5 May 2015

3-minute reads in Acts: Baptism

Baptism is referred to 23 times in the book of Acts.  The references seem to fall into three reasonably clear categories.The first group of references is to the historical ministry of John the Baptist, which preceded, and initiated, the whole gospel event of Jesus' earthly ministry.  For example, Judas' replacement must have,
been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus was living among us, beginning from John's baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us. (1:21-22)
Other references to the historical ministry of John include 10:37, 13:24, 18:25 and 19:3-4.
A second category of references is made up of two verses that show the decisive contrast between the baptism with water that John did and the baptism with the Holy Spirit that Christ does.  So in 1:5, for example, Jesus tells the apostles:
John baptised with water, but in a few days you will be baptised with the Holy Spirit.
This is completely consistent with what John himself had also taught (Luke 3:16), and Peter recalls Jesus' words later on in Acts, after the Holy Spirit comes on Cornelius (11:16).
The events of Pentecost, as interpreted by Peter’s sermon, reveal that this baptism with the Holy Spirit is now the normative Christian experience of salvation.  For these are the last days (2:16-21), when Christ is risen and ascended at God’s right hand in heaven as Lord and Christ (2:22-36).  As such, he is the one who now pours out the gift of the Holy Spirit (2:33), which is now the defining gift of salvation promised to all who repent and believe (2:38-39).

The third category of references, however, is the largest of the three.  It refers to a baptism done in connection with someone’s conversion.  Given that four of these references are explicitly mentioned as being baptism with/in water (8:36-38; 10:47-48), and another connects baptism with the 'washing away' of sins (22:16), it seems reasonable to conclude that all of the verses in this category refer to baptism with water.
What is striking, though, is the way that so many of these references connect water baptism to a new believer's genuinely human response to the gospel, either in repenting from sin or accepting the gospel and believing in Christ.  For example:
Those who accepted his message were baptized, and about three thousand were added to their number that day. (2:41)
Or again,
Crispus, the synagogue leader, and his entire household believed in the Lord; and many of the Corinthians who heard Paul believed and were baptized. (18:8)
Other examples include 2:38, 8:12-13, 8:36-38, 16:14-15 and 22:16.
Significantly, however, there are also a few references in this category that connect water baptism with a new believer’s conversion, described explicitly in terms of God’s action in giving the gift of the Holy Spirit.  For example, the reason Peter can find no obstacle to baptising Cornelius and his household is because God has already given them his Holy Spirit (10:44-48).
Seeing both sides of Luke's presentation here is immensely important.  In my ministry context, people sometimes debate whether baptism chiefly expresses God’s action in salvation – his gracious gift of the Holy Spirit and the forgiveness of sins, or man’s action in salvation - responding to the gospel in genuine repentance and faith.  That may sound like a very academic question.  But it actually has significant implications for pastoral ministry (e.g., for the baptism of infants, to name an obvious one).
Luke, however, seems quite willing to speak in Acts of both realities.  We should not hesitate to speak of repentance and faith as a genuinely human response to the gospel.  And baptism with water is a public sign of this reality: the new life that begins by turning back to God in repentance and trusting in Christ.
Fundamentally, however, salvation is always the gracious gift from God.  Indeed, such is our dire state in sin that we cannot even respond in repentance and faith apart from God granting it to us (e.g., 11:18).  And so baptism with water points also to this much greater, and more essential reality, of baptism with the Holy Spirit, without which no one is saved.


