Patternism, Division and Grace

April 19, 2009

Patternism does not entail division as long as it does not subvert grace and it graciously treats another believer with mercy. Rather, it is the attitudes, agendas and acidity of the people involved that generate division. Patternism itself is not to blame and neither is “restorationism’s” search for a pattern. When people are treated with gracious humility, patternism can be a fruitful discussion rather than an occasion of division. This is what Alexander Campbell intended from the beginning (though Campbell himself was not always the most humble of types :-) ).

Ecclesiological Perfectionism Rejected.

Alexander Campbell certainly contended for an “ancient order” within the New Testament which he believed should be restored. Indeed, his good Presbyterian upbringing predisposed him to the idea of “order” and he continued to promote the notion of “church order” throughout his life (see his 1835 Millennial Harbinger Extra on Church Order).

However, as I pointed out in an earlier post, Campbell never intended his “ancient order” to function as the marks of a true church with the result that every other church which did not measure up to the “order” for which he contended was apostate. He explicitly denied that his conception of the “ancient order” should be used as a test of fellowship. He did, however, hope that it would be a platform for unity and strongly argued his case on the points at issue in hopes that others would adopt the “ancient order.”

So, Why the Divide?

That is a complicated and multi-faceted question. My interest in this post is very specific while I recognize the larger sociological, hermeneutical, sectional and theological differences that were involved in the division between Churches of Christ and the Disciples of Christ symbolically recognized in 1906 by the United States religious census.

I want to narrow my concern to David Lipscomb in particular. Reading through Lipscomb’s editorials in the 20th century, I was fascinated that Lipscomb consistently refers to the weaknesses and frailities of human beings in their seeking God. He applies this at many levels, but one application is ecclesiological.

Lipscomb was willing to forebear with congregation after congregation that disagreed with him on the missionary society and instrumental music. He spent most of his life in forebearance. He was one of the last to adopt a separatistic stance toward the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). It was, in many ways, a thirty-plus year trek. He recognized it by 1897, declared it so in 1907, and lamented it for the rest of his life.

At one level, the division was necessary–according to Lipscomb–because some prominent Disciples embraced higher criticism, doubts about the deity of Jesus, etc. (e.g., the seeds and fruits of modernism). This was significant as it evidenced, in Lipscomb’s mind, a different spirit and attitude toward Scripture itself. It was not merely a different understanding of how to apply Scripture but more importantly a denial of Scripture as the word of God.

At another level, the division was necessary–according to Lipscomb–because the “innovations” disrupted the harmony of the church as a whole, split many congregations, and evidenced a lack of love for the minority, usually the weak and powerless, within a congregation. In other words, his problem with the innovators was more basic than the innovation itself. He could bear with the innovation in love–and could even preach in congregations that used it–but he could not bear with the unloving actions of the innovators toward the powerless. The strife they created and how they treated the powerless were more fatal than the innovation itself because it evidenced a spirit of arrogance, power and willfulness.

The situation of the Woodland Street Christian Church is illustrative. Lipscomb and E. G. Sewell planted this congregation and Lipscomb himself paid over $1000 for the bricking of the building in 1876. Sewell preached regularly for the church till 1882 and continued as one of its elders until 1890. By 1887 it was the center of Society activity in Nashville–organizing, convening, governing and hosting the State society convention and then the General Convention from 1889-1892. Lipscomb, Sewell, McQuiddy and others all experienced such boldness as a personal affront. Sometime before 1890 the instrument was introduced into the congregation. By 1899 Lispcomb had named Woodland Street as the most digressive of the churches in Tennessee. In October 1890, Sewell and the McQuiddys pulled out of Woodland and established the Tenth Street church in Nashville. (Some of this story is told in Chris Cotten’s paper delivered at the Disciples of Christ Historical Society in 2008.)

