Yes, I Signed the Nashville Statement

The Nashville Statement, recently published by a group of Biblically-oriented American pastors, scholars and Christian thought-leaders, is the most recent in a centuries-old line of statements, declarations, resolutions and councils. From time to time concerned believers gather to wrestle with thorny contemporary matters—issuing clear and authoritative proclamations to  help guide the church through difficult times.

The city-based identifier for such bulletins was established centuries ago at a meeting of Christian bishops in Nicea, which yielded The Nicene Creed in 325. After  a subsequent confab in Constantinople in 381, and Chalcedon in 451, the precedent was set.

In modernity we saw a response to the rise of National Socialism in Germany—the Barmen Declaration of 1934. Its signatories, including Dietrich Bonhoeffer, resisted the move by many German churches to affiliate with the Nazi party, speaking with a laser-like prescience: "We reject the false doctrine, as though the Church were permitted to abandon the form of its message and order to its own pleasure or to changes in prevailing ideological and political convictions."

During my own lifetime have come The Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy (1978), The Danvers Statement on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood (1987), and the Manhattan Declaration on the Sanctity of Life & Freedom of Conscience (2009, released in the internet age, and which I also signed). In differing forms we have recently seen "councils" like The Moral Majority, Promise Keepers, The Gospel Coalition, Women of Faith, The Coalition of African American Pastors, The Museum of the Bible, and many other issue-answering endeavors to maintain a faithful Christian witness, Biblical literacy, and a "discerning [of] the times, because the days are evil." (Ephesians 5:16)

So it is not unheard of for Biblically-minded American church leaders to wade into controversy. As with all of these documents, The Nashville Statement (officially from the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood) is addressed to the church, but is aware of a wider audience, as stated in the preamble: "...in the hope of serving Christ’s church and witnessing publicly to the good purposes of God for human sexuality revealed in Christian Scripture, we offer the following affirmations and denials."

The thirteen articles themselves are mostly uncontroversial, at least for evangelical believers. If you take the Bible seriously, you'll be hard pressed to argue against these affirmations and denials. Christian psychologist and author Mark Yarhouse doesn't dispute the theology, but wonders about the Statement's "language," given that the labels and terms of identity and proclivity are still in flux. Those in the church who have publicly approved of homosexual behavior, transgender treatment, or have actually performed same-sex "marriages," feel themselves singled out by Article X. And well they should. Their high public profiles, and their divergence from Biblical norms may have endeared them to the media and popular culture, but their shifts away from historic Biblical belief and practice have opened a wound in the body of Christ.

That some people's feelings would be hurt by The Nashville Statement was all but inevitable. That breakaway churches and celebrated Christian mavericks would recant was all but impossible. That these evil days call for a choose-you-this-day-whom-you-will-serve ethos is all but certain. I've made my choice.

Christian Name Calling: Don't Use This Word (Pt 2)

Part 1 of my rumination on Christian name-calling focussed on the eponymous "Christian" as an honorable name. We saw that it had been foretold by the prophet Isaiah, that its first use was memorialized by Luke in Acts 11, that its ubiquity was confirmed by a King (Agrippa) to the Apostle Paul in Acts 26, and that its status was elevated by no less than Saint Peter in his first letter to fellow saints scattered across Asia Minor. So not only is calling ourselves—and one another—"Christian" not a problem, it's actually a divinely appointed name.

In the  Gospels and the first two-thirds of Acts, Christ-followers are mostly called Disciples. Jesus himself used that name, but he also called his posse and individual followers by other names—friends, brothers, sisters, children, man, woman, servants, branches, and many more. One interesting rabbit-hole to go down in this study is to compare the different animals Jesus cited when describing his pals—sheep, doves, sparrows—versus those animals used to describe people who opposed Christ: wolves, vipers, snakes, a fox.

Jesus was pretty binary. He trafficked heavily in either/or formulations—he was waaay more us/them than is currently in vogue. Jesus explicitly told us he came to divide people (Matt 10 & 25), and once called Peter, his first lieutenant, Satan. So let's dispense with the recent political-correctness among academics to alter names used in scripture (ie: gender-based rewrites of Bible translations). Instead we should examine scripture honestly for guidance as to what we call ourselves—since out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. Because the way man thinks in his heart defines who he is. Which means the names we choose to describe ourselves are deeply important.

Would it surprise you to learn the scriptures nowhere refer to Christians as sinners? Not once. In the Bible Christians are said to be born again, new creatures, possessing a divine nature, having the mind of Christ, being a royal priesthood, a holy nation, the true circumcision, the bride of Christ, and many other affirming honorifics. But never sinners. Ever.

