How the Bible Came into Being

This year’s HBU Theology Conference takes up the issue of canon on March 2-4. Our plenary speakers are James Charlesworth (Princeton Theological Seminary) and Lee McDonald (formerly of Acadia Divinity College). Both are well-known for the contributions on this topic. We also have a great line-up of speakers on Friday who will speak on canonical criticism, various figures in church history and their views of canon, textual problems relevant to the question of canon, among other topics. There will be something for everyone.

You can find more information about the conference and registrar at www.hbu.edu/theologyconference.

The conference is jointly hosted with Lanier Theological Library (http://www.laniertheologicallibrary.org/). If you haven’t been to the chapel and library before, you certainly want to attend Saturday night’s double lecture. You can register for the Saturday lecture at laniertheologicallibrary.org/events.

The conference is also partly sponsored by Faithlife, makers of Logos Bible Software. They will have a display booth at the conference where you can preview and purchase Logos or upgrade your present version.

C.S. Lewis, Jupiter and Christmas

November 29th is the anniversary of the birth of C.S. Lewis. In his university lectures on the medieval cosmos, Lewis would sometimes refer to his own birthday, saying: ‘Those born under Jupiter are apt to be cheerful and festive, loud-voiced and red-faced.’ He would then pause and add, ‘It is obvious under which planet I was born!’ – which always produced a laugh.

Lewis did not literally believe in astrology, but he certainly admired the poetical use to which astrological symbolism could be put. ‘The characters of the planets, as conceived by medieval astrology, seem to me to have a permanent value as spiritual symbols,’ he wrote in 1935. In this article I want to show something of what he thought about the stars and planets not only in connection with his own birthday and ‘days’ in general, but also with an immeasurably greater day, the Feast of Christmas, the nativity of Christ.

From time immemorial and right through into the late Middle Ages, there were only seven known planets. Uranus was not discovered till 1781, Neptune in 1845, and Pluto in 1930 (since 2006 it has been classified as a ‘dwarf planet’). A planet is literally a ‘wanderer’. The planets are the wandering stars that take their own individual paths across the sky. All the other celestial bodies are not planets, but stars, either fixed in their own unique positions, like the Pole Star, or forming fixed parts of larger constellations. The seven medieval planets included the Sun and the Moon; the other five were Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. The Earth was not considered ‘Planet’ Earth, but rather was thought to be the still centre of the turning universe.

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The planetary deities in the order of the days of the week.  Illustration from an edition of Dante’s ‘Divine Comedy’.

It is from the seven medieval planets that we take the names of the days of the week. How Saturday, Sunday, and Monday relate to Saturn, the Sun, and the Moon is pretty obvious. The connection between the other four planets and the other four days of the week is slightly concealed from us who speak English because, for some odd reason lost in the mists of time, we use the Norse names for the relevant planetary deities rather than the Roman names. Thus Tuesday is named for Tiw or Tyr, the Norse equivalent of the Roman god, Mars (think of Martes in Spanish or Mardi in French). Wednesday is named for Woden, the Norse equivalent of the Roman Mercury (Miercoles / Mercredi). Thursday is named for Thor, the Norse equivalent of Jupiter or Jove (Jueves / Jeudi). And Friday is named for Freya or Frigg, the Norse equivalent of Venus (Viernes / Vendredi).

In the course of researching Lewis and the seven heavens for my book, Planet Narnia, I discovered a page of notes (see below) that he scribbled in the end-leaves of one of the volumes of his complete edition of Chaucer.  These notes, which Lewis made about Chaucer’s poem, ‘The Knight’s Tale’, from The Canterbury Tales, indicate the interest Lewis took in the poetic use that could be made of planetary symbolism.  Lewis admired the way Chaucer not only put the planetary characters into ‘The Knight’s Tale’ as actors in the drama, but also wove the relevant planetary influences into the plot. So, for example, the climax of ‘The Knight’s Tale’ happens on a Tuesday, the day of Mars, an appropriate ending for a story about martial knights.

lewis-on-chaucerLewis’s notes explain how it is that certain days of the week are connected to particular planets. He writes: ‘The first hour of every day belongs to the planet of the day: after that the others follow in downward order from him to the rest; then go on repeating.’

