Written by Dr. Jeffery J. Ventrella |
Wednesday, July 10, 2024
In their desperation, beleaguered people often yearn for a “strong man” or a King or a Christian Prince to order and redeem the public square—yet there is always buyer’s regret—and death—when the State is seen as Savior, not Servant.

Introduction
Truthxchange exists to Inform the public, Equip the Church, and Protect the Future. Last week, we explained the origins of pagan Political Idolatry and concluded by noting that in many cases, the Church itself has acted as a change agent by unintentionally producing an idol-generating reductionism. To better confront and overcome this trend, we Christians need to first look in the mirror. Since judgment begins “at the household of God,”[1] the Church needs to understand how this idolatry incubates and impacts our culture. And, the church needs to humbly and honestly understand how we may tolerate, or even embrace it, in our thinking. We must learn to think Christianly about the public square, including law and policy. Only in this way can we equip the broader Church to effectively repel pagan political idolatry at its roots. This begins by understanding Biblical Cosmology, the structure of real reality. Let’s get to the gist.
Paul’s Cosmological Structure of Law: The Law above the Law
A fundamental issue lurks underneath all political idolatry: who or what operates as “god” in the culture. That is, what is the transcendent or ultimate authority functioning in the culture and therefore affecting that culture’s legal and political system. The Church must be clear on this. If an evangelical Christian is abstractly asked, “What’s your ultimate authority?” they would no doubt quickly profess, “the Bible.” However, the real question is not so much what they profess, but how they function day to day in real time; what is their actual authority, how do they actually assess and make political decisions, particularly when it comes to considering matters of law and policy. We may be surprised to see that inclinations to and elements of idolatry have crept into our thinking.
Why is this the case? This often occurs by failing to connect Christ’s Lordship with law and policy. How so? The Church rightly confesses “Christ is Lord!” We need to also see that law expresses lordship. The operational law of a culture or system is functionally driven by the “lord” or dominant transcendental (authority) of that culture or system. We must both say and act consistently with our Lordship commitments.
When the Church confesses “Christ is Lord,” it in effect means He reigns over all things, including political entities whether “thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him.”[2]This means, among other things, that Christ’s standards, His Law, applies to all reality —it may not be confined, truncated, compartmentalized, or ignored—including with respect to policy and law. To depart from Christ’s Lordship in this area is to functionally invite idolatrous thinking into our public life no matter what we profess on Sunday morning with our lips.
So, why would this then be the case? From Paul’s perspective, “real reality” is “Twoist,” meaning that there exists a Creator-creation distinction, a fundamental binary: Romans 1:25. In the apostle’s mind, the Creator is holy, not only morally, but metaphysically; He is holy and wholly other.[3]
Consequently, the Creator alone is independent, and Paul elsewhere makes this point in addressing the philosophers in Athens. He emphasizes that the true God is the Creator God:
The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place…[4]
Paul emphasizes the Creator-ness of the true God as well as His aseity, or self-existent independence of the created order. Note carefully: He makes this point as he addresses the public square.
Correlatively, the creation, including by implication its positive law,[5] is therefore necessarily dependent and derivative. This means that its function, purpose, and meaning can be ultimately understand only in relation to God and his transcendent authority. Paul likewise alludes to this as well in the same Athenian discourse:
for “‘In him we live and move and have our being;’as even some of your own poets have said,“‘For we are indeed his offspring.’”[6]
Paul is saying we best and most fully understand the created things in relation to the Creator God. From this flows some key things. First, because the Creator alone is truly transcendent, His law will necessarily and properly be transcendent: the law above the law, sometimes called the natural law.[7] And, therefore, second, all law and policy must be dependent on and derivative from this ultimate unimpeachable standard.
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Written by Albert D. Taglieri |
Monday, July 4, 2022
Scripture is the source of the church’s life.  The church does not precede Scripture but arises in response to Scripture.  The church obeys and preaches the Scriptures, not judges them.  While the church hears Scripture, Scripture stands in judgment over the church.  If controversy is churchly, then it must be characterized by Scripture, for attention to Scripture defines the nature of church life. 

