In The Nick of Time

Like a traitor, scorning justice,
Head unbowed before God’s Law,
Given glimpses of the Holy,
Tyranny was all I saw.

Soul infused with serpents’ venom,
Purposing unholy war,
Hands devising clever mischief,
All of this was I, and more.

He, dispensing awful justice
Haled me up before His throne,
Bound on me the grave indictment
Of commandments hewn in stone.

“Answer now,” the judge demanded,
“Justify yourself to me.
Saints and angels wait your answer—
Enter your judicial plea.”

I, exposed by blinding justice,
Naked in its righteous glare,
Stripped of every self-deception,
Stood with nothing to declare.

During my years of teaching at Pillsbury Baptist Bible College (1978-1985), I was asked to teach several courses in the area of counseling. I had never had a counseling course in college or seminary. Where would I begin? What resources were available to help construct meaningful courses in various aspects of counseling?

I had come out of seminary convinced of the doctrine of the sole authority of Scripture. I knew that without such an authority, nothing was worth preaching. I spent the first ten years of my ministry anchored to this important truth. There was no doubt in my mind but that the Bible had all the answers for life and living.

Nevertheless, as I planned my courses I began to question the degree to which the Bible actually spoke to this issue. Distracted by the cacophony of voices coming from the psychological world, I found myself being drawn toward some of the more popular psychological systems—especially that of Maslow. It seemed to me that there was at least some validity to what he and other secular psychologists were saying.

Given my earlier commitments, why was I so easily convinced that another resource would give better answers than the Bible? Why have so many other pastors and theologians been so easily persuaded that the perspectives of psychology actually give true answers to the difficult questions of the soul of man?

Part of what motivated me was a striving to become knowledgeable in my field of study and experience. The academic world pushes intellectual mastery, and to stay “alive,” one has to excel. I saw what happened to those who did not excel intellectually, and I was not interested in that!

The year was 1986. I was about a year into my first senior pastorate, preaching to a church with a membership that was pushing 200. After a year in this ministry, I was experiencing frustration from two sources.

First, I was wondering why my college and seminary had not taught me more about what the real pastorate would be like. I felt that I had been poorly trained to face many of the actual situations that present themselves in ministry. Second, while I had grown up in one of the more balanced versions of fundamentalism, I had reason to question the model of leadership that I saw employed by many Fundamentalists. On the one hand, these leaders could be authoritarian to the point of brutality. On the other hand, they seemed preoccupied with trivial questions to which they gave answers that were either irrelevant or simply silly.

For instance, one of my earliest written pieces was a response to someone who was trying to impose the “no pants on women” theory on our church. I regarded Fundamentalist speculations about music as simply pathetic. In fact, the typical answers to the whole orbit of “cultural taboos” (as they were sometimes called) struck me as vacuous. The case that some Fundamentalists made for their version of separation was utterly unimpressive.

To be sure, there were still Fundamentalist figures whom I admired both for their leadership and for their thoughtfulness. The number of these, however, was declining. I had begun to look for other answers than I had been given and other models than I had received. In short, I was on the brink of a crisis.

The press is full of reports about Baptist missionaries who have been arrested in Haiti. They are accused of—and, as of yesterday, formally charged with—attempting to abduct children illegally into the neighboring Dominican Republic, ostensibly with the purpose of eventually selling the children into adoption. The missionaries have been moved from lodging in a public building and sent to jail. Jail in Haiti. Jail in a Haiti that has been decimated by earthquakes.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, and Part 6

The Fundamentals

Before Fundamentalism became identifiable as a self-aware movement, American evangelicalism passed through a period of transition that could be labeled proto-fundamentalism. Stretching from just after 1870 until nearly 1920, the proto-fundamentalist period combined a number of important influences. Several of those influences found expression in what may be the most typical representation of the proto-fundamentalist decades, a series of volumes called The Fundamentals.

Eventually The Fundamentals comprised ninety essays in twelve volumes. The project was financed by Lyman and Milton Stewart, founders of Union Oil. The original editor was A. C. Dixon, who was later succeeded by Louis Meyer and then by R. A. Torrey. Initially published between 1910 and 1915, the books were sent free of charge to pastors, missionaries, and Christian workers. They are still being reprinted and read a century later.

The essays in The Fundamentals covered a variety of topics. The most frequent topic—more than a quarter of the articles—had to do with the doctrine of Scripture. Especially emphasized were issues related to inspiration and biblical criticism.

A second large bloc of essays dealt with the person and work of Christ. Several more covered issues in apologetics such as evolution or the existence of God. A handful of essays addressed current “isms” such as Romanism and Christian Science. The remainder consisted of personal testimonies, exhortations to Christian service, and studies in ministry methods.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.

Liberalism

After the Civil War, American evangelicalism entered a period of change. Developments occurred in the areas of eschatology, evangelism, missions, education, and personal piety. From about 1870 to about 1920, evangelicals were building an entire infrastructure of churches, schools, conferences, missions, and other institutions. It is this network that constituted what, in retrospect, can be called proto-fundamentalism.

One very significant influence upon proto-fundamentalism was the rise of theological liberalism. The proto-fundamentalist period occurred during just those decades when modernist and liberal theologies (I will not distinguish the two) were working themselves into the denominational structures. Proto-fundamentalists were forced to deal with the initial manifestations of the new theology.

