Couldn't Help Noticing

Visions of God

All sorts of people have claimed to see visions of God, of Christ, of Mary or of the saints over the centuries. And, from time to time, the Roman Catholic church has endorsed such visions and used them to encourage people in their allegiance to the Roman church.

But Martin Luther, the great Reformer and opponent of Roman Catholic teaching, also saw visions—sometimes in considerable detail. Here he describes one such appearing:

And the more steadfastly to confirm me in this resolution, to hold solely by God's Word, and not to give credit to any visions or revelations, I shall relate the following circumstance:—On Good Friday last, I being in my chamber in fervent prayer, contemplating with myself, how Christ my Saviour on the cross suffered and died for our sins, there suddenly appeared upon the wall a bright vision of our Saviour Christ, with the five wounds, steadfastly looking upon me, as if it had been Christ himself corporally.

How does he respond? The pious Roman Catholic would surely have been extraordinarily impressed by seeing such a vision of glory. Not Luther:

At first sight, I thought it had been some celestial revelation, but I reflected that it must needs be an illusion and juggling of the devil, for Christ appeared to us in his Word, and in a meaner and more humble form; therefore I spake to the vision thus: Avoid thee, confounded devil: I know no other Christ than he who was crucified, and who in his Word is pictured and presented unto me. Whereupon the image vanished, clearly showing of whom it came.

(Martin Luther, ‘Of Christ's Work’, Table Talk, CCXXXVI.)

Luther had absorbed Paul's teaching to the Galatians well: “But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach to you a gospel contrary to the one we preached to you, let him be accursed.” (Gal 1:8). No matter how impressive the messenger or how great the vision, our assurance as Christians comes from the gospel that we read in Scripture and from nowhere else.

More Anglican fuss

Gene Robinson is apparently upset that he has not been invited to attend the Bishops' conference at Lambeth this year (The Sydney Morning Herald, 11 March 2008).

The theological differences between Bishop Robinson and evangelical Anglicans over homosexuality are well-known and well-traversed. But what I find interesting is what this report reveals about the different way he views Anglican polity. He refers to the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, as his “chief pastor and shepherd”. I seriously doubt you'd ever hear Peter Jensen or any evangelical bishops from around the world referring to Rowan Williams as their “chief pastor and shepherd”. For a start, that's not how they would understand the official relationship between their church and Canterbury. But secondly, and more importantly, I think they'd probably think that there is someone better qualified to be their chief pastor and shepherd—someone who sits on a heavenly throne, not a throne in Canterbury. Where might they get such an idea? Well, one place would be The Book of Common Prayer service for the consecration of a Bishop where Jesus is referred to as the “chief Shepherd”. They'd also get it from the Bible (e.g. Ezek 34:15, John 10:11).

The other curious thing about the Gene Robinson quote in the article is that he likens himself to the “lost sheep”. Um, Gene, wasn't the lost sheep the one who had “gone astray”, who was in danger of ‘perishing’, and who needed to be saved—in short, the “sinner” who needed to ‘repent’ (Matt 18:12-14, Luke 15:4-7)?

John Woodhouse prays

I have always been helped by John Woodhouse's talks and writings (John is the principal of Moore Theological College). Here is some of his writing in the latest Moore College Prayer Bulletin (link is a pdf download):

There is a remarkable connection in the Bible between righteousness and prayer. ‘The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working’ (James 5:16). ‘The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry.’ (Psalm 34:15). The converse of this was recognised by the man born blind, who was healed by Jesus: ‘We know that God does not listen to sinners ...’ (John 9:31). Both sides are expressed in the proverb: ‘The Lord is far from the wicked, but he hears the prayer of the righteous’ (Proverbs 15:29). On the one hand this must remind us that real prayer depends on our being right with God, by his grace. Only the forgiven children of the Father, who are righteous in his sight because of Jesus (cf. Romans 3:26; 1Corinthians 1:30), can expect their prayers to be heard. Consciousness of our righteousness before God ought to lead to confidence in our prayers. Are you righteous in God's sight? Then pray! ‘He hears the prayer of the righteous.’

