A Difference That Makes a Difference Part II

From a seminar at Bethel Seminary on Uses of the OT in the N

In Revelation, John reiterates many of the promises that God gives in the Old Testament. For example, just as God promises to “create a new heaven and a new earth” in Isaiah, John sees the “new Jerusalem” coming down from heaven and hears Jesus proclaim, “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev 21:5). Yet, as with the OT prophecies, Revelation describes something that is yet to come—something that will occur in the future. So, if we already have the yet-future promises given to us in the Old Testament, why do we need the promises in Revelation? Is Revelation telling us something that the Old Testament isn’t already telling us?  

Yes, indeed, the appointment of God’s son as “the heir of all things,” who is the very “radiance of” his glory “and the exact imprint of his nature” (Heb 1:2-3). Notwithstanding the promise of a New Heaven and New Earth” in both Is 65:17-25 and Rev 21, Graeme Goldsworthy is on to something in his observation that in light of “the two-stage exile to Assyria and Babylon,” the promises of God issued in Isaiah did not come to fruition in Jewish history (outside of Jesus, that is) but only remain future oriented.  Goldsworthy, noting that “while Israel clung to the promises that God’s glory would again return,” ‘nowhere in second temple literature [except, of course, for the New Testament] is it asserted that this has happened [the return to God’s glory to Israel, as depicted in Isaiah 65]; therefore, it still remains in the future. The exile is not really over” (Goldsworthy, Christ-Centered Biblical Theology, 130.  The embedded Wright citation is from The New Testament and the People of God, 269).

As noted in the question, the promises of New Heaven and New Earth in both Isaiah and Revelation are yet to be realized, so is there a difference in the promises of Isaiah and Revelation that makes a difference? While the answer may be obvious based on the citation from Hebrews, which could be gleaned as well from the prologue to John’s gospel, can we say something more precise about any difference that actually makes a difference?

Let’s address the seriousness of the question—the futurity of God’s kingdom as eschatological promise—as Eden restored and transformed.  Interpreting Revelation from the perspective of Boyarin, it’s plausible to see the last book of the NT as an early Christian midrash writ large on Isaiah’s most far reaching proclamations, in which God’s servant will “be a light for the nations that my salvation may reach to the ends of the world” (Is 49:6).  While there are technical and highly precise definitions of what qualifies as a legitimate midrash, Boyrain’s more general (and generous) interpretation, cited below, allows it to be instructive here.

“Although a whole library could (and has been) written on midrash, for the present purposes, it will be sufficient to define it as a mode of biblical reading that brings disparate passages and verses together in the elaboration of new narratives.”

Further:

“The rabbis who produced the midrashic way of reading considered the Bible one enormous signifying system, any part of which could be taken as commenting on or supplementing any other part” (The Jewish Gospels, 76).

Thus, a Jewish scholar might say something along the following: The second temple followers of The Way created a messianic figure through a two-step already/not yet eschatological promise through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, who, in his earthly ministry was at most an ambiguous figure who some viewed as a prophet, some as a messiah and others as a charlatan. While there is much in the life and the heroic death of Jesus of Nazareth to admire—and yes, even to emulate—nonetheless, since there are so many of the prophetic promises that he did not fulfill—we can only wait for the true messiah.  In creating a two-stage fulfillment promise, followers of The Way created a safety hedge in which the full reality of their messiah would only be fulfilled when the new heavens and new earth finally descends.  We have a different understanding of the role of the messiah.

 An in-depth response is beyond the bounds of what can be addressed in this format, yet a few things can be said.  While Boyaron makes an excellent case in illustrating how some of the most cherished Christian beliefs, even the Incarnation, have their roots in the broader second temple literature, history, and theological traditions, it is in the composite depiction of Jesus the Christ throughout the NT that speaks of his authenticity at least for the millions that have been so persuaded over the centuries.   Boyrain brings much astute scholarship in making the case that, in one sense, there was nothing new in such second temple notions of the merger of messianic conquering Davidic king (son of God) and Isaianic Suffering Servant, as well as an incarnated son of man, as depicted in Daniel.  N. T. Wright has argued similarly. The novum of tremendous proportions, however, is their merging in the singular figure of Jesus Christ, when combined with the life, teaching, healing, and miracles of Jesus as depicted in the gospels and the entirety of the insights on the relationship between the Risen One and the life of his disciples in the various church communities as highlighted in the letters. 

