The Great Commission: What Kind of Foundation?

Go therefore make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. (Jesus, Matthew 28:19-20)

Jesus' words sent his followers out into the wider world and began the worldwide outreach that is our mission as Christians. The great commission is vital to the foundation of the church. But vital in what way? We have been looking at "axioms" -- how we place something at the beginning of a logical system. Consider two different ways the Great Commission could be viewed as a foundation for the Christian movement:

Possibility #1: The Great Commission is the starting point for our actions as Christ's followers.
Possibility #2: The Great Commission is the whole purpose for our actions as Christ's followers.

Under the first possibility the Great Commission is where we begin, but it does not limit us. From that beginning, we branch out into other questions of theology that may occur to us, or seem important to us. We search out more mysteries. We have a healthy curiosity about God, and we do our best to read between the lines of Scripture to find answers to questions that were never directly asked or answered in those pages.

Under the second possibility, all of the above is well and good but shouldn't be mistaken for what Jesus asked us to do. Under the second possibility, the Great Commission is the whole purpose of the church. If Christ said to teach everything he taught, then that is what we are to teach. If he said we are to obey everything he commanded, then that is what we are to do. If we are teaching something else or doing something else, it's not what he asked us to do. A teaching or belief or action cannot be required if nobody in the apostolic church showed it coming from Christ. Teaching other things may be interesting but it's not any essential part of Christianity.

Looking at the history of Jesus' followers, we can see that the Great Commission was definitely a starting point. It is not a controversial thing to call it a starting point. The question I mean to raise is this: when Jesus spoke those words, what was it that he meant to start? The commission calls us to be taught, and to do, and to teach everything that Jesus taught to those first disciples. Are we commanded -- or invited, or permitted -- to teach things besides that?

The issue is not necessarily simple. At what point does not knowing fully, not understanding fully, interfere with our ability to teach and to follow? At what point does seeking other answers distract us from what Jesus said?  And each person sees one topic as more vital than others. But the questions I mean to raise are these: At what point are we no longer teaching what Jesus actually taught us? At what point have we hijacked the church and used it as a license to teach our own theories? At what point does Jesus' commission no longer control what the church is doing?

When Martin Luther started the original Reformation, he had not meant to divide the church but to curb some abuses, and so he posted some debating points. His 95 Theses were largely about purgatory and indulgences. Those 95 Theses might have been summed up like this: "Where did you get a license to teach that?" The point here is not to pick on the church of Rome. Instead I'd invite us all to ask, for everything we teach: Is that something that Jesus taught?

As we head back to the anniversary of the Reformation, I think instead of 95 Theses, I'd invite people to consider one axiom: The church exists to fulfill Christ's commission.

What are your denomination's axioms?

When we look at the divisions in Christianity and what we can do to reach across them, I'd like to take a look at what each group may think cannot be yielded -- the axioms of the group, the beliefs that are key to each group's identity. The list here is meant as an example, something that I hope represents those groups accurately, but could definitely be expanded:

Rome:

The Roman Catholic Church has infallibility in dogma through the successors of Peter, guided by the Spirit and Tradition.

Protestants:

The Bible contains all that we need to know in this world about God and matters of faith.

Fundamentalists:

The Bible is inerrant. 

Lutherans:

The way to understand God is by looking at Christ.

Calvinists:

The most important thing to know about God is that He is Sovereign.
Nothing happens apart from God's sovereign decree.

Pentecostals:

The Holy Spirit still gives all kinds of gifts of the Spirit to believers.
(And, often) Those who have the Holy Spirit can speak in tongues.

For other groups, while I may have some idea what they teach, I'm not sure which beliefs are the essential axioms. For example:

Methodists:

The goal of religion is to attain perfection.
Perfection can be reached in this lifetime.

Does that reach the level of axiom for Methodists, or is something else the unique bedrock there? A thorough treatment of this would have each group speaking for itself.


Some items in the Nicene Creed read as though they were meant to be the axioms on which we base our further knowledge. Each group's systematic theology is profoundly influenced by its axioms -- in fact, each group's theology is built on its axioms and shaped by its axioms. After all, that is what axioms are for.