Introduction
Church meetings can be contentious.  When controversial topics are up for it is worthwhile to reflect on an essay by John Webster contained in his book The Domain of the Word, entitled “Theology and The Peace Of The Church.”[1]
Webster consistently addressed topics by following the “material order” of theology: God in himself prior to God’s works.  Here he moves starting from God through creation, redemption, church, theological reason, finally to controversy.  This ensures that the nature and conduct of controversy is rightly understood by its place within God’s economy.  The result is an extended theological meditation for approaching controversy.
I aim to highlight four lessons from Webster’s essay for consideration.  First: Webster views peace primarily as an indicative reality, accomplished by God—not merely as an imperative.  Second: Webster articulates a distinction between sinful anger and faithful zeal.  Third: Webster distinguishes between controversy within the fellowship of the saints and sinful conflict.  Fourth and finally: Webster emphasizes that Scripture is the rule of controversy.
In doing this, while I have my own perspectives on the various controversial topics, my goal is to avoid explicitly advocating any specific position—though I will use some of the topics for discussion.  Rather, my goal is to use Webster as a source of reflection on the proper conduct of controversy.
Lesson 1: Peace as Indicative
Webster consistently emphasizes God’s sovereignty.  The opening line illustrates: “in order to speak about conflict…theology must first speak about peace” (150).  Why?  Because peace is the condition, established by God, in which conflict occurs. It is therefore both real and primary.  And it starts within God: “Theology must first speak about the God of peace” before it can speak of peace in creation which God establishes (150).
To explain the sovereign reality of God’s peace, Webster tells us that “God is both pattern and principle of creaturely peace” (153).  Many acknowledge that God is the pattern of peace, but we must recall that he is also the principle, or the ground and cause, of peace.  To see him as merely an example which we must actuate is to follow Pelagianism, where Christ is merely an assistant to our efforts.  But to see him as the principle of peace acknowledges the reality that God creates peace, and we do not achieve it by our efforts.  Created peace flows out of the fullness of God’s own life: “his peace is neither enhanced by created peace nor diminished by its absence” (154).
If God creates peace, and it is therefore fundamental to the nature of the church, why do we see conflict?  Because peace unfolds in creation: “God secures the peaceful movement of created being” towards perfection (156).  Webster reminds us that God’s peace is eschatological – it is both already (real) and not yet (perfected).  So when Col. 3:5 commands “let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts,” the precept “is directed, not to making peace real, but to making it visible” (159).  Conflict is then merely “the lingering shadow which the rising sun has yet to chase away” (162).  To truly know and see this reality requires us to acknowledge God’s work as primary, and ours as derivative.
So what bearing does this have for our conduct of theological controversy?  It means that we may conduct controversy humbly and gently, even while passionately.  The work of redemption does not hang on the outcome of our controversy.  God’s action frees us from the responsibility (and stress) of guaranteeing a lack of conflict, as well as from guaranteeing perfection in the church.  This actually enables us to more honestly approach disagreements.  We don’t need to cover over disagreements for the sake of maintaining peace, because God’s peace is already real.  Only by acknowledging and addressing disagreements can God’s peace truly be seen.
God’s peace in the church also gives us confidence.  Controversy which is undertaken honestly, for “the furtherance of communion, not its erosion” trusts God to settle disagreements (168).  In this, all parties to a conflict can acknowledge that they are seeking obedience to God and peace with each other: even as that requires that God move them to repentance.  This position and intention is not victory at any costs, but rather obedience and love, preventing “self-conceit, mutual provocation and envy” (169).  Controversy is no place for pride or achievement, but a place for repentance.  It is not a place for self-justification, but for obedience.  God has spoken.  Controversy listens.
Lesson 2: The Character of Zeal
Much of Webster’s essay is taken up with the previous theme.  But as one of the final movements in his argument, he includes a discussion of the proper attitude for theological controversy.  Who is the peaceful theologian?  Out of inner peace (derived from Christ’s rule in the heart), the theologian is not disturbed or agitated by his conversation partners.  The contrast between anger and zeal explains this.  Evil anger follows the passions – it is moved by one’s opponent and reactive.  Zeal “is cooler and more objective,” even while an intense and deep spirit of opposition to evil (167).