What stands out for me is the authenticity of the depicted character, as summarized in the early NT liturgy (Phil 2:5-11).  If in this character, the exact imprint of God’s nature is enfleshed, we do have a high priest who embraces us more intimately than we or our closest companions could possibly do.  More could be said.  In the final analysis, it is a matter of faith and calling.  

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit he cannot enter the kingdom of God…. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.  The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” Viewed (John 3:5, 7-8 .  

Stated otherwise, the authenticity of the already resonates with the profound depths in what is anticipated in the not yet.  For "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Heb 11:1). 

Viewed in a more contemporary voice, 

“There is no continuous movement from an objective inquiry into the life of Jesus to a knowledge of him as the Christ who is our Lord.  Only a decision of the self, a leap of faith, a metanoia or revolution of the mind [and, of course, a calling, itself, from the Spirit] can lead from observation to participation and from observed to lived history.   And this is true of all other events in sacred history (H. R. Niebuhr, 1941, The Meaning of Revelation, 83).  

A Difference that Makes a Difference Between the Role of the Holy Spirit in the OT & NT

  From a seminar at Bethel Seminary titled, Use of the OT in the NT Part I

Lecture Five, various assigned and unassigned biblical passages, and certain sections in this week’s secondary reading highlight the centrality of the Spirit of God as an underlying source of communication to God’s people in both testaments.  In short, the Holy Spirit, like the New Covenant was not a New Testament innovation—nor is a great deal else according to the various authors we are encountering in this course.  The breaking in of the Spirit of God as a  foundational event in both testaments testifies to its centrality, namely, the descent of the Holy Spiirt in Acts 2:2-3 at Pentecost as the disciples awaited their marching orders from the risen Christ, and at the instruction of the great Lawgiver after issuing the Ten Commandments from Mount Sinai, where “the Lord spoke…out of the midst of the fire [where] you heard the sound of the words, but saw no form, you only heard a voice” (Deut 12:11-12).  Through resonating language and imagery, both events heralded a theophany of God of major proportions, in which God emphatically spoke to God’s people (https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/the-ultimate-theophany/).

 The articulation of the breaking in of the Holy Spirit at the inauguration of the early church is depicted in Peter’s first sermon as the fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy that God will pour down his Spirit on his people—a vision in both texts is characterized by dreams, prophecy, and visions.  The common key event is the “pouring down of God’s Spirit on all flesh” with wonders in the heavens above and signs in the earth beneath” (NKJV).  Whatever minor variations, Peter (Luke) made in appropriating Joel’s last days prophecy may be significant for certain exegetical purposes, the main point here is the pouring down of God’s Spirit as reflected in Acts 2: 17-21 and Joel 2:28-32.  While there may be no qualitative difference in the theophonous power of the most holy God that inhabited both Joel and Luke (Peter), a significant difference resides in the focal point of each text; namely, in Acts, “the miracles, wonders, and signs… God did through him (added emphasis) whom God raised up, having loosened the pains of death, because it was not possible that he should be held by it” Acts 2:22-24).

 As noted in the Lecture and elsewhere, the emphasis on the Spirit of God was more than a passing phenomenon in the OT, rooted in Israel’s deepest discourse, particularly passages in Deuteronomy, Isaiah, and Psalm 119, to say nothing of the profound pathos of Hosea 11.  The emphasis on the holiness of God is a central OT theme—one that underlies and presupposes the power of the Spirit of God.  One approach to this question is to explore the deepest themes of each testament in which God spoke to his people. This emphasis reinforces the argument of Boyarin that Christianity, however unique on its own terms, is one important variant within the religious culture of Second Temple Judaism, in which, if we are able to move back a bit from the pervasive Judaism/Christianity polarity, we would grasp profound commonalities that have the capacity to enrich both faith traditions.  The Spirit of the Lord speaking to God’s people is one such commonality.

In accepting all of this, I still want to speak of a distinction of no minor consequence, as highlighted in the Acts 2:22-24 citation, namely, the linkage of the Holy Spirit to Jesus Christ, the Son of Man, the Son of God, the Lord of human history.  On this, Romans 8:9-11 is a favorite passage of mine, in which the Spirit of God and Spirit of Christ are mutually highlighted. Verse 11 merits particular mention: “But if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you.”  Clearly, it is God, the father, who does the raising, but is it Christ, the Son who dwells with us and gives life to our mortal bodies. 