The hurt, strife and utter disbelief that Christians could treat each other in such a way fueled Lipscomb’s loss of patience with the Disciples of Christ (Christian Church). Ultimately, the emotional baggage was as significant as the theological, and the emotional hurt validated the perception that the Disciples of Christ (considered as a whole) acted in selfish, presumptive and unloving ways. Lipscomb had no patience for an arrogant, unloving spirit that abused the powerless. This is the real problem among the Disciples of Christ as he perceived it. As mistakes and failures of interpetation, innovations could be tolerated. But when they became the source of division and revealed the arrogance of the powerful (or majority), then the innovations were symptoms of a deeper problem.

Unlike Leroy Garrett who says that Lipscomb changed his mind about whether innovations should divide (The Stone-Campbell Movement, p. 401), I think it is better to say that Lipscomb came to believe that innovations were used to divide churches and it is this arrogant and power-seeking spirit that generated Lipscomb’s new attidue in the 1890s.

Grace in Sanctification.

Lipscomb had great patience and grace for the weak and struggling as long as they displayed an earnest desire to serve God and be obedient in everything they knew and could. He would even bear with the innovators as long as they were not divisive. One cannot read his editorials toward the close of his life without getting a deep sense of his love for the weak, his patience with their frailities, and his genuine desire to bear with them as they matured and grew in Christ.

Lipscomb often drew extended lessons from Jesus’ relationship with his disciples–both before and after his ministry among them. In the quotation offered below he focused on the experience of Jesus with his disciples at the Last Supper. Hear his call for mercy, patience and humility. It is, in my opinion, a stirring call for mutual forebearance–in this case between Rebaptists and disciples, and between Baptists and disciples (Lipscomb, “Jesus Christ and the Rebaptists,” Gospel Advocate 54 [11 January 1912] 45, 49).

This was a heroic band of worshipers to introduce the Lord’s Supper and the salvation of the world, was it not, especially when the leading one, Peter, is instructed, when he is convertred, to strengthen the rest…This shows the forebearance of Jesus with the sinner in his weakness and infirmity and his disposition to bear with and help the weak and needy. How many Christians now would be willing to bear with and partake of the Supper with a band they believed would be so offended (led into sin) that in a few hours all would forsake Jesus and deny they knew him? Christians ought to study the life and teachings of Jesus and from these learn meekness and forbearance with the tempted and tried. We ought to be meek and gentle as Jesus as. We ought to be longsuffering with the frail and erring and should strive to exercise forebearance and helpfulness toward those who go wrong. Jesus is our Savior and our Redeemer and seeks to help and save the lost.

The sin of Judas was from a lack of moral principle, a true regard for truth and justice. From this sin there seemed to be no recovery….The other disciples were honest and sincere, but failed through fear and the weakness of humanity. They recovered as soon as the threatening danger passed. But the human weakness remained, and Jesus dealt with the decision, but kindness and gentleness, of the Son of God and Savior of men. He drew the declaration of Peter’s love and devotion from him three times, as often as he had denied him, ending with the admonition to teach his brethren when he was converted…..

The example is not very flattering to humanity, but one that very strongly commends to us the love and condescension of God. It invites us to love and humility, condescension and helpfulness, to the poverty and needs of humanity. Let us look with kindness and pity on human mistakes and infirmities and bless and help as we need help and blessing. The forbearing, humble, helpful spirit that leads us to help the weak, forbear with the ignorant, and lend an uplifting and helping hand to every child of mortality is as much a part, and a vital part, of the religion of Jesus as the belief of any proposition or truth connected with that religion. Man is much more intolerant and ready to condemn and repel the children of men from the helps and privileges of gospel truth than God is. Let one take the mental and moral condition of those who partook of the first Supper under the direction of Jesus and compare them with the intelligence and standing of those they reject and repel, and he must feel the inconsistency. Our mission and work is to bury and hide shortcoming and imperfections in faith and life, and, while teaching the will of God as he gave it, to encourage the weakest and most feeble to walk in his ways as he has given it and as far as they understand it. The work of Jesus in the ordination of the Supper is often as much violated and set as naught as the rights of those who believe baptism is for the remission of sins. Let us cherish and walk in the spirit of Christ. Both Baptists and many disciples are sinful in their exclusiveness in religion.