Zeal can be corrupted by either deficiency or excess.  Deficiency in zeal is “indifference, weariness” which leads the church into error (167).  It too easily declares a false peace by finding points of unity.  But this is a self-established peace, not a God-established one—and a minimalistic one at that.  Zeal requires controversy to occur, that God’s truth may be obeyed.
Zeal in excess however, is also dangerous.  It too quickly becomes unrighteous anger.  Zeal may be tempered from excess by reinforcing the first theme: peace is from God.  If it is accomplished by God, then zeal is not for making peace, but for showing peace.  Webster prompts reflection by a helpful and thought-provoking, statement: “Zeal in a world in which God’s peaceful judgement is utterly real is a very different undertaking from zeal in a world where evil will not be stopped unless I shout it down” (168).  By refusing to concretely define the difference, he invites us to ponder it with Scripture.
Zeal must not let divergences in opinion “become weapons of the will” which divide the unity of Christ (169).  Zeal must start from the position of peace, and therefore must recognize that God’s peace is established not just between him and man, but also as “a society in which hostility is put to an end and peace is made” (157).  Controversy is conducted within the fraternal love of the church.
Lesson 3: Controversy, not Conflict
This churchly nature of controversy is one main way in which Webster differentiates between “controversy” and “conflict,” which is a sinful fight for dominance over others.  This theme comes into focus especially throughout Webster’s five rules “for edifying controversy” at the end of his essay (168).  In fact, the first four rules all in some way highlight this churchly nature of controversy.
Perhaps the most important thing to be kept in mind about the churchly nature of controversy is Webster’s third rule, which distinguishes “divergence of opinion” from “divergence of will” (169).  Are there “fundamental divergences about the Gospel” at stake in the controversy?  The situation is either within the church, or a disagreement concerning what the church is.  Only in the latter situation, where there are such “fundamental divergences about the Gospel” does controversy leave the bonds of a united will (169).
This provides an easy temptation in two ways though.  Certainly, some issues in current controversies can be seen as affecting the Gospel.  Does the divergence on the issue of sanctification and homosexuality constitute such an issue?  Or is there a more moderate diagnosis whereby a “fundamental divergence” can be distinguished from what is correctible error?  Certainly none of us is perfect, and this is a question that must be decided by every member of the controversy.  The temptation to over-diagnose an error into a charge of heresy must be combatted.  So must (and oftentimes more) the temptation to under-diagnose an error.  Surely the principles of Presbyterianism, while allowing certain latitudes, are not in any way “latitudinarian.”
Perhaps a few questions about divergences can help to illuminate the nature of certain controversies.  First: how is the Gospel articulated?  And then, secondly: how is obedience to the Gospel instructed in pastoral counsel?  A difference in articulation is no doubt cause for concern.  But our sin often implies our failure to practice what we preach.  Thus, agreement in articulation might camouflage a practical difference.  Since divergence is not only in opinion, but may also be in will, the second question further illuminates divergences.  What pastoral counsel is given, that characterizes the shape of obedience to the Gospel?  Is it pastoral counsel which declares the perfection of God’s redemption, and exhorts trusting him alone in faithful use of his means of grace?  Or is it pastoral counsel which declares a possible redemption, and encourages a routine of works and achievement, looking to works as the sign of acceptability before God?
While this may not be a total divergence in will, there is no doubt that it tends towards one.  The question of sanctification is certainly important, and requires characterization.  But there should be no doubt that some other questions, such as the composition of the PCA’s Standing Judicial Commission (SJC), do not even approach being divergences about the Gospel—even while remaining important questions.  It is less a matter of what obedience is, than it is about the precise manner which best actualizes such (agreed upon) obedience.
