Fires and Fireplaces

February 28, 2014 in Book Reviews, Church History, Ecclesiology, Holy Spirit

“The structure of the institutional church is necessary, like a fireplace. The flame of true evangelical experience and conviction – a ‘felt Christ’ as the Puritans would say – is the only reason for a fireplace to begin with.

Over the years, as the mansions got bigger and the artisanship that went into the carving of mantelpieces got more cunning, the more time could go by without a fire ever actually being built in that thin. I mean, who wants to fill up such a beautiful hole in the wall with a bunch of ashes?

After a time, others – by which I mean radical charismatics and crazed anabaptists – start setting their fires on the coffee table or the love seat. But at least they knew the room was cold and something should be done about it.

The fire of evangelical conviction, when scripturally governed, cries out for a fireplace to burn in. A well-designed fireplace, put together by biblically minded craftsmen, cries out for a fire to go in it. A fireplace without a fire is cold and dead. A fire without a fireplace is fierce and destructive. Shouldn’t we be able to work something out?”

Douglas Wilson, Against the Church, p. 77.

Christ, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper

February 28, 2014 in Baptism, Book Reviews, Covenantal Living, Ecclesiology, Federal Vision, Lord's Day, Sacraments

A couple months ago I read Leonard Vander Zee’s book Christ, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper. This was another helpful book explaining the biblical role of the sacraments for the life of the Church. Vander Zee does an excellent job identifying the true dividing line in sacramental theology: the true dividing line in different views of the sacraments is between those who view the sacraments fundamentally as a human declaration to God and those who view them primarily as God’s declaration to us. The Reformed position is the latter. In the sacraments it is primarily God who is speaking – speaking to us and about us, identifying who we are, the promises he has made to us, and the hopes we have for the future. I would recommend it. You can find it here.

Against the Church

February 27, 2014 in Baptism, Book Reviews, Federal Vision, John Calvin, Reformation, Regeneration, Sacraments

I just finished reading Against the Church by my friend Doug Wilson. I found Doug’s book extremely helpful and think that all those concerned about the Federal Vision controversy will profit from it. Doug emphasizes repeatedly here the absolute necessity of individual regeneration, rebirth, effectual calling for those inside, outside, and beside the covenant. You must be born again. You must move from death to life, from slaves of sin to slaves of righteousness, from tares to wheat, from darkness to light not only objectively but personally. All these things Doug has said repeatedly before but some have insisted that he must not really be saying that because why would sacraments and liturgy still be important? Thom Notaro did us a great service years ago clarifying in his book Van Til and the Use of Evidence that Van Til’s critiques of the wrong use of evidence didn’t mean that Van Til was completely opposed to the use of evidences in the right way. Hopefully Doug’s book Against the Church will serve a similar function to dispel the myth that an emphasis on the objectivity of the covenant, an emphasis on the significance of baptism and the Supper, does not entail a repudiation of the necessity for personal rebirth, faith, and righteousness. Rather the two go are to go together. Pick it up here.

The Haunted Bookshop

November 10, 2012 in Book Reviews

For our anniversary last May Paige and I went to Leavenworth, Washington, one of our favorite spots. While snooping in one of the stores found a pair of books by Christopher Morley, Parnassus on Wheels and The Haunted Bookshop. The books celebrate a love of literature and the truly noble occupation of being the proprietor of a bookshop. Roger Mifflin’s love of books provides the backdrop for a series of adventures – the first ending in Roger’s marriage to Helen and the second ending in another likely union.

Morley’s frequent allusions to works of literature he considers essential reading and easy style of writing made reading through the books an easy task. Parnassus on Wheels in particular was a cleverly orchestrated love story bringing the characters together around a love of books – a love that one of the them didn’t share at the start.

