The Forgiving Grace and Transforming Grace of God

We tend to read Romans as a theological explanation of our salvation, a clarification about how we are justified or made righteous.  This is a part—a large part—of what Romans teaches.  If you check in your English Standard Version translation of Romans, for instance, you will find that Romans mentions ‘justification’ three times, ‘justify’ one time, and ‘just’ and ‘justifier’ in one verse (3.26).  Yet there is considerably more to this.  The same Greek word for ‘justification’ (and its other forms) more often gets translated as ‘righteous/righteousness,’ which appears forty times in Romans (ESV).  Thus, Romans does, indeed, speak to the issue of how the unrighteous are made righteous.  Yet this focus on our condition obscures other aspects of the theology of Romans.  (One of these, not discussed here, is about God’s plan of salvation for Jews and Gentiles—a corporate reading of the theological argument in Romans.)  If Romans is about our salvation, it is also about God’s grace.  This—God’s grace—is in focus here. 

The term ‘grace’ appears twenty-one times in Romans in the English Standard Version.  Of these, Paul greets the Roman Christians with ‘grace’ (1.7) and bids them farewell with ‘grace’ (16.20): the Christian life is a testimony of God’s grace through and through. 

When I teach Romans, I like to talk about God’s ‘forgiving grace’ and His ‘transforming grace.’  Many Evangelicals have a firm grasp of God’s forgiving grace.  While ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,’ we have also been ‘justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus’ (Rom. 3.23-24).  We stand in God’s grace (Rom. 5.2), not in our own righteousness.  The remnant is chosen by grace, not works (Rom. 11.5-6).  This is ‘forgiving grace,’ if we can use that language.  It functions as an ‘alien righteousness’—something we have received despite what we deserve.  It is Christ’s righteousness applied to us.  It is a static notion, a certification, a judgement that we are to be considered righteous because of Christ’s righteousness and not our own.  Such a focus on sin, repentance, and God's gracious forgiveness is largely the message brought by John the Baptist in anticipation of the coming of the Kingdom of Heaven, of God's reign.

Yet there is also a more dynamic aspect to God’s grace.  This is what John the Baptist anticipated in the ministry of Jesus: 'He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire' (Mt. 3.11).  This is transforming grace, God's dynamic, empowering Holy Spirit at work in our lives.  

In Romans, Paul says several things about God's grace.  Grace is the basis for Christian ministry.  Paul mentions the grace given him in his ministry two times (Rom. 12.3; 15.15).  Believers have gifts according to the grace that God has given them (Rom. 12.6).  More than this, though, the Christian life is about a transformation that takes place by God’s ‘mercy’—a synonym for ‘grace.’  ‘Mercy appears twelve times in Romans, and a key passage is Romans 12.1-2:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.  ² Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Here we see that God’s grace transforms us.  God’s mercies are not just the objective basis for us to live transformed lives.  Too often, we think that our changed lives as Christians is simply a matter of our gratitude for God’s grace.  But this separates any change in the way we live too much from God’s grace.  The mercies Paul speaks of in Rom. 12.1 refer back, first, to the end of the previous chapter, which brings Romans 9-11 to a climactic conclusion about God’s mercy: our disobedience shows forth God’s mercy (11.30-36).  The word ‘mercy’ does not appear before ch. 9 in Romans.  It occurs nine times in Romans 9 and 11, and only three more times after this in chs. 12 and 15.  So, when Paul introduces a whole section having to do with the way Christians live with ‘in view of God’s mercies,’ in Rom. 12.1, he is building on what he has said in Romans 9-11.  In fact, many read Rom. 9-11 as though the section’s main point is about God’s election (and this, too, is misread as a theology of the election of individuals rather than of people to advance God’s salvation plan for all humanity.  Indeed, Rom. 9-11 is really about God’s plan of mercy to Jews and Gentiles—all people.

Yet there is more to Paul’s theology of God’s mercy, and it can be introduced by realizing that what Paul says in Romans 12.2 reaches all the way back to what he says in Romans 1.28.  In  Romans 12.2, quoted above, the resolution is given to the conundrum that Paul posed at the beginning of Romans, in Romans 1.28: ‘And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind to do what ought not to be done.’  The debased mind has become the transformed mind because of everything that is said in the intervening chapters, and what is said is all about the mercies of God to make the disobedient obedient (cf. Rom. 1.5; 15.18). 

Thus, Paul speaks of God’s ‘gift’ (Rom. 3.24), His ‘free gift’ (Rom. 5.15-17; 6.23).  The ‘abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ’ (Rom. 5.17).  God’s grace is not merely a status of justification, a surprise verdict despite our sins and because of Christ’s righteousness.  It is also a dynamic power at work in us, a reigning of righteousness through Jesus Christ.  Thus, when we later come to Paul’s point in Romans 8, we are introduced to the dynamic working of the Holy Spirit.  He is the indwelling power of God who makes us obedient, not conformed to this world but transformed by the renewing of our minds.

Thus, the trajectory of Paul’s argument in Romans does not come to an end with divine forgiveness but with God’s transforming work in our lives, filled with the Spirit, bringing about the obedience of faith.  God’s grace is not only forgiving but also transforming, not only a status but also a dynamic empowerment.  God’s plan of salvation is not a community of forgiven sinners without also being a plan for the transformation of sinners.  Grace is not a theological doctrine without also being a relationship: the Spirit-empowering relationship in which we stand in Jesus Christ before God the Father. 

Unfortunately, there have been a number of false teachings about God’s grace.  Having considered what we read in Romans about God’s forgiving and transforming grace, we might now consider some of the errors people fall into in their understanding of God’s grace.

The Hyper-Grace View of God’s Grace:

On one extreme, there has been a so-called ‘hyper-grace’ view, which downplays sin because God’s grace constantly forgives.  Grace is understood to be a kind of free pass: it does not matter what we do because we are always going to be forgiven.  This view goes even further in Paul’s comments in Romans 6 when he asked, rhetorically, ‘Shall we sin that grace might abound?’  The wrong understanding of grace that he is opposing goes so far as to suggest that, because our sin shows God’s grace all the more, we help Him to reveal Himself as the God of grace when we sin.  The answer Paul gives to his question, of course, is ‘NO!’

