferiors, and equals. This creates quite a dilemma for those seeking to deconstruct authority, especially within the family and church. Why? Because for the sin of abuse to be truly heinous—and it is—it requires a category of relational and positional inferiority/superiority (WLC 151). The trouble is that this is anathema in our egalitarian, feministic, and psychologized age.
There seems to be a movement in the church seeking to dislocate abuse from the category of sin. Why would anyone in the church want to do this? Perhaps it is because there is pressure, and there seems to be a lot of momentum, for the church to seek outside help related to sins of abuse. There are claims that the church does not know how to handle abuse (more on that in another article). Here is the real problem that I believe underlies the failure of those frequently using the term abuse to provide a clear, biblical definition: the preference of the term abuse dislocated from sin, moves abuse out of the moral and spiritual realm and into the psychological. In other words, it tends to shift the serious matters at hand from that which is properly clerical and refers them to the clinical. That is not to say that pastors and elders never need help. For example, when sins occur that are criminal (like sexual abuse of children), it is necessary to involve appropriate law enforcement. However, in matters that rightly fall under the spiritual realm and responsibility given to elders, Christ’s church needs to think more carefully before outsourcing to the local counseling clinic.
The church in this nation has sadly abdicated far too much in the last century. Education has been given over largely to the State. Care for the poor, widow, fatherless, and elderly has in large measure been usurped by the State. Will the church now hand over the care of the soul to “state licensed” psychologists and become subject to them? It will be a devastating and dangerous thing if the society of the redeemed makes itself subservient to an unaccountable panel of experts, especially if they are unbiblical.
In conclusion, let us revisit the egregious sin of abuse in Judges 19. What does God call it? In Hosea 9:7-9 He says, “The days of punishment have come; the days of recompense have come. Israel knows! The prophet is a fool, the spiritual man is insane, because of the greatness of your iniquity and great enmity. The watchman of Ephraim is with my God; but the prophet is a fowler’s snare in all his ways—enmity in the house of his God. They are deeply corrupted, as in the days of Gibeah. He will remember their iniquity; He will punish their sins” (emphasis mine). God called that abuse iniquity and sin because it is wrong before Him. Sin cannot be dealt with apart from the cross of Jesus Christ, the preaching and ministering of which God has committed not to psychologists, but to His church.
The trend toward psychologizing sin is a troubling one, certainly so if this is true of the OPC. Will the overture coming before the 88th General Assembly be a helpful corrective? I will examine that question in my next article.
Proposed Overture to the 88th GA of the OPC.pdfDownload
Mike Myers is a Minister in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and is Pastor of Heritage OPC in Royston, Ga. This article is used with permission.[1] J. Gresham Machen, What Is Faith? The Banner of Truth Trust, 13-14. This is very similar to a statement from J.C. Ryle in the opening sentence of Knots Untied, “It may be laid down as a rule, with tolerable confidence, that the absence of accurate definitions is the very life of religious controversy. If men would only define with precision the theological terms which they use, many disputes would die. Scores of excited disputants would discover that they do not really differ, and that their disputes have arisen from their own neglect of the great duty of explaining the meaning of words.”
[2] Q. 151. What are those aggravations that make some sins more heinous than others?Sins receive their aggravations,
From the persons offending; if they be of riper age, greater experience or grace, eminent for profession, gifts, place, office, guides to others, and whose example is likely to be followed by others.
From the parties offended: if immediately against God, his attributes, and worship; against Christ, and his grace; the Holy Spirit, his witness, and workings; against superiors, men of eminency, and such as we stand especially related and engaged unto; against any of the saints, particularly weak brethren, the souls of them, or any other, and the common good of all or many.
From the nature and quality of the offence: if it be against the express letter of the law, break many commandments, contain in it many sins: if not only conceived in the heart, but breaks forth in words and actions, scandalize others, and admit of no reparation: if against means, mercies, judgments, light of nature, conviction of conscience, public or private admonition, censures of the church, civil punishments; and our prayers, purposes, promises, vows, covenants, and engagements to God or men: if done deliberately, willfully, presumptuously, impudently, boastingly, maliciously, frequently, obstinately, with delight, continuance, or relapsing after repentance.
