Pulpit Magazine: Did tongues Cease or Not? Part 2

Here is the second part continued from last time. Click here for the whole thing. Reminder: If you click the link you will need to scroll down about 19 pages {No, this isn't 19 pages}]

A CLOSER LOOK AT CONTINUATIONIST CLAIMS 
Furthermore, it seems to me that the continuationist position is both logically and
exegetically indefensible. The distinctive claim of contemporary charismatic and Pentecostal
teaching is that all the charismata are available today just as they were in apostolic times. In
particular, continuationists teach that he miraculous and revelatory gifts seen in the very early
church never ceased. Supposedly, everything the Holy Spirit was doing throughout the book of
Acts and 1 Corinthians 12-14 should still be happening today. That's the inevitable implication of
true, consistent continuationism.

The problem is that virtually no one really believes that. Consistent continuationists are not
only extremely rare; they are also exceedingly dangerous—often claiming apostolic authority for
themselves and usually acting as if they believed the most vital and authoritative revelation
available to the church today is to be found not in Scripture, but in their own dreams and
prophecies about the latest "move of God."

It is a clear and indisputable implication of Scripture that the miraculous gifts of the
apostolic era had a specific and clearly defined purpose. It is likewise clear from Scripture that
apostolic miracles did diminish in both frequency and importance, and they faded from use after
the era described in the book of Acts.

In the earliest days of the church, Peter and John healed a man who had been lame since
birth (Acts 3:2-8). Even Peter's shadow had healing power(Acts 5:15-16). When the gospel first
came to Ephesus, the sick could be healed and demonized people liberated by contact with pieces
of fabric that Paul had touched (Acts 19:12).

But at the end of his ministry, Paul left Trophimus sick at Miletus (2 Timothy 4:20), and he
counseled Timothy to drink wine medicinally for "frequent ailments" (1 Timothy 5:23). That, by the
way, was years before the New Testament canon was complete. Moreover, the decline of miracle
gifts was fully to be expected based on what Scripture does say about miracles. Miracles validated
the apostles' authority and confirmed their testimony "at the first" (Hebrews 2:3-4). They were not
permanently normative, even in the apostolic era. They were an essential corroboration of the
preached message in that transitional era between the covenants.
There is no question that many important things were in flux during the transition from the
Old Covenant era to the New. The whole point of the book of Hebrews is that the ceremonial law
of the Old Testament is no longer binding on believers in the New Testament era. The priesthood,
and the Tabernacle, and the whole sacrificial system are no longer part of God's relationship with
His people.
Why? Because those things all pointed to something better.And now that the better thing
has come, the inferior things are done away with. (That is the very same point the apostle Paul
makes in 1 Corinthians 14, where he deals with the gift of tongues.) It is the very principle that
makes some degree of cessationism a necessity for people who take the Bible seriously.

LOOKING FOR A PROOF-TEXT?
Charismatics and continuationists will inevitably return to the main point they think settles
the issue: there is no passage or proof-text that tells us the miracle-gifts would cease at the end of
the apostolic era. Furthermore, continuationists believe they do have proof-texts for their position.
Hebrews 13:5: "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." There's also John 14:12,
where Jesus says, "Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do
also; and greater works than these he will do." But consider what those verses actually teach. Hebrews 13:8 says nothing about the apostolic gifts. It's about the immutability of Christ's character.

In fact, the problem with the Hebrews 13:8 argument is that it proves too much. If that
verse proves that everything in the book of Acts should be happening "forever," what about
"yesterday"? Does the verse also suggest that these things must have been happening throughout
redemptive history? Weremiracles commonplace throughout the Old Testament? For that matter,
did anyone ever repeat the miracles Moses performed? If the principle of Hebrews 13:8 proves
continuationism, why are miracles relatively rare not only in the Old Testament, but also in the
later narrative passages of the New Testament?

After Moses, we see multiple miracles from Joshua, Elijah, and Elisha. Scripture also
describes a handful of isolated miracles involving some of the Judges and prophets. But miracles
were by no means commonplace—nor were they a reliable gauge of whether God is working or
not. God is alwaysworking providentially, but miracle-gifts are extremely rare.

Consider John the Baptist. In Matthew 11:11, Jesus said: "Truly, I say to you, among those
born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist." If miracle-working ability
were a valid measure of one's greatness and power, we might expect someone like John the
Baptist to be an amazing miracle worker. After all, according to Luke 1:17, John was sent to
prepare the way for Jesus "in the spirit and power of Elijah." Elijah, of course, did many miracles.
Miracles were practically the emblem of his ministry. But John 10:41 says "John did no miracle."
What happens to the typical charismatic application of Hebrews 13:8 in light of John the Baptist's
ministry?

For that matter, what about John 14:12? When charismatics cite that verse, it's fair to ask:
Is there any miracle-worker in the entire charismatic realm who has ever actually performed
greater signs and wondersthan Jesus did? The answer, definitively, is no. But that's not the
promise of John 14:12 anyway. The text promises "greater works," not more spectacular signs. The
apostles' work of preaching the gospel exceeded Jesus' ministry in immediate scope—not in power
or perfection. They "turned the world upside down" (Acts 17:6).

As a cessationist, I'm willing to concede that there is no easy proof-text that furnishes a
ready explanation in a single, explicit biblical statement about when and how the apostolic
outpouring of miracles ceased. But I don't find that argument particularly persuasive. It's not really
different from the argument of the Jehovah's Witness who points out that there's not a single
proof-text that proves the doctrine of the Trinity. What is the appropriate answer to that? The
doctrine of the Trinity is the fruit of comparing Scripture with Scripture and understanding
everything the Bible teaches about the Godhead.

The same principle applies to cessationism.

Cessationists base their conviction not on a single proof text or exegetical argument. It is a
theological conclusion drawn from a number of biblical arguments, borne out by the plain facts of
history.

Again, Scripture does teach that the charismata had a specific, foundational, temporary
purpose. They are part of a hierarchy of supernatural signs and wonders associated with the
founding of the church. That hierarchy is clearly outlined in 1 Corinthians 12:28-30, and the text
expressly states that the miraculous gifts are not given universally to everyone in the church:
God has appointed in the church, first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then
miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, administrations, various kinds of tongues. All are not apostles, are they?