One final thing may be mentioned under this heading:
If controversy is within the church, then this shapes church discipline as controversy.  Discipline is not to be regarded as an evil process.  Too often, instead of distinguishing between controversy (good and rightly conducted) and conflict (the evil corruption of controversy), we are prone to view discipline as a “necessary evil.”  But if it is necessary, it cannot be evil because evil can never be necessary.  Conflict is sin, but controversy is the right response to sin’s presence and work.  Discipline’s reality is not necessarily a pronouncement of sin on anyone involved.  It is the context in which such a judgment, as to whether or not there is sin, may be made in obedience to Scripture.
Lesson 4: The Rule of Controversy
Webster’s final rule follows from the previous themes.  Controversy is ruled by Scripture.  He challenges the church of today: “Once confidence in the power of Scripture to determine matters in the church is lost, the politics of the saints quickly slides into agonistic practices in which we expect no divine comfort or direction” (170).
One may see a similar principle in the Westminster Confession of Faith: “The supreme judge by which all controversies of religion are to be determined, and all decrees of councils, opinions of ancient writers, doctrines of men, and private spirits, are to be examined, and in whose sentence we are to rest, can be no other but the Holy Spirit speaking in the Scripture.”[2]
The Scripture is God’s instrument of revelation and rule.  Because God’s peace is the primary reality, it is only seen and actualized by attention to his Word.  This attention is given by submission to Scripture.  Controversy can only make God’s peace visible if it is focused on hearing and obeying Scripture.
The Scripture is what zeal loves.  Zeal does not respond to offense, nor even to error considered in itself.  Zeal responds only from love of Scripture, which grounds it.  Zeal does not guard my own position or rightness.  It guards obedience and submission to God’s Word.  And so, when in controversy, zeal focuses on Scripture instead of on persons or secular philosophies.
Finally, Scripture is the source of the church’s life.  The church does not precede Scripture but arises in response to Scripture.  The church obeys and preaches the Scriptures, not judges them.  While the church hears Scripture, Scripture stands in judgment over the church.  If controversy is churchly, then it must be characterized by Scripture, for attention to Scripture defines the nature of church life.
Conclusion
God is the God of peace.  Let us give attention to him and his work above our own, trusting him to resolve our controversies by listening to his Word alone in conducting them.
Albert D. Taglieri is a member of Reformed Presbyterian Church of San Antonio.
[1] John Webster, “Theology and the peace of the church” in The Domain of the Word, 150-170.  Further citations from this essay use parenthetical page numbers.
[2] WCF 1.10
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Written by R. Scott Clark |
Tuesday, January 11, 2022
If you have not listened to “The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill” you should. It helps us to understand the so-called New Calvinism or the Young, Restless, and Reformed movement. It also helps us to understand the intersection between a part of the PCA and Acts 29 and that might help us understand some of the debates occurring today within the PCA.

Regular readers of the Heidelblog and listeners of the Heidelcast will know that considerable time has been spent here analyzing and interacting with the podcast series produced by Christianity Today and hosted by Mike Cosper (see the resources below).
In that interaction most of the time and attention has been spent on the nature and effects of Mark Driscoll’s Narcissism and abuse and on highlighting the differences between Reformed theology, piety, and practice and that of the so-called “New Calvinism” or the Young, Restless, and Reformed movement as represented by Driscoll and Mars Hill.
The most recent episode of the Presbycast (“Deconstructing 2021 and Big Eva with D G Hart”), however, hits on a very important aspect of the Acts 29/Mars Hill/Driscoll story that I overlooked: the role of the PCA, specifically the Church Planting Assessment Center (CPAC) in Atlanta, and Spanish River PCA in the formation of Acts 29 and Mars Hill.
In that regard it is interesting to note that this is the first thing one sees on the CPAC page:
Choosing and Retaining the right pastor is the key variable in planting a new mission.—Lyle Schaller
Was the Apostle Paul “the right pastor”? After all, the Corinthians were not much impressed with him. They were interested in “wisdom,” and “power,” and eloquence but Paul came to them with “foolishness,” “weakness,” and stumbling: “I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God” (1 Cor 2:3–5; ESV). They were much more taken with the self-proclaimed “Super Apostles” than they were with an actual apostle and they continued to be unimpressed with simple gospel ministry for, as far as church history knows, the rest of their history.
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