Where Are We Today?

To use the terminology in vogue at Graceconversation.com, “progressives” and “conservatives” need a spirit of love, humility and selflessness in our dialogue at the congregational, institutional and virtual levels.

It seems to me that if we apply the theological notion of “grace in sanctification” toward each other, it would enable us to treat each other out of a disposition of weakness and humility. When we recognize that we are all engaged in the process of sanctification, that we are all imperfect, and that none of us has arrived theologically or ethically, then we can dialogue in a spirit of discovery and mutual understanding rather than condemnation and alienation. When we approach each other within the framework of sanctification, we may further the dialogue by hearing each other in order to learn rather than critique, to understand rather than condemn, and to appreciate rather than ridicule. When we season our words with grace rather than sarcasm we open the door to mutual understanding and mutual appreciation.

It very well may be that God is more concerned about how we dialogue and treat each other than he is with exactly where we differ. I do think God is concerned about both, but how we relate to others is what will image or fall short of God’s own relating to us with mercy and grace. Jesus’ patience with his own imperfect disciples and his anger toward the arrogant should give us all pause in our discussions. Whom are we more like? Humble disciples or arrogant religionists?

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” Matthew 5:7

“Mercy triumphs over judgment.” James 2:13b

“To the merciful you show yourself merciful.” Psalm 18:25

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

When Patternism Subverts Grace

April 17, 2009

If the life and ministry of Jesus is our pattern, then we all fall woefully short.

Consequently, whether it is conforming our character to the image of Jesus or embodying the ministry of Jesus through the church, we all–individuals and congregations–need divine mercy since we all fall woefully short of the image of God in Jesus.

While I am a patternist, I am not a perfectionist in either ethics or ecclesiology. Not all patternists are perfectionists (or legalists). Patternism per se neither entails legalism nor perfectionism. If it does, then everyone who believes that we are called to conform to the image (pattern) of Jesus is either a legalist or a perfectionist or both.

Legalism arises when the quantity, level and progress of sanctifiction is made a condition of communion with God.  Libertinism (or antinomianism) appears when sanctification is so disconnected from faith (seeking and trusting God) that whether we seek sanctification or not is inconsequential.

Ecclesiological perfectionism is when the understanding and practice of a set of ecclesiological patterns are made conditions of communion with God such that without perfect or precise compliance to those patterns (however they are defined) there is no hope or promise of salvation. 

In contrast I would suggest that perfect or precise compliance to ecclesiological patternism–like ethical conformation to the pattern of the life of Jesus–is not a condition of communion. Rather it is a matter of sanctification as we are conformed more closely to the image of Christ, both corporately and individually. To more closely conform to an ecclesiological pattern (however that is concieved or defined) is a matter of communal sanctification. It is a process, not an event. As a process, sanctification will never be perfect or 100%.

At the same time such conformation is something that faith seeks because we want to be like Jesus. When we refuse to conform to what we know that is rebellion. Insubmissive (rebellious) faith is not faith since faith involves trusting in Jesus and submissively pursuing God’s will in our life however imperfectly we may do that.

Ecclesiological patternism subverts grace when perfect obedience to a set of patterns for the church becomes a test of fellowship or a condition of communion with God. Ecclesiological patternism then becomes ecclesiological perfectionism. I define “perfect obedience” as precisely meeting a set of criteria for ecclesiological practice which distinguish between the “faithful” and the “unfaithful” (thus “apostate” which amounts to a “different religion” [see Jay Guin's assessment of Greg Tidwell's use of this language]).  In this context our faithfulness, rather than the faithfulness of Jesus, counts as our righteousness and salvation; it demands perfect obedience in order to measure up to the standard–we keep the pattern or there is no hope! This kind of ecclesiological patternism stresses that if we are guilty in one point, we are guilty of the whole. If a congregation is missing one mark of a true church, then it is a false church. This is ecclesiological perfectionism.

So, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria include observing the Lord’s Supper every Sunday and only on Sunday, then “perfect obedience” would mean that only those who eat every Sunday and only on Sunday are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

Or, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria include singing a cappella, then “perfect obedience” would mean that only those who sang a cappella are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

Or, for example, if the ecclesiological criteria included the absence of the female voice except in singing, then “perfect obedience” would mean only those assemblies where women were silent are faithful and everyone else is unfaithful (apostate).

I would suggest–without debating the merits of the examples above as parts of a biblical pattern–that ecclesiological patternism belongs in the category of communal sanctification. It is a process of growth, maturation and progressive conformation to the image of God in Christ.  Consequently, it is not so much about who is faithful and unfaithful (that is, who complied with the precise conditions of the pattern and who did not) but about orientation, direction and the submissive nature of their faith and heart. Faithfulness and unfaithfulness is more about faith itself than the accumulaton of specific acts of obedience or failure.

Moreover, I would suggest that there are more important questions in ecclesiological patternism than the frequency of the Lord’s Supper or the nature of music in the public assembly.  If ecclesiological patternism means engaging a process of conformation to the image of Christ, then here are few more important dimensions of the “pattern” than frequency and music style. Such as:

  • relationship with the poor (the pursuit of mercy)
  • the communal use of funds for ministry
  • advocacy for the oppressed, marginalized and excluded (the pursuit of justice)
  • leadership models within the community of faith
  • relationship with enemies
  • opposition to suffocating traditionalism that hinders the kingdom of God
  • outreach to the sheep without a shepherd or the lost

What I know is that I fall woefully short of these Christological patterns in my own life and in my community. I cannot soothe my imperfections by noting how well or precisely I comply with other dimensions of the pattern (e.g., Lord’s Supper and singing). However, by grace through faith, God is working with and in me to transform me into Christ’s image.  I am in process and I am not perfect.  I am neither perfectly obedient nor do I obey perfectly.  On the contrary, I submit my will to the process of God’s sanctifying work through faith and God redeems me by his grace through faith.

Patternism subverts the grace of God when it makes conformation to the pattern (however defined) as a condition of communion rather than as the fruit of God’s sanctifying work among his people through faith. Grace through faith is the means by which we commune with God and our conformation to the pattern of God in Jesus through the power of God’s Spirit is the means by which we become more and more like him. We are saved by grace through faith and works (sanctification) is the fruit of that communion with God.

I do not offer this post as definitive or indubitable.  Rather, it is only my thinking at this moment. It is part of my own sanctification as I reflect on the situation of fellowship within Churches of Christ.  I have hopes that the “Grace Conversation” website may yet be productive of mutual understanding. My next post will include a few historical reflections of where we are now as opposed to where we were 100 years ago in relation to ecclesiological perfectionism.

[I first offered some of this kind of soteriological reflection in my 1992 "Grace, Works and Assurance: A Theological Framework.]

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Old JMH Articles: Five From the 1970s

March 13, 2009

This is quite daring, I must admit. Or, it might be rather idiotic. But in my quest to place my published writings on this webpage, I now turn to the 1970s. 

It is rather chilling and sometimes quite illuminating to actually read what I wrote thirty years ago (wow! I really am that old). It is chilling because I find myself cringing at my wording, sometimes my views and often at my insensitivity. It is illuminating because I see my own development and I also see the first inklings or seeds of thought that will develop with time. 

I submitted articles to a wide variety of papers in the 1970s.  Three are represented below and I will share others with you as I digitize them.  Once I have completed the task, I will take some time to reflect on my early rush to print and use myself as a case study on theological development. When the below articles were written I was 20-22 years old (my birthday is July 15, 1957).  Consequently, I will give myself a break for my weaknesses, immaturity and mistakes (including bad grammar….but that one has not changed much).

