Book Review--The Way to Heaven: The Gospel According to John Wesley by Steve Harper

Randall G. Hardman. Review of Steve Harper, The Way to Heaven, The Gospel According to John Wesley (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2003).

There is a coherent and foundational theology that lies behind the framework of the Holiness Churches of Methodism, Wesleyanism, and Nazareneism. It is the oft-ignored theology of John Wesley (1703-1791). I found it worthwhile to provide a review of Steve Harper’s excellent book The Way to Heaven: The Gospel According to John Wesley.

The Way to Heaven is a book for layman about a layman theologian. This is not to say that Wesley was a layman that had a hobby of theologizing. Developing critical and well-founded theology was his life and profession. Rather, as Harper emphasizes repeatedly, he was a practical theologian and a fellow pilgrim. He was not a systematic theologian or an armchair theologian—he was one for the people. This fact sets the tone for the rest of the book. Unlike many other theologians, Wesley is one that the reader feels comfortable with from the start.

Establishing this fact in chapter one, Harper continues on to deal with several of Wesley’s main topics of interest: original sin, prevenient grace, converting grace, transformation, growing in grace, perfectionism, glorification, and the Church. A correct understanding of these topics leads one to a correct understanding of who Christ is and what Christianity is all about.

For Wesley, the doctrine of original sin could not be forgotten from true evangelism. What good was it to call for repentance if there was nothing that actually separated us from God in the first place? God loves man supremely and it is because of this love that he did not leave us to the overwhelming destruction that sin has on every aspect of our reality. As Harper notes, “At its base, sin is broken relationship”(23). But, as Harper notes, Wesley “never spoke of sin’s nature or its effects without speaking of the remedy” (28). Harper title for the chapter, “Original Sin”, was a little misleading, for while Wesley spoke of original sin with conviction, the chapter highlights Wesley’s thoughts on sin in general. Continuous sin is, of course, a result of original sin, but we cannot speak of them as one in the same. They are different, for one emphasizes how we came to fall into captivity and the other emphasizes what we continue to do in captivity. But other than this slight misrepresentation of the topic in question, Harper does an excellent job illustrating where humans are and why we need the grace that is to follow in later chapters.

Prevenient Grace and Converting Grace cannot and should not be confused, for they represent the heart of the redemption process. Prevenient Grace, according to Harper, is the “starting point” (33) of salvation. It is God’s “prior and sustained action in our lives” (ibid). Thankfully Harper makes it clear that Wesleyan doctrine does not hold to “complete” freedom of will, as many understand it. Prevenient Grace is what allows us to even remotely see God, but Wesleyanism stands starkly against Calvinism in that it allows for individual free choice in salvation in response to God’s will: “Wesley taught that we can be held accountable only if we have genuine power of choice…through grace we can be truly responsible” (37).

Converting grace, by contrast, is the grace placed inside of us by God that changes and transforms us by knowledge and conviction (44-45), belief and repentance. It is this grace that actually transforms us. Transformation brings forth justification (“what God does for us”), new birth (“what God does in us”), and initial sanctification (“what God begins in us”). This breakdown is one of the highlights of Harper’s work, for it separates and explains these three processes that are often lumped in together or confused with one another. Harper states, “Justification gives us a new standing before God. New birth gives us a new power to deal with sin and live for Christ. And initial sanctification begins the authentic development of Christlike character and provides a base for the Holy Spirit to purify and empower our lives” (61).

Harper’s discussions of growth in grace and Christian perfectionism come next, filling in the linear analysis of Wesleyan theology presented in the book. Harper’s discussion of the former is probably the weakest part of the book for it becomes a little confusing in his outline. Harper’s helpful system of “First…Second…Third…” becomes tangled by several subdivisions that have their own “First…Second…Third…” This does not mean that Harper’s theological summaries of Wesley’s views are confusing in and of themselves—they are simply outlined in a confusing manner.
Whatever one comes away with from this discussion there is no doubt that Harper’s next discussion on Christian perfectionism is one of the pillars of the book. One can hardly approach Wesleyan theology without encountering the idea of Christian perfectionism. Perfectionism, as Harper correctly describes, is often tainted with straw man definitions and ideas. This is usually a misunderstanding of the word “perfect”, but it is important that we know that Wesley never held that Christians could be perfect in actions. Harper notes, “The heart of Christian perfection is in the will, not in one’s actions. Actions vary, while intentions can remain constant” (84).

