some thoughts

Some Sunday afternoon meanderings…

Providence. I’ve decided to officially join/become a member of a wonderful congregation of believers here in New Jersey–something I’ve never really done before. I suppose being on “staff” at a couple of other churches would necessarily include a membership of some kind, but as far as making a public profession, and being publicly received into membership with a local body (my baptism being a profession/acceptance into the church universal), this will be a first. I’m very much looking forward to it. The pastor/lead elder (or whatever the terminology) is a simply wonderful man of God. We had a great conversation over breakfast this past week–one both “real” and jovial (can the two be separated, since God is the ultimate reality and the source of all joy?). I headed this paragraph ‘providence’ because God has provided me a home away from home here, first, and second, the pastor studied under both Cornelius Van Til and John Frame–the latter professor being the very reason I’d wanted to go to RTS (Orlando). Feeling quite strongly that I was to go to Wheaton instead, though joyous in that I believe it’s His will, that decision was also a bit of a sacrifice for wanting so much to sit under Professor Frame’s instruction. It’s just so gracious of God to give me someone of a Frame-like mind who, in all liklihood, I’ll be able to have more of a personal connection with than I might with Professor Frame. (Now, I wonder, what does he think of Kline? Ha!) Regardless, I’m so thankful for this congregation, and I’m really looking forward to the rest of my time here.

Double-Predestination. (Quite a subject change, I know.) This topic came up in this morning’s Sunday School class–the subject matter of which being an overview of the Westminster Confession. My (semper reformanda) Calvinism was forged in the fires of John Piper’s sermons, books, and radio broadcasts, so I naturally (albeit eventually) embraced his “seven-point Calvinism“–the sixth point of which being what’s called double-predestination. (Piper’s seventh point is a kind of felix culpa; the logical outcome of predestination and absolute divine sovereignty.) The explanation of “DP” at that link above covers part of the issue, but not all of it (I don’t think). It’s a question of cause. To oversimplify, “DP” is basically the doctrine that God not only positively chose whom He would rescue, but in doing so he also necessarily chose to not-elect others. But this idea runs too much of a risk of making God the author and direct cause of someone’s condemnation in the same way that God is the author and direct cause of someone’s election/salvation. This cannot be, because God is not the author of sin or condemnation. Here’s the distinction: salvation is the direct result of God’s action, whereas condemnation is the indirect result of God’s inaction. The elect are saved because God saves them from their sin. The reprobate are condemned becaues they get what they want–no interference from God. That is, God puts forth his hand to rescue and restore his people to himself, but He does not put forth his hand to push the others over the precipice of perdition–they do that on their own, as we all would apart from his gracious intervention.

Clear as mud? Understandable. Picture it like this: The Fall was like a huge starting gun which set off the entire human race running full-tilt away from God (the object of their utmost and new-found hatred) and toward the cliffs of eternal condemnation–like a world full of crazed lemmings (”regardless of their doom, the little victims play”). Justice (what’s “fair”) demanded that the whole mess of men be allowed to fall forever into the abyss of perdition for such cosmic treason. But grace entered in, and from every little group of enmity-powered lunatic lemmings, hell-bent on self-desruction, God stretched out his hand to scoop up an “innumerable multitude” and restore them to himself. Not all, but by grace, an “innumerable multitude.”

Justice also demanded that the remainder of the treasonous mass of crazed lemming-men be terminated immediately; that the axe fall quickly and decisively. And, for the sake of Justice, that axe did begin to fall decisively. But in entered common grace, slowing the speed of the axe’s inevitable fall, while God works in time, space, and history to redeem his chosen people. But–back to the subject at hand–he in no way causes a person to be condemned by some positive, direct action–he does not push, he slows them down by common grace, but he does not push. The crazed lemmings run freely toward their doom. God is the author of salvation; but lemming-humans themselves are the authors of their own condemnation. Well, that was kind of fun, wasn’t it? But you may still object, “But in this worldview, the finger still points toward God: whether by action or inaction, as Creator it was still God who allowed sin to be in the world in the first place–I mean, it had to come from somewhere?