In some Protestant churches, hyper-grace is a wrongful interpretation of the truth in Ephesians: ‘For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast’ (Ephesians 2.8-9).  Hyper-grace correctly sees that salvation is by grace, but it fails to understand that grace is more than forgiving grace: it is also transforming grace.  God’s work is not simply a justification of the sinner; it is also a making righteous of the sinner.  Paul goes on to say in the next verse, ‘For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them’ (Eph. 2.10).  God doesn’t stop with forgiveness: He goes on to create us as His work in Christ Jesus.  This transforming grace produces a life of good works in us.

The Insincere Cad View of God’s Grace:

Imagine the naughty schoolboy who knows he can always get off the hook if he only offers an apology.  Whether he runs off to a priest in a confessional, utters a 15-second confession with the rest of the church in a Sunday service, or simply says ‘Sorry’ at night in his prayers before going to bed, the cad’s repentance may well be insincere, designed only to get out of trouble.  There is no sorrow, no contrition, no restoration, and no transformation.  Sin and its consequences before a holy God is not taken all that seriously.  It is more a matter of making occasional mistakes—we are, after all, mere creatures.  Humans are not perfect, so the argument goes. 

Yet the truth is that Christians are called to higher standards, albeit standards that apply to letting God work in their lives rather than standards that they try to climb up to by their own efforts in order to obtain God’s mercy.  Paul says that, while sin once reigned in death, now God’s grace reigns in righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord (Romans 5.20-21).  He later calls believers not to let sin reign in their mortal bodies so that they obey, like slaves, their own passions (Romans 6.12).  They should not present their members to sin as instruments of unrighteousness but present their members to God as instruments for righteousness (Romans 6.13). 

The Hyper-Transformation View of God’s Grace:

Note that Paul’s words in Romans 6 indicate that it is possible for Christians to sin: God does not override the will but restores it.  God’s grace is transformative, but not in the sense that we cannot now sin.  Rather, God calls us to present our members as instruments of righteousness.  We have gone from living a life such that we are ‘not able not to sin’ (non posse non peccare)—i.e., we inevitably sin because we are slaves to sin—to living a life whereby it is now ‘possible not to sin’ (posse non peccare).  We have not, however, been overridden by God to the point that it is now ‘not possible to sin’ (non posse peccare).  This last is the hyper-transformation view.  (The Latin is used to show that the Church has long taught this, and it is the correct interpretation of Romans 6).  As Paul says,

Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted (Galatians 6.1).

In fact, most of the New Testament epistles are calling members of the church to give up sins and to live lives of righteousness: Christians are not perfected saints, only persons who know God’s transformative grace.  What they need to do is let God work in their lives.  They need the ongoing work of God’s grace, day by day, moment by moment.  They need, as Paul says, to walk according to the Spirit, to be led by Him (Rom. 8.4, 14), to put to death the deeds of the body by the empowering work of the Spirit (Rom. 8.13), and to set their minds on the things of the Spirit (Rom. 8.5).  This is ‘life in the Spirit’: not a hyper-transformation of being taken over by God but an empowering relationship with the Spirit of God.  As Paul says, ‘… as you have always obeyed, so now, … work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure’ (Philippians 2.12-13).

The error of ‘hyper-transformation’ arises, historically, because of an under-developed, Reformation theology that so emphasizes justification by God’s grace through faith that sanctification is thought of as an option.  Too often, Protestants have considered sanctification as not all that important because it is separated from justification, which saves us.  It is seen as a fruit of justification: we are saved by grace, so our moral lives are lived out in gratitude to God, not as a part of our salvation. 

This is not a correct understanding of some of the key 16th-century reformers, however.  John Calvin correctly understood sanctification as a result of regeneration: God’s grace is both forgiving and transforming through new birth.  Paul and John both speak of the Christian life in terms of this regeneration/re-Creation—John 3.3-7; 2 Cor. 5.17). This emphasis came along in Reformation theology in reaction to the prevailing view in Roman Catholicism in the 16^th century that works were necessary for salvation—a view that went against the teaching of St. Augustine (5^th century) on grace, let alone the Scriptures, and had become entrenched in Catholic teaching by this time.  The Protestant solution to this error, though, sometimes results in confusion and error as well.  If justification and sanctification are separated too severely, one returns to the question, ‘Why should we live any differently if God has already justified us by His grace?’  Rather, we should see that ‘justification’ (even if understood in this limited way as a declaration that we are righteous even though sinners) and ‘sanctification’ are united as the seamless outworking of God’s grace in us.  The Catholic error was to separate God’s grace from human works without seeing that human works, for Christians, were also God’s work in us (as Phl. 2.13 says, quoted above).  The Protestant error is to separate the forgiving grace of justification too much from the transforming grace of God continuously at work within us as we submit our lives to the Spirit.

The Reasonable Judge View of God’s Grace:

Another common error is held by those who think of God more as a reasonable rather than holy Judge.  On this view, surely God will not hold mere mortals to account if He is at all reasonable!  Surely we are not all that bad.  In fact, we are basically good.  Yet, on this view, the cross is not really that important: why did Jesus need to die on a cross for my sins?  Why would a reasonable God not allow for a few sins here and there from His creatures? 

Not only does this view fail to explain why Jesus had to die for our sins; it also misjudges the human condition.  It does not see the fundamental problem to be that we are sinners who need not a reasonable judge but a merciful God.  John captures the mistake of not seeing our sin seriously enough when he says,

If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.  ⁹ If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.  ¹⁰ If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us (1 John 1.8-10).

This view is also in error because it does not have a correct view of God’s holiness.  We are not essentially good people awaiting a reasonable Judge to pass judgement on us but sinners standing before a holy God.  We are to be holy because God is holy (Lev. 19.2; 1 Peter 1.15-16).

Conclusion: A Biblical Understanding of God’s Grace

Over against these errors, I would suggest the following understanding of sin, God, redemption on the cross, forgiveness, transformation, and life in the Spirit.

·       Human Sinfulness: The human condition is one of sin and depravity (Genesis 6.5; Rom. 1.28).  People are not ‘good enough.’  We all need a Savior.  There is no one righteous to bring salvation to sinful humanity.  We need God Himself to provide redemption through Christ Jesus.  Isaiah made this point: God saw that there was no one righteous, so He Himself put on righteousness and provided a Redeemer to those who turn from their transgressions (Isaiah 59.15-21).  Paul, having quoted Isaiah 59.7-8 in Romans 3.15-17, seems to be interpreting this text further in Romans 3.21ff: ‘But now the righteousness of God has been manifested….’  Indeed, ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God’ (Romans 3.23).