Liberal theology originated with F. D. E. Schleiermacher, who realized that the cultured and educated people of his day almost universally despised Christianity. What Schleiermacher tried to do was to relocate the center of Christian faith from the Bible and doctrine to religious experience. Doctrines and Scripture were no longer viewed as authoritative statements about external realities but as varied expressions of a common inward experience.

God was thought to be entirely immanent, both in the created order and within historical process. Since all humans somehow participated in the divine, liberals had no trouble speaking of the divinity of Jesus. One liberal, accused of denying the divinity of Christ, responded, “I have never denied the divinity of anyone.” What the liberals could not do, however, was to affirm that Jesus Christ is God in any unique sense.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

Personal Piety

Historical periodization is a subjective business. People do not just go to sleep in one period and wake up in another. Usually they do not even realize that a significant change has occurred except in retrospect. For historians to impose periods upon history is necessarily subjective and somewhat arbitrary.

Nevertheless, since history is linear and progressive, it is possible to trace development. The movement from one period to the next does result in change. Examining the record, a historian can detect these changes and can discern when some significant transition has taken place.

In the history of American Fundamentalism, the years from about 1870 to about 1920 seem to comprise a distinct period. During this period, Fundamentalism was not yet a discernable, self-aware movement. All the same, changes were taking place across American evangelicalism, and these changes strongly shaped Fundamentalism when it emerged in 1920.

In previous essays, I have posited that this proto-fundamentalist period was characterized by eschatological fascination, evangelistic fervor, and an emphasis upon worldwide missions. Secondary characteristics included a minimizing of denominationalism, the growth of the faith missions movement, and the development of the Bible institute as an important venue for proto-fundamentalist education. These influences, however, are only part of the story.

Another major influence during this period was a resurgence of personal piety. This resurgence was necessary because American Christians—indeed, American society—had become preoccupied with personal comfort and affluence. This was the gilded age, and businessmen were riding the crest of the second industrial revolution to amass fortunes. These individuals may have been a small minority, but they captured the imagination of the country and established an ethos that governed much of American culture.

Bible colleges are being pinched these days. Many collegians are choosing to remain at home and attend community colleges. Others are opting for state universities. Of those who go off to Christian schools, a higher percentage than ever are choosing liberal arts colleges. The focus of ministerial training has shifted away from colleges and toward seminaries.

The question is being asked: Do Bible colleges still have a place? If they do, then what shape should they take?

Some Bible colleges are responding to this question by increasing their offerings in fields that are further and further from biblical education. They are offering programs in education, aviation, nursing, business, and a variety of other disciplines. To the extent that Bible colleges have pursued this strategy, they have begun to metamorphose into liberal arts colleges. Their approach seems to entail the recognition that the true Bible college has outlived its usefulness.

I disagree. I believe that the Bible college can and should still occupy an important role as a service organization to local churches. In order to be genuinely useful, however, Bible colleges are going to have to clarify what sort of education they intend to offer. They are going to have to present a viable alternative, not only to Christian liberal arts colleges and universities, but also to secular institutions.

Most obviously, Bible colleges must play to their strength, and that strength is biblical instruction. It goes without saying that good biblical instruction is (almost?) completely absent from secular institutions. More relevantly, Christian universities and Christian liberal arts colleges generally do teach the Bible with less excellence than the better Bible colleges. Christian education has to involve more than tacking a few Bible survey courses onto a degree in broadcasting or physical therapy. It has to involve the intensive, concentrated study of the Bible itself.

Leo Steinberg, writing for Harper’s Magazine in March of 1984, offered a series of fascinating observations about Domenico Ghirlandaio’s The Adoration of the Magi. The work depicts the Christ child, held by the Virgin, being examined by the wise men. They are gazing in rapt astonishment at the undraped Christ. What Steinberg points out—and what is obvious once noticed—is that the gaze of the Magi is directed toward the child’s genitalia.

Ghirlandaio’s painting is anything but unique. Botticelli conceals the child’s genitals from the viewer and permits him to be examined only by one Magus, but the object of the wise man’s gaze is still obvious. Filippino Lippi has the child partially exposed to the viewer as well as to the Magi. Paolo Veronese shows the virgin lifting aside the child’s wrap and presenting him nether-end first to an amazed Magus. In Pieter Aertsen’s rendition, the Christ, hand raised in a gesture of blessing, is fully exposed to the viewer while a basket of folded diapers sits by Mary’s side. Sebastiano Ricci chooses the moment immediately following the inspection: Mary is replacing the cover over the child, while the aged Magus still peers so closely that the Christ places a hand upon his head.

To be sure, not all paintings of the Magi portray the scene in the same way. Some show the Magi presenting their gifts to the child. Others show one Magus kissing the Savior’s foot. Yet others simply depict the Magi in some other act of obeisance. Nevertheless, enough of these paintings (certainly more than I have listed) show the wise men gazing at the baby’s genitals that there can be no mistake—these artists had a lesson they wanted to emphasize.

As a matter of fact, their point is a doctrinal one. Their paintings constitute a theological reflection on the nature and significance of the incarnation. They are telling us something about who the Christ is and what He does.

Christmas is all about the incarnation. By the incarnation we mean that the second person of the Godhead, without ceasing to be God, adds to His Deity a complete human nature. He takes humanity into Himself in such a way that His person is not divided, but also in such a way that the natures are never confounded or converted. The incarnation tells us who Christ is.