Christian Realism regarding Christian Unity in Paris

Late last month, I was in Paris, France, to deliver a lecture for La Société d'Histoire et de Documentation Baptistes de France (SHDBF), co-sponsored by the Centre Mennonite de Paris. The subject provided by my hosts was "Baptists: Are We Calvinists or Non-Calvinists?" That lecture will be published in their journal, so I have refrained from disseminating it. Nonetheless, I would like to discuss one critical subject that arose in that paper and that came into sharper focus for me during my short sojourn in France: Christian unity.

I have been involved in a number of ecumenical conversations over the years, somewhat formally between world Baptists and Anglicans and between American evangelicals and Roman Catholics, as well as many informal conversations at Duke and Oxford universities and elsewhere. Ecumenical conversations have proven beneficial for my own theological development because they allow one to hear from other Christian traditions and to reflect upon one's own tradition, from within and from without. When engaged from a realistic viewpoint, ecumenical conversations clarify both convergences and divergences between the various Christian traditions, helping to shed light on the glories and inadequacies of each.

And that viewpoint--let us call it 'Christian realism'--provides for difficult though beneficial conversations. On the one hand, there is the hope that Christian divisions may be overcome; on the other hand, there is the constant reminder that significant differences remain. The divisions between the various Christian traditions persist due to apparently irreconcilable historical, theological and ecclesiological foundations. The doctrine of papal primacy is not a mere inconvenience keeping Christians from learning to worship together--it is a sublime Spirit-given truth to the one and a gross human imposition to the other. The doctrine of infant baptism is not a secondary or tertiary roadblock on the highway to Zion--it is a necessary theological building block to the one and a tyrannical violation of human conscience to the other. The doctrine of biblical inerrancy is not a mere historical footnote--it is a fundamental aspect of biblical inspiration to the one and a puzzling theological claim to the other. No matter what our personal or ecclesial desires, the theological facts on the ground remain: although we may each claim the name of Christ, Christians from the various traditions possess fundamental reasons to retain our divisions.

And yet, because this 'Christian realism' is 'Christian', it is replete with the expectation that these divisions will be overcome by and in Jesus Christ, the one Lord that Christians commonly proclaim. The lack of unity among Christians is not a cause for celebration but for mourning. This reality was brought home to me palpably during this lecture delivered in a Baptist church building at 123 Avenue du Maine in the Fourteenth Arrondissement of Paris. In the audience that evening were Baptist, Mennonite and Reformed Christians, laity and clergy, from across Europe, Africa and the Americas. I had historically and systematically laid open both the convergences and divergences between all three Christian groups, and the divergences seem to be so intractable. Towards the end of my lecture, while reminding us of the divergences, I fell back upon Scripture for hope:

The unresolved nature of this dispute--over what is and what is not 'necessary', 'essential' or 'fundamental'--lies at the root of the continuing division between the churches of the Reformed and the churches of the baptizing tradition. Until that is resolved, it is doubtful there will be a reunion. Ultimately, however, there must be reunion, for Christ is our Lord and He has prayed for our unity (John 17). Surely, there will be no divisions at the great supper of the Lamb as the universal church gathers to worship Him who died for the atonement of our sins, who arose from the dead for the redemption of our bodies, and who will one day return for our glorification (Rev 19).

Christian realism regarding Christian unity. The 'reality' is that the divisions between Christians cannot be quickly papered over or glibly bypassed with some temporary emotional sentiment accompanying a facile theological equation. The divisions between the Roman Catholics, the Reformed, and the baptizing churches are deep and, more importantly, they are fundamental. This is the reality we must face. However, our realism is also 'Christian'. And Christ calls His disciples to display their unity in love. He promised such unity would lead the world to see Him in us (John 13:34-35). The Christian hope is that our divisions will be overcome, and they will be at the least eschatologically, but we must do whatever we possibly can to overcome them now, with integrity, on the basis of His will and for the sake of evangelism.

These ideas continued ringing through my head and heart the next day as I visited the Faculté Libre de Théologie Évangélique in Vaux-sur-Seine, which serves theological students in the evangelical free church traditions from both France and Switzerland. Professor Alain Nisus, their primary systematic theologian, invited me to deliver lectures and take questions on free church ecclesiology, and it was a pleasure to get to know this rising theologian, from whom I hope we will hear more. I also enjoyed my conversations with Professor Neal Blough, whose work on Pilgram Marpeck I have long greatly admired. As I sat through worship and a meal with Professors Nisus and Blough, and their academic dean, Professor Jacques Buchhold, I was reminded of those fundamental truths that hold the evangelical free churches together. (The Paris seminary, whose leading scholar is the highly respected Calvinist theologian, Henri Blocher, has an evangelical confession. You may consider her history here and her confession here.) And yet, even among the free churches, we must admit that we maintain ecclesiastical divisions. I pray these, too, will be overcome, for the sake of our witness to the gospel.

Christian Profiling?

