Mr. Lane Tipton accuses Dr. Michael Horton of Lutheranism on "union with Christ" and, hence, semi-Pelagianism.
Eegads.
Eegads.
Showing posts with label Horton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Horton. Show all posts
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Charlie Ray Hits on Horton, Keller, and Chandler
As usual, this broadcast would have been better served not by "talking heads," but by corporate prayers vis a vis the Morning or Evening Prayer of the Book of Common Prayer. Why do these fellas think they are so important when we have salutary forms of petition and worship? For the British and Australians, it might not matter in your parts, but these fellows are "celebrities in America." A bit much.
http://networkedblogs.com/kksVw?a=share&ref=nf
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Mike Horton, Tim Keller, and Matt Chandler Lament the Invention of the Printing Press and the Internet
I'm always amused when those in ivory towers and fortresses complain about the priesthood of believers. It's that nasty internet. I mean we can't control what people say and think anymore. The genie is out of the bottle.
Does Mike Horton really expect us to believe this crap???? PUH-leeze! The internet is the greatest thing that has happened since Gutenberg invented the printing press and the Bible was widely distributed! Now theology can be openly debated; bullshit can be immediately revealed as bullshit all in a matter of hours. Why? Because what folks write in print can now be quoted openly and spread widely in a matter of hours. In short, what you say, write, or whatever else can now be checked against the standards and writings available on computer. The technological revolution has given the laity the power to question the authority of those in power in denominational leadership positions and even question the authority of their pastors, elders and sessions. It's no longer true that the local church is the only source of information in theological and biblical matters. If that bothers Mike Horton, Matt Chandler, and the heresiarch, Tim Keller--so be it.
This article makes me wonder if Horton had anything to do with R. Scott Clark's removing of the Heidelblog? If the truth really matters then blogs by folks like R. Scott Clark are invaluable to the end of convincing the elect who are yet to be converted. Horton seems to think he and his cronies should have a monopoly on theology. Sorry guys. It's too late:) God is sovereign and God would have it that the free exchange of theological ideas would take place. As the cliche goes, "Iron sharpens iron."
Read the rest of Horton and the gang's remarks here: Pastors Outline How Christians Should Disagree, Christian News
Does Mike Horton really expect us to believe this crap???? PUH-leeze! The internet is the greatest thing that has happened since Gutenberg invented the printing press and the Bible was widely distributed! Now theology can be openly debated; bullshit can be immediately revealed as bullshit all in a matter of hours. Why? Because what folks write in print can now be quoted openly and spread widely in a matter of hours. In short, what you say, write, or whatever else can now be checked against the standards and writings available on computer. The technological revolution has given the laity the power to question the authority of those in power in denominational leadership positions and even question the authority of their pastors, elders and sessions. It's no longer true that the local church is the only source of information in theological and biblical matters. If that bothers Mike Horton, Matt Chandler, and the heresiarch, Tim Keller--so be it.
This article makes me wonder if Horton had anything to do with R. Scott Clark's removing of the Heidelblog? If the truth really matters then blogs by folks like R. Scott Clark are invaluable to the end of convincing the elect who are yet to be converted. Horton seems to think he and his cronies should have a monopoly on theology. Sorry guys. It's too late:) God is sovereign and God would have it that the free exchange of theological ideas would take place. As the cliche goes, "Iron sharpens iron."
“I found the internet to make quiet people extremely brave and people who are not informed really emboldened in their opinion and the ability to add things and say things anonymously,” said Chandler who otherwise agreed that the internet is the future.
Keller observed that internet has reduced the time lapse between publication of a book, its review and the feedback it got from peers and general readers. In the pre-internet era responses to a book were generally measured, though they might have been occasionally nasty. But with the internet, respondents are breaking all the rules necessary for a well-thought-out feedback and the comments are coming in short order.
“It’s a good place to get information but a terrible place to do debating,” Keller said.
Read the rest of Horton and the gang's remarks here: Pastors Outline How Christians Should Disagree, Christian News
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Prelim Review: Mike Horton's "Christless Christianity," 9-28.
Preliminary Review of Michael Horton’s “Christless Christianity” (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2009), pp. 9-27
The Rev. Dr. Mike Horton raises provocative, expansive, and important questions about American, if not English and Western, Christianity across seven short, fast and readable chapters. We ponder Mike’s opening salvo in Chapter 1. Mike has been thinking a long time on this proposition. In light of God's Being, Word, our Confessions and liturgies, what shall think?
We ponder chapter 1, pp. 9-27, Mike’s introduction and opening salvo. Chapter 1, “Christless Christianity,” is so entitled like the book itself, "Christless Christianity." As a Reformed and Calvinistic Anglican of an older sort than most readers, the questions Mike raises resonate but invokes wider questions. (As a Senior Churchman, this scribe comfortably calls him “Mike” rather than Dr., Professor, Rev’d, or the like. I easily call Bishops by their first names. I also call USMC Generals and USN Admirals by their first names. Never mind the Colonels and Captains. Mike won't get a pass, like other Profs.) Where is Mike going in chapter 1, his setting and setup for the remaining six chapters? Is his claim too expansive?
Mike’s theme is that America, across the theological divide, Protestant liberal or evangelical, is fast becoming “Christless.” Mike says, “In fact, my sense urgency...is pervasive, crossing the conservative-liberal spectrum and all denomination lines” (Horton, 27). That is the grand thesis, the widespread drift towards Christlessness.
If the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church, the church’s assimilation to the world—according to Mike—is the silencing of the biblical message. In short, here is Mike’s thinking: God and His redemptive story versus the narcissistic, American, co-hortative and trumping story of God as our life coach (supporting “our story”). Mike says:
Jesus has been dressed up as a corporate CEO, life coach, culture-warrior, political revolutionary, political revolutionary, philosopher, copilot, cosufferer, moral example, and partner in fulfilling our personal and social regimes. But in all of these ways, are we reducing the central character in the drama of redemption to a prop for our own play? (Horton, 25, emphasis added)
(The answer is preliminarily obvious.) This is an important question, the co-opting of the biblical message with redefinitions to suit modern predilections—ourselves and our own narcissistic narrative. Mike’s thesis is that these self-aggrandizing redefinitions define the grand, national, and trans-denominational narrative. Implicit is the sub-text that Americans are falling prey to the redefinitions, not due to lack of zeal, although that—itself—warrants examination. Can Mike sustain the enquiry and cross-examination? Mike’s thesis and cross-examination warrant inquiry.
Mike limits his thematic liabilities to four large caveats—caveats that are as wide as his fears and his singular claim. The defenses, or caveats, are quite large.
The caveats are as follows. First, Mike tells us, there are many faithful Pastors, congregations and Churchmen who are exempt from the claim. This single caveat appears to be as wide as the claim itself, to wit and in summary (and essence): “Let me, Mike, indict the entire nation, all publishing enterprises, all media centers of advertisement, all churches, all seminaries, all writings, all Professors, and all pulpits while excluding all those to whom the massive indictment might be imputed.” Big stuff! Mike’s claim cannot get much wider, but he makes it. Obviously, one shall require a wide set of sociological data to get at this…that awaits us. Second, the endpoint of “Christlessness” is not here, Mike avers, but “we are well on our way." Clear specifics are needed: definitions and specific dates, names, and quotes and needed. We are reminded of B.B. Warfield’s similar prognostications about Protestantism in the late 19th-century. How and where will Mike extricate himself, if at all? Third, the issue of zeal is not at bar, but rather: deeds rather than creeds. Aside from Mike, one thinks of Rick Warren’s infamous, famous, fatuous, anti-intellectual, non-confessional, anti-historic, anti-liturgical and gross, if not most highly stupid, claim to this effect…deeds not creeds. It is hard to believe that a pulpiteer would make this stupid claim, but Warren has and did: Deeds rather than creeds. Halfwits will approve, not careful and thoughtful Churchmen or Churchwomen. This ignorant claim finds roots in Protestant liberalism in the late 19th-early 20th century. Fourth, larger inquiries on the matter are referred by Mike to his three other books: Made in America, Power Religion, and Beyond Culture Wars. A brief summary by Mike would have been helpful here…even a paragraph. Ergo, Mike’s expansive claim needs those contexts for fairness. Clearly, Mike has been thinking about this thesis for years. Due to that alone, Mike warrants a careful ear. Is this book simply an update and rehash of the earlier ones? We’ll see. Mike’s concern is that evangelicalism is not just like theological liberalism, but is becoming theologically vacuous (Horton, 23). That is hardly novel. He quotes the evangelical Anglican, John Stott, to wit, “growth without depth.” That is hardly new. Mike’s four caveats in Chapter 1 are self-limiting propositions that insulate him from counter-objections and wider liabilities and rebuttals. Mike, that is convenient and unhelpful.
Having said that, Mike’s inquiry and proposition warrants additional scrutiny. Confessional Lutherans will, if catechetized, feel the force of Mike’s proposition. To the extent that a Presbyterian has ingested his Westminster standards, he or she shall feel the force of the inquest. Ditto, for Reformed Anglicans reared in the Reformed faith and the old Prayer Book. Baptacostals, we suppose, Mike's target audience, will not feel the force of the question, given their backgrounds. In fact, Mike seems to incessantly be arguing with his own non-confessional, non-liturgical, and broadly evangelical background--with American revivalists, Anabaptists, dispensationalists, and other non-confessional evangelicals. While that is not our background, it is Mike's and he is working it. Whatever the background, Mike's proposition MUST BE ENGAGED. Mike's question hangs in the air melodramatically, earnestly, liturgically, confessionally, biblically and with concern.
Rightly or wrongly, Mike's question and asseveration--notwithstanding his caveats--must be engaged and answered. Catholic Christians of the Reformation need to engage and answer Mike's challenges. To him, Mike, we are thankful. Thank you, Michael.
Yet, is it simply a re-baked thesis in search of publication? To wit, is it Baker or Horton simply seeking a rehatch of an old idea? As to Baker Books, we have little doubt that a $$-growth-narrative is involved. If a Baker-rehatch of an old idea from Mike's older books, this one from e.g. 2009, Mike had been working on a far more important project--The Christian Faith (1000 pages). While we distrust publishers in Grand Rapids, MI, Mike's concerns are not doubted, assuredly. We know his concerns from earlier years. More to follow.
The Collect.
O BLESSED Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning; Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace, and ever hold fast, the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Reformed Theology: Outline of Horton's Systematic Theology
Rev. Shane Lems offers this helpful outline of Mike Horton's new Systematic Theology.
www.reformedreader.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/michael-hortons-st-outline11.pdf
Shane's blog is: http://reformedreader.wordpress.com/2011/02/09/complete-outline-of-hortons-st/
We praise God that He has lifted up serious thinking Churchmen like Shane and Michael. We shall avail ourselves of this outline and use/modify (as needed) it as we read Mike's book. Mike's ST is due to arrive here 14-17 Feb 2011. Some say it is better than Berkhof, although we are not convinced. We will have more to say in the future.
American Anglicans, take note. This type of quality work is not coming from your arid precincts.
www.reformedreader.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/michael-hortons-st-outline11.pdf
Shane's blog is: http://reformedreader.wordpress.com/2011/02/09/complete-outline-of-hortons-st/
We praise God that He has lifted up serious thinking Churchmen like Shane and Michael. We shall avail ourselves of this outline and use/modify (as needed) it as we read Mike's book. Mike's ST is due to arrive here 14-17 Feb 2011. Some say it is better than Berkhof, although we are not convinced. We will have more to say in the future.
American Anglicans, take note. This type of quality work is not coming from your arid precincts.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Reformed Theology: Another review of Mike Horton's new Systematic Theology
Another review of Mike Horton's new Systematic Theology.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0310286042/ref=ox_ya_os_product
By Rev. Dr. Charles Erlandson (Tyler, Texas United States) -
Michael Horton's "The Christian Faith" is a welcome gift to the 21st century. It's a massive (1000 page) one-volume systematic theology that's written with life, passion and the needs of the 21st century in mind. While as an Anglican, I don't necessarily agree with all that Horton writes, I highly recommend his book to a wide variety of readers: seminarians and seminaries, pastors, teachers, and educated laymen. Horton's work is an incredible achievement in that he has taken the worn out discipline of systematic theology and injected it with new life.
How has he done this? First, Horton clearly writes from a position as one who understands the 21st century and the monumental changes we are seeing that are often categorized as the transition from modernity to postmodernity. Horton also draws from a wide range of sources: he not only delves into the historical background to various theological issues but also makes reference to a variety of church traditions, and not just his own Reformed tradition. He also manages to integrate his systematic theology into a living whole by the way he ties everything together through key concepts such as the covenant, Drama, Dogma, Doxology, and Discipleship. This means that Horton's work is useful not just as one more systematic theology but also as a primer in narrative theology, an inspiration to worship, and a resource for all who seek to be more faithful disciples of Jesus Christ.
Horton's work has been said by some to be one of the most important systematic theologies since Berkhof's. In fact, Horton's is better than Berkhof's, which is a work that betrays a much more modern mindset that categorizes things without necessarily showing how they all relate. Horton's work is a book that should be in the hands of a great many Christians!
The book begins with a wonderful Introduction that pictures systematic theology as a "theology for pilgrims on the way." He also relates the 4 "D" words he will use in the rest of the work to hold things together: Drama, Doctrine, Doxology, and Discipleship. It all begins with the greatest story ever told, which means that Horton is aware of the importance of narrative theology, and not just an old-school propositional theology. The Drama of the gospel inevitably leads to Doctrine, and Doctrine leads to Doxology or praise. Ultimately, theology must lead to Discipleship as well. Horton wants his work to reflect and embody the goal of doctrine, which must not only be understood and articulated but also "preached, experienced, and lived as a `community of theater' in the world today."
Horton writes from a specifically Reformed perspective, but he is careful not to begin and end his thought with only Reformed categories of thought. Instead, he interacts with exegetical, philosophical, practical, and theological questions from a historically informed position. I'm also glad to see that he has not only acknowledged Eastern Orthodox theology but has clearly benefited from its wisdom and perspective.
Part 1, which consists of the first 5 chapters of "The Christian Faith," deals with "Knowing God: The Presuppositions of Theology." Although these chapters don't begin Horton's systematic theology, they lay a crucial foundation for it. This section may be difficult and not as relevant for all readers, but in these chapters Horton profitably deals with important foundations for theology, which has become more necessary in an age of postmodernism.
It's always interesting to see how a writer handles some of the more difficult aspects of his material, so I was keen to see how Horton dealt with predestination, the Trinity, and the Church, as just three examples of important material. In Chapter 8, Horton tackles the doctrine of the Trinity, which has undergone a resurgence of interest in recent decades. In this chapter, he gives the important and necessary historical background that enables the reader to understand the various views of the Trinity that have been held. This historical background also enables Horton to offer a theology of the Trinity that integrates the best insights of Augustinian, Orthodox, and other views while avoiding some of the potential errors that come from an overemphasis these historical positions are often open to.
While Horton's discussion of predestination in Chapter 9 is useful, he fails to adequately explain how God's predestination relates to the need for human agency in doxology and discipleship (he does deal with this, but inadequately). Likewise, I found his presentation on the Church to be one of the places where Horton's own Reformed perspective triumphs over an attempt at incorporating other views. The book would have been stronger if, in this section, he had dealt more with the views of the early church, as well as the views of other traditions, as he does elsewhere.
In spite of some weaknesses, Horton's work is a superior and delightful achievement. Through his use of the covenant, he's able to integrate the various components of systematic theology into a pleasing whole that should become a standard work for decades to come.
Horton breaks down his book in the following way, which manages to reflect the traditional categories of systematic theology while at the same time revitalizing this field.
Part 1 - Knowing God: The Presupposition of Theology
1. Dissonant Dramas: Paradigms for Knowing God and the World
2. The Character of Theology
3. The Source of Theology: Scripture
4. Scripture as Covenant Canon
5. The Bible and the Church: From Scripture to System
Part 2 - God Who Lives
6. God: The Incommunicable Attributes
7. God: The Communicable Attributes
8. The Holy Trinity
Part 3 - God Who Creates
9. The Decree: Trinity and Predestination
10. Creation: God's Time for us
11. Providence
12. Being Human
13. The Fall of Humanity
Part 4 - God Who Rescues
14. The Person of Christ
15. The State of Humiliation
16. The State of Exaltation
Part 5 - God Who Reigns in Grace
17. Called to be Saints: Christ's Presence in the Spirit
18. Union with Christ
19. Forensic Aspects of Union with Christ: Justification and Adoption
20. The Way Forward to Grace: Sanctification and Perseverance
21. The Hope of Glory
22. The Kingdom of Grace and the New Covenant Church
23. Word and Sacrament: The Means of Grace
24. Baptism and the Lord's Supper
25. The Attributes of the Church: Unity, Catholicity, and Holiness
26. Apostolicity
Part 6 - God Who Reigns in Glory
27. A Dwelling Place
28. The Return of Christ and the Last Judgment
29. The Last Battle and Life Everlasting
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0310286042/ref=ox_ya_os_product
By Rev. Dr. Charles Erlandson (Tyler, Texas United States) -
Michael Horton's "The Christian Faith" is a welcome gift to the 21st century. It's a massive (1000 page) one-volume systematic theology that's written with life, passion and the needs of the 21st century in mind. While as an Anglican, I don't necessarily agree with all that Horton writes, I highly recommend his book to a wide variety of readers: seminarians and seminaries, pastors, teachers, and educated laymen. Horton's work is an incredible achievement in that he has taken the worn out discipline of systematic theology and injected it with new life.
How has he done this? First, Horton clearly writes from a position as one who understands the 21st century and the monumental changes we are seeing that are often categorized as the transition from modernity to postmodernity. Horton also draws from a wide range of sources: he not only delves into the historical background to various theological issues but also makes reference to a variety of church traditions, and not just his own Reformed tradition. He also manages to integrate his systematic theology into a living whole by the way he ties everything together through key concepts such as the covenant, Drama, Dogma, Doxology, and Discipleship. This means that Horton's work is useful not just as one more systematic theology but also as a primer in narrative theology, an inspiration to worship, and a resource for all who seek to be more faithful disciples of Jesus Christ.
Horton's work has been said by some to be one of the most important systematic theologies since Berkhof's. In fact, Horton's is better than Berkhof's, which is a work that betrays a much more modern mindset that categorizes things without necessarily showing how they all relate. Horton's work is a book that should be in the hands of a great many Christians!
The book begins with a wonderful Introduction that pictures systematic theology as a "theology for pilgrims on the way." He also relates the 4 "D" words he will use in the rest of the work to hold things together: Drama, Doctrine, Doxology, and Discipleship. It all begins with the greatest story ever told, which means that Horton is aware of the importance of narrative theology, and not just an old-school propositional theology. The Drama of the gospel inevitably leads to Doctrine, and Doctrine leads to Doxology or praise. Ultimately, theology must lead to Discipleship as well. Horton wants his work to reflect and embody the goal of doctrine, which must not only be understood and articulated but also "preached, experienced, and lived as a `community of theater' in the world today."
Horton writes from a specifically Reformed perspective, but he is careful not to begin and end his thought with only Reformed categories of thought. Instead, he interacts with exegetical, philosophical, practical, and theological questions from a historically informed position. I'm also glad to see that he has not only acknowledged Eastern Orthodox theology but has clearly benefited from its wisdom and perspective.
Part 1, which consists of the first 5 chapters of "The Christian Faith," deals with "Knowing God: The Presuppositions of Theology." Although these chapters don't begin Horton's systematic theology, they lay a crucial foundation for it. This section may be difficult and not as relevant for all readers, but in these chapters Horton profitably deals with important foundations for theology, which has become more necessary in an age of postmodernism.
It's always interesting to see how a writer handles some of the more difficult aspects of his material, so I was keen to see how Horton dealt with predestination, the Trinity, and the Church, as just three examples of important material. In Chapter 8, Horton tackles the doctrine of the Trinity, which has undergone a resurgence of interest in recent decades. In this chapter, he gives the important and necessary historical background that enables the reader to understand the various views of the Trinity that have been held. This historical background also enables Horton to offer a theology of the Trinity that integrates the best insights of Augustinian, Orthodox, and other views while avoiding some of the potential errors that come from an overemphasis these historical positions are often open to.
While Horton's discussion of predestination in Chapter 9 is useful, he fails to adequately explain how God's predestination relates to the need for human agency in doxology and discipleship (he does deal with this, but inadequately). Likewise, I found his presentation on the Church to be one of the places where Horton's own Reformed perspective triumphs over an attempt at incorporating other views. The book would have been stronger if, in this section, he had dealt more with the views of the early church, as well as the views of other traditions, as he does elsewhere.
In spite of some weaknesses, Horton's work is a superior and delightful achievement. Through his use of the covenant, he's able to integrate the various components of systematic theology into a pleasing whole that should become a standard work for decades to come.
Horton breaks down his book in the following way, which manages to reflect the traditional categories of systematic theology while at the same time revitalizing this field.
Part 1 - Knowing God: The Presupposition of Theology
1. Dissonant Dramas: Paradigms for Knowing God and the World
2. The Character of Theology
3. The Source of Theology: Scripture
4. Scripture as Covenant Canon
5. The Bible and the Church: From Scripture to System
Part 2 - God Who Lives
6. God: The Incommunicable Attributes
7. God: The Communicable Attributes
8. The Holy Trinity
Part 3 - God Who Creates
9. The Decree: Trinity and Predestination
10. Creation: God's Time for us
11. Providence
12. Being Human
13. The Fall of Humanity
Part 4 - God Who Rescues
14. The Person of Christ
15. The State of Humiliation
16. The State of Exaltation
Part 5 - God Who Reigns in Grace
17. Called to be Saints: Christ's Presence in the Spirit
18. Union with Christ
19. Forensic Aspects of Union with Christ: Justification and Adoption
20. The Way Forward to Grace: Sanctification and Perseverance
21. The Hope of Glory
22. The Kingdom of Grace and the New Covenant Church
23. Word and Sacrament: The Means of Grace
24. Baptism and the Lord's Supper
25. The Attributes of the Church: Unity, Catholicity, and Holiness
26. Apostolicity
Part 6 - God Who Reigns in Glory
27. A Dwelling Place
28. The Return of Christ and the Last Judgment
29. The Last Battle and Life Everlasting
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Agony of the Health & Wealth Gospel #1: Historical Roots of This False Religion
One hour long. Worth hearing re: Pentecostalists.
Dr. Michael Horton discusses heretical TV preachers such as Benny Hinn, Kenneth Copeland, Paul Crouch, Kenneth Hagin, Robert Tilton, Peter Popoff, Jimmy Swaggart, John Avanzini, and a host of others. Horton is the editor of the book, the "Agony of Deceit.
Dr. Michael Horton discusses heretical TV preachers such as Benny Hinn, Kenneth Copeland, Paul Crouch, Kenneth Hagin, Robert Tilton, Peter Popoff, Jimmy Swaggart, John Avanzini, and a host of others. Horton is the editor of the book, the "Agony of Deceit" which is co-authored by Dr. Walter Martin, Dr. R.C. Sproul, Joel Nederhood, C. Everett Coop, Art Lindsley, and others. Dr. Walter Martin has been a frequent guest on the John Ankerberg show and is the founder of the Christian Research Institute. Part 1
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Dr. Michael Horton’s “Power Religion," Third Wave Pentecostalism, and Classical Christianity, 61-88
http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?topic=16128&post=95073&uid=308173344359#post95073
1. Dr. Michael Horton’s “Power Religion” (Chicago, IL: Moody Press, 1992). An essay by John Armstrong enttiled “In Search of Spiritual Power,” 61-88. A soft critique by a Baptist without exegetical, theological or confessional depth, Rev. Armstrong nonetheless offers interesting notes on Third Wave Pentecostals. Quite poorly, Armstrong is not anti-charismatic we are told. We are surprised by Dr. Horton's inclusion of Rev. Armstrong. We'll chalk it up to youth. This book is near 20 years old. Things have become worse.
2. The first wave: original Pentecostals in the early 20th century. The second wave: the charismatic movement of the 1960-1970’s. The third wave: the signs and wonders movement. Their dogmatic and eclipsing focus is “power healings,” “demonic deliverances,” and “words of knowledge” as immediate revelations. The third wavers require affirmation of a pro-Pentecostal worldview. TBN bills and advertises these three movements as their history.
3. The “Vineyard Movement” was a part of this as advanced by Peter Wagner, John Wimber, Kansas City Prophets, John Paul Jackson, Jack Deere (former Professor, Dallas Seminary), Paul Cain, and Bob Jones.
4. For the third wave Pentecostals: (1) The miracles in Jesus’ day are normative which Wimber calls the “calling cards of the kingdom.” John Wimber and Kevin Springer, “Power Evangelism” (San Fransisco, CA: Harper & Row, 1986), 109. (2) There are fits of holy laughing, shaking, extreme terror, visions, being drunk and slain in the spirit, barkings and other things associated with revivalism. (3) Healing and prophecy are learned, teachable and reproducible techniques. (4) The insufficiency of Scripture for doctrine, worship and piety. (5) The by-passing, suspension, and avoidance of critical thinking. Such is equated with “unbelief.” (6) The by-passing, suspension, and avoidance of the Gospel with signs, wonders, and conversions for those apart from and without the Gospel. (7) The radical Arminianism. (8) Pragmatism without the Bible. (9) Anecodotal rather than Biblical theology. (9) Uncontrolled, undisciplined, uncritical, and uninformed exegesis, theology, confessions, liturgies or histories inform the movement, it's thinking, worship or piety. It is chaotic and has opened itself, ministries and followers to demonic influence and governance.