·       The Holiness of God: God is not a jolly Santa Clause who adds up your ‘nice’ acts versus your ‘naughty’ acts and lets you off if the former is longer than the latter.  He is not a reasonable Judge who lets you off because you are not all that bad.  He is holy, and before Him the most righteous among us can only say, ‘Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips.’  Any view of God that dismisses God’s holiness fails.

·       The Cost of Redemption: The sin of humanity is not dismissible.   Redemption is costly.  The cross is not reducible to a story of how much God loves us (‘I love you enough to die for you!’).  The cross is a sacrifice for sin; peace with God comes through the blood of Christ (Colossians 1.20).

·       Forgiving Grace: The Psalmist says to God, ‘with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared’ (Psalm 130.4).  We think of forgiveness as reducing fear, but the Psalmist realizes that, if God is the One before whom alone we can find forgiveness for our sins, He is the one to fear.  In the previous verse, he says, ‘If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?’ (v. 3).  Thus, John the Baptist inaugurated a ‘Kingdom of God’ movement of repentance for the forgiveness of sins (Luke 3.3), Jesus brought divine forgiveness through His death on the cross, and the disciples were then instructed by the risen Christ to proclaim a message to the nations of repentance and forgiveness of sins in Jesus’ name (Luke 24.47).  The ‘Gospel’ is ‘good news’ because it is the news that Jesus’ death on the cross was the sacrifice to save repentant sinners from our holy God’s just condemnation.  In taking our place, Jesus provided God’s forgiveness of sins.

·       Transforming Grace: God’s grace is more than forgiveness of sins.  It is also transformative.  If Paul says in Romans 1.28 that God gave sinners up to a ‘debased mind to do what ought not to be done,’ by Romans 12.2 he can say that we should be ‘transformed by the renewal of your mind.’  Once we were living in the flesh, and ‘our sinful passions, aroused by the law, were at work in our members to bear fruit for death’ (Romans 7.5).  Paul goes on to expound how the Law could not help sinners as it only pointed out what was wrong; indeed, the Law only exposed to sinners what else they might do to sin (Rom. 7.7-25).  This is not, however, the condition of the righteous, in whom God has worked His transforming grace.  Paul says, ‘But now we are released from the law, having died to that which held us captive, so that we serve not under the old written code but in the new life of the Spirit’ (Romans 7.6).  He expounds on this point from Romans 8.1, saying that

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.  ² For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.  ³ For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh,  ⁴ in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit (Romans 8.1-4).

·       Life in the Spirit: Finally, this forgiving and transforming grace of God is expressed not only in terms of the cross but also in terms of the indwelling work of the Holy Spirit.  This is not like graduating from a college and getting a degree, as though we have completed a stage and are now graduates.  Rather, it is a relationship—an ongoing relationship.  Thus, it is possible for Christians to sin, but it is possible not to sin if we dwell in the power of God.  Paul tells the Christians in Rome not to live according to the flesh as, if they do, they will die (Romans 8.13a).  The wages of sin are death (Romans 6.23).  Instead, life in the Spirit entails putting to death the deeds of the body, which will mean life (Romans 8.13b).  Paul is saying that, in light of the work of Christ, the prophecy of Ezekiel of God’s empowering Spirit is now fulfilled:

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  ²⁷ And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules (Ezekiel 36.26-27).

The Spirit does not override or replace the human spirit.  Rather, God’s Spirit is an empowering presence bringing God’s cleansing and transformation as we open ourselves to His work within us.

Freedom: A Universal Human Right versus A Value within a Particular (i.e., Christian) Tradition

The purpose of this brief essay is to offer a different basis for freedom than that given in post-Enlightenment, free societies of the West.  The argument presented is that freedom understood as a universal human right ends up with various conflicting views and fails in a variety of ways.  Christians often seek to establish freedom for their faith on the grounds of universal rights, but the position taken here is that they need to articulate their view of freedom from within their own religious tradition.

The Present State of the Argument

The defense of freedom in free societies seems to require defending not only good things but also bad things.  We defend free speech, but to do so we end up defending the free speech rights of hateful groups or the purveyors of pornography.  Freedom of religion is defended in such a way as to defend all belief systems: to defend one, one must defend the right of all.  This only makes sense to those who do not enquire too deeply into the beliefs and practices of some religions (e.g., Mayan human sacrifice?) or to those willing to live with the bad to get some good.  The problem we continually run into with absolute values is that they cannot function absolutely.  The dialogue in which we find ourselves in Western, liberal democracies has been the dialogue fit for the public square.  To defend our own space, we need to defend every other space.  So the argument goes.

Another way to put this—and the way we have come to accept—is that freedom is a ‘right’.  The language of ‘rights’ locates moral discourse in absolute values, disconnected to the narratives that give them meaning, and the potency of this way of thinking in the West can be seen in the fact that this is still accepted in a post-modern society that denies absolutes.  (This inconsistency is being recognized in left-wing groups, where free speech is increasingly under attack.  Yet opposition to free speech has not yet become a dominant position—and this attack on free speech is a real and present danger to the freedom of religion, too.)

This way of discussing freedom makes sense in an Enlightenment and post-Enlightenment world.  Matters of faith are held to be personal and private and, as such, worth being given their free space.  Does it matter what someone believes if those beliefs do not press into public spaces?  Yet, where they do, such a society tries to limit them: the artist decorating cakes for weddings, for example, who refuses to promote through his art the celebration of same-sex marriage on account of his own beliefs is censored and fined.  The counter-argument, still based on a concept of absolute values, is that the defense of freedom in a free society will defend the baker’s personal beliefs.

An Alternative

So, is there an alternative?  If we set aside the goal of defending freedom as a value of the public square and see it as a value of a particular faith, we end up with a rather different understanding of freedom.  What is a Christian basis for freedom?

