Two heavyweight proponents of gospel, grace, and godliness – Michael Horton and Tim Keller – discuss suffering, forgiveness, Justification through Faith, Evangelicalism (and Fundamentalism), along with a number of other topics in this thoughtful conversation between old friends. (According to Horton, this conversation was his last with Tim Keller, before Keller’s death in Spring of 2023.)
Much to chew on here. I think I’ll be watching this one again, and maybe again and again.
In many ways it seems to be seen as the conversation stopper, the ultimate trump card. Whenever a skeptic wants to take control of a spiritual conversation, the question gets tossed up like an impenetrable forcefield: With all the different translations and interpretations out there, how can anyone really know what the Bible says.
Of course sometimes it is not a conversation stopper, but a conversation starter. A person genuinely seeking, but perhaps confused or overwhelmed by all the Bible has to say may ask this very question. Such a person may hope that there is an answer. The good news is that there is an answer, and that the answer is “Yes”.
In this short 3-minute-plus video, Michael Horton tackles this question and gives a thoughtful response.
Martin Luther opposed the “theology of the cross” to all “theologies of glory.” The latter can be generally placed into three categories: three types of “ladders” we try to climb in order to see “God in the nude,” as Luther put it. These ladders were mysticism, speculation, and merit. I would like to suggest a few contemporary expressions of the theology of glory along these lines.
Fascination with the Miraculous
As in our Lord’s day, few today who seek miracles are interested in that to which signs point. “A wicked generation seeks for signs,” Jesus said, followed by Paul’s reminder that his fellow Jews were so busy looking for miraculous wonders that they stumbled over the Gospel of Christ crucified. Seeking direct experiences with God without the mediation of Scripture, preaching, and sacraments is a theology of glory. Longing for “power encounters,” we trip over the weakness of the cross. This is also true of our triumphalism, long a problem of evangelical revivalism. With its vision of conquering and reigning, the cross-bearing life of Christ which our Savior graciously allows us to share with him is traded in for a crown before the appointed time. Often, we behave like the disciples during our Lord’s ministry. Philip saw Jesus as a means to an end: “Now, just show us the Father and we’ll be satisfied,” he said. “Philip, have you been with me so long and you still don’t get it? He who has seen me has seen the Father!” Those looking for God in demonstrations of power miss the true appearance of God in the humiliation and weakness of the Suffering Servant.
His disciples never did understand him when he said he must suffer and die, and whenever he brought it up, they tried to ignore it. Or, as in Peter’s case, they rebuked him: “Surely this will never happen to you!” As Satan had offered Jesus a crown without a cross, so even Jesus’ own brothers, impressed with his success as a miracle-worker, anxiously offered a tour of the major cities. Similarly, James and John wanted to call down fire on their enemies, and their mother came to Jesus to ask him to allow her sons to sit on his left and right hand in his kingdom. Everyone was planning for glory, but Jesus was planning for the cross. “You do not know what you are asking,” Jesus told their proud mother. “Can they drink the cup that I am about to drink?” “Of course we can!”, they eagerly replied. Triumphalism ignores the cross, and when the hour of trial (sin, failure, loss of popularity, shame, and abuse) comes, we, like the disciples, flee for cover instead of sharing in Christ’s suffering. The triumphalism of theologies of glory can be discerned in much of today’s popular Christian music. Here the realities of life are replaced with platitudes and sentimentalism, a far cry from the emotional and moving words of the psalmist. Contrast much of contemporary Christian music with the depth of the classic hymns of the Moravians, Lutheran and Reformed hymn writers, Charles Wesley, and the old African-American “spirituals.”
Fascination with the Moralistic
Sadly, evangelicals and liberals often read the Bible in a similar way these days. While the former may be more conservative in their interpretations, both tend to read (and preach) the Bible moralistically: that is, either as positive tips for better living or as scolding for not being what one should be. Thus, the key biblical characters become heroes to imitate rather than figures in a redemptive-historical plot centering around Jesus Christ. Jesus told the Pharisees that in spite of their ostensive devotion to the Scriptures, they did not really understand what they were reading, since he (Jesus) is the point of all of Scripture. Similarly, after his resurrection, he rebuked his disciples for not understanding how his death and resurrection were foretold. So “beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he expounded to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself” (Luke 24:27).
