Regarding Race

This post is prompted by an article that I saw posted a little while back regarding mixed marriages.  I gave it some time to ruminate, and after much thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is my firm belief that one should indeed marry only within his or her own race.  Now, before you start picking up stones to throw at me, please read on and see if you agree.

It is fashionable today to say that “there is only one race—the human race.”  Things like ethnicity, culture, faith, etc. do not matter.  What matters is one common humanity.  After all, our DNA is pretty much 100% identical no matter what ethnicity you are.  The accidentals like dark or light skin are just that.  Accidentals with no meaning beyond aesthetics.

In a biological sense that’s true.  All mankind does share the same basic physical makeup.  And if physicality was all there was, they would be right—there is only one race, the human race.  But that doesn’t tell the whole story.

On the other hand, we have the reaction against these modern views of anthropology.  There are some who believe that ethnic groups constitute race, and that these races ought to remain distinct and separate.  As such, there should be no marriage or mixing between the various ethnic groups.  Some even appeal to the Bible for such a position (yes, the article I saw was from this site).  After all, God divided the peoples into many tongues at Babel, and thus created ethnicity.  Who are we to try to reverse that?  That would be like trying to rebuild the tower of Babel.

I would propose what I believe is a more Biblical view—that there are only two races.  There is Adam’s old humanity which fell with him into sin and death, and there is the new humanity in Christ that is raised to life and righteousness.  For in Christ there is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free.  All are one.  In Adam all die, but in Christ are all made alive.

To be in Christ is to be not only a new person as an individual, but a member of a new humanity, born of water and Spirit.  The old man and the former race is no more.  For the believer is a part of that New Creation.

As for Babel, that was a curse upon the old Adamic race.  God reversed that curse at Pentecost, when the confused languages of the many peoples became no impediment to the spread of the Gospel.  The scattering of nations is finished for all united in the Church as the Bride of Christ.  Any attempt at a united humanity apart from Christ as the old Adamic man is indeed a rebuilding of Babel.  Because only in Christ can true legitimate unity be found.

And so, I say again, one must not be joined to another outside of one’s own race.  If you are a member of the new humanity in Christ, how can you even think of being united to one of Adam’s lost race?  And if that person from across the Pacific is your brother, how can you even think of him as a foreigner to you?

A Blogger’s Credo

A really good question was asked of me recently: “Why do you write?”  What’s the point? Why spend hours piecing together thoughts and arguments? What am I trying to prove?

These are good questions for every blogger to ask of him/her self. Is blogging the 21st century way of yelling in the Roman forum? Trying to vie for attention?  Everyone seems to have a thing to say. Some little gem that he thinks he needs to share with the world. And you know what?  That’s fine.  God works in peoples’ lives and hearts and minds, and it’s a wonderful thing to share with the world.

But many times blogging becomes a way of showing off the gem for our own aggrandizement, even if the supposed prize happens to actually be a chunk of fools gold. I suppose it’s a tendency I have as well, and I need to watch myself.

So I’m outlining a sort of blogger’s credo (though not technically a credo, which means “I believe”).  Specifically for those of us who write about the Bible and theology.  And for people who don’t have blogs but take part in forum discussions, I think this is equally valid.

1. I will write first to glorify God.  If this is lacking, then what is the point?  Theology is the study of God, His revelation, and work of Providence.  If we study this for any reason other than to glorify the name of Him who reveals Himself, then we are deceiving ourselves and wasting our time at best.
2. I will write to edify the brethren.  If I am writing for any other reason then it’s just a self-indulgent exercise.  This should also make me think twice about what I post.  If I write something that is completely correct in an academic sense but has no purpose for edification and building up of the Church, I should not post it.
3. I will not write dogmatically about something I have not personally studied at length.  The dogmatically thing is to allow for asking questions on a blog.  Posts to the effect of, “I’ve been studying such and such passage, and it got me thinking . . .”  I think are okay, as long as they really are what they appear to be.
4. I will write with a spirit of humility.  So I’ve studied a passage enough to sort of know the issues.  But I’m building on the work of the great men who went before me.  Little of what I have to say is original, and if it is totally original, then that is probably because it is wrong.  We bloggers must be open to correction and criticism.
5. I will discuss in a spirit of charity and Christian love.  Excepting the first point, I think this is the most important.  Of course, it’s tied to glorifying God, for if the people of God begin to get at each other’s throats over minor interpretive scruples, then what testimony is that to the world?  No one is going to be impressed with our theological boxing matches.  Let it not be said that the name of God is blasphemed among the nations because of us.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now.  Any one who passes by here and reads this can hold me to it.  And I think I’m going to take a little break from blogging for a little while.  At least from theology.  I need a little breather.