On the other hand we cannot expect to be people who really pray unless our righteousness before God is important to us. Honest (rather than some kind of legalistic) calling on God will only come from hearts that long to live ‘as God's chosen ones’ (Colossians 3:12). It is not possible to truly bring our requests to him without at the same time yearning to please him in all things (see Colossians 3:12-14). Therefore the connection between prayer and righteousness extends to practical obedience in our lives. ‘Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whatever we ask we receive from him, because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him’ (1 John 3:21, 22).

“Are you righteous in God's sight? Then pray!” says John Woodhouse, for “he hears the prayer of the righteous” (Prov 15:29).

These words are a great comfort, and a spur to action as well. Did you notice that Woodhouse simply assumes that we can know that we are righteous? If someone doesn't know God, this sort of talk comes across as a most disgusting piece of personal arrogance and conceit. Those who don't know God read claims like this as pride in its purest form: how dare somebody think that they are righteous (that is to say, ‘not guilty’ in the eyes of God) and then act accordingly! They deserve not salvation, but censure and condemnation.

This is the matter at the heart of it. Of course they deserve censure and condemnation. So do we! That's what the Bible teaches, and we know in our heart of hearts that this is true of ourselves as well. But because Jesus died in our place, no condemnation is left, and the only thing that remains is to thank the Lord God that he provided complete satisfaction for our sins through the death of his Son.

And if we know we are righteous, we can pray. God will hear us, and he will answer.

Melbourne Anglicans call for old stance on abortion

(From Jereth Kok, one of our Briefing readers in Eaglemont VIC, Australia.)

In August 2007, Victorian Premier John Brumby initiated a legislative process which will almost certainly result in the decriminalization of abortion in Victoria, Australia. This process allowed community groups and churches to write to the state's Law Reform Commission, expressing their views and wishes concerning the issue.

One might have thought that this presented a wonderful opportunity for the Anglican church to witness to its historic position, grounded in Scripture, that all human life is sacred. This position was affirmed by the 1930 Lambeth Conference when it recorded “its abhorrence of the sinful practice of abortion”, and more recently by the 1989 Australian General Synod, which called on Australian governments “to uphold the rights of the unborn child”. In 2004, former Archbishop Peter Watson described the moral tragedy of abortion and bewailed his church's failure to address it.

Yet to the horror of hundreds of Anglicans, the Melbourne Diocese made a Submission to the Law Commission which expressed a position totally at odds with the church's historic, biblical stance. This Submission, which journalist Barney Zwartz has called “the first official approval of abortion by Australian Anglicans”, completely sidestepped the biblical doctrine of humanity made in the image of God, and instead espoused a “gradualist” ethic:

Our consensus view is the gradualist position which argues that while the embryo/foetus is fully human from the time of conception, it accrues moral significance and value as it develops.

While we believe that the destruction even of an early embryo is of moral significance, we believe the moral significance increases with the age and development of the foetus. The significance increases gradually over time, in parallel with its physical development. As a pregnancy advances, more powerful moral reasons are required to allow the destruction of the embryo/foetus. It is more serious to consider destroying a foetus at 28 weeks than at 10 weeks. We would want to see this distinction noted in any legislative provisions, though we would counsel against a legislated absolutist end-point after which an abortion could not proceed.

(Submission to the Victorian Law Reform Commission from the Anglican Diocese of Melbourne, p. 3.)

The Submission states that the Diocese supports the provision of “affordable abortions ... for women who, for whatever reasons, request them” (p. 4), agrees that “public acceptance of the reality of abortion ... indicates that a change in the law is timely” (p. 3), and finally recommends that the Crimes Act be amended to decriminalize abortions up to the age of 28 weeks.