To understand what Lewis means by ‘downward order’, take a look at the diagram below, showing the seven heavens. The planet in the seventh heaven is Saturn. Below Saturn come Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, and the Moon.cosmos

Lewis’s notes clarify why Monday follows Sunday in the order of the days of the week, even though the Moon and the Sun are not adjacent in the order of the planets. The Sun, being the eye and mind of the whole universe, was believed to rule the first hour of the first day of the week. After the Sun has laid claim, so to speak, to Sunday by ruling its first hour, it moves aside and allows Venus, the planet immediately underneath in the order of the planets, to rule the second hour of Sunday. Venus then makes way for Mercury to rule the third hour of Sunday, and Mercury then lets the Moon have a go. After the Moon has ruled the fourth hour, there are no planets lower down to take over, so the sequence starts again from the top, with Saturn ruling the fifth hour of Sunday, Jupiter ruling the sixth hour, and Mars ruling the seventh hour. At the eighth hour, it’s the Sun’s turn again. And, as the sequence continues, the Sun rules also the fifteenth hour and the twenty-second hour. With the day drawing to a close, the twenty-third hour of Sunday is ruled by Venus, the twenty-fourth hour by Mercury, and then Sunday’s twenty-fifth hour (as it were) is governed by the Moon, but since each day only has 24 hours, we find ourselves in a new day, whose first hour is Lunar, – hence we call it Moonday. And that, in a nutshell, is why Monday follows Sunday!

jupiter

Jupiter enthroned in the heavens and the people on earth who exhibit the Jovial influence.  Woodcut by Hans Sebald Beham (1500-1550).

Back to the date of Lewis’s birthday and his being born under Jupiter: we are all familiar with the idea of being ‘born under’ a planet. We tend to think of this mostly in connection with the twelve houses or ‘signs’ of the zodiac, as they correspond (roughly) to the twelve months of the year. If you are born in late November, like C.S. Lewis, that puts you in the house of Sagittarius, whose sign is a centaur aiming a bow and arrow. The planet responsible for ‘ruling’ that zodiacal house, according to astrological tradition, is Jupiter.  So Lewis was indeed ‘born under’ Jupiter, as he said he was, at least as regards the month of his birth.

As for the day on which he was born: 29th November fell on a Tuesday in 1898, so he was born under Mars as well as under Jupiter. I do not know the hour in which he was born on that Tuesday, but one supposes it to have been a ‘jovial’ hour. Lewis was a hearty, rubicund man who had a love of Jupiter (or Jove) throughout his life. He inherited these qualities from his father, for Albert Lewis was ‘often the most jovial and companionable of parents’, according to Surprised by Joy.

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Ruth Pitter

Lewis once declared that, if he were to marry anyone, it would be the poet Ruth Pitter (this was before he was surprised by Joy Davidman!). He wrote to her in 1954 remarking on her name: ‘I always thought that the Pitters (dies-piter and all that) descended from Jove through Aeneas and Brute.’ The name Jupiter derives from dies-piter, which literally means ‘shining father’, as Lewis would have known from (among other sources) Edwyn Bevan’s Symbolism and Belief, a book he rated highly.

Brute, or Brut, the first king of Britain in mythical history, was the son of Aeneas Silvius, grandson of Ascanius and great-grandson of Aeneas of Troy. In another letter of 1954, Lewis offers a little more detail about this mythical British or Celtic line ‘that goes back through the Tudors to Cadwallader and thence to Arthur, Uther, Cassibelan, Lear, Lud, Brut, Aeneas, Jupiter.’ It is amusing to find Lewis, the self-styled Jovial man, toying with the idea of marrying into Jupiter’s family by taking Ruth Pitter as his wife. And it is intriguing to observe that Lewis gives to the heroine of That Hideous Strength, Jane Studdock, the surname ‘Tudor’ as her maiden name. Jane and her husband Mark (a suitably Martial moniker) are to become the parents of a son who will perpetuate Jupiter’s line in modern-day England.

Version 2How apt, incidentally, that Lewis’s favourite Oxford pub, the Eagle & Child, home to so many meetings of the Inklings, was named for an episode in the life of Zeus, the forerunner in Greek mythology of the Roman god, Jupiter. Zeus fell in love with the beautiful child, Ganymede, and sent an eagle to snatch him up to Mount Olympus where he could serve as his royal cup-bearer.

