Politics and Law
Written by Ben C. Dunson |
Wednesday, November 8, 2023
Both biblical law and natural law serve as our guides, though we must determine what aspects of biblical law were unique to Israel’s existence under the Mosaic covenant. Put differently: the basis of contemporary human law consists in the moral core of biblical law that is perpetually binding, whether that be determined through the general equity of OT law or through natural law.
Introduction
In the Lord’s Prayer Jesus teaches his disciples to beseech God: “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt 6:10). God’s will is always done in heaven. What, then, about the earth? Christians have been pondering this question since the beginning of the church. In this article, I will set out the classic Protestant answer to this question, an answer that I hope to show is biblical as well.
Although there are some Christians who do not believe that God’s law should have much (if any) impact on anything outside of the individual believer’s soul, this has not been the majority view in the church historically. Christians have long argued, in fact, that when Jesus taught us to pray for God’s will to be done on earth he meant that we should in some sense seek for this to be manifest in families, communities, and even the civil magistrates and legal codes of a people or nation. How precisely that is to be done has been widely debated.
Some, for example, would argue that the concrete particulars of the Mosaic law should be applied in comprehensive detail today, even those aspects of the law we would today call “civil” (including specific punishments for infractions). This is called Theonomy.
Others would argue for a very minimalistic use of divine law, limiting such exclusively to the components of law found in the Noahic covenant in Genesis 9: mainly preventing and punishing violence and theft and ensuring that society does not completely degenerate into anarchy. This is usually called a Reformed Two Kingdoms (R2K) approach, although some Baptists have also been significantly influenced by this view.
For those new to this discussion the label for a third view can be confusing at first, since it has come to be called the Classic Two Kingdoms view (sometimes the Magisterial Two Kingdoms view, since it is argued to originate among the magisterial Protestant Reformers, both Lutheran and Reformed). This view is distinguished from the R2K view in that it has a much more comprehensive place for God’s moral law in its approach to the civil magistrate, but is also distinguished from Theonomy in that it argues that the specifics of the “civil” legislation for Old Testament Israel do not remain in force today, even though there is often much that can be gleaned from the moral dimension of those laws.
A final approach would be that of Anabaptism, which in its most extreme form argues that God’s law can have nothing to do with earthly government, and thus that Christians must avoid politics and government altogether. Many Evangelicals today tend toward Anabaptism, though not usually in its most extreme form (the form found in the time of the Reformation). There are of course many approaches in non-Protestant traditions, though I will not focus on these.
By What Standard?
In the Sermon on the Mount Jesus told those listening: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matt 5:17). On the surface this would seem like a pretty straightforward statement on how Christians should apply God’s law to life in this world, including to politics. They should simply obey it as it comes to them in the Old Testament. If a law forbade the eating of any “living creature” from the ocean or a river that did not have “fins and scales” (Lev 11:10) then the Christian must not eat such a thing either. If a law prescribes stoning to death a “man or a woman who is a medium or a necromancer” (Lev 20:27) then such (astrologers and the like) should be stoned to death today as well.
It is not, however, quite so simple. Jesus also says he came to “fulfill” (v. 17) and “accomplish” (v. 18) the law. Jesus is certainly not contradicting himself in Matt 5:17, but we must explain how it can be simultaneously true that he both fulfills the law and does not abolish it. Other texts in the New Testament use similar language of fulfillment. In Rom 13:10, for example, the apostle Paul writes that “love is the fulfilling of the law.” And Paul writes elsewhere that at the heart of being a Christian is “keeping the commandments of God” (1 Cor 7:19). Jesus’ brother James calls God’s law “perfect” (James 1:25) and says that “if you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself,’ you are doing well” (James 2:8).
The questions confronting us can be formulated simply: in what sense (if any) is God’s law binding today, and in what sense (if any) is it not? To answer these questions we must provide a more systematic treatment of God’s law in the Bible.