Written on the heels of World War I, the war is ever in the background in the second volume and provides a considerable amount of the story line. The indifference to religion is definitely symptomatic of the times and the humanistic assessment of why we shouldn’t go to war any longer empty. Nevertheless the plot unfolds with ease and kept me questioning what was next and, what’s more important, wanting to know. The love of books is palpable and the wonder of romance artfully displayed. A worthwhile diversion.

Review: Letters to a Young Calvinist

November 8, 2012 in Book Reviews, Church History, Creeds, John Calvin, Singing Psalms, Worship

I recently read through James K.A. Smith’s Letters to a Young Calvinist. Having also just read his work Desiring the Kingdom I thought I’d pick this up. There were a number of things I liked; others I didn’t. Overall helpful but not sure that it’s what I’d give to a young Calvinist. Maybe. Pretty decisive, eh?
So for the good. His warnings against spiritual pride are very apropos. I remember years ago reading a great edition of Credenda/Agenda entitled, “Tender Mercies: How to Avoid Sinning Like a Calvinist.” That was a great collection of articles – very helpful as a young Calvinist. In fact, it’s probably what I would recommend handing out rather than this book. The magazine hit this issue of pride repeatedly and well – as does Smith. I did feel, however, that in his slightly condescending tone toward Calvinistic Baptists that he was being a tad inconsistent. I have my share of criticisms for Calvinistic Baptists as well – but the tone struck me as wrong at points.
Second, his insistence that the center of Calvinism is an insistence on grace was delightful. Loved it. Grace all the way down – everything is a gift. So what should our fundamental attitude be toward the world and one another? Well what do we do when others give us a gift? We say thanks! Overflowing with thankfulness!
Third, I loved his analogy comparing the creeds to grammar lessons. Very helpful! He says:
Or, finally, you might think of the creeds and confessions as articulating the grammar of the language of faith. They’re not meant to be a substitute for speaking the language! Rather, they provide a way for one to learn a ‘second’ language. If I’m studying Greek grammar, it’s not so that I can know Greek grammar; it’s so that I can read Greek, and perhaps the Greek New Testament in particular. So also, I learn the ‘grammar’ of faith articulated in the creeds and confessions, not as ends in themselves, but as an invitation to read Scripture well, and as guides to faithful practice.
Fourth, his historical consciousness and respect for the corporate nature of the church, the voice of the church over time was very helpful.
Fifth, his criticism of the incipient Gnosticism in much of Calvinistic Baptist and even Reformed writings is helpful. The earth is the Lord’s and all it contains – so let us receive it and give thanks. I’ll never think of Shedd in the same way again.
The bad? First, his definition of semper reformanda as a means of abandoning teachings of the NT was troubling – in particular his egalitarian tendencies in his approach to the relationship between men and women, especially the role of women in ministry. His grammatical ambivalence for using the traditional English “he” and “him” for a generic person reveal his staunchly egalitarian stance. All this while professing reverence for the text. No wonder the CRC is heading the wrong direction.
Second, the centrality of the psalms for corporate worship is not given the attention which I think it deserves. I know that Smith considers the psalms important for worship. His Desiring the Kingdom gives a tangible taste of liturgical worship incorporating the psalms. But I fear it is “psalms-lite” and what we need is to be psalm saturated. This is important for many of our younger Calvinists because they’re embracing a form of worship that, in principle, undermines many of the doctrinal convictions of Calvinism. And the truth is lex orandi, lex credenda – the law of prayer is the law of faith. We become what we worship and if the God we worship is not approached with reverence and awe, as a consuming fire, then our theology is going to begin heading down the wrong trajectory. The psalms are the key – as they have been historically in the Reformed churches.
Overall a helpful, easy to read book. Reviewing it helps me see there was more I appreciated than not. It was a useful complement to his book Desiring the Kingdom which I also recommend.

Leadership & Self-Deception

June 16, 2010 in Book Reviews

Just finished reading Leadership and Self-Deception: Getting out of the box by The Arbinger Institute. Its analysis of self-deception and the way in which interpersonal conflicts are fostered and intensified was excellent. Very helpful analysis of anger, bitterness, resentment, and the way in which we use others’ faults to excuse our own.

