More Like the Early Church

[Some edits have been done to clarify who the hobbyist is that I corresponded with, and to attempt to give him the credit necessary to avoid the plagiarism of putting my words in his mouth as well as the plagiarism of taking ideas I got from him as my own; these edits were of my own volition, and in fact should have been in the initial post. There were probably one or two others, but the content, the ideas I claim to be putting forth, have remained unchanged.]

[[A second edit, double-bracketed unlike the first which was too large and variable to be unmarked, to erase a brief gap in thinking.]]

My words will be in plainer text.
The words of the 'voice in bold,' which represents absolutely nothing except perhaps my need to get out more often, are naturally in bold. The voice in bold will begin:

---

So, it seems like Churches aren't really 'staying together for the kids' anymore. Why does the One Way to heaven have so many different representative groups?

It's a general pattern in the splitting of Churches, which Catholics call schism, that the church which does the splitting, the rebelling, the Reforming, or the group which is split off or "kicked out" but does not walk out, to claim that they are the ones returning to the original teachings of Christ, to the Early Church. This is at least indicative that they desire to establish a greater continuity with that purer Christianity which was less worn and sullied by time and developments in doctrine.

So we want to go back to the time that we were [pure and simple] Christ-followers?

Yes, and it's an admirable desire. Never mind, of course, that said Early Church was in turn a tree sprung with the roots of Judaism, certainly a religion that already had plenty of doctrines and developments and a people, if not a system, worn and sullied by time. Never mind that, as soon as (if not before) it changed from the Earliest Church to the Early Church, it was already absorbing also the much more monstrous thing known as Greek philosophy. But I digress.

To restate that desire: "We want to be more like the Early Church." Or alternatively, "we want to be truer to the teachings of Jesus."

*Groan.* "We want to be more like the Early Church, or alternatively, truer to the teachings of Jesus."

But the second really boils down to the first, unless we want to work off of the supposition that the Early Church would not be the best available source to go to for the first and purest records and interpretations of the teachings of Jesus. In that case, since the Earliest Church is the source of all of our Sacred Scripture, and the Sacred Scripture is the source of basically all we claim as Christians to know about Jesus, we're in trouble. We could save ourselves with some 'dictation theory' of Scripture, but that still leaves us with the problem of how the Late Early Church, which is of course unreliable (since its ancestor the Earliest Church is unreliable) figured out what Scriptures were which; in turn we are forced to a similar 'dictation theory' of the Canon's development; eventually, we shall be forced to admit to two or more counts of special pleading, depending on how far we've got into this line of reasoning.

So, let's restate that desire, people! "We want our church to be more like the Early Church."

*Sigh.* "We want our church to be more like the Early Church."

Oh. You want to be more like the Early Church? (To get a full grasp of my tone here, it's very important that you make your voice higher when you begin to say "Early" and slide down from the "Earl--" to the "lee." It would also work okay if you started lower on "earl" and slid up to "lee," but said slide should be less dramatic than your downward slide.)

So, you're going to answer your obviously leading question how?

Let's see. For the Early Church, we've got roughly three basic groupings we can put our sources into.

The first is the Earliest Church. We take as a point of definition the New Testament itself, many books of which are believed by Tradition if not by modern scholarship, to have been written by the Apostles themselves, in addition to the Earliest Church's theological heavyweight, Paul and up to a few other persons who are members of the Earliest Church and have come into some kind of contact, via community or personal relationship, with the heavyweights of Christianity. So we've got the Earliest Church, recorded in the New Testament writings and the writings of the Apostolic Fathers.

Next let's move on to the Ante-Nicene fathers. Note that many of the persons listed here had one or two degrees of separation from the Earliest Church. For sake of fun, I'm going to call these guys the Middle Early Church. These guys wrote volumes of theology that still survive today, and they include systematic developments of things like:

* The unity of Scripture. See for example Irenaeus's "Against Heresies", which seeks to establish among other things that the God of the Old Testament and of the New Testament are one and the same. It is not of course his idea, but it is under attack and he does give it further systematic development than that previously given in, well, pick any New Testament writer.

* How church is done. Ignatius of Antioch's letters to the churches on how to do church, and how to conduct oneself, and a little bit of stuff on heresy--and the Didache, which discuss how church is done but certainly don't shy away from Pauline lists of wrongdoings.

* The doctrines Christians associate with the Trinity and Christ, including but not limited to whether Christ was truly equal to the Father and whether Jesus of Nazareth was fully human and fully divine. Justin Martyr, Origen, Irenaeus, Tertullian, and many others, all contributed to the work on these problems.

* The Canon of Scripture, which was ratified a couple of times in the fourth and fifth centuries A.D., was developed not in quite as rigorous a fashion as other doctrinal issues, in my humble opinion, but in a more unsystematic and fluid fashion, partly by use and gradual acceptance (or non-acceptance) of the Canon (or the non-Canon). So this one actually belongs to at least a couple of the Post-Nicaea Fathers as well.

These are just a few of the doctrines that developed, rightly or wrongly, by the Church that has the most access to the Earliest Church's material and meaning, with the exception of the Earliest Church itself. So to recap, so far we have the Earliest Church and the Middle Early Church, the first containing (perhaps arbitrarily) whichever persons authored the New Testament, and the second containing the group of Christians immediately following this (though depending on dating, one or two of their documents may have ultimately come before one or two of the documents contained in the New Testament.) Let us now turn to the Late Early Church, the Church after the Council of Nicaea.

A fun side-note: The Council of Nicaea, which ratified in its Creed the divinity and humanity of Christ, among many other things Christians take as true, was the event at which St. Nicholas (yes, that St. Nicholas) is known or at least legend-ed to have slapped the heretic Arius, who taught that Christ was not "eternally begotten of the Father" but was rather a created being. A pastor whom I very much love and love to hear speak, Joe Woodruff, once told this story in a sermon and noted how very amusing he thought the idea of Santa Claus slapping a heretic was. I concur. This is however entirely a red herring, and doesn't have any further bearing on this tangent. I just think it's a good story.

The Late Early Church, as said before, did the deed of ratifying the Canon of Scripture, and includes such luminaries as Augustine of Hippo, who wrote volumes of theology and philosophy and contributed significantly to controversies regarding whether humans needed God's grace to be saved, and also how salvation worked in terms of Sacraments. I won't get into what a Sacrament means to the Early Church, or why and how its effectiveness was being disputed, just right here. That's not the point of what I'm doing here. Also, it would require me to do a bit of review on both points and probably expose many of the weaker points in my historical-theological knowledge and embarrass myself. Maybe I'll embarrass myself another time.

Chicken.

Yep, yes I am.

So, summarize that piece for me.

So we have contained in our Early Church: the Earliest Church, the Middle Early Church and the Late Early Church. All of these are closer in space-time context to the actual person, Jesus of Nazareth, than we. Now remember, it is a fact affirmed by all of orthodox Christianity that Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God, more precisely the Son of God the Father, also known as the Second Person of the Trinity, also known as God. But it took approximately three hundred years from the Birth of Christ for this to be formally recognized. It took painful and sometimes bitter debate to establish what was there in the Scriptures written by the Earliest Church, in no small part because the Middle Early Church (not as much the Late Early Church) didn't quite have all that was to be considered Scripture yet established for itself, and in spite of what canon they did have vaguely established.