“Are We Born Sinners?,” Firm Foundation 95.10 (7 March 1978) 150, 155.

This article originated from an independent study with Rubel Shelly at Freed-Hardeman University on Calvinism. Since I was planning to attend a Calvinist seminary in the Fall of 1977, I wanted to study it and Rubel accomodated me.  This piece reflects the debater mentality I had at the time as I formulated my arguments in syllogistic form. But the major problem with the article is that I keep talking about “total depravity” when really my article is about “original guilt,” that is, are we born guilty of Adam’s sin.  I still reject original guilt, but I am unfair here with my use of the phrase “total depravity” and it is a superficial understanding of it.  I still like the argument from Ezekiel 18, however, and the distinction between “bear the sins of another” as a matter of consequence rather than guilt–sometimes it refers to consequences, sometimes it refers to guilt, and sometimes it refers to both.  It depends on the context.

“Creational Law,” Bible Herald 26.18 (1 September 1978) 283.

This article was a byproduct of my book with Bruce L. Morton entitled Woman’s Role in the Church (1978, noted in the article).  It was my attempt at recognizing a creational ethic–an ethic rooted in creation.  The article roots the permanency of marriage, male spiritual leadership and heterosexuality in creation.  Unfortunately, this is an article where my insensitivity and dogmatism shine brightly.  For example, instead of writing about male spiritual leadership I write about “female subordination” (I cringe even now as I type those two words together).  The article is, of course, much too simplistic. Yet, at the same time, I continue to believe there is such a thing as a creational ethic and such an ethic is normative as reflective of God’s intent for human beings to live as his imagers. 

“The Authority of Paul: Its Authenticity,” Firm Foundation 95.43 (24 October 24 1978) 676, 682.

This article arose out of discussions with some people close to me who tended to dismiss Paul, and it also was a byproduct of my contributions to book on the role of women.  I focus on the apostolic authority of Paul and the binding nature of his writings.  Here again I am much too simplistic. While I would still, of course, recognize Paul’s authority as an apostle and recognize that he exercises that authority through writing as well as word, the article has little or no sensititivity to the occasional and cultural horizon’s of Paul’s writings.  My use of 2 Corinthians 10-13 in this article, however, is a seed for my more developed understanding of Paul’s self-understanding as a prophet of the new covenant analogous to Jeremiah’s function as a prophet.

 ”Unto You Young Men: Treatise on Tongues,” World Evangelist 7.6 (1 January 1979) 17.

This article is a byproduct of my first book A Teenager Speaks on Spiritual Gifts (1977) which was written when I was 14-15 years old and published by Ira Y. Rice, Jr. Basil Overton, who was a good friend of my father’s, invited me to contribute something for the column “Unto You Young Men.”  So, I adapted something from the book. I argue–in good debating style once again–that the tongue speakers in Corinth understood their own speech. It was not “unknown” to them; they understood what they were praying and were edified by it.  Consequently, when contemporary tongue speakers claim they can neither understand nor control what they are saying, they betray the reality that they do not themselves have the same gift that the Corinthians had. Whether the argument remains effective, I will leave for you to decide.  On another day I will comment on my own development on this point which is not necessarily a denial of the claim that I am making in the article itself.  However, my insensitivity to those who experience tongue-speaking as edifying in their own lives is all too evident in the article.

“Baptism as Putting on Christ,” Firm Foundation 96.37 (11 September 1979) 582.

This article is a brief summary of a research paper I completed under Dr. Moises Silva at Westminster Theological Seminary when I took his course on Galatians (the second week of the class we had an exam to test our translation of Galatians!). It was a great class, and I–as a good Stone-Campbell traditionalist and polemicist–wrote my paper on Galatians 3:26-27.  :-)   It was a kind of “turning-point” paper for me because it opened some theological doors for me.  I began to see baptism as about more than the “remission of sins.” Rather, it participates in the instrumentality of faith for justification and sanctification.  “Putting on Christ” is a metaphor for both forensic and ethical aspects of salvation.  When I digitized this piece for presentation here, I was surprised to see how strongly I stressed the imputation of righteousness and how I had already adopted the Reformed language of “means” for baptismal theology (see my last paragraph).