 In his discussion of Daniel 7, Enoch, and Fourth Ezra, Boyarin did a nice job in demonstrating various late second temple manifestations of an incarnational understanding of God in two persons, in which the vision of Jesus in Acts and throughout the NT is one such manifestation. Fair enough as far as it goes, in which one could evaluate this common second temple discourse from a purely historical, third person perspective, but what, in itself, would that have to do with any first-person significance, with which one needs to come to grips for any personal encounter with the still living Christ. 

 While other texts could be drawn, consider the stunning passages in John 14-17 and the interlacing of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit, in which “the helper” mediates God’s presence to believers through his Son. Key verses include 14:6, 9-11, 15:1-10, 26, 16: 23-24 and the entirety of Ch 17, in which the faithful are intimately invited into divine communion with Father and Son. 

 “And the glory which You gave Me I have given them, that they may be one just as We are one:  I in them, and You in Me; that they may be made perfect in one, and that the world may know that You have sent Me, and have loved them as You have loved Me” (John 17:22-23).

 Throughout all of these passages, the Holy Spirit is a central presence, sometimes spoken of, sometimes not in the intermingling discourse of the three persons of the Trinity, in which we get to participate.  This is clearly a novum of major proportions.  However much the roots of this Trinitarian discourse are grounded in an overarching second temple historical, textual, and religious common idiom, the differences are significant enough—including the differences in the particular manifestation of the Holy Spirit that through the living Christ a difference that has made a difference in the lives of millions over the millennia, has come into the world.

 

Extra Biblical Jewish Tradition

 From a seminar at Bethel Seminary on Use of the Old Testament in the New Testament

In light of Matthew’s knowledge of extra-biblical Jewish tradition (as reflected in post-NT texts such as the Targum and the Mishnah), how familiar do you think New Testament readers should be with Jewish (i.e., non-Christian) literature? That is, beyond the Old Testament, do you think New Testament readers should be spending time reading Jewish literature? Why or why not?

Context is the critical factor in responding to this important question, namely, what are one’s motivations in reading the NT and how does such knowledge factor in.

I can imagine for more than a few faith-seeking/faith embracing adults whose primary motivation is spiritual edification, drawing broad connections between NT and OT passages facilitated by well written study Bible may be sufficient.  With a singular focus on attaining an ever deeper walk with the Lord, there may not be need for more, though within the context of a church-based educational plan, for courses or workshops providing background knowledge of the life of Jesus, additional information might be well received.  At the least, this would include knowledge about the diverse groups that are mentioned in the NT—Pharisees and Scribes, as well as some knowledge of the Essenes and the Dead Sea Schools.  Given that most of the OT references in the NT are drawn from the Septuagint, some knowledge of that, including sample comparative passages with the Hebrew text might be of value.  Such a comparative reading may offer some valuable insights into the NT that would not be accessible without the comparison.

For other adults seeking a deeper walk with the Lord, biblical and related-historical knowledge could play a more pivotal role in sustaining a high-level faith formation.  Thus, someone with a more cerebral orientation might want to know why the OT portions of their Protestant Bibles are not based on the English translation of the Septuagint rather than the Masoretic text.  This could open up questions about the Council of Jenna (96 AD) and the shaping of the Christian canon, including differences between Protestant and Catholic and Orthodox resolutions.  More broadly, our cerebral-focused faith walker might appreciate a deeper understanding of the Second Temple Judaic period, a curiosity that could be opened up through reading N. T. Wright’s masterful The New Testament and the People of God or Jesus and the Victory of God.  Wright’s texts provide commentary on the wide ranging Jewish literature discussed in Beale and Boyarin.

To kick this up a notch, for those teaching in Christian adult contexts or for those preaching the Word, a reasonable working knowledge of the extra-Biblical Jewish texts, could be additionally helpful, all things being equal, which they seldom are.  Much of this information could be learned contextually, as teachers and preachers consult various sources in preparing specific teaching topics or sermon series.  Even still, in Christ-Centered Biblical Theology, Goldsworthy offers an important insight, namely:

“We have recognized the value of intertestamental texts for understanding the history and culture of the Jews and thus as background to the New Testament.  However, in the canonical perspective, irrespective of the value of the literary works of the period, the prophetic value of these texts is nil” (p. 65).

That’s strong, and may be overstated, but not too much, if one accepts the Bible, in its current canonical form, as the primary source of the revealed Word of God, then the canon, itself should remain the primary source of focus, even while accepting the value of the extra-biblical Jewish sources, as not only providing historical and textual “background” knowledge, but also for additional illumination on the OT and NT texts that might not be otherwise available.