The major philosophical idolatry of the book is its focus entirely upon self-betrayal rather than the betrayal of God. This idolatry is also evident in its assumption of the basic “goodness” of man – assuming that we basically want to treat others well and simply deceive ourselves into doing different. Further, the emphasis upon our instinct or feelings as a reliable source of action is naive. These instincts are formed by the culture in which we live which itself is saturated with religous assumptions. Given different cultures, different things will be instinctual – strike us as truly “humane.” Hence, it is imperative that we have some ethical standard which guides and directs our instincts else we may do something inhumane in the name of humanity. “The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel” (Prov 12:10b).

Despite these underlying flaws, the book’s usefulness far outweighs its faults. It is engaging, informative, and easy to understand.

The Taste of Sabbath

January 18, 2010 in Book Reviews, Lord's Day
Well my first book has been published – a curious admixture of excitement and dread have attended the event. For those interested, here’s the cover:

The book can be ordered from Canon Press here. Doug Wilson kindly recommended the book here.

On the Holy Spirit

May 27, 2009 in Book Reviews, Holy Spirit, Trinity

Basil the Great’s (c. 330-379) treatise On the Holy Spirit is an excellent defense of the full deity of the Holy Spirit written at a time when the issue was being hotly debated within the Church. It demonstrates Basil’s devotion to Scripture, ability to reason, and passion for truth. Throughout he upholds the absolute necessity of believing in the divinity of the Spirit, and hence in the Trinity, in order to secure one’s salvation. Apart from a belief in the Triune God, man is lost. “I testify to every man who is confessing Christ and denying God, that Christ will profit him nothing; to every man that calls upon God but rejects the Son, that his faith is vain; to every man that sets aside the Spirit, that his faith in the Father and the Son will be useless, for he cannot even hold it without the presence of the Spirit. For he who does not believe the Spirit does not believe in the Son, and he who has not believed in the Son does not believe in the Father” (17f.).

Basil wrote this treatise to one Amphilochius, a brother who was desirous of understanding more of the Spirit. In a series of commendations to Amphilochius for his pursuit of truth, Basil makes some wonderful comments about this pursuit. He notes:

“And this in you yet further moves my admiration, that you do not, according to the manners of the most part of the men of our time, propose your questions by way of mere test, but with the honest desire to arrive at the actual truth” (2).

“The beginning of teaching is speech, and syllables and words are parts of speech. It follows then that to investigate syllables is not to shoot wide of the mark, nor, because the questions raised are what might seem to some insignificant, are they on that account to be held unworthy of heed. Truth is always a quarry hard to hunt, and therefore we must look everywhere for its tracks. The acquisition of true religion is just like that of crafts; both grow bit by bit; apprentices must despise nothing. If a man despise the first elements as small and insignificant, he will never reach the perfection of wisdom” (2).

Later he comments:

“But we will not slacken in our defence of the truth. We will not cowardly abandon the cause. The Lord has delivered to us as necessary and saving doctrine that the Holy Spirit is to be ranked with the Father. Our opponents think differently, and see fit to divide and rend asunder, and relegate Him to the nature of a ministering spirit. Is it not then indisputable that they make their own blasphemy more authoritative than the law prescribed by the Lord?” (17)

Basil’s note in the second quote is somewhat of a defense for the first section of his work wherein he grapples with his opponents on the meaning of the prepositional phrases “of whom,” “through whom,” and “by whom.” It seems that the Arians and Pneumatachoi made use of these phrases to deny the deity of the Holy Spirit. They claimed that all things were made “by” the Father (Creator), “through” the Son (subordinate agent), “of” or “in” the Spirit (material out of which all made or place in which all occurs). The Spirit hence was impersonal and non-divine. The exact purpose of these distinctions somewhat escapes me. Basil himself seems to bounce back and forth in his representation of his opponents. Elsewhere he claims the opponents use “of whom” to indicate the Creator.