If an obsession with “power encounters” stumbles over the weakness of the cross, the preoccupation with moralism finds the preaching of the cross “foolishness.” How can the wicked be declared righteous while they are still sinful? If I could know right now that nothing I did counted for my salvation, why would I even try to be holy? It’s unfair for God to elect people without basing his choice on anything in or foreseen in those who are chosen. Or, as we have seen already from Feuerbach’s pen: “The Christian theory of justification by faith is rooted in a cowardly renun-ciation of moral effort,” and belief in the hereafter nothing more than “an escape mechanism.” Our fallen sensibilities rebel against the utterly gracious character of God’s way of saving. When sin and grace are replaced with therapeutic, ethical, political, and pragmatic concerns, it is a sure sign that we too have stumbled over the Rock of offense.
The Puritan Thomas Goodwin warns us of our ten-dency even as Christians to attempt to turn faith into a work. Seeing the condition of his ship of faith and obedience, one sets out to rebuild another ship, “so he undoes himself in what he endeavors, and goes to hell by striving to go to heaven.”
Fascination with the Mysterious
As liberal theologian Paul Tillich pointed out (and exhibited), mysticism and rationalism are of one piece. Like Plato, the mystic-rationalist does not care much for this world and wishes to escape the world of “appear-ances” by abstract contemplation of “the Divine.” Christianity is deeply committed to this world (creation, provi-dence, redemption through historical events, restoration of the whole creation at the end of the age, including the resurrection of our bodies), and announces that God cannot be known directly by our reason, but must reveal himself by condescending to our capacity. The mystic-philosopher who attempts to penetrate God’s hidden council, either by specu-lation or claims to secret knowledge of God’s will beyond what is revealed in Scripture, is a theologian of glory. The theologian of the cross is content to know God as he has graciously manifested himself in the Living and written/preached Word.
The Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals exists to call the church, amidst our dying culture, to repent of its worldliness, to recover and confess the truth of God’s Word as did the Reformers, and to see that truth embodied in doctrine, worship, and life.
This article appeared in the July/August 1997, Modern Reformation/ACE
Sometimes we need to face up to difficult questions. Michael Horton, in his book The Gospel Commission, asks some really tough ones that every church, every church leader, every church member needs to ask themselves:
Instead of reaching the lost, are we losing the reached? Or are those reared in our own churches being truly reached in the first place? Do they know what they believe and why they believe it? Are we making disciples even of our own members – our own children – much less the Nations?
I honestly wonder if making disciples is even really the goal of many Christians or churches. Some are apathetic and/or complacent. Some seem to think taking the time to instruct people in sound doctrine (what we must believe about God and Man) somehow gets in the way with mission. Some are so contented in their own activity and busyness for the Lord that they sense no need to spend time with the Lord. And many seem to be satisfied with sheer increase in numbers.
Perhaps the task of making disciples seems daunting. But Jesus gave good news to those who are willing to reclaim this priority:
He provides his authority, his power, and his presence to all who endeavor to make disciples.
Michael Horton, in his book The Gospel Commission, offers this important corrective perspective of Christ:
The privatized view of Jesus merely as ‘personal Lord and Savior’ does not really provoke controversy today. After all, our non-Christian neighbors shrug: ‘Whatever works for you’. However, these ascriptions of praise to Jesus Christ were subversive on the lips of early Christians in the Roman Empire. After all, they were titles that Caesar had ascribed to himself. People could believe whatever they wanted to in private. Whatever they found morally useful, therapeutically valuable, or spiritually and intellectually enlightening was fine. In fact, when it came to gods, the more the merrier. The Roman Empire was a melting pot of cultures and religions. However, whatever varied religions and spiritualities it tolerated, Rome insisted that they contribute to the civil religion that included the cult of the emperor. God could have his heaven, or the inner soul, but Caesar was ‘Lord of the Earth’.
The early Christians were not fed to wild beasts or dipped in wax and set ablaze as lamps in Nero’s garden because they thought Jesus was a helpful life coach or role model, but because they witnessed to him as the only Lord and Savior of the world. Jesus does not just live in the private hearts of individuals as the source of an inner peace. He is the Creator, Ruler, Redeemer, and Judge of all the earth. And now he commands everyone everywhere to repent.
Horton’s contrast between the early days and the common contemporary caricature is stark. While the contemporary view is not so much wrong as it is deceivingly inadequate, we would do well to recalibrate any simple ‘Jesus meek and mild’ notions by reflection on the provocative power portrayed in the testimony of the Forefathers of our Faith.
Is there a big difference between gospel-centered and conservative moralistic churches? Michael Horton, in his book Christless Christianity, presents this picture:
“What would things look like if Satan really took control of a city?