 In his interpretation of the extra-biblical literature, Boyarin has cogently argued in his reading of Daniel 7 on the relationship between the Ancient of Days (God) and the Son of Man, an incarnational interpretation of God enjoyed respectable currency in the Second Temple literature outside of the OT and NT.  On this he notes, the primary contribution of Christianity was its recognition that Jesus, the Messiah was portrayed as God in human flesh.  That there were anticipations of a Messiah, an incarnational theology, and an apocalyptic longing for the coming of the Lord throughout the extra-biblical literature was a given. That’s a valuable insight that can evoke a spirit of understanding, humility, awe, and capacity to enter into respectful interfaith discussions with interested members of the Jewish faith.  Arguably, it is not absolutely necessary for an in-depth appreciation of the Christian faith on its own terms, though it can be helpful.

With these last points folded in among those with specialized interests, the extra-biblical knowledge may have additional value.  With those possessing a more theological orientation, one might want a reasonable working knowledge of this literature to better contextual the Bible and the historical background of both Judaism and Christianity, in which Wright’s texts provide a good deal of that background information.  The theologically oriented faith walker might concentrate more on biblical theology, as exemplified by Goldsworthy, than thick exegesis itself, which seems to be more of the focus of this course. 

That leaves those seeking specialized biblical knowledge for which the literature highlighted in this course opens up invaluable insight.  For those with that interest, the studies introduced here provide useful background for in-depth biblical interpretation.  As exemplified in Beale, even for this group, work would need to extend beyond exegesis, enter into critical dialogue with biblical, historical, and systematic theology, and into the life of the church community.  The extra-biblical Jewish literature could factor into all of these dialogues, but finding pathways into them related to such purposes would be a most critical challenge that would take a variety of forms.

Context matter.

 

The Johannine Community

 From a course I am auditing on Bethel Seminary on the Letters of John

Reflections on the Johannine Community

The Letters of John represent an important component of the literature that comprised what scholarly tradition refers to as the Johannine community, which includes the Gospel of John and perhaps Revelation.  By-passing the latter text, Burge refers to this as a “Johannine school or community or circle” (1) rooted in various locations around Ephesus. Despite differences in focus, the Gospel and the Letters share a common dualistic world view—that of either being inside the beloved community, rooted in the spirit and Incarnation of Christ, and bathed in God’s love, or that of being outside the community, consigned to darkness, whether that be the blindness of the Synagogue (the narrative body of the Gospel of John) or that of the so called, proto-Gnostic, “secessionists” (1, 2 Letters of John) who, in radicalizing the spiritual and material realm, refused to identify the Christ with Jesus in the flesh.  In this, as far as can be drawn from the extant evidence, the opponents of 1 John rejected both the Incarnation and the atonement—the “blood,” in the terminology of 1 John. As reflected in the Gospel, the “darkness, persecution, and turmoil” (Burge Location 386, Kindle) portrayed in the text stemmed from an external source, extremely sharp conflict with the synagogue, as particularly heightened in John 8:31-58.

 By contrast, especially in 1 John, “the once unified congregation,” (Ibid.) (assuming that was the actual state of affairs) began to tear apart from within) over “the proper acknowledgement of [the person] of Jesus” on the relationship to his earthly existence in the flesh (1 John 4:2) and “in his relationship to God as Father and in his mission” (Lieu 9). This was in regard to the Incarnation and atonement, as reflected in the theological high points of the Gospel, and to the significance of his teachings,  as well as the signs, as reflected throughout much of narrative body of the Gospel.

 In terms of working out some of the relationships between the Gospel and the Letters, the focus of their respective antagonistic diatribes may offer gist for some intriguing speculation, though it needs to be acknowledged that the relative silence of the sources remains an ongoing interpretive problem.  The literature points to a Greek and Jewish ethnic mix within the Johannine community, though that leaves open why the Gospel emphasized the Synagogue Jews while 1 and 2 John referenced the proto-Gnostics. Was that a matter of historical time (about a 10-15-year difference between the earlier Gospel and the later Letters?).  Was this a matter of divergence of location of the specific communities within the various Johannine circles?  

 Perhaps in some circles, the relationship between the claims of the Christ camp and the Pharisees were uppermost, most evidently an external foe, though I wonder if there was a muted internal threat—a Jewish analogue to the proto-Gnostics—in the Gospel reflected in the character of Nicodemus as perhaps an interior Jewish-Christian voice that played some significant role throughout the Gospel. Thus, could the writer of 1 and 2 John have had a particular localized focus where the proto-Gnostic challenge to the faith of the saints, at least to the writer and his immediate circle (the “I” and the “we” of 1 John) became the salient matter? I raise the relationship between the Gospel and the Letters because the primary antagonist of each points to the potential audiences each is seeking to address, even as the difference between the two leaves open many intriguing questions.