From circumstances of time, and place: if on the Lord’s day, or other times of divine worship; or immediately before or after these, or other helps to prevent or remedy such miscarriages: if in public, or in the presence of others, who are thereby likely to be provoked or defiled.Related Posts:
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Do Unto Authors
The author is the source of meaning, and the text is the means of meaning. Because the text is public, readers are able to attend to the author’s intention embedded in his words. And good readers attend both to the explicit and implicit dimensions of an author’s meaning.
Picture yourself in a group Bible study. Your small group is studying the book of Ephesians, and you’ve made it to chapter 5. Someone reads aloud verse 18: “Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit.” Then Steve, the new guy, says, “Well, Paul clearly forbids getting drunk on wine. I’m just thankful that he said nothing about getting drunk on whiskey. That’s my favorite way to become intoxicated.”
We all intuitively recognize that Steve is mistaken. We might even think him absurd. But how do we explain his error? My guess is that we would say something like, “Steve, that’s not what the Bible means. Paul intended to prohibit all drunkenness, not just drunkenness from wine.” To which Steve might reply, “But that’s not what the Bible says. Paul mentioned wine only. I’m sticking to the text.” Or he might say, “That’s just your interpretation. I’m talking about what the Bible means to me.”
Learn the Habit of Reading Well
When people ask what I do for a living, I often say, “My job is to teach college students how to read.” This is only half a joke, because the reality is that our educational system and society has left many people incapable of reading well. That’s why, at Bethlehem College & Seminary, our approach to education centers on imparting to our students certain habits of heart and mind.
In all of our programs, we aim to enable and motivate studentsto observe their subject matter accurately and thoroughly,
to understand clearly what they have observed,
to evaluate fairly what they have understood by deciding what is true and valuable,
to feel intensely according to the value of what they have evaluated,
to apply wisely and helpfully in life what they understand and feel, and
to express in speech and writing and deeds what they have seen, understood, felt, and applied in such a way that its accuracy, clarity, truth, value, and helpfulness can be known and enjoyed by others.There is a certain order to these habits. Before you can feel appropriately, you must evaluate rightly. And before you can evaluate rightly, you must first observe accurately and understand clearly. Note this: evaluation depends upon understanding. Without clear understanding of what someone has said or written, evaluation is impossible, because you have nothing to evaluate. You can’t say whether something is true or false, good or bad, until you first know what the something is.
Meaning and Significance Are Not the Same
My own experience as a teacher suggests that there are many confusions and pitfalls around the question of “meaning” when we read a text. Consider this a crash course on the meaning of meaning.
Let’s begin with the Golden Rule: “Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them” (Matthew 7:12). When it comes to reading, we ought to practice Golden Rule Interpretation. That is, we ought to treat authors the way we want to be treated. No one wants his own words treated like a wax nose that a reader can bend according to his will. No one likes to have his words twisted into something he didn’t intend. When we speak or write, we mean something, and we want that meaning to stand—to be understood and respected as ours (even if others disagree with us). And so, given that’s how we want to be treated, we ought to treat authors the same.
To do this, we must distinguish between what the author meant by his words and the effects of his words on subsequent people and events. For clarity, let’s refer to the first as meaning. Texts mean what authors mean by them. The second we may call significance. The author’s meaning can be related to different texts, contexts, concepts, situations, people, places—anything you can think of, really.
Meaning and significance are distinct. Meaning is stable through time; significance may and does change. Meaning is about what authors do in public by means of words (as one theologian puts it). Significance is about the effects of those words on everything else. Meaning is fixed and bounded; significance is, in principle, limitless. When an author writes something, he means this and not that. But significance has to do with the relation between the author’s meaning and this, that, and the other.
With this basic distinction in hand, let’s consider four puzzles in relation to meaning: the source of meaning, the means of meaning, the levels of intent, and the boundaries of meaning. To aid in solving these puzzles, we’ll use Steve’s surprising interpretation of what the Bible says in Ephesians 5:18 as a test case.
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