Basil attacks this whole bit of sophistry by a series of arguments. First, he demonstrates that the various prepositions are not so carefully distinguished in Scripture. The prepositions are used interchangeably and, hence, if his opponents desire to argue against the deity of the Spirit using these distinctions they must also argue against the deity of the Son and even the Father (reductio ad absurdum). Second, he clearly argues that the prepositions “of” and “in” do not necessarily indicate material or time–in fact they are used in a variety of ways. “In a word, the diligent reader will perceive that ‘of whom’ is used in diverse manners” (6).

A couple notes on Basil’s work. First, he makes extensive use of reductio ad absurdum. Routinely he takes his opponents’ position and takes it to its logical outcome. The following is an example:

“For if they will not grant that the three expressions ‘of him’ and ‘through him’ and ‘to him’ are spoken of the Lord, they cannot but be applied to God the Father. Then without question their rule will fall through, for we find not only ‘of whom,’ but also ‘through whom’ applied to the Father. And if this latter phrase indicates nothing derogatory, why in the world should it be confined, as though conveying the sense of inferiority, to the Son? If it always and everywhere implies ministry, let them tell us to what superior the God of glory and Father of the Christ is subordinate” (6).

In another passage he comments regarding the deity of Christ, reducing Arianism to absurdity by demonstrating that if Christ has not eternally possessed all knowledge then he will be eternally progressing in knowledge. In this he seems to presage Process Theology and Mormonism, which took the creation of the Son to its logical conclusion.

“Hence, if you have sense to abide by what logically follows, you will find the Son being eternally taught, nor yet ever able to reach the end of perfection, insasmuch as the wisdom of the Father is infinite, and the end of the infinite is beyond apprehension. It results that whoever refuses to grant that the Son has all things from the beginning will never grant that He will reach perfection” (14).

Other examples of this type of argumentation abound (e.g., pp. 5, 20, 30).

Second, Basil relies heavily on the declaration of the Nicene Council regarding the deity of Christ. He uses the same lines of reasoning to confirm the deity of the Spirit that had been used to defend the deity of the Son. If we accept the deity of the Son, we must accept the deity of the Spirit.

After concluding his discussion of the prepositional phrases used by his opponents, Basil proceeds to set forth some of the positive reasons to adopt the deity of the Spirit. The two main foci of his defense are (1) the baptismal formula and (2) the doxology. In the baptismal formula, Father, Son and Holy Spirit are conjoined in such a way that the separate them is impossible (pp. 16ff). There follows an extended discussion of the Spirit’s relation to baptism and some discussion of baptism itself.

So, first he argues for the deity of the Spirit from the baptismal formula. Some of his comments on baptism are worth noting. He ties our “regeneration” with baptism when he comments, “And in what way are we saved? Plainly because we were regenerate through the grace given in our baptism. How else could we be?” (17) Elsewhere he exhorts the baptized, “and them I charge to preserve the faith secure until the day of Christ, and to keep the Spirit undivided from the Father and the Son, preserving, both in the confession of faith and in the doxology, the doctrine taught them at their baptism” (17).

According to Basil those who deny the deity of the Spirit are to be regarded as covenant-breakers. They have violated their baptismal covenant which was inaugurated in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. “And to him who denies the Spirit, what title do you wish me to apply? Must it not be [a transgressor], inasmuch as he has broken his covenant with God? . . . I testify to every man who is confessing Christ and denying God, that Christ will profit him nothing; to every man that calls upon God but rejects the Son, that his faith is vain; to every man that sets aside the Spirit, that his faith in the Father and the Son will be useless, for he cannot even hold it without the presence of the Spirit. For he who does not believe the Spirit does not believe in the Son, and he who has not believed in the Son does not believe in the Father” (17f.).