So uh, how do we know they got the right books?

I was just going to say: And this ultimately raises the question of how we can trust that the canon eventually ratified by the Late Early Church was really the correct cannon. Let us leave aside for a moment the fact that nearly every if not every church-split including the Reformation split itself was made by persons who rejected many of the books in this Late Early Church canon. (In other words, to some degree or another, many of the persons involved in the splitting of churches patently don't trust that the right Canon was ratified way back when.) Let's at least agree that the non-Deuterocanonical books ratified by the Late Early Church were really supposed to be in the canon. How can we know that they were supposed to be there?

Most curiously to myself--what is the relation of Tradition, in the Early Church, to the Scriptures?

I see where you were going with this, you proto-Papist.

Okay...At any rate, another fun side-note here. Jerome was considered a Saint in Catholic tradition and known as a famous translator of Scripture of the Late Early Church and possibly the Middle Early Church, as well. And he's known for having been ordered to translate the Canon as ratified, including the Deuterocanonical books, and legend-ed at least for having complained that they weren't Scripture (though he was obedient and translated them anyway.) He's known for having been a crotchety man, often portrayed holding a human skull, and it gives me great joy to imagine Jerome bent over the Deuterocanonicals, translating them and muttering to himself in Latin, "I can't believe they're making me translate this...not even Scripture..." This red herring will come back later, I promise.

So, how do we know Things?

At any rate. In my mind there are two particularly appealing historical theories. The first corresponds to the modern position taken by the Roman Communion and a few other groups, which is that ultimately Scripture and Tradition are each in and of themselves sources of revelation. The second corresponds to the modern position taken by the vast majority of Protestantism, which is that sola scriptura or "scripture alone" is the authority. For the sake of this argument sola scriptura may be treated as roughly equivalent to, at the least, the Protestant formations of prima scriptura, such as the placements of Scripture and Tradition in John Wesley's Quadrilateral of Scripture, Tradition, Reason, and Experience. If it turns out that sola/prima scriptura are not here treatable as the same, then I suppose I will find myself in some sort of error and would be much obliged to be corrected as to how and where; indeed I already suspect that this could happen, and know exactly what to do if it is agreed that I have erred in treating them together: A simple division into cases that will pretty much leave me with what I started with.

So these theories are what?

The first particularly appealing theory is that regardless of whether Scripture is ultimately on the level of Tradition, or above the level of Tradition in some sense, the Tradition itself is a mode of revelation of the Divine. This theory explains the facts fairly well. We may trust the Tradition's ratification of the Scriptures as Revelation, because Tradition in its own right is a vehicle of revelation. We may trust the Tradition's interpretation of the Scriptures, and should at least value it above other interpretations if not disregard contradictory interpretations.

The second particularly appealing theory will take a moment to explain; I have only in recent correspondence, with a hobbyist almost on the level of scholar of classics and Early Church Fathers by the name of Roger Pearse, even heard of its existence. (Pearse, by the way, is totally awesome.) The key idea of his theory, at least in my mind, was that the invocation of apostolic authority by the Fathers and against the heretics in the early period of the Church was done for primarily pragmatic reasons. It sparked one or two other thoughts and formulations that warranted inclusion in this theory. As such it is not the same theory I heard. (On the off-chance that I have interpreted him wrongly, and it is in fact the same theory he had passed on to me, I offer my sincere apologies.) But here it is, at any rate.

It seems that if we are to hold to any form of sola scriptura (or Protestant prima scriptura), we must hold that God guided the selection of the Canon. Special pleading for the moment of ratification is not acceptable in my mind (it was also not suggested by Pearse) and so more precisely we must hold that God guided the selection of the Canon historically, in the period of about four-hundred years from the birth of Jesus of Nazareth through the ratification.

So either way God's continuously involved. No special pleading in either case?

No. As I was saying, though, in case two: As the years go by in the Church and the authority of a low degree of separation from the Apostles themselves becomes more and more rare, revelation must go from being passed on in a more oral form to being passed on in a more written form. And so any tradition acknowledged by the Early Church Fathers is simply there as a functional placeholder vehicle of revelation, until the Canon can be ratified, at which point the Scripture alone becomes really necessary for one's relationship to God. Thus God in His divine plan makes sola scriptura the rule of the day. In this mode of thinking of course (as I am arguing it), Tradition itself need not be listened to once the Scripture has been duly established, at least not as much as the Scriptures are to be listened to. I maintain that if this theory is true it is not a simple switch at the point of ratification so much as a gradual switch culminating in ratification. This theory seems to explain the facts quite well, as well, and it has a certain elegance about it that is quite distinct from the inelegant notion that God just sort of 'stepped in' at the writing of the New Testament and later the ratification of the Canon to make sure that they would go okay.

To anyone who knows me it is obvious that I prefer the first theory--

Aha! Papist!

--But for the life of me I cannot rule out the second. So I examine what I believe at any rate to be truly the writings of the Earliest Church, the New Testament. I find myself barraged with excellent points on the parts of Protestant and Catholic persons alike who struggle to define what the heck the 'traditions of men' are. For we're all pretty much agreed, at any rate, that we don't want to be passing on anything that are merely the 'traditions of men.'

I find myself truly unable to actually establish when I read the passages these persons quote of the Earliest Church, what exactly was going on with the relation it had to tradition. And this makes a lot of sense. The Earliest Church was probably more concerned with spreading the Love of Christ, its own doctrinal and pastoral problems (as opposed to ours), not being persecuted to death, and the return of Christ. It did not have time to say, "Hey! I wonder if I'm some kind of sola scriptura or if my traditions constitute Divine revelation that needs none (or less) verification from the Scripture?" Along the way, of course, I pick up lots of information about things like the situation of the Church at Corinth, which was much more theologically complicated than most peoples' systems of thought (even most denominational systems of thought) have a prayer of accounting for.

What I've read of the New Testament for myself, on my own time, by myself or in a group, presents a picture of a Church that's much messier and much less systematic than I'd like. The New Testament does not read as a work of systematic theology, because it isn't one. It almost looks more like a panorama of scenes of a culture, of a living entity, of prophecies and pastoral issues. And the more I stare at the picture (looking at it with an eye at least somewhat biased towards 'plain interpretation' where there I think there is one) the more I realize it doesn't look almost anything like the churches I see today. Liturgically it is rather like the local Catholic Mass has met the Pentecostal service down the street in the messiest way possible. Structurally it's like the structures and formalities of those churches have met in a similarly messy fashion. While this Church might be more in continuity with one of these Churches or the other, it's pretty hard to tell which. (And at any rate, once I'd moved past the question of such identification, I'd still be wondering how to even trust that the Earliest Church got Christ's teachings down effectively anyway, or that the Middle Earliy Church got the Earliest Church's writings...etc.)

So I move on to the next-best source I have, the Middle Early Church. And the persons continue to confuse me there as well. In one instance I read the commentary of two opposed bloggers on a passage from Irenaeus in which he uses the word "tradition" a few times. First I read the Protestant, and he makes some sense. Then I read the Catholic, who makes a bit more sense. Then I read the Irenaeus, and he makes almost no sense, except I get the sense he's using the word tradition in more than one sense. Two senses, if you sense my meaning.

