By now, there is no way you have missed the controversy about Rob Bell's new book, Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. The internet nearly exploded on Saturday when Justin Taylor posted a rather unhelpful piece essentially declaring Bell to be apostate for rejecting the idea of hell and embracing universalism. Taylor wisely amended his post soon afterward and noted that he had made his judgments without actually reading the book. Nonetheless, folks all over took Taylor's post to be the truth, and immediately proceeded to toss Bell aside as a heretic.

My knowledge of Bell's theology is limited, but I know that he has been a controversial figure for quite some time. Robin, my wife, is from Grand Rapids, and during the time we were dating we went to Bell's church a couple of times, although for all the ink spilled about his bad theology, I never heard him say anything overtly unbiblical. Nonetheless, I was not surprised to see his name dragged through the mud again for his views on how God deals with those who reject him.

I was not surprised, but I was very disappointed. We always need to have an enemy, it seems, and Rob Bell made the perfect target this weekend. And so without having read his book or interacted with him on the issue at hand, people all over set to judging him and condemning what they think they knew of his theology.

Eugene Peterson, in Practice Resurrection, spends a few pages discussing Martin Buber's book, I and Thou. Buber puts forth the theory that there are three ways humans typically approach their relationships with others: I-It, which objectifies the other in the relationship; Us-Them, which divides every relationship into good and bad; and I-You, which recognises the personality and humanity of each person in the relationship. Having the Bell controversy on my mind as I read this, I was struck by how often evangelicals view everything through the lens of Us-Them. Peterson summarises Buber's second category like this:

Us-Them: the world is divided into two, the children of light and the children of darkness. This is a very convenient way to think about the world because whatever is wrong, it's obviously because of 'them.' Complexities vanish. Everything is suddenly tidy. There are goats and sheep, and the sheep by the very nature of things will triumph – didn't Jesus say so? Us-Them has always attracted demagogues, and the demagogues have attracted great crowds. This in effect demonizes everyone who doesn't think or feel along the lines of Us... Us-Them turns others into the enemy.

I am not here to defend Bell's theology or to offer an apology for his book. And if you do a quick Google search, you will find lots of helpful (and not so helpful) responses already written about what happened this weekend. But the whole controversy brings to light again the need for Christians to stop glorying in ugly theological battles, especially when our understanding of the theology we are opposing is based on speculation.

John Frame, one my seminary professors, had such wisdom and humility in how he dealt with the thought of others, particularly those he disagreed with. I learned a great deal from him about this. We have a responsibility to have a thorough understanding of the thinking of those we disagree with before we set out to critique them. And when we do, Ephesians 4 is instructive, because our critique of the theology of others is not to tear them down, but to build them – and the whole body of Christ – up. So we must speak the truth in love (Eph. 4:15). What's more, we simply cannot be so casual when it comes to throwing around accusations of a false gospel. To be sure, we have a responsibility to carefully evaluate the teaching of others, and sometimes there will be a need to be frank and honest about someone teaching a false gospel. But to label someone apostate is a major charge, one that has immense implications. We are wise to use this label very sparingly. 

Needless to say, this was largely absent from the internet discussions over the weekend. It is a lot easier to label someone apostate than to take the time to interact with their thought. But this hardly serves to build up the body of Christ.

I don't know what Rob Bell thinks about hell or universalism or how God deals with those who reject him. If the promotional video that caused so much of a stir is accurate, then there are some major theological issues that need to be addressed. But writing off Bell as a heretic or bidding him farewell should not be our first reaction. We need to carefully evaluate Bell's theology, interact with him about these issues, and speak the truth in love. Don't revel in division and controversy. Seek the unity and peace of Christ's church.

R. Scott Clark, a professor at Westminster Seminary in California, wrote a book recently called Recovering the Reformed Confession: Our Theology, Piety, and Practice. The premise of the book is that the Reformed community is losing or has lost its sense of identity, and that it needs to recover it. Clark writes, "Much of what passes as Reformed among our churches is not. Its sources, spirit, and methods are alien to Reformed theology, piety, and practice. There are significant segments within the Reformed communion that define 'Reformed' in ways that our forefathers would not understand" (4).