Basil links our Trinitarian faith with our Trinitarian baptism:

“If then in baptism the separation of the Spirit from the Father and the Son is perilous to the baptizer, and of no advantage to the baptized, how can the rending asunder of the Spirit from Father and from Son be safe for us? Faith and baptism are two kindred and inseparable ways of salvation: faith is perfected through baptism, baptism is established through faith, and both are completed by the same names. For as we believe in the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, so are we also baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost: first comes the confession, introducing us to salvation, and baptism follows, setting the seal upon our assent” (18).

While insisting that baptism and salvation are closely tied together, he nevertheless insists that baptism is not absolutely necessary. The work of the Spirit can be distinguished from baptism; yet he argues that the two should never be separated. Hence, those who die as martyrs prior to their actual baptism have been “baptized” by their own blood. The Spirit has obviously worked in their hearts and this work can be distinguished from baptism.

Having discussed the relationship of the Spirit and baptism, Basil goes on to treat more particularly of our faith in the Spirit. He discusses a number of biblical texts and their bearing on our doctrine of the Spirit. He begins by arguing that because (1) the Spirit gives gifts to the Church and (2) “sins against the Holy Spirit and against God are the same,” we should confess the Spirit to be divine. He proceeds to distinguish the Spirit from the created order and from the angelic world. He discusses the role of each person of the Trinity in creation:

“The Father, who creates by His sole will, could not stand in any need of the Son, but nevertheless He wills through the Son; nor could the Son, who works according to the likeness of the Father, need cooperation, but the Son too wills to make perfect through the Spirit. . . . You are therefore to perceive three, the Lord who gives the order, the Word who creates, and the Spirit who confirms” (24).

He argues that the Spirit is the one who gives life and empowerment to all things, including angels, Christ and the Church. “All the glorious and unspeakable harmony of the highest heavens both in the service of God, and in the mutual concord of the celestial powers, can therefore only be preserved by the direction of the Spirit” (24). “Whether you wish to examine ancient evidence . . . or on the other hand things done in the dispensation of the coming of our Lord in the flesh;–all is through the Spirit. . . . every operation was wrought with the cooperation of the Spirit” (25). “For there is not even one single gift which reaches creation without the Holy Ghost; . . .” (35).

He concludes by returning to a discussion of various prepositional phrases and their bearing on the matter. He argues that “with” is the best preposition to use since it conveys both the sense of the Spirit’s functional subordination to the Father and yet his essential equality with the Father and the Son. “For to say that the Son is with the Father is to exhibit at once the distinction of the hypostases, and the inseparability of the fellowship. . . . Thus while the word ‘with’ upsets the error of Sabellius as no other word can, it routs also sinners who err in the very opposite direction; those, I mean, who separate the Son from the Father and the Sprit from the Son, by intervals of time” (37). “The preposition ‘in’ states the truth [of the Spirit’s divinity] rather relatively to ourselves; while ‘with’ proclaims the fellowship of the Spirit with God wherefore we use both words, by the one expressing the dignity of the Spirit; by the other announcing the grace that is with us” (43).

Proofs of Deity:
i. Distributes gifts to the Church (1 Cor 12, 14)
ii. Sins against the Holy Spirit and against God equated (Acts 5)
iii. Empowers our confession of Jesus Christ (1 Cor 12:3)
iv. Stands in closest possible relation to God, as soul of man to man (1 Cor 2:10f)*
*He calls this the greatest proof
v. Spoken of in conjunction with Father and the Son in baptism & doxology (Mt 28)
vi. Called the Spirit “of God” and “of Christ” (2 Cor 1:12; Ro 8:9)
vii. Called the Lord in numerous passages (1 Thes 3:12f; 2 Cor 3:17; 1 Cor 3:16; 2 Tim 3:16)
viii. He has attributes that are only appropriately ascribed to God (See pp. 34f)

“Moreover the surpassing excellence of the nature of the Spirit is to be learned not only from His having the same title as the Father and the Son, and sharing in their operations, but also from His being, like the Father and the Son, unapproachable in thought” (34).

