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Evangelicals and the Church: An Authentic Unity (Part 1 of 2)

Listen as D. A. Carson speaks on the topic of evangelicalism in this address from The Gospel Coalition Sermon Library.


I’m afraid that my brief in this opening address is not to edify you with an exposition of Scripture but to depress you with problems, but in the conviction that godly sorrow leads to repentance I press on, praying the second of these two talks on Evangelicals and the Church will clean up at least some of the mess and my colleagues in the pulpit will clean up far more than that.

In the days of his flesh, the Lord Jesus said, “I will build my church,” but looking around today at all that calls itself church, one could be forgiven for being less than clear about what the Master meant. Many despise the church but think of themselves as Christians. Many more are formally in some church or other but, one fears, remain unconverted.

To advance the discussion, I shall offer two preliminary remarks and then identify a number of tensions, both theoretical and practical, in evangelical ecclesiology. First, the two preliminary remarks.

1. What is an evangelical?

If we are to reflect on evangelicals and the church, we had better agree on who evangelicals are. Attempted definitions of evangelicalism and evangelical lie in one of three domains.

A) Social science

Those who call themselves, or who are generally called, evangelicals are evangelical. In other words, this is a social grouping that is, in certain respects, self-defined. In one sense, this is a generous approach, but it is also exceedingly slippery. The word means different things in different parts of the world. For example, in Germany evangelisch means roughly non-Catholic, Protestant, and usually Lutheran, so much so that in recent decades Germans have invented a new word, evangelikal.

In the Anglo world, the so-called evangelical movement is fragmenting. Today there are people who call themselves evangelical who no evangelical would have called evangelical a bare three or four decades ago. This leads to the approach of Mark Noll and others. He says there is no theological core that identifies evangelicalism. Rather, it is merely a social movement within broad Christendom.

One of the graduates of Trinity Evangelical Divinity School where I teach was working for a particular publishing house, and that house commissioned her to do a study on Christology within evangelicalism. This would then define for the publishing house what was acceptable. Note, not Christology according to Scripture; Christology according to the movement called evangelicalism, which is getting larger and larger and larger.

If one did a similar study today on the doctrine of God within evangelicalism and then used the results of that study to define what was acceptable, one would have to embrace, for instance, open views of God, a finite God who cannot possibly know the future where free contingent decisions are taken. Although this approach is very common, I never use it in serious discussion. Are evangelical beliefs nothing more than what some who call themselves evangelical believe?

B) Theological

In the second domain, evangelical belongs exclusively to theological definition. Historically, that means not only adherence to the ecumenical creeds but to something more. The ecumenical creeds lay out the triune nature of God, his sovereignty and transcendence, his personhood, his incarnation in the line of David, the death and resurrection of Jesus, the work of the Holy Spirit consequent upon the Son’s resurrection and ascension, teleology in history (that is, history moving to a determined goal, ultimately the general resurrection), and the new heaven and the new earth, the home of righteousness, and so forth.

The “more” is clarity with respect to two elements, which historically have been called the formal principle and the material principle. The formal principle is the final and exclusive authority of Scripture over against, on the one hand, the view of the deposit of faith in the church espoused by medieval Catholicism and on, and on the other hand, over against liberalism, which undermines the authority of Scripture in one fashion or another. The material principle is the gospel bound up with the cross work of the Lord Jesus Christ. When evangelicalism and evangelicals are defined this way, three things follow.

First, we hold that evangelicalism at its best is that position that adheres most closely to the Bible, the Word of God. This is not arrogance. It is the logic of our formal principle. That is, with our whole hearts we want to bring everything into submission to Scripture. Our whole passion is not so much to be masters of the Word as to be mastered by it.

Secondly, we can then apply the term evangelicalism even to some who do not primarily think of themselves as evangelical because what interests us is a theological position that is held. Thus, in parts of the world where there is still a confessing, conservative Lutheranism, though most Lutherans do not call themselves, in the Anglo world, evangelical, with this theological definition of evangelical, that is what they are. Many in the Reformed camp prefer to call themselves Reformed rather than identifying themselves as evangelical, but with this theological definition of evangelical it is possible to embrace these as well and so forth.

Thirdly, we can talk in terms of self-reformation if we buy into this definition of evangelical into a theological definition. Self-reformation under Scripture in the light of Scripture. We will lose this power where the first definition of evangelicalism prevails. That is, where there is merely a social science definition. In that case, should the social science definition prevail, evangelicalism and evangelical will become useless terms.