The Threefold Division of the Law
Probably the most historically significant way of explaining the role of God’s law in his providential plan is what is known as the threefold division of the law. In this approach, God’s law is divided into three categories, or aspects: moral, ceremonial, and civil. Put briefly, the moral aspect is that which is timelessly true, that which God always requires of all people at all times, and which is not restricted to OT Israel. Murder, for example, is always wrong for all people, no matter what. That is the moral aspect of the law. The ceremonial aspect would include all laws regulating sacrifices, priesthood, and the temple, as well as those that create a physical differentiation between Israel and her pagan neighbors such as food laws, clothing laws, agricultural laws, and the like. Finally, the civil aspect covers laws defining and regulating Israel’s existence as a nation or state in the Old Testament, including judicial laws pertaining to crimes and punishments. The threefold division in its classic form goes back to at least Aquinas, though there are many precursors (Philip Ross’s From the Finger of God: The Biblical and Theological Basis for the Threefold Division of the Law provides an excellent summary of the history). But is it faithful to the Scriptures?
The threefold division has been heavily criticized among evangelical scholars. Contemporary New Testament scholar D.A. Carson, for example, in his commentary on Matthew (p. 143), states that “although the tripartite distinction is old, its use as a basis for explaining the relationship between the testaments is not demonstrably derived from the NT and probably does not antedate Aquinas.”
The threefold division is said to be unbiblical because no text of Scripture divides the law in this way. It is often added that no Israelite would have felt free to divide the law, only adhering to certain parts of it. Both of these claims are true, though only superficially. They are superficial because doctrines such as the threefold division of the law are built upon an examination of the totality of Scripture and the various ways in which it treats God’s laws, not merely on the basis of single sentences or isolated proof-texts. The Westminster Confession of Faith (1.6) helpfully states that a doctrine is biblical either if it is “expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture.” This is vitally important. Doctrinal propositions are sometimes stated expressly (that is: explicitly): “a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ” (Gal 2:16), etc. But sometimes they are deduced from “good and necessary consequence,” which is to say that they are necessary conclusions that follow from something we see in Scripture (possibly in one passage, but also possibly as a conclusion derived from many passages taken together). The Trinity (a word not found anywhere in the Bible) is a perfect example. There is only one God (Deut 6:4; 1 Tim 2:5); the Father is fully God (John 6:27; Rom 1:7); the Son is fully God (Rom 9:5; Titus 2:13); and the Holy Spirit is fully God (Matt 28:19; Luke 1:35; Acts 5:3). The doctrine of the Trinity follows from these facts as a good and necessary consequence. Such conclusions must be both good (not contradicting anything else in the Bible) and necessary (it is an inescapable conclusion). The threefold division of the law, like the Trinity, is a good and necessary consequence of the totality of biblical teaching.
Ceremonial Law
First, consider the ceremonial aspect of OT law. It is absolutely true that no Israelite in the OT could decide to keep only some aspects of the law. The law was an indivisible whole for him, though even in the OT it is clear that some aspects of the law are more important than others. The very structure of the Mosaic law displays this hierarchy of importance: as a unit the Ten Commandments, or “all of these words” (Exod 20:1), constitute the covenant made between God and Israel (Exod 34:28). These ten commandments in Exodus are set apart from all the rest of God’s laws, which are grouped together as “the rules” (Exod 21:1; see also Exod 24:3; Lev 27:34; Num 19:1; Deut 4:13–14; and Paul’s similar phrase “the law of commandments expressed in ordinances” in Eph 2:14-15).
This hierarchy is seen elsewhere in the OT as well. God could say to Israel through the prophet Amos, for example: “I hate, I despise your feasts, and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies” (Amos 5:21). These feasts were commanded in God’s own law, and yet they are seen to be relatively less important than other laws, laws, for example, that have to do with basic matters of justice, which is what Amos contrasts the feasts with a few verses later: “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24). God relativizes one part of his own law in Amos 5. This could only be true if certain laws (such as sacrifices and feasts) are not in fact timeless, universal principles of right and wrong. That said, Israel was not meant actually to cease their feasts, but simply to combine outward observance with an inward sincerity of heart.