Trinitarian confession:

“There is one God and Father, one Only-begotten, and one Holy Ghost. We proclaim each of the hypostases singly; and, when count we must, we do not let an ignorant arithmetic carry us away to the idea of a plurality of Gods” (28).

Spirit to be glorified together with the Father and the Son (Quotes Ecclesiasticus):

“Exalt Him as much as you can, for even yet will He far exceed; and when you exalt Him put forth all your strength, and be not weary, for you can never go far enough” (44, Ecclus 43:30)

Basil discusses at some length the works of the Spirit (pp. 30, 31). He then offers a helpful definition of Arianism.

“The Son, according to them, is not together with the Father, but after the Father. . . . They further assert that the Spirit is not to be ranked along with the Father and the Son, but under the Son and the Father; not coordinated, but subordinated; not connumerated, but subnumerated. . . . What is our answer to this? We say, Blessed are the ears that have not heard you and the hearts that have been kept from the wounds of your words” (8).

Basil places considerable weight upon oral tradition. He is critical of his opponents for demanding “written proof, and reject[ing] as worthless the unwritten tradition of the Fathers” (16). According to the notes in the text, Gregory Nazianzus is supposed to have said, “They find a cloak for their impiety in their affection for Scripture.” The notes remark that “the Arians at Nicaea objected to the homoousion as unscriptural.” (17) This section at least seems to illustrate the danger of “Scriptural” reasoning when divested of some sense of tradition–a sound board on which to test one’s interpretation. Whether to accord “unwritten” tradition the place Basil does seems untenable at this time given the corruption which has filled the church. However, his words surely could speak to us about the importance of valuing tradition.

He remarks later: “For were we to attempt to reject such customs as have no written authority, on the ground that the importance they possess is small, we should unintentionally injure the Gospel in its very vitals. . . . [Do not many things] come from that unpublished and secret teaching which our fathers guarded in a silence out of the reach of curious meddling and inquisitive investigation? . . . In the same manner the Apostles and Fathers who laid down laws for the Church from the beginning thus guarded the awful dignity of the mysteries in secrecy and silence, for what is bruited abroad at random among the common folk is no mystery at all. This is the reason for our tradition of unwritten precepts and practices, that the knowledge of our dogmas may not become neglected and contemned by the multitude through familiarity” (41,42). See further comments on pp. 44,45,

Basil’s comments on the Mosaic law are worth considering. He clearly understands types (pp. 19f).

“For He spares our weakness, and in the depth of the riches of His wisdom, and the inscrutable judgments of His intelligence, used this gentle treatment, fitted for our needs, gradually accustoming us to see first the shadows of objects, and to look at the sun in water, to save us from dashing against the spectacle of pure unadulterated light, and being blinded. Just so the Law, having a shadow of things to come, and the typical teaching of the prophets, which is a dark utterance of the truth, have been devised as means to train the eyes of the heart, in that hence the transition to the wisdom hidden in mystery will be made easy. Enough so far concerning types; . . .” (21).

His realist, rather than covenantal, view of baptism affects his understanding of the state of OT saints. Because dying to sin and rising with Christ occurs in baptism OT could not have participated in these blessings and hence did not participate in many of the blessings we now enjoy. “Those men did not die with Christ; wherefore they were not raised with Him. They did not ‘bear the image of the heavenly;’ they did not ‘bear about in the body the dying of Jesus;’ they did not ‘put off the old man;’ . . .” (20).

Children in the Covenant

May 18, 2009 in Book Reviews, Covenantal Living

In preparation for my sermon on Mark 10:13-16 and Jesus’ blessing of the children, I read Lewis Bevens Schenck’s book The Presbyterian Doctrine of Children in the Covenant: An Historical Study of the Significance of Infant Baptism in the Presbyterian Church. P&R Publishing did us the inestimable service of reprinting this in 2003 and Frank James, one of my instructors at RTS Orlando during my tenure there, wrote the Introduction.