That is quite possible. I’m neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet and I work for a non-profit organization. Nevertheless, Carl F.H. Henry, who has been extraordinarily influential in American evangelicalism in this century, is quite prepared to venture the opinion that in a few years evangelicalism as a term will be theologically useless because so many people now embrace it.

I do not know if he is correct or not, but that is the explanation behind the need to invent adjectives like conservative evangelical and confessional evangelical versus liberal evangelical and so forth. Whenever evangelical becomes connected with a social science definition, it is on the road toward becoming useless. If instead evangelical is bound up with a theological definition, then we may hope for a reprieve of the word and, more importantly, self-reformation in the light of Scripture.

C) Labeling

The term evangelical in some parlance refers to the regenerate, to the truly converted, to the genuine Christian. I do not use the term that way. It has many problems. One understands why the term is used that way. After all, if evangelicalism is bound up with the proclamation of the Evangel, then the evangelical is someone who has so received that gospel that they truly have been converted and are Christians.

Nevertheless, there are, as we all know, many, many men and women who are not particularly consistent with respect to the Evangel who, nevertheless, are regenerate. Moreover, I do not want to be the judge of who is and who is not regenerate.

Not only so, but in the name of charity, to suddenly discover people who, as far as we can see, truly are regenerate but who espouse all kinds of strange beliefs on this point or that point, exerts a kind of back pressure into the second definition so that the theological definition itself becomes wobbly precisely because we’re trying to be charitable about who is and who is not regenerate. It is much better not to use the term evangelical or evangelicalism to define who is a true Christian or the like. In my usage, therefore, evangelical and evangelicalism refer to a theological position.

2. Evangelicals are often accused, especially by Roman Catholics and some Anglo Catholics, of not having an ecclesiology or, at least, not having a very good one or a mature one.

To this I must respond with two comments.

A) It is not so much that evangelicals have no ecclesiology as that we have too many of them. Dispensationalism has a certain kind of ecclesiology.

In the classic mode, the church is a parenthetical institution that will be removed by the rapture in order to make way for the fulfillment of God’s plans for Israel.

Covenant theology, in its historic form, has a certain ecclesiology. In this view, there is a massive continuity in the people of God and the locus of the people of God from the old covenant to the new, and what there is that is new is primarily information. In Anglicanism, there are several different and competing ecclesiologies, as we shall see. In the believers church tradition, so-called, there are again several different ecclesiologies. It’s not that we don’t have ecclesiology; it’s that we have a lot of them, and they are not mutually compatible

B) In one sense, it is not that evangelicals have no ecclesiology but that Roman Catholics and Anglo Catholics, by the logic of their own position, do not like or accept such ecclesiology as we do have.

The reason is obvious. For them, ecclesiology is defining. In that sense, ecclesiology is raised above soteriology. “It is important that you belong to Mother Church. After that, we’ll work out the soteriology.”

For us, it is the reverse. That is, it is important that you know the gospel of Jesus Christ by which we are saved. After that, we’ll work out precisely what is and what is not the church. For us, it is the gospel that defines us not the ecclesiology. That, of course, is precisely one of the reasons why we experience tension among ourselves on some ecclesiological matters.

Roman Catholics, broadly speaking, preserve some degree of ecclesiological unity, for this defines them. Yet, this unity can be so broad that it embraces Schilowitz and Ratzinger, the pope, and Gustavo GutiÈrrez, whose theological positions are so mutually incompatible it’s hard to believe they could belong in one organization, but the organization is what counts because, in their view, it has descended through appropriate authorities from the first pope.

I recall my first remembered theological discussion. I think I was 8 or 9. There was a charming Catholic girl in my grade at school who was telling me the Catholics were right because they could trace themselves all the way back to Peter, the first pope. I didn’t know how to answer, so I replied that we were still earlier because there was actually a Baptist before there was even Jesus. I’m not sure if I won that one on points or lost.

With these two preliminary reflections out of the way, I turn now to identify a number of tensions in evangelical ecclesiology.

1. Despite our fundamental agreement on the gospel, we differ on the fundamental structures of the church.

By fundamental structures of the church, I include the locus (that is, who is in and who is not), the governance, the discipline, and such other matters as forms of corporate worship and the like. All of these are important.