While this will sound odd to Western ears, I would suggest that a Christian basis for freedom is not in absolute rights but in faith, in believing.  Christians understand salvation to be by God’s grace and through our faith in His provision of salvation, not in our righteous works.  Faith is the key to freedom.  Faith is not something that can be coerced (contrast the lawsuit against the Christian baker, e.g.).  Consequently, freedom rises from faith.  One cannot have faith without the freedom to believe.

This sort of freedom, a Christian freedom, leads further to an argument for witnessing to faith.  The notion of freedom in liberal society, as already noted, moves in the direction of private beliefs, not public witness.  Private beliefs might be protected, but public witness is censored.  A recent incident outside St. Paul’s Cathedral in London makes the point.  The liberal ministers of the Cathedral—having lost a Christian perspective and adopted that of Western culture—recently insisted that someone reading Scripture aloud in the area outside the cathedral should desist.  They have bought into the understanding of freedom that requires freedom of religion to be private instead of freedom as arising from faith that leads to public witness.  On the former view, the baker refusing to use his artistic abilities to support something he disagrees with is forcing his views on others, which is seen as an attack on the private freedom of others (in this case, same-sex marriage).  On the latter view, the baker is publicly witnessing to his faith—he is advocating freedom through his witness, which affirms a person’s right to believe.  He is expressing freedom, not attacking it.

A Christian view of freedom does not defend the right of people to believe whatever they want to believe.  Rather, it insists that, for belief to be genuine, it must not be coerced.  Thus, space is given to wrong beliefs in the hope that others will come to the right belief, not because all beliefs are equal.  Freedom is a value that arises from Christian belief, not a value independent from belief and located in human rights.

 A generic defense of the freedom of religion, moreover, runs aground in its defense of religions that have practices that should be condemned.  Christians should not defend their faith by defending freedom for all faiths—if they did so, they would be caught in the irony of defending the freedom of some religion that is repressive and demands submission (a freedom to oppress).  It is rather the unique understanding of freedom within the Christian faith that will keep Christians from that contradictory and self-defeating understanding of freedom.

Twenty-Five Theses on Theological Education in North America and Beyond

In Martin Luther’s day, a list of proposed theses would be posted somewhere in public (like the church door) so that they could be read ahead of a debate.  Day in and day out, I am involved with discussions or debates about theological education—its curriculum, its costs, its goals, its modes of delivery, etc.  These theses, then, represent views I have come to ‘after the debate’.  And yet, most points below are highly controversial and, I expect, too challenging to implement given the present structures and commitments of educational institutions in North America.  My hope, then, is that my points offer alternatives for those developing theological training elsewhere in the world.  My appeal is: Please do not duplicate the model of theological education that dominates the scene in North America.  Yet, even in North America, I expect that these theses will someday become relevant due to the issues being faced—financial, pedagogical, technological, ecclesiastical, ministry and missional issues.

1.      Theological education must be about more than academic learning.  Education needs to be understood as: information, use of tools, development of skills, the formation of character, spiritual growth, personal maturity, and community inclusion.  (Pedagogy.) 

2.      The seminary should train first for the needs of constituencies (denominations, missions, ministries), not first for the individual seeking theological education.  Seminaries should identify the denominations, in particular, with which they will work in a certain region of the country.  (Ecclesiology.)

3.      Those constituencies should be involved in the formation process—it is not something to expect from the seminary alone.  They might, for example, pick up the training in ministerial fields from the seminary.  They might also contribute faculty, who could be bi-vocational (such as pastor-teachers, missionary-teachers).  (Ecclesiology, pedagogy, finances.)

4.      Students from independent, non-denominational, local churches can fit into the theological education developed with constituencies in mind, but theological education should not be, in the first place, for an individual student.  Moreover, having more than one constituency (e.g., a denomination) represented is a strength as ‘iron sharpens iron’ in the academic process.  This is a vote for the multi-denominational seminary, but within related and supportive rather than antagonistic denominations.  This was once what the 'Evangelical' movement provided when it was more committed to orthodoxy across denominational boundaries and not torn apart by errors from the Prosperity Gospel to Progressive Theology.  (Ecclesiology.)

5.      The default level for training people for ministry, including pastoral ministry, should not be the master’s level.  Sufficient theological and ministerial training can be gained at the bachelor’s level.  (Pedagogy, ministry.)

6.      The demise of Bible colleges has left the American Church with various problems: the length of study and the high cost of study to train for ministry.  A 4-year degree in any field plus a 3-year Master of Divinity degree is unnecessary and costly in time and money.  (Finances, pedagogy.)

7.      Moreover, the emphasis in the master’s degree is not what churches need most.  Masters degrees are, typically, heavy on the academics and weak on other issues.  Trying to make a ministry course a master’s level course puts undue pressure to be academic on what is really a much simpler matter of preparation for ministry.  (Pedagogy, ministry.)

8.      Christian colleges and universities in America should abandon the John Dewey pragmatism that underlies American education, which resulted in the liberal arts undergraduate degree.  General education courses to ‘fill out’ or ‘broaden’ a student are not as important as is claimed.  Far too much time and money is wasted on these courses, and the European model of higher education is superior in this area.  If students need to be broadened in their education, this should take place at the high school level and in other ways in the culture, not by paying thousands of dollars to get two English courses, two social studies courses, a chemistry course, and so forth at the college level.  So, Christian colleges and universities should focus their degrees and reduce the B.A. from a four-year to a three-year time period.  (Pedagogy.)

9.     Christian colleges and universities in America should offer a three-year B.Div. degree that is equivalent to the seminary curriculum in many ways.  This could replace the religion or Bible major in the liberal arts degree and the Bible college degree.  This is already what is done in the UK, for example.  This would move students more quickly into active ministry and cut the cost of theological education by thousands and thousands of dollars.  Imagine having four more years of productive ministry and being far better off financially as one undertakes pastoral ministry.  (Pedagogy, finances.)

10.  Seminaries should work more closely with these colleges rather than remain independent.  The cost of duplicating libraries, classrooms, dormitories, and the waste of taking courses in a religion major and then again in a MA at seminary cannot be justified.  (Pedagogy, finances.)

11.  Denominations—sometimes on their own and sometimes in conjunction with others—might develop their own certificates of 10 courses (which would be one year full-time but could be completed part-time) that provide a foundation for theological education.  These would be an extension of local Christian high schools and very much like community/technical colleges.  This proposal would affect Christian colleges, which would be able to receive students with 1 or 2 years of study already.  In turn, the cost of Christian colleges would decrease (and Christian educational institutions must stop thinking that the way to remain viable financially is to increase their student body and offerings of various studies).  (Ecclesiology, pedagogy, finances.)