It is with the coming of Christ, however, that a unique and divisible ceremonial dimension of the law becomes clear. OT food laws (Acts 10:9–16, 28–29; Mark 7:19) and other laws of outward separation (Gal 2:11–14; Eph 2:14–16) are done away with because they served their temporary purpose in God’s history of redemption. This temporary purpose was to set Israel physically apart from her pagan neighbors in order to teach a spiritual principle of set-apartness from moral defilement. With Christ’s coming only the inward demand for holiness remains (1 Pet 1:14–16). The letter to the Hebrews shows in a fairly comprehensive way that the laws pertaining to the tabernacle/temple (Heb 9:1–11), priesthood (Heb 7:23–28; 10:11–14), and sacrifices (Heb 9:12–14, 23–28; 10:1–10)–in short, the whole system of OT worship–have also ceased with Christ’s coming, since the reality those laws foreshadowed has now arrived (Heb 7:11–12; 8:5–6, 13; 10:1). In short, the ceremonial laws of the OT–that is, the laws of outward holiness and worship–have served their temporary purpose in God’s plan and now are no longer binding on the Christian believer.
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Can a Temporary Session Impose a Pastor on a Church Plant?
The core of the issue addressed by the Eggert concurrence was a disagreement between a temporary session and some of the members of the congregation they were supposed to be serving and shepherding. All church members have a duty to honor their leaders, “to submit to the government and discipline of the Church, and to study her purity and peace.” But this submission does not mean members of a mission congregation must have their consciences bound by the preferences and recommendations of a temporary session comprised of men who are not members of the congregation.
How a church-plant, or “mission church,” (BCO 5-1) transitions to become a “Particular Church” is outlined in BCO 5-9.
Until a “mission church” becomes a particular church, the church plant is usually under the care of a Presbytery by means of one of two temporary arrangements. In the first arrangement, a commission of elders from the Presbytery is appointed to serve as a temporary session (BCO 15-1). In the second arrangement, the “mission church” is erected as a daughter church of another particularized congregation (BCO 5-3b), and the session of that particularized congregation serves as the overseeing session for the mission church.
A mission church is usually served by a “church planter” who is also a member of the commission serving as session (BCO 5-4a). This church planter is called by Presbytery to do the work of ministry organizing the church plant/mission work with the hopes that it will one day be particularized according to the steps outlined in BCO 5-9.
A crucial step toward becoming a particular congregation is the election of a pastor and other officers.
The election of a Teaching Elder can sometimes be confusing in the case of a mission work. Ordinarily, a church plant already has had a Teaching Elder ministering as a “church planter” among the saints in that congregation for quite some time. In many instances, the members of the church plant will elect that church planter “to be their pastor” (BCO 5-9f), but not always.
If the members of a congregation “choose not to continue the pastoral relationship” with the church planter, they are free to follow the steps of BCO 20 to elect a different pastor in the ordinary manner.
Before the Standing Judicial Commission (SJC) last year, there was a curious case that tested the principles of our Presbyterian polity and challenged the integrity of our Constitution regarding the selection of a pastor by a church plant.
A group of men from a mission work met with the session – including the church planter – overseeing the plant to express their desire that candidates other than the initial church planter be considered for the position of pastor.
It was an undeniable difficult situation. The church planter had labored for years, investing much of his time and energies in the church plant. But now a group of men from several households in the congregation went to the elders and expressed a disagreement with the church planter’s philosophy of ministry and vision for the work.
The Session responded to the men’s concerns by doing three things. First, the Session demanded the men repent of any sin whether of omission or commission against the church planter. Second, the Session demanded the men reaffirm their membership vows. And third, the Session reaffirmed its belief that one of their number should be “offered to the congregation as a candidate to serve as its pastor.”