1 Corinthians 13:1-2
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

Anamnesis: “Make Present,” or just “Remember”?

There are basically two ways of translating “anamnesis,” which is the word Christ uses in the institution of the Lord’s Supper when he says “do this in remembrance of me,” or “do this as my memorial.”

They mean basically the same thing, but the emphasis is different.  In any case, tied to the word anamnesis is the issue of remembering.  In a Eucharistic or Old Testament sacrificial context, it is the remembering of what God has done for his people and offering of oneself to him in return.  It is thanksgiving.

But what does it mean to remember?  Is remembrance a mere cognitive exercise, or is there something more to it?  Of course today, when we use the word, we generally mean simply to bring a past event to mind.  But is this a Biblical view of remembrance?

In his milestone work, The Shape of the Liturgy, Dom Gregory Dix modified the Roman Catholic suggestion of re-sacrifice¹ in the Eucharist to something a little less offensive to the Biblical mind.  Or much less so.  He defines remembrance as the act of making present.²

According to Dix, when the church remembers the sacrifice of Christ in the Eucharist, they are recalling it not only to mind, but also to present effect.  Remembrance brings the effects of a past event to bear on the present.  It identifies one directly with those people for whom that past event was a present reality.

Of course, since the popularization of this view, Roman Catholics have been using it to stump their Protestant friends who accuse them of viewing the Eucharist as a re-sacrifice.  “Why, no we don’t!  We believe it is simply a making present of the past sacrifice.”

Well, yeah, that’s true as far as it goes, but that’s only because they changed their tune.  Of course, they still believe it means to make physically present . . . though not locally, and that is where we go down the rabbit trail of medieval categories.

But aside from the dissonance, what about the basic melody of this new tune?  Is it any more pleasant than the last?  Let’s take a look.

First there is the language of how God himself remembers.

Genesis 9:15
I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh. And the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh.

Exodus 2:24
And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob.

There are many other similar examples.  And there is one interesting example that seems to have a very strong relation to God’s presence.

Numbers 10:9
And when you go to war in your land against the adversary who oppresses you, then you shall sound an alarm with the trumpets, that you may be remembered before the LORD your God, and you shall be saved from your enemies.

We should realize by now that Biblically speaking, remembrance is more than a cognitive recollection.  God certainly does not need to be cognitively reminded of his people or covenants.  He knows all, and he does not forget.  We should also note that when God remembers, it is always a catalyst to action.  The remembrance and the resulting action are so inseparable as to be one and the same.

So what about human remembrance?  How does God command us to remember?

Deuteronomy 15:15
You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the LORD your God redeemed you; therefore I command you this today.

Was this command for that generation of the Exodus only?  This is after the forty years wandering in the wilderness.  An entire generation perished because of unbelief.  Most of those to whom Deuteronomy was given never saw slavery in Egypt.  How can they then rightly remember that God delivered them?  This is a question made all the more stark when we consider that the memorial sacrifices and feasts were to be observed by Israel continually.  Was the celebration of Passover by succeeding generations a mere cognitive exercise or was it an act of identification with God’s deliverance?

I read this passage a couple weeks ago, and found it quite interesting.  Pay attention especially to the pronouns.

Deuteronomy 26:3-10
“And you shall go to the priest who is in office at that time and say to him, ‘I declare today to the LORD your God that I have come into the land that the LORD swore to our fathers to give us.’ Then the priest shall take the basket from your hand and set it down before the altar of the LORD your God.

“And you shall make response before the LORD your God, ‘a wandering Aramean was my father. And he went down into Egypt and sojourned there, few in number, and there he became a nation, great, mighty, and populous. And the Egyptians treated us harshly and humiliated us and laid on us hard labor. Then we cried to the LORD, the God of our fathers, and the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. And the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great deeds of terror, with signs and wonders. And he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And behold, now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground, which you, O LORD, have given me.’

Notice how the perspective shifts in the act of remembrance.  The one offering thanksgiving here moves from a sort of separation between himself and his fathers to the point where speaks of himself and his fathers as one identity.  “A wandering Aramean was my father . . . he went down into Egypt” becomes “the Egyptians treated us harshly . . . the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand . . . and gave us this land.”

