First off, I am not at all unbiased in the infamous Calvinism/Arminianism debates. In fact, I've been more than a little complicit in making them contentious at times. In the past, I have spent many a night, up late, "debating" with both Calvinists and Arminians about the particulars of divine providence, human responsibility, divine foreknowledge, and the ontological status of the future—both in person and online. Therefore, I won't pretend that I come to Olson's book as a neutral third-party. However, the reality is, none of us do! We all come to Olson's book, all books, perhaps especially the Scriptures, with our preconceived notions firmly in hand, as much as we'd like to deny it.
Secondly, I am neither a Classical Arminian nor a Calvinist—nor any sort of "moderate" or "nuanced" Calvinist (whether such a thing actually exists is debatable). I'm more than happy to locate myself within the broad and historic Free Will tradition of Jesus Christ's Church that includes Christians from nearly every stripe (many Roman Catholics, many Greek Orthodox, Wesleyans, Methodists, Pentecostals, Anabaptists, many Baptists, and all who call themselves "Arminians"). And, by the way, this tradition predates both Calvin and Arminius. But, specifically, I will even further identify myself with the label "Open theist." Some will not gladly accept such a label, and as a result, I know many who I'd call "closet Open theists." As Olson himself has argued, a particularly militant and vocal coalition [wink] of Calvinists have succeeded in convincing a dishearteningly large group of gullible evangelicals in the US that Open theism is "controversial." They haven't proven that Open theism is heretical—far from it! Instead, their arguments have been blatant caricatures. They haven't been required to show Open theism's actual error. They have only needed to claim the view contains error loud enough to convince enough people not to investigating the view for themselves.
[Sidenote: In a course I took this semester on conflict in Christian organizations, one of the authors we read had a term for leaders who lead by creating a false enemy and producing group cohesiveness through vilifying the Other. He called them Demagogues. …So…there's that.]
Third, what drew me to Olson's book most wasn't his deliberate attempt to refute Calvinism. I've read lots of books and articles that refute Calvinism. Heck, I've written some! No, what drew me to Olson's book was his deliberate attempt to finally lay to rest a retort I hear constantly from Calvinists. I call it the "You-Just-Don't-Understand-Calvinism" retort. Calvinists are notorious for claiming to be victims of caricature. Even while they are also notorious for caricaturing other views. I can't tell you how many times, after backing a Calvinist into a philosophical corner, their response is: "You just don't understand Calvinism." Apparently, Calvinists are convinced their views are incredibly complex and esoteric. In case you were wondering—they aren't. But Olson leaves no room for this defense. He demonstrates on nearly every page that he has gone directly to the sources, read them, studied them, understood their arguments (often better than most Calvinists do), and nevertheless comes to many of the same conclusions we Free Will theists have held for centuries:
1) Calvinism is theological determinism
2) Calvinism relies solely upon carefully-crafted proof-texting
3) Calvinism renders God morally ambiguous
4) Calvinism does not reflect the character of Christ
Special thanks to Tom Oord for providing a review copy of this title.
General:
The God Biographers is a fascinating book about the way God's story has been told in doctrines down through the centuries of religion and philosophy. Perhaps the grand irony is that the book itself becomes a biography of God as it attempts to tell this epic story. Larry Witham, the book's author, described as a veteran journalist on the book's jacket, sets out to, "[look] closely at the cultural and scientific context of each age and how these shaped the images of God." He argues that, "Each biographer labors under the influence of a particular cultural milieu." Therefore, the book becomes primarily a journey through historical theology dating from the Classical period in Greek thought to present day Open and Relational theisms. However, Witham's survey is not merely a general overview. The author specifically details the views of God's biographers as they relate to one of the single greatest tensions in theism: the relationship between divine providence and human volition. In the service of this very specific focus, the author employs the book, and figure, of Job as an overarching theme in which to ground the discussion. This odd yet often-cited ancient Hebrew text stands apart as one the clearest examples of this essential antinomy. Yet, for as many biographers as have attempted to tell God's story, at least as many interpretations of this book have accompanied them.
The God Biographers is also a book about two competing biographies of God that have remained enmeshed in a struggle for the hearts and minds of theists since the very beginnings of philosophical and religious thought. The first biography is that of an aloof and "unchangeable monarch," while the second tells of a God who participates in a “dynamic relationship [with] the universe." (p. 2) Astute readers will recognize these two biographies as classic summaries of the competing visions of God developed by the Greeks and the Hebrews. Early Greek philosophers warred against the oppressive myths of capricious gods, who meddled in the affairs of humanity, often for sport, and inflicted meaningless suffering upon helpless victims for their own amusement. In their place, Plato, Aristotle and the like exalted a view of the Supreme Being as an impersonal, static reality that neither felt "passions" nor "changed" in any way. By contrast, the Hebrews exalted a view of God as utterly personal: a living, dynamic presence who revealed himself to their people through the law and prophets, led them out of slavery in Egypt, and responded to their prayers. Over the millennia since humanity began to think and write about the divine, Greek, Jewish, Islamic, and Christian scholars have all had to grapple with these diametrically opposed biographies and account for the realities of daily life, advances in human understand of the world, and the sacred texts of the Bible (and Job in particular).