All are not prophets, are they? All are not teachers, are they? All are
not workers of miracles, are they? All do not have gifts of healings, do they? All do not
speak with tongues, do they? All do not interpret, do they?

Not every church leader is an apostle. By that very same principle, gifts of tongues and miracles
were never intended for every believer.

Nowhere in Scripture are we taught that the life of every Christian is supposed to be one
long string of miracles. "Signs and wonders and mighty works" are expressly called "the signs of a
true apostle" in 2 Corinthians 12:12. The miraculous elements that were so common in the early
apostolic church were given to validate and authenticate the apostles' authority.Apostles were
instruments of divine revelation. The miracles were undeniable verification thatthese men who
claimed to be speaking for God were indeed speaking the truth of God with God's authorization. In
the words of Hebrews 2:4, "God [was bearing them] witness by signs and wonders and various
miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will."

YOU'RE PROBABLY A CESSATIONIST,TOO
Regardless of your views about the charismatic gifts—unless you are someone who is far
out on the fringe of charismatic lunacy—you probably believe the apostolic office ended with the
death of the apostle John. Here's the thing: There is no proof text for that.

Can we agree also with the historic Protestant conviction that the canon of Scripture is
complete and closed? New, inspired, inerrant, authoritative Scripture is not being written today.
But there is no easy, irrefutable proof text for that, either.

The biblical and historical rationale all Protestants use to justify our belief that the canon is
closed is the very same biblical and theological logic that persuades me the miraculous gifts served
their purpose in the apostolic generation and no longer function in the church.

I'll go further: I think in their hearts, even the best charismatics believe that more than they
might wish to admit.No one but the rankest crackpot charlatan (or a pope) would ever claim to be
a pure and complete open-canon non-cessationist with infallible apostolic authority. Consider this
carefully: charismatics who acknowledge that the canon is closed and the gift of apostleship has
ceased have already conceded the very heart of the cessationist argument, proof text or no.

That's not all. Continuationists who genuinely seek to be biblical cannot possibly defend
the assertion that all the charismatic gifts are functioning today in exactly the same way they did in
the book of Acts. And even though many will loudly claim otherwise, they have not shown any
willingness to put that claim to the test. I became a Christian 40 years ago in Tulsa, a thriving
center of charismatic activity. For decades I have been challengingmy charismatic friends to
document a single verifiable, authenticated, apostolic-quality miracle-gift. (For example: identify
someone who has the ability regularly and reliably to command healings, the way Peter and Paul
did.) I have yet to meet a charismatic miracle-worker who is willing to subject his
miracle-gift-claims to any kind of careful, biblical scrutiny.

Think about this: millions of people claim to be speaking in tongues, but there is not a
single well-attested, tape-recorded, verifiable case of a recognizable, translatable, identifiable
language such as we see at Pentecost. Has any charismatic preacher truly raised a Eutychus from
the dead? With the 20th century's proliferation of charismatic faith-healers, why do the healings
nearly always involve invisible ailments? Why are people with congenital disabilities, complete
blindness, and other permanent infirmities routinely screened from the healing lines?

Wayne Grudem has more or less conceded that the charismatic phenomena of today are
not really apostolic-quality spiritual gifts. His book The Gift of Prophecy in the New Testament and
Today (Wheaton: Crossway, 1988) was written to defend the practice of seeking personal
prophecies directly from God. A hundred pages or so into the book, Grudemmakes the startling
claim that "no responsible charismatic holds" the view that prophecy today is infallible and
inerrant revelation from God.4

He says charismatics are arguing for a "lesser kind of prophecy,"5
which is not on the same level as the inspired prophecies of the Old Testament prophets or the
New Testament apostles—and which will probably be fallible more often than not.
Grudem writes, “there is almost uniform testimony from all sections of the charismatic
movement that [today's] prophecy is impure, and will contain elements which are not to be
obeyed or trusted.”

In Surprised by the Power of the Holy Spirit(Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1993), Jack Deere
likewise admits that he has not seen anyone today performing miracles or possessing gifts of the
same quality as those that were being manifest in the apostolic era. Deere argues throughout his
book that modern charismatics do not really claim to have apostolic-quality gifts and miracle
abilities. One of Deere's main lines of defense against critics of the charismatic movement is his
claim that modern charismatic gifts are actually lesser gifts than those available in the apostolic
era, and therefore, he suggests, today’s charismatics should not be held to apostolic standards.

Consider the implications of that claim: The chief apologists for charismatic theology have,
in effect, conceded the entire cessationist argument. They have virtually admitted that they are
themselves cessationists of sorts. They are in effect confessing that the true apostolic gifts and
miracles have ceased, admitting that what they are doing today is not what is described in the
New Testament.

Contemporary tongues-speakers do not speak in understandable or translatable dialects,
the way the apostles and their followers did at Pentecost. Not one tongues speaker has ever gone
to a foreign mission-field and miraculously been able to preach the gospel in the tongue of his
hearers. Charismatics have to go to language school like everyone else.

No modern worker of signs and wonders can really duplicate apostolic power.

Even the most vocal advocates of the gift of prophecy admit that no modern prophet can
legitimately claim to have infallible authority.

No modern faith healer can actually produce instant, visible healings that are like the
healings we see in the New Testament. Though some make fantastic claims, no modern faith
healer is opening the eyes of people born blind, and no one is able to make truly lame people
walk.

Above all, despite many fanciful and unsubstantiated legends that have been circulated,
despite the vast numbers of charismatics who claim the ability to do even greater works than Jesus
Himself, there is not one credible, verifiable case of a charismatic miracle-worker who can raise
the dead.
4
Grudem, p. 111.
5
Ibid, p. 112.

The simple fact is that the gifts that operate in the charismatic movement today are not
the same gifts described in the New Testament, and even most charismatics are ultimately forced
to admit that.

It’s time for Reformed continuationists to face these facts humbly honestly. Instead of
stifling debate about charismatic doctrine in the name of charity and unity, we ought to be
pursuing the debate with greater vigor, “until we all attain to the unity of the faith” (Ephesians
4:13).