5. Pentecostalism is a neo-Montanist movement. Third Wavers are mere extensions of the first two waves of enthusiasts, ignoramuses, and utopians. No peace and no truces can be made with these opponents of Biblical Christianity.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Moral, Therapeutic Deism by Dr. Horton
http://theresurgence.com/what-is-moralistic-therapeutic-deism
Dr. Michael Horton on moral, therapeutic deism.
What We Should Learn From the Mainline Denominations
What We Should Learn From the Mainline Denominations | TheResurgence
An video interview with Dr. Michael Horton, a Reformed scholar, author, and professor.
Michael Horton says that “evangelicalism is out-liberaling liberalism.” In this clip, he explains why, and what we should learn from the mistakes and successes of mainline denominations.
In this interview series, Mars Hill PR Director Nick Bogardus interviews Dr. Michael Horton. For more information and resources from Dr. Horton, check out White Horse Inn.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Doster Interviews Dr. Horton on "Christless Christianity"
http://byfaithonline.com/page/in-the-church/drifting-into-christless-christianity
In the Church
Drifting Into Christless Christianity
Richard Doster, Issue Number 25, October 2009
Questioner: The title of the book is a pretty jarring oxymoron. What, exactly, is “Christless Christianity”?
Horton: First of all, it is not a claim that all the churches in America are Christless. It’s certainly not a claim that we have reached a point where Christ is no longer being preached. Rather, it’s motivated by a concern that there’s this creeping fog of what sociologist Christian Smith called “moralistic-therapeutic-deism.” This has turned God into a tool we can use rather than the object of our faith and worship. I’m concerned that the gospel is being taken for granted, that Christ is a sort of life coach, but not the Savior. With the general shallowing within the culture, there is a shallowing of Christian faith and practice. We don’t really know what we believe and why we believe it.
Questioner: A lot of byFaith readers are thinking to themselves: “That’s not my church.” Are they naïve or blessed?
Horton: Well, [chuckles] I’ve been in PCA churches and United Reformed Churches [Horton’s denomination] where I have heard Christless Christianity. I’m not saying that I’d expect that every week, but I have heard sermons that have had Christ in the text—or at least by implication pointed forward to Christ—yet the text was treated in a moralistic-therapeutic way. That’s why I argue that this isn’t an indictment from a fire-breathing Reformed Christian against Arminians or Roman Catholics or Southern Baptists. This is a concern I have because I’ve experienced it in our circles. It’s not because we’re tolerating heresy, but I think it’s easy to take the gospel for granted, to say, “Okay, let’s move on to something more interesting or more relevant.”
For Further Discussion
Questioner: What do you make of the idea that we’ve turned God into a tool rather than the object of our worship? Into a life coach, but not Savior.Have you heard this in sermons/lessons? Have you read it in books?Are we discerning enough in our hearing and reading? For people who are in churches where Christ is faithfully preached, what’s the take-away? What do you want them to do with the information you present?
Horton: First of all, to fall down on their knees in gratitude for being in churches where Christ and Him crucified is the rallying cry, where that message is never taken for granted, where it’s always explored from Genesis through Revelation.
But I’m also hearing from a lot of people—pastors, for example, in very sound churches—who have said: “It’s helpful to know why I hear sermons preached with a non-Christo-centric focus. It helps to explain why sometimes my own preaching isn’t as Christ-focused as it could be.”
We need to be asking the question—when it comes to outreach, evangelism, worship, the songs we sing, the visitation we do, even diaconal ministries: How is Christ being delivered to sinners—even lifelong Christian sinners—in this time and place?
Asking that question, I think, is critical.
Questioner: And so, we can’t envision a sermon that wouldn’t be predicated on some facet of the gospel?
Right. Which means our preaching needs to be expository. If, as Jesus said, all the Scriptures proclaim Him, then we should be looking for Christ in every passage. We should expect that He’ll be placarded before us.
It makes a big difference if we go to the Bible looking for tips or for “our best life now” or for advice on child rearing, marriage, success in life … . Or, if we go to find Jesus Christ. If we go to find Christ, who is the wisdom of God, then all the wisdom on other matters—marriage, parenting, covenantal life—it finds its proper coordinates in Him.
Questioner: Switching gears, I wanted to talk about God’s holiness, righteousness, and justice. In the book you cite sermons that “treat God exclusively as the extravagant lover” without reference to these other attributes. Later, you mention a recurring emphasis in sermons that “lost” no longer means “damned,” that sermons intended to be compassionate are actually cruel. Can you elaborate?
Horton: I got this idea from an Episcopal bishop, C. Fitzsimons Allison, who argues that it’s actually pastoral cruelty to dress the wound of God’s people as though it were not serious. It’s actually pastoral cruelty when people are struggling with guilt to tell them they shouldn’t feel guilty. It’s pastoral cruelty to hide from them the actual force of that guilt so that it can be addressed.
That’s the wonderful thing about the law and the gospel. The law isn’t just a set of helpful instructions; the law comes to me first of all to strip me of my pretense of righteousness so that the gospel can clothe me in the righteousness of Christ. To summarize Paul’s argument in Romans: If the law hadn’t come along and stripped me naked, then I would have never fled to Christ to be clothed by Him. So we should be grateful when that traumatic experience occurs—of us realizing that we’re helpless, damned, under the wrath of God—because that’s what makes us flee to the hills to Jesus Christ.
I remember a couple of years ago, with the wildfires in San Diego, hearing reports that the fires were getting closer. They got so close that the fire department told us to evacuate. We moved from thinking, “Oh, we can handle this” to “Head for the hills!” The firemen weren’t being mean; they weren’t being intrusive. They were rendering a service, and because they did we were safe.
The problem, I think, is that a lot of pastors, a lot of Christian laypeople who talk to their non-Christian friends do believe, deep down, that there is a judgment to come. But in this culture we have been taught to take this life and our happiness more seriously than we take God and His holiness. Therefore, we look for a god who is usable rather than the God who is actually there.
We need the holiness of God to restore our sense of wonder, and a proper sense of fear in His presence so that we do not presume that we can stand in His presence apart from Christ.
For Further Discussion
Questioner: How do you react to the idea that it’s cruel to shield people from the force of their guilt? Do we take God’s holiness seriously enough? Do we properly share that part of His character? Or are we too concerned about “this life” and “our happiness”? Are we too concerned that people will be offended? Why do we shy away from this part of the conversation?
Horton: Part of the problem is our history. It’s not that people deny it. If you ask them outright, “Do you believe in hell?” most people in conservative, Reformed circles would say, “Of course I believe in hell.”
But we’ve had one generation of really bad preaching on hell: the hellfire and brimstone caricature which was a superficial view of sin as taboos: parties, drinking, smoking, dancing … . I think of Saturday Night Live’s church lady as a mascot for that generation—a kind of judgmental moralism—always wagging a finger.
A whole bunch of people my age were raised on that kind of scolding, which really isn’t a biblical view of sin or of God’s holiness. It’s a fear of hell, not a fear of God. It’s sin defined as breaking taboos, not as an offense against a holy God.
Then you had a whole generation that said: “If we come back to your church you better stop being mean; you’ve got to stop pointing your finger at us.”
This is a shift from Saturday Night Live’s church lady to Saturday Night Live’s Stuart Smalley, who comes along with his pink sweater and says, “You’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and doggone it, people like you.” Now [we’re using] warm, affirming tones. We’re adding a soothing sampler of conservative craving for virtue along with a New Age longing for peace of mind.
These all converge as Muzak in the background. Both are atrocious forms of both the law and the gospel.
Questioner: So how does an evangelical church present God accurately to someone who doesn’t know Him?
Horton: First of all, we can’t put all of the weight on the sermon. The sermon is the most important part of the service, but we have to see the Word of God as communicated not only through the sermon but through the singing, liturgy, prayer, and sacraments.
Paul speaks of the Word of Christ as dwelling in us richly through singing. Children often learn the faith more by singing than in Sunday school. Do the songs we sing cause the Word of Christ to dwell in us richly?
Is the liturgy moving us from confession of sin and a declaration of forgiveness to corporate prayer, to the reading of Scripture, to preaching, and the Lord’s table? Are these things regular aspects of our worship, or do we focus more on what we do than on what God does in the service?
There are a lot of well-meaning folks who say—and they’re speaking against the consumer-driven worship service—that worship is about what we do for God; we’re serving Him; we’re the ones worshiping. And I want to say to them: It’s not that we’re consumers, but we’re not worker bees either. It’s better than that. It’s better than we could have ever imagined. The God of all the universe—who looks after the movement of the planets—became flesh for us, not to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.
People may be startled at the concept that we’re the ones being served on Sunday.
Paul says in Romans 10 that there are two kinds of messages: There is the “righteousness by works” message. This asks how can we go up to heaven and pull God down? Or how can I descend into the depths to pull Christ up from the dead?
But the righteousness which is by faith recognizes that Christ’s presence doesn’t depend on our cleverness or activity. He is present by His Word. God comes down to us; there’s a logic in Romans 10 where Paul says that faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of Christ.
So how will they hear without a preacher? How will he preach unless he is sent? God is sending news from the battlefield—not only has He has accomplished victory, He is sending runners. He’s not saying, “Okay, I did my part, and now you finish the job." He is sending heralds to tell us the good news. And by this good news the Holy Spirit regenerates us, brings us to saving faith and repentance, and keeps us in that faith.
So we come to church, first of all, to be served. And only those who are served can serve. So if we have, as we do now, a situation where the sheep are expected to be shepherds, and where every member is supposed to find a ministry, then, when people walk into church they get a shopping list of things to do. When they sit down and hear a sermon, there’s another shopping list of things to do.
We end up harming the church in two ways. (1) People aren’t really saturated with the gospel, so they dry up on the vine. (2) We don’t get them out into the world. We keep them cooped up in the church where their good works are only serving other Christians. I love the line from Martin Luther. He was asked what’s the place of good works if all is of grace. Luther replied, "God doesn’t need your good works, your neighbor does."
God is circulating His gifts in the world to us and then through us for our neighbors. But we’re damming up that movement by trying to send our gifts up to God when He wants to send His gifts down to us, and then out to the world.
For Further Discussion
Questioner: What do you think about the idea that God serves us on Sunday morning? Does this strike you as odd? Does it make you a little nervous? If we’re the ones receiving on Sunday, what are the implications for us on Monday?
Horton: Changing the subject again, I’d like you to talk about the “narrow mandate” of the Church. What is it, precisely, that the Church is supposed to do?
There’s a distinction that I think is so important for us to make between the Church as the people of God, and church as a place where people come. In other words, if this feeding is going on—this serving of the Lord’s, then [the people] will become robust witnesses who go out into the world.
The Great Commission and caring for the physical and spiritual welfare of the saints—that’s all that the Church is commissioned by Christ to do.
But Christians—the Church as people—in that sense the Church is called to be parents, husbands, wives, children, doctors, lawyers—you name it. We’re all called to work alongside non-Christians, to make a good shoe and sell it at a fair price, to provide service to our neighbors who need us.
Questioner: When Reformed people hear that the Church’s narrow mandate is to proclaim the good news the first reaction may be: Sure, but we need to make mature disciples, we want to be theologically deep people. How, within this narrow mandate, do we grow people spiritually?
Horton: This is going to come as counter-intuitive to a lot of us, but it’s really found there in our confessions. We say that a true church can be found wherever the Word is rightly preached, the sacraments are rightly administered, and there is church discipline. That’s the narrow mandate I’m talking about. If you ask a lot of people today—even Presbyterian and Reformed people—they’d say “to transform the world, to transform business, to transform the arts and sciences, politics.” But that makes everything about us, not about God and His drama of redemption. How do you know where a church is alive and present in this world? How is Christ’s kingdom made visible through the Church? It’s where there’s faithful preaching, faithful administration of the sacraments, and faithful care of the spiritual lives of the members.
Richard Doster is the editor of byFaith. He is also the author of two novels, Safe at Home (2008) and Crossing the Lines, both published by David C. Cook Publishers.
In the Church
Drifting Into Christless Christianity
Richard Doster, Issue Number 25, October 2009
Questioner: The title of the book is a pretty jarring oxymoron. What, exactly, is “Christless Christianity”?
Horton: First of all, it is not a claim that all the churches in America are Christless. It’s certainly not a claim that we have reached a point where Christ is no longer being preached. Rather, it’s motivated by a concern that there’s this creeping fog of what sociologist Christian Smith called “moralistic-therapeutic-deism.” This has turned God into a tool we can use rather than the object of our faith and worship. I’m concerned that the gospel is being taken for granted, that Christ is a sort of life coach, but not the Savior. With the general shallowing within the culture, there is a shallowing of Christian faith and practice. We don’t really know what we believe and why we believe it.
Questioner: A lot of byFaith readers are thinking to themselves: “That’s not my church.” Are they naïve or blessed?
Horton: Well, [chuckles] I’ve been in PCA churches and United Reformed Churches [Horton’s denomination] where I have heard Christless Christianity. I’m not saying that I’d expect that every week, but I have heard sermons that have had Christ in the text—or at least by implication pointed forward to Christ—yet the text was treated in a moralistic-therapeutic way. That’s why I argue that this isn’t an indictment from a fire-breathing Reformed Christian against Arminians or Roman Catholics or Southern Baptists. This is a concern I have because I’ve experienced it in our circles. It’s not because we’re tolerating heresy, but I think it’s easy to take the gospel for granted, to say, “Okay, let’s move on to something more interesting or more relevant.”
For Further Discussion
Questioner: What do you make of the idea that we’ve turned God into a tool rather than the object of our worship? Into a life coach, but not Savior.Have you heard this in sermons/lessons? Have you read it in books?Are we discerning enough in our hearing and reading? For people who are in churches where Christ is faithfully preached, what’s the take-away? What do you want them to do with the information you present?
Horton: First of all, to fall down on their knees in gratitude for being in churches where Christ and Him crucified is the rallying cry, where that message is never taken for granted, where it’s always explored from Genesis through Revelation.
But I’m also hearing from a lot of people—pastors, for example, in very sound churches—who have said: “It’s helpful to know why I hear sermons preached with a non-Christo-centric focus. It helps to explain why sometimes my own preaching isn’t as Christ-focused as it could be.”
We need to be asking the question—when it comes to outreach, evangelism, worship, the songs we sing, the visitation we do, even diaconal ministries: How is Christ being delivered to sinners—even lifelong Christian sinners—in this time and place?
Asking that question, I think, is critical.
Questioner: And so, we can’t envision a sermon that wouldn’t be predicated on some facet of the gospel?
Right. Which means our preaching needs to be expository. If, as Jesus said, all the Scriptures proclaim Him, then we should be looking for Christ in every passage. We should expect that He’ll be placarded before us.
It makes a big difference if we go to the Bible looking for tips or for “our best life now” or for advice on child rearing, marriage, success in life … . Or, if we go to find Jesus Christ. If we go to find Christ, who is the wisdom of God, then all the wisdom on other matters—marriage, parenting, covenantal life—it finds its proper coordinates in Him.
Questioner: Switching gears, I wanted to talk about God’s holiness, righteousness, and justice. In the book you cite sermons that “treat God exclusively as the extravagant lover” without reference to these other attributes. Later, you mention a recurring emphasis in sermons that “lost” no longer means “damned,” that sermons intended to be compassionate are actually cruel. Can you elaborate?
Horton: I got this idea from an Episcopal bishop, C. Fitzsimons Allison, who argues that it’s actually pastoral cruelty to dress the wound of God’s people as though it were not serious. It’s actually pastoral cruelty when people are struggling with guilt to tell them they shouldn’t feel guilty. It’s pastoral cruelty to hide from them the actual force of that guilt so that it can be addressed.
That’s the wonderful thing about the law and the gospel. The law isn’t just a set of helpful instructions; the law comes to me first of all to strip me of my pretense of righteousness so that the gospel can clothe me in the righteousness of Christ. To summarize Paul’s argument in Romans: If the law hadn’t come along and stripped me naked, then I would have never fled to Christ to be clothed by Him. So we should be grateful when that traumatic experience occurs—of us realizing that we’re helpless, damned, under the wrath of God—because that’s what makes us flee to the hills to Jesus Christ.
I remember a couple of years ago, with the wildfires in San Diego, hearing reports that the fires were getting closer. They got so close that the fire department told us to evacuate. We moved from thinking, “Oh, we can handle this” to “Head for the hills!” The firemen weren’t being mean; they weren’t being intrusive. They were rendering a service, and because they did we were safe.
The problem, I think, is that a lot of pastors, a lot of Christian laypeople who talk to their non-Christian friends do believe, deep down, that there is a judgment to come. But in this culture we have been taught to take this life and our happiness more seriously than we take God and His holiness. Therefore, we look for a god who is usable rather than the God who is actually there.
We need the holiness of God to restore our sense of wonder, and a proper sense of fear in His presence so that we do not presume that we can stand in His presence apart from Christ.
For Further Discussion
Questioner: How do you react to the idea that it’s cruel to shield people from the force of their guilt? Do we take God’s holiness seriously enough? Do we properly share that part of His character? Or are we too concerned about “this life” and “our happiness”? Are we too concerned that people will be offended? Why do we shy away from this part of the conversation?
Horton: Part of the problem is our history. It’s not that people deny it. If you ask them outright, “Do you believe in hell?” most people in conservative, Reformed circles would say, “Of course I believe in hell.”
But we’ve had one generation of really bad preaching on hell: the hellfire and brimstone caricature which was a superficial view of sin as taboos: parties, drinking, smoking, dancing … . I think of Saturday Night Live’s church lady as a mascot for that generation—a kind of judgmental moralism—always wagging a finger.
A whole bunch of people my age were raised on that kind of scolding, which really isn’t a biblical view of sin or of God’s holiness. It’s a fear of hell, not a fear of God. It’s sin defined as breaking taboos, not as an offense against a holy God.
Then you had a whole generation that said: “If we come back to your church you better stop being mean; you’ve got to stop pointing your finger at us.”
This is a shift from Saturday Night Live’s church lady to Saturday Night Live’s Stuart Smalley, who comes along with his pink sweater and says, “You’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and doggone it, people like you.” Now [we’re using] warm, affirming tones. We’re adding a soothing sampler of conservative craving for virtue along with a New Age longing for peace of mind.
These all converge as Muzak in the background. Both are atrocious forms of both the law and the gospel.
Questioner: So how does an evangelical church present God accurately to someone who doesn’t know Him?
Horton: First of all, we can’t put all of the weight on the sermon. The sermon is the most important part of the service, but we have to see the Word of God as communicated not only through the sermon but through the singing, liturgy, prayer, and sacraments.
Paul speaks of the Word of Christ as dwelling in us richly through singing. Children often learn the faith more by singing than in Sunday school. Do the songs we sing cause the Word of Christ to dwell in us richly?
Is the liturgy moving us from confession of sin and a declaration of forgiveness to corporate prayer, to the reading of Scripture, to preaching, and the Lord’s table? Are these things regular aspects of our worship, or do we focus more on what we do than on what God does in the service?
There are a lot of well-meaning folks who say—and they’re speaking against the consumer-driven worship service—that worship is about what we do for God; we’re serving Him; we’re the ones worshiping. And I want to say to them: It’s not that we’re consumers, but we’re not worker bees either. It’s better than that. It’s better than we could have ever imagined. The God of all the universe—who looks after the movement of the planets—became flesh for us, not to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many.
People may be startled at the concept that we’re the ones being served on Sunday.
Paul says in Romans 10 that there are two kinds of messages: There is the “righteousness by works” message. This asks how can we go up to heaven and pull God down? Or how can I descend into the depths to pull Christ up from the dead?
But the righteousness which is by faith recognizes that Christ’s presence doesn’t depend on our cleverness or activity. He is present by His Word. God comes down to us; there’s a logic in Romans 10 where Paul says that faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of Christ.
So how will they hear without a preacher? How will he preach unless he is sent? God is sending news from the battlefield—not only has He has accomplished victory, He is sending runners. He’s not saying, “Okay, I did my part, and now you finish the job." He is sending heralds to tell us the good news. And by this good news the Holy Spirit regenerates us, brings us to saving faith and repentance, and keeps us in that faith.
So we come to church, first of all, to be served. And only those who are served can serve. So if we have, as we do now, a situation where the sheep are expected to be shepherds, and where every member is supposed to find a ministry, then, when people walk into church they get a shopping list of things to do. When they sit down and hear a sermon, there’s another shopping list of things to do.
We end up harming the church in two ways. (1) People aren’t really saturated with the gospel, so they dry up on the vine. (2) We don’t get them out into the world. We keep them cooped up in the church where their good works are only serving other Christians. I love the line from Martin Luther. He was asked what’s the place of good works if all is of grace. Luther replied, "God doesn’t need your good works, your neighbor does."
God is circulating His gifts in the world to us and then through us for our neighbors. But we’re damming up that movement by trying to send our gifts up to God when He wants to send His gifts down to us, and then out to the world.
For Further Discussion
Questioner: What do you think about the idea that God serves us on Sunday morning? Does this strike you as odd? Does it make you a little nervous? If we’re the ones receiving on Sunday, what are the implications for us on Monday?
Horton: Changing the subject again, I’d like you to talk about the “narrow mandate” of the Church. What is it, precisely, that the Church is supposed to do?
There’s a distinction that I think is so important for us to make between the Church as the people of God, and church as a place where people come. In other words, if this feeding is going on—this serving of the Lord’s, then [the people] will become robust witnesses who go out into the world.
The Great Commission and caring for the physical and spiritual welfare of the saints—that’s all that the Church is commissioned by Christ to do.
But Christians—the Church as people—in that sense the Church is called to be parents, husbands, wives, children, doctors, lawyers—you name it. We’re all called to work alongside non-Christians, to make a good shoe and sell it at a fair price, to provide service to our neighbors who need us.
Questioner: When Reformed people hear that the Church’s narrow mandate is to proclaim the good news the first reaction may be: Sure, but we need to make mature disciples, we want to be theologically deep people. How, within this narrow mandate, do we grow people spiritually?
Horton: This is going to come as counter-intuitive to a lot of us, but it’s really found there in our confessions. We say that a true church can be found wherever the Word is rightly preached, the sacraments are rightly administered, and there is church discipline. That’s the narrow mandate I’m talking about. If you ask a lot of people today—even Presbyterian and Reformed people—they’d say “to transform the world, to transform business, to transform the arts and sciences, politics.” But that makes everything about us, not about God and His drama of redemption. How do you know where a church is alive and present in this world? How is Christ’s kingdom made visible through the Church? It’s where there’s faithful preaching, faithful administration of the sacraments, and faithful care of the spiritual lives of the members.
Richard Doster is the editor of byFaith. He is also the author of two novels, Safe at Home (2008) and Crossing the Lines, both published by David C. Cook Publishers.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
More on the Frame-Horton Debate
A very helpful debate is ongoing in the Reformed world. It entails discussions about Confessional Lutheran and Reformed views on the uses of the law, preaching of the Gospel, and the state of wider evangelicalism. We realize that Anglicans just aren't up to the levels of exchanges that are occurring, simply because they have no interest or serious backgrounds in the Reformation---speaking widely. Virtue enthused with Dr. Horton on White Horse Inn over the book, Christless Christianity, but he's not highly regarded here. On the other hand, on the same program, Bishop Fitzsimmons Allison, endorsed the book--his opinion we value highly.
http://puritanreformed.blogspot.com/2009/10/on-frames-review-of-hortons-book.html
When I was first directed to Frame's review through the article on Gospel-centered Legalism (ie a totally different topic), I was rather stunned by the review. Having owned and read Horton's book Christless Christianity, Frame's review was the worst misrepresentation of a single book I have ever seen. The most ludicrous part was when Frame semi-defended Joel Osteen (?!) against Horton's charges. Osteen is a Word-faith heretic, and Frame who is supposed to be Reformed defends a wolf against Horton? Amazing!
The state of the Church in general was another point where I just have to shake my head in amazement. Which planet is Prof. Frame living on? The "Ivory Tower" planet? It most definitely is not earth! America is awash with heresy as the Emerging Church movement, the Word-faith cult, and the Contemplative Spirituality nonsense is destroying the faith of many, yet according to him, the Church is still doing fine and "There is a greater interest in sanctification (not just justification), on Christianity as a world view, on believers’ obligations to one another, on love within the body of Christ, and in the implications of Scripture for social justice"? Even discounting America (which has a really bad habit of thinking they are the center of the world), the rest of the world is in really bad shape. But let us go back to America. What about the heresy of Federal Vision and Neolegalism wrecking havoc in Reformed and Presbyterian circles? Oh wait, Frame defended the heretic Norman Shepherd while he was still in WTS.
In their response to Frame, the White Horse Inn staff Eric Landry has picked the 10 points with which Frame accuses Horton of teaching, and refutes them all. I think it would be instrumental to just let Landry speak in this regard here (Dark Red Italics refer to Frame's points).
1. Attention to ourselves necessarily detracts from attention to Christ.
No, it can detract from Christ. But it does not necessarily detract from Christ. When it comes to the gospel, “we preach not ourselves, but Christ,” because the gospel is not about us at all. Confusion over this matter does detract from Christ. However, the good news about Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection has implications on the way we live, and so we must give some attention to ourselves as we let the light of the gospel shine in every dark corner, which challenges us to rethink our actions, self-centeredness, etc.
2. We should not give attention to the way we communicate the gospel, or to making it relevant to its hearers.
3. God’s sovereignty and human responsibility are a zero-sum game. The idea that man must do something compromises the absolute sovereignty of God.