Perhaps just as distressing as the Submission itself is the stream of misleading and even dishonest statements proceeding from the Diocese. Firstly, there have been assertions in the Submission such as “Historically, the wider Anglican Communion has said very little on abortion” (p. 2) and “The Anglican Church has predominantly been silent about abortion” (p. 1). This deceptively gives the impression that Anglicans have heretofore been ambivalent or agnostic on abortion, when in fact the church has consistently criticized the practice—a pattern that Melbourne has now broken with its novel position.

Secondly, it is repeatedly said that the Submission represents a “consensus” (p. 1), when the plain fact is that a significant portion of the Diocese finds its conclusions downright repugnant. Moreover, even the committee of eight women which produced the Submission evidently did not reach a “consensus”: the conspicuous absence of one name on the final document speaks volumes.

Thirdly, we are told that the “gradualist” ethic is none other than the position adopted by the Church of England. However, documents available on the CofE website, and successive resolutions of its Synod (in 1983, 1993 and 2002) make it clear that the CofE upholds the historic Christian view of the sanctity of human life and is resolutely opposed to abortion as currently practised in England. (See, for example, here and here.) A “gradualist” moral argument such as Melbourne's is nowhere to be found.

Those Anglicans in Melbourne who feel betrayed by our Diocese have expressed our objection in a letter that has been signed by over 600 people. We can only hope and earnestly pray that our Lord, who himself entered into the womb of Mary to bring life to the dead, will urgently bring the Diocese to repentance.

Martin Luther and Jewish people

Despite (or, perhaps, even because) of Martin Luther's greatness, his faults are extreme and more clearly repulsive than most. Some of his words against German peasants and Jews read more like the ravings of a madman than of a theologian in his right mind.

Yet even in one of his most regrettable and offensive pieces of writing, ‘On the Jews and their lies’, what particularly obsesses his mind and stirs his anger is a desire to defend the truth of Scripture, the divinity of Christ, salvation by grace alone, the corruption of human nature, and the doctrine of the Trinity. It is not recommended reading. But any true assessment of Luther, the great re-discoverer of justification by faith alone, needs to acknowledge that, occasionally, many bad and ugly words and ideas crowded Luther's mind when he was writing.

Without looking to excuse him, it has to be said that Luther did not particularly single out Jewish people for attack. As this passage from Table Talk shows, he was quite capable of seeing that Gentiles were worse!

The Jews crucified Christ with words, but the Gentiles have crucified him with works and deeds. His sufferings were prophetical of our wickedness, for Christ suffers still to this day in our church much more than in the synague of the Jews; far greater blaspheming of God, contempt, and tyranny, is now among us than heretofore among the Jews. (Table Talk, ‘Of Jesus Christ’, CCIV)

Even in his most vitriolic and often repulsive writing, as he moves towards his conclusion of ‘On the Jews and their lies’, we see glimpses of a wider dimension of Luther's understanding. He never once denies that God's blessing comes in and through the Jews. So in the final paragraphs, we find him saying “Thus the dear Son of David, Jesus Christ, is also our King and Messiah, and we glory in being his kingdom and people, just as much as David himself and all children of Israel and Abraham.” [emphasis mine]. And just a few sentences later, he writes:

“If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord”; that is, we will also live after death, as we just heard, and as St. Paul preaches in Romans 14:8. We look for no bloodthirsty Kokhba in him, but the true Messiah who can give life and salvation. That is what is meant by a son of David sitting on his throne eternally. The blind Jews and Turks know nothing at all of this. May God have mercy on them as he has had and will have on us. Amen.

Luther's writing exposed simultaneously both the sinfulness of his own soul and the grace, kindness, gentleness and goodness of God who offers mercy “to the Jew first and also to the Greek” (Rom 1:16)— as well as (we may add) the Turk, the Roman Catholic, the admirer or critic of Luther, and Luther himself.