And yet, chances are in the last year you've heard a preacher call himself—and you, and all believers—sinners. I've certainly heard this. Sometimes it is followed by a qualifier "saved by grace," but not always. More and more lately this name-calling just stands on its own: "Look, we're all sinners here."

Excuse me? Says who? "Well," comes the defense, "scripture says all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Sure, and Paul even admitted to having been the "chief" sinner. But that was the "old man," in the past—which is what Paul is talking about in Romans 3: "former sins." The Apostle is clearly saying that was then, but this is now. And anyway the passage is generic—not labeling the Christians in Rome as sinners. Paul is demonstrating the universality of both Jews and Gentiles having been sinners. "But now the righteousness of God has been manifested..." It's a new covenant, and now we Gentiles can become new creatures in Christ: grafted into the vine. Born again.

If you've read much of Paul's writing, you know he often echoes phrases and words from Hebrew scripture. "Sinners" were not unknown in the Old Testament. Perhaps the most famous OT use of the word is in Psalm 51, where David speaks of his own "sin" in verse 4, but then in verse 13 promises to teach "transgressors" God's ways so "sinners will be converted." David confesses that he had sinned, but he does not consider himself "a sinner," because he had repented, and came with a broken and contrite heart before the God of his salvation.

When the Pharisees called somebody a sinner, Jesus didn't dispute their characterization, but said sinners were the ones he came to save—the afflicted, the brokenhearted, the captives, the prisoners. "For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance" (Matthew 9:13). Once a sinner repents, believes, and is baptized, their identity is now in Christ, and they are born from above. That was me, but not anymore: the old is past.

Paul acknowledges that his beloved Corinthians did indeed have a past. "And such were some of you" he said after rattling off a list of the kind of people who will not enter the Kingdom of God. "But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God" (1 Corinthians 6:11). Something happened to the Corinthians, and they're not any of those things now.

There may be many different motives behind Christian leaders telling God's elect they are sinners. Some may think they're echoing Paul's exhortation cited above. Some may be flat-out guilt manipulators. And many these days seek to be "relevant," trumpeting a newly-invented Christian virtue of "empathy." This has the effect of lowering everybody to the same level, and is a hallmark of Progressivism. Nobody can call me "judgey" if I say I'm a sinner just like you.

But I urge preachers, professors, elders, worship leaders, deacons, authors, Sunday school teachers, youth leaders— anybody who is in Christian leadership— to recognize the power of their words to shape the self-concept of those they lead. Because they lead the Bride of Christ—and she ain't no sinner.

Christian Name Calling: Don't Use This Word (Pt 1)

The list of widely used derogatory names for followers of Jesus Christ is actually quite short: Jesus Freaks, True Believers, Holy Rollers, and Bible Thumpers. That's about it. Those wishing to insult or demean Christ's adherents have pretty much given up the hunt for a concise pejorative. They just cite the most ancient moniker: Christians. Once it is clear who they're talking about, the descriptors flow freely—as in "Christians are . . . hypocrites, judgmental, superstitious, anti-science, bigots, haters." And the list goes on.

But that's not what this post is about. I wanna talk about what followers of Jesus Christ call themselves and one another. Most importantly what we should never call ourselves or each other.

The Stereotypical Christian?

CHRISTIANS?

First some demythologizing. The word "Christian" appears in scripture three times. There's approximately zero direct evidence that pagans in Antioch invented the word as an insult, as goes the old chestnut. Please read Acts 11:26 again and remind me about the infinitive aorist tense in New Testament Greek (ie: on-going & passive). Let's go to the NASB: "...the disciples were first called Christians in Antioch." Who was doing the "calling?" It doesn't say. Might've been the locals, might've been The Disciples themselves. Was the word meant to impugn? It doesn't say. There's no hint of persecution, hostility, or opposition in Antioch at all—to the contrary, Luke tells us "the hand of the Lord was with them, and a large number who believed turned to the Lord." The main headline about the church in Antioch is the success of the gospel among Gentiles before the Apostle Paul had ever visited.

Some point to King Agrippa using the word in disgust after hearing Paul's speech (Acts 26). But how, exactly, do we know the King spoke it in disgust? The word was apparently in widespread use by that time. Agrippa had never heard a real, live leader of The Way present the Gospel of Jesus Christ, so he was pleased to have Paul deliver a sermon to the king's court. The result? Agrippa's famed exclamation that he was "almost persuaded" to become a Christian.

Yes, many newer Bible translations cast Agrippa's words as a question, along the lines of "Do you think you can so quickly persuade me to be a Christian?" I'm not convinced he was asking a question, but what if he was? If Aggy was asking a rhetorical question—and even if that question's intent was to assure his courtly audience that he would not convert to Christ—it still doesn't mean the word "Christian" was itself a slur. In fact, Agrippa could've been giving Paul a mock-compliment—sort of a boast for being strong in his own Pagan faith. He acknowledges Paul's masterful presentation, admires the prisoner's moxie, and spins it to his posse as "I just took the strongest punch any preacher could ever give—and it didn't even faze me. I'm still a great Pagan. Probably the best Pagan ever."