This is an outright misrepresentation and we’re disappointed that Professor Frame should characterize Horton’s theology in this way. He is not a hyper-Calvinist and nothing in Christless Christianity or anything else that he has written bears this out.
4. God’s work of salvation is completely objective, external to us, and not at all subjective, internal to us. (Here he backtracks some.)
http://puritanreformed.blogspot.com/2009/10/on-frames-review-of-hortons-book.htmlSunday, October 25, 2009
On Frame's review of Horton's book
The Reformed blogosphere is (or was) abuzzed it seems with Prof. John Frame's review of Prof. Michael Horton's book Christless Christianity. Frame's review has been answered by Darryl G. Hart, Kim Riddlebarger, R. Scott Clark, and the staff of the White Horse Inn. My friend Stephen Macasil has entered the fray also with his latest blog post, which attempts to go deeper and interact with the topics raised.
On Frame's review of Horton's book
The Reformed blogosphere is (or was) abuzzed it seems with Prof. John Frame's review of Prof. Michael Horton's book Christless Christianity. Frame's review has been answered by Darryl G. Hart, Kim Riddlebarger, R. Scott Clark, and the staff of the White Horse Inn. My friend Stephen Macasil has entered the fray also with his latest blog post, which attempts to go deeper and interact with the topics raised.
When I was first directed to Frame's review through the article on Gospel-centered Legalism (ie a totally different topic), I was rather stunned by the review. Having owned and read Horton's book Christless Christianity, Frame's review was the worst misrepresentation of a single book I have ever seen. The most ludicrous part was when Frame semi-defended Joel Osteen (?!) against Horton's charges. Osteen is a Word-faith heretic, and Frame who is supposed to be Reformed defends a wolf against Horton? Amazing!
The state of the Church in general was another point where I just have to shake my head in amazement. Which planet is Prof. Frame living on? The "Ivory Tower" planet? It most definitely is not earth! America is awash with heresy as the Emerging Church movement, the Word-faith cult, and the Contemplative Spirituality nonsense is destroying the faith of many, yet according to him, the Church is still doing fine and "There is a greater interest in sanctification (not just justification), on Christianity as a world view, on believers’ obligations to one another, on love within the body of Christ, and in the implications of Scripture for social justice"? Even discounting America (which has a really bad habit of thinking they are the center of the world), the rest of the world is in really bad shape. But let us go back to America. What about the heresy of Federal Vision and Neolegalism wrecking havoc in Reformed and Presbyterian circles? Oh wait, Frame defended the heretic Norman Shepherd while he was still in WTS.
In their response to Frame, the White Horse Inn staff Eric Landry has picked the 10 points with which Frame accuses Horton of teaching, and refutes them all. I think it would be instrumental to just let Landry speak in this regard here (Dark Red Italics refer to Frame's points).
1. Attention to ourselves necessarily detracts from attention to Christ.
No, it can detract from Christ. But it does not necessarily detract from Christ. When it comes to the gospel, “we preach not ourselves, but Christ,” because the gospel is not about us at all. Confusion over this matter does detract from Christ. However, the good news about Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection has implications on the way we live, and so we must give some attention to ourselves as we let the light of the gospel shine in every dark corner, which challenges us to rethink our actions, self-centeredness, etc.
2. We should not give attention to the way we communicate the gospel, or to making it relevant to its hearers.
Relevance and context are clearly different than pragmatism. To which has the evangelical church at large given itself?
3. God’s sovereignty and human responsibility are a zero-sum game. The idea that man must do something compromises the absolute sovereignty of God.
This is an outright misrepresentation and we’re disappointed that Professor Frame should characterize Horton’s theology in this way. He is not a hyper-Calvinist and nothing in Christless Christianity or anything else that he has written bears this out.
4. God’s work of salvation is completely objective, external to us, and not at all subjective, internal to us. (Here he backtracks some.)
This is another caricature. Horton’s argument is that the gospel is completely objective and external to us: it’s the Good News about Christ’s person and work. However, Horton clearly says that God’s work of salvation includes regeneration and sanctification. The Spirit applies the redemption that the gospel announces.
5. God promises us no earthly blessings, only heavenly ones, and to desire earthly blessings is a “theology of glory,” deserving condemnation.
Horton’s critique is that we are trying to use God to attain our best life now, rather than to see God as the object of our faith and worship, for “every blessing in heavenly realms in Christ” (Eph 1:3-4). Lost in exaggeration, Frame’s caricature of this argument misses the point.
6. Law and gospel should be utterly separate. There should be no good news in the bad news and no bad news in the good news.
This is a longstanding complaint by Frame. Not only does he consistently misrepresent the Lutheran view on this point; he seems to be unaware of the consensus of Reformed theologians that the confusion of law and gospel is the heart of theological errors. This point has been made not only by Calvin, but by Beza, Ursinus, Perkins, Owen, and Spurgeon all the way to Louis Berkhof and John Murray. In Christless Christianity (and elsewhere), Horton very clearly affirms that law and gospel are to be distinguished but never separated. The one thing that Professor Frame accurately says about the book on this point is that “There should be no good news in the bad news and no bad news in the good news.” That’s why the law reveals our sin and misery (as the Heidelberg Catechism and Westminster Shorter Catechism confess), and the gospel reveals God’s saving grace toward us in Jesus Christ. One should be far less bothered that Professor Frame is confused about Christless Christianity than that he seems confused about the difference between commands (imperatives) and declarations of God’s promises (indicatives).
7. Preaching of the gospel must never use biblical characters as moral or spiritual examples. Nor must it address practical ethical issues in the Christian life.
Of course there are moral examples in Scripture, and Horton affirms this in his book; the point is that the Bible is to be read as an unfolding story of redemption, with Christ as the hero. All we ask is that if you use a character as a moral or spiritual example, be sure to include not just the exemplary things that he or she did but also the tragic sins that made it necessary for even a “friend of God” or a “man after God’s own heart” to look forward to a Redeemer. Don’t stop with the example, look to where the example actually points: to Jesus Christ. And ground your practical ethical issues in the new creation, just as the New Testament writers do. For more on the relationship between doctrine and ethics, see Horton’s People and Place.
8. A focus on redemption excludes a focus on anything else.
This is baffling. Is Frame intentionally misrepresenting the book or is he unable to read the book without even a modicum of Christian charity? Stunning.
9. In worship and in the general ministry of the church, God gives and does not receive; the congregation receives and does not give.
Read Horton’s A Better Way for a substantive rebuttal. That Frame and Horton have differences of opinion on what happens or should happen in a worship service is an understatement, but point 9 does not reflect either the points made in Christless Christianity or A Better Way. Horton has consistently argued that worship is dialogical; the congregation is a participant with God in the worship service. God serves us in Word and Sacrament, and we respond in songs of praise, prayer, confession, and attention.
10. Analysts of the church must compare the Church’s focus on Christ with its focus on other things, rather than considering that many of these other things are in fact applications of Christ’s own person and work.
If churches actually saw their focus on other things as extensions and applications of Christ’s ministry, we wouldn’t have an issue. But the facts (as cited in the works of both unbelievers and believers in many different traditions) just don’t bear out Frame’s optimism about mainstream evangelicalism here.
Posted by PuritanReformed at 23:25
Iron Ink - Horton, Frame,
Iron Ink - Horton, Frame, & Goldilocks
Posted using ShareThis
Another tagline in the on-going debate between Dr. Horton and Rev. Frame. This particular take is not helpful and appears to be a read from a theonomically-oriented perspective.
Upon first view, it appears to be academic. It's not. It goes to two different visions on the churches in the United States, broadly speakly.
It should be noted that regular users of the classic book of Anglican Prayer, 1662, has law and gospel along with justification by faith alone suffused throughout. Even the Anglo-Catholic liturgical scholar, Gregory Dix, acknowledged this to be Cranmer's theme.
A regular BCP-man, by training and disciplined piety, must incline to Horton's perspective.
Posted using ShareThis
Another tagline in the on-going debate between Dr. Horton and Rev. Frame. This particular take is not helpful and appears to be a read from a theonomically-oriented perspective.
Upon first view, it appears to be academic. It's not. It goes to two different visions on the churches in the United States, broadly speakly.
It should be noted that regular users of the classic book of Anglican Prayer, 1662, has law and gospel along with justification by faith alone suffused throughout. Even the Anglo-Catholic liturgical scholar, Gregory Dix, acknowledged this to be Cranmer's theme.
A regular BCP-man, by training and disciplined piety, must incline to Horton's perspective.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Confessional or Non-Confessional Christianity? A Big Dustup at Heidelbog
We appreciate this rugged, hand-to-hand combat between Dr. Scott Clark of Westminster Seminary (California) and Rev. John Frame of Reformed Theological Seminary (Orlando, FL). The "framing" perspectives are "Maximal Confessional Faith" versus "Minimalistic Confessional Faith." What should we "confess" to the fallen, dying and drifting world?
Assuredly, Dr. Clark is in the corner with his view along with Dr. Michael Horton, the butt of Rev. Frame's rather fierce review; allegedly, Rev. Frame is the latter, the minimalist, the broad evangelical. The gloves are off. To switch the metaphor, Rev. Frame has attacked a theological shark and, as a result, may have lost limbs in the process, if not his life. We'll have more to say on this combat in the Church Militant.
Of course, the new Anglican household runs the gamut from Tractarians to charismatics--they have no "Confessional" core, unlike better days. Those clerks could not follow much of this anyways...since theological literacy is required. (We, as you can tell, take very dim views of ACNA clergy.)
A good post by Dr. Clark with implications for how one assays, assesses and relates to the mish-mashing subjectivists in high places.
http://heidelblog.wordpress.com/2009/10/22/frame-horton-triperspectivalism-subjectivism/#comment-12564
I don’t know what’s in your garage, but from time to time mine has become pretty cluttered and stuff has to be pitched. What we keep and what we pitch says something about us. People have theological garages too, in which they keep all their theological influences and that collection can say a fair bit about the owner of the garage too. Recently John Frame wrote a review of Mike Horton’s book, Christless Christianity. In that review John opened up his garage and gave us a peek as to what he has kept, wants to keep, and what he wants to throw away.
Most people probably know John only from his books and to those who don’t live and breathe Reformed theology, piety, and practice he seems like a sweetly-reasonable bridge builder between Reformed theology and broad evangelicalism. Thus, folk who don’t share much in common with Reformed theology as it is (or at least ought to be) confessed and practiced by the Reformed churches favor John’s work not because it gives them insight into that odd creature in the zoo (Reformed confessional theology) but because its message is, “Sure you’re Reformed too!” The spirit of the age (Zeitgeist) is subjectivist (I define reality) and inclusivist (everyone plays and everyone wins) and John’s theology fits right in. That’s great unless, of course, one knows well the Reformed theology of the confessions and the older writers. In that case things are rather more complicated since John has lobbed out several radical proposals over years, which, if adopted and implemented, would virtually transform Reformed theology and, as I’ve said before, not in a good way.
With this pointed review we seem to be thrown again into controversy. Any disagreement of this sort is unpleasant but sometimes these things are necessary. For those who aren’t aware, this disagreement isn’t new. It’s roots go back several years to a difficult episode in the life of my school. For some years now, John has complained in print (e.g., in his infamous essay on “Machen’s Warrior Children” —for more on this see Darryl Hart’s response) and again in his recently published 1200 page festschrift (”celebration book”) that the arrival of “the historical theologians,” whom he characterizes as “traditionalists,” more or less wrecked the seminary.
You know how it is in some families. Well, at WSC circa 1998-2001, when John was unhappy, everyone was unhappy and boy was he unhappy. We tried to talk but John wasn’t having any of it. With the arrival of Darryl Hart as Academic Dean and Professor of Church History John had enough and left for greener pastures and with him went the controversy. Since that time we have been at peace and joyfully busy training pastors to preach the whole counsel of God and to reach the lost and judging from comments in the festschrift John has been happier too. So far, so good.
Into the (not entirely) quiet comes the review. Eric Landry, at the WHI blog has published a response to Frame. Fair-minded readers who’ve read Horton’s book (and the marvelous follow-up, Gospel Driven Life) will not recognize the book in John’s review. The WH response explains why that is. In the publishing business John’s review is known as a “hit piece.”
Books reviews are notorious for becoming opportunities for settling scores. In that sense it would be tempting to say with the cops on Monty Python, “Right then, nothing to see here, move along,” but there is something to see here.
This review is a fine distillation of most of what makes John’s theology what it is. Consider this: In the “Warrior Children” piece Frame endorses Norman Shepherd as one of the most brilliant theologians of our time. He says the same thing in the recent festschrift and Shepherd reciprocates in the same volume by acknowledging Frame as his “defender.” This is the same Norman Shepherd who was dismissed by WTS/P in 1981 because, during a seven-year controversy, he was unable to explain how his teaching agreed with the Word of God as confessed by the Westminster Standards. Shepherd genuinely does not understand that he has taken a Pelagian or at least Pelagianizing position. He genuinely doesn’t understand the difference between sola fides (faith that is alone) and sola fide (by faith alone).
In his volume published in 2000 Shepherd made flatly Pelagian arguments (which have roots in his 1959 ThM thesis which had Pelagian arguments). On this see the relevant chapters in Covenant, Justification, and Pastoral Ministry where these things are documented. For more on the development of Shepherd’s theology see Guy Water’s essay in the festschrift for Palmer Robertson. For that matter see Palmer Robertson’s history of the Shepherd controversy. Either Norm Shepherd is a technically incompetent, biblicistic, moralist who teaches covenantal Arminianism (when covenant is in view the theology is essentially Arminian) on a trajectory toward Socinianism or he is a genius who has made a great breakthrough in Reformed theology.
Both assessments cannot be right.
Blessedly, many of the (NAPARC) Reformed churches (PCA, OPC, URCNA, RCUS, RPCNA) have considered Norman Shepherd’s proposed revisions of Reformed theology and rejected them. John (and Shepherd) may be right that Shepherd is a visionary and the rest of us are just trapped by the dead weight of traditionalism, but we haven’t seen it and this piece isn’t likely to help us see it.
Consider also that, in the review, Frame ends up siding with Joel Osteen versus Horton (whose theology he
calls “narrow, factional, even sectarian”) on the question how obedience relates to wealth and remonstrates with Horton for being too hard on Osteen. What kind of a theology cannot see that what Joel Osteen says is utterly incompatible with biblical and historic Christianity?
What kind of theology even bothers to look for something redeeming in Osteen’s message? It is a theology that is premised upon an intentionally vague (but not brief), broad, inclusive evangelicalism, upon the progressive wing of the old evangelical coalition, which is in the process of cracking up.
As Darryl Hart has argued, “evangelicalism” doesn’t really exist. In short, John is an evangelical latitudinarian. How can he be the theologian of a broad, inclusive, socially influential movement if it doesn’t exist or if it’s at odds with basic Christian doctrine? Thus, a priori, there must be some way in which Osteen (who, after all speaks to 30,000 weekly in person and to millions on TV) is right.
Could there be a deep, structural connection between John’s theology and Osteen’s “glory story“? I think there is. There’s a connection between his long-standing support for Shepherd’s revision of the covenant of grace into a covenant of grace and works. It’s no accident that picked the issue of works and wealth with which to support Osteen. In traditional Protestant (both Lutheran and Calvinist) categories, Osteen, Shepherd, and Frame are theologians of glory. A theology of the cross is about Christ for us (Christus pro nobis) for righteousness, not for wealth or this-worldly power and influence. The theology of glory is about what we can do for/with God.
In the interests of duct-taping evangelicalism together, Frame is advocating confessional minimalism and multi-perspectival inclusivism. By contrast, in the interests of a genuinely biblical and Reformed theology, piety, and practice, Horton is advocating confessional maximalism. He still believes not just the broad outlines (from some perspective or other) of the faith confessed by the Reformed churches but he actually believes the stuff between the first article and the last. He actually wants to see that inform our piety (the way we relate to God) and practice (the way we live out our faith). The practical fruit of John’s theology is that Reformed churches become less distinct from broad evangelical churches. Frame is explicit that, in his view, this is a good thing. He’s argued for this sort of “evangelical” ecumenism in his book Evangelical Reunion.
Horton is arguing for a sharp antithesis between what today constitutes “evangelicalism” and confessional Reformed theology, piety, and practice. The function of the review then is to discredit, partly by misrepresenting him, Horton’s case so as to strengthen confidence in the broad, inclusivist approach to evangelicalism.
This review is an outstanding example of latter-day latitudinarianism. If you want to know where latitudinarianism leads, check out Julius Kim’s chapter in CJPM. What happened to the Church of England when it was over run by Latitudinarians?
Finally, the odd thing about this version of Latitudinarianism is that John seems to have room in his theological garage for theonomy, Norman Shepherd, the Federal Vision, and Joel Osteen but he doesn’t have room for Mike Horton his ilk. That’s an interesting garage but it’s not one in which folk who still believe the Reformed faith should want to live.
Assuredly, Dr. Clark is in the corner with his view along with Dr. Michael Horton, the butt of Rev. Frame's rather fierce review; allegedly, Rev. Frame is the latter, the minimalist, the broad evangelical. The gloves are off. To switch the metaphor, Rev. Frame has attacked a theological shark and, as a result, may have lost limbs in the process, if not his life. We'll have more to say on this combat in the Church Militant.
Of course, the new Anglican household runs the gamut from Tractarians to charismatics--they have no "Confessional" core, unlike better days. Those clerks could not follow much of this anyways...since theological literacy is required. (We, as you can tell, take very dim views of ACNA clergy.)
A good post by Dr. Clark with implications for how one assays, assesses and relates to the mish-mashing subjectivists in high places.
http://heidelblog.wordpress.com/2009/10/22/frame-horton-triperspectivalism-subjectivism/#comment-12564
I don’t know what’s in your garage, but from time to time mine has become pretty cluttered and stuff has to be pitched. What we keep and what we pitch says something about us. People have theological garages too, in which they keep all their theological influences and that collection can say a fair bit about the owner of the garage too. Recently John Frame wrote a review of Mike Horton’s book, Christless Christianity. In that review John opened up his garage and gave us a peek as to what he has kept, wants to keep, and what he wants to throw away.Most people probably know John only from his books and to those who don’t live and breathe Reformed theology, piety, and practice he seems like a sweetly-reasonable bridge builder between Reformed theology and broad evangelicalism. Thus, folk who don’t share much in common with Reformed theology as it is (or at least ought to be) confessed and practiced by the Reformed churches favor John’s work not because it gives them insight into that odd creature in the zoo (Reformed confessional theology) but because its message is, “Sure you’re Reformed too!” The spirit of the age (Zeitgeist) is subjectivist (I define reality) and inclusivist (everyone plays and everyone wins) and John’s theology fits right in. That’s great unless, of course, one knows well the Reformed theology of the confessions and the older writers. In that case things are rather more complicated since John has lobbed out several radical proposals over years, which, if adopted and implemented, would virtually transform Reformed theology and, as I’ve said before, not in a good way.
With this pointed review we seem to be thrown again into controversy. Any disagreement of this sort is unpleasant but sometimes these things are necessary. For those who aren’t aware, this disagreement isn’t new. It’s roots go back several years to a difficult episode in the life of my school. For some years now, John has complained in print (e.g., in his infamous essay on “Machen’s Warrior Children” —for more on this see Darryl Hart’s response) and again in his recently published 1200 page festschrift (”celebration book”) that the arrival of “the historical theologians,” whom he characterizes as “traditionalists,” more or less wrecked the seminary.
You know how it is in some families. Well, at WSC circa 1998-2001, when John was unhappy, everyone was unhappy and boy was he unhappy. We tried to talk but John wasn’t having any of it. With the arrival of Darryl Hart as Academic Dean and Professor of Church History John had enough and left for greener pastures and with him went the controversy. Since that time we have been at peace and joyfully busy training pastors to preach the whole counsel of God and to reach the lost and judging from comments in the festschrift John has been happier too. So far, so good.
Into the (not entirely) quiet comes the review. Eric Landry, at the WHI blog has published a response to Frame. Fair-minded readers who’ve read Horton’s book (and the marvelous follow-up, Gospel Driven Life) will not recognize the book in John’s review. The WH response explains why that is. In the publishing business John’s review is known as a “hit piece.”
Books reviews are notorious for becoming opportunities for settling scores. In that sense it would be tempting to say with the cops on Monty Python, “Right then, nothing to see here, move along,” but there is something to see here.
This review is a fine distillation of most of what makes John’s theology what it is. Consider this: In the “Warrior Children” piece Frame endorses Norman Shepherd as one of the most brilliant theologians of our time. He says the same thing in the recent festschrift and Shepherd reciprocates in the same volume by acknowledging Frame as his “defender.” This is the same Norman Shepherd who was dismissed by WTS/P in 1981 because, during a seven-year controversy, he was unable to explain how his teaching agreed with the Word of God as confessed by the Westminster Standards. Shepherd genuinely does not understand that he has taken a Pelagian or at least Pelagianizing position. He genuinely doesn’t understand the difference between sola fides (faith that is alone) and sola fide (by faith alone).
In his volume published in 2000 Shepherd made flatly Pelagian arguments (which have roots in his 1959 ThM thesis which had Pelagian arguments). On this see the relevant chapters in Covenant, Justification, and Pastoral Ministry where these things are documented. For more on the development of Shepherd’s theology see Guy Water’s essay in the festschrift for Palmer Robertson. For that matter see Palmer Robertson’s history of the Shepherd controversy. Either Norm Shepherd is a technically incompetent, biblicistic, moralist who teaches covenantal Arminianism (when covenant is in view the theology is essentially Arminian) on a trajectory toward Socinianism or he is a genius who has made a great breakthrough in Reformed theology.
Both assessments cannot be right.
Blessedly, many of the (NAPARC) Reformed churches (PCA, OPC, URCNA, RCUS, RPCNA) have considered Norman Shepherd’s proposed revisions of Reformed theology and rejected them. John (and Shepherd) may be right that Shepherd is a visionary and the rest of us are just trapped by the dead weight of traditionalism, but we haven’t seen it and this piece isn’t likely to help us see it.
Consider also that, in the review, Frame ends up siding with Joel Osteen versus Horton (whose theology he
calls “narrow, factional, even sectarian”) on the question how obedience relates to wealth and remonstrates with Horton for being too hard on Osteen. What kind of a theology cannot see that what Joel Osteen says is utterly incompatible with biblical and historic Christianity?What kind of theology even bothers to look for something redeeming in Osteen’s message? It is a theology that is premised upon an intentionally vague (but not brief), broad, inclusive evangelicalism, upon the progressive wing of the old evangelical coalition, which is in the process of cracking up.
As Darryl Hart has argued, “evangelicalism” doesn’t really exist. In short, John is an evangelical latitudinarian. How can he be the theologian of a broad, inclusive, socially influential movement if it doesn’t exist or if it’s at odds with basic Christian doctrine? Thus, a priori, there must be some way in which Osteen (who, after all speaks to 30,000 weekly in person and to millions on TV) is right.
Could there be a deep, structural connection between John’s theology and Osteen’s “glory story“? I think there is. There’s a connection between his long-standing support for Shepherd’s revision of the covenant of grace into a covenant of grace and works. It’s no accident that picked the issue of works and wealth with which to support Osteen. In traditional Protestant (both Lutheran and Calvinist) categories, Osteen, Shepherd, and Frame are theologians of glory. A theology of the cross is about Christ for us (Christus pro nobis) for righteousness, not for wealth or this-worldly power and influence. The theology of glory is about what we can do for/with God.
In the interests of duct-taping evangelicalism together, Frame is advocating confessional minimalism and multi-perspectival inclusivism. By contrast, in the interests of a genuinely biblical and Reformed theology, piety, and practice, Horton is advocating confessional maximalism. He still believes not just the broad outlines (from some perspective or other) of the faith confessed by the Reformed churches but he actually believes the stuff between the first article and the last. He actually wants to see that inform our piety (the way we relate to God) and practice (the way we live out our faith). The practical fruit of John’s theology is that Reformed churches become less distinct from broad evangelical churches. Frame is explicit that, in his view, this is a good thing. He’s argued for this sort of “evangelical” ecumenism in his book Evangelical Reunion.
Horton is arguing for a sharp antithesis between what today constitutes “evangelicalism” and confessional Reformed theology, piety, and practice. The function of the review then is to discredit, partly by misrepresenting him, Horton’s case so as to strengthen confidence in the broad, inclusivist approach to evangelicalism.
This review is an outstanding example of latter-day latitudinarianism. If you want to know where latitudinarianism leads, check out Julius Kim’s chapter in CJPM. What happened to the Church of England when it was over run by Latitudinarians?
Finally, the odd thing about this version of Latitudinarianism is that John seems to have room in his theological garage for theonomy, Norman Shepherd, the Federal Vision, and Joel Osteen but he doesn’t have room for Mike Horton his ilk. That’s an interesting garage but it’s not one in which folk who still believe the Reformed faith should want to live.
Review of Michael Horton, Christless Christianity: The Alternative Gospel of the American Church
Review of Michael Horton, Christless Christianity: The Alternative Gospel of the American Church
Review of Michael Horton, Christless Christianity: The Alternative Gospel of the American Church[1]
John M. Frame
The title of this book is alarming, certainly by design. But the subtitle is even more so. Does it mean that the whole American church (all traditions, denominations, locations) is committed to an “alternative Gospel?” Or is it that, though part of the American church upholds the true, biblical gospel, there is within that church a movement (evidently a significant movement) to the contrary?