27 Apr 2015

3-minute reads in Acts: The Church and Social Justice

‘Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give to you.  In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk’.  (Acts 3:6).
The most difficult thing about Peter’s words to the crippled man is that, actually, he did have silver and gold.  Perhaps not on him at this exact moment, but he could certainly get some if he needed to.  And it seems like this was exactly the sort of situation it was there for.  After all,
‘All the believers were together and had everything in common.  Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need.’  (Acts 2:44-45)
and,
‘There were no needy persons among them.  For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need.’  (Acts 4:34-35)
What is the church’s responsibility for social justice?  Is the church only to care for fellow believers?  Or is caring for the poor and oppressed in society what Christians are meant to do in this world?  It sounds like that’s the kind of thing happening in Acts 2 and 4.  So why does Peter tell the crippled man in Acts 3 that he has no silver and gold?  Is Peter just having a senior’s moment?  Or is something else going on?
As we read through Acts, we see that believers keep exercising a great care, expressed in material support, for fellow believers who are in need.  Thus, there were no needy persons among them (Acts 4:34), that is, among the believers.  The widows to whom food is being distributed are from among the growing number of disciples (Acts 6:1).  The severe famine leads the brothers in Antioch, each according to his ability, to provide help for the brothers living in Judea (Acts 11:29).
These things are concrete expressions of fellowship, koinonia, sharing together.  They embody Jesus’ teaching that the disciples must love each other as he has loved them, and that by their love for one another they would be known as disciples of Jesus (John 13:34-35).  They are free to share all things in common precisely because they share Christ in common.  They are obligated to each other as family because of him.
But what, then, of the church’s social justice responsibilities to unbelievers?  To those in sickness and poverty and oppressive social institutions?  Does Acts say anything about these issues? 
A great deal.  And what it consistently shows is that the gospel of Jesus Christ is the greatest and most powerful ‘tool’ of social justice and social change.  The crippled beggar receives no silver or gold but he is given the name of Jesus Christ.  And in receiving Christ he is healed, and thereby released from the disability that had left him to beg (Acts 3:7-10).  The slave girl with an evil spirit is released from her slavery (both spiritual and physical) also in the name of Jesus Christ (Acts 16:16-19).  The proclamation of the gospel in Ephesus brings such release to those who had been in the consuming grip of sorcery and magic that on one occasion, 50,000 days’ wages worth of magic scrolls were publicly destroyed (Acts 19:8-20)! 
Time after time, it is the powerful gospel message about Christ that brings liberation and release.
In general, we cope far better with ‘either/or’ answers than we do with ‘both/and’ answers.  However, on the question of whether the church’s social justice responsibilities are toward unbelievers or believers, the Bible’s answer is much closer to ‘both/and’ than ‘either/or’. 
But even ‘both/and’ doesn’t quite hit the mark.  Paul says it most clearly in Gal 6:10:
‘Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.’
Not ‘either/or’.  Not ‘both/and’.  But ‘to these ... and especially to these ...’.  This is one of the ways we live out the gospel.


3 Sept 2013

Identity and ethics

The latest television ad for the Australian Army Reserves features a bunch of reservists standing, facing the camera.  Each one is holding aside part of their civilian dress to reveal the otherwise unseen army uniform.
As a piece of communication, the ad is really clear.  These people are in the Army Reserve.  The job they have from 9-5 every weekday is simply what they do.  It’s an activity.  But the Army Reserve is who they are.  It’s their identity. 
Of course, this identity is largely invisible most of the time.  In the world of the ad, it’s only as they hold aside their civvies that you see who they really are.  But it’s the bigger reality that helps you understand why they live the way they live, and why they do the things they do.
It’s a lot like the way it’s meant to be for Christians.  Fish stickers on cars notwithstanding, there aren’t really any outward signs that someone is a Christian.  To borrow an image from Revelation, you can’t tell just by looking at someone whether they have the mark of the Lamb or the mark of the beast.  It’s a reality unseen by the naked eye. 
And so just like Army Reservists, there are Christian doctors, teachers, gardeners, graphic designers, librarians, lawyers, ship builders, scientists, puppeteers, policemen and photographers … to name just a few of the professions represented in our church.  But these things are just what they do.  They’re activities that occupy maybe even a great deal of their time.  But it’s not really who they are.  It’s not their identity.
For that, we need to look to the Lord Jesus Christ, and to the gospel of God’s grace.
Identity nearly always solves problems of ethics.  Understanding who you are tells you how to live.  As parents, my wife and I tell our eldest son that he’s going to be in high school soon, and at high school his teachers will expect very different things from him than what they expected of him in primary school.  This year, he is one of the Band Captains at school.  That places certain pressures on him to act in a particular way at band practices or at performances.  He’s expected to lead the way because of who he is … a Band Captain.  Identity nearly always solves problems of ethics.
What does this mean for us as Christians?  It’s not an exhaustive list.  But here are five ideas to start with …
We need to understand ourselves as objects of God’s undeserved, but wonderfully rich, mercy and grace.  That’s what will keep us humble in faith. 
We need to understand ourselves as servants of our Lord Jesus Christ, his disciples, his followers.  That’s what will lead us to obedience and to whole-hearted service of him. 
We need to understand ourselves as rebels against God who have been called to repentance.  That’s what will lead us to continue putting to death our old way of life.
We need to understand ourselves as those whose citizenship is in heaven and whose hope is in the unshakable kingdom to come.  That’s what will keep us from storing up earthly treasures that are destroyed by rust and moths.
We need to understand ourselves as those who were once not a people, but who are now the people of God; as people who were alienated not only from God but also from each other, but who are now reconciled both to God and to each other, as members together of God’s family.  That’s what will keep us being devoted to brotherly love for each other in the same way that Christ has loved us. 

