Song of the Drunkards


JESUS FACED A CONSIDERABLE AMOUNT OF OPPOSITION FOR HIS HARD WORDS AND UNFLINCHING DEVOTION TO YAHWEH. NO SURPRISE THEN IF WE FIND OUR NAME FESTOONED IN BARROOM BALLADS (CF. PS 69:12).


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.

Talking to Ourselves

May 18, 2009 in Bible - OT - Psalms, Meditations

Psalm 42:9-11 (NKJV)
9 I will say to God my Rock, “Why have You forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?” 10 As with a breaking of my bones, My enemies reproach me, While they say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” 11 Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God.

We all have heard the school house adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” While the mantra may have helped us from time to time deal with some rather vicious words from our classmates, you no doubt have discovered over the course of your life that the adage just doesn’t hold up. As much as we might like to imagine that the attacks of others upon our personal character or our actions do not hurt, they in fact do. Indeed, they can cause us to question seriously our identity and can even lead to periods of depression and the temptation to despair.

It is this very temptation that the Psalmist records in our psalm today. He was being attacked by his enemies: told that his hopes and plans were merely wishful dreams; told that God did not really exist; told that he was simply deluded. And all this speech caused the Psalmist to begin doubting and despairing. “Perhaps they’re right. Perhaps it’s all just a dream.” And in the wake of doubt came depression.

In our modern day and age we face the same types of temptations that the Psalmist faced in his own. We face criticism at work and at home and we find ourselves weighed down under the reproaches of others. We too face periods of depression.

What’s a man or woman to do in such a circumstance? Our culture declares that we need to head to the local psychiatrist and seek our solution in a pill. While there are organic causes leading to certain types of depression, run of the mill depression is caused by our inability to deal with the trials we face in light of God’s Word. In the psalm before us today, the psalmist models what to do when we find our soul in the grips of depression and we are tempted to despair.

First, bring your complaint to God. The psalmist declares, “I will say to God my Rock, ‘Why have You forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?’” Don’t go first to the pastor, don’t go first to the counselor, go first to God and bring your troubles to Him. He hears. He listens. He acts. And those who wait for Him will mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not grow weary, they shall walk and not grow faint. While it may be necessary to seek additional outside help and encouragement, our first response must always be to go to our Redeemer and Savior.

Second, the psalmist not only trains us to bring our complaints first to God, he also trains us what to do with our thoughts of despair. Martin Lloyd-Jones in his wonderful book Spiritual Depression explains that when we are depressed we are greatly tempted to listen to ourselves. “Things are never going to get better. No one cares. God doesn’t care. Your enemies are right.” Instead, however, of listening to himself, Lloyd-Jones notes that the psalmist talks to himself. “Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God; For I shall yet praise Him, The help of my countenance and my God.” And so when you are downcast don’t listen to the Phantom of the Opera and the whispers of your own mind, talk instead – speak to yourself the promises of God and the precious treasures of our faith. Throw yourself upon Him and His mercy. His promises are more sure than our feelings. His character is more solid than the cloud of despair which seems so real at the moment.

But too often we do not model the psalmist. Rather than bringing our requests to God first and talking to ourselves; we listen to the imaginations of our own heart and fall into greater despair. And so let us kneel before our Savior and confess our sin, receiving the grace which He promises to us in Christ.

Tertullian on Marriage

May 12, 2009 in Church History, Marriage

As a fitting end to my sermon series on marriage, came across this quotation from Tertullian. It is from a letter he wrote to his own wife. Tertullian was an early church father who wrote in the late 2nd and early 3rd century.

“Where are we to find language adequate to express the happiness of that marriage which the church cements, the oblation confirms, the benediction signs and seals, the angels celebrate and the Father holds as approved? For all around the earth young people do not rightly and lawfully wed without their parents’ consent. What kind of yoke is that of two believers who share one hope, one desire, one discipline, one service? They enjoy kinship in spirit and in flesh. They are mutual servants with no discrepancy of interests. Truly they are ‘two in one flesh.’ Where the flesh is one, the spirit is one as well. Together they pray, together bow down, together perform their fasts, mutually teaching, mutually entreating, mutually upholding. In the church of God they hold an equal place. They stand equally at the banquet of God, equally in crises, equally facing persecutions, and equally in refreshments. Neither hides anything from the other. Neither neglects the other. Neither is troublesome to the other.”

From the Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture, New Testament: Mark, p. 135.