Another strong point of Harper’s book is in his discussion of glorificationism. Harper does not shy away from the paradox of the kingdom in Wesleyan theology. Wesley believed in a present, but future kingdom—an “already, but not yet” kingdom of God. It is in this context that Harper discusses glorification. Glorification deals with “the way to heaven.” It is, in a word, eternity. Harper notes four things about the kingdom in Wesleyan theology: 1) It is already here; 2) The kingdom is active, not neutral; 3) Not everyone will accept the gospel, though everyone has the opportunity to do so; 4) The positive aspects of the kingdom completely outweigh the negative aspects (salvation over hell). It is in this sense that Harper truly describes consummation as Wesley saw it.

Finally, Harper examines the Christian mission of the Church and the individual. As opposed to some theologians, Wesley did not end with “speculative theology”—he was a “folk theologian” (121), emphasizing that theology is not strictly for armchair theologians but for the common man. It remains useless if the church and the individual do not run themselves as organisms in the body of Christ.
Harper’s analysis of Wesley’s theology is overall a remarkable layman guide to a layman theologian. It turns out to be quite systematic of analyzing his theology working from original sin to glorification and the response of the Church, whereas Wesley was, ironically, non-systematic. I would recommend it to any man, Wesleyan or non-Wesleyan for a quick buffer of his theology. Harper exhibits a mastered knowledge of it and succeeds, through helpful linear organization, in explaining doctrines and dogmas that are often ignored or misrepresented.

Philemon -- Paul's Objection to Slavery

Philemon is one of the most fascinating letters in the New Testament for it truly exhibits not only the theological genius Paul brought to the table but his care for social justice in the context of evangelism. It is a letter written specifically to Paul’s friend and “fellow worker,” Philemon, but it is also written to Apphia, Archipus, and the rest of the congregation. The reason for this becomes clear later on.

Paul’s letter begins with the greeting “Grace and peace to you…” thus emphasizing the Christian-Jewish way of beginning a letter (rather than the common Hellenistic “Greetings”). It is obvious that Paul and Philemon have had a close friendship in the past. His language of “partnership” (v 6, 17) and brotherhood testifies to this. It is because of this closeness that Paul feels comfortable writing to Philemon about the situation: Onesimus, Philemon’s slave, had run away to Paul, had become a Christian, and was going to be sent back. The genius of Paul rings through in this letter as he uses pun and mind games with Philemon in order to assure Onesimus is free. There are four specific tactics used by Paul in this letter:

Paul obviously has some sort of status over Philemon for he says, “…I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do…” (v 8). Paul is probably exercising his apostolic authority over Philemon, not necessarily some social status. Paul had no legal authority to command Philemon to release Onesimus from his slavery. But if, as some have argued, Paul brought Philemon to Christianity, then he had some sort of spiritual status as an apostle and a pastor over him. Paul does not command Philemon to set him free—rather, he implores him through freedom of will: “I prefer to appeal to you on the basis of love” (v 9); “…that I appeal to you for my son…” (v 10); “But I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that any favor you do would not seem forced but would be voluntary” (v 14). This tactic is extremely interesting for Philemon knows Paul’s wishes and must be forced to either deny him those wishes and potentially ruin their friendship or set Onesimus free. Paul ends his appeal by stating, “Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask” (v 21) and he earlier says, “…not to mention that you owe me your very self” (v 19). In other words, Paul is basically saying, “I’m not going to tell you what to do…but I know you know what is right and I’m watching.”

Paul’s second tactic in his desire to have Onesimus released is by writing a private letter to a public audience. As stated above, Philemon was the recipient of the letter but it was addressed to the whole church. Paul ensures that this will be delivered to the congregation by 1) Having a host of other disciples with him at the time of writing (v 23) and 2) Assuring Philemon that he will be coming to stay at his house in due time (v 22). If the congregation did not receive the letter, Paul would certainly find out. To be sure, while the rest of the letter uses the word “you” in the singular, verse 3 and verse 15 use it in the plural and is therefore meant to secure its intent for the “whole church.” There was no escaping the eyes of the congregation on Philemon and his choice.

Paul’s third tactic is to emphasize that while he could command Philemon what to do, he chooses to “appeal” to him out of love and as an “old man and prisoner” (v 8-9). Paul attempts to hit a nerve in Philemon by speaking of kinship: “I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains” (v 10). In verse 12 Paul states “I am sending him—who is my very heart—back to you.” According to scholars the Greek word for “heart” (splagchna) was a popular synonym for child (Meeks, 97). Paul also used, as was common, sibling language for his relationship to Philemon (v 7, 20) and therefore, because Onesimus became a Christian, sibling language for Philemon’s relationship to him (v 16). Onesimus, when he returns, will come back “no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother.” This puts Philemon in a rough position, for he would need to keep a spiritual brother in bondage, something Paul obviously saw as contrary to the gospel.