Earlier today, John Frame posted a review of the book on his website. Someone apparently told Frame that the book should instead be called, Why John Frame is Wrong About Absolutely Everything. While that is humorous, it recognizes that there is a tension between Clark's and Frame's ideas of being Reformed, and that Clark is, in part, taking Frame to task in the book. If you're going to read the review, be sure to sit back in a comfortable chair—it is very long.

I haven't read Clark's book, and I won't if his writing in the book is anything like his blog (which I've had to stop reading because I have to keep my blood pressure under control). The problem with guys like Clark is that while they sometimes raise good questions—and I think the points in his book are largely worth discussing—they do it without humility and grace. Frame has taken to calling contentious voices like this the "Reformed Controversialists," and for good reason. More time seems to be spent on tearing others down than on constructively working through the issues at hand. It is unfortunate, because they could bring a lot of good questions to the table, and their voices could contribute a lot more to the building up of the Church.

In Ephesians 4, Paul talks about the need to speak the truth in love to preserve the unity of the body of Christ. As I've mentioned before, there is a reason that they honoured Frame by titling his festschrift with those words. All of us who have been privileged and blessed to study under him will tell you that there are few men who are willing to interact with those they disagree with as lovingly and graciously as Frame does. He has been a wonderful role model for us and for the Church. Jude 3 says that we must "contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints," something Frame devotes himself to. And he does it recognizing that, like Paul in 1 Corinthians 13, if he has not love, he has nothing.

I'll be the first to admit that our traditions are important, and that we cannot live in a historical vacuum, ignorant of where we came from and who we are. These are good things to talk about, and I think Clark is right to raise questions about our Reformed identity. But resorting to a sort of hostile polemic to argue a case and misrepresenting those who hold views you don't agree with is not helpful; indeed, it's harmful and destructive to the Church (again I must acknowledged that I haven't read the book, but have spent quite a lot of time reading Clark's blog). Maybe this is the reason large segments of the Reformed community don't want to be identified with that small (albeit disproportinately vocal) segment of the Reformed community.

Read Frame's review if you want his take on the nuances of Clark's argument. All I want to emphasize is that when we interact with others who don't share our perspectives, we must do it with love and charity. We do so because of our love for God, because of our love for our neighbour, and because of our love for the Church. Granted, this is a lot harder than just lobbing grenades at your opponents. But it is required of us, and doesn't leave a trail of destruction in our wake; instead, it leaves a Church that is strengthened, edified, and brought closer to the unity Christ calls us to.

By all means, raise questions, provoke thought, discuss issues. But do so in love.

I really like how John Frame, in his The Doctrine of the Christian Life, calls Deuteronomy 6:6-9 the "great charter of Christian education." The verses read:

And these words that I command to you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, an they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.

The point here—and one that is pervasive throughout Scripture—is that the Word of God is to give shape to our whole lives and our whole being. That, too, is to be the focus of Christian education. And that is why education is something more than just the imparting of objective knowledge. Education is formation.

There is a reason that the festschrift recently published in honour of John Frame is titled Speaking the Truth in Love—it is because there are few who deal with the thought of others in such a gracious and humble manner, even when they fundamentally disagree. The reference comes from Ephesians 4:15, where Paul is encouraging the Christians in Ephesus to seek the unity of the Church. It has been an incredible blessing to be able to study under Dr. Frame in my time here at Reformed Theological Seminary and to follow him for these last few years as he works tirelessly to bring that unity to fruition, especially through his writings. Without a doubt his thinking constitutes one of the most formative influences in my own thought.