Some Christian groups oppose creeds on general principle, on the view that the Bible should speak for itself. The groups that oppose creeds tend to be the groups that have no systematic theology. Again, this is expected; you could hardly have a systematic theology without a set of axioms for starters. A group's systematic theology cannot go beyond its axioms.

Where does this leave us? I think we will need to find the core beliefs of each group, and take a closer look at those. For a discussion to make any progress, each group would have to put its most basic assumptions out on the table, not as the basis for further discussion, but for examination in order to vet those most basic assumptions.

To be continued. Next: some sample axioms, and where they would lead. 

Why Is Greed Called "Idolatry"?

This is written in response to a post by Ryan Thomas Jones -- where I'm a little late to the conversation, but wanted to add some thoughts all the same. In the linked piece, Jones argues that greed can be called "idolatry" only because the target of greed -- money -- involves actual literal images, and those images are the essential part of idolatry. I respectfully disagree. I have split up the response into two points: my objection, and why it matters.

My Objection

Let's start first with the Ten Commandments, the parts about other gods:

You shall have no other gods before me.
You shall not make yourself any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth:
You shall not bow down to them, or serve them. (Exodus 20:3-5)

If we were to place something before God but make no image of it, it would still be idolatry in a real sense. "Having no other gods before God" is commanded here, just as plainly as not making such an image. Serving a god besides God is plainly called wrong, and I have no doubt this would hold true even without an image. For example, I have no doubt that this command would apply to pagans who served Bacchus or Aphrodite or other gods even if there were no images involved. So serving another god is itself considered wrong, whether or not there are images involved.

Next, Paul on the subject of greed:

Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is idolatry. (Colossians 3:5)

And Christ on the same subject:

No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon. (Matthew 6:24)

Mr Jones argues that the real reason greed is called idolatry is because money has images on it:

Show me the tribute money. And they brought him a coin. And he said to them, "Whose is this image and superscription?" And they said to him, "Caesar's." (Matthew 22:19-21)

I have to say plainly that I disagree with the reasoning that "greed" is called "idolatry" merely because the coins had images. Greed is not called idolatry only when it applies to something with an image on it. Greed might desire gems that have no image on them, or on gold that has not been minted into coins but is only a bar of precious metal. Paul said nothing to show that greed is only "idolatry" when it applies to things that are marked with an image. If we were to look back to the Ten Commandments for reasons that Paul might call something idolatry, I can see several reasons:

• Having another god before God;
• Having idolatrous images; 
• Serving another god.

When Jesus commented on how "You cannot serve both God and mammon", he did not mention images; he mentioned service, and he mentioned devotion and which master is first in someone's love and devotion.

From there, it seems a safe conclusion -- the intended conclusion -- that greed is idolatry even if it attaches to things like jewelry that have no image on them.

That means "idolatry" is a legitimate concern for other things which take our devotion away from God, where we serve something else before God.

Why It Matters

Mr Jones described some preaching he has heard:

Sometimes they will go on to say, “So we are really all idolators.” It makes for good preaching if you are trying to produce a big altar call with lots of tears. But here’s the thing. It’s not biblical. It’s a pious hoax.

There's an implication that the "idolatry" accusation is being used by the preacher as theatrics, to produce a show -- and that an essential part is the "lots of tears" -- that is, inducing guilt. A commenter to the original post says as much:

The sins that get re-categorized as idolatry are bad enough by themselves, and people are often stuck dealing with them. Adding the idolatry tag is an attempt to ratchet up the guilt ...

I have seen and heard my fair share of bad preaching over the years. I have no doubt that some preachers would use the accusation of "idolatry" to "ratchet up the guilt" as the commenter says, or "produce a big altar call with lots of tears". It is a manipulative thing, and it is right to object to the manipulation. Under the circumstances, another sad thing is that the "altar call" may sometimes be theatrics, not mercy. (My denomination doesn't do altar calls; this cuts down on the theatrics, though without necessarily improving the preaching.) If an altar call makes us rededicate our lives to God, there is a risk that we have rededicated ourselves to works-righteousness.