12.  These programs would be bridges to Christian colleges or seminaries, where a higher level of academic work in Bible, theology, Church history, and ethics would be studied.  Study at this level—at the college/seminary—would be either one or two years.  (Pedagogy.)

13.  The denominational ‘technical colleges’ should then receive the graduates back for in-service ministerial training.  Ministry courses would become reflective practice courses guided by mentors in the denominations.  The 'students'--paid interns--would contribute to ministries of the Church, including church-planting. (Ecclesiology, pedagogy, ministry, mission.)

14.  These technical colleges would offer life-long learning to persons in ministry.  Courses could be anything from short seminars to full courses.  Cooperation with colleges and seminaries might often be pursued—the key is flexibility to meet the needs on the ground, rather than teaching to a particular curriculum.  (Ecclesiology, pedagogy, ministry, mission.)

15.  Theological education should be contextual.  The idea that diversity is good in itself needs to be questioned.  Some celebrate having a global classroom, using online resources.  Some celebrate having diverse ecclesiastical groups in the same learning experience.  There are times where these things are good, but this is not an absolute value (as Western culture believes) and needs to be explained as a learning goal for a particular course of study.  In general, it is better to teach a course with a more homogenous group because this will allow a deeper engagement with the subject matter, including its application to a particular context (theological tradition, denomination, cultural context, etc.).  (Pedagogy, ministry.)

16.  The idea that North American seminaries should seek international students is, for the most part, seriously flawed.  If by this is meant relocating persons intercontinentally, this has proven to be seriously mistaken in many cases as students find themselves attached to the North American culture.  (Their children, e.g., become Americanized, and it is difficult to return to their parents' home context.)  Moreover, the discussion of theology and the Church is different for different contexts: a North American education for ministry is inferior for the African, Asian, European, or South American student.  (It may be transferable for the British, Irish, Australian, or New Zealand student—but they have their own, fine seminaries/colleges.)  Only when a degree's value is solely a matter of academic strength is a costly, international degree possibly defensible.  (Pedagogy, finances.)

17.  Systematic theology should be replaced with historical theology.  Theology is only diminished and distorted if it is understood as the arrangement of convictions per se, like Platonic ideals.  The study of theology should not be a study of the ideas (beliefs) of theology apart from the context of (a) Scripture, (b) the Church’s history, and (c) particular, contemporary contexts of the global Church.  (Pedagogy.)

18.  The theological curriculum needs at least four courses in historical theology (a contextual approach to theology): patristics, Reformation, post-Reformation, and the particular denomination/tradition of the student.  (Pedagogy.)

19.  The theological curriculum needs a course on missions so that students can locate their own ministry and missions in the context of the Church’s mission.  Too many ministers, after their theological education, understand ministry as (a) maintaining orthodox teaching and (b) giving pastoral guidance to current situations while (c) remaining somewhat clueless as to their role, and their churches’ roles, in doing the mission of the Church.  Besides, being Evangelical means, among other things, participating in a missional movement that goes beyond the boundaries of the institutional Church.  Such a course is primarily a course in the history of missions.  (The practice of missions can be pursued in the proposed technical colleges of the denominations.)  Moreover, increasingly 'missions' is made to mean everything to the detriment of fulfilling the Great Commission.  Also, Christian activism, when not directed by its mission, too often ends up as a pursuit of social justice in the public square, with both the Church and its Gospel mission sidelined or ignored.  Indeed, the theological curriculum often contributes to the disparagement of the Church (consider the proliferation of independent churches and the demise of the mainline denominations) and Great Commission missions.  (Pedagogy, missions.)

20.  The social sciences have been given too much emphasis in the seminary curriculum.  Pastoral care has become clinical counselling, guided by psychology.  Missions has become cross-cultural studies, guided by anthropology.  Ministerial studies has become leadership studies, guided by sociology and business.  Even ethics is becoming more about social justice than personal ethics as a socio-political focus becomes paramount in society in general.  The antidote to this is to offer a Biblical and historical theological curriculum.  (Pedagogy, ministry, missions.)

21.  Biblical languages are essential for a proper theological education.  Study of the Biblical languages gives students access to all the theological discourse and various tools of theology.  It also locates theological education in the Biblical text—not in a collection of ideas or a contemporary situation.  The primary role of the seminary graduate is to teach the Scriptures, and Biblical languages are foundational to that task.  All the original apostles knew Greek and Hebrew, of course, and were deeply steeped in a knowledge of the Scriptures.  This should remain one of our goals for theological education for ministry as well.  (Pedagogy.)

22.  The post-Christian culture of the West requires more than the one obligatory ethics course in the standard theological curriculum.  Ministerial training has much to do with teaching ministers how to train pagans to live Godly lives.  This is both a matter of training individuals to live righteously and training communities to be the people of God’s Kingdom over against the world.  Being the Church is not primarily about offering a Sunday morning worship service but about living as a Christian community.  Christian ethics is both personal ethics and ecclesial ethics.  (Pedagogy, ministry, missions, ecclesiology.)

23.  Online education should be a part of contemporary, theological education, but the latter should not be reduced to or limited to independent study in online courses.  (Online education has become a way to make money for colleges and seminaries: the savings is not passed on to the students (who pay the same prices for courses) but helps the institutions meet their growing costs.  This argument is compelling for administrators, who typically do not worry about the implications for pedagogy.)  Nor are online forums an answer to the need for more than online lectures (whether synchronous or asynchronous), reading, and assignments.  Theological education has to be more personal since it involves so much more.  Online options in education can play a positive role (accessibility, costs, teaching a group far away, etc.), but it should include other forms of formation essential to the training of ministers for the Church.  (Pedagogy, finances.)

24. One way to accomplish a more personal and interactive theological education is through the use of tutorials.  In classrooms, students often sit quietly, listening either to the professor or to the three or four students who always ask questions and engage in dialogue.  In online courses, students either do the same in Zoom/Skype classes or work fairly independently from their homes.  Tutorials, whether in the professor’s office or in small groups on Zoom/Skype, will improve this.  The old Cambridge and Oxford approach to the bachelor’s level education that is based on the tutorial model will work well for both on campus and online teaching.  The use of forums--where students write a few hundred words and respond to other students writing--is time consuming and very inadequate (speaking as someone who has seen this in practice far too much!).  (Pedagogy.)