Dangit, bloggers.

And to be honest I haven't even bothered to really look at the Late Early Church. Jerome isn't really of that much help; either he's the first Protestant, or he's a regular Catholic. But it's worth noting that if he's the first Protestant, he's a pretty poor model. He kept on translating the books just like they told him too, even as they noted his objections; he didn't even have the cajones to disobey the authority and not translate the texts he saw as Apocryphal, much less to split from the Church in an effort to return to the church of four-hundred years past. And if he's a regular Catholic (in this case a particularly good one), well, that doesn't really disprove the sola scriptura or prima scriptura theory, but it would seem if anything a mark against the persons mentioned earlier, who dispute the inclusion of the Deuterocanonical books, that scholar or no Jerome translated them over and above his own objections. In any case, it sure does make the ratification of the Canon sound a lot more fun than it did before.

If by fun you mean 'pain.'

Anyway, I'm not sure if I'm entirely settled either way on the question of authority, tradition, and Scripture. I definitely lean to the Catholics' side, if you couldn't tell. But I still haven't addressed entirely the statement that my hypothetical listener may have had at the start: ""We want our church to be more like the Early Church."

It seems as far as starting-points go that our question of Scripture and Tradition is somewhat academic. Since the Earliest Church, the Middle Early Church and the Late Early Church all serve at least for a few years as the vehicle of revelation in either theory, we must study them as our starting points no matter which of our two theories are true. We must still try and figure out where they stood doctrinally. We must try and figure out how they handled pastoral issues. To start finding an answer to our question, we need not tackle the question of authority, Scripture and tradition.

So this whole post was a waste of time?

We ought to acknowledge, however, that in the case that theory #2 is true, we should be prepared to cull any errors made in interpretation of Scripture by the Church Fathers from our theological systems. We ought to be prepared either way, for even a Tradition serving as a mode of revelation independent of its Scripture might have persons who make occasional errors, but in the case of theory #2 we must be especially prepared to cull errors, and to de-centralize teachings of the Early Church that are not readily accessed via the Scripture--for the Scripture in theory #2 represents well what Christians need to know, and supersedes the Early Church. In the case of theory #1 it seems we're probably stuck with just about any official, Traditional pronouncement from before the finalization of the Canon; our only possible way out of any such pronouncement would then be to make the case that it was thoroughly incompatible with the Canon. So maybe the question of our theories, of sola/prima scriptura versus Tradition-as-revelation, is more important than we thought!

But wait, there's more. If we are to establish any sort of continuity of our beliefs and theological systems and pastoral procedures with those of the Early Church, of course the question becomes again more important; we must try and find out what the authority of Tradition is once the Canon is established, because if it has any authority at all on its own we must be, in the degree of its authority, in continuity with it, for it is in that degree of continuity with the Early Church. So again the theories play a vital role. For if theory #1 is correct, we have quite an extension of data to contend with, and we must then figure out when (if ever) it was that the authority of God ceased to be present in the Tradition of the Early Church, which then became the Middle-Ages church. And at any rate if theory #1 is correct we've certainly stuck ourselves with at least a couple hundred years of new data to contend with: This means new councils that have to be respected and adhered to, doctrinally, in addition to the ones held before ratifying the Canon.

So you actually think this seemingly academic question has relevance for real, everyday Christians?

So, I think the question of these two theories is paramount. We can only go so far into our exploration of what the Early Church can say that we must accept, until we tackle the question of that the purpose of its traditions was to begin with. If theory #2 is correct we need only contend, really, with the data of the Scriptures, for they sum up the Fathers and the Liturgy in a way more complete and literal than the way in which Jesus' two Love commandments sum up the Law and the Prophets. But if theory #1 is correct we must sweat what some would rather call the 'small stuff' of councils and doctrines and developments and hundreds of data in the Early Church and beyond, even perhaps believe in things that aren't readily gotten to from the Scriptures. The question of continuity with the Early Church will be determined largely with data that will itself be selected by the question of history, and we must make a choice to believe, hopefully with some basis, as to how God has acted in that history.

Okay. Let's go find this early church!

Are you ready to look for the real Early Church? Do we even know exactly where we're looking?

Getting By

Fr. McBrien is arguing here that the Catholic Church, despite a recent Papal endorsement of the practice, should basically excise Eucharistic adoration from its parishes because it's been taken too far in the past, and 'there is little or no need for extraneous eucharistic devotions' and because with developments in education of laypeople and the Mass in the vernacular, '[t]he Mass itself provides all that a Catholic needs sacramentally and spiritually.' He doesn't come right out and say it, but I'm having difficulty reading anything else into his article aside from a desire, or at least a preference, that Eucharistic adoration be much decreased in scale and popularity, insofar as it has any.

So now we Christians are getting by only on what we need? I'm all for getting what we need spiritually; I'm not for eschewing things because they provide more than what is needed, even if there are potentially adverse effects in the hands of some people. Again, there might be little or no need for 'extraneous eucharistic devotions,' but nothing he's said here really proves that eucharistic adoration is a step backwards for the Church.

The simple fact is that everything in Christianity, even things we need, need to be checked. Heresies are overblown Truths about God; orthodoxy is the Truths in their proper proportion to one another. The Mass itself may be taken too far; indeed it often is, in one direction or another. That's part of the reason there are at least a few dozen rules in place as to how a Mass is to be done in Catholicism. So of course things we don't need should also be checked.

Lest anyone think this is only a Catholic issue: Anything unchecked in Protestant Christianity can easily be taken too far. I caught the movie Saved! on TV the other day. It's a pretty terrible movie in terms of the amount of rampant equivocation and oversimplification on matters of Christian doctrine, moral and otherwise, though there are one or two lessons. And the biggest lesson, honestly, is that we really ought to approach the Inner Workings of the Spirit, or any sort of message a person claims to have gotten from God, with extreme caution and preferably with some kind of structure that can 'check' this message against Truth. Bible study groups and even life groups in churches (Catholic as well as Protestant) need to watch out. Pietism is a perfectly sound spiritual practice so long as it only seeks to de-emphasize the need for systematics and theology proper--not to pretend that we don't need them at all.

And yes, practices like Eucharistic adoration can certainly go too far. I'm not sure if I'm down with the putting-the-host-to-bed deal; Christ may or may not be specially present there, but I personally doubt He really desires such treatment, though to avoid putting words in God's mouth I should say He probably is thankful for the intent, if not the action. But that doesn't mean the practice [of adoration] itself is bad. It seems it has massive potential to unify a community of faith and give the faithful a way of giving more order to their prayer lives. There is much good here, even good that is beyond what is classifiable as 'need.' And yet, in a Church whose very moral standards are tied up with seeking the Good beyond what we merely 'need,' we have priests calling this seeking of greater good a 'doctrinal, theological, and spiritual step backward.' Pending more evidence from Fr. McBrien that this practice is more regularly excessive than demonstrated so far, I'm going to strongly disagree that 'it is difficult to speak favorably about the devotion today.'