Over half a century ago, Presbyterian minister Donald Grey Barnhouse offered his own scenario in his weekly sermon that was also broadcast nationwide on CBS radio. Barnhouse speculated that if Satan took over Philadelphia (the city where Barnhouse pastored), all of the bars would be closed, pornography banished, and pristine streets would be filled with tidy pedestrians who smiled at each other. There would be no swearing. The children would say “Yes, sir” and “No, ma’am,” and the churches would be full every Sunday…where Christ was not preached.”
According to Michael Horton: “Reason and morality cannot show us a good and gracious God. For that, we need the Incarnation.”
***
A passenger on a recent plane trip happily divulged his spiritual views. Raised in a conservative religious home, he proudly dismissed traditional Christianity, with its radical claims about Jesus of Nazareth, because it substitutes dogma for reason, he said. Fifteen minutes later, he became an apologist for a sacred cosmos, with tarot cards and astrology. But of course, he said, these were true just for him.
The encounter epitomized what we have all experienced in a culture that identifies reason with naturalism and faith with feeling. And it comes from a deeper problem: the attempt to “climb to heaven” on the rungs of reason, morality, and experience. The “search for the sacred” is what happens when our God-centered nature is taken captive by sin. Religion and spirituality are all about what we feel and think deep within our precious, delightful, individual souls. The true God calls us outdoors into a history that sweeps us into its wake. Yet we prefer to sit inside our own souls and minds, stewing in our own juices.
Biblical faith emphasizes that we cannot ascend to God on our own; rather, the God of the Bible descends down to us. Our inner self is not the playground of “spirit,” but the haunted plains on which we build our towers of Babel. In other words, our hearts are idol factories, in bondage to sin and spin. As Jeremiah declared, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (17.9, ESV, used throughout). We look for a god we can manage rather than the God who is actually there.
In Romans 1 and 2, Paul affirms this. He says that everyone knows God exists and is a sovereign, righteous, and all-knowing judge. Jew and Gentile alike know God’s moral will and so “are without excuse,” but “by their unrighteousness suppress the truth” (1.18-23). Quoting the psalmist, Paul presents the universal indictment: “… all, both Jews and Greeks, are under sin, as it is written, ‘None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one’?” (Rom. 3:9-12).
Given all this, we need to receive an external word from outside our hearts and to our hearts—one that stops our spin and gives us new hearts even as it is spoken. That’s just where Paul turns next in Romans:
But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it—the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus …. (3:21-24)
In other words, our hearts create spiritualities, therapies, and programs that arise out of our natural knowledge of the law, which we distort. Outside our hearts, and at the core of special revelation, is the surprising God, known uniquely in his Son.
There are, however, strong forces that tempt us to grasp the divine on our own accord.
On October 31, 1517 a young college professor, heavy of heart, wanted to discuss some of the things he was thinking. Posting his thoughts on the front doors of the church in the center of town – the 16th Century version of Facebook or blogging – a flame ignited that still burns today. In fact, with the recent resurgence of the Reformed tradition that flame is burning bright.
On this 494th anniversary of Martin Luther’s simple act, I thought I would post a piece that reminds us of the essence of the movement that rocked the world.
***
In May, 1989, a conference jointly sponsored by the National Association of Evangelicals and Trinity Evangelical Divinity School was held at the Trinity campus in Illinois. Dubbed a consultation on Evangelical Affirmations, the meeting revealed more than it settled. In the published addresses (Zondervan, 1990), Carl F. H. Henry, the dean of American evangelicalism, sets the tone for book with his opening line: “The term ‘evangelical’ has taken on conflicting nuances in the twentieth century. Wittingly or unwittingly, evangelical constituencies no less than their critics have contributed to this confusion and misunderstanding.” He warned that “evangelical” was being understood, not according to Scriptural teaching and “the theological ‘ought,'” but according to the sociological and empirical “is.” In other words, Henry was disturbed that evangelicalism is increasingly being defined by its most recent trends rather than by its normative theological identity. Author after author (presumably, speaker after speaker) echoed the same fears that before long “evangelical” will be useless as any meaningful identification.