Pulpit Magazine: Did Tongues Cease or Not? Part 1

Here, Phil Johnson, deals with the cessation of tongues as a spiritual gift and he compares it to the way tongues seemed to be used Biblically and the way they are used by some today. He also suggests, rightly I think, that even many who 'practice' tongues, are cessationists in a significant way. [If you click the link, you will have to scroll down to page 19 of the PDF.]

Did Tongues Cease or Not?
By Phil Johnson

Time to face honestly the reality that contemporary charismata aren't anything like the
original Pentecostal miracles. Let's not be too quick to write off cessationism.
It is an irrefutable fact of history that the supernatural phenomena described in Acts 2 were
peculiar to that one day of Pentecost and have not been normative in the life of the church over
the centuries.

Several visible and audible supernatural features occurred when the Holy Spirit was sent to
empower the church at Pentecost. In all of Scripture and church history none of those miracles has
ever been credibly documented in any other incident. There was a "noise like a violent rushing
wind" (Acts 2:2); visible "tongues as of fire" that rested on the apostles (v. 3); and crowds of
thousands, all simultaneously hearing understandable, inspired revelation in their own languages
as the Spirit gave utterance (vv. 4-11).

In other words, the spoken "tongues" at Pentecost were known, translatable, human
languages. (Verses 9-11 list by name ten distinct language groups that were heard.) The human
instruments through whom the miracle occurred evidently included not only the apostles but
more than a hundred of their cohorts as well (cf. Acts 1:15). All of them spoke in tongues at once—
unscripted, unrehearsed, and totally unexpected. There simply is no parallel for what occurred on
that singular day. It was the inaugural day of the New Testament church. It was unique by God's
own design.

TONGUES AFTER PENTECOST
In all the narrative portions of the New Testament there are only two verses outside Acts 2
where speaking in tongues is even mentioned: Acts 10:46 and 19:6. Both texts record significant
transitional events in the establishment of the New Testament church.

Acts 10 describes the conversion of Cornelius and his household—the first graphic proof
that the middle wall of partition between the Jewish nation and the rest of the world had been
broken down. Tongues on that occasion furnished undeniable proof that the Spirit of God would
henceforth indwell Gentile believers exactly as He indwelt those original disciples in Jerusalem.

The Acts 19 incident symbolically marks the completion of the transition from Old
Covenant to New. With that transition came a new, unprecedented relationship with the Holy
Spirit, who would henceforth permanently indwell every believer. These disciples of John the
Baptist were Old Covenant saints—men who had come to saving faith and then evidently left the
region before Jesus announced the gospel and His ministry began to eclipse John the Baptist's.
Once John's disciples heard and believed the full truth about Jesus, they were immediately
brought into the New Covenant relationship. Tongues were the proof that they had received the
Spirit just like the disciples at Pentecost.

Other than Pentecost and those two subsequent transitional incidents, the only place in
the New Testament where speaking in tongues is mentioned is in Paul's first epistle to the
Corinthians. His main reason for dealing with the subject in that context was to correct those in
Corinth who had elevated tongues to a position of undue prominence. Notice: Paul ranked
tongues as the least of all spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 12:28). He expressly denied that jabbering noises devoid of discernible meaning were a legitimate expression of the Holy Spirit's gift of
tongues (14:10). On the contrary, he stressed that authentic tongues were a form of divine
revelation. (That's precisely what Acts 2:4 means: "as the Spirit was giving them utterance.") Paul
therefore forbade speaking in tongues unless the message could be translated and its meaning
confirmed (1 Corinthians 14:27-28).

None of those principles is given proper consideration by contemporary charismatics.
Indeed, the so-called charismatic phenomena that abound today don't really look anything like the
supernatural manifestations that occurred at Pentecost.
There is every biblical, historical, and theological reason to conclude that the gift of
tongues has ceased. That goes for all other forms of revelatory prophecy that were common in the
apostolic era.

CESSATIONISM
Prior to the 20th century it would have been hard to find any Protestant who believed the
gift of tongues (or any of the revelatory gifts) continued uninterrupted from the time of the
apostles through all of church history. The evidence of history speaks loudly against that view.
Practically all biblically-minded believers prior to the 1900s regarded revelatory gifts and
miraculous abilities as "the signs of a true apostle" (2 Corinthians 12:12). Such gifts faded from
prominence in the early church even before most of the New Testament epistles were written. By
the time the apostolic era ended, trustworthy accounts of apostolic-quality signs and wonders had
ceased completely.

That view is known as cessationism. It was almost uncontested among evangelicals for
hundreds of years before the mid-twentieth century. Church history is of course peppered with
superstitious marvels, exaggerated urban legends, spurious relics, and fraudulent miracle-workers.
(Bogus miracle-claims increased dramatically in medieval times along with the rise of
extrabiblical sacerdotalism and the festering corruption of the Catholic priesthood.) But from the
post-apostolic era until the 1960s Christians who sought to be biblically-based and theologically
orthodox did not believe or claim that they had apostolic miracle-gifts at their disposal.

CONTINUATIONISM
Things have certainly changed. Cessationism is categorically out of vogue today. Not only
has the charismatic movement become massively popular on a worldwide scale, but even many
non-charismatics have backed away from classic cessationism, giving it up for continuationism, the
belief that all the spiritual gifts of the apostolic era are still available to the church today—
particularly those gifts that involved prophetic and miraculous phenomena.

Continuationism typically fosters an undue fascination with (and craving for) gifts that
confer miraculous abilities. Of course, one of the hallmarks of charismatic teaching has always
been the idea that it is the birthright of every Christian to prophesy and do miracles. That belief is
based on a misunderstanding of Joel 2:28-32 (quoted by Peter in Acts 2:17-21). Notice that the
text speaks of apocalyptic signs—tokens of judgment, actually—in the sun, moon, and sky. That
aspect of Joel’s prophecy clearly points toward something yet future. Without getting sidetracked
with a lengthy analysis of the eschatological significance of Joel 2, it ought to be clear from the text
itself that Joel’s prophecy encompasses far more than the tongues of Pentecost. Joel’s main focus
is an unprecedented display of divine power in the heavens. Most of the signs he describes are undeniable cosmic wonders—something far more convincing than the questionable “miracles”
claimed by the contemporary charismatic movement.