Over the next few weeks I will be working on completing my “published”  articles for the website.  I have several more in the 1970s and 1980s, and then I hope to soon complete formatting my dissertation so that I might offer it here as well.

Whether this is of any benefit or not only you can judge for yourself.   Blessings, JMH

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

Patterns, Perfectionism, Grace and the Tennessee Tradition

February 14, 2009

If the life and ministry of Jesus is our pattern, then we all fall woefully short in every way.

Moral Patternism. We rarely have a difficult time hearing that we are imperfect in terms of morality since we are well aware that we fail to image the character of Jesus in so  many ways–internally and externally. We all recognize the need for divine mercy.

David Lipscomb recognized that moral imperfection is covered by the righteousness of Christ, that is, the gracious provision of God’s faithulness in Jesus. Commenting on Philippians 3, he wrote (pp. 205-206):

Even when a man’s heart is purified by faith, and his affections all reach out towards God and seek conformity to the life of God it is imperfect. His practice of the righteousness of God falls far short of the divine standard. The flesh is weak, and the law of sin reigns in our members; so that we fall short of the perfect standard of righteousness; but if we trust God implicitly and faithfully endeavor to do his will, he knows our frame, knows our weaknesses, and as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities our infirmities and weaknesses, and imputes to us the righteousness of Christ. So Jesus stands as our justification and our righteousness, and our life is hid with Christ in God.

Recognizing our sinfulness and infirmity, God graciously “imputes to us the righteouenss of Christ” as “we trust God implicitly and faithfully endeavor to do his will.” The gracious love of God covers our sins and weakness as we “trust God” and “endeavor” to obey him. I think that is pretty significant. It is not that we actually do obey him in every thing or most things, but that we trust him and seek to obey him. We trust and obey but recognize that our trust is often weak and our obedience is always imperfect.

Similarily, in spite of his daily desire to be holy, James A. Harding believed that “perhaps hourly, and sometimes many times in an hour, in some of these ways I sin.” Harding had no illusions of moral perfectionism. But this did not undermine his assurance since he recognized that his weaknesses were covered by the grace of Jesus Christ. He wrote (1883, 442):

Now, under Judaism the principle which obtained was, ‘Do and live.’ As no man could do right, no man could find life. Under Christianity no man can do right anymore than he could under Judaism. The commandments of the decalogue, except the fourth, are just as binding as ever. Who, after reading the sermon on the mount, can imagine that the standard of right is in any wise lowered? But by the death of Christ a provision was made for our weaknesses and imperfections which did not exist under the law. The Christian has precisely the same sort of struggle as did the faithful Jew in trying to do the will of God….but in Christ there is no condemnation; in him all these shortcomings are overlooked; in him our sins are blotted out…The Christian remains in Christ just as long as he “wills to do his will;” as long as he strives earnestly and prayerfully against the world, the flesh, and the devil.

This language is common in Harding. Our works do not save us, but God saves us through faith in Christ.  It is a faith that “wills to do his will” even though we imperfectly do his will.  It is a faith that “strives earnestly and prayerfully” even though we often fail. When it comes to moral imperfections, God graciously and mercifully forgives our ignorance and weaknesses for the sake of Christ. If we are in Christ, “whether [we sin] in ignorance, weakness or willfulness,” God “holds nothing against us” (1903, p. 401).

Moral patternism did not entail perfectionism, according to Lipscomb and Harding. We are all far from perfect–our ignorance, our weaknesses, even our willfulness, means that God’s mercy would have to overlook our shortcomings for the sake of Christ if any of us would ever have any assurance of salvation.  And, according to Lipscomb and Harding, he does this as long as a faith that trusts God and seeks him remains even when that trusting and seeking is imperfect.