I have been taking the course on Pastoral and Social Ethics that Frame teaches over the past few months, and I finished working through the lectures this afternoon. Toward the very end of his lecture on the ninth commandment of the Decalogue, Frame had a few things to say about how we interact with the thought of others, especially in the internet age. The ability of anyone to publish anything online these days with little to no accountability makes it easy for people to slander and malign others, and to misrepresent and distort their thought so as to make them appear heretical. Frame has frequently been the victim of this sort of thing and he makes a plea to those who have blogs to interact with others in love and seek to build each other up. Here is a short clip from the lecture:

I thought it was amusing that Frame used the label "Reformed Controversialists." He's referring to that disproportionately vocal and hyper-critical group of Reformed bloggers who do nothing but tear down those they disagree with. You would know right away when you've landed on one of their sites and for the sake of your health, it's best just to hit the back button.

Our responsibility as Christians is to build each other up and seek unity. If our interaction lacks either of these characteristics, then we need to step back and examine ourselves. For without these, we do great harm to the body of Christ.

John Frame is frequently accused of being a bad confessionalist. In fact, there are some who even want to deny him the right to use the label altogether, although given its largely negative connotation these days he likely wouldn't think it worth the effort to object. The introduction to his latest book, The Doctrine of the Christian Life, contains a brief discussion regarding his approach to doctrinal formulation, which seems to directly address the concerns of the aforementioned parties.

His 2002 book, The Doctrine of God (commonly referred to as DG), was the referent for the discussion. Some felt he did an injustice to the Reformed confessions by not establishing thorough enough historical support (that is, citing or employing the formulations of the confessions) in giving shape to the theology contained in the book. Frame's response, in his own words, is as follows:

My purpose in writing DG was not simply, or even primarily, to expound the doctrines, but mainly to establish their foundation, to persuade readers that they are true. DG is an argumentative book. Ultimately, for those who believe in sola Scriptura, the only way to establish the truth of doctrines is to appeal to Scripture. It might have been helpful for me to include more historical material to help people understand the doctrines better, to understand why they have been formulated as they have been. But I cannot think of a single instance where additional historical citations would have made my presentation of those doctrines more persuasive.

Given sola Scriptura...even when a theologian does cite historical sources, including confessions, it is then necessary to go back to Scripture to establish the truth of what those sources say. The main value of the confessions, then, is to mediate the biblical teaching. But is it too much to ask that in an 888-page book I might occasionally bypass the middle man?

What I find paradoxical about all this is that what brings Frame under fire from the self-titled confessionalists is precisely why Frame is actually an exemplar of good confessionalism. His theology is first and foremost rooted in Scripture, and all doctrinal formulations remain subject to that ultimate authority. This is exactly what the Reformers and post-Reformation leaders intended when they drafted the confessions.

With respect to what he said above, then, we see that from Frame's perspective a doctrine can only be shown to be true when it's Scriptural foundation is demonstrated. Mere exposition of what the confessional documents teach is insufficient for validating the truth of a certain doctrine. Naturally, insofar as the confessions reflect what is established from Scripture, they too can be upheld as truthfully reflecting the teaching of the Bible. But it is what is taught in the Word of God that necessarily forms the groundwork for any doctrine and theology.

In a footnote appended to the last paragraph cited above, Frame says,

A former colleague has described this procedure, not favorably, as 'zero-based budgeting.' If that is a fault, I plead guilty. Zero-based budgeting in theology is a good thing, a necessary consequence of sola Scriptura. I am thankful to Luther and Calvin that they did not merely assume the truth of their traditions, but brought them under the scrutiny of Scripture. They were zero-based budgeters with a vengeance.

Frame's love and appreciation for the Reformed tradition and its creeds and confessions cannot be questioned. Even greater, however, is his love for the Word of God. He recognizes an important place for the Church's creeds and confessions, one that I think would reflect Abraham Kuyper's perspective regarding the role of tradition in theology. On the one hand we recognize that confessional documents are, by their nature, vested with a degree of objective authority. Determining exactly what degree of authority is something we need to wrestle with. Some err on the side of treating them as nearly infallible documents, while others give them no credence whatsoever.

In the end, Frame's mediating position represents the healthiest form of confessionalism. He highly respects these documents while contending that they must always remain subject to the authority of Scripture. This high respect is verified—and this is important to note—by the fact that after decades of doing theology, Frame has taken exception to very little of what is in the confessions (in this context, the Westminster Standards). If this makes Frame a bad confessionalist, then I am not sure what makes a good one.