We should keep in mind that such language makes the most serious indictments. To be Christless is to be doomed to Hell (John 3:36). And if someone preaches an “alternative gospel,” contrary to the gospel preached by the apostle Paul, he is to be accursed (Gal. 1:8-9). People who preach “another gospel” are not Christian friends who happen to disagree with us on this or that matter. Rather, they have betrayed Christ himself. The whole church ought to rise up against such persons and declare that they are not part of the body of Christ and that they have no part in the blessings of salvation. Indeed, if they do not repent, they have no future except eternal punishment.
In my view, many Christians (especially those in the conservative Reformed tradition that Horton and I both inhabit) use this sort of language far too loosely, even flippantly. It is time we learned that when we criticize someone for preaching “another gospel” we are doing nothing less than cursing him, damning him to Hell.
But Horton actually indicates to his readers that these charges are not to be taken seriously. So Horton backs away from the serious language of his title:
Before I launch this protest, I should carefully state up front what I am not saying. First, I acknowledge that there are many churches, pastors, missionaries, evangelists, and distinguished Christian laypeople around the world, proclaiming Christ and fulfilling their vocations with integrity. (20)
So evidently “Christless Christianity” is not the gospel of the American church. Many of its members are assuredly not Christless. Further,
Second, I am not arguing in this book that we have arrived at Christless Christianity but that we are well on our way. (20)
Whew! Evidently Christless Christianity is not yet the gospel of the American church, though we are on our way to adopting it.
This is something of a “bait and switch.” Horton scares us to death with his brash title, telling us that we are headed for Hell. But then he backtracks, says he didn’t really mean it.
Since Horton spends a great part of this book telling us that we have lost seriousness about the issues of God’s law and gospel, we should hold him also to a high standard of seriousness. To say that we are under God’s curse, and then to turn around and say, “well, not really,” is not to meet such a standard. We might conclude that Horton is not joking here about holy things, but he is “well on his way.”
In any case, what is it that, according to Horton, has put us “well on our way” to denying Christ? We might expect that Horton sees a rebirth of the liberalism J. Gresham Machen complained about in Christianity and Liberalism,[2] in which Christ is merely a teacher and example, not the Son of God who died and rose to save sinners. In various updated forms, liberalism is still with us, to be sure. But that is not Horton’s concern in this volume. Rather, he says that for us to drift toward Christless Christianity,
There need not be explicit abandonment of any key Christian teaching, just a set of subtle distortions and not-so-subtle distractions. Even good things can cause us to look away from Christ and to take the gospel for granted as something we needed for conversion but which now can be safely assumed and put in the background. Center stage, however, is someone or something else. (20)
Notice how far we have come. From “Christless Christianity” and “alternative gospel,” to “well on our way,” we are now exploring “subtle distortions and not-so-subtle distractions,” even “good things” that detract from Christ.[3]
What are these subtle distortions? Evidently, what Horton is concerned with is an emphasis. The metaphors of “looking away from” Christ and putting something else on “center stage” have to do with the emphasis we put on Christ.
Now arguing about emphasis in theology is tricky and, as Horton admits, subtle. And it’s even trickier if we argue by way of metaphors. If a person trusts Christ as lord and savior, the person in one sense will always have him on “center stage.” That’s what lordship means. The lord is the one before whom we bow, whom we acknowledge as having supreme power, authority, and personal presence in our lives.[4] His actions and words are more important to us than any others.
But in our continuing sinfulness, we do sometimes “look away” from Christ, in the sense that we are tempted to sin, and we do sin. When that happens, have we pushed Jesus from “center stage?” Not in the sense mentioned in the last paragraph. The lord can never be displaced. Nothing can separate us from his love, not even our own sin. But “center stage” is a metaphor, and perhaps in some contexts it can designate, not the position of lordship, but a position of relative emphasis. If the latter, then it is indeed possible for us to push Jesus away from center stage.
But what exactly does that mean? What does it mean to “look away from” Jesus, or to push him (metaphorically!) from “center stage?” Certainly Horton does not want to say that we need to be thinking “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” through every waking moment. Certainly Scripture doesn’t require that. God’s creation is good, and it is perfectly legitimate to think about that creation sometimes and not always of him. It is right that we think often of Jesus, but also of bananas, symphonies, and international affairs. To do that is surely not to push Jesus from center stage, or to look away from him. Horton admits this:
Of course I am not denying… that Christians should have an interest in pressing issues of the day or that there is an important place for applying biblical teaching to our conduct in the world. But with Lewis I am concerned that when the church’s basic message is less about who Christ is and what he has accomplished once and for all for us and more about who we are and what we have to do in order to make his life (and ours) relevant to the culture, the religion that is made “relevant” is no longer Christianity. (145-46)
But “basic,” “less,” and “more” are relative terms. How much is too much? How much is just enough? Must every preacher spend a certain percentage of his time on Christ and the fundamental gospel, and another percentage on other things? Or may the percentages vary from week to week? Some churches have maintained the policy of having a gospel invitation in every service. Is that a good thing?
Is there a precise way to measure what the proper emphasis ought to be? One sometimes hears that preachers fail to emphasize exactly what Scripture emphasizes, in the same degree that Scripture emphasizes it. This is a little closer to Horton’s actual argument. But a little reflection will make it evident that such a complaint is incoherent. No preacher can possibly emphasize exactly, precisely, what Scripture emphasizes. This is the case, not only because of our human frailty (nobody can calculate the Bible’s emphasis precisely) but because of the very nature of preaching. Preaching is not the Bible; it is a communication of the Bible. The only way a preacher could maintain precisely the same emphasis as Scripture would be for him to simply read Scripture from the pulpit, from Genesis to Revelation, in the original languages. But preaching is not the reading of Scripture. Its words are not the same as those of Scripture. The preacher takes the words of Scripture and puts them into different words, in order to communicate with, to edify his congregation. Edifying a congregation may, and often does, require the preacher to give certain topics an emphasis different from that of Scripture itself. And it always involves applying biblical teaching to extra-biblical situations, to our lives.
Given the difficulty of formulating a normative emphasis for preaching, or for a church’s ministry, given the “subtlety” of the question, I would think that we should moderate somewhat the language of our critique. We should be wary of cocksureness and dogmatism. We ought to discuss these matters in an atmosphere of brotherhood, charity, and civility. Certainly we should hold back on extreme language like “Christless” and “alternative gospel.”
But we must get still more specific. What kind of wrong emphasis is Horton concerned about? Horton’s main complaints, I think, can be grouped around a number of twofold distinctions:
1. God and Ourselves
Horton says,
…The focus still seems to be on us and our activity rather than on God and his work in Jesus Christ. In all these approaches, there is the tendency to make God a supporting character in our own life movie rather than to be rewritten as new characters in God’s drama of redemption… we end up saying very little that the world could not hear from Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, or Oprah.(18)
…we are focused on ourselves and our activity more than on God and his saving work among us… the “search for the sacred” in America is largely oriented to what happens inside of us, in our own personal experience, rather than on what God has done for us in history. (18)
…God and Jesus are still important, but more as part of the supporting cast in our own show. (20)
So the wrong emphasis in his view is an emphasis on ourselves rather than on God and his work of saving us from sin in Jesus Christ. In Horton’s view, modern American churches proclaim God as a means to human happiness (69).
As we have seen, this talk of “focus” or “emphasis” is very vague, so these kinds of charges are very difficult to prove. And given the radical nature of Horton’s charges (or at least his language) we ought to demand a rigorous case.
He claims that these charges are based on “recent studies” (20), and he says that he will
…offer statistics supporting the remarkable conclusion that those who were raised in “Bible-believing” churches know as little of the Bible’s actual content as their unchurched neighbors. (22)
If there are any actual statistics in this book, I must have missed them. What Horton provides are quotes from sociologists, historians, and psychiatrists, mostly secular, who say some of the same things he does. He quotes Newsweek (35), Karl Menninger (35), Robert Jay Lifton (35), Philip Rieff (36), Neil McCormick (36), Marsha Witten (48) Philip Lee (170) and others. He devotes a number of pages to Harold Bloom, who, he says, is sympathetic to Gnosticism rather than Christianity (170-75). But he never presents their raw data or presents a critical analysis of the arguments from which these people reached their conclusions.[5]
In the absence of serious argument, I default to my habitual skepticism toward critiques of evangelicalism by non-evangelicals. Horton may think that the very lack of Christian faith among these writers makes them more credible. I beg to differ. To accept conclusions as radical as Horton’s, I need to see at least one careful study by a mature evangelical believer, who is also a careful statistician, and who shows me his/her work. For statistical science is not religiously neutral. When Newsweek, for example, says that Christians are seeking “peace of mind” (35) why should we assume that the reporter is able to distinguish between a mere psychological comfort and the peace that Scripture promises to God’s people (John 14:27, 16:33, Rom. 1:7, Phil. 4:7)? When the reporter notes that Christians seek “personal transformation” (35), why should we assume that he understands the difference between psychological healing on the one hand and biblical regeneration and sanctification on the other? And why should we assume that he understands the relationship between sanctification and psychological healing? A mature evangelical Christian sociologist would at least have these distinctions in mind, and he might understand the ambiguities of the language he cites. But I have no reason to attribute such discernment to Horton’s authorities. We need to remember that the issue here is not only factual (what the churches do) but doctrinal (whether their activities are biblical). So I must ask, by what authority do secular sociologists, historians, and psychologists make judgments about Christian doctrine and preaching?
If Horton had taken the trouble, he might have at least asked the churches and pastors being studied how they would reply to these allegations. With the exceptions of Robert Schuller and Joel Osteen, who even Horton must regard as extreme examples, he has not seen fit to do this.
Speaking, perhaps presumptuously, for “the American church,” let me attempt a reply. For what it is worth, my own perception of American evangelicalism is very different from Horton’s. My observation is anecdotal (just like his, in the final analysis), but based on around 55 years of adult observation in many different kinds of churches including the much maligned mega-churches. In most every evangelical church I have visited or heard about, the “focus” is on God in Christ. There has been something of a shift over the years in what Horton would call a “subjective” direction. But that is best described not as unfaithfulness, but as a shift toward more application of Scripture to people’s external situations and inner life. There is a greater interest in sanctification (not just justification), on Christianity as a world view, on believers’ obligations to one another, on love within the body of Christ, and in the implications of Scripture for social justice.
I don’t see this as wrong, or unbiblical. Indeed, I think this general trend is an improvement over the state of affairs fifty years ago. Scripture is certainly concerned about these matters, and we ought to teach and learn what it has to say. Indeed, a “focus on God” that neglects scrutiny of ourselves does not honor God at all. As Calvin says on the first page of his Institutes, we cannot know ourselves without knowing God, and we can’t know God without knowing ourselves. And Calvin (rather unlike Horton) says that he doesn’t know which comes first. The Westminster Shorter Catechism says as its answer to Question 1, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and enjoy him forever.” (Emphasis mine.) So it is possible to have a God-centered view of human experience and subjectivity, a human “focus” that detracts not one bit from a biblical God-centeredness.
Consider Ps. 18:
I love you, O LORD, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
My shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call on the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,
And I am saved from my enemies.
Like many Psalms, this song includes lavish use of the first person singular personal pronoun, “I,” “me,” “my—“maybe 75 occurrences. But will anyone claim that this Psalm is anything but God-centered?
The God of Scripture is not Moloch. He does not demand human sacrifice as the price of honoring him. Misery is not his goal for us. Rather, he delights in delivering and sanctifying his people. “Focus” is not a zero-sum game, where every bit of attention to God must detract from man and vice versa.
So, contrary to Horton, there is a sense in which God is a means to our happiness. Not, of course, a mere means. He is not only a means, not primarily that, but he is certainly that. Scripture presents redemption as precisely a means to our happiness. The story of the Bible is the story of how God came into a fallen world to save human beings from sin and give them happiness with him. Eternal happiness, certainly, but also the blessings of this life. The “blessed” of the Beatitudes (Matt. 5:1-12) is sometimes translated “happy.” Our happiness is based on our reward in heaven (verse 12), but the thought of that reward brings rejoicing in our present life (12). So the New Testament is full of exhortations to rejoice (e.g. Phil. 4:4), not to be anxious (Phil. 4:6-7), to enjoy the peace of God (Phil. 4:7). Jesus even promises his disciples “now, in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life” (Mark 10:30). The Psalms speak often of a covenant God who rescues his people from danger and leads them into green pastures, beside still waters. Proverbs says that keeping God’s commandments brings length of days and years of life and peace (Prov. 3:1-2). Paul speaks of the contentment God gives to him in the midst of hardships (2 Cor. 12:9-10). The promise of prosperity to those who honor their parents continues under the new covenant (Eph. 6:1-3). Compare 1 Tim. 4:8, 1 Pet. 3:8-12.
It is amazing, certainly, that God, who deserves all praise, worship, and service, comes into history to serve us in this way. In Luke 12:37, Jesus says,
Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes. Truly, I say to you, he will dress himself for service and have them recline at table, and he will come and serve them.
Horton himself (194) stresses this verse in articulating his view of worship. He complains that in the worship of Willow Creek Community Church there is no reference to “God’s activity in serving his people” (194). I shall discuss this issue at a later point. But if this is a biblical representation, then it is not unbiblical to say, or even to emphasize, that God is concerned to bless human beings.
To say this does not at all compromise God’s transcendence, holiness and majesty. Indeed, it honors these. One reason God is worthy of praise is that he is big enough to know and care about every detail in the universe and particularly the affairs of his people. Horton complains that the concept of God in the American church has become “vacuous” (23)[6] because the church focuses on such things as
Discipleship, spiritual disciplines, life transformation, culture transformation, relationships, marriage and family, stress, the spiritual gifts, financial gifts, radical experience of conversion, and end-times curiosities… (26)
Except possibly for the last item, it seems to me that everything on this list is a concern of Scripture itself and deserves to be emphasized in the church in some degree. We can argue about the exact degree, but that argument is not likely to be fruitful. These are matters that God cares about. Horton may think that to preach on them is something different from preaching Christ, but a more biblical assessment is that these are implications and applications of the work of Christ, and that we are not preaching Christ fully unless we preach on these applications. God sent his Son to die for real people, for us, and that salvation changes every aspect of our lives. So we live by every word that comes from the mouth of God, not only by those that are about Christ in some relatively direct fashion.
Now, certainly there is a kind of selfishness that detracts from biblical discipleship. Scripture warns of this (Luke 12:21; cf. Matt. 6:19-20). The self can be an idol, something we worship in place of God. Choosing an object of worship is certainly a zero-sum game. If Horton can show that the emphasis on human beings in the modern church amounts to idolatry, then his alarming language may be appropriate. But to show that, and to distinguish it from a legitimate concern with the self, is a task requiring some hard reflection, and I have not found that in Christless Christianity.
Scripture also rebukes Christians for our tendency to neglect others in order to please ourselves (Rom. 15:1). This is a sin, and it does detract from our faithfulness to God. But not every concern with self is selfish. It is wrong to covet, but not every desire for earthly goods is coveting. It is not wrong to desire food (Matt. 4:2), drink (John 19:28-29), sleep (Luke 8:23), sex (Gen. 2:22-23, Song of Solomon), children (Gen. 30:22-23, 1 Sam. 1:17, Ps. 127:3-5), or a better dwelling (Prov. 24:27). Horton takes no trouble to make such distinctions, thereby losing credibility for his attack on the American church.
2. Scripture and its Application
Showing how the teachings of Scripture are related to us is what I call “application.” In this sense, preaching, teaching, and theology are all kinds of application. The application of Scripture shows us how Scripture ought to change our beliefs, actions, feelings, indeed every aspect of human life (1 Cor. 10:31). As I mentioned earlier, preaching cannot possibly have the precise emphasis that Scripture has, for its work is not to replicate Scripture but to apply Scripture to its readers.
In this sense, it is wrong to distinguish “interpretation” from “application” in preaching.[7] Often people think that interpretation shows the original thrust of the biblical words to its original audience, while application relates the passage to us today. But a closer look reveals that even in expounding the “original thrust of the biblical words” we are putting those words into categories that are meaningful to modern hearers and readers. There is no point in the preparation of sermons and lessons at which we can ignore the contemporary audience.
The distinction between Scripture and its application, and the important role of each, seem to elude Horton in this book. There is a constant polemic in the book against people who try to “make Jesus and the gospel relevant to people in our own time and place” (144). But certainly, when most people talk about making the gospel relevant, what they mean is simply applying it in the sense above. But Horton senses something nefarious about this project. He replies to such people,
But what does it say about Jesus Christ if the relevance of his person and work cannot stand on its own? Sure, Christ came as “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), but can he help me get that promotion at work or relieve my stress? (144-45)
In the first place, yes, Jesus can help me get a promotion and he can relieve my stress. As we saw in the previous section, God is concerned about human happiness, even in the details of our lives. But why does Horton need to take “relevance” only in this sort of way? Making Scripture relevant is also finding contemporary words[8] to describe and illustrate justification by grace through faith alone, a project Horton himself often engages in.
What does Horton mean by his question, “what does it say about Jesus Christ if the relevance of his person and work cannot stand on its own?” Here, he evidently fails to distinguish between objective and subjective relevance. Objectively, Jesus is relevant to us, whether we preach and teach about him or not. But “making him relevant” as the phrase is generally used, is about subjective relevance, namely helping people to understand and apply the objective relevance of Christ. “Making him relevant” communicates his objective relevance for all to appreciate, in their own languages, in their own cultural and individual situations.
Does Horton really think that we should make no effort to apply, to communicate the relevance of Christ to people today? He has little sympathy with those who are concerned about communicating the gospel. He quotes George Barna, who says that Jesus was a “communications specialist” and commends Jesus’ various methods of communicating with people. Barna makes various comparisons between Jesus’ communications methods and those of modern advertisers. Horton replies,
The question that naturally arises in the fact of such remarks is whether it is possible to say that Jesus made anything new. (47)
I confess I cannot find any reasonable correlation between Barna’s remarks and Horton’s reply, unless Horton is rebuking all interest in communication. Barna’s comparisons between Jesus and modern advertisers are a bit crass, but not entirely wrong. There are parallels between divine communication and human communication. But even if we reject Barna’s examples, it seems to me that for the sake of the gospel we ought certainly to take pains in learning how best to communicate it. That’s what the preaching departments of seminaries, including the seminary where Horton teaches, try to do. If we forswear all interest in communication, these departments have no reason to exist. The notion that “God’s relevance stands on its own” will not help young preachers as they struggle to learn how to communicate with their congregations.
Horton is particularly adamant against those who preach to “felt needs:”
Only when God’s law—his holiness, majesty, and moral will—creates in us a sense of our moral offensiveness to God does the gospel communicate deeper answers that our felt needs and cheap cravings only mask.(34)
Evidently, felt needs and cheap cravings are not far apart for Horton. Why?
We need to recover that sense so pervasive in other periods: namely, that even Christians do not know what they really need or even want and that attending to their immediate felt needs may muffle the only proclamation that can actually satisfy real needs. (240) Compare 97, 246).
I agree with Horton that this can happen. But I don’t think that it necessarily happens. Many felt needs of people today are recognized in Scripture as real needs: the need for good marriages, confidence in the future, personal integrity, for example. Others, such as the need for political harmony, a safe environment, good education are not specifically addressed in Scripture, but are certainly subject to the application of biblical principles. When churches show that the gospel addresses these needs, they can accomplish a lot of good. They should make clear, of course, that these needs are rooted in deeper needs, or they will not be addressing the felt needs adequately. But I don’t think the answer is to forbid the church from talking about anything that people are presently concerned about.
The communication and application of Scripture are essential to the church’s ministry. It is unbelievable that Horton seems to be discouraging them.
3. God’s Sovereignty and Human Responsibility
Horton’s aversion to communication sometimes seems to arise from an erroneous view of the relation between divine sovereignty and human responsibility. Horton says,
No more translating the gospel! The gospel is an offense at precisely the same points and for the same reasons as always. Efforts to translate the gospel into contemporary language actually aim at making the gospel not only more understandable but more believable. The problem is that the gospel is so counterintuitive to our fallen pride that it cannot be believed apart from a miracle of divine grace. (240)
This comment is terribly confused.[9] It seems to be saying that since salvation is by grace we need not make any effort to translate it into contemporary language. Should we, then, preach in Hebrew, or Greek, or Serbo-Croatian? Should we make the gospel as obscure as possible so as to avoid catering to fallen pride? Should we present it as something irrational, in order to maintain the offense of the cross? Perhaps we should not preach at all, in order to let God do the work.
This sounds as though human effort necessarily compromises God’s sovereignty. But that is a serious theological error. In some areas, God does all the work and we do nothing, examples being creation out of nothing and the gift of saving grace in Christ. But in many other areas, God works through created means, particularly through the work of human beings. For example, it is God who will gather his elect to himself; but, according to the Great Commission, he will do this through human beings who go and make disciples of all nations. Certainly that includes translating, interpreting, applying, and communicating the gospel message. In this case, divine sovereignty and human responsibility are not a zero-sum game, in which each detracts from the other. Salvation is God’s work from first to last. But in part of that process he employs human beings to do his work. And that employment brings glory to him, rather than detracting from his glory.
Another dimension of the sovereignty/responsibility issue arises in Horton’s critique of Joel Osteen. I will certainly not defend the main thrust of Osteen’s preaching, and I think many of Horton’s criticisms of him carry weight.[10] Osteen is surely preoccupied with realizing human potential rather than with sin and grace. (Of course, what he speaks of is God-given human potential and God-redeemed human potential, not autonomous human potential, as we might assume from Horton’s discussion.) But Horton seems to want to take the critique farther. He says that for Osteen,
God may be the source of this blessing [accomplishing our dreams—JF] in an ultimate sense, since he set things up, but whether we actually receive God’s favor and blessings depends entirely on our attitude, action, and obedience. (84)
I think the word “entirely” overstates Osteen’s position, but certainly he does believe that our attitudes, actions, and obedience are necessary to receive the full blessings of God’s grace. Here I think Osteen is quite right, though Horton associates his position with Pelagianism and Gnosticism. Scripture often teaches that obedience is the road to the fullness of God’s blessing, indeed that obedience is the mark of a living faith. See Matt. 5:1-12, 43-45, 6:2-6, Gal. 5:6, James 2:14-26. Paul presents the proper balance:
…work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Phil. 2:12b-13).
God’s work in Christ is sufficient for our salvation. But there is also the “working out” of salvation, its application to all aspects of human life. God works sovereignly in both aspects of salvation. But in the second aspect he employs our efforts, our attitudes, actions, and obedience to achieve his sovereign purposes. Certainly it is not wrong to say that the best life for a human being now (to allude to the title of Osteen’s book) is a life in which we grow in obedience. Nor is it wrong to say, as I indicated earlier, that there are earthly blessings as well as heavenly blessings to those who live God’s way.[11] Further, it is not wrong to say that we should “think positively” about God’s favor on us and his good purposes for us, even though all of us are called to endure suffering. Nor is it wrong to say that since we are created in God’s image and receive gifts of the Spirit we have “potential” we should seek to realize.
In Osteen’s preaching and writing, there is not nearly enough emphasis on the source of this potential in God’s saving grace. But Horton scarcely acknowledges at all that such potential exists, that there is biblical ground for thinking positively about ourselves, or that our obedience plays a role in appropriating the blessings of salvation. If he did, he would give Osteen at least some small degree of credit, rather than reading him in the worst possible sense, as a pure representative of Pelagianism. So, rather than a carefully thought-out critique of Osteean, Horton merely presents an opposite extreme.
For Horton, again, the relation between divine sovereignty and human responsibility is a zero sum game. Any recognition of human effort detracts from God’s sovereignty, and vice versa. I cannot regard this understanding as biblical.
4. The Objective and the Subjective
The above discussion casts some light on another theme of this book, one which Horton develops in many of his writings. Horton often emphasizes his view that the gospel focuses (again, note the relative term) on the “outer” rather than the “inner,” what happens outside of us, rather than what happens within us, the objective rather than the subjective. He quotes Goldsworthy,
The pivotal point of turning in evangelical thinking which demands close attention is the change that has taken place from the Protestant emphasis on the objective facts of the gospel in history, to the medieval emphasis on the inner life. The evangelical who sees the inward transforming work of the Spirit as the key element of Christianity will soon lose contact with the historic faith and the historic gospel. (152)[12]
As he accused Osteen of Pelagianism, Horton has a historical category for those who focus on the inner life:
Gnosticism identified God with the inner self, but Christianity has focused all of its resources on God outside of us, who creates, rules, judges, and saves us in our complete personal and corporate existence. It stands to reason that in the Gnostic scheme the inner self could stand above (even over against) not only the external church but its external ministry of preaching and sacrament, discipline and order, catechesis and communion. After all, it is not the public, historical, visible, and messy world that concerns Gnostics but the private, spiritual, invisible, and manageable world of the inner spirit. (186)
So those who “focus” on the inner life are “Gnostics,” or perhaps “well on their way” to Gnosticism. Horton is not sparing of the “Gnostic” label for anyone who gives attention to the inner life. (Osteen is both Pelagian and Gnostic, as Horton sees him.) I think this is quite inappropriate. Gnosticism, as Horton says, “identified God with the inner self.” Do we really want to say that Osteen does this? Or any other evangelical preacher Horton discusses?
In general, it is wrong to discuss “subtle” (Horton’s term) questions by the ruthless application of historical models. Horton is, of course, primarily a historian, so he leaps to analogies with historical movements like Pelagianism and Gnosticism. But these movements themselves took varied forms, and neither is a perfect match for any movement existing today. It is not fair to bring up such a historical movement as if it presents a complete parallel (and therefore serves as an adequate critique) of some modern development. Issues like this, especially issues that could result in someone being called “Christless,” deserve more careful reflection than this. But in this book, it seems that any time someone reflects on the inner life, Horton plops the Gnostic label on him.