In any case, when Peter quoted Joel’s prophecy at Pentecost, what he emphasized was the
promise of salvation: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.” That was the
introduction to Peter’s sermon. He said nothing whatsoever about the apocalyptic elements of
Joel 2. He said nothing further about speaking in tongues or prophesying. Peter’s Pentecost
sermon was not a message about the charismata; it was about Christ’s work of redemption and
the guilt of the nation for having crucified their Messiah. Acts 2 and Joel 2 combined simply do not
bear the weight of continuationist doctrine.

All charismatics are continuationists by definition, of course. And not so long ago, virtually
all non-charismatics were convinced cessationists. The lines of difference and debate were clearly
drawn.

Those distinctions have been severely blurred by the advent of a middle-road position.
Many non-charismatics now hold a continuationist view of the apostolic-era gifts. Typically they
say they find continuationism compelling not because they think today's charismatic phenomena
actually look like apostolic miracles (they clearly don't), but because they have concluded there is
no sound exegetical basis for the cessationist position.

On the surface, that may sound like a conscientiously biblical and objectively even-handed
position. In practice, however, it has led to a significant decline in critical thinking about
charismatic claims. The middle of the road is a hard place to hold one's ground, and there is a
relentless magnetism between continuationist presuppositions and charismatic practices.

THE DEATH OF DISCERNMENT
Meanwhile, as cessationist conviction has fallen out of fashion, the voice of biblical
discernment has been all but silenced. Among Reformed and evangelical leaders, it sometimes
seems as if a moratorium has been declared against any negative assessment of modern
charismatic doctrine or practice. Over the past decade and a half, leading Reformed
continuationists have shown an almost obstinate unwillingness to voice any strong words of
caution against even the most outlandish charismatic fads.

To cite a few examples: John Piper and his pastoral staff investigated the Toronto Blessing
in the 1990s and declined to make any judgment about whether it was spurious or not. Sam
Storms lent his credibility the so-called Kansas City Prophets for at least a decade. Wayne Grudem
likewise aligned himself with some very bizarre prophetic abuses in his association with the
Vineyard movement and its offshoots. Jack Deere renounced cessationism in the 1980s and within
a few short years virtually engineered the spiritual train wreck that culminated in the public
disqualification of Paul Cain. And I can't think of a single Reformed continuationist leader who
sounded a clear warning (or even a mild disclaimer) about Todd Bentley's shenanigans when the
Lakeland disaster was at its peak.

It seems fair, then, to point out that the Reformed continuationist track record has been
less than stellar with regard to resisting dangerous and unbiblical elements in the charismatic
movement. That ought to be a burning embarrassment to our Reformed continuationist brethren.

Continued Next Time..

Sound Theology vs. Feelings in Times of Suffering

Sound theology and right thinking about God is a tremendous help when we are not feeling like things are going well. Phil Johnson explains.

This excerpt is from the blog back in August 2011.  Phil uses the example of Job to show the vital importance of sound theology (as opposed to feelings and emotions) in times of suffering.

Job, by God's own testimony, was a righteous man, "blameless and upright, and one who feared God and shunned evil" (1:1)—"none like him on the earth" (v.8).

But even the most righteous people on earth sometimes feel God is obscured by the darkness of grief and suffering. Job in particular suffered the loss of all his children and all his earthly possessions in a single day, after which his entire body was reduced to a festering mass of sores, and he was left without any earthly comfort whatsoever—while being besieged with bad counsel.

In the wake of so many unimaginable, crushing, life-destroying tragedies and plagues, Job felt abandoned by God. He feltoverwhelmed by grief and personal loss.

I imagine it would be pretty hard for any of us to understand how he felt, how much it hurt, and how bitter the whole experience tasted.

But I'll tell you this: What Job suffered was no easier for him emotionally than it would be for you and me, no matter how righteous he was. He still felt the same kind of pain, with the same intensity, that you and I would feel if we suffered this way.

Job 2:13 says his friends "sat down with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his grief was very great."

Human emotions don't help us make sense of these things. If you want to sort through the problem of evil, you have to think sensibly, and theologically, and biblically, and not let your emotions rule your mind.

Job was a wise enough man than to know better than to respond by reflex on the basis of his feelings. If he had responded according to what he felt like, he might have cursed God. If he had just given vent to his feelings, he could easily been consumed with bitterness, self-pity, anger, and frustration—and he might have been tempted to take his wife's advice: "Curse God and die!"

But Job's very first response was the response of someone who knows something about God: "Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21).

Job had filtered his feelings through his theology. It still did not make sense to him why he had to suffer like this (and that is why Job is 42 chapters long; because it records the dialogue Job had with his friends as he tried to sort this out). But even though it made no sense to him, even though he was overwhelmed with painful feelings, his immediate response made no mention of those feelings.

He doesn't focus on any doubt or confusion he might have been struggling with. Instead, his very first response was a bold affirmation of what he knew to be true about God.

Faced with the darkness of pain and loss, he didn't go chasing his emotions or wallowing in his uncertainty; he stood firm and clung to what he knew for sure. He anchored his soul on theological truths he was certain of, rather than setting himself adrift on a sea of confusion and doubt.

This cannot be stressed too much: It was sound theology, not his feelings, that enabled Job to weather the immediate shock of the news that his children and everything he owned were gone forever. This is why sound theology is so important—and so intensely practical. 

Sola Scriptura and the Role of Teachers

By Phil Johnson

A less-than-admiring reader writes:

Your identity as a "Baptist"; your endless quotations from Charles Spurgeon; your faithful devotion to John MacArthur; and especially your willingness to call yourself a "Calvinist" are all huge red flags that tell me something is seriously wrong with your theology. Why do you teach a system of doctrine that is named after a mere man? Why are you following human teachers instead of going to the Bible alone? After all, 1 John 2:27 says, "The anointing which ye have received of him abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you." We ought to go to Scripture alone to establish our doctrine! The truth is in God's Holy word, not in any theological system or theology textbook developed by mere men. Isn't that principle what the Reformation was originally about?Sola Scriptura?Didn't even Calvin himself go to Scripture for the truth instead of reading other men? I believe that if Calvin himself wrote for this blog, he would point people to the truth in God's Holy word, not to a theology developed by some other man.

