12 So
Jesus also suffered outside the gate in order to sanctify the people through
his own blood. 13 Therefore let us go to him outside the camp and bear the
reproach he endured. 14 For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city
that is to come (Heb 13:12-14).
This is
a continuation of my [lightly edited] email exchange with David Baggett. He
coauthored Good God with Jerry Walls.
It’s a
sequel to this post:
Your brother in Christ,
Dave
Nice
sign-off. I appreciate the sentiment. However, when you say that, I can’t help
comparing it to something else you and Jerry said. Permit me to begin with a
hypothetical story.
Suppose
I have a best friend in high school. Let’s call him Spencer. We’ve known each
other since first grade. He lives two houses down from me.
Over the
years, Spencer has been a better friend to me than I’ve been to him. He’s been
a better friend to me that I’ve been to myself. He’s been strong for me when I
was weak.
One
time, Spencer and I were competing for the same scholarship. When he found out,
he withdrew from the competition. He didn’t want to win the scholarship if that
meant my losing the scholarship.
One
time, when we were at a 7/11, an armed robber came into the store and pointed a gun at
me. Spencer stepped between me and the gun to shield me.
My family
and his family are both into breeding racehorses. That’s the family business.
Spencer and I have always tried to keep the family business separate from our
friendship.
One time
my family was almost broke. We really needed to win the purse to stay in business.
Spencer overheard his dad telling someone on the phone to throw the race by
threatening our jockey.
If we
lost, we would have lost everything. But Spencer tipped me off. When his dad
found out, his dad threw Spencer out of the house. Cut him off.
That’s
the kind of friend Spencer has been to me.
One day
I was talking to a new student at school. Let’s call him Scott. He’d only been
there a few weeks. I was trying to help him fit into his new surroundings. We
were sitting on the bleachers, watching a football practice. I was pointing out
the students to Scott, so that he knew their names.
When I
pointed to Spencer, Scott grimaced. I asked him why.
He told
me that he couldn’t stand Spencer. He told me Spencer was probably the kind of
guy who tore the wings of flies as a little boy. If there were dismembered cats
in the neighborhood, Spencer would be the prime suspect.
Needless
to say, Scott’s reaction to my best friend made a tremendous first impression.
At that moment I said to myself, “Scott and I can’t be real friends. I can
still be a friend to him. I can help him out if he gets in a bind. But he can
never be a friend to me. Not as long as that’s how he feels that way about
Spencer. Given his contempt for my best friend, there’s no rapport between us.”
Now
let’s compare that to a real story. My story. God awakened me when I was a
teenager. Now I’m 53. God not only saved me when I was a teenager, but he’s
kept me all these years. He’s guarded me and guided me. Protected me and
provided for me. He’s been more faithful to me that I’ve ever been to him. This
is the God I live for. I owe him everything. He’s done far more for me than the
idealized friend in my hypothetical story.
Then I
read a book by Jerry Walls and David Baggett which says my God could command
people to torture little children for the fun of it.
When I
read that, it doesn’t hurt my feelings. It doesn’t offend me. But it does
alienate me. It instantly dissolves any sense of spiritual rapport between me
and Jerry or David. A chasm opens up between us. They can’t talk that way about
my God, and still expect to be friends. That’s too compartmentalized. Too
horizontal–at the expense of the vertical.
Now, you
might respond, “Oh, we’re not talking about God. We’re just talking about your
idea of God. Your Calvinist conception of God.”
Except
that if I’m right, then my idea of God maps onto the one true God–just as you
think your Arminian concept of God maps onto the one true God.
Steve, you have your
convictions and I have to respect that. We have deep disagreements but I would
hope our agreements trump. I do not deny you are a Christian. I would hope you
would not deny that we are.
Thanks.
My point is not to stifle your freedom of expression, but to point out that when
you make certain statements, these have consequences. This isn’t just
theoretical. It isn’t just debating ideas for the sake of ideas.
It’s too
facile to put respective theological convictions in airtight containers that
have no impact on Christian fellowship. That reduces Christian faith to
sociology. I’d be dishonoring God if what you said about God–as I understand
him–had no impact on what I thought of you. I’d be acting as if God isn’t the
most important person in my life. What you think about God, what I think about
God, and what I think about you are intertwined.
I
haven’t said anything about your Christian bona fides or Jerry’s. I was
discussing a different issue. If, however, you’re actually asking how I’d
respond to that question, I’d say the following:
i) Do I
think Arminians can be genuine Christians? Sure. Conversely, some Calvinists
are nominal Christians. Some Arminians are heavenbound while some Calvinists
are hellbound.
ii)
There are different types or levels of disagreement. At one level, there’s the
purely exegetical debate. For instance, I. H. Marshall interprets John, Romans,
and Ephesians differently than Tom Schreiner, Greg Beale, or Vern Poythress.