When Chuck Smith says “We meet God in the realm of our spirit,” Horton finds Gnostic influence (178). That is extremely doubtful. The distinction of spirit and body is biblical (though theological use of it requires some clarification), and it has been common in all traditions of the church including the Reformed. The “spirituality of the church” has been a significant concept in American Christianity, and though I have some problems with it I suspect that Horton approves of the notion. I don’t accuse Horton or others who agree with this concept of Gnosticism. He should not accuse Chuck Smith either.
And on 182, he implies that it is Gnostic to say, as in the gospel song, that Jesus lives “within my heart” (182). But the Westminster Confession of Faith 18.2 mentions as its third ground of the assurance of salvation that the Spirit witnesses with our spirits that we are the children of God (Rom. 8:15-16). Jesus does indeed live in us in and through the Spirit. Is the Confession Gnostic?
Biblically, this loose attribution of Gnosticism to anyone who focuses on the inner life is quite wrong. As I indicated earlier, Scripture is about both God and man. In Scripture, God seeks his own glory, and he also seeks human happiness. The two don’t contradict one another. It is not a zero-sum game. Psalms like Ps. 18 that reflect most deeply on human need of God are among the most God-centered. God delights in the happiness of his people.
Much of that happiness is what we might call “inner” happiness. God grants relief from anxiety (Phil. 4:6), inner peace (verse 7). David deals with his anxiety over evildoers in Ps. 37 and 73, working out his “envy” of the arrogant (73:3). He concludes that it is good for him to “be near” to God (verse 28). (If that statement weren’t in the Bible, Horton would certainly accuse it of Gnosticism.) Jesus tells his disciples not to let their heart be troubled (John 14:1). The fruit of the Spirit is a revolution in our inward character (Gal. 5:17-24). Need we argue that true faith in God is a matter of the heart (Matt. 23:25-26)?
By his Spirit, Christ is in us (Rom. 8:10-11, Col. 1:27) and works in us (Phil. 1:6, 2:12-13). He does “live in our heart” by the Spirit. Against Horton’s emphasis in Chapter Five, our relation to Christ is fully personal. Is this Gnosticism? Perhaps the Gnostics took such language and distorted it for their own purposes, the destruction of the creator-creature distinction. But for the most part Horton writes as if it is wrong (Gnostic) even to reflect on our inner relationship with God. Clearly the distinction between Gnosticism and biblical inwardness requires a more careful analysis than Horton provides. What is needed here is not only the gifts of a historian, but also the gifts of systematic theologians and exegetes.
On 178, Horton cites Philip Lee as saying,
Whereas classical Calvinism has held that the Christian’s assurance of salvation was guaranteed only through Christ and his Church, with his means of grace, now assurance could be found only in the personal experience of having been born again. This was a radical shift, for Calvin had considered any attempt to put ‘conversion in the power of man himself’ to be gross popery.[13]
There is so much wrong with this quotation, I must number my objections. (1) This is another example of many in Horton’s book that try to resolve theological issues by history (“classical Calvinism” vs. “popery”) rather than Scripture. (2) To speak of being born again as a ground of assurance is not to put conversion in the power of man. The new birth is precisely not in the power of man, and Calvin would never have said that it was. (3) Certainly Christ is the ground of our assurance, but how does he assure us? To say that he assures us only through the external institution of the church is as papist as can be imagined. (4) The actual Reformation ground of assurance is three-sided, as in the Westminster Confession of Faith, 18.2: the “divine truth of the promises of salvation,” the “inward evidence of those graces unto which these promises are made,” and “the testimony of the Spirit of adoption witnessing with our spirits that we are the children of God.” (5) Lee’s statement says nothing about the promises, which are central. (6) The other two grounds mentioned in the Confession are inward and subjective. Both have clear biblical support. See 2 Pet. 1:5-11, Rom. 8:16-17.
Horton also quotes Lee as saying that the new birth was the opposite of “rebirth into a new and more acceptable self”; it was the death of the old self and its rebirth in Christ.[14] Certainly the new birth involves out death and resurrection in Christ, but that resurrection is to “newness of life” (Rom. 6:4). The old self dies, but the new self is certainly more acceptable: acceptable to God and to discerning believers.
Salvation in the Bible is not only justification, being declared righteous for Christ’s sake, but also sanctification, being transformed from within by the Spirit of God. Horton does refer occasionally to sanctification in the book. On 62, he notes rightly that sanctification, like justification, comes through the gospel (here as opposed to “gimmicks”). On 109, he says, “when faith alone receives the gift, it immediately begins to yield the fruit of righteousness.” True enough, as far as it goes. But unlike justification, sanctification is not simply given to us once for all. Scripture does not tell us merely to receive passively the gift of sanctification. Rather, there is a race to be run and a battle to be fought. Scripture constantly exhorts us to make efforts, to make the right choices. As I emphasized in section 3, there is not a zero sum here between divine sovereignty and human responsibility. Rather, God energizes our efforts and brings them to fruition. We work out our own salvation, knowing that God is working ”in” us.
Scripture refers over and over again to sanctification and the inner life. Horton’s references to it are almost entirely negative. If the argument about Christless Christianity is an argument about focus, it seems to me that Horton’s own focus needs rethinking.[15]
5. Theology of the Cross and the Theology of Glory
Another way Horton discourages the application of Scripture to our inner life and to our everyday life is by the Reformation contrast between theologies of glory and of the cross.
Horton explains that God intends to glorify his people “up ahead” (91) but not in this life. (I agree that in general our glorification is part of the next life rather than this one. But I wonder if Horton has considered in this regard John 17:22, 2 Cor. 3:18, Eph. 3:13, 1 Thess. 2:20, 1 Pet. 1:8? As elsewhere in this book, Horton oversimplifies.) In this life we “share in Christ’s suffering and humiliation.” To accept such suffering is to hold the theology of the cross. To seek glory on earth is to hold a theology of glory. It is “the offering of the kingdoms of the world here and now” (96). In a number of places, he equates the theology of glory with Gnosticism. We recall Horton’s criticism of anyone who seeks happiness from God here and now. They are, in his estimation, Gnostics, or theologians of glory.
But I argued in section #1 that God does in fact grant blessings to his people in this life. Certainly greater ones await, and we must not expect God to give us everything at once. But it is not fair for Horton to slap the label “Gnosticism” or “theology of glory” on anyone who seeks a closer walk with God, a more godly inner life, or God’s intervention in the ordinary problems of life.
6. Law and Gospel
In this book, as in previous books, Horton places much emphasis on the distinction between law and gospel. Here, he says that it is the failure to properly distinguish law and gospel that has put the American church on the road to Christless Christianity. “The worst thing that can happen to the church,” he says, “is to confuse law and gospel” (122). What happens is that
When even good, holy, and proper things become confused with the gospel, it is only a matter of time before we end up with Christless Christianity: a story about us instead of a story about the Triune God that sweeps us into the unfolding drama. (109)
Horton distinguishes law and gospel as follows:
It is important to point out that law and gospel do not simply refer to the Ten Commandments and John 3:16, respectively. Everything in the Bible that reveals God’s moral expectations is law and everything in the Bible that reveals God’s saving purposes and acts is gospel. (109)
Certainly “law” and “gospel” are not synonymous. I would define the distinction between them pretty much as Horton does. But Horton vacillates in his definitions. Sometimes, as we’ve seen, he regards any expression of God’s moral expectations as law, but other times, he seems to think that “law” must have an additional element: pronouncement of condemnation. Note:
The bad news is far worse than making mistakes or failing to live up to the legalistic standards of fundamentalism. It is that the best efforts of the best Christians, on the best days, in the best frame of heart and mind, with the best motives fall short of the true righteousness and holiness that God requires. Our best efforts cannot satisfy God’s justice. Yet the good news is that God has satisfied his own justice and reconciled us to himself through the life, death, and resurrection of his Son. God’s holy law can no longer condemn us because we are in Christ. (91)
So Horton is able to criticize Osteen as follows:
There is no condemnation in Osteen’s message for failing to fulfill God’s righteous law. On the other hand, there is no justification. Instead of either message, there is an upbeat moralism that is somewhere in the middle: Do your best, follow the instructions I give you, and God will make your life successful. (69)
He calls Osteen’s message “Law-Lite: Salvation from Unhappiness by Doing Your Best” (69, section title). So evidently Osteen’s moral exhortations don’t really constitute law, even though they “reveal God’s moral expectations.” To preach the law, according to Horton, it is not enough to reveal God’s moral expectations, as his definition on 109 would suggest. Rather, one must preach biblical morality in order to condemn. Otherwise, we proclaim, not law, but only “law-lite.”
This discussion recalls the controversy within Lutheranism as to whether the law should be preached to the regenerate.[16] Some Lutherans said that since the law always condemns, it should not be preached to believers, because believers are not under God’s condemnation. Others argued that believers do need the law to expose their residual unbelief and to turn them again to repent and believe on Christ. The second party prevailed. But still a third position prevailed in Reformed theology: that believers need to hear the law simply because they always need to know God’s will. Redeemed people will want to obey God out of gratitude (not works righteousness), and the law tells them how to do so. On this basis, we read the law, not to be condemned anew, but simply to serve the God who has removed from us all condemnation.
In this respect, Horton is more Lutheran than Reformed. He defines law as God’s moral requirements, a definition acceptable to all parties in this discussion. But for him the law must always bring condemnation, so that he doesn’t think one is really preaching the law unless he preaches it as condemnation.
This is to say, for Horton the law may be preached only in the context of justification, for justification is the removal of condemnation. As we saw earlier in this review, he cannot seem to reconcile himself to the fact that redemption involves sanctification as well as justification, our work as well as God’s, the subjective as well as the objective.
So when Osteen presents a message that almost entirely lacks a focus on justification, Horton replies with an emphasis entirely lacking in sanctification. But Scripture also speaks of sanctification, of the believer’s “working out” of salvation, his obedient walk with God. It gives us plenty of “instructions” about that, and as I indicated earlier it promises blessings (“success,” Josh. 1:8). It does indeed tell us how to be happy in this world.[17]
Now I think if we recognize that God’s law functions in sanctification as well as justification, we will see little need to insist on “separating” law and gospel as Horton insists. Horton demands that the two be sharply separated from one another: that there should be no law in the gospel and no gospel in the law. These are “two distinct worlds,” he says (137). For Horton, law is unmitigated bad news, with no good news mixed in (63, 91). This view is stressed in Lutheran theology[18] and has gained an increasing following in Reformed circles.
But as a matter of fact, that separation of law and gospel does not have biblical support. One should ask here, is there anything in Scripture that does not reveal God’s saving purposes? Jesus said that all of Scripture testified of him (Luke 24:25-27, John 5:39). And is there anything in the authoritative scriptures that does not impose a requirement upon us, at least the requirement to believe? But if the whole Bible can be considered law, and can also be considered gospel, how can law and gospel be separate?
Further, the gospel as proclaimed by Jesus and the apostles contains a command, the command to repent and believe (Mark 1:14-15, Acts 2:38-40). The law, on the other hand, is often based on divine deliverance, as in the case of the Decalogue (Ex. 20:2). The law itself is a gift of God’s grace, according to Ps. 119:29.The gospel is the proclamation of the coming kingdom (Isa. 52:7, Matt. 4:17, 23) in which God’s will shall be done on earth as in heaven (Matt. 6:10). It is the announcement that God’s law will prevail. So the law is good news, gospel. And the gospel is law.
To say that law and gospel come together in Scripture, however, is not to diminish the distinction between works and grace as means of salvation. Many have thought that they must separate law and gospel in order to separate works from grace. But the two issues are not parallel. Scripture plainly teaches, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Eph 2:8-9) This passage speaks of the basis of salvation, not of two different verbal messages.
7. Redemption and Moralism
Now Horton sees a close relationship between the law/gospel distinction and the quest for relevance in the American church that we discussed earlier. He says,
When people ask for more practical preaching, for a more relevant message than Christ and him crucified, what they are falling back on is law rather than gospel. Another way of saying it is that we always prefer giving God a supporting role in our life movie—our own glory story—rather than being recast in his unfolding drama of redemption. How can God fix my marriage/ How can he make me a more effective leader? How can I overcome stress and manage my time and finances better? These are not bad questions. In fact, the Scriptures do bring sound wisdom to bear on these issues. But they are not the major questions, not even for lifelong Christians. (146)
I maintain my earlier defense of relevance: that God’s word is to be applied to all areas of life, and that preachers have a duty to help them do this. Horton says that all attempts to make the Gospel relevant are “law” rather than gospel.[19] Does this mean that even if a preacher tries to show that the gospel deals with a specific kind of sin—let’s say adultery—that his sermon is law rather than gospel? I find that unpersuasive. Further I maintain my earlier argument (section 1) that God actually wants to serve his people, so that he delights to fix our marriages, help us with finances, etc. He is a God who is big enough to be concerned with small things. To seek from him this kind of help is not to trivialize him or to diminish him or to make him subordinate to me.
In fact, Horton here (though rarely in this book) admits that these are good questions, and he admits that Scripture addresses them. Again, in his view, it is a matter of emphasis.
Nevertheless, he has a rather ugly word for people who preach sermons on such subjects. He calls them moralists. Moralists are people who “miss the point” and trivialize the Bible so that it becomes “life’s instructional manual” (142). The Bible is about Christ and him crucified, Horton says, and so therefore not about moral questions, at least by way of emphasis.
So it is wrong, Horton says, to present (emphasize?) characters in Bible stories as moral examples (148-52).
Instead of drawing a straight line of application from the narrative to us, which typically moralizes or allegorizes the story, we are taught by Jesus himself to understand these passages in the light of their place in the unfolding drama of redemption that leads to Christ. (151)
This is another of many false dichotomies in this book. Horton says that understanding passages in the light of Christ is incompatible with understanding them as providing moral examples. But Christ himself called on the Jews to rejoice in his day, as Abraham did (John 8:56). He commended David’s behavior in supplying food to his hungry men (Mark 2:25).
Imitation is a major means of sanctification in Scripture. We are to imitate God (Ex. 20:11, Lev. 11:44, Matt. 5:48, 1 Pet. 1:15-16) and Jesus (John 13:14-15, 34-35, Phil. 2:5-11, 1 Pet. 2:21, 1 John 3:16, 4:9-11). We are to imitate the apostles as they imitate Christ (1 Cor. 4:16, 11:1). The Israelites in the wilderness are negative examples in 1 Cor. 10:6 and Heb. 4:11, as are Sodom and Gomorrah in Jude 7. Timothy is to be an example to other believers (1 Tim. 4:12). Hebrews 11 presents many “heroes of faith” as examples for us. James refers to the prophets and Job as examples of suffering and patience (James 5:10-11) and to Elijah as a man of prayer (verses17-18).
So the qualifications of church officers in 1 Tim. 3:1-13 and Tit. 1:5-9 are primarily qualities of character, so that these officers can be examples to the flock (1 Pet. 5:3). When Horton confesses on 117, “…I am not an exemplary creature,” he perhaps unintentionally disqualifies himself for church office.
Horton is right to say that Bible characters foreshadow Christ in various ways. He is also right in saying that these characters, except Jesus, are sinners like us and justified only by the grace of Christ. So, of course, not everything they do should be imitated. And insofar as we should imitate them, we should imitate them as examples of living by faith. But, given these qualifications, we should be encouraging, not discouraging, preachers to point out parallels between the lives of these people and our lives today. Preaching this way does not deserve to be called moralism.
Nor certainly does the use of biblical examples deserve this condemnation from Horton:
Regardless of the official theology held on paper, moralistic preaching (the bane of conservatives and liberals alike) assumes that we are not really hopeless sinners who need to be rescues but decent folks who need good examples, exhortations, and instructions…
This insult is quite undeserved. Horton says that to use a biblical character as an example for Christians today is a denial of the gospel. (Or is he again criticizing an “emphasis?” Hard to say.) That is nonsense. And it shows again that Horton has no ear for the complexity of biblical salvation, for the distinction between justification and sanctification. Obviously we are not justified by following anyone’s example, only by trusting in Christ. But in the process of sanctification we often have need of examples and, for that matter, exhortations and instructions as well. Scripture itself provides these, and we ought to be thankful for them.
I think what has happened here is that Horton has locked on to a certain theory of preaching and has neglected to look at what the Bible actually says. And at this point the theory is so unscriptural that Horton’s condemnations reflect back on himself rather than hitting his targets.
I agree with Horton that preachers sometimes refer to Bible characters without an adequate appreciation of their place in the history of redemption. Certainly it would be wrong to preach on David and Goliath and conclude that all believers have the power to kill literal giants (cf. Horton, 148-49). But that is just to say that Scripture passages must be understood in the context of the whole Bible. It certainly does not forbid all use of Bible characters as examples.
Horton should have thought about this enough to understand that there is an opposite extreme. I once had occasion to sit for some months under the preaching of a couple of Horton’s students. Their sermons typically developed some too-clever way at making their text “point to Christ.” Beyond that, they offered no illustrations, no applications except a general “repent and believe.” I hope Horton doesn’t regard this kind of preaching as ideal. But had he merely recognized that there were two extremes he would not have used rhetoric that condemned only one, but would have tried to do some careful analysis to define a middle position.
8. Redemption and Other Things
Not only does Horton draw a dichotomy between redemption and morals, but also between redemption and a number of other subjects. He says,
The central message of Christianity is not a worldview, a way of life, or a program for personal and societal change; it is a gospel. (105)
Gospel, he says, is “an announcement of something that someone else has already achieved for us” (105). Now we have already seen that Scripture also includes imperatives under “gospel,” the command to repent and believe in Christ. Other questions also arise. Given all the books, chapters, and pages in Scripture, very few of them are devoted to “announcement of something that someone else has already achieved for us,” if only because that achievement was accomplished only at the end of Jesus’ earthly life. Before that, there were many other things (creation, redemptive history, Psalms, wisdom literature, prophecy), but no gospel in Horton’s sense, though certainly their fundamental purpose is to anticipate the gospel. Further, the books of the New Testament from Acts to Revelation are not mere announcements of Jesus’ work. As we have seen, they apply the work of Jesus to various aspects of human life.
I’m willing to say that the gospel, as Horton defines it,[20] is the most important content of Scripture, but it is by no means the only content of Scripture. For one thing, I’m disappointed that Horton disparages “worldview” as a content of Scripture. As a Professor of Apologetics, he of all people should understand that the Bible presents a worldview that is utterly unique among all the religions and philosophies of the world. No other system of thought recognizes that the world is created out of nothing by a supreme being who is both absolute and personal (tri-personal!) and who relates to his creatures as lord.[21] Most non-Christians have no idea that the Bible contains a distinctive metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics. And if the gospel (the gospel!) is to be presented to them clearly, they must understand that it presupposes a way of thinking about the world that is unique in the history of thought. In one sense, then, worldview is part of the gospel. In another sense, worldview is the gospel’s presupposition. But to speak, as Horton does, as if we must choose between the gospel and its worldview is to have a very abstract concept of gospel indeed.
And certainly, as I have shown, the gospel is also a program of personal and societal change. The gospel is not given simply to be understood, but to be obeyed (2 Thess. 1:8, 1 Pet. 4:17). A faith that does no good works is not true faith in the gospel (James 2:14-26). Many pages of the New Testament are given over to ethical teaching. And the gospel is not only a program for personal change, but societal as well. Scripture condemns over and over again the injustices of society: oppression of the poor, dishonoring of parents, murder, adultery, theft, corrupt courts that promote false witness.
This discussion is sometimes caught up in eschatological debate: is the Kingdom of God only future or is it in some sense present now? Sometimes it is waylaid by debates about the roles of church and state (as Horton’s exposition of the “two kingdoms” view on 206-217). But apart from these debates, isn’t it obvious that when people come to trust in Christ they seek to bring biblical standards to bear in their workplaces? Paul says, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” (1 Cor. 10:31) Can we possibly exclude from “whatever” our work in politics, the arts, or finance? And can we possibly forbid the church to give us guidance in our attempts to improve society?
What does it mean to be engaged in politics to the glory of God? That is not always easy to define. I would agree with Horton that Christians often exaggerate their expertise on social issues; sometimes nonbelievers can do a better job of gathering the relevant facts. But if I am charged with the work of planning national health care, I certainly must ask how biblical principles apply to that. When a believer produces a sculpture, it may be difficult for him to see how his faith is relevant to each stroke of his tool; but he certainly doesn’t want critics referring to it as a symptom of modern nihilism.
Horton here again is arguing for an emphasis, certainly; I cannot believe he intends to absolutely prohibit the use of Scripture to guide us in “secular” activities. But as he presents his argument, he gives no encouragement at all to Christians who are seeking to apply their faith to the world in which they live. Over and over again, he presents this task negatively, as one that doesn’t deserve consideration, as opposed to his rather abstract conception of the gospel.
9. Giving and Receiving
Horton also criticizes the view and practice of worship in the American church. He begins by distinguishing “two scenarios:”
In the first, God gathers his people together in a covenantal event to judge and to justify, to kill and to make alive. The emphasis is on God’s work for us—the Father’s gracious plan, the Son’s giving life, death, and resurrection, and the Spirit’s work of bringing life to the valley of dry bones through the proclamation of Christ… In this preaching the people once again are simply receivers—recipients of grace…(189)
In the second scenario, the church is its own subculture, an alternative community not only for weekly dying and rising in Christ but for one’s entire circle of friends, electricians [JF:??], and neighbors. In this scenario, the people assume that they have come to church primarily to do something. The emphasis is on their work for God. The preaching concentrates on principles and steps to living a better life, with a constant stream of exhortations: Be more committed. Read your Bible more. Pray more. Witness more. Give more. Get involved in this cause or that movement to save the world. Their calling by God to secular vocations is made secondary to finding their ministry in the church. (190)
In the first scenario, God gives and man receives. In the second scenario it is the reverse.
I think it was Kierkegaard who somewhere said that we should not think of worship as a performance of clergy with the congregation as audience, but as a performance of the congregation with God as audience. I have repeated this point in the past, but it amounts to the “second scenario” that Horton condemns. I’m certainly willing to be corrected, and I think Horton has a point here. Certainly in worship God is at work: speaking to us in the word, nurturing us in the sacraments.
But surely that is not the whole story. The biblical words for worship, such as the Hebrew abodah and the Greek leitourgos are action verbs. They can be translated “work,” and they refer originally to the work of priests. But in the New Testament, in Christ, believers are priests (1 Pet. 2:5, 9, Rev. 1:6, 5:10, 20:6). Certainly, worshipers have responsibilities in worship, if only to sing God’s praises with their whole heart and to respond to the word appropriately.
And beyond this, the New Testament says that all believers have gifts of the Spirit that are to be used in the ministry of the church (Rom. 12:4-9, 1 Cor. 12:4-14:25). Consequently, the picture of worship Paul presents in 1 Cor. 14:26-33) is not a picture of a clergyman standing in front of everybody, forbidding them to speak unless spoken to. It is rather a picture of the whole congregation participating, offering suggestions, bringing “lessons.” Similarly, the writer to the Hebrews speaks of worship as a time when believers come together stir up and encourage one another (10:24-25; compare Col. 3:16). It is incomprehensible to me that Horton should discuss the participation of believers in the ministry of the church without discussing these passages, but so far as I can tell he does not.
My conclusion is that in worship, and indeed in the whole ministry of the church, there is both giving and receiving. Why, then, is Horton’s account so imbalanced on the side of God’s giving and our receiving? Part of it is his commendable passion to exalt God’s grace. But another part is what we discussed before, his erroneous view of the relation of divine sovereignty and human responsibility. Again, he seems to think that any significant role for human beings detracts from God’s sovereignty, his grace. We saw earlier that this is not the case.
Certainly there are special responsibilities in the church that fall on ordained leaders, elders and deacons. But this does not relieve other believers of the responsibility to edify one another (Col. 3:16, Eph. 4:25, 29) and to represent Christ when we go into the world. As I indicated earlier, we all have a mandate to apply the word of God to the situations of our families and workplaces.
Christ and Other Things
There is a tension in this book, perhaps even a contradiction, between two different messages. In the first, there is an antithesis between a focus on Christ and a focus on anything else, so that the latter necessarily compromises the former and puts us on the road to Christless Christianity. In the second, it is fine to focus occasionally on the other things, but not too often. The other things are good in their place, but they should not be overemphasized.
The first perspective leads to the alarming and (in my view) overheated rhetoric about Christlessness. The second leads Horton to backtrack on the rhetoric.
There is in fact a lot of backtracking in this book. I indicated at the beginning that Horton backtracks on his title: he doesn’t really mean that the American church is Christless, only that it is headed that way. After criticizing the church for its emphasis on human fulfillment and happiness, he backtracks as follows:
By the way, I don’t think this means that we simply write off the desire for fulfillment and happiness. The gospel neither meets our narcissistic goals nor denies the truth of which they are a perversion. (34)
He is rather vague, however, as to what the truth is of which our felt needs are a perversion. Nor does he explain why he thinks that the whole American church, when it promotes human happiness, is not presenting true redemptive happiness.