As far as the locus is concerned, one could begin with the believers church tradition and compare it with, let’s say, high Presbyterianism which, like the old covenant, makes a distinction between the locus of the people of God and the locus of the elect or the regenerate. Under the old covenant, one entered the community primarily by birth, and the covenantal sign was circumcision.

For us, in high Presbyterianism, it’s baptism. This does not guarantee that one is regenerate, in this view, but rather the locus of the covenant community is not precisely to be identified with the locus of the regenerate or the locus of the redeemed, the locus of the elect. Whereas, in the believers church tradition, it is precisely the intent to bring those two loci together, and of course, there are many other views.

In Anglicanism, some evangelical Anglicans adopt roughly the Presbyterian view of the locus, and yet at the same time, Anglicanism does embrace not only Anglo Catholics but liberals and evangelicals of many different stripes. One is an Anglican not primarily out of a defined theological position heuristically but for other reasons, unless one says, as some Anglicans do say, that only a proper Anglican is one who adopts the Thirty-nine Articles, and so forth, but in that case, of course, one is really saying there are some improper Anglicans, second-class Anglicans.

Of course, on the other side are the embarrassing realities of church life in the believers church tradition. We insist in the believers church tradition that the locus of the covenant community and the locus of the regenerate should be one and the same, except experience teaches us there are many who walk among us who, to use the language of 1 John, never were “of us.” If they had been of us, they would have remained with us, but their going shows they never were of us.

To some extent, these differences are aligned with denominational allegiances, but there are also huge differences within denominations. Moreover, the tenacity with which each view is held varies significantly. Some Anglicans, for example, think Anglicanism is simply the best boat from which to fish, whereas others have adopted overtones of descent from the church of the Middle Ages and earlier through the system of archiepiscopal rule. These differences, then, affect interchurch trust, the movement of members, shared missions, and the like.

2. Despite our fundamental agreement on the gospel, we differ on the significance and application of the Christian initiation rite.

Not simply the difference between paedo-baptists and, perhaps I should call them, credo-baptists, so that both parties have an adjective. There are different breakdowns within these traditions.

In the credo-baptist camp, some see baptism as a second step beyond conversion, whereas others see it as an initiation rite to be connected with conversion. In the paedo-baptist camp, one must distinguish the Lutheran view, the Presbyterian view, and a number of other views, all the way to a minority report from some in Australia who hold that all the significant passages on baptism really refer to Spirit baptism, and therefore, following the Hooker principle, the church is free to prescribe what it likes so far as water baptism is concerned because the relevant passages don’t touch them.

I recall when I was a Baptist pastor of a church in Vancouver baptizing a football hunk. This particular church building had what I disrespectfully refer to as the Punch-and-Judy variety of baptistery. Have you seen these baptisteries where there is sort of a little square window or a rectangular window in the back wall with a piece of glass? The water comes up halfway to the glass, a little curtain pulls back, and there’s a sort of Punch-and-Judy baptism.

Whoever designed that needs his head examined. This baptistery was rather shallow, and this chap I was about to baptize was rather big. Although I knew about the Archimedean principle, I filled the baptistery a little fuller that time and gave him the appropriate instructions about just bending at the knees and keeping his back straight, that the water and I would do the work.

He thought he would help. He launched himself backward and a tidal wave went over the top. I have been telling people for years that it was the only occasion in which I managed to get one by immersion and three by affusion. That really was re-baptism. Three deacons down below, all appropriately affused.

At about the same time, I baptized a young man who was 17 years old, and he was water phobic. I would have been happy to do him by affusion or sprinkling or anything else (he really was scared witless), but from his point of view, he wanted to be immersed. That was part of his sign that he was really following Christ, and I didn’t really want to discourage him, so again I gave him the appropriate directions and tried to pray with him and encourage him and counsel him to take away his fear.

Unfortunately, when he went down, he panicked. His feet came off the ground and despite the fact that I pushed him down his derriere hit the bottom and about this much of his hair stayed above. With our little glass Punch-and-Judy show, everybody could see that was the case. I knew I was going to have problems, and sure enough, afterwards two or three of the leading lights of the church approached up the left aisle with a serious look on their faces and asked, “Pastor Don, was that proper baptism?”