I am not (at present, at least) a Catholic, but what I find difficult to speak favorably of: This article.

This is by no means not the only doctrinal issue raised by the article, but the other major one in my mind is much more Catholicism-specific and I do not feel qualified to address it.

Hat tip goes to the Curt Jester.

[Brackets indicate later edits from 09-10-09. Other indicators will indicate later edits, if there are any. To date nothing has been changed in wording or deleted; addition has been the only change.]

[[Label changed to include Christianity in Pop Culture.]]

Notes on 1 Corinthians

I made some notes on 1 Corinthians the other day; the run roughly chapter 12 to 15. Note that my question about a controversial and possibly sexist interpretation of a certain verse is more about the issue of changing interpretations, especially since here we have a case of the plainest interpretation of a verse being patently ignored by many denominations and church groups in Christianity, even many of those who claim to hold to the plain interpretation of Scripture. Why?

Notes on 1^st Corinthians

1 Cor. 11:25

“Mass” verse / Paschal Mystery?

“For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes”

1 Cor 12:13

“For we were all baptized by [with, in] one Spirit into one body—whether Jews of Greeks, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.”

Q: Does “one body” mean organizational unity was God's plan?

Q: Is baptism a vehicle for the unity described?

Q: Is baptism the way of entry into the community of faith?

1 Cor. 12:8-10

list of gifts through the Spirit:

• the message of wisdom

• the knowledge of wisdom

• healing

• miraculous powers

• prophecy

• distinguishing between spirits

• speaking in different kinds of tongues [languages]

• interpretation of tongues

1 Cor. 14:16-17

Tongues are useless w/o interpretations

Q: Does this passage imply that those around you ought to be able to understand you when you pray, or at least your meaning?

Q: If so, what are the implications for things like Latin Masses?

1 Cor. 14:34

“women should remain silent in the churches...”

• All churches (okay, most) ignore this recommendation

• Q: Why?

1 Cor. 15:19

“If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are to be pitied more than all men.”

• It seems the resurrection of the faithful was pretty important to the early Church

• Q: Why, then, do so many theologians keep downplaying it?

On 15:35-41

Does this tie to G.K.C. in an undisclosed way? TMWWT?

So That's One Sheep...

A theological story. I should note that this was conceived during a conversation with Mike Schmitz under the influence of a Chesterton conference and is not, is not, is not an attack on Calvinism. It is a story which attempts to use Calvinist doctrines, both older and newer, as a mode of exploration for other theological ideas. There has been one innovation, or renovation, made to the Calvinist doctrines, and this has been made so that I might avoid the story being an actual attack on Calvinism rather than an attack on something much more vile.

That said, though in some ways this story may attack, and some ways defend, Calvinism, it should be taken that it is largely neutral on the subject, or intended to be, while I am largely against the subject, but more in its content than in its intentions or reminders. If as the Catholics claim, Calvinism really is a sort of heresy, it has as much to teach us as any other heresy, and more than a good many of them. Here's the story. Comments are welcome.

So That's One Sheep...

There were once two Calvinists. Each knew his doctrine quite well—what it was at least, and between them they could get to it from the Scriptures. It happens that they attended the same church—Jerusalem Church, in a small nonexistent town in the northwest. In this town most persons found themselves Calvinists, Catholics, or Calvinists who really were Catholics (excepting their hope in the perseverance of the saints.)

Now we must note that the proper start of our tale is the day of judgment, on which the two were brought in to give accounts of themselves. They did not know why, but it seemed God's good pleasure that they be brought in together. The first stepped forward. He was sad, wasted; a piece of modern art composed entirely of skin and bones. He looked at once hopeless and repentant, and barely made eye contact with the Judge as he spoke. “Sir. It is with great regret that I inform you that I am almost certainly damned. I know what Your teaching is—that those who are not among the elect shall have no experiences of conversion, that they shall not be affected whatsoever by taking communion, or by their baptism.

“I know for a fact, then, that I am not among the elect, not among the predestinate. I have always felt rushes of emotion whenever old friends and family came to visit me, and always felt inflamed with passion when I saw the ugliest bee resting on the prettiest flowers. But I have never felt anything or had any experience in receiving the bread and juice, and sensed nothing at my baptism. And indeed, even when I came to believe that Jesus Christ was Lord of my Life, I...I felt nothing.

“If Your hands are not truly bound by these laws You laid down, I should ask you to have mercy on me, though I should certainly not deserve it and have no right to expect it.”

The Judge nodded somberly and then turned to face the other man, who had aged well. He looked peaceful, at least mostly, and well-dressed, the opposite in physical health of the other. The Judge motioned for the other Calvinist to speak. “Sir,” he said, “It is with joy that I can stand before you in the hope of rising again. Like the other man I know Your teachings. I can recall with what rush of joy I came to believe in Jesus Christ, and with what passion I found myself dunked in the river, three times in a row. I can recall how when I first took the bread and juice I felt not damned, but elect, and felt then and there assured that I would be a persevering saint, because I had realized I was a sinner.

“So I ask You, O Lord, to please have mercy on this sinner as well, though I also have no right to expect it and, certainly, do not deserve it.”

The Judge again nodded somberly, the same curious nod as before. He looked back and forth between the two and then made a motion with his fingers—what terrible fingers!--And in walked Gabriel.

Gabriel was many-winged, and quite incomprehensible to the two men. He was, as they knew, a messenger, to a poor woman who had been the container for the Lord, and now he was to be the most terrible messenger of all.

Gabriel looked at the two men, his many eyes making contact with each of them at once, disorienting them over and over as he spoke. He turned first to the well-aged man. “I have some bad news. The first is that you will not be entering Heaven—well, not right now, anyway. You see, you in your assured Elect-ness neglected to do much of anything at all for the church, except sing on the worship team from time to time, and serve communion once a month. This might seem like a lot, but how much time did you really spend seeking the Truth, and seeking to live it out on days besides Sundays, and in particular to bring the Truth to the poor and unfortunate among you? Pardon the potential pun, but who in hell do you think you are to avoid such tasks? Your Pastor did not use such lofty language, but he continually told you to search the Scriptures for the truth or falsity of his words, preached painfully from the Book of James about the persecuting rich, and was always exhorting the congregation to practice what was being preached. You did this to some degree, but you almost always neglected, neglected, neglected throughout the week to serve God in what you did. Or need I remind you of the countless female secretaries and coworkers whose backsides were carefully examined, or the countless homeless people outside of your office building who were not only ignored financially, but also ignored when they simply wanted to say 'good morning'? As you did unto the least of these!

“Yes, your sins are many, and like this other man's they should under a less merciful God disqualify you from entry into the Promised Land. But if anything disqualifies you it is the overarching sin, that you, ultimately, did not seek to love and serve the Lord.”

The Elect man gulped. “There is good news, however. Your queer group of people called Calvinists was quite wrong about Purgatory. It does exist. You see there is a special subclass of persons in the class of the Elect which God chooses, by His own good pleasure, to send to a special sub-heaven, above-hell sort of place where they will have to rely on the prayers and mercy of others—all predestined for their benefit, of course. And when their time there is complete they may join the other Elect in heaven. But their placement in this purgatory is, really, just for the further appreciation of those already in heaven of the fact that it was God's good pleasure to predestine them to be elect, and to serve God, not just to be Elect.”