As I mentioned earlier, Horton tends to avoid discussions of sanctification in favor of references to justification. And when authors discuss human responsibility in sanctification, he interprets them as bringing in works righteousness. Yet he backtracks,
Start with Christ (that is, the gospel) and you get sanctification in the bargain; begin with Christ and move on to something else, and you lose both. (62)
This is very vague. What is the difference between these two options? Is it that in the first the person embraces Christ and immediately receives sanctification with no process, no spiritual battle? As I indicated earlier, I believe that is unbiblical. And what does it mean to “begin with Christ and move on to something else?” Does that mean moving from Christ to some other savior and lord? If so, I would agree with Horton. In that case, you not only lose sanctification; you lose everything. But if it means “begin with Christ and move on to his influence in all the areas of life,” I can’t concur with his judgment. And I think that many of the people Horton condemns actually fall under this category.
More backtracking: We have seen that Horton is very critical of any talk of a personal, inner relationship with Christ. But then he says,
It is the Spirit who convicts us inwardly of our sin and drives us outside of ourselves to Christ, not only in the message of the gospel to which he testifies, but in the creaturely, public, and external means that he employs to do so. In this way, Christ and his saving work not only remain outside of us but penetrate our hearts so deeply that we are truly transformed and continually transformed by his grace. Therefore, intimacy and personal fellowship with Christ by his Spirit through the means of grace are not eliminated but secured—but without simply collapsing Jesus into our inner experience. (184)
This is a fine statement, but surprising. Horton evidently has not reflected how this concession affects his critiques of supposed Gnostics elsewhere in the book. Certainly Horton has not taken pains to show that the people he criticizes would disagree with it, or that their practice disagrees with it. Perhaps his point is that they don’t stress sufficiently the external character of the gospel and the means of grace. But it does not seem to me that the American church is oblivious to the means of grace. Nor do I think it biblical to think that the gospel can come only through public proclamation and not also through personal Bible reading and prayer.
After criticizing evangelical worship for emphasizing commands rather than grace, he qualifies his point,
Of course we do receive exhortations in Scripture, and therefore this must be a part of public worship. Law without gospel, however, is death (2 Cor. 3:5-18). (191)
But his argument in context is simply based on the presence of law in this worship, not the absence of gospel (a negative that would be very hard to prove).
The pattern in the above backpedaling passages is that Horton moves from a mood of absolute condemnation to a mood of granting some truth in the other position. The other position would be fine, he seems to think, if it is properly related to Christ. He is making now a subtle point. But he has not given enough thought either to the issue or to the people he criticizes to show that they have not actually missed his subtle point, that they have somehow not properly related law to gospel.
So Horton leaves us uncertain as to whether the practices he condemns in the American church contradict the gospel, or whether they are good practices that could be improved with some greater degree of gospel emphasis.
In my view, the key to this is to think, not in terms of “Christ and other things,” as Horton does, but of “Christ and the applications of his work.” The relationships between Christ and other things vary considerably, and are very complex. Horton does not succeed in giving us anything near an adequate presentation of this complexity. But in regard to “Christ and the applications of his work,” the matter is clear. This formula unambiguously sets forth the content of Scripture and the entire work of the church. Anything the church does that fails to serve and promote Christ and the applications of his work is indeed Christless, and a church that fails to promote Christ and the applications of his work is truly apostate. Any church that refuses to implement an application of Christ’s work compromises the truth of Scripture.
Yet the phrase “Christ and the applications of his work” also implies a hierarchy of focus or emphasis. Some applications are more central than others, and they ought to receive more attention in the church. Justification by grace through faith alone is a central application; the mode of baptism is less central, though advocates of one particular mode will see it as an application of Christ’s work.
To speak of “Christ and the applications of his work” is not to speak of two different things. For there is no Christ without these applications. To believe in Christ is to believe in the Christ of Scripture, the Christ who became incarnate, taught, worked miracles, died as our sacrifice, was raised to glory, and will come again to judge the living and the dead. It is also to believe that his atonement secures our effectual calling, regeneration, conversion, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance, and glorification. So it secures the Spirit’s presence so that we may serve Christ and receive his guidance in all areas of life. To believe in Christ is to believe in all of this, and also to believe in the law of love, his new commandment to his disciples (John 13:34-35). To believe in Christ is to seek his glory in all areas of life (1 Cor. 10:31-11:1).
Conclusion
I usually don’t review books at this length. But I have noticed that the theology of this book is becoming more influential in evangelical and Reformed circles, and I believe there is danger in that. I say that despite the fact that I agree with the book about many things. Most relevantly, I agree with Horton that the evangelical church needs to put more emphasis on man’s sin and the saving grace of Christ, less emphasis on what Horton regards as other things and what I regard as the lower-priority applications of Christ’s work. But he thinks this wrong emphasis is so bad as to put the church in immediate danger of Christless apostasy. I do not.
Horton’s alarmism is persuasive to many people, and I have been moved to try to show them their persuasion is premature. The problem is that the yardstick Horton uses to measure the American church’s allegiance to Christ is not an accurate yardstick. Or, to drop the metaphor, Horton measures the American church with a defective theology.
He comes on to the reader as a generic Protestant Christian with a passion for the historic doctrines of the atonement and of justification by faith alone. He writes engagingly. Naturally, then, other Protestants tend to resonate to his arguments. But Horton is not just a generic Protestant or even a generic Reformed theologian. He holds certain positions that are not warranted by the Reformed Confessions and which in my mind are not even Scriptural. To review, he advocates the following:
1. Attention to ourselves necessarily detracts from attention to Christ.
2. We should not give attention to the way we communicate the gospel, or to making it relevant to its hearers.
3. God’s sovereignty and human responsibility are a zero-sum game. The idea that man must do something compromises the absolute sovereignty of God.
4. God’s work of salvation is completely objective, external to us, and not at all subjective, internal to us. (Here he backtracks some.)
5. God promises us no earthly blessings, only heavenly ones, and to desire earthly blessings is a “theology of glory,” deserving condemnation.
6. Law and gospel should be utterly separate. There should be no good news in the bad news and no bad news in the good news.
7. Preaching of the gospel must never use biblical characters as moral or spiritual examples. Nor must it address practical ethical issues in the Christian life.
8. A focus on redemption excludes a focus on anything else.
9. In worship and in the general ministry of the church, God gives and does not receive; the congregation receives and does not give.
10. Analysts of the church must compare the Church’s focus on Christ with its focus on other things, rather than considering that many of these other things are in fact applications of Christ’s own person and work.
Horton considers adherence to these principles essential, so that departing from them constitutes Christlessness, and failure to emphasize them sufficiently leads to a false gospel. But not one of these principles is found in any Reformed confession. (#6 is found in the Lutheran confessions, but it is controversial among other Protestants.) And in my view, none of them are Scriptural.
So Christless Christianity is essentially an evaluation of the American church, not from the standpoint of a generic Protestant theology, but from what I must regard as a narrow, factional, even sectarian perspective. Readers need to understand this. If we remove #1-10 as measuring sticks for the American church, the church does not look nearly as bad as Horton presents it.
There is great danger here of further division within the body of Christ, as if there were not already enough. Arguments over redemptive-historical preaching (#7) have already split congregations apart. When one group presents these principles as the only orthodox position, but others (understandably) are not convinced, and the principles themselves are often unclear, we have a recipe for disaster.
And the church would do well, in my judgment, not to add principles 1-10 to its creed. The results could include intentional irrelevance (1-2), especially on social matters (5, 7, 8), Christian passivity (3, 9), intellectualism and impersonalism in our relation to God (4, 9), artificiality in preaching, not drawing on the richness of Scripture (2, 6-8), elimination of lay ministry (9), and poor theological analyses and evaluations of the church (10).
So I must render a negative verdict on this book, though commending the author’s passion for the purity of the church and for the gospel. In doing this, I must disagree with many friends and respected colleagues, who have commended this volume lavishly. They should have known better.
[1] Grand Rapids: BakerBooks, 2008.
[2] Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1923. Horton mentions Machen’s work on 176-77 of the volume under review.
[3] We shall see that he elsewhere complains about the bad news of God’s law being lightened by being mixed with good news. But here he is saying that there are good things mixed in with the terrible bad news that the church is headed for Hell.
[4] I have developed this concept of lordship in the books of my Theology of Lordship series, particularly The Doctrine of God (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2002), Chapters 1-7.
[5] Remarkably, one of his recurring arguments is that the “American church” has given improper weight to secular psychology. If this is true, should we not regard Horton’s argument as a symptom of this very error?
[6] This may be unfair, but I sometimes get the impression, here and in Horton’s other books, that many of his judgments of evangelicalism are based on aesthetic criteria of a rather elitist kind. He has a certain idea of what is “profound,” the opposite of vacuous, and he wants a religion that keeps God out of the areas of life he considers trivial. But in the Bible God delights in relating to the trivial. He cares about the falling sparrows, numbers the hairs of our heads, melts the snow in the spring, feeds all the animals in the world. And he cares about the griefs and joys of his people.
[7] Compare my longer discussion of the relation between interpretation and application in Doctrine of the Knowledge of God (Phillipsburg: P&R, 1987), 81-85.
[8] All translation is application. If we are forbidden to make the text relevant or apply the text, then we are shut up to reading Scripture to our congregations in the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.
[9] Consider the sentence, “efforts to translate the gospel into contemporary language actually aim at making the gospel not only more understandable but more believable.” Response: (1) I don’t know if this comment is true, as a description of the usual motives of Bible translators or teachers. (2) Certainly there is a sense in which a truth is more believable when it is better understood. (3) More understandable/believable than what? It would be wrong to try to make the gospel more understandable OR believable than it is in the Bible itself. But it is certainly not wrong to make it more understandable or believable than it is in previous translations. This kind of unclarity abounds in Horton’s book.
[10] As I read through this discussion, however, I often found myself saying, “Mike, pick on somebody your own size.” Osteen has no theological training and should not be asked to compete with a Ph. D. in a theological arena. A gentle critique of his main emphasis might be more appropriate.
[11] I fully acknowledge the deficiencies of “prosperity theology.” But those deficiencies should not force us to the opposite extreme of denying that obeying God brings blessings in our earthly life.
[12] He quotes Graeme Goldsworthy, The Goldsworthy Trilogy (Carlisle, UK: Paternoster Press, 2000), 137.
[13] Philip Lee, Against the Protestant Gnostics (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 144.
[14] Ibid., 255.
[15] A few words on the general relationship between objective and subjective reality. These are distinct concepts, but they are not separable, as if we could have one without the other. “Objective” usually refers to the way things really are, apart from how we would like them to be. “Subjective” refers to our own perception of the objective. These are opposites in a way: it is important that our understanding of God’s world be objective, rather than merely a reflection of our inner imaginations. If our thinking is merely subjective, and not objective, then it does not conform to truth, and it cannot be trusted. But we cannot have one without the other. The only way we can perceive or understand objective reality is by means of our subjective faculties (senses, reason, intuition, etc). And our subjective faculties are themselves objective realities, aspects of our nature that must be taken account of. The notion that we can have “objective” knowledge, assurance, etc. without any subjective involvement is nonsense. Similarly there is no objective salvation from sin unless our inner life, too, is saved and transformed. Salvation in Scripture re-creates the whole person (2 Cor. 5:17, 1 Thess. 5:23).
[16] Sometimes this controversy has been described as a controversy over the “third use of the law.” The first use is to restrain sin in society. The second use is to condemn us so that we will flee to Christ. (In the literature, the first and second use are sometimes interchanged.) The third use is as a guide to the believer’s life. Among the Lutherans, some rejected the third use, because for them the law always brings condemnation. Those who favored the third use thought that believers need continuing condemnation so that we will continually flee to Christ. Calvinists favored the third use simply because it declares how redeemed people should behave.
[17] Horton quotes Osteen as saying that we receive God’s blessing and favor in return for our efforts and equates this with works righteousness (87-88). Here Horton misses the fact that God’s blessings come in at two points in our salvation: (1) the ultimate initiation of salvation, and (2) the blessings he gives us for our obedience. Clearly Osteen in the quoted context is talking about (2), but Horton reads him as talking about (1) and therefore preaching works righteousness, that is that our works are what move God to initiate salvation.
[18] I have criticized the position of the Lutheran Formula of Concord at some length in my article “Law and Gospel,” http://www.frame-poythress.org/frame_articles/2002Law.htm, cf. my The Doctrine of the Christian Life (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2008), 182-192.
[19] I would have expected him to say that such attempts are “law-lite” (69) rather than real law, because they don’t present God’s condemnation.
[20] If we give “gospel” a broader definition, as I did earlier in this review, it is possible to say that all Scripture is gospel. But it is similarly possible to say that all Scripture is law, worldview, ethical guidance, etc.
[21] I have expounded this worldview in many places, such as the first seven chapters of my Doctrine of God (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2002).
Review of Michael Horton, Christless Christianity: The Alternative Gospel of the American Church[1]
John M. Frame
The title of this book is alarming, certainly by design. But the subtitle is even more so. Does it mean that the whole American church (all traditions, denominations, locations) is committed to an “alternative Gospel?” Or is it that, though part of the American church upholds the true, biblical gospel, there is within that church a movement (evidently a significant movement) to the contrary?
We should keep in mind that such language makes the most serious indictments. To be Christless is to be doomed to Hell (John 3:36). And if someone preaches an “alternative gospel,” contrary to the gospel preached by the apostle Paul, he is to be accursed (Gal. 1:8-9). People who preach “another gospel” are not Christian friends who happen to disagree with us on this or that matter. Rather, they have betrayed Christ himself. The whole church ought to rise up against such persons and declare that they are not part of the body of Christ and that they have no part in the blessings of salvation. Indeed, if they do not repent, they have no future except eternal punishment.
In my view, many Christians (especially those in the conservative Reformed tradition that Horton and I both inhabit) use this sort of language far too loosely, even flippantly. It is time we learned that when we criticize someone for preaching “another gospel” we are doing nothing less than cursing him, damning him to Hell.
But Horton actually indicates to his readers that these charges are not to be taken seriously. So Horton backs away from the serious language of his title:
Before I launch this protest, I should carefully state up front what I am not saying. First, I acknowledge that there are many churches, pastors, missionaries, evangelists, and distinguished Christian laypeople around the world, proclaiming Christ and fulfilling their vocations with integrity. (20)
So evidently “Christless Christianity” is not the gospel of the American church. Many of its members are assuredly not Christless. Further,
Second, I am not arguing in this book that we have arrived at Christless Christianity but that we are well on our way. (20)
Whew! Evidently Christless Christianity is not yet the gospel of the American church, though we are on our way to adopting it.
This is something of a “bait and switch.” Horton scares us to death with his brash title, telling us that we are headed for Hell. But then he backtracks, says he didn’t really mean it.
Since Horton spends a great part of this book telling us that we have lost seriousness about the issues of God’s law and gospel, we should hold him also to a high standard of seriousness. To say that we are under God’s curse, and then to turn around and say, “well, not really,” is not to meet such a standard. We might conclude that Horton is not joking here about holy things, but he is “well on his way.”
In any case, what is it that, according to Horton, has put us “well on our way” to denying Christ? We might expect that Horton sees a rebirth of the liberalism J. Gresham Machen complained about in Christianity and Liberalism,[2] in which Christ is merely a teacher and example, not the Son of God who died and rose to save sinners. In various updated forms, liberalism is still with us, to be sure. But that is not Horton’s concern in this volume. Rather, he says that for us to drift toward Christless Christianity,
There need not be explicit abandonment of any key Christian teaching, just a set of subtle distortions and not-so-subtle distractions. Even good things can cause us to look away from Christ and to take the gospel for granted as something we needed for conversion but which now can be safely assumed and put in the background. Center stage, however, is someone or something else. (20)
Notice how far we have come. From “Christless Christianity” and “alternative gospel,” to “well on our way,” we are now exploring “subtle distortions and not-so-subtle distractions,” even “good things” that detract from Christ.[3]
What are these subtle distortions? Evidently, what Horton is concerned with is an emphasis. The metaphors of “looking away from” Christ and putting something else on “center stage” have to do with the emphasis we put on Christ.
Now arguing about emphasis in theology is tricky and, as Horton admits, subtle. And it’s even trickier if we argue by way of metaphors. If a person trusts Christ as lord and savior, the person in one sense will always have him on “center stage.” That’s what lordship means. The lord is the one before whom we bow, whom we acknowledge as having supreme power, authority, and personal presence in our lives.[4] His actions and words are more important to us than any others.
But in our continuing sinfulness, we do sometimes “look away” from Christ, in the sense that we are tempted to sin, and we do sin. When that happens, have we pushed Jesus from “center stage?” Not in the sense mentioned in the last paragraph. The lord can never be displaced. Nothing can separate us from his love, not even our own sin. But “center stage” is a metaphor, and perhaps in some contexts it can designate, not the position of lordship, but a position of relative emphasis. If the latter, then it is indeed possible for us to push Jesus away from center stage.
But what exactly does that mean? What does it mean to “look away from” Jesus, or to push him (metaphorically!) from “center stage?” Certainly Horton does not want to say that we need to be thinking “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” through every waking moment. Certainly Scripture doesn’t require that. God’s creation is good, and it is perfectly legitimate to think about that creation sometimes and not always of him. It is right that we think often of Jesus, but also of bananas, symphonies, and international affairs. To do that is surely not to push Jesus from center stage, or to look away from him. Horton admits this:
Of course I am not denying… that Christians should have an interest in pressing issues of the day or that there is an important place for applying biblical teaching to our conduct in the world. But with Lewis I am concerned that when the church’s basic message is less about who Christ is and what he has accomplished once and for all for us and more about who we are and what we have to do in order to make his life (and ours) relevant to the culture, the religion that is made “relevant” is no longer Christianity. (145-46)
But “basic,” “less,” and “more” are relative terms. How much is too much? How much is just enough? Must every preacher spend a certain percentage of his time on Christ and the fundamental gospel, and another percentage on other things? Or may the percentages vary from week to week? Some churches have maintained the policy of having a gospel invitation in every service. Is that a good thing?
Is there a precise way to measure what the proper emphasis ought to be? One sometimes hears that preachers fail to emphasize exactly what Scripture emphasizes, in the same degree that Scripture emphasizes it. This is a little closer to Horton’s actual argument. But a little reflection will make it evident that such a complaint is incoherent. No preacher can possibly emphasize exactly, precisely, what Scripture emphasizes. This is the case, not only because of our human frailty (nobody can calculate the Bible’s emphasis precisely) but because of the very nature of preaching. Preaching is not the Bible; it is a communication of the Bible. The only way a preacher could maintain precisely the same emphasis as Scripture would be for him to simply read Scripture from the pulpit, from Genesis to Revelation, in the original languages. But preaching is not the reading of Scripture. Its words are not the same as those of Scripture. The preacher takes the words of Scripture and puts them into different words, in order to communicate with, to edify his congregation. Edifying a congregation may, and often does, require the preacher to give certain topics an emphasis different from that of Scripture itself. And it always involves applying biblical teaching to extra-biblical situations, to our lives.
Given the difficulty of formulating a normative emphasis for preaching, or for a church’s ministry, given the “subtlety” of the question, I would think that we should moderate somewhat the language of our critique. We should be wary of cocksureness and dogmatism. We ought to discuss these matters in an atmosphere of brotherhood, charity, and civility. Certainly we should hold back on extreme language like “Christless” and “alternative gospel.”
But we must get still more specific. What kind of wrong emphasis is Horton concerned about? Horton’s main complaints, I think, can be grouped around a number of twofold distinctions:
1. God and Ourselves
Horton says,
…The focus still seems to be on us and our activity rather than on God and his work in Jesus Christ. In all these approaches, there is the tendency to make God a supporting character in our own life movie rather than to be rewritten as new characters in God’s drama of redemption… we end up saying very little that the world could not hear from Dr. Phil, Dr. Laura, or Oprah.(18)
…we are focused on ourselves and our activity more than on God and his saving work among us… the “search for the sacred” in America is largely oriented to what happens inside of us, in our own personal experience, rather than on what God has done for us in history. (18)
…God and Jesus are still important, but more as part of the supporting cast in our own show. (20)
So the wrong emphasis in his view is an emphasis on ourselves rather than on God and his work of saving us from sin in Jesus Christ. In Horton’s view, modern American churches proclaim God as a means to human happiness (69).
As we have seen, this talk of “focus” or “emphasis” is very vague, so these kinds of charges are very difficult to prove. And given the radical nature of Horton’s charges (or at least his language) we ought to demand a rigorous case.
He claims that these charges are based on “recent studies” (20), and he says that he will
…offer statistics supporting the remarkable conclusion that those who were raised in “Bible-believing” churches know as little of the Bible’s actual content as their unchurched neighbors. (22)
If there are any actual statistics in this book, I must have missed them. What Horton provides are quotes from sociologists, historians, and psychiatrists, mostly secular, who say some of the same things he does. He quotes Newsweek (35), Karl Menninger (35), Robert Jay Lifton (35), Philip Rieff (36), Neil McCormick (36), Marsha Witten (48) Philip Lee (170) and others. He devotes a number of pages to Harold Bloom, who, he says, is sympathetic to Gnosticism rather than Christianity (170-75). But he never presents their raw data or presents a critical analysis of the arguments from which these people reached their conclusions.[5]
In the absence of serious argument, I default to my habitual skepticism toward critiques of evangelicalism by non-evangelicals. Horton may think that the very lack of Christian faith among these writers makes them more credible. I beg to differ. To accept conclusions as radical as Horton’s, I need to see at least one careful study by a mature evangelical believer, who is also a careful statistician, and who shows me his/her work. For statistical science is not religiously neutral. When Newsweek, for example, says that Christians are seeking “peace of mind” (35) why should we assume that the reporter is able to distinguish between a mere psychological comfort and the peace that Scripture promises to God’s people (John 14:27, 16:33, Rom. 1:7, Phil. 4:7)? When the reporter notes that Christians seek “personal transformation” (35), why should we assume that he understands the difference between psychological healing on the one hand and biblical regeneration and sanctification on the other? And why should we assume that he understands the relationship between sanctification and psychological healing? A mature evangelical Christian sociologist would at least have these distinctions in mind, and he might understand the ambiguities of the language he cites. But I have no reason to attribute such discernment to Horton’s authorities. We need to remember that the issue here is not only factual (what the churches do) but doctrinal (whether their activities are biblical). So I must ask, by what authority do secular sociologists, historians, and psychologists make judgments about Christian doctrine and preaching?
If Horton had taken the trouble, he might have at least asked the churches and pastors being studied how they would reply to these allegations. With the exceptions of Robert Schuller and Joel Osteen, who even Horton must regard as extreme examples, he has not seen fit to do this.
Speaking, perhaps presumptuously, for “the American church,” let me attempt a reply. For what it is worth, my own perception of American evangelicalism is very different from Horton’s. My observation is anecdotal (just like his, in the final analysis), but based on around 55 years of adult observation in many different kinds of churches including the much maligned mega-churches. In most every evangelical church I have visited or heard about, the “focus” is on God in Christ. There has been something of a shift over the years in what Horton would call a “subjective” direction. But that is best described not as unfaithfulness, but as a shift toward more application of Scripture to people’s external situations and inner life. There is a greater interest in sanctification (not just justification), on Christianity as a world view, on believers’ obligations to one another, on love within the body of Christ, and in the implications of Scripture for social justice.
I don’t see this as wrong, or unbiblical. Indeed, I think this general trend is an improvement over the state of affairs fifty years ago. Scripture is certainly concerned about these matters, and we ought to teach and learn what it has to say. Indeed, a “focus on God” that neglects scrutiny of ourselves does not honor God at all. As Calvin says on the first page of his Institutes, we cannot know ourselves without knowing God, and we can’t know God without knowing ourselves. And Calvin (rather unlike Horton) says that he doesn’t know which comes first. The Westminster Shorter Catechism says as its answer to Question 1, “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and enjoy him forever.” (Emphasis mine.) So it is possible to have a God-centered view of human experience and subjectivity, a human “focus” that detracts not one bit from a biblical God-centeredness.
Consider Ps. 18:
I love you, O LORD, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
My God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
My shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call on the LORD, who is worthy to be praised,
And I am saved from my enemies.
Like many Psalms, this song includes lavish use of the first person singular personal pronoun, “I,” “me,” “my—“maybe 75 occurrences. But will anyone claim that this Psalm is anything but God-centered?
The God of Scripture is not Moloch. He does not demand human sacrifice as the price of honoring him. Misery is not his goal for us. Rather, he delights in delivering and sanctifying his people. “Focus” is not a zero-sum game, where every bit of attention to God must detract from man and vice versa.
So, contrary to Horton, there is a sense in which God is a means to our happiness. Not, of course, a mere means. He is not only a means, not primarily that, but he is certainly that. Scripture presents redemption as precisely a means to our happiness. The story of the Bible is the story of how God came into a fallen world to save human beings from sin and give them happiness with him. Eternal happiness, certainly, but also the blessings of this life. The “blessed” of the Beatitudes (Matt. 5:1-12) is sometimes translated “happy.” Our happiness is based on our reward in heaven (verse 12), but the thought of that reward brings rejoicing in our present life (12). So the New Testament is full of exhortations to rejoice (e.g. Phil. 4:4), not to be anxious (Phil. 4:6-7), to enjoy the peace of God (Phil. 4:7). Jesus even promises his disciples “now, in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life” (Mark 10:30). The Psalms speak often of a covenant God who rescues his people from danger and leads them into green pastures, beside still waters. Proverbs says that keeping God’s commandments brings length of days and years of life and peace (Prov. 3:1-2). Paul speaks of the contentment God gives to him in the midst of hardships (2 Cor. 12:9-10). The promise of prosperity to those who honor their parents continues under the new covenant (Eph. 6:1-3). Compare 1 Tim. 4:8, 1 Pet. 3:8-12.