One of today's big news items is that National Public Radio, an entity supported with American tax dollars, fired Juan Williams, one of their long-standing news analysts, for making the following statements,

“I mean, look, Bill, I’m not a bigot. You know the kind of books I’ve written about the civil rights movement in this country. But when I get on the plane, I've got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they are identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous."

Whether Mr. Williams deserved to be fired, or not, and whether this liberal news organization should be supported by taxpayer dollars, or not, are important though mundane issues that should be addressed. However, what I would like to consider is what should be my attitude as a Christian in such a situation. Should a Christian ever engage in profiling? Before I answer the question, please allow me to relate a story of a similar incident to that of Juan Williams, a relevant incident that happened in my own life.

A short time after the horrific events of September 11, 2001, I started flying again in order to fulfill my responsibilities as the Academic Dean at Midwestern Seminary. It was the first time on the plane again for many of us and the nervousness was palpable in the terminal and only increased as you traversed security and approached the gate. Moreover, as we began boarding the airplane that day, suddenly a half dozen armed police officers descended on the gate and soldiers could be clearly seen in the background brandishing automatic weapons. The object of their concern was a big olive-skinned man with a long beard wearing middle-eastern clothes and a close-fitting hat. They took him to a side hallway and began thoroughly searching his carry-on baggage. The rest of us began to board the airplane.

As the plane filled up, it became apparent that the flight was fully packed and, later, that we were not leaving the gate any time soon. After a while, the stewardesses began to look around and check through the passengers. Then, their eyes settled on me and a hushed conversation ensued. This was followed by one stewardess coming to my row and asking the lady in the center seat next to me if she would mind being moved. Time passed and we all watched as the big olive-skinned man with the long beard wearing the middle-eastern clothes and the close-fitting hat was escorted to his seat. Everybody in the plane turned to look at him the entire way as he came to the center of the plane and then sat next to me.

Needless to say, my own thoughts at that point probably should have been the same as what Juan Williams expressed, and I have to be honest that I did wonder whether I had taken out enough life insurance for my wife to care for herself and our children, in case something were to happen to me. But the Bible resting in the seat pouch in front of me said that all things were providentially guided by God: my life and my family's lives were in His hands, and my only fear should be toward Him. So, I stood up from my aisle seat and the man made his way through to sit next to me. He was obviously shaken by the whole encounter as the perspiration dripped profusely from his forehead.

As we settled in, the continual furtive glances from around the plane, looking back from this point in time, were almost comic. I began to wonder what people were thinking of me as well as him, then I remembered that a 6'4" 260-lb man with a trimmed beard wearing a suit and tie must look like an authority figure. I laughed about that because I come from a family of police officers but personally have neither pretension nor desire to exercise governmental authority. By the way, two big men sitting next to each other on an airplane is always an uncomfortable experience, and this was perhaps the closest I have been to another man for an extended period in my life.

As the plane took off, I took out my Bible and began to read, and he took out his own book, written, yes, in Arabic script, and seemed to withdraw into himself. The woman seated on the other side of my new co-passenger was as close to the bulkhead as she could get and could not take her eyes off of the window. This poor man had obviously just been through a grilling security search and suddenly my heart leaped out in compassion for a fellow human being. There was little doubt in my mind, or anybody else's on that day, that this man was subjected to such a search because he was dressed as a Muslim from head to chin to toe. This was an instance of racial profiling, whatever one thinks of the practice. But, Muslim or not, he deserved to be respected as much as the big Caucasian guy seated next to him.

As I prayed quietly, I discerned that this had to be the most important and obviously preordained appointment of my day, so I might as well use it to the full advantage. God had arranged for an American professor of Christian theology to sit next to a devout Muslim immigrant to the United States; God wanted me to comfort a fellow human being and offer him the succor of human conversation, including conversation about the gospel. Moreover, looking at the shrinking violet on the other side of my new co-passenger, I was obviously the only nearby person secure enough to speak with the man. So, as you can see, I had engaged in a little Christian profiling. Yes, I admit it, I saw this man, recognized he was most likely not a Christian and knew that God intended for me to share the gospel with him.

It was a great experience. He was so thankful that somebody would even speak to him at that point, and he was most definitely open to hearing about the gospel. And because nobody in our immediate area was even daring to whisper, it became an opportunity for me to raise my voice ever so slightly as I engaged with him in discussing what the Bible had to say about God, about human sin, and about the sacrifice that Jesus had made for our sin. He was fascinated to hear about the gospel of Jesus Christ and all the nearby passengers could not help but hear, too. (Yes, I admit it, that too was Christian profiling. How do I know some of them were not Christians? I didn't, so they all needed to hear the gospel, too.)

I also was privileged to hear about his beliefs. You see, this man was a Sunni Muslim who practiced a form of mysticism known as Sufism. The book he was praying from was the Dala'il Ul Khayrat, a sort of Arabic book of common prayer, if you will. He really was a peaceful man who was trying to be true to his culture and beliefs in the midst of a vastly different culture. He even shared with me that he did not believe the way to happiness was through violence against non-Muslims. So, here in the midst of a very tense situation, two large men from two different cultures practicing two different religions found comfort in their common humanity and shared their respective faiths peacefully with one another.