Positive Patternism. But Lipscomb and Harding sing a different tune when it comes to the positive laws that govern ecclesiology (and this is genernally true of  Churches of Christ as a whole in the first half of the 20th century). [On the distinction between moral and positive law in the Stone-Campbell hermeneutics, see an earlier post of mine.]

Here perfectionism–in some form–is expected and functions as a test of fellowship between believers. If a fellow believer is not perfect in his positive obedience to the positive laws of the New Testament, then the faithful must separate from him. For example, as it has been subsequently applied by many, if a congregation does not observe the Lord’s Supper every Sunday, then they rebel against the positive law of the New Testament (taught by example in Acts 20:7) and it thereby becomes apostate.

While debating the Baptist Moody in 1889 Nashville on the design of baptism, Harding introduced the distinction between moral and positive law (baptism is the latter). His characterization of the distinction and its significance is illuminating (256-257, emphasis mine):

While the positive law is not right in the nature of things (in so far as mortals can see), but it is right because it is commanded. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper under the new covenant, and the ceremonial law of the Jews under the old covenant, are illustrations of positive law…Positive law differs from moral law in that it can be obeyed perfectly. Positive law is therefore a more perfect test of faith and love, a more perfect test of allegiance to God, than moral law…For these two reasons, doubtless, God has ever been more ready to overlook the infractions of moral, than of positive law; and for the same reasons the positive is peculiarly adapted to the expression and the perfection of faith. I would not have you suppose that I think God would for a moment tolerate a willful violation of moral law. No, no; I simply mean that God, who knows so well our inherited weakness, is patient and gentle with us in our imperfect obedience to this law, and in our many backslidings from it. But positive law we can obey perfectly, and he is strict and stern in demanding that we shall do it.

The application is apparent. God is gracious toward our moral failings because he understands our weaknesses and our inability to obey moral law perfectly. He understands our sanctification will be slow and progressive due to our weaknesses. However, God is stern and unyielding in his insistence on obedience to positive law because we can obey it perfectly. Positive law has such clarity that there is no misunderstanding it. One can be immersed—the command must be obeyed as stated.

This explains why God can act with such grace and forgiveness toward the moral failings of David, but at the same time remove Saul from his kingship for positive disobedience and instantly kill Uzzah. Saul and Uzzah “violated a positive law.” God can bear with the moral failings of his people because of their weaknesses, but God will not tolerate the violation of his explicit positive laws. Old Testament examples testify to God’s sternness. The Old Testament teaches the church to respect the sanctity of positive law.

Positive patternism entails some sort of perfectionism.  Ignorance, weakness, and certainly willfulness, was no excuse and no divine mercy is promised. Positive disobedience, whether out of ignorance, weakness or willfulness, is disloyalty and rebellion. Even if a faith was present that trusted God and sought to obey him according to what was known, it was not enough. Postive disobedience meant that faith was insufficient because their obedience was not perfect enough; their faith could not save them because of their positive infractions or imperfections.

Contrasted.  While the mercy of God for Christ’s sake was sufficient to forgive moral sin through a faith that trusted God and sought to do his will however imperfectly, the mercy of God for Christ’s sake is not sufficient to forgive positive sin through a faith that trusts God and seeks to do his will because that faith did not obey the positive law perfectly. Therefore, perfect positive obedience is necessary for salvation whereas perfect moral obedience is not. The grace of God covers moral imperfections but it does not cover positive imperfections.  

This fundamentally proposes, it seems to me, a God who values sacrifice more than mercy. 

Why are not the positive imperfections covered by the faithfulness of Christ for those who “trust” God and seek to do his will just like the moral imperfections? Are we not are saved by grace through faith rather than by faith through perfect positive obedience to a graciously lowered standard?

May God have mercy.

P.S. For those interested in a fuller discussion of the moral/positive distinction, see my article on Harding’s use of this distinction.  For those interested in a fuller discussion of grace through faith, see my presentation at Harding University Graduate School of Religion.