My reply:

ou have seriously misunderstood sola Sriptura if you really imagine that it rules out human teachers or eliminates systematic theology. The Reformers (including Calvin) often cited the works of Augustine, Tertullian, Jerome, Cyprian, Ambrose, and others—ranging from the early church fathers through Aquinas. They didn't follow any of them slavishly, of course, but they certainly took them seriously. Not one of the major Reformers would have tolerated the claim that because the Church Fathers were mere men they were therefore irrelevant or incapable of shedding any helpful light on tough theological questions.

Sola Scriptura means that Scripture alone is the final court of appeal in all matters of faith and practice. It is an affirmation that "the whole counsel of God, concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man's salvation, faith, and life, is either expressly set down in scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from scripture" and that "nothing at any time is to be added [to the Bible], whether by new revelations of the Spirit, or traditions of men." It recognizes that there is ultimately no higher spiritual authority than God's Word, so "the infallible rule of interpretation of Scripture is the Scripture itself; and therefore, when there is a question about the true and full sense of any Scripture . . . it must be searched and known by other places that speak more clearly."

But none of that means we're obliged to discard the wisdom of godly men from ages past and require each man to try to discern truth from scratch by reading nothing but Scripture by himself.

As for Calvin, he certainly did "point people to the truth in God's Holy Word"—but one thing he did not do was steer people away from the important theologians of the past. In fact, Calvin's works are filled with references to the Church Fathers—Augustine in particular. Calvin knew it was important to demonstrate that he was proposing nothing wholly novel and that his theology was in the doctrinal lineage of the greatest theologians of the church. He regarded himself as Augustinian, in precisely the same way many today think of themselves as "Calvinists."

If Calvin wrote for this blog and someone responded to one of his posts by refusing to read what Augustine wrote, Calvin would probably write that person off as arrogant and unteachable.

Incidentally, 1 John 2:20,27 is the apostle John's response to an early outbreak of gnostic-flavored spiritual elitism. He was refuting some false teachers (he called them "antichrists") who insisted that real truth is a deep secret, different from the apostolic message, into which people must be initiated by some anointed swami. The Holy Spirit indwells and anoints each believer, and He is the One who truly enlightens and enables us to understand truth. But He also gifts certain people with a particular ability to teach others (Romans 12:6-7; Ephesians 4:11). So while John was condemning the notion of enlightened masters in the style of Freemasonry and gnosticism, he was not making a blanket condemnation of teachers. He himself was a teacher.

Bonus:

A follow-up message asks me if I am suggesting it's wrong for someone to abandon all books and human teachers and rely only on what he can glean from the Bible for himself. Answer: yes, I think that's wrong because it's arrogant and reflects a sinful kind of unteachability. This is my whole point: sola Scriptura doesn't rule out the valid role of teaching in the church.

Furthermore, it is simply not the case that any common, unskilled, unschooled individual, sitting down with his Bible and no other tools, can expect to come to a full and mature understanding of Scripture without any help from godly teachers who understand some things better than he will ever get it on his own. Here's Bernard Ramm's famous response to the arrogance reflected in such a perversion of sola Scriptura::

It is often asserted by devout people that they can know the Bible completely without helps. They preface their interpretations with a remark like this: "Dear friends, I have read no man's book. I have consulted no man-made commentaries. I have gone right to the Bible to see what it had to say for itself." This sounds very spiritual, and usually is seconded with amens from the audience.
     But is this the pathway of wisdom? Does any man have either the right or the learning to by-pass all the godly learning of the church? We think not.
     First, although the claim to by-pass mere human books and go right to the Bible itself sounds devout and spiritual it is a veiled egotism. It is a subtle affirmation that a man can adequately know the Bible apart from the untiring, godly, consecrated scholarship of men like [Athanasius,] Calvin, Bengel, Alford, Lange, Ellicott, or Moule. . . .
     Secondly, such a claim is the old confusion of the inspiration of the Spirit with the illumination of the Spirit. The function of the Spirit is not to communicate new truth or to instruct in matters unknown, but to illuminate what is revealed in Scripture. Suppose we select a list of words from Isaiah and ask a man who claims he can by-pass the godly learning of Christian scholarship if he can out of his own soul or prayer give their meaning or significance: Tyre, Zidon, Chittim, Sihor, Moab, Mahershalalhashbas, Calno, Carchemish, Hamath, Aiath, Migron, Michmash, Geba, Anathoth, Laish, Nob, and Gallim. He will find the only light he can get on these words is from a commentary or a Bible dictionary.

[from Bernard Ramm, Protestant Biblical Interpretation (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1970), pp. 17-18 (emphasis in original).]

Pyromaniacs: Emotions? Sure We Got Em.

"I don't believe the charismata are functioning today in any way that looks remotely like the apostolic gifts described in the New Testament. " Phil Johnson 

Johnson outlines some of the reasons he is a cessationist in regard to the charismatic gifts. He looks at the difference between what the Bible teaches and what charismatics claim about spiritual gifts and how they fall short of the Biblical gifts. If they fall way short, it may be because they are not the same. D.

Emotions? Sure. We got 'em. . .

by Phil Johnson

y cessationist convictions are no secret, although I have tried hard to stay out of debates about that subject here. But to reiterate: I don't believe the charismata are functioning today in any way that looks remotely like the apostolic gifts described in the New Testament. Benny Hinn's "miracles" don't bear the slightest resemblance to apostolic signs and wonders.

I consider cessationism a secondary issue, however, and it's certainly not something I'm interested in arguing about ad infinitum. So it's not a matter we like to bring up deliberately here on the blog. Carefully check the archives of this blog and its predecessor,and you will discover that when the subject comes up, it's usually at the prompting of our charismatic antagonists.

Like yesterday.

Nevertheless, I've been accused at times of "charismatic-bating."Truthfully, I think all of us Pyros would really prefer to steer clear of the issue completely (including Dan, if the facts were known), but it seems we can't even post on tangentially related topicswithout having charismatics crawling out of the woodwork spoiling for a fight. Even then, we do try hard not to be "shrill" about this subject. We love our charismatic friends—especially those who share our love for Scripture and sound doctrine.

As a matter of fact, last week within hours after John Piper posted his essay "The Morning I Heard the Voice of God," I linked to it in my "Where I am Right Now" column with this notation: "John Piper heard God speak! And I know this is true, because I got the same message!"