Those who knew C.S. Lewis have often noted his joviality, though not always with a clear recognition of the significance the term had for him in his personal lexicon. Paul Piehler remembers ‘a plumpish, red-faced Ulsterman with a confident, jovial Ulster rasp to his voice’. Peter Milward recalls ‘a burly, red-faced, jovial man’. John Lawlor relates how Lewis’s ‘determined and even aggressive joviality was all on the surface: within was a settled contentment’. Peter Bayley describes him as ‘Jove-like, imperious, certain, absolute’. Richard Ladborough says he was ‘frequently jovial’. W.R. Fryer speaks of his ‘jovial maleness’. Peter Philip opines that ‘his manner was jovial when he was in a good mood, which I must say was most of the time’. Pat Wallsgrove likens Lewis to ‘a jovial farmer’. Claude Rawson writes that his nickname, ‘Jack’, was ‘well suited to his jovial “beer and Beowulf” image’. Nevill Coghill recalls that, although Lewis was formidable, ‘this was softened by joviality’. Douglas Gresham remembers his step-father as ‘jovial’. The title of Chesterton’s novel, The Man Who Was Thursday, might have been coined as a description of C.S. Lewis, notwithstanding his Tuesday nativity!

Version 2But though so many people use the word ‘jovial’ of the man, only George Watson, his Cambridge colleague, explicitly recognizes how important the planetary derivation was for Lewis himself: ‘His own humour was sanguine, its presiding deity Jove, and . . . he knew that it was’ (Watson, Critical Essays on C.S. Lewis, 1992, p3). Peter Milward goes further, making a link to Lewis’s fiction. Having emphasized Lewis’s ‘sturdily jovial manner’, Milward notes an important connection: ‘he was indeed a . . . jovial man; and these qualities of his I later recognized . . . in his character of the kingly animal, Aslan.’

Aslan, Narnia’s Christ figure, brings us to Christmas and the birth of the infant Jesus. In early January 1953, Lewis wrote to Ruth Pitter remarking on what he had seen in the night-sky during the recent Christmas: ‘It was beautiful, on two or three successive nights about the Holy Time, to see Venus and Jove blazing at one another, once with the Moon right between them: Majesty and Love linked by Virginity – what could be more appropriate?’ Venus signifies love, of course, and the Moon virginity. Jupiter signifies majesty or kingliness and, as such, was a very suitable symbol for Christ, the ‘king of kings’ (Revelation 19:16).

In attempting to read the significance of the Christmas stars, Lewis was modeling himself on the magi, the wise men who followed the star from the east and who came to Herod asking, ‘Where is he that has been born King of the Jews?’ (Matthew 2:2). There is a right and proper use of astrology, if it leads to the worship of Christ. That the stars speak of Christ is only to be expected, for, in the words of Lewis’s favourite psalm, ‘The heavens are telling the glory of God’ (Psalm 19:1).

Lewis was alert to the royal and imperial implications of Christ’s nativity.  Writing about Psalm 110 in his only full-length work of scriptural commentary, Reflections on the Psalms (1958), Lewis notes that this psalm is appointed to be read on Christmas Day in the order of readings given by the Anglican Prayer Book. He remarks:

We may at first be surprised by this.  There is nothing in [Psalm 110] about peace and goodwill, nothing remotely suggestive of the stable at Bethlehem.  It seems to have been originally either a coronation ode for a new king, promising conquest and empire, or a poem addressed to some king on the eve of war, promising victory.  It is full of threats.  The “rod” of the king’s power is to go forth from Jerusalem, foreign kings are to be wounded, battle fields to be covered with carnage, skulls cracked.  The note is not “Peace and goodwill” but “Beware.  He’s coming”.  Two things attach it to Christ with an authority far beyond that of the Prayer Book.  The first of course is that He Himself did so; He is the “lord” whom “David” calls “my Lord”.  The second is the reference to Melchizedek.

Lewis then proceeds to give a detailed disquisition on Melchizedek, the numinous priest-king mentioned in the Book of Genesis (14:18-19). Melchizedek becomes, in Psalm 110, a spiritual ancestor of the Davidic king. The psalmist says of the king, ‘thou art a priest forever in the order of Melchizedek’, a description which is taken up in the New Testament in the Epistle to the Hebrews and applied repeatedly to Jesus Christ (Hebrews 5:6; 6:20; 7:11; 7:17; 7:21).