Upon this note a trap-door opened underneath the Elect man, and he disappeared rather rapidly into it. Then Gabriel turned to face the damned man. “As for you...You are saved, though you are quite an idiot.”

The face of skin and bones brightened.

“You served the Lord your God with all the heart, soul and mind and strength you could possibly muster, though you believed He had condemned you to an eternity in hell. But you served anyway—you served the poor, you served the rich, you served businessmen who were trying to push past you to get a breakfast burrito at some city stand. You were there visiting Him in prison, handing him breakfast on the sidewalk, not by your own works but because from the beginning you were elect. You served them all as if they were The Lord, and served them well—you took the Pastor's mandate to love literally (the best sort of literalist). And so you have done well, good and faithful servant. Would you like to know how many souls you seem to have helped along the way, in all? There were around three-hundred that you led more directly, and around thirty-thousand that you made straight paths into.

“As I said you were, however, an idiot. You somehow took this notion of conversion experience to mean conversion feeling. I fully admit that we up in heaven have been trying to get the message to Christians for years that they ought to stop talking about conversion experiences and start talking about conversion history, to avoid this nasty and awful overtone of emotion, but you still could've done your part, and realized that perhaps even though you felt nothing on taking communion, nothing on baptism, and nothing on realization that Jesus Christ was Lord, it was still a realization. That loving and serving the Lord day in and day out as you did, though you had no hope of Resurrection yourself, must have still meant that you were in some sense saved, in some sense converted—which as we of course know could not happen unless you were called. Therefore, unfortunately, you did propagate the untruth of the 'conversion experience' wherever you went even as you propagated the Truth of Christ, and propagate the untrue notion that you yourself were unsaved, though you were. But it seems it is God's good pleasure to strike this particular blemish out of you without the pain of being put into that special class of Elect to which the Elect man now belongs. Congratulations, and well done, good and faithful servant!”

“Thank you, s--” At this point a similar trap-door to that below the elect man sprung open, but it seemed that in this case the floor-boards had a spring, not a drop, below them, and the springing-board propelled the mess of skin and bones upward.

Gabriel turned to the Judge, exasperated. “I swear—well, I don't swear, but I do wonder, Father. Will they ever get it, really?”

Discuss, #1: The Didache

Explanation for this post is found here. Short version: Discuss the linked page (and relevant things, though I don't particularly care if it gets derailed), and here if you've got anywhere near the time. Now begins the post.

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Check out this Didache. According to Wikipedia, it's a seriously awesome book of rules and instructions for the Early Church, in terms of structure of the communion ritual, and moral instruction. Also, baptism. It seems to draw quite furiously and fervently upon several moral instructions available, invoking litanies of things that could prove problematic for believers. In short, it's quite strict--though not uncharitable, in my estimation.

MY question is: "Is there anything about the Didache that is unbiblical, aside from its not being part of the Christian Scripture? If so, how is it unbiblical?"

Again, feel free not to discuss the above question if there's another one you wish to pose and/or answer. I for my part will be rereading the thing before I make my own comment (and add it to the conversation.) If for some reason someone should desire their contributions to be anonymous they need only e-mail me and make this request, or post anonymously. I also plan on adding things said by people on Facebook, if anything is.

Discuss.

A Heralding of a New Type of Post

I'm going to start doing a thing here where I attempt to start a peculiar event known as a conversation. Using a Wikipedia article. Please do feel free to contribute. I shall cite a Wikipedia article and attempt to either comment on the subject myself or provide someone else's hopefully better comment on the subject. I was moved to do this now so that I could do it before Mike Schmitz went to the novitiate and would no longer be able to participate.

I ask that you at least consider, if you saw this on Facebook, responding here and not there; either way I will ask that you permit me the privilege of incorporating your response into the post (or Austin or Mike, should they want to make a post of their own of this type in the future.)

Now the general format will be as follows.

Wikipedia article link.

"Perhaps unwittingly bad quotation regarding subject of Wikipedia article."

Discuss.

After which you are permitted to discuss the subject with or without reference to whatever the heck I just said, because what I just said, as I just said, is likely to have been quite stupid.

This is discussion! It is not debate unless it is made so, but at any rate let it be Christian.

I intend to make these posts at least once a week. I hope I will embarass Austin into productivity and perhaps embarass Mike into posting one before he disappears into formation. Stay tuned! This post will come next in the line of Dan Lower postings.

In Which I Attempt Latin Translations

And in which I will also be scoring myself and giving an approximate success percentage! This will be fun.

I recently found on the Vatican's website a whole lot of stuff. Like Papal Encyclicals, including the first and second encyclicals from Pope Benedict XVI, and now the third. (I honestly somehow seem to have missed #2, but I can't complain too much because I haven't read any of them, or any encyclical ever, actually. I'm planning to remedy that soon.) At any rate...

I've gone through the list of encyclicals for Pope John Paul II and made my guesses as to what their titles mean. Note that the titles for encyclicals are generally taken to be the first...clause, I think, that appears in them. Anyway, for each encyclical I will give the Latin title, followed by my guess at the English, followed by the translation implied by whatever I can find in the Encyclical's intro section in its English translation on Vatican.va. I will then proceed to assign each of my guesses an accuracy of 0 to 2. 0 means I'm totally off, 1 means I attained about half-accuracy and 2 means either an equivalency or very close thereto.

Some of you may recall I used to do this in church, except it was trying to guess what the pastor was going to say according to his sermon note outline--I called it the "Sermon Note Guessing Game." But here it will be called "Translate that Encyclical."

Ecclesia de Eucharistia - Church of the Eucharist
Actual title: Okay, apparently I'm wrong about the whole "first clause of the letter" thing, BUT what I'm reading here is making it clear that it's an encyclical on the relationship of the Eucharist to the Church. Since I'm fairly certain "on the relationship of the Eucharist to the Church" is not the translation of "Ecclesia de Eucharistia" I'm going to give myself full marks on this one.
2/2

Fides et Ratio - Faith and Reason
Pretty sure from this that I've got this one right.
2/2

Ut Unum Sint - Something Unity Something
It's becoming clear that I got the unity part right. Unfortunately, I missed the other parts. Christian Unity--I should have guessed!
0/2

Evangelium Vitae - Life of Evangelism
Well, I think I got this one wrong. It really is about pro-life-ness; whatever it's about isn't actually the life of evangelism. :p
0/2

Veritatis Splendor - Splendor of Truth
I had some help on this one, because the Catholic blogger Jeff Miller, the "Curt Jester", seen in that link making an awesome commentary on who the new encyclical is for, named his website splendoroftruth.com. Evidence that I got it right can be found here.
2/2

Centesimus Annus - Annual Census?
I was off on this one too. It's actually on the hundredth anniversary of the social gospel encyclical known as Rerum Novarum. I don't know what that means, either.
0/2

Redemptoris Missio - Redemptive Mission?
"The mission of Christ the redeemer" begins the letter as noted here, and its sub-title makes it clear we're talking about the Great Commission. I'm going to give myself one point for this.
1/2