It is amazing, certainly, that God, who deserves all praise, worship, and service, comes into history to serve us in this way. In Luke 12:37, Jesus says,
Blessed are those servants whom the master finds awake when he comes. Truly, I say to you, he will dress himself for service and have them recline at table, and he will come and serve them.
Horton himself (194) stresses this verse in articulating his view of worship. He complains that in the worship of Willow Creek Community Church there is no reference to “God’s activity in serving his people” (194). I shall discuss this issue at a later point. But if this is a biblical representation, then it is not unbiblical to say, or even to emphasize, that God is concerned to bless human beings.
To say this does not at all compromise God’s transcendence, holiness and majesty. Indeed, it honors these. One reason God is worthy of praise is that he is big enough to know and care about every detail in the universe and particularly the affairs of his people. Horton complains that the concept of God in the American church has become “vacuous” (23)[6] because the church focuses on such things as
Discipleship, spiritual disciplines, life transformation, culture transformation, relationships, marriage and family, stress, the spiritual gifts, financial gifts, radical experience of conversion, and end-times curiosities… (26)
Except possibly for the last item, it seems to me that everything on this list is a concern of Scripture itself and deserves to be emphasized in the church in some degree. We can argue about the exact degree, but that argument is not likely to be fruitful. These are matters that God cares about. Horton may think that to preach on them is something different from preaching Christ, but a more biblical assessment is that these are implications and applications of the work of Christ, and that we are not preaching Christ fully unless we preach on these applications. God sent his Son to die for real people, for us, and that salvation changes every aspect of our lives. So we live by every word that comes from the mouth of God, not only by those that are about Christ in some relatively direct fashion.
Now, certainly there is a kind of selfishness that detracts from biblical discipleship. Scripture warns of this (Luke 12:21; cf. Matt. 6:19-20). The self can be an idol, something we worship in place of God. Choosing an object of worship is certainly a zero-sum game. If Horton can show that the emphasis on human beings in the modern church amounts to idolatry, then his alarming language may be appropriate. But to show that, and to distinguish it from a legitimate concern with the self, is a task requiring some hard reflection, and I have not found that in Christless Christianity.
Scripture also rebukes Christians for our tendency to neglect others in order to please ourselves (Rom. 15:1). This is a sin, and it does detract from our faithfulness to God. But not every concern with self is selfish. It is wrong to covet, but not every desire for earthly goods is coveting. It is not wrong to desire food (Matt. 4:2), drink (John 19:28-29), sleep (Luke 8:23), sex (Gen. 2:22-23, Song of Solomon), children (Gen. 30:22-23, 1 Sam. 1:17, Ps. 127:3-5), or a better dwelling (Prov. 24:27). Horton takes no trouble to make such distinctions, thereby losing credibility for his attack on the American church.
2. Scripture and its Application
Showing how the teachings of Scripture are related to us is what I call “application.” In this sense, preaching, teaching, and theology are all kinds of application. The application of Scripture shows us how Scripture ought to change our beliefs, actions, feelings, indeed every aspect of human life (1 Cor. 10:31). As I mentioned earlier, preaching cannot possibly have the precise emphasis that Scripture has, for its work is not to replicate Scripture but to apply Scripture to its readers.
In this sense, it is wrong to distinguish “interpretation” from “application” in preaching.[7] Often people think that interpretation shows the original thrust of the biblical words to its original audience, while application relates the passage to us today. But a closer look reveals that even in expounding the “original thrust of the biblical words” we are putting those words into categories that are meaningful to modern hearers and readers. There is no point in the preparation of sermons and lessons at which we can ignore the contemporary audience.
The distinction between Scripture and its application, and the important role of each, seem to elude Horton in this book. There is a constant polemic in the book against people who try to “make Jesus and the gospel relevant to people in our own time and place” (144). But certainly, when most people talk about making the gospel relevant, what they mean is simply applying it in the sense above. But Horton senses something nefarious about this project. He replies to such people,
But what does it say about Jesus Christ if the relevance of his person and work cannot stand on its own? Sure, Christ came as “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), but can he help me get that promotion at work or relieve my stress? (144-45)
In the first place, yes, Jesus can help me get a promotion and he can relieve my stress. As we saw in the previous section, God is concerned about human happiness, even in the details of our lives. But why does Horton need to take “relevance” only in this sort of way? Making Scripture relevant is also finding contemporary words[8] to describe and illustrate justification by grace through faith alone, a project Horton himself often engages in.
What does Horton mean by his question, “what does it say about Jesus Christ if the relevance of his person and work cannot stand on its own?” Here, he evidently fails to distinguish between objective and subjective relevance. Objectively, Jesus is relevant to us, whether we preach and teach about him or not. But “making him relevant” as the phrase is generally used, is about subjective relevance, namely helping people to understand and apply the objective relevance of Christ. “Making him relevant” communicates his objective relevance for all to appreciate, in their own languages, in their own cultural and individual situations.
Does Horton really think that we should make no effort to apply, to communicate the relevance of Christ to people today? He has little sympathy with those who are concerned about communicating the gospel. He quotes George Barna, who says that Jesus was a “communications specialist” and commends Jesus’ various methods of communicating with people. Barna makes various comparisons between Jesus’ communications methods and those of modern advertisers. Horton replies,
The question that naturally arises in the fact of such remarks is whether it is possible to say that Jesus made anything new. (47)
I confess I cannot find any reasonable correlation between Barna’s remarks and Horton’s reply, unless Horton is rebuking all interest in communication. Barna’s comparisons between Jesus and modern advertisers are a bit crass, but not entirely wrong. There are parallels between divine communication and human communication. But even if we reject Barna’s examples, it seems to me that for the sake of the gospel we ought certainly to take pains in learning how best to communicate it. That’s what the preaching departments of seminaries, including the seminary where Horton teaches, try to do. If we forswear all interest in communication, these departments have no reason to exist. The notion that “God’s relevance stands on its own” will not help young preachers as they struggle to learn how to communicate with their congregations.
Horton is particularly adamant against those who preach to “felt needs:”
Only when God’s law—his holiness, majesty, and moral will—creates in us a sense of our moral offensiveness to God does the gospel communicate deeper answers that our felt needs and cheap cravings only mask.(34)
Evidently, felt needs and cheap cravings are not far apart for Horton. Why?
We need to recover that sense so pervasive in other periods: namely, that even Christians do not know what they really need or even want and that attending to their immediate felt needs may muffle the only proclamation that can actually satisfy real needs. (240) Compare 97, 246).
I agree with Horton that this can happen. But I don’t think that it necessarily happens. Many felt needs of people today are recognized in Scripture as real needs: the need for good marriages, confidence in the future, personal integrity, for example. Others, such as the need for political harmony, a safe environment, good education are not specifically addressed in Scripture, but are certainly subject to the application of biblical principles. When churches show that the gospel addresses these needs, they can accomplish a lot of good. They should make clear, of course, that these needs are rooted in deeper needs, or they will not be addressing the felt needs adequately. But I don’t think the answer is to forbid the church from talking about anything that people are presently concerned about.
The communication and application of Scripture are essential to the church’s ministry. It is unbelievable that Horton seems to be discouraging them.
3. God’s Sovereignty and Human Responsibility
Horton’s aversion to communication sometimes seems to arise from an erroneous view of the relation between divine sovereignty and human responsibility. Horton says,
No more translating the gospel! The gospel is an offense at precisely the same points and for the same reasons as always. Efforts to translate the gospel into contemporary language actually aim at making the gospel not only more understandable but more believable. The problem is that the gospel is so counterintuitive to our fallen pride that it cannot be believed apart from a miracle of divine grace. (240)
This comment is terribly confused.[9] It seems to be saying that since salvation is by grace we need not make any effort to translate it into contemporary language. Should we, then, preach in Hebrew, or Greek, or Serbo-Croatian? Should we make the gospel as obscure as possible so as to avoid catering to fallen pride? Should we present it as something irrational, in order to maintain the offense of the cross? Perhaps we should not preach at all, in order to let God do the work.
This sounds as though human effort necessarily compromises God’s sovereignty. But that is a serious theological error. In some areas, God does all the work and we do nothing, examples being creation out of nothing and the gift of saving grace in Christ. But in many other areas, God works through created means, particularly through the work of human beings. For example, it is God who will gather his elect to himself; but, according to the Great Commission, he will do this through human beings who go and make disciples of all nations. Certainly that includes translating, interpreting, applying, and communicating the gospel message. In this case, divine sovereignty and human responsibility are not a zero-sum game, in which each detracts from the other. Salvation is God’s work from first to last. But in part of that process he employs human beings to do his work. And that employment brings glory to him, rather than detracting from his glory.
Another dimension of the sovereignty/responsibility issue arises in Horton’s critique of Joel Osteen. I will certainly not defend the main thrust of Osteen’s preaching, and I think many of Horton’s criticisms of him carry weight.[10] Osteen is surely preoccupied with realizing human potential rather than with sin and grace. (Of course, what he speaks of is God-given human potential and God-redeemed human potential, not autonomous human potential, as we might assume from Horton’s discussion.) But Horton seems to want to take the critique farther. He says that for Osteen,
God may be the source of this blessing [accomplishing our dreams—JF] in an ultimate sense, since he set things up, but whether we actually receive God’s favor and blessings depends entirely on our attitude, action, and obedience. (84)
I think the word “entirely” overstates Osteen’s position, but certainly he does believe that our attitudes, actions, and obedience are necessary to receive the full blessings of God’s grace. Here I think Osteen is quite right, though Horton associates his position with Pelagianism and Gnosticism. Scripture often teaches that obedience is the road to the fullness of God’s blessing, indeed that obedience is the mark of a living faith. See Matt. 5:1-12, 43-45, 6:2-6, Gal. 5:6, James 2:14-26. Paul presents the proper balance:
…work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. (Phil. 2:12b-13).
God’s work in Christ is sufficient for our salvation. But there is also the “working out” of salvation, its application to all aspects of human life. God works sovereignly in both aspects of salvation. But in the second aspect he employs our efforts, our attitudes, actions, and obedience to achieve his sovereign purposes. Certainly it is not wrong to say that the best life for a human being now (to allude to the title of Osteen’s book) is a life in which we grow in obedience. Nor is it wrong to say, as I indicated earlier, that there are earthly blessings as well as heavenly blessings to those who live God’s way.[11] Further, it is not wrong to say that we should “think positively” about God’s favor on us and his good purposes for us, even though all of us are called to endure suffering. Nor is it wrong to say that since we are created in God’s image and receive gifts of the Spirit we have “potential” we should seek to realize.
In Osteen’s preaching and writing, there is not nearly enough emphasis on the source of this potential in God’s saving grace. But Horton scarcely acknowledges at all that such potential exists, that there is biblical ground for thinking positively about ourselves, or that our obedience plays a role in appropriating the blessings of salvation. If he did, he would give Osteen at least some small degree of credit, rather than reading him in the worst possible sense, as a pure representative of Pelagianism. So, rather than a carefully thought-out critique of Osteean, Horton merely presents an opposite extreme.
For Horton, again, the relation between divine sovereignty and human responsibility is a zero sum game. Any recognition of human effort detracts from God’s sovereignty, and vice versa. I cannot regard this understanding as biblical.
4. The Objective and the Subjective
The above discussion casts some light on another theme of this book, one which Horton develops in many of his writings. Horton often emphasizes his view that the gospel focuses (again, note the relative term) on the “outer” rather than the “inner,” what happens outside of us, rather than what happens within us, the objective rather than the subjective. He quotes Goldsworthy,
The pivotal point of turning in evangelical thinking which demands close attention is the change that has taken place from the Protestant emphasis on the objective facts of the gospel in history, to the medieval emphasis on the inner life. The evangelical who sees the inward transforming work of the Spirit as the key element of Christianity will soon lose contact with the historic faith and the historic gospel. (152)[12]
As he accused Osteen of Pelagianism, Horton has a historical category for those who focus on the inner life:
Gnosticism identified God with the inner self, but Christianity has focused all of its resources on God outside of us, who creates, rules, judges, and saves us in our complete personal and corporate existence. It stands to reason that in the Gnostic scheme the inner self could stand above (even over against) not only the external church but its external ministry of preaching and sacrament, discipline and order, catechesis and communion. After all, it is not the public, historical, visible, and messy world that concerns Gnostics but the private, spiritual, invisible, and manageable world of the inner spirit. (186)
So those who “focus” on the inner life are “Gnostics,” or perhaps “well on their way” to Gnosticism. Horton is not sparing of the “Gnostic” label for anyone who gives attention to the inner life. (Osteen is both Pelagian and Gnostic, as Horton sees him.) I think this is quite inappropriate. Gnosticism, as Horton says, “identified God with the inner self.” Do we really want to say that Osteen does this? Or any other evangelical preacher Horton discusses?
In general, it is wrong to discuss “subtle” (Horton’s term) questions by the ruthless application of historical models. Horton is, of course, primarily a historian, so he leaps to analogies with historical movements like Pelagianism and Gnosticism. But these movements themselves took varied forms, and neither is a perfect match for any movement existing today. It is not fair to bring up such a historical movement as if it presents a complete parallel (and therefore serves as an adequate critique) of some modern development. Issues like this, especially issues that could result in someone being called “Christless,” deserve more careful reflection than this. But in this book, it seems that any time someone reflects on the inner life, Horton plops the Gnostic label on him.
When Chuck Smith says “We meet God in the realm of our spirit,” Horton finds Gnostic influence (178). That is extremely doubtful. The distinction of spirit and body is biblical (though theological use of it requires some clarification), and it has been common in all traditions of the church including the Reformed. The “spirituality of the church” has been a significant concept in American Christianity, and though I have some problems with it I suspect that Horton approves of the notion. I don’t accuse Horton or others who agree with this concept of Gnosticism. He should not accuse Chuck Smith either.
And on 182, he implies that it is Gnostic to say, as in the gospel song, that Jesus lives “within my heart” (182). But the Westminster Confession of Faith 18.2 mentions as its third ground of the assurance of salvation that the Spirit witnesses with our spirits that we are the children of God (Rom. 8:15-16). Jesus does indeed live in us in and through the Spirit. Is the Confession Gnostic?
Biblically, this loose attribution of Gnosticism to anyone who focuses on the inner life is quite wrong. As I indicated earlier, Scripture is about both God and man. In Scripture, God seeks his own glory, and he also seeks human happiness. The two don’t contradict one another. It is not a zero-sum game. Psalms like Ps. 18 that reflect most deeply on human need of God are among the most God-centered. God delights in the happiness of his people.
Much of that happiness is what we might call “inner” happiness. God grants relief from anxiety (Phil. 4:6), inner peace (verse 7). David deals with his anxiety over evildoers in Ps. 37 and 73, working out his “envy” of the arrogant (73:3). He concludes that it is good for him to “be near” to God (verse 28). (If that statement weren’t in the Bible, Horton would certainly accuse it of Gnosticism.) Jesus tells his disciples not to let their heart be troubled (John 14:1). The fruit of the Spirit is a revolution in our inward character (Gal. 5:17-24). Need we argue that true faith in God is a matter of the heart (Matt. 23:25-26)?
By his Spirit, Christ is in us (Rom. 8:10-11, Col. 1:27) and works in us (Phil. 1:6, 2:12-13). He does “live in our heart” by the Spirit. Against Horton’s emphasis in Chapter Five, our relation to Christ is fully personal. Is this Gnosticism? Perhaps the Gnostics took such language and distorted it for their own purposes, the destruction of the creator-creature distinction. But for the most part Horton writes as if it is wrong (Gnostic) even to reflect on our inner relationship with God. Clearly the distinction between Gnosticism and biblical inwardness requires a more careful analysis than Horton provides. What is needed here is not only the gifts of a historian, but also the gifts of systematic theologians and exegetes.
On 178, Horton cites Philip Lee as saying,
Whereas classical Calvinism has held that the Christian’s assurance of salvation was guaranteed only through Christ and his Church, with his means of grace, now assurance could be found only in the personal experience of having been born again. This was a radical shift, for Calvin had considered any attempt to put ‘conversion in the power of man himself’ to be gross popery.[13]
There is so much wrong with this quotation, I must number my objections. (1) This is another example of many in Horton’s book that try to resolve theological issues by history (“classical Calvinism” vs. “popery”) rather than Scripture. (2) To speak of being born again as a ground of assurance is not to put conversion in the power of man. The new birth is precisely not in the power of man, and Calvin would never have said that it was. (3) Certainly Christ is the ground of our assurance, but how does he assure us? To say that he assures us only through the external institution of the church is as papist as can be imagined. (4) The actual Reformation ground of assurance is three-sided, as in the Westminster Confession of Faith, 18.2: the “divine truth of the promises of salvation,” the “inward evidence of those graces unto which these promises are made,” and “the testimony of the Spirit of adoption witnessing with our spirits that we are the children of God.” (5) Lee’s statement says nothing about the promises, which are central. (6) The other two grounds mentioned in the Confession are inward and subjective. Both have clear biblical support. See 2 Pet. 1:5-11, Rom. 8:16-17.
Horton also quotes Lee as saying that the new birth was the opposite of “rebirth into a new and more acceptable self”; it was the death of the old self and its rebirth in Christ.[14] Certainly the new birth involves out death and resurrection in Christ, but that resurrection is to “newness of life” (Rom. 6:4). The old self dies, but the new self is certainly more acceptable: acceptable to God and to discerning believers.
Salvation in the Bible is not only justification, being declared righteous for Christ’s sake, but also sanctification, being transformed from within by the Spirit of God. Horton does refer occasionally to sanctification in the book. On 62, he notes rightly that sanctification, like justification, comes through the gospel (here as opposed to “gimmicks”). On 109, he says, “when faith alone receives the gift, it immediately begins to yield the fruit of righteousness.” True enough, as far as it goes. But unlike justification, sanctification is not simply given to us once for all. Scripture does not tell us merely to receive passively the gift of sanctification. Rather, there is a race to be run and a battle to be fought. Scripture constantly exhorts us to make efforts, to make the right choices. As I emphasized in section 3, there is not a zero sum here between divine sovereignty and human responsibility. Rather, God energizes our efforts and brings them to fruition. We work out our own salvation, knowing that God is working ”in” us.
Scripture refers over and over again to sanctification and the inner life. Horton’s references to it are almost entirely negative. If the argument about Christless Christianity is an argument about focus, it seems to me that Horton’s own focus needs rethinking.[15]
5. Theology of the Cross and the Theology of Glory
Another way Horton discourages the application of Scripture to our inner life and to our everyday life is by the Reformation contrast between theologies of glory and of the cross.
Horton explains that God intends to glorify his people “up ahead” (91) but not in this life. (I agree that in general our glorification is part of the next life rather than this one. But I wonder if Horton has considered in this regard John 17:22, 2 Cor. 3:18, Eph. 3:13, 1 Thess. 2:20, 1 Pet. 1:8? As elsewhere in this book, Horton oversimplifies.) In this life we “share in Christ’s suffering and humiliation.” To accept such suffering is to hold the theology of the cross. To seek glory on earth is to hold a theology of glory. It is “the offering of the kingdoms of the world here and now” (96). In a number of places, he equates the theology of glory with Gnosticism. We recall Horton’s criticism of anyone who seeks happiness from God here and now. They are, in his estimation, Gnostics, or theologians of glory.
But I argued in section #1 that God does in fact grant blessings to his people in this life. Certainly greater ones await, and we must not expect God to give us everything at once. But it is not fair for Horton to slap the label “Gnosticism” or “theology of glory” on anyone who seeks a closer walk with God, a more godly inner life, or God’s intervention in the ordinary problems of life.
6. Law and Gospel
In this book, as in previous books, Horton places much emphasis on the distinction between law and gospel. Here, he says that it is the failure to properly distinguish law and gospel that has put the American church on the road to Christless Christianity. “The worst thing that can happen to the church,” he says, “is to confuse law and gospel” (122). What happens is that
When even good, holy, and proper things become confused with the gospel, it is only a matter of time before we end up with Christless Christianity: a story about us instead of a story about the Triune God that sweeps us into the unfolding drama. (109)
Horton distinguishes law and gospel as follows:
It is important to point out that law and gospel do not simply refer to the Ten Commandments and John 3:16, respectively. Everything in the Bible that reveals God’s moral expectations is law and everything in the Bible that reveals God’s saving purposes and acts is gospel. (109)
Certainly “law” and “gospel” are not synonymous. I would define the distinction between them pretty much as Horton does. But Horton vacillates in his definitions. Sometimes, as we’ve seen, he regards any expression of God’s moral expectations as law, but other times, he seems to think that “law” must have an additional element: pronouncement of condemnation. Note:
The bad news is far worse than making mistakes or failing to live up to the legalistic standards of fundamentalism. It is that the best efforts of the best Christians, on the best days, in the best frame of heart and mind, with the best motives fall short of the true righteousness and holiness that God requires. Our best efforts cannot satisfy God’s justice. Yet the good news is that God has satisfied his own justice and reconciled us to himself through the life, death, and resurrection of his Son. God’s holy law can no longer condemn us because we are in Christ. (91)
So Horton is able to criticize Osteen as follows:
There is no condemnation in Osteen’s message for failing to fulfill God’s righteous law. On the other hand, there is no justification. Instead of either message, there is an upbeat moralism that is somewhere in the middle: Do your best, follow the instructions I give you, and God will make your life successful. (69)
He calls Osteen’s message “Law-Lite: Salvation from Unhappiness by Doing Your Best” (69, section title). So evidently Osteen’s moral exhortations don’t really constitute law, even though they “reveal God’s moral expectations.” To preach the law, according to Horton, it is not enough to reveal God’s moral expectations, as his definition on 109 would suggest. Rather, one must preach biblical morality in order to condemn. Otherwise, we proclaim, not law, but only “law-lite.”
This discussion recalls the controversy within Lutheranism as to whether the law should be preached to the regenerate.[16] Some Lutherans said that since the law always condemns, it should not be preached to believers, because believers are not under God’s condemnation. Others argued that believers do need the law to expose their residual unbelief and to turn them again to repent and believe on Christ. The second party prevailed. But still a third position prevailed in Reformed theology: that believers need to hear the law simply because they always need to know God’s will. Redeemed people will want to obey God out of gratitude (not works righteousness), and the law tells them how to do so. On this basis, we read the law, not to be condemned anew, but simply to serve the God who has removed from us all condemnation.
In this respect, Horton is more Lutheran than Reformed. He defines law as God’s moral requirements, a definition acceptable to all parties in this discussion. But for him the law must always bring condemnation, so that he doesn’t think one is really preaching the law unless he preaches it as condemnation.
This is to say, for Horton the law may be preached only in the context of justification, for justification is the removal of condemnation. As we saw earlier in this review, he cannot seem to reconcile himself to the fact that redemption involves sanctification as well as justification, our work as well as God’s, the subjective as well as the objective.
So when Osteen presents a message that almost entirely lacks a focus on justification, Horton replies with an emphasis entirely lacking in sanctification. But Scripture also speaks of sanctification, of the believer’s “working out” of salvation, his obedient walk with God. It gives us plenty of “instructions” about that, and as I indicated earlier it promises blessings (“success,” Josh. 1:8). It does indeed tell us how to be happy in this world.[17]
Now I think if we recognize that God’s law functions in sanctification as well as justification, we will see little need to insist on “separating” law and gospel as Horton insists. Horton demands that the two be sharply separated from one another: that there should be no law in the gospel and no gospel in the law. These are “two distinct worlds,” he says (137). For Horton, law is unmitigated bad news, with no good news mixed in (63, 91). This view is stressed in Lutheran theology[18] and has gained an increasing following in Reformed circles.
But as a matter of fact, that separation of law and gospel does not have biblical support. One should ask here, is there anything in Scripture that does not reveal God’s saving purposes? Jesus said that all of Scripture testified of him (Luke 24:25-27, John 5:39). And is there anything in the authoritative scriptures that does not impose a requirement upon us, at least the requirement to believe? But if the whole Bible can be considered law, and can also be considered gospel, how can law and gospel be separate?
Further, the gospel as proclaimed by Jesus and the apostles contains a command, the command to repent and believe (Mark 1:14-15, Acts 2:38-40). The law, on the other hand, is often based on divine deliverance, as in the case of the Decalogue (Ex. 20:2). The law itself is a gift of God’s grace, according to Ps. 119:29.The gospel is the proclamation of the coming kingdom (Isa. 52:7, Matt. 4:17, 23) in which God’s will shall be done on earth as in heaven (Matt. 6:10). It is the announcement that God’s law will prevail. So the law is good news, gospel. And the gospel is law.
To say that law and gospel come together in Scripture, however, is not to diminish the distinction between works and grace as means of salvation. Many have thought that they must separate law and gospel in order to separate works from grace. But the two issues are not parallel. Scripture plainly teaches, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.” (Eph 2:8-9) This passage speaks of the basis of salvation, not of two different verbal messages.
7. Redemption and Moralism
Now Horton sees a close relationship between the law/gospel distinction and the quest for relevance in the American church that we discussed earlier. He says,
When people ask for more practical preaching, for a more relevant message than Christ and him crucified, what they are falling back on is law rather than gospel. Another way of saying it is that we always prefer giving God a supporting role in our life movie—our own glory story—rather than being recast in his unfolding drama of redemption. How can God fix my marriage/ How can he make me a more effective leader? How can I overcome stress and manage my time and finances better? These are not bad questions. In fact, the Scriptures do bring sound wisdom to bear on these issues. But they are not the major questions, not even for lifelong Christians. (146)
I maintain my earlier defense of relevance: that God’s word is to be applied to all areas of life, and that preachers have a duty to help them do this. Horton says that all attempts to make the Gospel relevant are “law” rather than gospel.[19] Does this mean that even if a preacher tries to show that the gospel deals with a specific kind of sin—let’s say adultery—that his sermon is law rather than gospel? I find that unpersuasive. Further I maintain my earlier argument (section 1) that God actually wants to serve his people, so that he delights to fix our marriages, help us with finances, etc. He is a God who is big enough to be concerned with small things. To seek from him this kind of help is not to trivialize him or to diminish him or to make him subordinate to me.