 The challenge becomes an increasingly intertextual one if one accepts the suggestion by Burge and Lieu that there may be a redactional relationship between the two bodies of texts. On this view, various stories of Jesus were circulating among the Johannine community, many of which ultimately comprised the narrative core of the Gospel.  Eventually the Prologue (1:1-14) and Farewell Discourses (14-17) were added, both of which included a stronger emphasis on the incarnation (Jesus in the flesh). These additions gave the Gospel of John the canonical legitimacy to argue against any appropriation of this Gospel by the various schools of Gnostic thought that were circulating around the first several centuries before the formal adaption of the Incarnation and the Trinity at the various church counsels of the 4^th and 5^th centuries. On this interpretation, these texts were added to the Gospel in response to the tensions experienced by those within the immediate circle of the writer of 1 and 2 John. Thus, the shift in the antagonistic foe from an external enemy reflected in the Gospel’s portrayal of “the Jews” to that of an internal enemy reflected in the secessionist, proto-Gnostics required, as reflected within 1 John, an emphasis on the Incarnation and atonement, were redacted into the later editing of the Gospel of John.

 Sources:

Burge, Gary, M. John, Letters of. In Martin, Davids. Dictionary of the Later New Testament & Its Developments: A Compendium of Contemporary Biblical Scholarship. Dictionary of the Later New Testament & Its Developments. Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2010.

Burge, Gary M. The New Application Commentary: Letters of John. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1998. Kindle

Lieu, Judith, I, II, and III John: A Commentary. Westminster: John Knox Press, 2008.

 

2 Corinthian 5:19

The following is an exchange between myself and an esteemed colleague in response to my emphasis in The Historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith: Marcus Borg and N. T. Wright in Critical Dialogue, wherein I identify 2 Corinthians 5:19 as my hermeneutical framework for situations discussions on the relationship between the historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith. The discussion can be accessed here: https://groups.google.com/forum/#!msg/confessing-christ/Hz6CUgkfeec/bHPAyGrEBgAJ.  Information about  my book can be accessed here http://wipfandstock.com/the-historical-jesus-and-the-christ-of-faith.html and here https://www.amazon.com/Historical-Jesus-Christ-Faith-Critical/dp/1532603282/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1489520883&sr=1-1&refinements=p_27%3AGeorge+Demetrion

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George, how is your suggestion that we start at 2 Cor 5 and go back different than what Wright has done?  I thought that he was taking Second Temple Judaism as the pre history to Jesus’s death and resurrection to understand the incarnation, so that the incarnation was not rooted in the Christ of faith but in the Old Testament. I think your question of depending too much on history is valid but I think Wright is close on history. Help me here if you get this post.  Herb

Herb, you raise an important point in inferring that my hermeneutical reliance on 2 Corinthians 5:19 (God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself) is synonymous with Wright's depiction of Jesus in which, through living out his messianic calling, he was enacting what Paul describes.  On that, there are a few things to consider:

·  On Wright's interpretation that's what Jesus of Nazareth viewed as the ultimate outcome of his path to Jerusalem in which his nearer term objective was to usher in the Jeremiah's new covenant as the true king of the Jews.  While different from other messianic claims within Second Temple Judaism, taken on its own terms, it is part of the micro-history of that era, and as such, can be completely explained within its historical context through the third person perspective of the modern historian 2000 years later.  Recall the brief quote that Wright offers, which we I recently highlighted, in which, I argue, there is nothing intrinsically transcendent about it, as it can be read as pure historical description, even as it is a critical part of the story of revelation that finds its apotheosis in the prologue of John:

“[Jesus] would carry out Israel’s task: and, having pronounced Israel’s impending judgment in the form of the wrath of Rome which would turn out to be the wrath of God, he would go ahead of her and take that judgment on himself, drinking the cup of God’s wrath so that his people might not drink it. In his crucifixion, therefore, Jesus identified fully (if paradoxically) with the aspirations of his people, dying as ‘the king of the Jews’, the representative of the people of God, accomplishing for Israel (and hence the world) what neither the world nor Israel could accomplish for themselves.”