Throughout the book the contention of Schenck is that the questions of the lawful mode and recipients of baptism have sidetracked us from considering a much more important matter. Namely, what does baptism mean, what is its significance? Particularly when infants are baptized, what is the significance of that baptism?

Schenck’s book, as the title suggests, surveys Reformed opinion on this very question. Its purpose is not to build a biblical case for infant baptism but to consider theological reflection on its significance within the Presbyterian tradition. He begins with Calvin and ends with the confusion that predominated in Presbyterian circles following the rise of revivalism in America. His survey is trenchant and thought provoking, showing the remarkable uniformity among the early Reformed thinkers on the matter as well as the large scale abandonment of that teaching in 19th century Presbyterianism.

Schenck argues forcefully in the first chapter that the predominant opinion among Reformed thinkers, beginning with Calvin and proceeding through the Westminster Assembly, was that infant baptism was applied to children as members of the Kingdom of God. The children of believers were to be reckoned presumptively regenerate based on the promise of God to be God not only to believers but also to their children. Consequently, the children of believers are to be reckoned as believers themselves; not out of any infallible knowledge of their actual status, but based on the promise of God in the Scriptures. As Calvin remarks, “It follows, that the children of believers are not baptized, that they may thereby then become the children of God, as if they had been before aliens to the Church; but, on the contrary, they are received into the Church by this solemn sign, since they already belonged to the body of Christ by virtue of the promise.” (Institutes IV.25) The children of believers belong to God and therefore are to be brought into the visible church via baptism.

As I remarked in my sermon this past Lord’s Day, Calvin’s contention correlates precisely with the words of our Lord Jesus as He welcomes the children into His presence and blesses them. When the parents (most likely) come bringing these little children (all of whom or at least some of whom were nursing infants – Lk 18:15) and the disciples rebuke them for bothering our Lord, Jesus is indignant, angered at the behavior of the disciples. He delivers a dual imperative to the disciples, insisting that he desires little children not simply tolerated or permitted to come to Him but ushered unto Him. He then explain why – “for of such is the Kingdom of God.” Jesus does not commend the action of those bringing the children – “Don’t forbid them because every righteous parent should be bringing his children to me” – rather, He comments on the status of the children themselves. Jesus insists that these children should be brought to Him because they are part of the Kingdom; not that they one day shall be part of it but that they already are. These parents were right to bring their children to Jesus not in the hope that their children would one day belong to Him but because they already belonged to Him.

Given that our children belong to God, what is the purpose of Christian nurture, Christian education, training, discipline, etc? The purpose is to train God’s children to be ever more faithful disciples of Christ, to love and cherish Him all the more, to serve Him faithfully and truly. God freely, graciously has brought these children into His Kingdom by giving them to believing parents. So when we speak to our children, how ought we to speak to them? Ought we to speak to them as though they are over there, unconverted, unbelieving, separate from Christ, non-Christians? No! This is precisely what our Lord forbids. We are to speak to them as believers, exhort them as believers, treat them as members of Christ, as inheritors of the Kingdom of God. Why? Because God in His grace and mercy has promised to be their God and has testified to it in His Word. They are not over there; they are in here.

Schenck substantiates that this approach to children was the predominant position of the Presbyterian tradition leading up to the Great Awakening in America. As a result of the Great Awakening, however, this conviction was undermined. In the place of Christian nurture and education as the normal pattern of discipleship came the camp meeting, the conversion experience. The Great Awakening insisted that the only legitimate sign of an interest in Christ was a measurable conversion experience. Conversion included first a period of conviction and then an abiding “sense” of relief in Christ. Schenck’s explains:

It was unfortunate that the Great Awakening made an emotional experience, involving terror, misery, and depression, the only approach to God. A conscious conversion from enmity to friendship with God was looked upon as the only way of entrance into the kingdom. Sometimes it came suddenly, sometimes it was a prolonged and painful process. But it was believed to be a clearly discernible emotional upheaval, necessarily ‘distinct to the consciousness of its subject and apparent to those around.’ Preceding the experience of God’s love and peace, it was believed necessary to have an awful sense of one’s lost and terrifying position. Since these were not the experiences of infancy and early childhood, it was taken for granted children must, or in all ordinary cases would, grow up unconverted.