After the flight, we kept conversing with each other, even as every eye in the plane and then in the terminal followed the two of us, me with my Holy Bible and him in his Muslim dress with his holy prayer book. We exchanged cards and both went on our way. When we parted, it was as if a part of me left with him, and judging from the letter he later sent me, which now lies before me, he felt the same. Sadly, from my perspective, my new friend did not receive Jesus Christ as His personal Lord and Savior that day. However, happily, I was obedient to my Lord and shared the gospel with a fellow human being and all those tense human beings around us.

As I think about Juan Williams' statements and his unfortunate firing from NPR, I also think of how I as a Christian should respond in situations where I encounter other human beings, including human beings who are radically different from me. From a Christian perspective, every human being--no matter how alike or different his or her culture--needs to hear the gospel, and every Christian must find them and tell them that Jesus died on the cross to atone for their sin and that He arose from the dead so that any who believe in Him can find forgiveness and have eternal life in communion with the God who is love. Christians ought not engage in racial profiling, but we ought to engage in witness profiling, taking every opportunity to tell others how we had the burden of sin lifted away by the free grace of God in Christ.

Today, I pulled out the copy of the Dala'il Ul Khayrat that he mailed me and his letter fell out on the floor of my office. As I think of my friend, the devout Muslim with the Muslim beard in the Muslim dress carrying his Muslim book, I pray that sometime soon he will pull out the copy of the Bible that I sent him. And I hope that he remembers that I respect him as a fellow human being. Moreover, I hope he will recall what I said: that because God loves me, a sinner, I know God loves him, too. And because of Christ, I love him, too, no matter how different we are. I long for the day when I will meet people from every culture before the throne of God. And, more than anything else in my life, I long for my Lord to say these words to me, "Well done, thou good and faithful servant."

The Empire of the Holy Spirit

Michael A.G. Haykin has drawn upon a lifetime of biblical studies, spiritual experiences, and focused scholarship to write a popular volume on the Holy Spirit and spirituality entitled The Empire of the Holy Spirit: Reflecting on Biblical and Historical Patterns of Life in the Spirit, published by BorderStone Press. This is perhaps the most important book yet written by a prolific author. In eleven chapters, beginning with a discussion of why Christians believe that God is Trinity and the Holy Spirit is one of the three persons sharing in the Godhead, Haykin demonstrates how orthodox theology may be presented in a popular format.

There are four things to note about Haykin's sources and methodology: First, Haykin exposits Scripture at length with regard to its teachings about the person and work of the Holy Spirit. I did not discover one instance in which I found the author to have missed Scripture's presentation of pneumatology, including matters of emphasis. Second, Haykin has read the early church fathers deeply but wears his profound knowledge of Patristic history and theology with humility and without any trace of pretension. Even as he draws upon Irenaeus, Basil, and Hilary, the citations are always appropriate to the discussion and always illuminating. Third, Haykin draws upon his long interest in the eighteenth-century Puritans, especially the pioneers of the missionary Baptist movement. The illustrations from this period do not dominate the text, though his studies therein have dominated his career for many years. Fourth, Haykin engages with contemporary expressions of spirituality, both Christian and non-Christian, evaluating them with both judiciousness and gracefulness. If you want to know what the German philosopher Martin Heidegger contributes to postmodernity or where the pop spirituality of Eckhart Tolle has gone astray, Haykin provides a succinct and accurate Christian response.

At 180 pages, this slim volume was not intended to function as a systematic exploration of the doctrine of the Holy Spirit in all of His glorious deity and powerful works, but nevertheless it does touch upon much of what a traditional systematic text would. Many of the chapters were presented in other venues, both spoken and written, but the book does not read as a compilation of chapters but rather flows seamlessly from one subject to the next. What is unique about the presentation is that more contemporary issues are not addressed until the end of the book, which means that some of the more culturally relevant portions will not be discovered until the book is nearly completed. And yet, this may also be a strength, for the book is biblically relevant from cover to cover.

Although I might quibble with some of the matters presented herein, such as Haykin's construal of the Spirit's movement of grace in salvation as "irresistible," I found myself in almost wholehearted agreement with nearly every word. While Haykin acknowledges that he was once involved in the Charismatic movement popular in the 1970s and is involved in the Calvinist movement that is currently the rage, these are merely secondary even tertiary matters in this book. Haykin has not set out to prove or disprove Charismatic theology or Calvinist theology, but to bring the reader closer to an understanding of what true "spirituality" is. And that true spirituality is, according to Haykin, a biblically-faithful, God-honoring, personally-embracing love for God and His church through Christ in the Holy Spirit.

This little treasure, The Empire of the Holy Spirit: Reflecting on Biblical and Historical Patterns of Life in the Spirit, comes with my highest recommendation.