References

David Lipscomb, Ephesians, Philippians and Colossians, A Commentary on the New Testament Epistles, 4, edited, with additional notes by J. W. Shepherd (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1957).

J. B. Moody and James A. Harding, Debate on Baptism and the Work of the Holy Spirit (Nashville: Gospel Advocate, 1955 reprint).

James A. Harding, “Scraps,” The Way 4 (26 February 1903) 401.

James A. Harding, “What I Would Not, That I Do,” Gospel Advocate 25 (11 July 1883) 442.

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Posted by John Mark Hicks

I am a Patternist; Yes, Really!

February 12, 2009

Jesus is the logos (word) of God; he is our pattern, the speech of God. His life is the word of God. He embodies all that God desires.

Disciples of Jesus follow Jesus. They follow him into the water, and are thereby baptized. They follow him into the wilderness, and thus seek solitude with God in the midst of their trials. They follow him into intimacy with other disciples, and thus they seek honest relationships with other believers. They follow him to the table, and thus experience relationship with others and commune with God. They follow him into the world as missional people, and thus are heralds and practitioners of the good news. They follow him into the assemblies of God’s people to praise God, and thus they gather as a community to celebrate the good news of the kingdom. They follow him in pursuing mercy and justice, and thus seek to embody a righteousness that declares that the kingdom of God has arrived. Disciples of Jesus do not follow the church, they follow Jesus and thus become the church–the outpost of the kingdom of God in this broken world.

Patternists are generally concerned about “authority.”  I suggest that what Jesus does is our authority. His actions, teachings and practices authorize as they model how God incarnates himself as the presence of the kingdom of God in the world. We follow Jesus to become kingdom people. We are called to be Jesus in the world for the sake of the world.
 
The Gospels provide the pattern, that is, the ministry and life of Jesus. Acts illustrates how the early church lived out that pattern. The epistles interpret and apply the meaning of the good news of the kingdom for believers living in community. The Hebrew Scriptures give us the lens to read the story of God in Jesus within the frame of God’s story among his people and see the depth of Jesus’ life and teaching.

For example–and issues that are often the focus of patternistic discussions, we are baptized because Jesus was baptized; we eat and drink at the table of the Lord because Jesus did. We discern the meaning of baptism and the Lord’s Supper thorugh the lens of God’s relationship with Israel, what it meant for Jesus within his own ministry, and how it was continued and interpreted in early Christian communities (Acts and Epistles). This is the approach I (along with my co-authors) utilized in my books on table, baptism and assembly.

The pattern for the church is not the historical descriptions in Acts, but the incarnation of God in the person of Jesus. The pattern for the church is the ministry of Jesus. What Jesus began to do and teach, the early church continued.

Some patternists divorce the church from the ministry of Jesus and seek their patterns solely in Acts and the Epistles. Indeed, this was Alexander Campbell’s patternism. But to say that the pattern for the church of Christ cannot be located in Christ’s ministry seems counter-intuitive to me. It is like saying that the church can’t be like Jesus or that Jesus is not the model for the church. How can that be? The church is the body of Christ!

Simply speaking, I would suggest that the pattern for the kingdom of God is anticipated in Israel, fulfilled in the ministry of Jesus, continued (applied and interpreted) by the early church, and brought to fullness (completion) in the new heaven and new earth. For a more detail explanation of this approach, interested persons can read my series on “Theological Hermeneutics” and the series entitled “It Ain’t That Complicated“.

The pattern for the kingdom of God lies on the surface of the story of God–it is the narrative of Jesus’ ministry in a broken world.  But that narrative is rooted in the theology and redemptive history of God’s story among his people–first in Israel, climaxed in Jesus, and practiced by the early church.  Rather than constructing patterns through stringing together isolated texts, I suggest we live out the pattern which is given to us in the narrative of Jesus’ own life.

19 Comments | Hermeneutics, Stone-Campbell, Theology | Tagged: , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by John Mark Hicks

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