18 Aug 2013

The (ir)relevance of academic qualifications

In the process of preparing for to elect a new Archbishop, as well as in the weeks immediately following, there’s been a fair bit of discussion about intellectual prowess, about levels of academic qualification, and about the benefits, or not, of high-level degrees such as doctorates.  At one level, perhaps, this is understandable.  After all, in terms of the two candidates for Archbishop, the level of academic qualification was a clear point of difference: one had done a PhD, the other hadn’t.  Claim and counter-claim were quickly made about the significance of this, and whether or not the candidates were intellectually matched.  Far more important, though, than either of these issues is the underlying assumptions of such discussions. 
What is a proper Christian attitude to academic study, to levels of intellectual prowess, and to the benefits or not of high level degrees such as doctorates?

The positive case

Let’s start with a positive view.  Does not the very nature of God, as well as the very richness and profundity of God’s Word, demand from us nothing less than the very best thinking we are capable of?  I am firmly convinced there are limits in our ability to understand God and his ways.  It’s just a product of God’s God-ness and our creaturely-ness.  Even in heaven, we shouldn’t expect the Creator’s knowledge of all things, for we will still be the creatures. 
And yet as those whom God has redeemed through his Son the Lord Jesus Christ, as those to whom God has revealed himself, as those to whom God has given his Word, should we not devote ourselves completely to growing in our knowledge of Him?  And to understanding his ways?  Should we not meditate on his Word day and night, like the blessed man of Ps 1?  And is this not part of what it means to love God not just with all our heart and all our soul and all our strength, but also with all our mind (Mk 12:30)?
More than that, doesn’t the New Testament’s teaching about the diversity of gifts within God’s people mean that God will have gifted some of us with sharp intellects and fine minds, and that these ought to be used gladly and willingly in service of the body, for the common good, to the glory of God?  Wouldn’t it be strange to come to any other conclusion?
Of course, none of these things, by themselves, mean that we should necessarily develop our mature Christian thinking in the academic sphere, or that we should pursue higher academic qualifications, such as doctorates.  It simply means that each of us, every single one, should strive with all our intellectual might to grow in our knowledge of God our heavenly Father, as we diligently devote ourselves to the study the Scriptures and seek to become more deeply and firmly established in the truth of the glorious gospel of God’s grace.  For some of us, this will certainly involve pursuing higher academic qualifications, and honing our intellectual skills in that sphere.  Even then, though, it should only be in order that we might use our God-given gifts in the service of the body, for the common good, to the glory of God.  Pride or self-promotion is simply never part of the equation.  For many of us, though, it will never mean pursuing higher academic qualifications.  But either way, God always demands our very greatest thinking, and so does his Word.