Paul’s forth and final tactic is to put himself in Onesimus’ situation. He states, “So if you consider me a partner [cf. v 6], welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me…I will pay it back” (v 17-19). Onesimus is forced to either set Onesimus free or basically lose the “partnership” between the two by essentially denying Onesimus’ spiritual value. By not accepting any sort of payoff by Paul, he denies Paul his importance and keeps Onesimus out of spite. In turn he also denies Paul his appeal and desire.

By the very nature of the letter, Onesimus must have been set free. The Pauline tradition we see in Colossians 4.9 probably testifies to the fact that Onesimus was set free. He may be, as tradition holds, the Bishop of Ephesus that Ignatius wrote to a few decades later, but that remains conjecture at best.

The Writings of St. Paul, ed. Wayne A. Meeks and John T. Fitzgerald, (Norton: New York, 2007), p 95-97.

Again - Flyleaf

A Look at Luke 19.1-10: The Story of Zacchaeus

Tax collectors in Luke's narrative gospel are depicted as scum of the society. They are usually thrown into the mix with prostitutes where both became the prototype or caricature of a "sinner." John the Baptist (Lk 3.13) and Zacchaeus make it clear that tax collecting was a dirty business by insinuating that the collectors would take all or part of the dues as their own individual profits. Yet, to the dismay of the Pharisees and Sadducees, it's these people that Jesus eats with and lives among. They are the ones that make up the kingdom of heaven. This fact is emphasized in chapter 18 of Luke wherein we see the parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector. In this parable the tax collector was the one who humbled himself before God while the Pharisee, the individual who was "religious" by most definitions of the term, was the one who prided himself. The tax collector was "justified before God" (v14) while the Pharisee was not. Further, the story of the pious rich ruler coming to Jesus points forward to chapter 19. In this passage Jesus notes that in order to follow him, the rich must be willing to give up their treasures and possessions. The rich ruler in chapter 18 did not do this, but in chapter 19 it is the tax collector that succeeds in giving four times his cheated profits away in order to follow him.

Zacchaeus' problem was both physical and moral. On one hand he was too short to see Jesus passing through, so it became necessary for him to gain altitude in order to see him. This is the purpose of the sycamore-fig tree. Yet his problem goes deeper than that, for as he states upon meeting Jesus, he knows that sometimes he "cheated anybody out of anything" (v8). Jesus' reputation amongst the people was dangerous for the allegations that Zaccaeus was a 'sinner' was prevalent (as stated above by the very notion of tax collecting).

Augustine and Pelagius

Augustine saw in Pelagius’ ideas the lack of need for God. He saw Pelagianism as the denial of divine sovereignty and a rejection of our captivity to sin. Augustine wrote, “If you give what you command, then command what you give” (TeSelle, 39) indicating that we can only follow God if God helps us to follow him. Contrary to popular opinion, Augustine did not deny the freedom of the will but the effectiveness and able function of the will when constrained and imprisoned by sin. According to Augustine, the will is simply in “bondage.” Thus, Augustine could affirm “that Adam’s progeny [will] choose evil inevitably but still on their own responsibility” (41).

Augustine was disgusted by the views of Pelagius on this matter and rejected what he said as heresy. Pelagius believed in total freedom of the will, thus affirming the idea that we are capable of making the correct decision in every instance. Pelagius believed it was possible to live a perfect life if one so chose. This idea, to Augustine, denied God’s sovereignty and the doctrine of original sin, thus making void the need for salvation. Perfection was an obligation and a commandment and no man was inherently bound by sin. Augustine saw the idea that man truly had the ability to exercise his free will without God’s help as repulsive, perhaps as a result of his former fatalist ties, and argued that for God to truly be God and for grace to be grace man needed to be set free by God.

To be sure, Pelagius was controversial without the help of Augustine. He never explicitly stated whether death was natural or the result of sin and his idea that the moral law was set in place to be obeyed and, therefore, could be obeyed is unscriptural. But I do not think that he deserved the hostile reaction delivered to him from Augustine. Pelagius took the doctrine of “free will” to what he thought was the logical conclusion: the ability to live a perfect life without being required to by sin.