·  There are many descriptions about how the Jesus of history became viewed as the Christ of faith through the interpretation of the church in the struggle for meaning as Christianity spread during the first few centuries of the common era. Gabe traces this in his insightful analysis of Edward Schilibeeckx's, Jesus: An Experiment in  Christology.  This story of how the Jesus of history became the Christ of faith is a staple narrative of the Jesus Seminar, which clearly marks Borg's understanding. This trajectory of how the church increasingly clarified its understanding of Jesus Christ as the incarnation of God and the Second Person of the Trinity is an essential part of the story in understanding how God, himself became revealed in Christ as "the express image of his person" (Heb 1:3). Yet left at that level we are still dealing, in principle, with pure historical third person description and not revelation.

·  My selection of 2 Corinthians 5:19 is to place the emphasis where Paul places it, on the revelation of Christ, in which the proclaimer (of the Kingdom of God) became the proclaimed.  I include an extended discussion of this in footnote # 33, pp. 33-40 of my book, to which I refer you. Keeping the entirety of the New Testament in mind, the Pauline passage allows full scope for all that Wright contends--that Jesus viewed himself as the Jewish messiah, who viewed the impact of his actions as having ultimate worldwide implications (as pervasive in the description of the Servant in Second Isaiah) while having its immediate impact in bringing ancient Jewish history to its covenental fulfillment--while allowing full scope to the highest Christological claims within the NT as found in John 1:1-18 and 17, Colossians 1:15-20 and in the carious high priest depictions in Hebrews. When these texts are taken into consideration, the most exalted claims about Christ can be integrated with pre-resurrection depictions in the Synoptics that provide an incarnational vision of Christ that has become universal in scope both through the impetus of the church through the centuries, as well as through the indelible work of revelation, itself. 

·  The 2 Cor 5:19 passage is meant to give scope to both of these dimensions, in which history and revelation play their roles. This is not radically dissimilar to Wright, but I place more emphasis on the starting point of revelation, where he places considerably more emphasis on history than do I.  I suggest that a fourth quest for the historical Jesus could start here, which would allow historians, theologians, and biblical scholars to take a more fluid approach on the relationship between history and faith in deepening our knowledge of the life of Jesus of Nazareth and the vision of the incarnate Christ within the context of its Trinitarian enfolding.  Such is obviously ongoing work which builds a great deal on what has already been accomplished.

N. T. Wright's View on Penal Substitution

I recently posted the following on the Confessing Christ Listserv. Click here to access the archive page  http://confessingchrist.net/Discussion/tabid/92/Default.aspx

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Greetings once again, colleagues.  It is good to see that at least Janet and Herb are receiving CC messages through email. I assume others are; however, I am not among them and had to retrieve their responses through the archives. I am including my email into the To box in the hope that that will reactivate my receiving CC messages again. Obviously, there are some technological problems here which impede effective communication.

Herb writes: "I don’t have Wright’s book, could you summarize Wright’s position on the climax of the covenant and reformed thinking on atonement?  So we can begin a discussion.  I also wonder where the Incarnation relates? "Herb

I will attempt to do so by posting a very cogent evangelical review of Wright's view of Penal Substitution. (https://blogs.thegospelcoalition.org/trevinwax/2007/04/24/dont-tell-me-nt-wright-denies-penal-substitution/).

The author, Trevin Wax, makes a number of keen observations in his very balanced discussion of Wright's view of the atonement. Among other things, he discusses the importance of keeping both the historical reality of Jesus of Nazareth and Reformed theology in mind. Wright argues that Jesus of Nazareth envisioned his messianic call as ushering in the climax of the OT covenant in the restoration of Israel to its redemptive calling in healing the world to its right relationship with God calling. This he contrasts with the emphasis on individual salvation stemming from the atonement theology of the Reformed tradition based on such key NT passages as Romans 3:21-26, esp. vs 24-25, in which the history of Jesus of Nazareth, as the scholarship on the "New Paul" identifies, gets very little play. The result is that little attention is placed on the broader dimensions on God's work in restoring the world that comes through in the more comprehensive view of salvation that includes the personal, but extends to the healing of the nations and to the creation, itself, as envisioned by Paul in Romans 8:18-25.