Not to mention that you can insult a person using purely "acceptable" words. In fact, the best insults masquerade as compliments (ie: damning with faint praise). No, we can't use Agrippa to seal the deal for "Christian" being a word of derision. And don't skip past the fact that one of the three mentions of this word in scripture comes out of the mouth of a King—in front of witnesses. Including the Apostle Paul.

And a historical note. It's hard to imagine any early disciple of Jesus being offended by the label "Christ." But what about the suffix "-ian?" What does this modifier do to the word? Roman soldiers of the era serving under a particular general would add "-iani" (Latin) or "-ianos" (Greek) to the end of their general's name, denoting their allegiance to him. Caesar's soldiers were called "Caesariani." Therefore this construct quite literally means "Christ-follower."

Others argue that the author of Acts himself (Luke) persisted in calling the new religionists "disciples," and not "Christians." True. Luke continued to use the same word he'd used dozens of times in his Gospel. So riddle me this: after Acts 21 Luke stopped using the word "disciple." Seriously. The word never again appears in the rest of the New Testament. I mean, over 250 uses in the four Gospels and Acts, then—whoosh!—the word vanishes faster than Lazarus from the pages of scripture.

Look, all the arguments that the word "Christian" was an insult rely on inference. People have assumed the pagan populace of Antioch came up with the name. No evidence, Biblical or historical, supports this. On top of which they assume that because Antioch was pagan the word just had to be a hostile nickname. Again, no evidence in or out of scripture for it being derogatory. Then they pile on another assumption that Agrippa was echoing a vernacular slight. Maybe. Possibly. Assuming the first two assumptions were correct. But what saith the scripture?

Take the passage where Peter is intentionally specific and sober in using the word "Christian" (1 Peter 4:16), which is its third-and-final appearance in the Bible. Peter's letter utterly debunks the modern meme that "the believers never called each other Christians." Hello? Here's the Apostle who was given the keys to the kingdom urging his flock to endure suffering "as a Christian."

Every Junior High Sunday School student knows that first-use is a big deal in the Bible. Let's go back to the first-use of "Christian" in Acts 11:26 and the focus on the words "first called." Both of those words are yuge in scripture, and loaded with meaning. Firstborn. First fruits. First day of the week. First to believe. First commandment. First Adam. And don't ignore the connection between "first" and the number one. To wit: "one and only Son," "the Lord our God is one," "one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father." So having this news item highlighted in scripture as a "first" tells us to stop and consider.

I consider the word "called" to be the clincher for "Christian" being a very good name indeed. The Greek word used here for "called" isn't the common word found in "they shall be called the children of God," or "the one called Peter," or even "thou shalt call his name Jesus." No, this is a rarely-used mystical word, the Greek word "chrematizo." It appears nine times in scripture, seven of which explicitly indicate that an Angel, the Holy Spirit, or God himself is giving an instruction (Strong's 5537). Acts 11:26 is one of two times where it's not explicit that God is speaking. Still, if the statement "first called Christians" were a mere aside, why use such a highly-freighted word? Answer: it's not an aside.

Luke's brief notation, validated by King Agrippa's words to Paul, and sealed with Peter's charge to all who name the Name of Christ, is not a pagan invention. It is a prophecy fulfilled. How could such an innocuous expression as "the disciples were first called Christians in Antioch" actually be a chrematizo—a legitimate oracle? Is there a prophecy foretelling this new name? Yes. Yes there is.

The nations will see your righteousness,

And all kings your glory;

And you will be called by a new name

Which the mouth of the Lord will designate.

— Isaiah 62:2 (NASB)

First called by whom? Well there's your chrematizo: the name was designated in advance and came from the mouth of the Lord. I'm gonna guess the Antioch disciples themselves came up with the name. But if not, this wouldn't be the first time God used pagans or foreign Kings to fulfill his promises to his own people. I am happy to be called a Christian, seeking daily to live up to my master's example.

~~~

SAINTS? THE FAITHFUL?

So, what about the other Biblical names Christians were called? These are names which we may call ourselves and one another. Just a partial list: brethren, the elect, servants, believers, dear children, little flock, sheep, followers, the faithful, the redeemed of the Lord, saints, the righteous, a holy nation, and even bondservants of Christ.

But there's one name from scripture (not in the list above) which I hear repeatedly used by Christians of themselves. It's even sometimes used of other—even all—believers. It is a tag that no Christian should ever place on themselves. That one word will be the subject of Part Two of this post.