In my estimation, Augustine’s ideas form a paradox that inevitably turns God into the one truly responsible for sin and evil in the world (as Ulrich Zwingli consciously admitted) for ultimately he is the one that frees the will (and leaves captive) of whomever he chooses. I do not see it so starkly as to say, “It is God’s choice alone” (Augustine) or “It is man’s choice alone” (Pelagius). Our choice to choose between good and evil (and inevitably between salvation and damnation) are a combination of God and man together.

*Eugene TeSelle, Augustine (Abingdon Press: Nashville, 2006)

A Theological Analysis of The Matrix: Christianity, Gnosticism, Buddhism, and Existentialism

Religion has been coming back into the public sphere with a vengeance as of late through the realm of cinema. Contrary to what one might expect its resurgence has not been initiated by Christian writers and directors but by the secular faces of Hollywood. Religion sells—or, more specifically, fictionalized and analogized religion sells. Aside from Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ (which had its own elements of conjecture, special effects, and cinematic liberty) most religious based films in recent years have either taken the form of fantasy and analogy (i.e. Narnia) or horror (i.e. The Exorcist, Stigmata). One of the most popular films to be released in this new wave of religious interest is the 1999 Wachowski brother’s film The Matrix.

The Matrix finds religious and nonreligious analogies throughout the entire film, which I believe concentrate on four specific worldviews: Christianity, Gnosticism, Buddhism, and Existentialism. With the special effects and cyberpunk plot these ideas are ingrained into “story” so well that the average moviegoer can miss them, if going to see simply an action flick. But if one watches intelligently trying to pay attention to the worldview inherent in the movie the philosophies behind the film are hard to miss. Though there is not enough space to go into detail extensively, the four worldviews presented above need to be covered.

There are several plot points that are analogous to Christianity. In the first place, Neo (played by Keanu Reeves) must make the same choice as Adam and Eve in the Genesis account. He must choose between the red pill (knowledge) and the blue pill (ignorance) and do so without turning back. Neo’s choice obviously reflects the choice of experiencing true reality and the human condition over the Matrix. Neo could have, if he took the blue pill, woke up in his bed and continue living on in the Matrix. His choice reflects our social desire to experience truth, even if it hurts.

The second aspect of Christian analogy in The Matrix comes in the form of Messianism. One would be hard pressed to miss the fact that Neo’s name is an anagram that when rearranged spells “One”. The prophecy of the oracle represents the prophecy of the Old Testament Jews in claiming that the “One” will come to destroy the Matrix from the last stronghold of truth and reality, Zion. There is, as somewhat expected, a traitor (Cypher) who prefers ignorance and bliss to reality and truth. He turns in Neo for worldly gain. Perhaps the most outright Christian analogy is Neo’s death (though not a sacrifice) and “resurrection”. Agent Smith (representing Satan) was able to succeed in killing Neo, but was thwarted when Neo rose from the dead moments later (in a way, by the power of Trinity) in a fully human, but more than human sense to where the laws of the Matrix could no longer have a grip on him.

The Christian analogy is most definitely evident to the intelligent watcher, but there are non-Christian themes within the movie. In the first place, deliverance from the Matrix is not based on a deliverance from sin. It is based on knowledge that the Matrix is false and corrupt and in order to get back to the real world one must escape the Matrix and work to destroy it. This dualist view is very much Gnostic in its way of thinking.

Though most appropriate as a polemic of how far we are willing to take science, the fact that man produced the Matrix out of his own pride is akin to the Gnostic traditions of the material world created out of divine pride. [1] Thus, since the spirit is good and the material is bad, the only way to be saved is to escape it, which comes in the form of gnosis. Orthodox Christianity from its earliest stages has rejected this so it fails the test of orthodox Christian belief. Further, while “Neo” can be respelled into a messianic word (‘One’), his real name is Thomas Anderson, which echoes the most famous Gnostic document The Gospel of Thomas.[2] Whether this is coincidence or not it is nonetheless worth noting.

The Gnostic ideas naturally flow into Buddhist and Transcendentalist ideas. This world, as presented in The Matrix, is no more than an illusion of the real thing. There is an obvious reference to Plato’s The Cave represented in Neo’s release from the Matrix. His eyes were sore because according to Morpheus he had never actually “used” them. The Matrix was a shadow, a “prison” of the mind that everyone is “born into”. The senses we have of the world are “simply electrical signals interpreted by [our] brain.” One of the most popular taglines of the film is the transcendentalist idea that “there is no spoon.” As James Spiegel has noted in conjunction with my analysis, “…while perhaps no writer or artist has improved upon his cave allegory in presenting this theme, the Wachowski brothers' The Matrix might be as effective an attempt as any since Plato.”[3]

Neo, though obviously symbolizing Jesus in certain respects, seems to symbolize the Buddha in others. He obtains no inherently divine characteristics. Though he is the one prophesied by the oracle to bring down the Matrix, he “saves” no one but rather releases them so they can save themselves. It is not a belief in Neo that brings one out of the Matrix (none of the crew worships him or attributes divine characteristics to him)—it is through self-denial and rejection of the projected reality that one becomes free.