The Possibility of Divine Sin. I’ve written about this before; God didn’t create evil or sin, but he did create something not God. Only God is holy, only God lacks the capacity for sin (both logically and morally). The moment something other than God came into existence, the potentiality for sin appeared. Why, then? Why did God still create? The only answer I can find in Scripture–a clear one–is that the benefit of God carrying out his plan so far outweighed the cost of evil existing that He went forward with his plan full-bore. God obviously “counted the cost” before building his reality-history-tower. The unfathomable and unceasing display and communication to us of his glory, majesty, holiness, beauty, love, joy, justice–is infinitely more good than the temporary existence of evil is bad. The former doesn’t just outweigh the latter, it breaks the scale altogether–there should be no question. So, God allowed/allows that sin “happen.” Does that mean that he somehow sinned (or sins)? That is, is it even possible for God to sin?

Absolutely not–for (at least) two reasons: logically, and morally. First, how can the Law itself be unlawful? Only if there is some higher law used as a criterion against which to compare the subordinate law. But God is the ultimate authority; He is, in himself, the very standard of right, wrong, righteousness, sin–what God does defines what is good. What He loves defines what it is good to love and evil to hate, and what He hates defines what is good to hate and evil to love. There is no other, higher authority of righteousness to which he may be held accountable–especially not our own formulations. He is under nothing because he is over everything. He is the law both in heaven, and on earth. It is in the Kingdom of God as it is in any Monarchical Kingdom: REX LEX (the King is the Law). This really rules out the need for any other argument, but also cannot sin–even if there were some other standard of good–because God is infinitely good and holy. He can’t sin because he won’t; even if he had the capacity, he could never have the willingness.

So we have the capacity for sin not because God “tainted the mix” with some potential for good and some potential for evil. Not because God “created evil.” The potential for either good or evil came as a necessary consequence of there coming into existence something not God. But what about when we’re glorified, in heaven - will we still have the capacity for sin? I think, for the reasons above, that we will have the capacity for sin, but we won’t sin. How can that be? Well, we always choose what we want most: and there, when our wants are perfect–permanently–we will perfectly–and permanently–both want and choose what is right and good in the sight of God. We will be fully restored to his image. We will be more than restored to an Edenic, prelapsarian (i.e., unfallen), state: we will be glorified! Sanctified! Holy as he holy! Oh, what a day that will be! –no more war against sin within and without, no more struggle to persevere, no more misery–no more unmatched longings to look upon God! Christ, the object of all our faith shall be the object of all our sight! But even then, we will not be God. So yes, I think we will have the capacity for sin because 1) the standard for what is sin will still be outside of us and 2) we will not become God who alone cannot sin (both because he will not, and because he is himself the moral standard)–but we will not sin because we shall be forever perfected in our desires.

Last point under this head: what about Christ? Could he sin? Did he have the capacity for sin? Before the incarnation, absolutely not–again, for the reasons enumerated above. There should be no question about that. But what about after the incarnation? I think it’s the same with him on earth, as it will be with us in heaven (though he was not yet fully glorified, as we shall be): because Jesus is both Creator and (in a real sense) creation, both God and man, there did exist the capacity for sin. Else what force does that verse have: “he was tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin.” He did not sin because he was not of Adam, and because he had the Holy Spirit to sustain and empower him–perfectly–throughout his earthly ministry. There was the capacity (if you divorce capacity from willingness), but there was not the desire. He was unfallen, “doing always that which pleases the Father,” and he had the Holy Spirit to enable him during his trials and temptations. So (I think) he had the capacity to sin, but nowhere near the willingness.

So that’s my stab at a few of the questions that came up today. See a gaping hole? Something not look right? Help me out and mention it - I always welcome a good iron-sharpening…

Gold Fishes. Finally, randomly, and potentially a bit too confessionally, there was a tragically beautiful young woman in church this morning. Tragic, I say, because her stunning beauty was matched only by her seeming lack of interest in being there–which, shamefully, I noticed despite all my efforts to not notice anything more about her beyond the initial “notice.” Since that moment, a few lines from Thomas Gray’s poem, On a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes, have (by grace!) been running through my mind. I would much rather you read the poem in its entirety to get the full effect of its conclusion (much like the way one should experience Beethoven’s 9th), but here are the lines in case you have miles of blogs to read before you sleep:

From hence, ye Beauties, undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand’ring eyes
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters, gold.

A silly poem laced with profound, soul-saving wisdom.

Well, so much for my disconnected string of random thoughts. Thanks for dropping by.