25. Church-based theological education, as outlined above, should also include theological education at the K-12 and lay level.  Theological education is needed far more than is appropriate for it to be a costly, master's level degree intended for only some in the Church.  The role of apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers is to 'equip the saints for the work of ministry', to 'attain to the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the Son of God,' to become mature in Christ, and to be able to withstand the winds of false doctrine, human cunning, and deceitful schemes (Ephesians 4.11-14).  Church-based theological education is essential.  (Ecclesiology.)

A Missional Movement or an Institution? Understanding the Church and Its Mission in the Early Church and Today

The subject of this essay is the need for, and the relationship between, the institutional Church and the missional movement.  In light of recent turmoil in Protestant, mainline denominations and the emergence of independent, non-denominational, local churches and small fellowships of churches, the notion of an 'institutional Church' has been subjected--like all Western institutions--to deconstructive criticism.  On the other hand, mission societies struggle to relate to church bodies, whether local or denominational, as is illustrated by the fact that many missionaries today find most of their funding from individuals.  While we are about rebuilding ecclesiastical institutions in new, revitilized, orthodox denominations that provide doctrinal and ecclesial structure, we also need to rethink the relationship between these institutions to the mission of the Church.

The Early Church and Its Institutional Structure

Earlier New Testament scholarship—say, in the 1960s-1980s—was beholden to the idea that the early Church began as a ‘charismatic’ movement that developed into a ‘catholic’ institution by the beginning of the second century.  This ‘early Catholicism’ theory was defined in terms of one cause and two developments.  What allegedly precipitated this development was a supposed crisis: (1) the delay of the Parousia.  On the slightest evidence, scholars assumed that the early Christians believed Jesus was going to return in their lifetime.[1]  When the years rolled on and Jesus did not return, the Church had to rethink itself in terms of ecclesiastical structure, appointing deacons, elders, and bishops, and of orthodox doctrine.[2]The developments, and, thus, the other two elements of 'early catholicism', were: (2) a move from faith as an act of believing to faith as a system of belief, and (3) the church as a community with various ‘charisms’ or gifts to an institution with a hierarchy of leadership. 

To maintain this theory, a number of assumptions had to be held against the New Testament evidence.  First, there is no Biblical or early Christian evidence that the Church had a crisis over any delay of the Parousia.  (The concern addressed in 2 Peter 3.4 is repeated elsewhere in New Testament literature.) Second, in Paul’s undisputed letters, we find both a charismatic version of the church, such as in 1 Corinthians 12, and an institutional version of the church, such as when Paul addresses not only the saints but also the ‘overseers and deacons’ of the church (Philippians 1.1).  Similarly, when Luke records in his history of earliest Christianity that Paul and Barnabas appointed elders in every church (Acts 14.23), an interpreter assuming an Early Catholic theory of development has to argue that this practice is not accurate but is read back into the account from a later time when leaders were appointed in the churches.  Reading against what primary sources record historically from two thousand years later should require a very high degree of proof--and certainly more than a theory.  Third, the theory requires distinguishing the early Church rather sharply from the long-established, community structure of the Jewish synagogue.  While there were surely new dynamics for house churches, the assumption that the early Church rejected the notion of ‘elders’ from the synagogue is less likely than that they continued such a practice.  Fourth, the notion that there cannot be a mixed idea of charismatic gifting and structure is only an assumption—an assumption that the evidence itself contravenes.  Indeed, in our day, Pentecostal and charismatic churches that emphasize multiple gifts in the church community also have various versions of ecclesiastical structure, and some even have bishops who oversee local pastors, who themselves exercise considerable authority.  Fifth, on the flip side of the fourth point, the notion that elders and bishops in the early Church held office because of some appointment rather than gifting that, once recognized and proven, led to appointment needs to be challenged.  As Gordon Fee argues, the qualifications listed for overseers or elders and deacons in the Pastoral Epistles seem to suggest that persons were chosen on the basis of their recognized character and ministry (as also in the case of elderly widows, 1 Tim. 5).  In other words, they functioned in these ways, and therefore their appointment was more than anything else a recognition of their character.  Function, rather than ‘office’, seems to be the primary way in which the Church acknowledged and received elders and deacons.  (Cf. Gordon D. Fee, 1 and 2 Timothy, Titus (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1989).)  ‘Function’ is rather close to ‘charism’ or gift, and this is probably to be seen in Paul’s recognition in the ‘charismatic’ chapter of 1 Corinthians 12 that ‘administering’ is a gift along with such things as healing or speaking in tongues (v. 12).

The Church and Its Mission

Now, what does all this have to do with the Church and its mission?  Much in every way, as Paul might have said himself.  The discussion so far indicates a theoretical tension between the Church as an institution and the Church as a people gifted for ministries.  It has also suggested that there is no absolute distinction between these two notions, as though the Church began as a believing people in community gifted for ministries by the Holy Spirit and developed into an institution with hierarchical leaders and doctrines that defined the orthodox faith.  Quite the contrary.  Jesus’ movement outside institutional Judaism involved a challenge of official teaching where it was wrong, and in so doing involved an articulation of right—orthodox—teaching based on Scripture and Jesus’ words.  Moreover, Jesus’ ministry was a continuation of John the Baptist’s ministry, and both were a ministry emphasizing the return of sinful Israel from ‘captivity’ in their sins to enter the kingdom of God as God's now washed and righteous people.  The textual location for both John’s and Jesus’ ministries were in the ‘return from exile’ texts of Isaiah (40.3 and 61.1-2).  (It did not matter that some of Israel did return from exile--many did not.  Nor did it matter what other Jews thought about a return from exile.  The fact is that John, Jesus, and the early Church thought of the prophecies of a return from exile—including the coming of the Messiah, the forgiveness of sins, the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, the establishment of a new covenant, and the inclusion of Gentiles—as beginning to be fulfilled in their day and through the existence of the Church.)  Such a ministry involved the creation of a righteous ‘assembly’, or church, that was continuous with the qahal YHWH or ‘assembly of the Lord’ in the Old Testament.