Last, but certainly not least, are the existentialist or humanist ideas represented throughout the film. There is no mention or belief in a “God”. In fact, Morpheus describes “when you go to church” as part of the illusion of the Matrix alongside of paying taxes and going to work. The absence of any God from the film implies an apocalypse brought on and solved by man, not God. Man needs no metaphysical salvation. The existentialist idea that man can save himself without divine intervention is thoroughly presented in the Matrix. What one might see as divine help in the Matrix is really the recognition of one’s placement in the Matrix and the ability to bend the rules of its “reality”.

In terms of my own personal opinion, The Matrix is an excellent movie, both visually and plot wise. But part of what makes it a great movie is paying attention to the theologically contradictory messages throughout. Some of the theological and philosophical analogies are obviously on the surface, so they are things that most anyone watching somewhat intelligently can pick out. I am thankful, however, that in watching it this time I have a basic understanding of what Gnosticism, transcendentalism, and existentialism all say, for if I didn’t I might be tempted to confuse those elements with the Christian analogies. I have wondered how much this movie has caused Christians (and non-Christians) to see Christianity pluralistically.

---

[1] Frances Flannery-Dailey and Rachel Wagner, “Wake up! Gnosticism and Buddhism in the Matrix,” Journal of Religion and Film vol 5, no. 2 (2001): access: http://www.unomaha.edu/jrf/gnostic.htm

[2] Dailey and Wagner, (2001)

[3] James Spiegel, “Cinematic Illustrations in Christian Theology,” Journal of Religion and Film vol 6, no 2 (2002), access: http://www.unomaha.edu/jrf/cinematic.htm

New Song--Let's Fly Away

New song I wrote called "Let's Fly Away". Enjoy!



* This song is owned and copyrighted by Randy Hardman.

Glenn Beck on Van Jones

Losing Context of the Resurrection

Over the past several years I have had many conversations in which I have asked fellow Christians how they see the world. In what context should one view reality in all its forms and all its components. If we hold to the fact that Christianity is a worldview, and the most reasonable worldview at that, I ask in what context can we see it?

I've heard various answers from various people--sometimes no answer at all. The answer I usually get is as such: "I see the world in light of the fact that Jesus, God incarnate, died on the cross for my sins."

This answer, I believe, is not necessarily correct and I believe that it is one of the main problems in the modern church! I believe the fact that we tend to see the world in the context of Jesus' death gives us an incomplete picture of the world. Let me explain.

When we speak of Christianity as a story, a story through history in which God intervenes in the lives and events of mankind in order to bring about a single purpose, we are speaking of Christianity as a narrative--to be sure, we are speaking of Christianity as a meta-narrative (beyond space, time, and physical substance). There are four components to Christian belief: Creation, Fall, Redemption, and Consummation (or Restoration). The death of Christ covers the chapter of Redemption (Is 44), but it is the resurrection that ties all of it together. In the resurrection the Fall is reversed, we are made new (and better!) creations, redemption has been brought about by the action prior to the resurrection, and restoration occurs through the resurrection of the dead which is anticipated by the resurrection of Christ (1 Cor 15).

It is in the context of resurrection that we should see the world. I believe this wholeheartedly and I think that once we do it will become the foundation for our worldview. The dualist idea that the world is bad (or that our body's are eternally corrupted by the fall) is not biblical. In the same way that Christ will restore the cosmos and make it a "new creation" he will do the same for us! What a humbling thought!

I recently lost context for several weeks of this. I stopped seeing the world in the light that I should have and did and said things that should not have been done or said. It is unfortunate and I am having to deal with the consequences of losing this perspective. I lost it, but YHWH found me and has restored the way in which I need to see the world. I have been told I am a leader, and in this I believe that I need to and should admit my faults. To those that have supported me or have supported Ratio Christi it is to you that I come and plead with you not to lose context of the resurrection as the cornerstone for your faith!

Randy

Obama's Health Care Advisers

This blog is obviously taking a little broader, more political role.