Frank Turk likewise linked to Piper's article a few hours later, as an addendum to last Wednesday's post, with a "Must Read" notation.

Later that evening, the esteemed Brit-blogger Dr. Adrian Warnockwrote to challenge us to respond to Piper's article. I assumed he had not noticed our links, and I pointed out that we had already double-linked the article with positive notices. Not satisfied, Dr. Warnock wrote to urge us to undertake a fuller dissection of the article and reply to his thoughts about it.

I was about to decline politely when Frank said he would take the assignment. Two or three days ago, Frank posted his draft in a secret place where Dan and I could preview it, proofread it, and make suggestions. We all agreed on the perspective Frank's article expressed. I especially thought he had done a good job (certainly a better job than I would have) at not sounding "shrill."

So much for good intentions.



So, since we've already ruffled charismatic feathers again, I thought I'd make this one more post with a personal perspective on the "cessationist" issue, and then I'm through. I really don't want to have to deal with this issue again every other month. It's not a new issue for me. I've studied it very thoroughly, and my position hasn't changed for more than 30 years, even though I've heard all the arguments and read all the books on the issue (and even edited some of them).

I want to give a word of personal testimony about why my position is so firm.

But first, here's some background material for those coming to this debate fresh:

Other Key Posts Where I have Dealt (usually under duress) With the Cessationism Issue "Invasion of the evangelical soothsayers" "Rubber prophecies" "Prophecy revisited" "Let's review the discussion so far:" "Why the cessationism 'discussion' may be a non-starter" "You're probably a cessationist, too" "Allow me to reiterate..."

Now, here's why (even though I liked that article last week) I disagree with John Piper regarding the "gift of prophecy":

Piper's view is that New Testament "prophecy" is "prompted and sustained by the Holy Spirit and yet is fallible." (See Frank Turk's discussion of this issue at his blog yesterday.) That is essentially the same view defended by Wayne Grudem in The Gift of Prophecy in the New Testament and Today.

Quite simply, the view contradicts Deuteronomy 18:21-22 "And if you say in your heart, 'How shall we know the word which the LORD has not spoken?'; when a prophet speaks in the name of the LORD, if the thing does not happen or come to pass, that is the thing which the LORD has not spoken; the prophet has spoken it presumptuously; you shall not be afraid of him."

I don't see anywhere in the New Testament where that principle was ever rescinded. Rather, the faithfulness and truthfulness of God is everywhere stressed in the New Testament (e.g., John 3:32-33; 1 Corinthians 1:9; etc.). The novel view of Piper and Grudem on New Testament Prophecy encourages people to claim God has spoken when He has not, and that in turn, tempts people to trust in a lie (cf.Jeremiah 28:15; 29:31).

No doubt some will find that judgment "shrill." I'm sorry for those who feel that way, but the issues are serious and in real life those very kinds of lies often deceive, disappoint, and even destroy people.

Why debating this issue is not a game to me

I grew up in Tulsa, practically within walking distance of Oral Roberts University, close to the headquarters of Kenneth Hagin—and surrounded by pentecostal and charismatic churches on almost every corner. My best friend from grade seven through high school was Bil, whose father was an old-line pentecostal faith-healing evangelist. Bil's dad was very well known in Pentecostal circles. He held massive healing meetings in places across Asia. I saw photographs of the meetings, and Bil's father's healing crusades drew people in the tens of thousands.

Of course, Bil himself was a committed devotee of the charismata.From the time I met him (when I was 12 years old) through my first year in college, he tried repeatedly to get me to speak in tongues. Unfortunately, he neglected to confront me with the claims of the gospel first, but I did ultimately discover enough truth in Scripture to be converted (at age 17).

When I finally did come to a saving knowledge of Christ, Bil cornered me and told me he was sure I was now finally ready to speak in tongues. He explained that I needed to seek the baptism of the Holy Spirit and attempt to speak in tongues, and he solemnly cautioned me I that would never truly be liberated from sin or spiritually empowered to serve the Lord until I received the true sign of the Spirit's fullness: tongues.

That's how, after my conversion, Bil tackled the task of turning me into a charismatic with new enthusiasm. He regularly urged me to seek the gift of tongues (I did); he walked me through all the Bible verses that referred to the gift of tongues (I studied them carefully); he took me to his church (where I witnessed glossolalia for the first time). I trusted him completely and didn't really resist anything he was telling me.

We were close friends, and all the years I knew him, he was generally a good influence on me. He seemed to believe the Bible implicitly, and he knew enough truth to avoid all the worst sins of youth. Having a close friend like him had preserved me from much of the peer pressure that caused many young people my age to flirt with all the sins that were in vogue in the late sixties and early seventies. So I was completely open to his spiritual advice as a new Christian.

But then sometime after my first year in college, I heard Bil's father was seriously ill. Bil's dad was still a relatively young man (younger than I am now) but he contracted a kind of cancer that led to a lingering, painful death. His suffering was ghastly, and the final months of his life were agonizing for the whole family. They were unable to grieve and unwilling even to say their goodbyes, believing they could not acknowledge in any way that he was really dying. They had to make a "positive confession," insisting to one another that he was being healed, and claiming every conceivable hint of improvement as a sign of total healing.

But Bil's father's pain never really abated until the cancer finally took his life.

Bil was devastated, and in the months and years that followed, he lost his faith completely. My last conversation with Bil occurred a few years ago, one day when I was about to board an overseas flight. I was traveling to a part of Asia where Bil had lived in the years when his father was ministering there, and I wanted to let him know I had not forgotten him and was still praying for him. At the mention of prayer, his voice almost went cold. He told me he had virtually given up every vestige of his earlier faith.

A couple of years ago I received a newspaper clipping with an obituary saying that Bil himself had died of heart failure. Whether he ever came to authentic faith in Christ and confidence in the truth of Scripture, I don't know.

I'm convinced Bil's faith failed in the first place because it was never true faith at all. It was sheer gullibility, cultivated in a religious culture where people are systematically and relentlessly exhorted to claim "healings" that contradict all medical evidence; to fake or imagine "miracles" that are no such thing; and to regard mental impressions and carnal intuition as "prophecy" from God. All of that is based on serious misunderstandings of Scripture, ignorance of the real purpose of God in sanctification, and unpardonable neglect of the lessons of church history.

