Learning Apologetics from Augustine
In Confessions, he tells a better and more rational story about reason, interweaving how our thinking depends on trust, how our deepest desires move us along through life, and how disordered loves misalign our intellectual quests for the truth. And he does this all while layering his account with the Scriptures; most notably the Psalms, Luke’s story of the prodigal, and the opening chapters of Genesis. Confessions is thus suggestive for how we might integrate various disciplines—exegesis, theology, counseling, and preaching—together to witness in a secular age in which “coming of age” is highly prized.
Augustine of Hippo (354-430) is arguably the most significant post-biblical theologian in the history of Christianity and, as one recent historian has put it, the “greatest apologist of the Latin west.” Hence it was a surprise to us years ago when doing research for our textbook on apologetics to find that Augustine was almost entirely absent from modern debates on apologetic methodology. A question arose: what would happen if we retrieved Augustine to aid the church’s apologetic witness within post-Christendom?
To answer this question, we focused on his two most enduring books. With the reception history of The City of God, which has paid so much attention to its political and theological implications, it is important to not miss that Augustine’s stated purpose is to persuade skeptics and reassure doubters. He made clear in a letter, penned after City of God’s completion, that he wanted the work distributed to those who despise Christians and to the pagan seekers. Moreover, we also found that Confessions should be read as a work of persuasion–a story-shaped prayer, leading readers through competing philosophies before holding up the cross-shaped path to the good life. Retrieving both books together can help us address the individual and societal challenges of our present age.
Who might Augustine want to speak with today?
Before getting to the specifics of how, Augustine might want to speak to the who. Many present-day pastors and theologians, though inheritors of the Augustinian tradition, have sold off their apologetic birthright, mistakenly assuming apologetics is synonymous with a flattened Enlightenment-style rationality and seeing it as irrelevant to their ministry. This is a fair criticism of some forms of apologetics, but not of apologetics per se.
Long before the Enlightenment set the terms of so many debates, Augustine set out in The City of God to “persuad[e] a person either to enter the city of God without hesitation or to remain there with perseverance.” Mindful of the pronounced changes taking place in society and the challenges Christians felt, Augustine believed it was his pastoral calling to interact with these tectonic shifts and pour himself into the task of persuading the anxious, the doubting, and the skeptical. We can only imagine Augustine instructing pastors and theologians today to do the same.
Augustine would likely also want to have a long conversation with modern-day apologists. While he would almost certainly be pleased to observe how some of his apologetic seeds have blossomed through the ages, he would probably raise some concerns. Over the past century, at least in the United States, debate about apologetics has largely consisted of back-and-forths between evidential and presuppositional apologists regarding methodology. Though both sides have much to offer, the ways these methodological debates have often been framed have left our apologetic imaginations entrenched inside certain systems; meanwhile, the cultural winds outside have been rapidly changing. As Charles Taylor has highlighted with his use of the term “social imaginaries,” our late-modern communities have been inhaling ways of thinking, believing, and living—not mostly by way of syllogisms or analytic argument, but through stories, symbols, and artifacts—which have made Christianity seem not only irrational but oppressive and dangerous. Our cultural air is far different from what it was even fifty years ago. A changing culture, however, would not surprise Augustine; he saw it in his own time. But the idea that we would be unwilling to adapt how we attempt to persuade likely would surprise him.
In his book Territories of Human Reason, Alister McGrath has aptly summarized the work of scholars who study what is considered “rational” in different contexts. Basic logic is an important aspect of rationality, which is universally accepted. However, it is what is added to the laws of logic that does the heavy lifting in perceptions of rationality. And what is added to the laws of logic includes the available evidence for a particular person or community and the prevailing social imaginary. Hence, when we neglect to train ministers, evangelists, and apologists in how to evaluate and diagnose our culture’s dominant stories, symbols, and artifacts we risk neglecting the larger assumed frameworks within which people reason.
Moreover, in both teaching and in practice, contemporary apologetics has not sufficiently recognized the importance of humans as doxological creatures. Our desires shape how we reason and what we believe. This Augustinian insight is now being affirmed from a variety of different disciplines.