The term itself derives from the Greek word euangelion, translated “Gospel,” and it became a noun when the Protestant reformers began their work of bringing the “one holy, catholic and apostolic church” back to that message by which and for which it was created. People still used other labels, too, like “Lutheran,” “Reformed,” and later, “Puritans,” “Pietists,” and “Wesleyans.” Nevertheless, the belief was that the same Gospel that had united the “evangelicals” against Rome’s errors could also unite them against the creeping naturalism and secularism of the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century. The so-called “Evangelical Awakening” in Britain coincided with America’s own “Great Awakening,” as Wesley, Whitefield, Edwards, Tennant, and so many others centered their preaching on the atonement. Later, of course, Wesley’s zeal for Arminian emphases divided the work in Britain, but the Reformation emphases were clearly and unambiguously articulated in the Great Awakening.
Out of this heritage, those today who call themselves “evangelicals” (or who are in these churches, but might not know that they are in this tradition) are heirs also to the Second Great Awakening. Radically altering the “evangel” from a concern with the object of faith, the Second Great Awakening and the revivalism that emerged from it focused on the act and experience of faith, in dependence on the proper “excitements”, as Finney and others expressed it, to trigger the right response. In our estimation, this Second Great Awakening was the most important seismic shift in American religious history. Although the Reformation emphases of sin and grace continued to exercise some influence, they were being constantly revised to make the “Gospel” more acceptable to those who thought they could pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.
Only in the last decade of this century have many of the movement’s mainstream leaders considered the loss of an evangelical substance. No longer is the evangel the focus of the movement’s identity, but it is now known more by a sub-culture, a collection of political, moral and social causes, and an acute interest in rather exotic notions about the end-times. At a loss for words, one friend answered a man’s question, “Who are the evangelicals?” with the reply, “They’re people who like Billy Graham.”
It is at this point that those of us who are heirs to the Reformation–which bequeathed to evangelicalism a distinct theological identity that has been since lost–call attention once more to the solas (only or alone) that framed the entire sixteenth-century debate: “Only Scripture,” “Only Christ,” “Only Grace,” “Only Faith,” and “To God Alone Be Glory.”
I’ve never quite understood the attraction. His words melt like cotton candy. Yet he has amassed the largest church and largest television audience in the United States. Sure, he may be a nice guy, but what is the allure of Joel Osteen?
Like him or loathe him, Osteen’s influence is pervasive. I am frequently asked my opinion of him by members of my own church – usually old ladies, who I assume think he would be a fine son or grandson.
Mike Horton has written a piece I find informative: Joel Osteen and the Story of Glory.
Check it out.
One would think I’d be a good prospect to be a part of the Religious Right.
1. I am a conservative Evangelical pastor.
2. I first identified my political identity as a Republican in the 2nd Grade.
(My teacher at Cedar Road Elementary School, Mrs. Manning, wanting to teach us a little about Civics, listed several candidates running in local elections on the board. I mistakenly thought the Republican candidate for one of the offices was my across-the-street-neighbor, so my hand went up as being for that group.)
3. By the fourth grade I actively worked for the campaign of the Republican running for County Commissioner in Montgomery County, Pennsylvania.
(No I was not that advanced. My father was working on the campaign, and I delivered flyers all around our town. Come to think of it, it was probably good that I identified as a Republican in the 2nd Grade. I’m not sure how it would have been growing up if my father had a Democrat for a son!)
4. And now that I am at least a little more aware of politics and the issues than I was when I was in the 2nd Grade, and now that I think for myself, I find I share most of the social concerns expressed by the Religious Right; and I am at least sympathetic to most of their positions.
Still, I am not part of the Religious Right, and have no desire to be identified with them.
Why not?
1. The Religious Right trusts too much in government.
It is odd. One of the loudest laments of conservatives is that Democrats historically favor BIG government; that Democrats believe that government will solve our social problems. So I find it ironic that those identified as the Religious Right place such faith in electing the right people. In other words, it seems to me they are putting their hope in those governing.
Don’t get me wrong. Electing qualified people is important to the functioning of our government, in its various spheres (i.e. Federal, State, Municipal, etc.). But the social problems we have are more a reflection of the heart than imposition of public policy. Further, I do believe that there are policies that are immoral. These policies are in place either as a reflection of or to address the corruption of our hearts – the effect of sin. But the policies do not shape our hearts.
Like him now or not, I remember when George W. Bush was running in the primaries of Y2K, he was asked about a particular policy- I think it was hate crimes. Bush said: “You cannot legislate the heart.” I think that is profoundly true.
Notice he did not say the typical “You can’t legislate morality.” That is an absurd statement. All legislation is an expression of morality (or lack of it). He said “You cannot legislate the heart.” I’ll go a step further, “You cannot legislate Righteousness”. Right behavior is not itself Righteousness. Without faith it is impossible to please God. Righteousness is faith expressing itself in right action – in behavior reflective of God’s character and standards.