There is one interesting fact about Melchizedek that Lewis does not disclose in his Reflections on the Psalms, though he undoubtedly knew of it, and it provides another reason for regarding this Christmas psalm as Jovial in its symbolism: the Hebrew word Melchizedek means both ‘my king is righteousness’ and ‘my king is Jupiter’.  (For more details on this fascinating link, see the helpful article here.)

Jesus Christ, the king of kings and lord of lords, the divine Word by whom all things were made, spoke the planet Jupiter into being on the fourth day of creation (Genesis 1:14-19). Lewis in his commentary on the psalms is not, of course, arguing, or even suggesting, that Jesus was actually ‘born under Jupiter’, as he jokingly told his university lecture audiences that he himself had been. But from all that we have seen of his interest in the planets and his love of Jove in particular, I am sure he would have considered the idea highly appropriate.

John Collins (Yale) at HBU: 10/13, 7:30pm

A.O. Collins Lectures

Featured Guest: John J. Collins (Yale Divinity School)

Thursday, October 13 7:30pm; Belin Chapel

Title: Outside the Canon. The Literature of Second Temple Judaism, and Why It Matters: The Apocalyptic Genre

The School of Christian Thought is pleased to announce that John J. Collins will deliver the A. O. Collins lectures for fall 2016.

A native of Ireland, Professor Collins is the Holmes Professor of Old Testament Criticism and Interpretation at john_collinsYale Divinity School. He previously taught at the University of Chicago and the University of Notre Dame. He has published widely on the subjects of apocalypticism, wisdom, Hellenistic Judaism, and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Including among his many books are the commentary on Daniel in the Hermeneia series; The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature; Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls; Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age; The Apocalyptic Imagination; Between Athens and Jerusalem: Jewish Identity in the Hellenistic Diaspora; Introduction to the Hebrew Bible with CD-ROM; He holds an honorary D.Litt. from University College Dublin, and an honorary Th. D. from the University of Zurich.

Please join us for this lecture.

It is an important event for our campus and community.  Should you have questions, please contact the chair of the Department of Theology, Dr. Jason Maston.

See also our upcoming lectures at our Annual Theology Conference: hbu.edu/TheologyConference.

Houston Church Planting Network Lunch

The Department of Theology is co-hosting this month’s Houston Church Planting Network lunch. It’s May 25th at 11:30 in McNair Hall. See the RSVP details below.

May HCPN Gathering

Our next HCPN gathering will be Wednesday, May 25th from 11:30a-1:30p.

Please make sure and RSVP if you plan to attend.

NOTE: Each person attending must RSVP separately.

We will be hearing from Daniel Im. Daniel is the Director of Church Multiplication for New Churches and LifeWay Christian Resources, while also serving as a Teaching Pastor at The Fellowship, a multisite church in Nashville, TN. Recently he wrote Planting Missional Churches: Your Guide to Starting Churches that Multiply (2nd ed.)with Ed Stetzer.

Our host this month is Houston Baptist University. The address is 7502 Fondren Rd, Houston, TX 77074. Click here for directions.

Lunch will be provided but we need an accurate count by May 20th so please RSVP in plenty of time to get them the correct number.

Our Guest Speaker: Daniel Im, Director of Church Multiplication at LifeWay Christian Resources

Call for Papers: Ad Fontes, Ad Futura: Erasmus’ Bible and the Impact of Scripture

In celebration of upcoming 500th anniversary of Erasmus’ Greek text and the Reformation, the Department of Theology at HBU, in conjunction with the Dunham Bible Museum, is pleased to host the conference Ad Fontes, Ad Futura: Erasmus’ Bible and the Impact of Scripture. The conference will be hold at HBU on February 25-27, 2016.

We will consider the textual and historical issues surrounding the development of the Bible, the Bible’s impact on human society across the centuries, and the future of Biblical translation and interpretation in the future. Our keynote speakers include Craig Evans (Houston Baptist University), Timothy George (Beeson Divinity School, Samford University), Herman Selderhuis (Theological University Apeldoorn) and Daniel Wallace (Dallas Theological Seminary). The plenary talks are free and open to the public.