Sollicitudo Rei Socialis - Soliciting the Social King?
"The social concern of the church" leads off this one. Sub-title makes it clear that we're dealing with another anniversary encyclical. I got "social" right but I missed everything else.Evidence here. No points.
0/2

Redemptoris Mater - Redemptive Mother?
"The mother of the redeemer"! So close! I guess I now take a higher Mariology than the Catholic Church. In case that made anyone uncomfortable, I'm seriously just kidding. But seriously--so close!
1/2

Dominum et Vivificantem - Dominion and Life?
Seems to be more about the life of faith than dominion and life. So nothing environmental here, so much.
0/2

Slavorum Apostoli - Apostolic Slavery!
Apparently it's actually about the "Apostles of the Slavs." Who knew?
0/2

Laborem Exercens - Exerting in Labor
It's about human work. See evidence here if you disbelieve me. I'm going to count this as a one-pointer.
1/2

Dives in Misericordia - Divas in Misery
"God who is rich in mercy" quoted from Ephesians 2:4 leads this one. I'm afraid "Divas in Misery" was nowhere near as close as I might have liked...
0/2

Redemptor Hominis - Redeemer of humanity
"The Redeemer of Man" opens up this encyclical. Since whenever John Paul II or pretty much any other Pope says "man" and you're not sure they mean "male" they probably mean "humanity" I'm going to give myself full marks on this one. Good to end on a high note. I'm also fairly certain I've heard the translation somewhere, but I can't place it.
2/2

THE FINAL SCORE
11/26 points! I'm not going to lie, for what mostly consisted of random guesses from a guy who knows very little Latin (church or otherwise), I don't feel too awful about that score.

Worship Songs

Okay! This post is mostly about contemporary worship (by which I mean the stuff you hear that sounds kind of jazzy or bluesy or rock-influenced in church) but I believe lots of the cautions and concerns are also present and relevant in the context of, say, picking the correct hymn for an old-school Baptist church or the correct Alleluia for a Catholic Parish during Lent...

Just kidding, there are no Alleluias in a Catholic Parish during Lent. But that still applies any other time of year.

Disclaimers

I'm going to be picky and talk about audible, musical worship. That is, songs, especially songs intended to be sung in a Christian religious tradition by large numbers of people in reverence and reference to the Divine. This has of course been done by me in the past, but not here! I should note here: Anything you listen to on your free time? That's not my business or the business of many, if any, theologians. The content of the music as far as I'm concerned is subject to as rigorous a theological review as you see fit, but if you find yourself concerned about what a song is teaching you, it's highly recommended that you do do some review with respect to the author's intent and the spiritual effect it has on you to contemplate and sing those words. But here is a different story. I am discussing the content of songs put up for use by some kind of parish or congregation. That is, lyrics (and music) that a congregation will be singing and/or contemplating in the course of any kind of officially sanctioned worship-event, ranging from the Catholic mass to the Protestant youth-group worship night. I am assuming without proof that the acts of all worship leaders, music arrangers, liturgists, etc., are being carried out with the honest intent and good faith effort of drawing people closer to God. As such, their intent is not on trial here and neither are they. I am discussing the standards I am coming to hold in part of personal preference but also of the effect I think it might have, spiritually, on the persons doing the singing or hearing what is being sung and played!

My Perhaps Unreasonable or Badly-Reasoned Beliefs

1. Contemporary worship should avoid musical things which do little but distract from contemplation or audible worship of God. This is partly a subjective thing and the individual worshiper's experience will vary! But essentially I believe that any group of worship leaders, whether instrumentalists or singers, ought to be able to say that they are, in intent and effect, pointing people to God with their worship. This applies to Latin-mass choirs and teenagers with guitars alike.* If something, through no fault of the congregants, is causing them consistently to become overly distracted from worship and contemplation, then something is wrong. In my subjective experience this tends to include any guitar solo longer than four bars, or vocalists who drag out or syncopate vocal lines in completely unnecessary and hard-to-sing fashions.

2. Contemporary worship should avoid theological things which plant bad messages in the minds of congregants. First and foremost this means avoid heresy. This isn't that hard to do. Just keep a copy of the Nicene Creed with you when you examine the songs you're singing, and if something seems fishy when you put it against that, don't use it! It is also my belief that as a matter of taste, if not responsibility, the worship a given congregation is asked to sing or even to listen to ought to reflect the theological teachings of the church it is sung in. That is, a Wesleyan church ought not to sing hymns which teach on sovereignty to the detriment of the concept of man's free will, and a Calvinist church should not be singing hymns which really speak of human choice. This paragraph ties with #3, which is that...

3. Contemporary worship should avoid things which confuse the congregation on a spiritual level. This includes to my mind putting an excess emphasis on feeling with respect to God. This is dangerous because in one's relationship with God as in all others, feelings tend to come and go, and love needs to be based on something greater than how we 'feel' about or with God; there ought to be a basis in Truth and love, and a conscious choice to serve our God. All we have to do to see what happens when we think about God in terms of just our feelings is look at this graph:

Okay, so that was probably just a little bit darkly humored for my purposes. But frankly, having seen it happen to others and having had it happen (in part) to me, I cannot stress this enough: I have very little tolerance for music and worship practices that place significant importance on how one "feels" about one's relationship with God. I have learned the hard way that feelings aren't always trustworthy. That doesn't mean they aren't ever to be used as a guide, but they are not the guide and music presenting them as a key component of worship is not tolerable to me.

This does not mean I would ever push for an elimination of emotion or feeling from worship. I have enjoyed passionate worship sessions like many of the other people in the Church that I know; I have known how it feels to be kind of "high on the Spirit." It's a good feeling. But sometimes we get those experiences without the qualification that one's feelings are not the ultimate measure of one's relationship with God, via the music, the way the music is used, or the pulpit. And that does in my mind constitute a theological and pastoral problem.

4. The emotional-worship tack links to the notion of the "Jesus is my boyfriend" song: the songs which seem to provide little indication that they are really addressed to God rather than to one's significant other. Truth be told I am sure there is much to be had in the God-as-lover analogy, but sometimes there isn't enough clarification given of who, exactly, the congregation is singing to.

5. This is more of an "ought" than a "what's wrong." Songs ought to express some truth about God. Some kind of capital-T Truth. It need not be the majority of the song, even, but something. This is partly a personal-taste thing, as a "what You've done for me" sort of song is in my book perfectly acceptable technically, at least in certain settings, even if it only conveys the minimum of theology implied in that statement. But it still ought to convey some Truth, and I generally prefer that it provide at least opportunity for a meditation on that Truth for persons like myself who, for partially subjective reasons, do not necessarily appreciate emotionally charged worship as much anymore.

What Contemporary Worship Songs Do Do

Well, there is one thing that they definitely do do correctly. They get people involved in singing. And in large amounts they get people involved in singing the Truth, and to the Truth. They're catchy, and they're easy enough to sing that even the most horrid of voices can join with the angelic choirs. This in my mind does constitute a good place for grace to work. I should note that many of the worship songs I have heard, sung, and contemplated, from various settings of worship, didn't have any of the problems I've described in writing or in execution; while I am not sure where the majority lies, it does speak well of the liturgists and worship leaders I have experienced that the definite majority of these songs that I have experienced have been in writing and in execution theologically and pastorally sound. That is my subjective experience and it may not be the same as yours, but in this post I have highlighted some things I think could be done better in contemporary worship music; it was only fair, if not a demand of Christian charity, that I note my overwhelmingly positive personal experience.