The "modern prophecy" doctrine justifies what in my view is the most dangerous aspect of the whole charismatic belief system. It dignifies amateur prognostication with the title of "prophecy" and teaches people that imaginary messages in their heads might actually be revelation from the Holy Spiritand yet fallible at the same time.

That kind of doctrine I utterly and emphatically deplore.

Self Esteem, Possibility Thinking and Phillipians 4:13

Here is a good post on the often used verse, Phillipians 4:13.

Philippians 4:13 famously says, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me." There is perhaps no more confident statement in all of Scripture.

But it's not brazen self-confidence. It is confidence in the power of Christ.

That verse is not a manifesto for self-esteem and possibility thinking—although it is often used that way. People quote the verse as if it meant "With Jesus' help you can achieve whatever dream you have for yourself." That's not the idea at all. Paul is speaking as a man who wants to do the will of God and knows he is too weak and sinful to do it, but he is laying hold of Christ's power to do in him what he knows he cannot do on his own.

The appropriate cross-reference is 2 Corinthians 3:5: "Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God." Paul is simply modeling the principle he gave as an imperaive in Ephesians 6:10: "Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might."

There's not room for as much as an iota of carnal self-esteem, if you understand that principle.

Clarifying Calvinism- Part 3

Welcome back. Here is the next part of the series that Phil Johnson had done a couple years ago. In this part Johnson gives a couple resources that he considers to be fairly outlining the Arminian position. As well as a few good ones dealing with the Calvinist theology.

Clarifying Calvinism (Part 3)
January 15th, 2009

(By Phil Johnson)

Part III: Some book recommendations

Before we go further in this series, let me recommend a handful of books. The first book I want to recommend is a new book by Roger Olson, who is himself an Arminian, and he has written a defense of Arminianism titled Arminian Theology: Myths and Realities. You might be surprised to hear me recommend this book because I published a review of it on my weblog a few months ago, and the review wasn’t altogether positive. The review was written by my friend Gary Johnson, who is pastor of The Church Of The Redeemer in Mesa, Arizona. Gary’s mentor, by the way, was S. Lewis Johnson. And even though we are all three named Johnson, none of us are related. (Though I would be very happy to be related to either S. Lewis Johnson or Gary Johnson.) Anyway, Gary’s review was in several parts, and he titled it “Calvinists in the Hands of an Angry Arminian.” So it wasn’t a completely positive review, and I agree with practically all of Gary’s complaints about the book.
But I have to say that Olson’s book is the best book in defense of Arminianism I’ve ever read. Some readers might be aware that I didn’t have a very high opinion of Dave Hunt’s anti-Calvinistic screed. When I reviewed Hunt’s book in a Shepherds’ Conference seminar a few years ago, someone told me the only reason I hated the book was because I’m a Calvinist and Hunt stepped on my toes.

And I said, “No, it’s just a really bad book, written by a guy who has no clue what he is talking about.”

My friend challenged that: “Name one well-written book, written after 1950, either defending Arminianism or attacking Calvinism, written by someone who does know what he is talking about.”

I admit it; I was stumped. But now Roger Olson has bailed me out. If anyone ever asks me that question again, I can point to Olson’s book. It’s a good defense of Arminianism, and although I disagree with virtually all his conclusions, he pretty much knows what he is talking about, and he explains the differences between Arminianism, Pelagianism, and semi-pelagianism pretty well.

If you read that book, you’ll need to read at least three or four good Calvinist books to get the taste out of your mouth. So I’ll recommend three. Two are standard works that I routinely recommend every year. The first is a massive syllabus, written by Curt Daniel, called The History and Theology of Calvinism. These are notes Dr. Daniel wrote when he taught this material, and the tapes of his teaching are downloadable for free from the internet. Dr. Daniel is currently working on developing that material in book form, to be published by P&R. My guess is you’ll have to wait 2-3 years for that, so buy the syllabus; download the sound files for free download.

The other standard work you must have is the book by David Steele, Curtis Thomas, Lance Quinn, titled The Five Points of Calvinism (also by P&R). It is an encyclopedic collection of key Scripture references and some wonderful essays explaining and defending Calvinism from the Bible.

And then one of my favorite books — hard to find for a long time but recently published in a quality edition by Audobon Press, The Great Invitation, by Erroll Hulse, subtitled “Examining the use of the altar call in evangelism.” The book deals with the question of altar calls, as the subtitle suggests, but it’s greatest value, I think, is that this is a classic example of the kind of warm-hearted, evangelistic, classic Calvinism that I appreciate, and it’s a great antidote to the ugly Calvinism I spoke about that you find in Internet forums. Erroll Hulse is a greatly respected British Reformed Baptist leader, and this is one of my all-time favorite books.

Clarifying Calvinism-Part I: Is Arminianism damnable heresy?

Sorry it has been a while since I have posted. Thank you Kwame for holding down the fort.

I recently came across a series of articles by Phil Johnson over at Pyromaniacs Blog. Actually these are transcripts from a conference where Johnson spoke on his journey to Calvinism as well as some of the points of Calvinism, or as he suggests, the more Biblical way of understanding God, salvation, our role in it.

This is on a fairly basic level, so it is accessible to the non-scholar, which is nice because some of the discussions can get a bit overwhelming. I was partly drawn because my journey has been a little similar, taking place over a period of many years as my thinking and understanding has changed and grown.

I will be posting the first one today and the subsequent ones in the near future (hopefully). I will try and add a few comments, but I think that the content is good on its own, so I will keep my thoughts to a minimum. Be sure to comment as I think the benefit of discussion can be very helpful in working through these issues. Without further ado:

Part I: Is Arminianism damnable heresy?

I love the doctrines of grace and don’t shy away from the label “Calvinist.” I believe in the sovereignty of God. I’m convinced Scripture teaches that God is completely sovereign not only in salvation (effectually calling and granting faith to those whom He chooses); but also in every detail of the outworking of Providence. “Whom He predestined, these He also called; whom He called, these He also justified; and whom He justified, these He also glorified” (Romans 8:30). And He makes “all things work together for good to those who love God, [i.e.,] to those who are the called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). Quite simply, He “works all things according to the counsel of His will” (Ephesians 1:11).