What was I to say? I responded in a very foolish manner. I should have foreseen what my comment would cause. I said, “I don’t really think it is the quantity of the water that is critical.” Three big men all bristled. “In that case, we might as well be paedo-baptists.” It was not said with great respect, so I said, “No! There is a difference. At least we tried.” Somehow that managed to carry the day.

One perceives right away these matters can be deeply engrained in our self-identity and that within Baptist circles (credo-baptist circles and paedo-baptist circles) there is a wide diversity of the significance and importance of these matters. Understandably, Presbyterians and Anglicans take umbrage at Baptists for what they take to be re-baptism, which by Baptist light is authentic baptism.

Understandably, Baptists in the light of their understanding of Scripture, dismiss infant baptism as unbiblical unaccompanied as it is by the conscious faith of the person being baptized, while paedo-baptists think they are not only biblically faithful but in line with old covenant practices. Not only does each side think the other wrong, but this difference affects to some extent how we preach the gospel and, certainly, the question of church membership when people move from place to place.

There are various solutions. In the case of Baptists, the solution is to be immersed. In the case of groups like the FIEC in this country, it is possible to accept people from another perspective as members even when they have not been immersed. If I may offer an editorial comment, there are advantages and disadvantages both ways as far as I can see.

In North America, the group that funds Trinity Evangelical Divinity School where I teach, like many denominations in North America, is defined by its Old World heritage. It’s called the Evangelical Free Church of America, and it is made up, believe it or not, of Norwegian Free Lutherans and Swedish Baptists who, somewhere along the line, decided Scandinavian blood is thicker than baptismal water and agreed each side could articulate its own view, yet both sides would accept the practices of others. If not accept the practices, at least accept the people who had been done under those practices.

Over the years what has happened, I have observed, is apart from the very ablest ministers, there has been a tendency among the rest to downplay baptism because it is something that is a divisive point, so suddenly baptism becomes as insignificant as one could imagine. It is an optional extra. One eventually has no theology of baptism as if it were never part of the Great Commission.

I realize baptism does not have the same role in salvation as faith does. Otherwise, the apostle Paul could not say when he preached in Corinth, and he preached the gospel fully and committed.… He didn’t really bother too much if he baptized anybody beyond the house of Stephanas. Others could do that.

Yet, if we do not develop a theology of baptism that is consonant with the whole structure of the New Testament, however you take that structure to be, sooner or later we open up our congregations, I think, to those of Church of Christ and other persuasion who insist that baptism is absolutely necessary for salvation.

3. Despite our fundamental agreement on the gospel, we differ as to which things are most important, or put more negatively, which things to fight over.

At the risk of a sweeping generalization, I suspect for Presbyterians the matter of church government is more important than the matter of baptism. Whereas, with Baptists it’s the reverse.

Sometimes the tenacity of our convictions is a well-thought-out structure. Sometimes it is the inability to hierarchealize truth, so that in our structured thought everything has roughly the same importance. In the Reformed tradition, at the risk of some simplification, one could track out the Westminster heritage on the one hand and a Heidelberg heritage on the other. They have a rather different approach to the Lord’s Day.

For those who find it really difficult to hierarchialize matters, however, those in the Westminster tradition can on occasion take what you are wearing and doing and not doing on Sunday to be tied to the moral Law of God, the Ten Commandments, thus the character of God and the honor of God, so that finally what kind of clothes you’re wearing on Sunday has roughly the same moral and eternal significance as, “You shall not commit murder.”

Somewhere along the line, then, we had better face the fact that we differ not only on certain things but on which things to differ about. That has to be taken into account as well. Sometimes our very self-identity becomes bound up with relatively peripheral issues.

4. Despite our fundamental agreement on the gospel, we differ sometimes because of different degrees of discernment.

Turn, if you will, in Scripture to Galatians, chapter 2. I would like to take at least a few moments to look at verses 11 to 14. The apostle Paul writes, “When Peter came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly in the wrong.

Before certain men came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But when they arrived, he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group. The other Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, so that by their hypocrisy even Barnabas was led astray.