In conclusion, I do not think that doing better would necessarily involve changing it to be totally not-what-it-is in any and all circumstances. I think rather that this would involve smoothing off theological and pastoral rough-edges, making sure that the message sent in lyric and music and presentation is sound. This obviously looks different depending on the exact Christian tradition, but I believe it to be a worthwhile project, and one that would lend a greater coherence and consistency to the church.

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* If a Protestant youth-group teenager finds himself at a Latin mass, or a Catholic youth-group leader usually adjusted to said Mass finds himself listening to youth guitar-and-drums worship on a Wednesday night, and they are distracted, it is not necessarily the choice of music or language that is here at fault. Obviously part of the responsibility is assigned to the worshiper to make necessary adjustments to an environment in which they choose to worship; that is, it is their responsibility to adjust to those elements which they find distracting. It is also their responsibility to make sure that if they are in more participation-based (youth group) or more contemplation-based settings (sung Latin mass, but that may be so to me mostly due to my not knowing Latin), that these settings will help them worship, rather than distract.

Three Positions on Salvation

First let me thank Victor Reppert for the excellent link to the first explanation of Exclusivism, Inclusivism and Pluralism, the one with the questions I've used here. I should also thank Ben Schwarting for being the guy who wrote those excellent questions.

Warning: this is a large post. Please don't let that turn you off from reading it, but don't necessarily expect to finish it in one sitting.

The explanation is here, and features several interesting questions for each viewpoint. An alternative explanation of the topics being discussed can be found at Theological Studies. Both pages discuss the three basic positions on salvation as they pertain to Christianity.

If you don't want to hit any of those links (I'd recommend at least the first one; the second gives a better sense of where and how the theological/philosophical currents run) here's the basic rundown:

Exclusivism in a particular religion is the position that said religion's truth is superior to that of all others, and must be arrived at explicitly in order for 'salvation' (I use the word that is prevalent in Christian circles, thus it is quotation-marked, in recognition of the fact that transcendence or the successful seeking of Ultimate Reality is not thought of as 'salvation' in all religions) to take place.

Inclusivism is the position that said religion's truth is superior to that of all others, but does not have to be accepted explicitly in order for 'salvation' to take place.

Pluralism is the position that said religion is but one of many paths that are equal, or roughly equal, in terms of potential for 'salvation' and the successful seeking of an Ultimate Reality.

So a Christian exclusivist and inclusivist both believe that Jesus is a necessity for salvation; they disagree as to the exact mode of reception required on the part of an individual. A Christian pluralist believes that Jesus is not actually a necessity for salvation. Obviously, the beliefs and sentiments of particular individuals are a tad too fluid to fit neatly into these three categories, but they are helpful in providing a basic characterization of a given individual or religious group's stances.

So I will now attempt to answer the questions found on the first link for each viewpoint. Note that these questions assume we are working theologically, within Christianity; therefore they are discussed, well, with respect to Christ!

Exclusivism
For several years of my life I was in this camp, and so I will probably be second-most-faithful in answering questions about exclusivism. I hope that A. Scott takes the opportunity to answer these questions as well, and possibly let me know if I have misrepresented the Calvinist viewpoint at any turn.

1) What about those who have not heard the gospel of Christ?

The book of Romans says that all persons are without excuse for failing to give glory to God (1:20-21) and in my understanding, in exclusivist circles the common interpretation of this passage is that the truths necessary for salvation have all been made available to all men; logically it seems that this must extend to, at the very least, the truth of a savior who died for one's sins. I had a conversation once with an exclusivist who stipulated that for someone who had not heard explicitly of Christ to be saved, they would have to know that someone had died for them. And he seemed to believe the truth was self-evident.

Following that, the best answer is that God's justice is above our own, God's ways above our own; therefore, even if the answer is “they are damned,” it is not for us to question; there is a higher justice at work that we do not know.

2) What about those who have wanted to believe, longed for faith, greatly sought after God, and yet have never received the light, inward peace, or assurance of forgiveness?

I find the qualifier of inward peace kind of odd for Christianity. However, the 'light'--which I assume means the ability to believe—does pose an interesting question. The best answer I can give is that they ought to believe to the best of their ability.

Now for circles where a conversion experience is considered essential for someone to be considered 'saved,' the picture gets a little more complicated. In Calvinism or other circles accepting foreordination, one might simply have to answer that the person is not among the elect. Though I stress that election and the predestinate are by no means concepts exclusive to Calvinism, this response does still bring with it all the problems associated with Calvinism. In Methodism or other circles accepting free will, the answer may be a similarly awkward "well, I guess you're not saved, then," and brings all the equivalent problems for free-will standpoints.

Note that I would hold that if one's particular brand of exclusivism does not hold to necessity of a conversion experience or 'enlightening' experience, one is free to believe that a will to believe can stand in for belief even when one's ability to maintain a faith is severely limited.

3) Does the doctrine that ‘salvation is only possible through Jesus Christ’ stay consistent with the belief that God wants all to be saved?

Yes, absolutely. There is nothing inconsistent about these two beliefs held concurrently. There's not much of an answer to this question except to say that I don't really see where the supposed inconsistency is. The Great Commission, which tells us to go out and “make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:16-20, New American Bible, italics mine), seems the natural biblical countertext for such a claim of inconsistency.

4) Is it true that in the end times, God’s grace will triumph completely and all will come to a faith in Christ?

That's a good question, but I'm not sure if it's relevant to exclusivism alone. In terms of eschatology, especially if speaking as best I can on exclusivists' behalf, I am sort of forced to answer yes; it seems impossible for God to truly win in any manner even close to that described in the Revelation (yes, it's singular!), there's going to have to be a big reveal that Christ is truly God. This leaves us either to the askwardness of people coming to a knowledge of God when it is too late for them to be saved (a problem faced by most Christian soteriology, I would venture), or the awkwardness of having turned a faithful logical implication of Revelation into universal reconciliation. So this really creates problems for exclusivists and inclusivists alike.

5) Is it true that Christ must be acknowledged as Lord and Savior in this life, or otherwise those that don’t will be condemned to Hell? If yes, then how can you reconcile that with the biblical view of a God of love?

In traditional exclusivism, to say the least, it is my understanding that the answer for part (a) is yes. The answer for part (b) runs along the same lines as the answer to question 1, in particular the paragraph beginning with “Following that...”, with the addition that just as we do not know as well as God what justice means, we will not know as well as God what is meant by love.

Inclusivism
I will be able to answer these questions most effectively, as my current position is a somewhat exclusive inclusivism (though it is based in part on things not common to all exclusivists.)

1) What about those who do not cling to any faith? If they lead a good life, are they saved through the ‘unknown Christ’ as well?

See the answer to question two.

Regarding viewpoints not mine, I would find it difficult to conceive someone who I would not say is in any sense seeking the Ultimate Reality even though they are striving to live the 'good life.'