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Retrieving Christus Victor
It is impossible to ignore the motif of victory in Christ’s work. Therefore Aulén’s contention that Christus Victor has been understated among Protestants is worth consideration. Towards the beginning of his book, Aulén outlines four reasons he believes the classic view has been neglected. One of them is his claim that many moderns find conflict imagery to be disagreeable, even primitive and crude. I saw this myself when sharing Oh, Sleeper lyrics with a friend. In one their tracks, God sings to Satan: “You’ll bow at my feet, or I’ll rip out your knees / and make of your face, all the carnage you crave.” My friend thought the imagery was unnecessarily violent and unsettling. But then so is a lot of what we read in the Bible.
Despite the criticisms levelled against Mel Gibson’s The Passion, especially from Protestant quarters, his portrayal of Gethsemane is profoundly theological. After pleading with the Father to be spared the cross, Jesus stands up and crushes a snake’s head. This striking imagery alludes to God’s promise in Genesis 3:15, “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.” This has traditionally been called the protevangelion, meaning ‘first gospel.’ It promised that even though the reality for fallen humanity would be conflict with evil powers (Genesis 3:14), the promised end of that strife is victory. As Gibson depicts, Christ’s life was marked by conflict. Yet it ended in God’s promised conquest.
But where was that victory won? Identifying the serpent as Satan, in Revelation 12:11-12 we read that Satan was conquered by the blood of the Lamb. Mysteriously then, it is through his death—and resurrection—that Christ triumphs over evil and brings us back to God. To use an old but obscure word: at the cross Christ achieves ‘atonement.’
Atonement Theories
In my own experience, we often tend to downplay this dramatic struggle between God and evil when speaking about the atonement. But standing at either end of history we see a promise of conflict; and that same struggle climaxing in God’s victory. For these reasons, the Eastern Orthodox tradition (following the early church fathers) has long treated the Christus Victor view of atonement as primary—sometimes exclusively so. This view of the atonement received renewed attention amongst Protestants in the 20th century, thanks to Gustav Aulén.
Aulén outlined three views of the atonement: classic or dramatic (Christus Victor); objective (Latin); and subjective (Christus Exemplar). But for Aulén these were not three aspects of Christ’s unified work. Rather he set his classic view, or Christus Victor, over against the other two. Aulén’s view of the atonement centred on “divine conflict and victory.” However, the New Testament speaks of Christ’s atoning work in a variety of ways. These are related, even mutually dependant. Thus Kevin Vanhoozer urges us to think of a plurality of metaphors rather than polarised models.
In the remainder of this post I will briefly unpack Christus Victor using Aulén’s book and point out some of its undervalued strengths.
Introducing Christus Victor
In Aulén’s presentation of Christus Victor, Christ’s victory over the evil powers brings about a new relation between God and man, which we might call reconciliation or atonement. In the work of the Son, God reconciles man to God through conquering mankind’s enemies. This victory was dramatic, not dryly rational. In fact, Aulén described this divine drama as contra rationem et legam (against reason and law). It was not man atoning God through bearing his righteous judgment in our place, appropriated by an intellectual faith and resulting in imputed righteousness.
As Robert Letham writes: “Today there is almost universal distaste for thinking of God and salvation in legal categories.” Aulén certainly felt that the Latin (objective) view of the atonement was too rationalistic and abstract. There is some validity in his criticisms. Where Aulén comes unstuck is in claiming that Christ suffering the legal penalty for sin in our place cannot be fitted with the motif of victory.
An Atonement Theme; Not the Whole
One of the church’s leading historians, Justo González, writes: “From the very beginning the church proclaimed Jesus as its Saviour, and in the Patristic age there had been a variety of views as to how Christ saves sinners.” Thus Aulén overstates his position in claiming that Christus Victor dominated the church’s doctrine of salvation for the first millennium of its existence. Might we not see, in this variety of positions on the atonement that none can exclusively address the whole work of Christ?