When I saw that they were not acting in line with the truth of the gospel, I said to Peter in front of them all, ‘You are a Jew, yet you live like a Gentile and not like a Jew. How is it, then, that you force Gentiles to follow Jewish customs?’ ” For years I thought that certain men from James at the beginning of verse 12 refers to the same group as the circumcision group at the end of verse 12, in which case the thought runs something like this:

Peter has come up to Antioch and he is happy to eat with Jews and Gentiles alike, but now certain men from James … that is, Christians from conservative Jewish background in Jerusalem … come up to Antioch, and they do not feel free in conscience to eat with the broader church or with the Gentiles, so they reserve a kosher table. They are the circumcision group.

What Peter is then said to be afraid of at the end of verse 12 is this conservative Jewish element which is choosing to eat apart, so that by his moral influence as he gradually moves over to this camp, he manages to convey the impression that you’re not really quite with it, you’re not really quite faithful unless you adopt the kosher food laws as Christians. That puts you into a separate camp. It makes you part of the elite of the elect, perhaps, and by the moral suasion of Peter, even Barnabas is duped.

I think that is a misreading of the passage. That reading of the passage turns, finally, on assuming certain men from James and the circumcision group refer to the same people, whereas the dominant use of both is a little different. Certain men from James really does refer to some from the Jerusalem church and probably sent by James himself, not simply from the Jerusalem church but James’ emissaries, forcing one to at least raise the question: What are they conveying? What are they bringing from James?

Moreover, the expression the circumcision group more commonly in Paul refers to unconverted Jews. That is, people who still belong to the circumcision party who are not yet Christians. It has been suggested, and I find this plausible, that what certain men from James convey is something like this:

If the dating here is something like 42 or 43 AD when we know there was an outbreak of persecution in Jerusalem from the conservative Jewish side against the Christians, James may be saying something like, “Peter, we beg of you to be careful. Word is coming back to Jerusalem that you, you of all people, are eating in a non-kosher context. We know what happened earlier in Acts 10 and 11.

We know Gentiles can be accepted. We’re not asking you to overturn the grace of God. We’re not trying to add something extra for Gentile believers, but you must understand that by your conduct pressure is being brought to bear in the form of persecution on Christians back home in Jerusalem. Be very careful what you do.”

In which case, verse 12 reads, “Before certain men came from James … that is, with this message from James.… Peter used to eat with Gentiles, but when they arrived he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group.” That is, to the persecuting Jews in Jerusalem who were causing trouble amongst the Christians back home, and he was trying to act in a way that would alleviate the pressure on them.

That means from Peter’s point of view, what he is doing is honorable. From Peter’s point of view, he’s trying to act wisely. The other view makes it appear that Peter can go through the experiences of Acts 10 and 11 (the sheet dropped from heaven in a vision and so forth, the episodes with Cornelius) and then defend this to the church back in Jerusalem and win the day and yet come up here in Antioch, and simply because a few Jews are present of more conservative disposition, he flips. It’s not very credible.

This view makes a lot more sense. Peter thinks he’s acting honorably, but Paul sees, although Peter thinks he’s acting honorably, for the sake of the Christians back home in Jerusalem there are spin-offs to his conduct. The spin-offs here are what is taking place in the minds of Gentile Christians. Here is Peter acting in such a way that unavoidably he’s giving the impression there is a higher level of spirituality than that which is attained by the cross. It is bound up with returning to the law.

Paul sees that, sooner or later, this is going to call in question the exclusive sufficiency of the cross, so Paul offers a public rebuke. My guess (it is only a guess) is that Paul and Peter have actually talked about this already, but it has gotten so far now that Paul has to rebuke the man publicly.

The question is.… Who is truly discerning in this case? Precisely because this is in Canon, I insist it was Paul. The whole argument of Galatians turns on the exclusive sufficiency of Christ and nothing, nothing, nothing is allowed to stand over against that. If it means some Christians are persecuted in consequence, so be it. Christians will be persecuted in consequence. Otherwise, finally, you jeopardize the gospel and make it into something that is no gospel at all (verses 8 and 9 of chapter 1).

That means, even amongst the apostles, one man got to this discerning stance before another did. This suggests, then, that in matters ecclesiological and related to discipline and a whole slew of other things, we had better face the fact that sometimes there are going to be more discerning and less discerning people amongst us and they’re going to disagree, and going through those debates will not be pleasant.

Just ask some of our brothers and sisters in Christ in Anglicanism in Australia at the moment where, clearly, good people are disagreeing on what to do with Peter Carnley. Sooner or later, we have to ask the awkward questions, “Who is more discerning? What do the Gospels say?”