See how the identity of Israel as a people converge into one identity.  What God did for the fathers he did for the one who offers thanksgiving.  The suffering of the fathers is to be remembered as the suffering of the one who makes sacrifice, so that the deliverance of God might be known for all generations.

How does this apply to us?  Well, if Abraham is our father, we must do the same.  The deliverance of Israel we must recognize as our own.  The word of the prophets called us to repentance.  And finally, Jesus died and rose again for us.  When we celebrate the Lord’s Supper, we make present that reality in the sense that we identify ourselves with the sacrifice of Christ.  In remembrance, the Holy Spirit really (spiritual realities are real no less than the physical) applies to us the effects of the sacrifice.

Benjamin Warfield, in speaking of the Lord’s Supper, wrote this:

Assuredly, for example, the sacrificial feast is not a repetition of the sacrifice; and equally certainly it is something more than a mere commemoration of the sacrifice: it is specifically a part of the sacrifice, and more particularly this part—the application of it. . . . Precisely what our Lord did therefore . . . he, the true Passover, the Lamb of God, that takes away the sin of the world—was to establish a perpetual sacrificial feast, under universal forms, capable of observation everywhere and at all times . . . All who partake of this bread and wine, the appointed symbols of his body and blood, therefore, are symbolically partaking of the victim offered on the altar of the cross, and are by this act professing themselves offerers of the sacrifice and seeking to become beneficiaries of it. That is the fundamental significance of the Lord’s Supper.  Whenever the Lord’s Supper is spread before us we are invited to take our place at the sacrificial feast, the substance of which is the flesh and blood of the victim which has been sacrificed once for all at Calvary . . . ³

So then, with Dix, we might affirm that remembrance is indeed a making present to us the reality of Christ’s one sacrifice, and with Warfield, who it appears would agree with that, we say that it is the application of the sacrifice to the one who partakes.

Anamnesis, then, is the recollection to us the realities of the past in such a way that they may no longer be thought of to be a mere past reality brought to mind, but a present one as well.

There are more things to look at in this.  For instance, how our celebration of the Supper brings us to God’s remembrance, and so into his presence.  I don’t want anyone to think I overlooked that.  Dix deals with this at length, and to properly address Dix, we have to consider that sense of the word.  But this is enough for one post.  I’ll probably look at this again.

Did Paul Teach the Imputation of Christ’s Righteousness?

This is an unavoidable question from my last couple posts on Paul and Romans. Does the apostle Paul teach the Reformed doctrine of imputation?  One might come to the conclusion that I don’t think he does, based on my post on “Perishing Apart from the Law.” And one would be correct.  Sort of.  It’s not so clear-cut as that, since the question is actually asking two things.  So let me lay out clearly what I think, at least at this point.

First, it’s necessary to define the Reformed doctrine of the imputation of the righteousness of Christ.  Here’s how I would define it:

A sinner is justified by God, not because of any merit of his own that might be brought to judgment as righteousness, but only for the sake of the righteousness of Jesus Christ laid to the sinner’s account.  God, as the just judge, when he looks upon a redeemed and believing sinner, sees instead the righteousness of Christ and on that grounds alone justifies.

I think that is a satisfactory definition.  If anyone has anything to add to it, feel free to comment.

So, to our question—or actually, questions, which might have very different answers:

• Does Paul teach this doctrine?
• Does Paul have this doctrine in mind when he uses the word “impute”?

I must answer “yes” to the first question and “no” to the second.  I believe Paul does teach that Christ’s work of righteousness stands in place of our own before God, since we have nothing of our own to offer.  However, I think Paul is talking about something else, something more general when he talks about imputation, especially in Romans 5.  So there is “imputation” in the Reformed sense, and there is “imputation” in the Pauline sense, which I don’t believe are quite the same thing, but nevertheless do not exclude each other.

First the Pauline.  In Romans 5:13 Paul says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  This cannot be in reference either to the accounting of Adam’s sin to fallen mankind, nor to the accounting of Christ’s righteousness to justified man.  It would render the Reformed doctrine nonsensical if there were an entire stretch of generations to which imputation in the Reformed sense does not apply (to say nothing of its implications for the Gentiles, who, Paul appears to be arguing, are under the same paradigm as those generations between Adam and Moses).  Therefore, it must be the imputation of man’s sin to his own account.  I believe this is also the sense in which Psalm 32:1-2 (quoted in Romans 4:7-8) speaks.