That’s simply a disagreement over what the Bible teaches. That, of it, shouldn’t
distance us from one another. At that level it’s not fundamentally different
from film criticism, where we offer competing interpretations of a particular
film.
iii)
However, you, Jerry, and some other Arminians (e.g. Roger Olson) have upped the ante. If you say (and this is a stock example which you and Jerry use
throughout your book) that the Calvinist God could command people to torture
little children for fun, then that’s not like debating the best interpretation
of ancient texts.
And your
position generates something of a dilemma. For you think a Calvinist should cut
you more slack than your own position allows for.
We don’t
worship God directly. Rather, mental worship is mediated through our concept of
God. Our worshipful attitude is directed at what we believe God to be like.
If you
say the Calvinist God could command people to torture little children for fun,
and if it turns out that the Calvinist God is real, then were you and Jerry
worshiping the one true God?
Notice
that I’m not judging your Christian profession from a Calvinist perspective.
Rather, I’m judging your Christian profession on your own terms, given how you
yourself chose to frame the issue.
Haven’t
you burned your bridges? Is the Calvinist God still a viable fallback option
for you, given what you’ve said about him?
iii)
Finally, one of my basic beefs with freewill theism is how often the freewill
theist’s conception of God reduces to a purely theoretical (and ultimately
fictitious) intellectual construct. Their starting-point is philosophical
anthropology. Specifically: human libertarian freedom. That’s their axiomatic
postulate.
They
then retroengineer their model of God and providence from that starting-point.
They constantly tweak their model of God, adding an attribute here, subtracting
an attribute there. Their concept of God is a concept they’ve created through
various ad hoc adjustments to make it consistent with philosophical
anthropology. Make it all balance out.
Their
idea of God is hardly an object of faith or worship. The whole exercise has an
air of unreality. A made-up idea of God–like a boy who builds a castle out of
LEGO bricks.
I think
freewill theists of that variety lack genuine piety or reverence.
Your
position is an instance of Ockhamism, in my estimation.
You and
Jerry simply redefined Ockhamism in ad hoc fashion. There’s nothing Occamist
about saying God doesnt love every sinner. You can try to attack
reprobation/limited atonement on other grounds (exegetical, philosophical), but
don’t take a historic theological position with an established meaning,
unilaterally redefine it, then use it as a term of abuse. That’s simply
unethical.
I meant to say I do not
think the God you worship is different from the God I worship.
Sorry to
be a pest, but isn’t that ambiguous?
Are you
saying Arminians and Calvinists subjectively worship the same God or
objectively worship the same God?
For
instance, are you saying Calvinists subjectively worship the God of Reformed
theism, even though the real God is the God of Arminian theism, and the
Arminian God accepts their confused worship as if they were intentionally
worshiping the Arminian God?
Since
you don’t think the God of Reformed theism actually exists, he can’t be
objectively worshiped. There is nothing real that directly corresponds to that
idea of God. And when a Calvinist worships God, the mental or psychological
object of his worship is his Calvinist concept of God, in distinction to the
extramental reality. So how does your position sort out?
I think
a function of our being Christians is that, though we can’t both be right about
every aspect of soteriology, we worship the same God. Else we wouldn’t both be
Christians. None of us has it all figured out, but we needn’t to in order to be
reconciled to God. What we agree on is enough for that purpose.
And if
you came to the conclusion that the God of Reformed theism was real, what would
your reaction be?
I would
be sad. :) If God reveals this, I would have no choice to submit to the truth.
I
appreciate your charitable spirit, but ultimately I don't want Arminians to
treat me more charitably than they treat my God. We should be in solidarity
with our God, out of sheer, immeasurable gratitude.
If, say,
someone mistreated my mother, I’d rather share her mistreatment than be treated
better than my mother. Indeed, it would be unconscionable for me to accept
better treatment for myself, but worse treatment for her. If she is mistreated,
I’d rather be mistreated with her, than be well-treated.
And it’s
far more important to treat God as he deserves. I can’t divvy things up the way
you do. That’s too abstract. Christian faith is ultimately about devotion to
God. I can’t bifurcate how Arminians regard my God from how they regard me. I
don’t wish to. I’d be slapping God in the face to accept that dichotomy. If
anything, they should obviously think far less of me than they do of my God.