And so, in appropriating the Church's creeds and confessions, I gladly take my cue from Frame. If that makes me a bad confessionalist too, so be it.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones made his first trip to North America in June of 1932, spending most of his nine-week trip in Toronto. While he had been invited to preach for nine Sundays at a Presbyterian Church, T. T. Shields, the pastor of Jarvis Street Baptist Church, asked to meet with him once. Shields was known for frequently engaging in polemical attacks against liberal theologians, and wondered if Lloyd-Jones did the same. From the first volume of Iain Murray's biography of Lloyd-Jones, here is a record of their conversation.

Shields came to fetch me and we had lunch. We talked on general subjects and then we went to sit in the garden. There, as we drank coffee, he suddenly turned to me and said, 'Are you a great reader of Joseph Parker?' I replied, 'No, I am not.' 'Why?' he asked. 'I get nothing from him.' 'Man!' he said, 'what's the matter with you?' 'Well,' I said, 'it's all very well to make these criticisms of the liberals but he doesn't help me spiritually.' 'Surely you are helped by the way he makes mincemeat of the liberals?' 'No, I am not,' I responded. 'You can make mincemeat of the liberals and still be in trouble in your own soul.' 'Well,' Shields said, 'I read Joseph Parker every Sunday morning. He winds me up—puts me right.' I felt my opening had come, so we began. We had a great debate. He was a very able man and we argued the issue about which I disagreed with him. In defence of his attitude he said, 'Do you know, every time I indulge in what you call one of these "dog-fights" the sales of the Gospel Witness go right up. What about that?' 'Well,' I replied, 'I have always observed that if there is a dog-fight a crowd gathers, I'm not at all surprised. People like that sort of thing.' Then he brought up another argument. He said, 'Now, you are a doctor and you are confronted by a patient who has got cancer. You know that if that cancer is not removed it is going to kill the patient. You don't want to operate but you have to do so because it is going to save the patient's life. That is my position. I don't want to be doing this kind of thing, but there is this cancer and it has got to be removed. What do you say to that?' I responded, 'What I say to that is this: I am a physician but there is such a thing as "a surgical mentality", or of becoming what is described as "knife-happy". I agree, there are some cases where you have got to operate, but the danger of the surgeon is to operate immediately. He thinks in terms of operating. Never have an operation without having a second opinion from a physician.'

At this point Shields got up, walked down the garden and then came back to re-open the conversation: 'Well,' he queried, 'what about this: you remember Paul in Galatians 2? He had to withstand Peter to the face. He did not want to do it. Peter was an older apostle, a leader and so on. Paul did it very reluctantly, but he had to do it for the sake of the truth. I am in exactly that position. What do you say to that?' 'I would say this,' I responded, 'that the effect of what Paul did was to win Peter round to his position and make him call him "our beloved brother Paul". Can you say the same about the people whom you attack?' Shields was finished...[and] I made a great appeal to him. I said, 'Dr. Shields, you used to be known as the Canadian Spurgeon...[but] you suddenly changed and became negatory and denunciatory. I feel it has ruined your ministry. Why don't you come back! Drop all this, preach the gospel to people positively and win them!' (272-273).

Sadly, polemical figures like Dr. Shields remain in the Church today, and not just in the Reformed camp (though they often seem to be especially vocal there). Time spent berating others for having different emphases on secondary or even tertiary points of doctrine will ruin our ministry, as Lloyd-Jones says. There is room for discussion on these matters, to be sure, but when they become the focus of polemical rants, we have lost sight of what is most urgent. The parable of the weeds in Matthew 13:24-30 serves as a helpful reminder, I think.

I am studying theology because I believe there is a right way of understanding the biblical revelation, but not because I want ammunition with which to attack other Christians. I'm doing so because I believe, to use John Frame's definition, that theology is the application of God's Word to all of life. I want to see people come to know Jesus Christ and to help them learn what it means to live for Him as Lord. If my focus shifts from this primary calling, I believe I have become unfaithful to the task Christ called His people to before He ascended into heaven (Matt. 28:16-20).