Consequently, the significance of an institution was relativized.  It was not wholly rejected but was to find meaning only insofar as it served a higher end: the establishment of a righteous people with a mission to the world.  Ecclesiastical offices were to serve such a purpose.  Church authority was subordinate to the Gospel.  Power was not located in status but in God’s working His purposes through clay vessels for ministry.  (This is why, incidentally, the early Church did not advance a theory of leadership as many do today.  People functioned in ministries rather than held authoritative offices, although some combination of these notions was possible.)

Hopefully, it is not too early in the advancement of this point to bring this around to an application.  We see, on the one hand, the demise of mainline denominations in our day in the West—a steady decline of churches that have rejected orthodoxy.  This is not true outside the West, although there we find a proliferation of independent churches with little connection to ecclesiastical history.  In these ways, there is in our day an anti-institutionalism that affects our view of the Church.  This does not mean, however, that the alternative discussed above has moved into the ascendency.  That is, the very demise of institutions of the Church has undermined the mission of the Church.  This is likely so because independent Churches have lost the thread of the history of mission over the centuries as well as because it takes something like a denomination—a collection of like-minded churches—to accomplish the mission of the Church.

The Evangelical Movement and Its Mission

Furthermore, ‘Evangelicalism’ is under considerable threat in our day.  It barely a movement but in danger of being coopted by causes that derive more from the culture than the Gospel.  It once flourished in a role of reforming institutions (mainline denominations, e.g.) as long as this was still possible.  It now struggles to find its place when it has no relation to institutions and where it, as a movement, tries to become an institution—an Evangelical institution, such as we find with Evangelical denominations.  ('Evangelical denominations' are fine--as orthodox churches in an ordered relationship to one another--but they still need to participate in a broader Evangelical movement.)  Evangelicalism is also under threat when certain conservative groups that are not actually orthodox or consistent with the ‘Evangel’ get included into Evangelical groups, like the churches that teach a Prosperity or Cessationist theology.  Evangelicalism is further threatened where liberals have snuck into some Evangelical groups to undermine Evangelicalism and advance an unorthodox agenda.  (One sees this in the Church of England, for example, where some have affirmed the culture's teaching on homosexuality while still maintaining that they are Evangelical.)  Yet there is also a danger to Evangelicalism where it ceases to be the movement in and around and for the institution and becomes the institution itself.  As earlier argued, a movement of people with its community above the institution and its mission beyond the institution need not be opposed to ecclesiastical institutions.  The latter, though, need to serve the former, and the former needs to reform the latter.  In other words, we need both, but in the right relationship.

This is part of the success of the Assemblies of God denomination, for example.  It developed from a movement--the Pentecostal Movement, which grew out of the Holiness Movement and healing ministries--into a fellowship of churches precisely because this was necessary to accomplish the mission of the Church.  The Gospel produces mission, and the mission defines the organization, and the denomination arises in order to accomplish the mission.  Apparently, there was a discussion in its early years as to whether the Assemblies of God should become a denomination or remain a fellowship of churches.  Even while it held a strong conviction that the return of Christ would be soon, it became a denomination, but one that was highly motivated as a mission force.  One might argue that some of its problems arise precisely where its vision of mission is lost and where more institutional concerns set in.  Another problem arises where the denomination fails to combine with other denominations that are united in the Gospel and the Church's mission.  Yet it stands as an example for how a clear understanding of the Gospel and a clear vision for mission gives rise to a vibrant denomination and missionary movement.

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[1] One text brought out to support this view was 1 Thessalonians 4.16-17.  Here, Paul speaks of the dead in Christ rising first when Jesus returns and then ‘we who are alive’ being caught up to meet him in the air.  Paul’s use of ‘we’ here, though, is appropriate because, when writing, he is alive, not because he is convinced Jesus will return in his lifetime.  How do we know this?  Jesus himself said that nobody knows the hour when the Son of Man will come (Mark 13.26, 32).  While some critics might suggest that this passage is read back into Jesus’ discourse from the later Church to explain the delay of the Parousia, such critical scholarship would also want to say that this is an historical saying of Jesus on the grounds that it says the Son does not know something.  The more likely explanation however, is that Jesus is himself the source of the Church’s consistent view that nobody knew when Jesus would return.  Moreover, when some touted the notion that Jesus had already returned, Paul responded to say that the time had not come and that the time of rebellion would come first (2 Thessalonians 2).  (The theory of Early Catholicism, of course, has led some to dismiss Pauline authorship of 2 Thessalonians these grounds.  And so the adjustments of the evidence continue to be made to fit the theory.)

[2] One work that encapsulated this idea of Early Catholicism was that of James D. G. Dunn, Unity and Diversity in the New Testament: An Inquiry into the Character of Earliest Christianity (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1977).  One of the four types of early Christianity that Dunn thought he could identify in the New Testament books was ‘Early Catholicism’.  This way of reading the first century Church involves reading against the dynamics of the Church that we read in the first century, New Testament books.

What Was Missing in the Senate Judicial Committee’s Kavanaugh Hearings?

The Senate Judicial Committee's hearings on the appointment of Judge Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court were painful enough to watch.  Yet they captured social pressure points throughout society.  The elephant in the room was the Roe v. Wade decision that unborn children lack personhood and may be put to death at any time up to birth.  That dividing issue in the USA led to all the tricks and theatrics in the hearings.  Yet the presenting issue had to be something else since the ‘Ginsburg Rule’ says that candidates will not reveal how they would vote on particular issues.

What better way, then, to bring the candidate down in the #MeToo era than to make a claim of sexual abuse?  As a real Catholic, unlike lip-serving Catholics in high governmental positions who regularly advocate for abortion and homosexuality, Kavanaugh surely personally opposes abortion.  While we do not know how, as a judge, he would vote on the matter (for his role is to interpret laws, not make them), he would be a dangerous addition to the court from a pro-abortion position.  So, some issue other than how one might vote on abortion had to be found.  That issue somehow emerged in July and has been artfully and carefully played by the Democrats on the committee to delay any confirmation.  It falls to every viewer to decide what they will about these murky matters, yet it seems obvious that the game-plan has been about delaying the vote and nothing else.