In fact, Horton here (though rarely in this book) admits that these are good questions, and he admits that Scripture addresses them. Again, in his view, it is a matter of emphasis.
Nevertheless, he has a rather ugly word for people who preach sermons on such subjects. He calls them moralists. Moralists are people who “miss the point” and trivialize the Bible so that it becomes “life’s instructional manual” (142). The Bible is about Christ and him crucified, Horton says, and so therefore not about moral questions, at least by way of emphasis.
So it is wrong, Horton says, to present (emphasize?) characters in Bible stories as moral examples (148-52).
Instead of drawing a straight line of application from the narrative to us, which typically moralizes or allegorizes the story, we are taught by Jesus himself to understand these passages in the light of their place in the unfolding drama of redemption that leads to Christ. (151)
This is another of many false dichotomies in this book. Horton says that understanding passages in the light of Christ is incompatible with understanding them as providing moral examples. But Christ himself called on the Jews to rejoice in his day, as Abraham did (John 8:56). He commended David’s behavior in supplying food to his hungry men (Mark 2:25).
Imitation is a major means of sanctification in Scripture. We are to imitate God (Ex. 20:11, Lev. 11:44, Matt. 5:48, 1 Pet. 1:15-16) and Jesus (John 13:14-15, 34-35, Phil. 2:5-11, 1 Pet. 2:21, 1 John 3:16, 4:9-11). We are to imitate the apostles as they imitate Christ (1 Cor. 4:16, 11:1). The Israelites in the wilderness are negative examples in 1 Cor. 10:6 and Heb. 4:11, as are Sodom and Gomorrah in Jude 7. Timothy is to be an example to other believers (1 Tim. 4:12). Hebrews 11 presents many “heroes of faith” as examples for us. James refers to the prophets and Job as examples of suffering and patience (James 5:10-11) and to Elijah as a man of prayer (verses17-18).
So the qualifications of church officers in 1 Tim. 3:1-13 and Tit. 1:5-9 are primarily qualities of character, so that these officers can be examples to the flock (1 Pet. 5:3). When Horton confesses on 117, “…I am not an exemplary creature,” he perhaps unintentionally disqualifies himself for church office.
Horton is right to say that Bible characters foreshadow Christ in various ways. He is also right in saying that these characters, except Jesus, are sinners like us and justified only by the grace of Christ. So, of course, not everything they do should be imitated. And insofar as we should imitate them, we should imitate them as examples of living by faith. But, given these qualifications, we should be encouraging, not discouraging, preachers to point out parallels between the lives of these people and our lives today. Preaching this way does not deserve to be called moralism.
Nor certainly does the use of biblical examples deserve this condemnation from Horton:
Regardless of the official theology held on paper, moralistic preaching (the bane of conservatives and liberals alike) assumes that we are not really hopeless sinners who need to be rescues but decent folks who need good examples, exhortations, and instructions…
This insult is quite undeserved. Horton says that to use a biblical character as an example for Christians today is a denial of the gospel. (Or is he again criticizing an “emphasis?” Hard to say.) That is nonsense. And it shows again that Horton has no ear for the complexity of biblical salvation, for the distinction between justification and sanctification. Obviously we are not justified by following anyone’s example, only by trusting in Christ. But in the process of sanctification we often have need of examples and, for that matter, exhortations and instructions as well. Scripture itself provides these, and we ought to be thankful for them.
I think what has happened here is that Horton has locked on to a certain theory of preaching and has neglected to look at what the Bible actually says. And at this point the theory is so unscriptural that Horton’s condemnations reflect back on himself rather than hitting his targets.
I agree with Horton that preachers sometimes refer to Bible characters without an adequate appreciation of their place in the history of redemption. Certainly it would be wrong to preach on David and Goliath and conclude that all believers have the power to kill literal giants (cf. Horton, 148-49). But that is just to say that Scripture passages must be understood in the context of the whole Bible. It certainly does not forbid all use of Bible characters as examples.
Horton should have thought about this enough to understand that there is an opposite extreme. I once had occasion to sit for some months under the preaching of a couple of Horton’s students. Their sermons typically developed some too-clever way at making their text “point to Christ.” Beyond that, they offered no illustrations, no applications except a general “repent and believe.” I hope Horton doesn’t regard this kind of preaching as ideal. But had he merely recognized that there were two extremes he would not have used rhetoric that condemned only one, but would have tried to do some careful analysis to define a middle position.
8. Redemption and Other Things
Not only does Horton draw a dichotomy between redemption and morals, but also between redemption and a number of other subjects. He says,
The central message of Christianity is not a worldview, a way of life, or a program for personal and societal change; it is a gospel. (105)
Gospel, he says, is “an announcement of something that someone else has already achieved for us” (105). Now we have already seen that Scripture also includes imperatives under “gospel,” the command to repent and believe in Christ. Other questions also arise. Given all the books, chapters, and pages in Scripture, very few of them are devoted to “announcement of something that someone else has already achieved for us,” if only because that achievement was accomplished only at the end of Jesus’ earthly life. Before that, there were many other things (creation, redemptive history, Psalms, wisdom literature, prophecy), but no gospel in Horton’s sense, though certainly their fundamental purpose is to anticipate the gospel. Further, the books of the New Testament from Acts to Revelation are not mere announcements of Jesus’ work. As we have seen, they apply the work of Jesus to various aspects of human life.
I’m willing to say that the gospel, as Horton defines it,[20] is the most important content of Scripture, but it is by no means the only content of Scripture. For one thing, I’m disappointed that Horton disparages “worldview” as a content of Scripture. As a Professor of Apologetics, he of all people should understand that the Bible presents a worldview that is utterly unique among all the religions and philosophies of the world. No other system of thought recognizes that the world is created out of nothing by a supreme being who is both absolute and personal (tri-personal!) and who relates to his creatures as lord.[21] Most non-Christians have no idea that the Bible contains a distinctive metaphysics, epistemology, and ethics. And if the gospel (the gospel!) is to be presented to them clearly, they must understand that it presupposes a way of thinking about the world that is unique in the history of thought. In one sense, then, worldview is part of the gospel. In another sense, worldview is the gospel’s presupposition. But to speak, as Horton does, as if we must choose between the gospel and its worldview is to have a very abstract concept of gospel indeed.
And certainly, as I have shown, the gospel is also a program of personal and societal change. The gospel is not given simply to be understood, but to be obeyed (2 Thess. 1:8, 1 Pet. 4:17). A faith that does no good works is not true faith in the gospel (James 2:14-26). Many pages of the New Testament are given over to ethical teaching. And the gospel is not only a program for personal change, but societal as well. Scripture condemns over and over again the injustices of society: oppression of the poor, dishonoring of parents, murder, adultery, theft, corrupt courts that promote false witness.
This discussion is sometimes caught up in eschatological debate: is the Kingdom of God only future or is it in some sense present now? Sometimes it is waylaid by debates about the roles of church and state (as Horton’s exposition of the “two kingdoms” view on 206-217). But apart from these debates, isn’t it obvious that when people come to trust in Christ they seek to bring biblical standards to bear in their workplaces? Paul says, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.” (1 Cor. 10:31) Can we possibly exclude from “whatever” our work in politics, the arts, or finance? And can we possibly forbid the church to give us guidance in our attempts to improve society?
What does it mean to be engaged in politics to the glory of God? That is not always easy to define. I would agree with Horton that Christians often exaggerate their expertise on social issues; sometimes nonbelievers can do a better job of gathering the relevant facts. But if I am charged with the work of planning national health care, I certainly must ask how biblical principles apply to that. When a believer produces a sculpture, it may be difficult for him to see how his faith is relevant to each stroke of his tool; but he certainly doesn’t want critics referring to it as a symptom of modern nihilism.
Horton here again is arguing for an emphasis, certainly; I cannot believe he intends to absolutely prohibit the use of Scripture to guide us in “secular” activities. But as he presents his argument, he gives no encouragement at all to Christians who are seeking to apply their faith to the world in which they live. Over and over again, he presents this task negatively, as one that doesn’t deserve consideration, as opposed to his rather abstract conception of the gospel.
9. Giving and Receiving
Horton also criticizes the view and practice of worship in the American church. He begins by distinguishing “two scenarios:”
In the first, God gathers his people together in a covenantal event to judge and to justify, to kill and to make alive. The emphasis is on God’s work for us—the Father’s gracious plan, the Son’s giving life, death, and resurrection, and the Spirit’s work of bringing life to the valley of dry bones through the proclamation of Christ… In this preaching the people once again are simply receivers—recipients of grace…(189)
In the second scenario, the church is its own subculture, an alternative community not only for weekly dying and rising in Christ but for one’s entire circle of friends, electricians [JF:??], and neighbors. In this scenario, the people assume that they have come to church primarily to do something. The emphasis is on their work for God. The preaching concentrates on principles and steps to living a better life, with a constant stream of exhortations: Be more committed. Read your Bible more. Pray more. Witness more. Give more. Get involved in this cause or that movement to save the world. Their calling by God to secular vocations is made secondary to finding their ministry in the church. (190)
In the first scenario, God gives and man receives. In the second scenario it is the reverse.
I think it was Kierkegaard who somewhere said that we should not think of worship as a performance of clergy with the congregation as audience, but as a performance of the congregation with God as audience. I have repeated this point in the past, but it amounts to the “second scenario” that Horton condemns. I’m certainly willing to be corrected, and I think Horton has a point here. Certainly in worship God is at work: speaking to us in the word, nurturing us in the sacraments.
But surely that is not the whole story. The biblical words for worship, such as the Hebrew abodah and the Greek leitourgos are action verbs. They can be translated “work,” and they refer originally to the work of priests. But in the New Testament, in Christ, believers are priests (1 Pet. 2:5, 9, Rev. 1:6, 5:10, 20:6). Certainly, worshipers have responsibilities in worship, if only to sing God’s praises with their whole heart and to respond to the word appropriately.
And beyond this, the New Testament says that all believers have gifts of the Spirit that are to be used in the ministry of the church (Rom. 12:4-9, 1 Cor. 12:4-14:25). Consequently, the picture of worship Paul presents in 1 Cor. 14:26-33) is not a picture of a clergyman standing in front of everybody, forbidding them to speak unless spoken to. It is rather a picture of the whole congregation participating, offering suggestions, bringing “lessons.” Similarly, the writer to the Hebrews speaks of worship as a time when believers come together stir up and encourage one another (10:24-25; compare Col. 3:16). It is incomprehensible to me that Horton should discuss the participation of believers in the ministry of the church without discussing these passages, but so far as I can tell he does not.
My conclusion is that in worship, and indeed in the whole ministry of the church, there is both giving and receiving. Why, then, is Horton’s account so imbalanced on the side of God’s giving and our receiving? Part of it is his commendable passion to exalt God’s grace. But another part is what we discussed before, his erroneous view of the relation of divine sovereignty and human responsibility. Again, he seems to think that any significant role for human beings detracts from God’s sovereignty, his grace. We saw earlier that this is not the case.
Certainly there are special responsibilities in the church that fall on ordained leaders, elders and deacons. But this does not relieve other believers of the responsibility to edify one another (Col. 3:16, Eph. 4:25, 29) and to represent Christ when we go into the world. As I indicated earlier, we all have a mandate to apply the word of God to the situations of our families and workplaces.
Christ and Other Things
There is a tension in this book, perhaps even a contradiction, between two different messages. In the first, there is an antithesis between a focus on Christ and a focus on anything else, so that the latter necessarily compromises the former and puts us on the road to Christless Christianity. In the second, it is fine to focus occasionally on the other things, but not too often. The other things are good in their place, but they should not be overemphasized.
The first perspective leads to the alarming and (in my view) overheated rhetoric about Christlessness. The second leads Horton to backtrack on the rhetoric.
There is in fact a lot of backtracking in this book. I indicated at the beginning that Horton backtracks on his title: he doesn’t really mean that the American church is Christless, only that it is headed that way. After criticizing the church for its emphasis on human fulfillment and happiness, he backtracks as follows:
By the way, I don’t think this means that we simply write off the desire for fulfillment and happiness. The gospel neither meets our narcissistic goals nor denies the truth of which they are a perversion. (34)
He is rather vague, however, as to what the truth is of which our felt needs are a perversion. Nor does he explain why he thinks that the whole American church, when it promotes human happiness, is not presenting true redemptive happiness.
As I mentioned earlier, Horton tends to avoid discussions of sanctification in favor of references to justification. And when authors discuss human responsibility in sanctification, he interprets them as bringing in works righteousness. Yet he backtracks,
Start with Christ (that is, the gospel) and you get sanctification in the bargain; begin with Christ and move on to something else, and you lose both. (62)
This is very vague. What is the difference between these two options? Is it that in the first the person embraces Christ and immediately receives sanctification with no process, no spiritual battle? As I indicated earlier, I believe that is unbiblical. And what does it mean to “begin with Christ and move on to something else?” Does that mean moving from Christ to some other savior and lord? If so, I would agree with Horton. In that case, you not only lose sanctification; you lose everything. But if it means “begin with Christ and move on to his influence in all the areas of life,” I can’t concur with his judgment. And I think that many of the people Horton condemns actually fall under this category.
More backtracking: We have seen that Horton is very critical of any talk of a personal, inner relationship with Christ. But then he says,
It is the Spirit who convicts us inwardly of our sin and drives us outside of ourselves to Christ, not only in the message of the gospel to which he testifies, but in the creaturely, public, and external means that he employs to do so. In this way, Christ and his saving work not only remain outside of us but penetrate our hearts so deeply that we are truly transformed and continually transformed by his grace. Therefore, intimacy and personal fellowship with Christ by his Spirit through the means of grace are not eliminated but secured—but without simply collapsing Jesus into our inner experience. (184)
This is a fine statement, but surprising. Horton evidently has not reflected how this concession affects his critiques of supposed Gnostics elsewhere in the book. Certainly Horton has not taken pains to show that the people he criticizes would disagree with it, or that their practice disagrees with it. Perhaps his point is that they don’t stress sufficiently the external character of the gospel and the means of grace. But it does not seem to me that the American church is oblivious to the means of grace. Nor do I think it biblical to think that the gospel can come only through public proclamation and not also through personal Bible reading and prayer.
After criticizing evangelical worship for emphasizing commands rather than grace, he qualifies his point,
Of course we do receive exhortations in Scripture, and therefore this must be a part of public worship. Law without gospel, however, is death (2 Cor. 3:5-18). (191)
But his argument in context is simply based on the presence of law in this worship, not the absence of gospel (a negative that would be very hard to prove).
The pattern in the above backpedaling passages is that Horton moves from a mood of absolute condemnation to a mood of granting some truth in the other position. The other position would be fine, he seems to think, if it is properly related to Christ. He is making now a subtle point. But he has not given enough thought either to the issue or to the people he criticizes to show that they have not actually missed his subtle point, that they have somehow not properly related law to gospel.
So Horton leaves us uncertain as to whether the practices he condemns in the American church contradict the gospel, or whether they are good practices that could be improved with some greater degree of gospel emphasis.
In my view, the key to this is to think, not in terms of “Christ and other things,” as Horton does, but of “Christ and the applications of his work.” The relationships between Christ and other things vary considerably, and are very complex. Horton does not succeed in giving us anything near an adequate presentation of this complexity. But in regard to “Christ and the applications of his work,” the matter is clear. This formula unambiguously sets forth the content of Scripture and the entire work of the church. Anything the church does that fails to serve and promote Christ and the applications of his work is indeed Christless, and a church that fails to promote Christ and the applications of his work is truly apostate. Any church that refuses to implement an application of Christ’s work compromises the truth of Scripture.
Yet the phrase “Christ and the applications of his work” also implies a hierarchy of focus or emphasis. Some applications are more central than others, and they ought to receive more attention in the church. Justification by grace through faith alone is a central application; the mode of baptism is less central, though advocates of one particular mode will see it as an application of Christ’s work.
To speak of “Christ and the applications of his work” is not to speak of two different things. For there is no Christ without these applications. To believe in Christ is to believe in the Christ of Scripture, the Christ who became incarnate, taught, worked miracles, died as our sacrifice, was raised to glory, and will come again to judge the living and the dead. It is also to believe that his atonement secures our effectual calling, regeneration, conversion, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance, and glorification. So it secures the Spirit’s presence so that we may serve Christ and receive his guidance in all areas of life. To believe in Christ is to believe in all of this, and also to believe in the law of love, his new commandment to his disciples (John 13:34-35). To believe in Christ is to seek his glory in all areas of life (1 Cor. 10:31-11:1).
Conclusion
I usually don’t review books at this length. But I have noticed that the theology of this book is becoming more influential in evangelical and Reformed circles, and I believe there is danger in that. I say that despite the fact that I agree with the book about many things. Most relevantly, I agree with Horton that the evangelical church needs to put more emphasis on man’s sin and the saving grace of Christ, less emphasis on what Horton regards as other things and what I regard as the lower-priority applications of Christ’s work. But he thinks this wrong emphasis is so bad as to put the church in immediate danger of Christless apostasy. I do not.
Horton’s alarmism is persuasive to many people, and I have been moved to try to show them their persuasion is premature. The problem is that the yardstick Horton uses to measure the American church’s allegiance to Christ is not an accurate yardstick. Or, to drop the metaphor, Horton measures the American church with a defective theology.
He comes on to the reader as a generic Protestant Christian with a passion for the historic doctrines of the atonement and of justification by faith alone. He writes engagingly. Naturally, then, other Protestants tend to resonate to his arguments. But Horton is not just a generic Protestant or even a generic Reformed theologian. He holds certain positions that are not warranted by the Reformed Confessions and which in my mind are not even Scriptural. To review, he advocates the following:
1. Attention to ourselves necessarily detracts from attention to Christ.
2. We should not give attention to the way we communicate the gospel, or to making it relevant to its hearers.
3. God’s sovereignty and human responsibility are a zero-sum game. The idea that man must do something compromises the absolute sovereignty of God.
4. God’s work of salvation is completely objective, external to us, and not at all subjective, internal to us. (Here he backtracks some.)
5. God promises us no earthly blessings, only heavenly ones, and to desire earthly blessings is a “theology of glory,” deserving condemnation.
6. Law and gospel should be utterly separate. There should be no good news in the bad news and no bad news in the good news.
7. Preaching of the gospel must never use biblical characters as moral or spiritual examples. Nor must it address practical ethical issues in the Christian life.
8. A focus on redemption excludes a focus on anything else.
9. In worship and in the general ministry of the church, God gives and does not receive; the congregation receives and does not give.
10. Analysts of the church must compare the Church’s focus on Christ with its focus on other things, rather than considering that many of these other things are in fact applications of Christ’s own person and work.
Horton considers adherence to these principles essential, so that departing from them constitutes Christlessness, and failure to emphasize them sufficiently leads to a false gospel. But not one of these principles is found in any Reformed confession. (#6 is found in the Lutheran confessions, but it is controversial among other Protestants.) And in my view, none of them are Scriptural.
So Christless Christianity is essentially an evaluation of the American church, not from the standpoint of a generic Protestant theology, but from what I must regard as a narrow, factional, even sectarian perspective. Readers need to understand this. If we remove #1-10 as measuring sticks for the American church, the church does not look nearly as bad as Horton presents it.
There is great danger here of further division within the body of Christ, as if there were not already enough. Arguments over redemptive-historical preaching (#7) have already split congregations apart. When one group presents these principles as the only orthodox position, but others (understandably) are not convinced, and the principles themselves are often unclear, we have a recipe for disaster.
And the church would do well, in my judgment, not to add principles 1-10 to its creed. The results could include intentional irrelevance (1-2), especially on social matters (5, 7, 8), Christian passivity (3, 9), intellectualism and impersonalism in our relation to God (4, 9), artificiality in preaching, not drawing on the richness of Scripture (2, 6-8), elimination of lay ministry (9), and poor theological analyses and evaluations of the church (10).
So I must render a negative verdict on this book, though commending the author’s passion for the purity of the church and for the gospel. In doing this, I must disagree with many friends and respected colleagues, who have commended this volume lavishly. They should have known better.
[1] Grand Rapids: BakerBooks, 2008.
[2] Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1923. Horton mentions Machen’s work on 176-77 of the volume under review.
[3] We shall see that he elsewhere complains about the bad news of God’s law being lightened by being mixed with good news. But here he is saying that there are good things mixed in with the terrible bad news that the church is headed for Hell.
[4] I have developed this concept of lordship in the books of my Theology of Lordship series, particularly The Doctrine of God (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2002), Chapters 1-7.
[5] Remarkably, one of his recurring arguments is that the “American church” has given improper weight to secular psychology. If this is true, should we not regard Horton’s argument as a symptom of this very error?
[6] This may be unfair, but I sometimes get the impression, here and in Horton’s other books, that many of his judgments of evangelicalism are based on aesthetic criteria of a rather elitist kind. He has a certain idea of what is “profound,” the opposite of vacuous, and he wants a religion that keeps God out of the areas of life he considers trivial. But in the Bible God delights in relating to the trivial. He cares about the falling sparrows, numbers the hairs of our heads, melts the snow in the spring, feeds all the animals in the world. And he cares about the griefs and joys of his people.
[7] Compare my longer discussion of the relation between interpretation and application in Doctrine of the Knowledge of God (Phillipsburg: P&R, 1987), 81-85.
[8] All translation is application. If we are forbidden to make the text relevant or apply the text, then we are shut up to reading Scripture to our congregations in the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek.
[9] Consider the sentence, “efforts to translate the gospel into contemporary language actually aim at making the gospel not only more understandable but more believable.” Response: (1) I don’t know if this comment is true, as a description of the usual motives of Bible translators or teachers. (2) Certainly there is a sense in which a truth is more believable when it is better understood. (3) More understandable/believable than what? It would be wrong to try to make the gospel more understandable OR believable than it is in the Bible itself. But it is certainly not wrong to make it more understandable or believable than it is in previous translations. This kind of unclarity abounds in Horton’s book.
[10] As I read through this discussion, however, I often found myself saying, “Mike, pick on somebody your own size.” Osteen has no theological training and should not be asked to compete with a Ph. D. in a theological arena. A gentle critique of his main emphasis might be more appropriate.
[11] I fully acknowledge the deficiencies of “prosperity theology.” But those deficiencies should not force us to the opposite extreme of denying that obeying God brings blessings in our earthly life.
[12] He quotes Graeme Goldsworthy, The Goldsworthy Trilogy (Carlisle, UK: Paternoster Press, 2000), 137.
[13] Philip Lee, Against the Protestant Gnostics (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987), 144.
[14] Ibid., 255.
[15] A few words on the general relationship between objective and subjective reality. These are distinct concepts, but they are not separable, as if we could have one without the other. “Objective” usually refers to the way things really are, apart from how we would like them to be. “Subjective” refers to our own perception of the objective. These are opposites in a way: it is important that our understanding of God’s world be objective, rather than merely a reflection of our inner imaginations. If our thinking is merely subjective, and not objective, then it does not conform to truth, and it cannot be trusted. But we cannot have one without the other. The only way we can perceive or understand objective reality is by means of our subjective faculties (senses, reason, intuition, etc). And our subjective faculties are themselves objective realities, aspects of our nature that must be taken account of. The notion that we can have “objective” knowledge, assurance, etc. without any subjective involvement is nonsense. Similarly there is no objective salvation from sin unless our inner life, too, is saved and transformed. Salvation in Scripture re-creates the whole person (2 Cor. 5:17, 1 Thess. 5:23).
[16] Sometimes this controversy has been described as a controversy over the “third use of the law.” The first use is to restrain sin in society. The second use is to condemn us so that we will flee to Christ. (In the literature, the first and second use are sometimes interchanged.) The third use is as a guide to the believer’s life. Among the Lutherans, some rejected the third use, because for them the law always brings condemnation. Those who favored the third use thought that believers need continuing condemnation so that we will continually flee to Christ. Calvinists favored the third use simply because it declares how redeemed people should behave.
[17] Horton quotes Osteen as saying that we receive God’s blessing and favor in return for our efforts and equates this with works righteousness (87-88). Here Horton misses the fact that God’s blessings come in at two points in our salvation: (1) the ultimate initiation of salvation, and (2) the blessings he gives us for our obedience. Clearly Osteen in the quoted context is talking about (2), but Horton reads him as talking about (1) and therefore preaching works righteousness, that is that our works are what move God to initiate salvation.
[18] I have criticized the position of the Lutheran Formula of Concord at some length in my article “Law and Gospel,” http://www.frame-poythress.org/frame_articles/2002Law.htm, cf. my The Doctrine of the Christian Life (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2008), 182-192.
[19] I would have expected him to say that such attempts are “law-lite” (69) rather than real law, because they don’t present God’s condemnation.
[20] If we give “gospel” a broader definition, as I did earlier in this review, it is possible to say that all Scripture is gospel. But it is similarly possible to say that all Scripture is law, worldview, ethical guidance, etc.
[21] I have expounded this worldview in many places, such as the first seven chapters of my Doctrine of God (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2002).
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