5. Despite our fundamental agreement on the gospel, we differ on many ecclesiastical matters, in part, because some of us foster the tendency to absorb large parts of our culture, for good and ill, while others of us foster the tendency to tie ourselves to tradition as an antidote to current cultural influences, for good and ill.

I’m reminded of what Paul writes in 1 Corinthians, chapter 9. I wish I had time to expound this passage at length. In 1 Corinthians 9, verses 19 and following, the apostle writes, “Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law.

To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some.I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.”

A superficial reading of this paragraph suggests Paul is confused. He can’t quite decide whether he’s under the law or not. On the one hand, he says he is not under the law but has to become like one under the law. On the other hand, he says he’s not free from God’s law. Part of our problem here, I think, is that we have sometimes considered the apostle Paul to be a Jew who became a Christian, and as a Jewish Christian then flexed to reach Gentiles.

That is not how Paul sees himself. Paul sees himself in what commentators have sometimes called the tertium quid, the third position, the third place. He is a Christian under the new covenant, and he has to flex to act like a Jew, and he has to flex to act like a Gentile. He is not a Jewish Christian who merely flexes to become, more or less, a Gentile. He is a Christian. He is himself no longer under the law covenant. He is under the new covenant.

That raises all kinds of questions about the relationships between the old covenant and the new that I can’t probe here, but he sees himself as bound, not by the old covenant, but by the new, and yet … and yet … within that framework, he is prepared to flex and act like a Jew and submit to things indifferent and circumcise Timothy. If there is no slight on the exclusive sufficiency of Jesus, if it will advance the gospel, he’s very flexible with this respect.

On the other hand, he is prepared to flex the other way, too, and adopt all kinds of practices that would not be his first choice and act like a pagan, but of course, he cannot act like a pagan without reserve or caveat. He says, nevertheless, he is not free from God’s law, from God’s demands, from God’s teaching, or from God’s restraint; he is, rather, under Christ’s law. Within that framework, therefore, there are some limits to how far he can flex, but within those limits, he will flex a great deal.

With that passage in mind, what do you think of Willow Creek? Am I stepping on everybody’s toes today a little bit? They’re an easy target, but at least they’re asking one important question. The question is … What things are merely traditional among us and not binding that impede the progress of the gospel? That’s a good question to ask. That doesn’t always mean we have to agree with their answers. It doesn’t always mean they have a comprehensive enough view of biblical theology to answer it well, but it is a good question to ask.

It is astonishing how flexible this man is. We sometimes, in our parlance, speak of “all things to all men” as some kind of empty-headed, unprincipled, people-pleaser with no backbone, no courage. “He’s just all things to all men,” whereas in this context, Paul views this as a badge of honor. He is prepared to become all things to all men so that, by all means, he may win some.

I suspect we differ on many ecclesiastical matters in part because some of us foster the tendency to absorb large parts of our culture, for good and ill, while others of us foster the tendency to tie ourselves to tradition as an antidote to current cultural influences, for there are certainly some influences that are absorbed into the church that do desperate damage, and the full significance of the damage that has been done won’t be perceived for 50 years or 70 years or 100 years.

Sometimes we try to protect ourselves by referring to the great moments of the past, the great principles of past generations of believers, and tie ourselves to tradition, and in some ways, thus, become a separate community in the world, a witnessing community that is bold and courageous and separate from the world, but which then has the danger on its part of being out of touch with this generation. Some of our ecclesiastical differences turn on such matters as these. I warned you I was simply raising questions, raising problems. We’ll try to look at some answers next time.

6. Despite our fundamental agreement on the gospel, we differ, let it be said, because of ministerial jealousy and fear.

The kinds of things Paul has to confront in Philippians 1. “Some preach the gospel out of envy and strife.” Oh, they preach the gospel but manage to slant it in such a way as to leave Paul, as it were, isolated. “I’ve been preaching the gospel for years, and I’ve seen a lot of converts, and I haven’t gone in jail like some people.”

You can just hear the condescending tones. Paul writes, “What do I care? Whether for good reasons or bad, at least Christ is preached.” Sometimes, let it be said with shame, we disagree with ministerial practices and ecclesiastical stances partly because those who are doing them seem to be more successful. Above all, here we need to examine our own hearts.