2) Where are the boundaries? What determines a religion that ‘saves’, and one which does not? Or should we just look at elements within each faith? If so, which elements?

For my personal view, these two questions are sort of the same, because I guess I don't place the definition of what it means to be an anonymous Christian on whether the person has been raised in the correct religion; rather I look at it in terms of the individual's faith. Have they accepted what of the truth has been revealed to them, or at least put themselves on the road to doing so? Are they truly seeking the truth, such that if missionaries (and I mean good missionaries, mind you) came, they would be open to the message? Leading a good life plays into things insofar as good works play into any Christian's salvation: they are to say the least a sign of the inner workings of the heart even from the perspective of faith alone; thus the individual in question might not lead a perfect life, and in certain respects (for not all the moral code of Christianity is equally intuitive) more excusable for a non-Christian than a Christian, much moreso a non-Christian who has not been exposed to the fullness of the Truth. So in my view, I suppose the thing depends primarily on openness to God. Now for those who "do not cling to any faith" as the question asks, it would work similarly, as a function of the openness of their hearts to God.

3) What is the importance of missionaries if people can be saved through other faiths?

The answer to this is twofold. First, the Great Commission commands that we make disciples of all nations. It seems to be a fairly clear commandment, and commandments from the Incarnate Logos are pretty hard to ignore. So that's the first response.

The second response comes from my personal reasoning on the matter. We have two options, A and B. (In both of these responses, since the question works on "if people can be saved through other faiths," I am assuming inclusivism.) In option A, Ted is saved in the afterlife because he meets whatever criterion he must meet under exclusivism, even though he does not believe explicitly in Jesus Christ. But his understanding of the truth, even his ability to live fully as intended by the Divine, is hindered in this life. In option B, Joe is saved in the afterlife because he meets explicit criterion that would satisfy even a staunch exclusivist (explicit acceptance of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.) But in this case Ted has access, at least more ready access if not more access, to the fullness of truth and the full experience of the Divine. In other words, it's a case of earthly searching (however joyful it might be) and heavenly salvation versus earthly salvation and heavenly salvation. What is the greatest good for Ted?

Of course it's option B! If we can bring him Jesus now, we ought to do so!

There also may be persons who might not meet the inclusivist criteria for salvation and have never heard of Jesus. The role of a missionary in their lives might be so vital as to be used by God to change a soul's course from the path to hell to the path to heaven, in whole or even in part. In other words, missionaries still fill a massive need with respect to those souls that may not have been ultra-inclined to seek the Divine in the first place.

The importance of missionaries is to take the commandment of the Great Commission seriously, and bring people to Jesus, whether that means bringing them to Jesus sooner or bringing them to Jesus period.

Pluralism

This is easily going to be the hardest one for me to cover, as it's not a perspective I've ever really held, at least not in full and for very long. I kind of wish I could be one at times; I feel like it would make religion easier to embrace, in a sense.

1) What about faiths which have no place for a god, such as Advaitin Hinduism, or Therevada Buddhism – how do they lead to God?

All religions reflect the same Ultimate Reality; they simply reflect it differently. So there's no real difficulty in saying a given religion 'leads to God' because it's a reflection thereof. Therefore even in non-theistic religions or religions not including a personal God, there are still ideals set forth and paths to follow that lead the person closer to the Divine ethically, and more in tune with the Divine as it is expressed in themselves and others.

2) Is it possible to find salvation through something which is not true, even though it seems to satisfy its followers?

On this earth, it's not necessarily possible to find salvation proper on this earth, through things that are not true--but from a pluralist perspective it's not that it isn't true; it's just one more subjective interpretation of the same truth, a great Ineffability that we do not in this life know directly--even though some religions interpret it personally and others impersonally, it is still the same reality interpreted. Therefore in a sense all religions become true and all also become false; they all reflect the Truth, but they all reflect it falsely. So it is possible to find salvation through something which is not true; else we've gone straight from universal reconciliation to universal damnation (which I, speaking in these parentheses as a non-pluralist, would be forced to admit isn't totally unjust!). But this seems to eliminate part of the point of pluralism, which is to reconcile God's desire for salvation for all with the fact of many different religions and cultures, and many different individuals who seem to have no real control over the early formations of their religious beliefs.

3) Is a pluralist a Christian, or just a God-believer?

It depends on how you define Christian. Here I am working, as I have implied, from John Hick's idea of pluralism, which advocates in a sense the idea that all religions are simply cultural reflections of the same Ulimate Reality. So pluralist definitely believes in God, or at least in some Ultimate Reality that humanity is striving for. But the pluralist also believes that in their search, they themselves must follow Jesus--that the path for Christians is to take up one's cross and follow. So I would say a pluralist can indeed be a Christian, but only if their understanding of their religion includes following Jesus. Note that I am not claiming a pluralist is an orthodox Christian; I don't really buy that so much. But I do think there's a sense in which they can still be following Jesus.

4) Does the bible have any relevance to a pluralist? Is biblical truth only relevant for those who believe in that faith, and other faiths have other truths?

Everyone's truth is relevant to everyone's faith--we need to look at all the ways in which the Ultimate Reality is interpreted throughout the world and come to the best possible conclusions as to what the truest reflection ultimately is. (Pun intended.) It seems as though the basic truths that can be gathered this way are ethical; but what to do when the ethics of one faith run up against the ethics of another? I suppose the only real answer is to talk it out and try and figure out what is in the best interest of service to the Ultimate Reality, and argue for one's own faith only when one truly believes is in this best interest.

Conclusion
Whoohoo. That was a monster of a post. I know it took me like, three weeks since I've told some of you, maybe more like a month and a half, but there it is. Three questionnaires about sin and salvation answered from the perspectives of three different approaches in soteriology, to the best of my ability. All three have varying sub-perspectives, and I'm inviting the other people who might read this to comment and offer some ideas about what perspectives they take on the issue of salvation; I'm particularly interested in seeing people who consider themselves to fall into one of these camps and take a perspective different from the one I assumed when working from these camps; I am especially interested in other inclusivists who do not take inclusivism to be the same that I take it.

A Funny Bit of Dialogue from Awhile Ago

Xeirxes: Hi.
KKairos: Hey. What is up.
Xeirxes: Not much, Went to church and had to work in the nursery :-\
KKairos: Heh. Mixed blessing it sounds like.
Xeirxes: Heh, I’m not complaining really. The kids are great.
KKairos: Ah. That's good.
Xeirxes: Plus, complaining is a sin :)
KKairos: They taught you that complaining is inherently sinful? Or just that it leads that direction. ?
Xeirxes: Well, complaining is sinful depending on the context of course. Complaining about your arm bleeding is probably a good thing.
KKairos: Heh.
Xeirxes: Complaining about how hard you think your work is just causes strife.
KKairos: True.
Xeirxes: Or, complaining about a person. Or a situation. It says in Phillipians, "do all things without grumbling."
KKairos: I would say venting about a person can be okay, but it has to be watched [b/c] it very easily turns to gossip. yeah
Xeirxes: True, I don't mind talking about a person's attitude too much, as long as it doesn't become gossip