I discuss this in footnote #16 in my book, The Historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith: Marcus Borg and N.T. Wright in Critical Dialogue:

Wright acknowledges an atonement theology “embedded within the earliest strands of Christian tradition,” though not one that focused, in its initial meaning, on the matter of individual sin and salvation. Rather, he views the sacrificial death of Christ, as first and foremost, an atonement for the sins of Israel, that “had now been dealt with,” in which, in the death and resurrection of Jesus, the time of national forgiveness had arrived. Meaning of Jesus, 102, 103. Especially, in his more popular work, Wright does not deny the relevance of the atonement for personal salvation, but seeks to situate its individual significance in the broader narrative of Israel’s story as the climax of the covenant. Simply Christian, 108. Critics of the “new Paul” literature express profound concerns about the limitations they perceive Wright places on the importance of individual salvation through the sacrificial blood of the risen savior. In addition to Piper, Future of Justification, see Johnson, “What’s Wrong with Wright.” In my view, in situating the atonement theology of Jesus of Nazareth in and for the sins of Israel, Wright provides an important bridge between the consciousness of Jesus and the theology of the mature Paul found in Romans 3:21–25, when Romans 8:19–25 and 9–11 are factored in. While such a position is invariably theoretical, through the corpus of his work, Wright has amassed a substantial case in support of it.

Stated otherwise, the Jesus of history may not have had the entirety of NT theology in mind in his earthly calling, but there was a sufficient bridge between his role in enacting the climax of the covenant through his sacrifice and the understanding of atonement theology that has emerged throughout the history of the great orthodox theological and doxological tradition through which God took the impetus in Christ (both as the historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith) to reconcile the world to himself (2 Corinthians 5:19). No doubt, there's a good deal of mystery here, but much revelation, as well.

I will conclude with a couple of passages from Wax's essay, "Don't Tell Me N.T. Wright Denies 'Penal Substitution.'"

Regarding substitutionary atonement, Wright offers this plea:

“I am often puzzled and distressed when people question whether I really believe in the substitutionary meaning of Jesus’ death. I would simply say: read my published sermons; read chapter 12 of Jesus and the Victory of God; ask yourself, not whether I go through the hoops of all the words that your tradition has told you we should say, but whether I represent fairly what scripture, and Jesus himself, said about the meaning of his death. That is my only aim.”

N.T. Wright complains that some evangelical presentations of the gospel uproot the message of Jesus from its historical context and transform it into simply an individual’s spiritual experience with God.

“So many popular presentations are far too abstract. They take the whole event out of its context in history, in the story of God and his people, and imagine it simply as a nonhistorical transaction between God and Jesus into which we can somehow be slotted. But the New Testament always insists on seeing the cross as what it was – a horrible and bitter event within history; and it insists that we understand its significance within, not outside, that context.”

The wedding of historical research and theological reflection has broadened Wright’s view of the gospel to include, not only individual salvation in the afterlife, but the present implications that the announcement of Jesus’ lordship have in our world. He claims the Scripture teaches both the personal nature of salvation and the cosmic implications of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Here Wax provides a very apt summary of Wright's view of the atonement:

Perhaps the best understanding of Wright’s view of the atonement is found in his contribution to the New Dictionary of Theology. History and theology come together at the cross. After several pages of historical research regarding Jesus’ life and ministry, Wright states:

“[Jesus] would carry out Israel’s task: and, having pronounced Israel’s impending judgment in the form of the wrath of Rome which would turn out to be the wrath of God, he would go ahead of her and take that judgment on himself, drinking the cup of God’s wrath so that his people might not drink it. In his crucifixion, therefore, Jesus identified fully (if paradoxically) with the aspirations of his people, dying as ‘the king of the Jews’, the representative of the people of God, accomplishing for Israel (and hence the world) what neither the world nor Israel could accomplish for themselves.”

Again placing Jesus’ death in historical context and the overarching biblical narrative, Wright adds: “As the story of the exodus is the story of how God redeemed Israel, so the story of the cross is the story of how God redeemed the world through Israel in person, in Jesus, the Messiah.”

In my view, history is important, but only so in a penultimate sense in a manner that needs to be grasped within the context of revelation, itself, rather than the reverse.  This is one of my major arguments in The Historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith: Marcus Borg and N. T. Wright in Critical Dialogue.