Please understand, there are a number of laws and practices I want to see changed; and others I want to see averted. As a whole our society would be better off. This would restrain behavior influenced by our sin-infected hearts. But this is still not Righteousness. And anyone who believes that simple laws will make us righteous is kidding himself.
Civil Government has a God-given sphere. It is to provide structure for society. And Civil Government has authority to enforce the common standards for the benefit and protection of the members of society. It is an important but limited role.
Matters of faith – faith that shapes values & behavior – belongs in the other two governing spheres: Family & Church. It is God’s Word that instructs us concerning what we are to believe, and what is good & right. This faith is shaped and expressed in the family and Church. And when we live-out our faith, we express the righteousness God is working in us.
I’m afraid the Religious Right converges & confuses these God-given spheres. Consequently many are trusting too much in government, and not enough in what God does, and is doing, by the power of the Gospel.
2. The Religious Right Distorts the Gospel
The Gospel is not: “Be good and you will be righteous.” It is certainly not: “If you don’t do evil, you are righteous.”
The Gospel is: There is none righteous. But despite the fact we are not good, God has loved us. He sent his Son to take upon himself our guilt and punishment. Whoever trusts in Him – and particularly what He has done on the Cross – is not only forgiven of sin & debt to God, but declared by Divine judiciary to be righteous; we are credited with the righteousness of Christ.
All of this is a matter of faith. And faith cannot be removed from righteousness.
Faith that is genuine will be expressed in a noticeable improvement of our attitudes and actions (in other words, they will incrementally become more in line with Christ’s). These actions of faith are what the Bible calls works of righteousness. Again, righteousness is not the actions themselves.
Sadly, I believe the political emphasis of the Religious Right distorts the Gospel by too often appealing to behavior as the basis of our relationship with God, and not in faith in Christ. I recognize that the vast majority of those who identify themselves as part of the Religious Right personally make this distinction, but in the heat of political battle the message is not clearly or often enough expressed.
I also often wonder if the leaders of the Religious Right appreciate the power of the Gospel to bring change to individual lives, and thus to a society. Far better to have people experiencing the power of the Gospel that transforms our hearts, our perspective, our desires, and ultimately our behavior, than to merely restrain behavior.
Government cannot change anyone, really. That is why the efforts of the Religious Right to energize the Evangelical Church into little better than a Political Action Committee sadden me – and angers me. Too often politics has become the substitute mission of the church. But the message being proclaimed is no substitute for the Gospel.
3. The Religious Right Has Made Partisanship a Condition of Christianity
I have no idea how many times I have heard it: “I don’t know how someone can be a Christian and be a Democrat”.
I know when that is said it is almost always in reference to some of the social issues, that I agree need to be addressed and, that are supported more prominently by Democrats than Republicans. But I fear that some may really wonder if political affiliation is a condition for salvation – in other words, that receiving Christ requires Faith AND Voters Registration. NO! NO! NO!
Being a Christian = trusting in Christ + NOTHING! Salvation is by Grace alone, through Faith alone, in Christ alone. PERIOD.
How we live that faith out may vary. And I see both parties lacking.
Again, I am a lifelong Republican. But I must recognize that Republicans do not always have a good track record, for instance, for directly helping the poor & outcastes. I don’t think it is as bad as caricatured. Neither are the Democrat policies as good as some would want us to believe. (See Marvin Olasky’s The Tragedy of American Compassion.) But I understand how someone filled by the compassion of Christ would choose to identify with those promising direct involvement and resources for the poor. This is an expression of their Faith. One can do this without necessarily embracing every plank of the party’s platform. And I can understand them, without necessarily agreeing with them.
I was struck several years ago by this comment byMichael Horton:
“At the risk of hyperbole, one wonders today what would be more dangerous in some Evangelical gatherings: disagreeing with someone over the doctrine of the Incarnation or disagreeing with Rush Limbaugh.”
(From Beyond Culture Wars, pg 18)
Sadly, I think the emphasis of the Religious Right, for whatever good may have been done, has had this effect on many conservatives.
Today is Super Tuesday. And now that I got all that off my chest, it’s time for me to go vote. I have been wrestling with this for several weeks, and made my decision a few weeks ago. But I’ll refrain from naming my candidate. I’ll cast my vote and pray…
“Lord, Have Mercy on Us!”
GRACE & PEACE 