For Paul, imputation is not necessarily a transfer of sin or righteousness from one account to the other.  Rather, imputation is the accounting itself of the thing, regardless of where it originally came from.  If your sin is imputed to you, then God holds you especially accountable for what you’ve done.  You are counted as a transgressor.  This is what Paul means when he says that sin is not imputed where there is no law.  Yes, sin persisted during this period, and was strong enough to maintain the associated reign of death.  But sin was not imputed because there was no transgression of stated commandments.¹

In Romans 5:20, the law comes in through Moses so that transgression and resulting guilt might be increased.  That is, with the coming of the law, sin is then imputed, thereby making the sinner accountable under the law.  This is the same situation as the Gentile who was once perishing apart from the law and then learns of the law as a God-fearer (which is, by the way, what I believe Romans 7 is describing).

Similarly, when Paul says in Romans 4:3 that “Abraham believed God and it was imputed to him as righteousness,” we must not insist that “it” refers to the alien righteousness of Christ transferred to Abraham’s account, for the idea is nowhere found in the context.  Rather the picture we get is as if Abraham had faith (given by God through the work of the Spirit) and in lieu of any deeds by which he might otherwise be declared righteous—indeed, Paul points out, before the law of circumcision had even been given that he might keep it—God says, “I’ll take that; consider yourself justified.”

By the means of  faith then, Abraham apprehended God’s promises to him and to his seed, just as we receive the promises of God through a true and living faith in Jesus.  As with Abraham, this faith itself is credited to us by God as righteousness, apart from any works of the law.  This is what I believe Paul is talking about when he talks about imputation.

So what about imputation in the Reformed doctrinal sense?  Does Paul teach that we are justified on the grounds of Christ’s righteousness alone?  He certainly does.  God’s declaration of righteousness on us is a free gift that was attained by Christ’s work alone.

And the free gift is not like the result of that one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the free gift following many trespasses brought justification. For if, because of one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one man, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ.  Therefore, as one trespass led to condemnation for all men, so one act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all men.
Romans 5:16-18

Here we see Christ’s “act of righteousness” is what leads to our justification.  In a Reformed theological sense, we might say that it is imputed to us.  As a side, I must insist that Romans 5:18 is speaking of a single act that attains justification, otherwise it destroys the parallel to Adam’s one trespass.  It is one act of righteousness that makes the whole thing possible.  Imputation of Christ’s life-work not explicitly found here.

What was this single righteous act?  Paul has already told us in Romans 5:8-9.

. . . but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God.

We are justified by Christ’s blood.  This does not necessarily obliterate the idea of the imputation of Christ’s active obedience, but I would say Paul makes no such distinction.  Justification is more organic than taking a log entry from one roll and arbitrarily transferring it to another in order to settle the books.  The key is that we are placed “in Christ.”  For Romans 4-7 is Paul’s entire argument to bring us to one conclusion:

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
Romans 8:1

This is the grounds for our justification.  For if we are in Christ, then all that he is has become ours.  That is our imputation.  When we by faith receive Christ, God regards all that is Christ’s as ours, for we are in him.  How are we placed in him?  Romans 6 gives us this answer: by baptism, and all that it represents.

Whether Romans 6 is speaking of water baptism, or only of “spirit baptism,” or both, is a topic for another discussion, but whichever it is speaking of, this baptism is the means by which we are placed in Christ, by which we receive his righteousness to our account, and are therefore judged righteous before God.

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.  For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.
Romans 6:3-11

Does this render the Reformed doctrine of imputation “redundant” with union with Christ?  Not at all.  Rather, with this understanding, imputation and forensic justification are the inevitable result of our vital union with Christ and his covenant headship.  That is, union and imputation are related but distinct concepts.

It was Jonathan Edwards who said:

“The atonement worked by Jesus’ life and death is achieved by such a community of him and us that if the Father loves the Son, he must love us also.” ²

We might take this thought and apply it just as legitimately to forensic justification.  If we are found “in Christ,” as Paul says, then because of that union, if the Father regards the Son as righteous, then He must justify us also.

. . . for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.
Galatians 3:26-27

If we are united to Christ his righteousness must appear on our account because his account and ours are the same account.

So does Paul teach the Reformed doctrine of imputation?  Yes.  He just doesn’t call it that.