Jesus said it best: "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few" (Matt. 9:37). The need is urgent, and the time is short.

Since I have been posting more frequently in the past couple of months on worldview and theology and how the two are interrelated, I wanted to take some time and write a few posts fleshing out why I think theology is important. Instead of one massive post, I am going to do a short series of three or four posts on this topic.

When I was younger, my grandmother gave me a copy of R.C. Sproul's book, Essential Truths of the Christian Faith. The very first line of the preface reads, "Every Christian is a theologian." Immediately it occurred to me how simple of a fact this was. I have remembered that line especially when I come across those who denounce theology as a waste of time or as an intellectual pursuit that just divides us and takes us away from the heart of Christianity.

It is not just because I am studying theology in seminary or because I enjoy reading and learning about it that I find it important. Instead, I think that its importance lies in the way it informs our life, our faith, and our worldview. Sproul, in my opinion, has it right when he says, "Sound theology...is a requisite for godly living. How can we do the truth without first understanding what the truth is? No Christian can avoid theology. Every Christian has a theology." The old maxim is absolutely true—orthodoxy begets orthopraxy.¹

Back in September I mentioned John Frame's conception of theology, his basic definition being, "theology is the application of God's Word by persons to all areas of life." For Frame, theology is the task of taking the truth of Scripture and helping people see how that truth applies to all of life. This, of course, makes it very plain that theology is not restricted to intellectuals and academics, but is an activity necessarily engaged in by every Christian. Everything that we think, say, and do is influenced and colored by the beliefs and convictions we hold. Our theology does not influence just our thinking about God or the Church, but also how we think about business, politics, sports, and how we use our time. Because Christ is Lord and sovereign over all of life, every part of our life is subject to theological reflection as we work to bring it into conformity with His will.

If you understand theology in this way, then it follows that everything we think, say, and do is by extension the act of taking a doctrinal standpoint. Our practice is a reflection of our understanding. Also, if we are conscious of this, we subsequently become conscious of the great deal of hypocrisy that characterizes our lives. It becomes clear at this point why theology is important. Living rightly only becomes possible when we believe rightly. As we come to a deeper understanding of Scripture, our lives become molded to the will of God and the character of Christ, equipping us more and more to live as His faithful ambassadors in this world.

¹At the same time, I am well aware of the notion of lex orandi/lex canendi, lex credendi. However, one simply cannot begin to praise without the basic contours of a rudimentary theology, the confession of Jesus as Lord. From that point onward, though, it is true that our engagement in worship will lead us to deeper understanding. Still, this does not excuse us from reflection on Scripture and theology.

John Frame says the following in the introduction to his book, Apologetics to the Glory of God:

...the apologist must 'set apart Jesus as Lord'...[and] his argument must presuppose that lordship. Our argument must be an exhibit of that knowledge, that wisdom, which is based on the 'fear of the Lord,' not an exhibition of unbelieving foolishness. Therefore, apologetic argument is no more neutral than any other human activity. In apologetic argument, as in anything else we do, we must presuppose the truth of God's Word. We either accept God's authority or we do not, and not to do so is sin. It doesn't matter that we sometimes find ourselves conversing with non-Christians. Then too—perhaps especially then (for then we are bearing witness)—we must be faithful to our Lord's revelation.

To tell the unbeliever that we can reason with him on a neutral basis, however that claim might help attract his attention, is a lie. Indeed, it is a lie of the most serious kind, for it falsifies the very heart of the gospel—that Jesus Christ is Lord. For one thing, there is no neutrality. Our witness is either God's wisdom or the world's foolishness. There is nothing in between. For another thing, even if neutrality were possible, that route would be forbidden to us.

Frame's conviction in this matter is apparent in his writings, and I have been privileged to witness that conviction in his teaching as well. This understanding functions as the basis from which our apologetic must begin. There simply is no other way.