These two problems—namely, a lack of training in cultural analysis and at least a functionally reductionistic anthropology—go hand in hand. When we fail to integrate sociocultural analysis into our discipleship, we are left flatfooted when we attempt to engage the doubt and unbelief as well as the hearts and minds of those in our communities and parishes.
How might Augustine help us?
In Confessions, we read of a boy raised in church by his mother, only to walk away from the faith and pursue intellectual maturity. Confessions is an account of his truly growing up, which can help us counter contemporary secular coming of age stories.
Charles Taylor describes how many today assume they have come of age by simply subtracting religion from their lives and rooting themselves in science and common-sense reasoning.
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Lessons In Becoming a Better Listener
“Good listening is a great means of grace in the dynamic of true Christian fellowship. Not only is it a channel through which God continues to pour his grace into our lives, but it’s also his way of using us as his means of grace in the lives of others.”
It is one thing to hear, but another thing to listen. Good communication and healthy relationships depend upon not only hearing the words other people say, but on carefully listening to what they mean to communicate. To listen is to love.
But if we are honest, few of us are good listeners. It’s easy enough to hear others, but very difficult to truly listen to them. That may be particularly true and particularly important in the context of the local church where we are called to love one another, to care for one another, and to bear one another’s burdens. None of this is possible without good listening. David Mathis addresses this problem in his excellent book Habits of Grace and offers six lessons in good listening.
Good listening requires patience. We must not succumb to hasty or inattentive listening, but be willing to listen patiently and thoroughly. We must focus on the speaker and not on the inevitable distractions in our minds or in our environment. We must listen in such a way that we are not already planning what we will say to combat the speaker or to defend ourselves. “Good listening,” says Mathis, “silences the smartphone and doesn’t stop the story, but is attentive and patient.”
Good listening is key to fulfilling so many of the ethical commands of the Bible, the greatest of which is love.
Good listening is an act of love. When we listen poorly, we are just waiting for the opportunity to cut off the other person so we can move on with our lives. “Poor listening rejects; good listening embraces. Poor listening diminishes others, while good listening invites them to exist, and to matter.” Good listening is key to fulfilling so many of the ethical commands of the Bible, the greatest of which is love.Related Posts:
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How Do You Put to Death the Flesh? (Part Two) 8 Steps
Even after justification, one can live either according to the flesh or according to the Spirit. Although God changed the operating system, you still have functional control over your life. Even though you now are in-Christ, a new man, your heart remains active either for or against God. Therefore, we must actively put to death the flesh.
Today in our second post related to putting to death the flesh, we look at eight steps to help you mortify the flesh. Earlier this week in posts, we have already discussed from Romans 8 both the incredible comfort of God’s grace and the call of God’s grace. In part one of this post, we answered the question, “What is the flesh?” Remember, as sinners who are in Christ, we no longer have any condemnation; instead, we have been adopted into God’s family, become a joint-heir with Jesus, and can call God “Daddy.” However, we recognize that although we are accepted into God’s family as we are, God still has an agenda by grace to grow us more into Christ, the process we call sanctification. To do this with the greatest proficiency and effectively as possible, the Apostle Paul tells us to mortify or put to death the flesh. Today, we answer the question, “How do you put to death the flesh?” with eight steps to mortify or put to death the flesh.
How Do You Put to Death the Flesh?
Understanding the difficulty of living consistent with our in-Christ, new man, righteous inner man which is clothed in true righteousness and holiness, Paul explained that we must seek to put to death the deeds of the flesh. As we discussed yesterday, although the power of the flesh is broken, the presence of sin remains. Sadly, even after justification, one can live either according to the flesh or according to the Spirit. Although God changed the operating system, you still have functional control over your life. Even though you now are in-Christ new man, your heart remains active either for or against God. Therefore, we must actively put to death the flesh.
Understanding the Battle
Paul describes the battle between the flesh and the Spirit in Galatians 5.
I say then: Walk in the Spirit, and you shall not fulfill the lust of the flesh. For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another, so that you do not do the things that you wish. But if you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law.