The negative case

But we sinners find just so many ways of erring in sin.  And even as redeemed sinners, who have come to regard things no longer from a worldly point of view, we are still capable of expressing so much residual worldliness.  At the heart of much of this stands our ongoing struggle with pride.  And this is where we can so quickly go wrong in our attitudes towards high level degrees and intellectual prowess and academics more generally.  Because in a city like Sydney where we have such extraordinary education levels, and in a sub-culture like Sydney Anglicanism where we place such a high value on the study of God’s Word, and in a social context where the Christian voice is increasingly shut out from the public square unless it can try to match the world on an intellectual level, this whole area is one of the quickest ways for us to puff ourselves up and make ourselves feel all very important.  And so we can begin to carry around our little titles.  And we can find ourselves deferring to person with the most letters around their name, simply because they have the most letters around their name.  And it just goes on and on.
I am fortunate at the moment to be doing some study in America.  One of the most clear cultural differences that stands out to me every time I visit the US, is that there is a joyful celebration of the achievement of others, and a glad and willing recognition of the qualifications of others.  It is so much more gracious than the tall-poppy-syndrome that dominates Australian social interractions!
At the same time, though, there seems to me, at least, to be among some of these American brothers a very unhealthy preoccupation with titles, and at times a quite worldly pursuit of higher academic qualifications, as if these will somehow indicate greater ministry prowess.  The course I’m enrolled in is a Doctorate of Ministry.  On both theological and academic grounds, it’s been considerably less rigorous than the Master of Arts in Theology I completed at Moore Theological College. 
I have family members, though, who don’t quite understand the whole Christian ministry scene, excitedly ask whether this means I can soon be called ‘Dr Nathan Walter’.  Personally, I will try to avoid such titles, partly because I think it is only appropriate to use them in very specific contexts, but more than that because in this particular case I don’t think the title is worth comparing to those who’ve done a full-time research and dissertation doctorate.  Others may disagree with that assessment, but that’s how I see things at the moment.
But when I’ve inquired of my fellow D.Min students, it’s amazed me that the majority of those I’ve asked have enthusiastically said that yes, they will allow themselves to be called ‘Dr …’.  This seems to me to be a pride issue, which comes from a desire to self-promote and to appear more qualified than others around us.  Or maybe to appear at least as qualified as them.
The same argument can be made with regard to some who want to pursue a PhD.  Clearly a PhD is appropriate for certain ministries, such as theological education.  But apart from that, is it really that useful?  I’ve often thought about whether I should enrol in a PhD program.  Others have repeatedly asked me the same question.  There’s a part of me that would dearly love to.  I enjoy research.  I enjoy thinking.  I enjoy writing and constructing a macro argument.  Up to this point, though, I have resisted it on the grounds that I think it would be self-indulgent.  After all, no one who is already involved in theological education has ever tapped me on the shoulder and said they thought I should pursue that path.  I don’t want to think of myself more highly than I should in this regard.  And so at the moment, I’m more than content in the parish ministries I am currently involved with.  And I don’t think I need a PhD to keep doing these ministries. 
But I see others involved in the same kinds of parish ministries who are considering a PhD, and my big concern is that the underlying motive in at least some of these situations is pride, and a desire to appear as someone significant, someone to be reckoned with, someone who commands attention simply because of those two letters out the front of their name.
Again, though, remember that we sinners find just so many ways of erring in sin.  And so before those who have higher academic qualifications, or who aspire to higher academic qualifications, jump up to defend themselves, it’s important to say that reverse pride can be just as vain.  It’s not hard to imagine some of us purposefully and proudly disdaining those with higher qualifications, or simply disdaining the higher qualifications themselves.  And we can boast that we don’t have such and such a degree.  Or that whilst that path lay open to us, we chose not follow it.  And we need to get on the public record the fact that it was a matter of choice not inability, or else others may think less of us.  Or others of us, perhaps, can carry a chip on our shoulder, because of the qualifications that we don’t have but others do.  And we feel like opportunities pass us by because we don’t have the same opportunities.  Again, it just goes on and on.  And it’s just as ugly.