After all of these really quite negative things, I want to conclude with one small positive reflection in anticipation of where we are going next day. John 17, the last verses, beginning at verse 20. On the night he was betrayed, the Master prayed, and the last segment of his prayer is:

“My prayer is not for them alone, the first disciples. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.

Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory, the glory you have given me because you loved me before the creation of the world. Righteous Father, though the world does not know you, I know you, and they know that you have sent me. I have made you known to them, and will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them.”

This passage, I submit to you, is regularly abused by evangelicals and non-evangelicals alike. It is used primarily to whip Christians into feelings of guilt because we are not more unified. “Dear ol’ Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, prayed this prayer, and this prayer has been frustrated ever since. Let’s get some unity so Jesus’ prayer will be answered.” We don’t put it quite as crassly as that, but that’s roughly the direction of many sermons from this passage.

Then, how that unity is to be expressed depends on the underlying ecclesiology. If you’re a Roman Catholic, it means, “Come back to Mother Rome.” I have come to suspect in recent years when John writes this he believes Jesus’ prayer was answered. After all, all the other prayers of Jesus in John are answered. They’re answered! Jesus is heard. His sacrifice is accepted. Part of the prayer here is precisely that they will see Jesus in all of his glory. That’s answered.

I’m not suggesting for a moment that it is answered without caveat, that it is answered without qualification (not for a moment), but it is answered very substantially amongst people who believe the gospel, who are transformed by the gospel, who do share surprising unity despite all kinds of differences and who do see men and women genuinely converted in consequence.

This is not a time to be fainthearted. This is a time to believe that Jesus’ prayer is answered and is being answered by men and women today who believe passionately in the gospel and who love one another for Jesus’ sake. God knows we get in the way in all kinds of ways, but that’s part of our situation this side of the new heaven and the new earth, isn’t it? Nevertheless, Jesus prays for his people and they will receive that for which he prayed. He prays for Peter that his faith fail not. Peter ends up preaching on that first Pentecost. Jesus’ prayers are heard.

A few years ago I was lecturing and then preaching in Finland. The sponsoring group was some Finnish Norwegians of more conservative bent. The Finnish church is in its hierarchy and its leadership and its academic training at the university in Helsinki extremely liberal, but this small confessional group, a mission-sending group, was confessional, strong.

One of its leaders, Timo Laato, has written an extremely important book on justification. I was there preaching and teaching. There were some missionaries and some pastors and some students and some larger groups and so forth. I had a wonderful time in the gospel. Then Sunday came, and the bishop was going to lead Holy Communion. Knowing of Lutheran sensitivities, I discreetly inquired whether I would be permitted to partake. The bishop sent back word in classic Lutheran style, “If Dr. Carson feels in terrible soul need, he will be permitted.”

My hosts were incensed. We had been sharing the gospel all week. We had common passions to see people converted. We were working on joint projects, but this bishop, who doesn’t really believe very much of anything, has to follow a lot of ecclesiastical rules to keep me out precisely because I’m one of those nasty evangelicals. Where is the real unity? Isn’t the real unity around the gospel here? Jesus’ prayer was being fulfilled all week. It took an unbelieving bishop to fight it. Dear man needed to get converted. Let us pray.

Grant us, Lord God, we beseech you, listening ears to your most Holy Word, attentive minds and hearts that we may grasp the glory of the gospel, the wonders of the Savior, the sheer joy of sins forgiven, that we may walk in obedience to the Spirit who animates us and conforms us to the Lord Jesus in anticipation of the glories of the new heaven and the new earth, the home of righteousness.

Grant that we may not cover over the things that divide us but to bring things back again and again and again so far as we are able to the test of Scripture to see what is of crucial significance for the progress of the gospel in our generation, to be faithful, to be forbearing, to be strong, to be compassionate, to be principled, to be forgiving, to be obedient, to be non-judgmental. For Jesus’ sake, amen.

 

Is there enough evidence for us to believe the Gospels?

In an age of faith deconstruction and skepticism about the Bible’s authority, it’s common to hear claims that the Gospels are unreliable propaganda. And if the Gospels are shown to be historically unreliable, the whole foundation of Christianity begins to crumble.
But the Gospels are historically reliable. And the evidence for this is vast.
To learn about the evidence for the historical reliability of the four Gospels, click below to access a FREE eBook of Can We Trust the Gospels? written by New Testament scholar Peter J. Williams.