Now the works of the flesh are evident, which are: adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lewdness, idolatry, sorcery, hatred, contentions, jealousies, outbursts of wrath, selfish ambitions, dissensions, heresies, envy, murders, drunkenness, revelries, and the like; of which I tell you beforehand, just as I also told you in time past, that those who practice such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. (Gal 5:16-21)
And those who are Christ’s have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. (Gal 5:24)
Paul describes it as a battle. The Spirit leads you toward righteousness but your own fleshly desires and passions fight against that leading. For this reason, back in Romans, Paul instructs:
But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts. (Rom 13:14)
In a similar way to Galatians, he essentially highlights the battle between the Spirit and the flesh. Here, he refers to it as putting on Christ, which simply means to live consistent with your in-Christ, new man, righteous inner man. But, this is only part of the battle. In reference to the flesh, he admonishes us to starve it out or make no provision for the flesh to fulfill its lusts. Or, to put to death the flesh
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Staying Doctrinally-Settled
And what is the most sure way to be so firmly fixed? “Catechising is the best expedient for the grounding and settling of people. I fear one reason why there has been no more good done by preaching, has been because the chief heads and articles in religion have not been explained in a catechistical way. Catechising is laying the foundation.” (Heb. 6:1).[16]
“There is a great deal of comfort in skepticism,” writes Gordon H. Clark. “If truth is impossible of attainment, then one need not suffer the pains of searching for it… Skepticism dispenses with all effort… Skepticism is the position that nothing can be demonstrated.”[1]
Sadly, rather than displaying a Berean spirit in sanctified searching and confirming God’s truths, many Christians express a default “authenticity” in skeptical generalities to excuse themselves from determining and affirming specifics in deference to Scriptural authority.
Ministerial candidates take flabby, unproven exceptions to the Church’s time-tested confessional standards almost as a rule these days. Few believers would be compelled by R.C. Sproul’s appeal to engage in strenuous study and show oneself approved: “I think that we should seek to be faithful in small things that we may be prepared to be faithful in many things.”[2] Yet, as comfortable as skeptical non-commitment may feel, Clark warns, “Suspension of judgment… is but a disguised, if dignified, form of unbelief.”[3]
How refreshing to encounter Thomas Watson’s opening chapter to his book, A Body of Divinity, made up of his sermons through the Westminster Shorter Catechism. [4] In “A Preliminary Discourse to Catechising,” he writes, “Intending next Lord’s day to enter upon the work of catechising, it will not be amiss to give you a preliminary discourse, to show you how needful it is for Christians to be well instructed in the grounds of religion.”[5]
Watson’s text for this opening sermonic discourse is Colossians 1:23: If ye continue in the faith grounded and settled … His emphasis is on being settled in Christianity, and he would have us look not to succor ourselves in suspended reservations but to secure our resolve in the details of what the Scriptures principally teach regarding our belief concerning God and His required duty of us.[6]
Citing 1 Peter 5:10 and Jude 13, Watson writes, “It is the duty of Christians to be settled in the doctrine of faith … that they might not be meteors in the air, but fixed stars”.[7] He continues:
“To be unsettled in religion argues want of judgment. If their heads were not giddy, men would not reel so fast from one opinion to another. It argues lightness. As feathers will be blown every way, so will feathery Christians.”[8]
Such theological lightweights are the opposite of the church being “the pillar and ground of the truth” (1 Tim. 3:15). Thus, “…unsettled Christians are childish; the truths they embrace at one time, they reject at another.”[9] And isn’t this constant wavering in fact to be the wayward man James exposes as always unsettled and thus “unstable in all his ways” (James 1:8)?
Watson particularly warns would-be preachers and their Presbytery examiners about being unsettled:
“It is the great end of the word preached, to bring us to a settlement in religion … This is the grand design of preaching, not only for the enlightening, but for the establishing of souls; not only to guide them in the right way, but to keep them in it. Now, if you be not settled, you do not answer God’s end in giving you the ministry.” (He references Eph. 4:11-14 and Jer. 23:29.)[10]
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