Schenck’s critique of the Great Awakening is subtle and powerful, exposing its deleterious effects upon the training of Christian children.

He continues this critique in the next chapter in which he highlights how the Great Awakening made inroads into Southern Presbyterianism and undermined the consensus within Presbyterianism over the significance of infant baptism. Thornwell and Dabney, two of the greatest Southern Presbyterian theologians, insisted that children are not baptized because they belong to Christ but only because they reside in a privileged position of instruction. Baptism in the case of an infant, therefore, did not signify his regeneration, which was assumed not to have occurred yet, but only the spiritual blessings that one day he would receive, provided that he believed. “Children in the covenant then were classified with the offenders and ‘enemies of God.’ They were to be regarded as presumptively unregenerated.” (96)

The consequence of this position was the recommendation by certain men to revise the Book of Discipline in order to remove baptized children from the possibility of church discipline unless they had made a personal profession of faith. Schenck’s analysis of this suggestion is compelling. He utilizes the voice of the Princeton Theologians to critique the novelty of these positions. Taking up such central concepts of original sin, sanctification, the covenant, and the church, Schenck demonstrates the departure of many Presbyterians from the historic position of the church and the Scriptures.

His comments on the conditionality of God’s covenant with His people are excellent. “Man earned nothing by meeting the demands of the covenant. All the requirements of the covenant were covered by the promises of God; that is, God promised to give man all that he required of Him. The covenant of grace, as its name infers, was a covenant of the unmerited love and favor of God.” (121) Consequently, if “in Israel many entered into an outward relation with Israel, who did not enjoy the inward covenantal relation, this only showed that the true conditions of the covenant relationship had not been met.” (123) In other words, external membership among the people of God in the Old Testament was not real membership and could by no means classified as faithfulness. Likewise today.

He closes his book by contrasting in a number of significant ways the Reformed principle of training children with the revivalistic principle. “The principle of the Reformed faith, that the child brought up under Christian influence should never know a time when love to God was not an active principle in its life, was displaced by an assumption that even the offspring of the godly were born enemies of God and must await the crisis of conversion.” (153) His discussion of the centrality of the Christian nurture and training of covenant children is trenchant as is His insistence that apart from the power of the Holy Spirit all these efforts are for naught. In this his critique of Horace Bushnell’s notions of covenantal nurture is edifying.

The largest inadequacy of Schenck’s book is his treatment of Calvin’s rejection of paedo-communion. He takes up the issue in only one paragraph and fails to interact sufficiently with Calvin’s inconsistency. As Paul Jewett substantiates in his critique of infant baptism, Infant Baptism and the Covenant of Grace, paedobaptism and paedocommunion go together. If infants truly are presumptively regenerate, members of the household of God, members of the Kingdom of God, then why would we withhold from them the sacrament of the Supper? Why would God refuse to feed those whom He numbers among His people? Schenck does not address this matter at all – though given the scope of his study that is excusable.

On the whole, Schenck’s book is a valuable resource for understanding the deleterious effects of the Great Awakening on the nurture of covenantal children. In many ways, Schenck’s book is a helpful corrective to Iain Murray’s otherwise excellent book Revival and Revivalism. It seems to me that Murray is himself an advocate of the “conversion pattern” as the normal method of God’s dealings with his people. Schenck demonstrates it inadequacy and encourages us to love and train our children in faith and hope.