We also invite proposals for short papers from scholars and graduate students from a wide array of disciplines and topics, including:

  • The historical context, and textual tradition, of the Biblical canon;
  • The history of the Greek text of the Bible;
  • The social and/or cultural impact of the Bible in any historical period or location;
  • The Bible and the history of the book;
  • Modern Bible translations and translation practice;
  • Textual and cultural issues concerning the Bible in the Digital Age.

Anyone who is interested should submit a 300 word abstract on any relevant topic by December 18, 2015. Papers should be 20 minutes long, and decisions will be announced in early January. Send proposals to Jason Maston at jmaston@hbu.edu.

You can get further information and register here:  www.hbu.edu/theologyconference.

Living Reflectively

“What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”  (Ps. 8:4)

Anyone who takes the time to think of how much God loves him or her would be amazed by how unfathomable God’s love for him or her is.

Those who live thoughtlessly:  There are people who live thoughtlessly and, therefore, aimlessly.  For them life is a seemingly unending series of trial and errors.  Such people never realize that God is good.  Their lives consist of their making one wrong impulsive decision after another, yet they have the gall to blame God for the consequences of their mistakes.

Those who live in the past:  There are those who live in the past.  Some huge wrong decision in the past had pulled them down and has kept them down, and they never seem to lift up their heads to consider the possible solutions to their problems.

Those who live for the moment:  There are those who live for the moment, the here and now.  Esau is a very good example of this type of people.  The Bible tells us that one day Esau got back home from hunting in the forest, and he was famished.  He saw that his twin brother, Jacob, had prepared a delicious-looking red stew.  Esau asked if Jacob would be kind enough to give him some of his stew.  Jacob responded that he would give Esau the stew only if Esau would sell him his birthright.  Esau, who was focused only on his hunger at that time, would proceed to sell Jacob his birthright for some stew that would satisfy his hunger that one time alone (see Genesis 25:29-34).

Those who live for the moment do not take the time to consider the consequences of their decisions and actions.  Their motto is, “Do it if it will satisfy a need now.”  Continue reading

Avoiding Idolatry or What We May Learn From the Ancient Church

Some time ago, a Christian celebrity occupied the office next to my office at the university. This great lunch partner and friend awarded me a gift upon his departure — a Bible signed by Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker. They gave him the gift when his wife and he had appeared on their TV show. Upon hearing the story my daughter laughed and asked, “Who signs the Bible – is that idolatrous?” We talked about when one should and should not sign a Bible. My daughter laughed at me even more when I confessed I had for a time used the Bible to prop up my computer monitor to the correct height- irreverent by contrast. Recently I came across the word “idolatry” in Denys Turner’s beautiful book on Thomas Aquinas. I teach that religious language is rooted in analogy. I tell students that some language is metaphorically true, for example, “God is my rock.”  Literal language, more modestly, sees a connection between our words about people and our words about God.

Analogy falls between two mistaken approaches to language. A (1) univocal sense pictures our language is a perfect fit; words like “wise” apply directly to God without reservation. Thomas knew this approach would never work. It is indeed the case that my father is wise; but Thomas knew that God was wiser still.

Neither did Thomas tolerate the other mistaken approach – the (2) equivocal sense. In this approach, the words we use to speak about God have nothing to do with our human experience at all. Saying my father is wise would have no relationship at all to saying God is wise.

Thankfully, Thomas avoids the two extremes. The (1) univocal is over confident in human ability to capture God exhaustively. The (2) equivocal concludes that human experience and language is not related to God at all; our language thus provides no insight whatsoever. Thomas teaches that human analogues, like a wise father, really do help us understand something about God. Simple enough. We can speak meaningfully but not exhaustively about God.

Turner’s book artfully argues that Thomas was more concerned with what analogical language sought to protect (the mystery of God) than to articulate.  In other words, Thomas was happy to nail down that knowing my father was wise would help me understand that God was wise; he was even more concerned to remind me that there is a depth to God’s wisdom beyond my father’s – beyond what I could know.