Academic qualifications and suitability for ministry

Perhaps the most important issue for us to think through is whether or not higher academic qualifications indicate anything about a person’s suitability for ministry.  The answer is not very much, if anything at all.  To think otherwise is a fool’s game. 
When I was in my final year at Moore Theological College, a few of us floated a suggestion to the rest of our year group.  The suggestion was that when we graduated, rather than presenting graduands in the usual order of the degree they earned, beginning with the pass students, and then progressing from third class honours through to first class honours, why wouldn’t we approach the College to see if we could be presented in alphabetical order, with no verbal reference made to our honours level or anything like that.  The level of honours could still be noted in the program.  After all, if a graduation ceremony is not the appropriate place to note a person’s academic qualifications, what is?  But it really should be an incidental detail, not the focus. 
The amount of angst that this suggestion provoked among some of our year group was both surprising and appalling.  In defence of the idea, some had to speak of how even their secular degree had not anything of a person’s honours level, and yet here we were, about to go out into full time ministry, and we were squabbling about the fact that no one would find out what level of honours we got?  Far more sobering than that, though, is the fact that every year throughout the Diocese, there are some fall out of ministry through ungodliness.  Some of these are the same ones who got first class honours.
The point is that a person’s level of academic qualification is simply irrelevant to their suitability for ministry.  John Woodhouse said it very clearly while I was at College.  He once said: ‘There is a very big gap between the things that College can measure and the things that College can’t measure.  And the things that College can’t measure are nearly always far more important.’  We need to take this seriously.
Think about it for a moment.  If a person has a doctorate, what does that really tell you about their suitability for ministry?  That they are disciplined, hard-working, capable of both critical and independent thought, and highly articulate, at least in writing.  It doesn’t actually validate the theological value of their thinking, just that they can think at a very high level.  To put it another way, that they have a doctorate tells you nothing of their theology.  (Their dissertation may tell you a lot, but the simple fact that they have written one doesn’t tell you anything.)  Apart from the fact that they are generally disciplined and have a good work ethic, it tells you nothing of their personal godliness.  It tells you nothing of their suitability for personal pastoral ministry, or of their leadership of others.  It tells you nothing of their commitment to evangelism, or to serving others.  It simply tells you they’ve got a sharp mind, and they’re willing to use it.
But now consider some of the dangers associated with higher academic degrees.  Academia, almost by its very nature, delights in the ‘new’ – the new theory, the new model, the new understanding.  But the gospel, almost by its very nature, resists the ‘new’ and remains ‘old’.  True Christian faith is always, ‘tell me the old, old story, of Jesus and his love’.  Therefore Christian academics will very rarely come up with something genuinely new.  Their main goal will simply be to help us grow more deeply into the old thing.
More than that, academia, almost by its very nature, is wise by the world’s standards.  Yet in 1 Corinthians 1 the gospel of Christ crucified is utterly foolish by the world’s standards.  And God chooses fools to shame the wise, and the nothings to shame the somethings, and the things that aren’t to shame the things that are.  When the gospel is wise, and when God’s people come from the ranks of the wise and the somethings and the things that are, it’s too easy for pride to get in the way, so that we begin to boast in ourselves rather than in the Lord.  But God’s wants us to boast in the Lord not in ourselves, and so his deliberate and consistent strategy is to overlook the wise in favour of the foolish, and to overlook the somethings in favour of the nothings.  Those of us who are wise, then, in the eyes of the world, ought to be doubly cautious, so that the gospel of God’s grace leads us to humility.

Conclusion

As Christians we ought to sit pretty loose to the things of this world.  Academic qualifications are a thing of this world.  They serve a proper purpose.  But their limits are much greater, especially when we’re thinking about pastoral ministry.  In Acts 6, when the crisis over food distribution threatened the unity of the early church, the apostles decided to have six men appointed for the task.  The requirement: that they be ‘full of the Spirit and wisdom’.  Isn’t that remarkable?  To serve on tables among the people, of God you need to be full of the Spirit and wisdom.  You need to be of sound godly character.  How much more, then, are these the things you need to be a leader of God’s people?  But academic qualifications don’t give you this information.

More than that, with God’s help we must resist all pathways to human pride and vainglory.  There’s no degree in the world that will give us a higher title than the one God has already given us in the gospel.  For once we have become a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, once we have become a son of God through adoption by grace, the rest just trinkets and baubles.