Job is a fitting theme since his story is one of a righteous man who is suddenly stripped of everything. He is depicted as an innocent victim of tragedy at the hands of an enemy: the satan. God's relationship to this calamity has always presented God's biographers with a primal trilemma often called the "problem of evil." And its exploration in relationship to God is called "theodicy." Attributed to the Greek philosopher Epicurus, the problem can be summarized thusly:
Is God:
"willing but unable to take away evil (impotent)"
"able but unwilling (malevolent)"
or
"both willing and able—so why is there evil at all?" (p. 27)
Theists since Lactantius have felt compelled to address this “problem,” but perhaps no century has been more filled with reminders than the twentieth. Two World Wars and the explosive advancement of science brought theism and evil into sharp contrast. Appropriately, then, Witham spends a good portion of the book in this period.
Writing this review during Advent heightens my awareness of the critical role context plays when we approach the topic of Jesus. It is precisely the context of the birth narratives we read this time of year that make significant the many prophecies we see fulfilled in Jesus. The story just wouldn't make sense if the evangelists didn't set the stage with the words from the Hebrew prophets. Jesus isn't simply born "long ago" or "far, far way." Jesus is born at a very specific time in history, in a very specific place in the world. This matters tremendously for the story's impact. Were Jesus to have been born at any other time in history, in any other place, he could not have been Israel's Messiah and therefore he could not be the Jesus Christians worship; he would be neither "Jesus of Nazareth" nor "Jesus Christ."
N. T. Wright further sets the stage of Jesus' story by letting readers into many of the assumptions citizens of first-century Palestine (whether they be Jew or Gentile) would have made about Israel's Messiah due to the development of Judaism up to that point. This insight is critical for understanding Jesus because this is the understanding of the Gospel authors who wrote about Jesus—and the Gospels are our primary source of historical information about Jesus.
[Sidenote: Some observant readers will note my use of the qualifier "historical" in the previous sentence and might begin to question Wright's approach to the study of Jesus. This is to be expected. In recent US evangelicalism, many pages of ink, many pixels, and many mp3s have been used to campaign against any quest for the "historical Jesus". Wright is aware of the misgivings among US evangelicals toward such pursuits, and he is prepared to defend his methodology. For more on this, I'd recommend readers to his essay entitled, "A Grateful Dialogue: A Response" in Jesus & the Restoration of Israel edited by Carey C. Newman. Yet Wright even takes a moment in this book's preface to briefly comment on why we need both theological and historical study of Jesus. He writes,
"…writing about Jesus has never been, for me, a matter simply of 'neutral' historical study (actually, there is no such thing, whatever the topic, but we'll leave that aside for the moment); the Jesus whom I study historically is the Jesus I worship as part of the threefold unity of the one God. But, likewise, writing about Jesus has never been a matter simply of pastoral and homiletic intent; the Jesus whom I preach is the Jesus who lived and died as a real human being in first-century Palestine. Modern western culture, especially in America, has done its best to keep these two figures, the Jesus of history and the Jesus of faith, from ever meeting. I have done my best to resist this trend, despite the howls of protest from both sides."]
This context which Wright provides is the socio-political-religious atmosphere of Jesus' day. What type of world does Jesus arrive in? Who did Jews expect him to be? Who did Romans fear he would be? These are important questions, without which we can scarcely piece together the story of Jesus, and therefore we cannot know if we are following him correctly.
Imagine I tell you to vote for Barack Obama in the 2012 election, but you've never heard of him or know anything about US presidential politics. You ask me to tell you his story. Now imagine trying to tell the story of Barack Obama's campaign for president in 2008 without mentioning George W. Bush, September 11th, or the war in Iraq. Imagine if you couldn't mention Islamic fundamentalism, conservative evangelicalism, socialism, or liberalism. Would his story make sense? Who would you think Barack Obama was? What about all the many references he makes to the previous administration, to presidents with whom he shares ideals, or to the US Constitution? If you had no clue what he was referring to when he mentioned these people, events, and so on, would you be able to determine what his campaign was all about? Would you be able to say definitively on what platform he ran?