Turner worries about modern folk’s God talk. Without the limits of analogy in mind, we may read the Scripture picturing God as one more actor among all the others. Taking God down to size has consequences; according to Turner, Thomas would declare it idolatry.

Herbert McCabe wrote long ago that Thomas was a mystic; he seems smarter with each passing day.

The Domino Effect of the Consequences of Sin

lightstock_66582_medium_user_2441408The devil tries his best to get us to think of the pleasure of the moment.  His preference is to keep us from even thinking about the future but, failing that, he tries to get us to envision an unrealistic view of the future.  I am reminded of a multivitamin that was very popular in Nigeria when I was growing up.  Everyone simply called it ‘multivite.’  The manufacturers of ‘multivite’ knew that the core of the tablet was very bitter, so they made sure they had a thin sugar coating around it.  You were tempted to think that it was a very sweet tablet, but that feeling was short-lived, for you soon realized that much of the tablet was actually very bitter.  That is what the devil does with sin.  The devil tries to get us to concentrate on the thin, sweet, momentary pleasure of sin that would very quickly give way to the long-lasting bitter consequences.

Adam and Eve found this out the hard way.  When the devil in the form of the serpent tempted Eve, Eve explained that God had commanded them not to eat fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and that should they eat of it they would surely die.  The serpent would respond by saying, “You will not surely die.  For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:4-5).   In saying, “You will not surely die” the serpent was lying.  The serpent then got Eve to concentrate on the pleasure of the moment, saying, “Your eyes will be opened.”   Finally the serpent over-glamorized what would be the aftermath of the fall.  The serpent would say, “You will be like God knowing good and evil.”

Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit and, as a domino effect, there were some dire consequences for them as well as some dire consequences that went beyond them. Continue reading

Of Scapegoats and Jubilees: Reading Between the Lines in Luke 4:16-30

torah-readingIn Luke 4:16-30 we have a uniquely Lukan story. After his baptism by John, Jesus undergoes 40 days of temptation in the wilderness. He then returns to Galilee full of the Spirit and teaches in the synagogues. Luke 4:16-30 gives us one example of his teaching. In Luke, this sermon is programmatic. It sets the agenda for Jesus’ mission: the restoration of Israel, with a focus on the poor, the marginalized, and the outcast. Here, in his hometown Nazareth, Jesus appropriates the prophet’s words from Isaiah 61: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

A couple things in this text should be noted. First, the text, in Jesus’ mouth, points back to his own reception of the Spirit at his baptism. This is the divine empowerment which enables him to carry out his prophetic task. Second, the gospel (good news) that Jesus brings has a distinctively social and economic texture. The Israel Jesus addresses (his Nazareth audience is surely typical of the subsistence-level peasant population in Galilee) is viewed as one languishing in captivity. Under foreign domination (Rome) and a corrupt temple establishment, ancestral lands had been confiscated and once-free Israelites suffered in poverty as virtual debt-slaves. Many pious Israelites would have seen these woes as the outworking of the covenant curses (see Deuteronomy 28:15ff), brought on by Israel’s sins. The vision of salvation here is thus holistic, dealing not only with personal sins against God but with corporate sins involving systematic oppression. Continue reading

What does “We believe in God the Father mean?” or What did the early church know that we may need to re[dis]cover?

lightstock_146024_medium_user_870913Rowan Williams, wise and worrisome, reminds us that the earliest creeds begin with the notion of trust.  The early confessors were not typically facing a common question from our own day: whether or not to affirm there is god, whether some kind of generic god or gods exist?  The early Christians affirmed and embraced a mystery when they declared “we believe…”  They were declaring allegiance to a very peculiar version of God. They were publicly acknowledging they placed trust in this one and true God who has sent his Son on mission to reclaim the world; the same one and true God was now present in the world, being heard in the voice of the Spirit (Trinitarian from the get-go).  Don’t miss the mysterious direction of things. The Father had come our direction with the Son; now the Father was working (even wooing) within us to bring us his direction in the Spirit.

The early confessor was not saying (1) “I am affirming that there is a god.” This is what young modern evangelicals have in mind when they have seasons of doubt.  They also assume this is the question their non or post Christian friends have in mind in this secular age. It is an affirmation that is rooted in the domains of metaphysics (think, “what is real?”) and epistemology (think, “how do I know what is real?”). Continue reading

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