It is, furthermore, politically correct to believe allegations of sexual abuse—and people seem to believe accusers rather than defendants on this issue.  The accuser no longer has to prove the accusation; the accused has to prove innocence: one is assumed guilty until proven innocent.  Such is the legacy of the #MeToo movement.  Men, white men, in particular, are the group to malign and disparage.  And how better to make a claim of sexual abuse than to lodge it in an obscure past with no corroborating witnesses to ensure that the courts will not touch it?  Proof is unnecessary for slander to stick, and slander, not proof, will bring down a nominee.  As I have often said to students, a well-articulated thesis is still not an argument, no matter how much it may sound as such to some.  Similarly, a well-presented story, which has surely happened to many in similar ways, is still not a legitimate claim, no matter how much it may sound as such to some.

So, why call for an FBI investigation?  Because the goal is not to get to the truth for the accuser but to delay a vote long enough to change—it is hoped—the majority in the Senate from Republicans to Democrats, the pro-abortion party.  A delay, moreover, offers the possibility that other baseless claims may be put forward, with the potential of further investigations and further delays.  Indeed, the call for an FBI investigation is a worthwhile gamble if it provides the extra time for further allegations to arise or further issues to pursue.  The primary game is to delay the vote on Kavanaugh until after the next elections.  Another possibility that any investigation might afford is that uncertain conclusions will be reached, which will pressure some senators to vote 'safely' against the accused--a political vote with great, personal harm and without regard to the presumption of innocence until proving someone guilty.

The historic hearings of Judge Kavanaugh make painful viewing.  One has deep sympathy for girls and women who experience this kind of sexual abuse, whether or not the accuser in this case ever was abused by someone in her past.  Her testimony rings true not because she has substantiated any of it but because it surely has happened to someone and has happened all too often.  Human depravity reaches every aspect of our existence, and sexual depravity and violence are the two most obvious examples. 

One also has deep sympathy for the nominee, who has been accused of horrific things long ago for which there is no proof whatsoever.  One fears being so accused by someone in this #MeToo era—like the early Christians, who were hauled before magistrates and put to death in large numbers by their neighbours.  Who will be fingered next by shrill voices for a crime he did not commit and dragged before judges eager to condemn? 

Furthermore, one gasps at the inequity of it all, with selective attacks on some but not others.  One groans, knowing that the previous hearings of Bork and Thomas were nothing but public character assassinations.

Yet the painful viewing also has to do with how this whole matter lacks key practices that make human flourishing possible in a fallen world—things that we do not find in our political system but are present in the Church.  The viewing begs for both justice and pastoral care, but neither are on offer.  The hearing is nothing more than an exercise in public slander.  What we watch is life without the elements of Christian faith—a living hell.  (Jean-Paul Sartre, of all people!, captured this in his No Exit.)  Fear of God, truth-telling, confession, forgiveness, and restoration are all part of the Church’s practices in regard to human sin, and none of these are on offer in such hearings.  The point is that we watch the hearings needing something more than what the hearings intend to give.  We watch the exposure of sin without belief in sin, the search for truth by persons who do not believe in truth, and the care of sinners by persons with only political motives.  We watch hell in operation.

Someone in these hearings is lying—and I have a strong belief that I know who.  Yet, that is not the point of this essay.  The focus is on what is so painfully lacking in the hearing for witnesses across the nation and even world.  Fear of God is almost totally lacking, apart from a line of questioning from Rep. John Kennedy of Louisana.  Truth-telling falls flat in a room charged with political motivations.  Instead, who is more rhetorically believable to the viewers wins the day.  Some sin, whether unjust accusation or sexual abuse, is involved.  Yet viewers watch without any movement of the situation through confession, forgiveness, and restoration.  All the things we associate with God Himself—truth, mercy, sacrificial love—are shut out the door of this hellish hearing.

The Law, it is often said, is an ass.  It is stubborn and unmovable, and it is painfully stupid in the sense that it is all about application, not reason, let alone redemption.  Yet, a quasi-legal, Judicial Committee hearing (it is far from a court case, to be sure) of the sort we have witnessed in Washington this week is the Law in the hands of (certain) devious law-makers interested in politics rather than justice.  And what drives this to the lowest level of filthy dealing is to hear the accusing law-makers disparage the ethics of Kavanaugh when they themselves are guilty of similar things.

Yet, one more piece is missing in all this.  Kavanaugh is accused of sexual misconduct in a day and age when sexuality has been redefined.  It is agonizing to watch senators who have no sexual morality of their own, who accept pre-marital and extra-marital sex, who applaud same-sex intercourse and so-called ‘marriage’ attack Kavanaugh.  Themselves proponents of things disgraceful, they seek to disgrace others.  While the story of the woman caught in adultery was added later to John’s Gospel (John 7.53-8.11), it is an early story about Jesus and probably historical, albeit not canonical.  Even so, from it, one hears the words of Jesus ringing in one’s ears, ‘Let him who has no sin cast the first stone,’ during this merciless take-down of Kavanaugh on the basis of some allegation (and nothing more) about one instance thirty-six years ago. 

These hearings would be more bearable if the accusation against Kavanaugh were true and he admitted it.  At least then we might witness some Godly confession, although we would certainly not witness forgiveness and redemption as the opposition is politically motivated.  Scripture gives us King David, murderer and adulterer and ruler that he was, as a man after God’s own heart.  Why?  Despite his great sin, his life was lived in the pursuit of holiness and righteousness.  He prayed for forgiveness to our merciful God,

Psalm 51:1-4 Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.  ² Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!  ³ For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.  ⁴ Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you may be justified in your words and blameless in your judgment.

Even this possibility—of witnessing confession—is removed from the Kavanaugh hearing: he denies the accusation. 

We can only expect so much from committee hearings, and what we have come to expect is nothing good whatsoever.  But when the nation watches such a process as we have seen play out, it is the absence of a just and merciful Judge who will forgive the penitent of the vilest of transgressions that stands out.  Or, it is the absence of truth-telling and a sincere pursuit of justice that stands out. To watch such hearings leaves us longing for God.  Indeed, this leaves us with a single word to capture these hearings: merciless.  Thank God that, sinners though we are, our hearing before Him will be nothing of the sort.  As John wrote, ‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness’ (1 John 1.9).  As Paul says, God is just ‘and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus,’ (Romans 3.26), for Jesus came to save sinners (1 Timothy 1.15).  In these hearings, we confront our own need for God.