[D. here: This has been one area that has changed over the years for me, too. The sovereignty of God. I have found He is much more in control and powerful than I used to think.]

That’s what people commonly mean when they speak of “Calvinism.” When I accept that label, I am not pledging allegiance to the man John Calvin. I am not affirming everything he taught, and I’m not condoning everything he did. [I think this is a common misunderstanding] I’m convinced Calvin was a godly man and one of the finest biblical expositors and theological minds ever, but he wasn’t always right. As a matter of fact, my own convictions are baptistic, so I am by no means one of Calvin’s devoted followers. In other words, when I accept the label “Calvinist,” it’s only for convenience’s sake. I’m not saying “I am of Calvin” in the Corinthian sense.

Furthermore, I’m not one of those who wears Calvinism like a big chip on his shoulder, daring people to fight with me about it. It’s true that I can get feisty about certain points of doctrine—especially when someone attacks a principle that goes to the heart of the gospel, like substitutionary atonement, or original sin, or justification by faith and the principle of imputed righteousness. When one of those principles is challenged, I’m ready to fight. (And I also don’t mind beating up on whatever happens to be the latest evangelical fad.)

[I like his feisty-ness-I relate. :-) ]

But Calvinism isn’t one of those issues I get worked up and angry about. I’ll discuss it with you, but if you are spoiling for a fight about it, you are likely to find me hard to provoke. I spent too many years as an Arminian myself to pretend that the truth on these issues is easy and obvious.

Now, don’t get the wrong idea. I do think the truth of God’s sovereignty is clear and ultimately inescapable in Scripture. But it is a difficult truth to come to grips with, so I am sympathetic with those who struggle with it. I’m Calvinistic enough to believe that God has ordained (at least for the time being) that some of my brethren should hold Arminian opinions.

[Now, I am still working with God's help, of course, on my own response with the much graciousness Johnson shows. If you think I am spicy now, you should have seen me before. :-)]

Over the years I have probably written at least twice as much material trying to tone down angry hyper Calvinists as I have arguing with Arminians. That’s not because I think hyper Calvinism is a more serious error than Arminianism. As a matter of fact, I would say the two errors are strikingly similar. But I don’t hear very many voices of caution being raised against the dangers of hyper Calvinism, and there are armies of Calvinists out there already challenging the Arminians, so I’ve tried to speak out as much as possible against the tendencies of the hypers.

That’s why I’m probably a whole lot less militant than you might expect when it comes to attacking the errors of Arminianism. Besides, I have gotten much further answering Arminian objections with patient teaching and dispassionate, reasonable, biblical instruction—instead of angry arguments and instant anathemas.

Why not take a more passive, lenient, brotherly, approach to all theological disagreements? Because I firmly believe there are some theological errors that do deserve a firm and decisive anathema. That’s Paul’s point in Galatians 1:8-9; and it’s the same point the apostle John makes in 2 John, verses 7-11. When someone is teaching an error that fatally corrupts the truth of the gospel, “let him be anathema.”

But let me be plain here: Simple Arminianism doesn’t fall in that category. It’s not fair to pin the label of rank heresy on Arminianism, the way some of my more zealous Calvinist brethren seem prone to do. I’m talking about historic, evangelical Arminianism, of the classic and Wesleyan varieties — Arminianism, not Pelagianism, or open theism, or whatever heresy Clark Pinnock has invented this week — but true evangelical Arminianism. Arminianism is certainly wrong; and I would argue that it’s inconsistent with itself. But in my judgment, standard, garden variety Arminianism is not so fatally wrong that we need to consign our Arminian brethren to the eternal flames or even automatically refuse them fellowship in our pastors’ fraternals.

If you think I’m beginning to sound like an apologist for Arminianism, I’m definitely not that. I do think Arminianism is a profound error. Its tendencies can be truly sinister, and when it is allowed to go to seed, it does lead people into rank heresy. But what I’m saying here is that mere Arminianism itself isn’t damnable heresy. It’s just grossly inconsistent with the core gospel doctrines that Arminians themselves believe and affirm.

But as long as I’m sounding like a defender of Arminianism, let also me say this: There are plenty of ignorant and inconsistent Calvinists out there, too. With the rise of the Internet it’s easier than ever for self taught lay people to engage in theological dialogue and debate through internet forums. I think that’s mostly good, and I encourage it. But the Internet makes it easy for like minded but ignorant people to clump together and endlessly reinforce one another’s ignorance. And I fear that happens a lot.

[I have too often myself in this position as I am working through the process. But I also know for me that I must start to attempt to defend the new position to see if it is worth keeping or not. It would be easy enough to just accept and internally believe a particular thing, but quite another to get into the marketplace of ideas and see how it holds up. When the ultimate goal is truth, there should be less fear that a particular 'pet doctrine' is challenged. There is more that could be said on this issue, but I won't for now.]

Hyper Calvinists seem especially susceptible to that tendency, and there are nests of them here and there—especially on the Internet. And more and more frequently these days I encounter people, who have been influenced by extremism on the Internet, touting hyper Calvinist ideas and insisting that if someone is an Arminian, that person is not really a Christian at all. They equate Arminianism with sheer works salvation. They suggest that Arminianism implicitly denies the atonement. Or they insist that the God worshiped by Arminians is a totally different God from the God of Scripture.

That’s really over-the-top rhetoric—totally unnecessary—and rooted in historical ignorance. A couple of years ago, when I started my weblog, I mentioned that tendency in the first entry I posted, which was titled “Quick and Dirty Calvinism.” At the end of that post, I said this: My advice to young Calvinists is to learn theology from the historic mainstream Calvinist authors, not from blogs and discussion forums on the Internet. Some of the forums may be helpful because they direct you to more important resources. But if you think of the Internet as a surrogate for seminary, you run a very high risk of becoming unbalanced.

Read mainstream Calvinist authors, however, and you’ll have trouble finding even one who regarded Arminianism per se as damnable heresy. There’s a reason for that: It’s because while Arminianism is bafflingly inconsistent, it is not necessarily damnably erroneous. Most Arminians themselves—and I’m still speaking here of the classic and Wesleyan varieties, not Pelagianism masquerading as Arminianism—most Arminians themselves emphatically affirm gospel truth that is actually rooted in Calvinistic presuppositions.