So it is with Jesus. The context into which Jesus of Nazareth enters is a swirling, dangerous ball of energy. Therefore, Wright appropriately and brilliantly utilizes the analogy of "the perfect storm" throughout the book to describe the various pressures that surrounded Jesus. He also uses the analogy to describe the pressures we encounter approaching Jesus today. In both cases, I found this use of the analogy both helpful and memorable.
Last night I watched, via livestreaming video over the web, a debate hosted by the Carl F. H. Henry Center for Theological Understanding at Trinity International University between Jim Wallis and Al Mohler on the topic of whether "social justice" is "integral" to the "mission of the church." If you are at all familiar with these two personas, you will immediately recognized which one represented the affirmative and which one advocated the negative. Jim Wallis is the best-selling author of God's Politics and President/CEO of Sojourners, which this year celebrates 40 years of "articulat[ing] the biblical call to social justice, inspiring hope and building a movement to transform individuals, communities, the church, and the world." Al Mohler is the president of Southern Baptist Theological Seminary—the "flagship school of the Southern Baptist Convention"—and one of the largest seminaries in the world. Mohler is also an author of several books.
James Cone is a prophetic voice to US American Christians, and particularly to black and white church communities. Cone understands his social location as both a constraint on his viewpoint, and as an invaluable opportunity for unique insight. His insight draws upon his identity as both a Christian theologian and a black US American man.
In his lecture: "Strange Fruit: The Cross and the Lynching Tree", Cone utilizes the terrifying and soul-scaring reality of lynching in the US as a powerful symbol of the extreme, unjust victimization that characterized the cross—as well as a powerful symbol of the limitless hope and liberation that the cross provides for those who see God's suffering solidarity with humanity in it. Cone reminds us that we cannot ignore the reality of lynching and yet glamorize the cross; they are both symbols of gruesome violence wrought at the hands of evil empires. He also reminds us through both these symbols, millions of people around the globe have glimpsed the eschatological hope that characterizes the Christian faith, and have been compelled to seek justice in this world for the marginalized, the oppressed, and the stigmatized.
Have I mentioned lately that I love Efrem Smith, his thoughts on Calvinism's relationship to Christian Hip Hop, and his prescription of "Reconciliation Theology"? Well, I do. In his most recent blog post, Smith further fills in his criticism of Calvinism's dominance in Christian Hip Hop with some very specific points. This is so rare yet so needed. Because for many American evangelicals, the recent surge of Neo-Calvinism is viewed as a generally positive if not wildly encouraging occurrence. But when in all of history has the adoption of a theology that posits special election and calling by a powerful and privileged class of people in a society produced anything but oppression, war, and general injustice? Have we so easily forgotten what kind theology undergirded Nazi Fascism or Manifest Destiny? It appears some certainly have. But not Efrem Smith. And it feels good to no longer be alone in the public recognition of Calvinism's dominance in American evangelicalism as a potentially destructive force.
There's been a lot of talk recently about what the Gospel is in its essence. Some partisan Christian groups with a particular theological viewpoint want to define The Gospel as their specific theological perspective—effectively rendering all other expressions of the Gospel error.
So what is the essential Gospel? Well, if we say it is the message delivered unto the early church by Jesus, how would one discover the content of that message?
I propose that one method would be to survey the content of the preaching and descriptions of the preaching of the apostles in the book of Acts.
I received a copy of The Lost World of Genesis One as an early Father's Day present. It's been on my reading list since it was published. And I'd been anticipating its publication since I watched a video lecture of professor John Walton explaining his view from a Wheaton classroom years before. So in short, I was very excited to read this book. And it didn't disappoint.
In her introduction, she gave a brief overview of Christology to set the stage for the discussion of the Potter books. In it she surveyed the early Christian church's struggle to agree upon Christ's nature and work. She also gave an overview of the life of Christ throughout the Gospel accounts, noting both their similarities and differences. A central commonality she emphasized was Jesus' "radical hospitality." By this she is referring to Jesus' deliberate status-quo-challenging embrace of outsiders—women, Gentiles, the stigmatized, and the poor—for which he is scandalized and eventually executed.
Like yours, my life is multi-faceted. This blog is an attempt to chronicle my de-compartmentalized life and thoughts as a Jesus-follower, husband, father, urbanite, minister, theologian, tech geek, hip hop head, and designer. Discussion is welcome, so long as it is conducted in a spirit of charity. First and foremost, this blog is for self-expression—then community.
Since this blog chronicles my de-compartmentalized life and thoughts, there are a diverse range of subjects. To the left you can find the eight largest categories of subjects for more convenient searching.
Title: Against Calvinism
Author: Larry Witham
Title: Simply Jesus: Who He Was, What He Did, Why It Matters
Introduction:
James Cone
Have I mentioned lately that I love Efrem Smith, 
Author: John Walton
At 
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