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An Overture on Titles & Ordination
Some in the PCA are not content to contextualize their presentation, liturgy, or worship — they also feel the need to contextualize polity for an egalitarian cultural mindset that has no patience for the biblical doctrines of office and ordination that are found in our BCO. Their ecclesial innovation can only harm the peace and purity of the church in a connectional church.
The Presbyterian Church in America’s (PCA) Book of Church Order (BCO) contains no glossary, but maybe it needs one. This is not to fault the BCO’s early-70’s authors — no previous generation of Presbyterians had trouble figuring out what most of the words meant, including those words that denominate the offices and officers of the church. Few presbyters have had the foresight to peer into the ecclesial future and preemptively or prophetically prevent future problems. That being the case, the PCA has often had to tighten up things that have come loose, knock out dents with the brute force of committee-produced tools, or bolt new parts on. Usually, this is done by way of an overture — a request to amend the constitution of which the BCO is a part.
To understand the effect of these as-needed, post-accident, construction-by-committee repairs, modifications, and additions to the BCO, it may be helpful to picture a large early-70s station wagon, not unlike many parked, no doubt, outside of Briarwood Presbyterian Church in 1973 when the PCA was formed — a Family Truckster, if you will (if you get the movie reference). Like the family wagons from the days of leisure suits, the BCO is big; it is traditional, being based on earlier editions of the old Southern Church’s standards; it is clunky, not always aesthetically pleasing, and not good in the curves. Some parts fall off. Others have the tacked-on look of a tasteless trim package or an ill-chosen accessory. Still, the BCO family wagon is reliable, and it has served the PCA family well. But its authors could not foresee a postmodern future where churches would contextualize not just their styles of presentation and worship, but even their polity.
Tightening up the Book of Church Order may take the form of addition or deletion, prescription or proscription. This year one overture requests the addition of 23 words to BCO 7-3 which concerns the misuse of ecclesial titles. The proposed addition is in bold:
No one who holds office in the Church ought to usurp authority therein, or receive official titles of spiritual preeminence, except such as are employed in the Scripture. Furthermore, unordained people should not be referred to as, or given the titles connected to, the ecclesial offices of pastor, elder, or deacon.
There is nothing complicated about the PCA’s polity. There are two offices (elder and deacon) and one of those offices (elder) is divided into two classes (ruling and teaching). That’s it. All officers are ordained. No unordained person is or can be an officer. The overture in question would clarify what the founders of the PCA knew and understood — offices are serious business (being, as the BCO Preface reminds us, gifts from the ascended Christ) and officeholders ought to be properly identified and honored. Offices and officeholders should be called by their proper names and titles, no more and no less. When a name or title is given to one with no right to bear it, the rightful bearers of the name or title are dishonored, and the very integrity and definition of the office in question is degraded.
Pastor, for instance, may mean anything an independent megachurch wants it to mean. Such is not the case in the PCA with its prescribed and well-defined polity. In chapter 4 of the BCO we are told that the officers of a particularized local church are “its teaching and ruling elders and its deacons,” and that “the church Session…consists of its pastor, pastors, its associate pastor(s) and its ruling elders.” In every case, the BCO use of “pastor” refers to an ordained teaching elder. Thus, calling or portraying anyone as a pastor in a PCA church — whether in verbal, written, or online communications — who is not credentialed and ordained as a teaching elder is a violation of our order and a denigration of the office.Just a day or two after the abovementioned overture appeared on the PCA General Assembly website, someone pointed out to us a PCA church with a “Pastor of Women.” It is possible that an ordained teaching elder (probably an associate or assistant pastor) might be given such a title in a church’s organizational structure, but in this case, the “Pastor of Women” is a woman, so clearly not ordained, not an elder, not — it must be said — a pastor.
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