Some Thoughts on the 19th century Evangelist/Theologian Charles G. Finney

I posted this several years ago on the Confessing Christ listserv as part of an extended debate on the orthodoxy of Charles G. Finney's moral government theology.
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I first encountered Finney when I was taking an advanced history course on the U.S. antebellum reform era and the prof, a Christian, recommended Finney. I was also attending an assembly of God church at the time in the full flush of a born again experience in 1972. Finney became the topic for my MA thesis where I focused on his revivals of religion. It was exhilarating studying Finney during the week then going home to the on fire Assembly of God church on the weekends and gaining an experiential sense of the quest for the presence of the spirit of God and a vision of "Victory in Jesus," a core staple of Finney's theology and of the AA church.  Finney never denied the reality of sin, but his best reasoned logic would not allow him to adopt any notion of physical depravity, though he was keen on identifying moral depravity as a voluntary embrace of sin which he tended to identify as specific acts like drinking coffee as well as owning slaves rather than any intrinsic state of mind or spirit.

 At that time I had little understanding of Reformed theology, though I was a good Bible reader in which the Epistle to the Romans was my favored text--a text that Finney spent much time on, also.  For Finney, the theology of Victory in Christ served as a pathway for the embrace of holiness as a lifelong quest with the most serious existential intent.  He did know the difference between justification and sanctification and often returned to the former in his preaching in his objective of being God's agent (aka, attorney) in encouraging potential converts to turn to Christ or what he termed "backsliders" to return home.  On this his preaching could be both incredibly tender as well pointed in its judgmental power in which he took the wrath as well as the love of God with radical seriousness.

 Finney cannot be understood outside the potency of his 1821 conversion experience which served as the touchstone of the remainder of his spiritual life.  For the first 10 years of his post-conversion experience he concentrated on revival preaching from Boston in upper New York State, NYC, and to the pulpits of New England where he was allowed.  This period of his life was marked by a great deal of controversy, which might also be viewed as his most vitriolic period in which he was taking no prisoners.  His caricature of old school religious coldness was one of his chief targets in a period in which one of his key texts, Lectures of Revivals of Religion were published (1835). 

 It is to this text and to this period of his life that most critiques turn to and they miss out or downplay the subtle changes that he underwent from around 1840 through the rest of this life.  His move to Oberlin and his shared ministry with Asa Mahan at the newly formed college was one pivotal factor.  Another, coming from the influence of Mahan, was a renewed experience of the Holy Spirit, which drew for him a very clear distinction  between the spirit of God and human ability.  While he recognized the centrality of both justification and sanctification he clearly emphasized the later as well as the theoretical capacity to obey the will of God as far as we knew it (and for him, that's all that was asked), however much our native ability may have bneen marrred by the consequences of sin. (I'm not necessarily defending this position, but any subtle analysis of Finney's theology needs to be sifted with a knowledge of some of the precise ways he defined this.  The final point I'll major here is that he and his arch rival Charles Hodge carried on a series of very extensive point-counter point debates and it is those debates in particular that need to be carefully sifted through before making a reasoned judgment on Finney's theology and the significance of his broader influence in 19th century U.S. and English Protestant circles.

 I do not consider myself a Finneyite, though there have been periods of my life where his work has been influential in my life in which given both his influence and large body of work merit close examination in which a balanced perspective could emerge through a binocular  affirmational/admonitional reading.

 Two final points;

1. When I read devotional writers or theologians I try to get a sense of some of the ways that God may have been working in their lives (obviously an imperfect science) and then sifting that person's work and my relation to it accordingly in which i am implicitly asking, what is driving me to consider this person's work at this time.  Thus, at one period of my life I was highly influenced by Walter Brueggemann; in more recent times, JI Packer has had much influence in my life.  Our theological interpretations are invariably affected by such inclinations.
2. If one takes seriously the distinction Fackre makes between Scripture as the primary source of faith and theology as a primary resource, the one could make a plausible argument that there is an unfathomable gap between the two in which theology, while valuable is always secondary to a canonical approach to Scripture read through the lenses of common and critical sense, through the third litmus test in the hierarchy of values, the context.  on this reading I would place both Reformed theology and Finney's systematic theology as an important secondary concern and sift both works first and foremost through the monocular lens of Scripture as a serious heuristic worthy of much effort, however ultimately impossible that is to do since context is invariably part of the interpretive process.  At the least this could lead to a "post-critical interpretation" in the sense that the text has its own authorial integrity whatever reader-response bias we place on it,.  Through this approach, one shapes one's theology accordingly, drawing on all the resources that one can, yet, if the hierarch of values does hold (and I realize that for Gabe this schema is a heuristic) then that does suggest turning to the Bible first and foremost for understanding and direction, however much we ,may draw on other resources for amplification.

I've linked one pro-Finney review of BB Warfield's assessment of Finney's theology http://www.angelfire.com/il/horton/nicely[1].htm