The reason I bothered writing this post is that I think there's a far better way to react to guilt than by trying to soften the accusation against us. It is better to turn to Christ -- and, sadly, here I'll have to make clear: not in the manipulated "don't you feel even guiltier now" kind of way that Mr Jones was so right to object to. There is a certain kind of preacher who may believe that guilt-tripping repentant sinners is a holy thing and part of his calling; there is something fundamentally sick about that. Should a preacher never try to create guilt? Let's say that if someone has no conscience it is the preacher's job to help revive it, and if someone has no sense of what is good and holy, then it is the preacher's job to build that up. Most people can tell the contrast by themselves, from there. (It is one of the most effective ways of discrediting the church, making a culture where nothing is holy, and then persuading the church to try to fit into that culture. Peoples' consciences will die for lack of hope that there is a better way.)

But for those who are already aware of their sin, it is not the preacher's job to increase their misery in their guilt. It is the preacher's job to show how faithful Christ is in forgiving us, how steady his promises are, how unwavering his faithfulness is. Even when our devotion to Christ may have slipped when we were tempted, it is the preacher's job to remind us that Christ's devotion to us did not slip. It is the preacher's job to explain why we can hope in Christ, and how trustworthy that hope will prove, and how love casts out fear. It is the preacher's job to hold up all of Christ's acts of mercy and forgiveness, and his promise of the Last Day.

That is, I think, the right response to finding out that some things we do can, in fact, be compared to idolatry.

A mother's prayer for teenagers: May his light shine

Lord, thank you for (name). Thank you for the kindness he has shown to his friends, and for his willingness to walk in the right path even when it is not the easy road. Let his light so shine where he is, that they may see his good works and glorify you.

A mother's prayer for teenagers: Deliver them from evil

Lord, thank you for (names). Deliver them from evil: from those who would harm them or kill them, from those who would trick them or use them. Deliver them from those who would lead them into temptation. May they love you and follow you all their days. May they find you to be their refuge and strength, and may they be safe in your arms. 

Controversies: A Tale of Two Axioms

There are some controversies where no amount of discussion seems to make any difference to either side. I think this traces to something that our geometry teachers called an "axiom". At the beginning of every logical system, of every rational argument, and of every train of thought, there is some starting point. The first point in any argument is assumed as given. If you don't believe that something is assumed in every argument, then consider this: the first point must be assumed; otherwise it wouldn't be the first point. If that point is not assumed, if it rests on something else -- then whatever it rests on would be the first point -- and that would be assumed. (For those who remember geometry -- which is the first formal system of logical proof that we meet in school -- the "axioms" are the things you assume from the start, considered so fundamental that there is no need for proof. Every other proof rests on those assumptions. More than that: every other thing that we know can be figured out from a good set of axioms. It is just a matter of time, and discovering all the basic axioms, and applying ourselves to reach all the other available knowledge.) So an axiom is something that is is so basic that it is impossible to prove, something that is assumed based on general life knowledge and common sense: like the idea that there is a straight line that connects any two points.

Atheists have a basic axiom about the world: There is no supernatural. It is generally agreed that no reasonable person acts as if things exist which do not exist. So they conclude that anyone discussing the supernatural seriously can't be a reasonable person. By the same chain of logic, any document that records (or claims to record) supernatural events must be unreliable. The other side is not given a fair hearing because the basic belief that there is no supernatural -- the axiom of atheism -- makes it impossible to give a fair hearing to those ideas.

Different groups of Christians have different axioms about the world: That the perfection they attribute to God also holds true for either the Bible, or for the church, or for the pope, or for their own personal moral compass. (I have met a good number of Christians who believe that the Bible is fallible, but that their own personal moral compass is the infallible thing. Of course they're open to instruction -- just not from anyone who disagrees with them on anything important.) So, depending on what their own starting point is, each group will conclude that anyone who believes the Bible contains mistakes (or that their church has a mistaken teaching, or that their personal moral compass is off) is simply wrong. We may hear different explanations as to why the other person is wrong. We may hear some kinder explanations -- but usually the explanation comes down to an accusation that the other side is blinded by the evil one or morally defective, along with complaints about the supposed lack of intelligence shown by those who disagree (by the act of disagreeing). Again, different views are not given a fair hearing precisely because that person holds some belief as an axiom. Any axiom will make it impossible to consider things that might contradict that axiom. (An axiom for the religious person is not exactly the same as dogma, but they are related.)

Everybody has axioms, and it is not wrong to have an axiom. You can't start any train of thought without one; they're necessary. Where would any serious thought have gotten without solid ground and a place to start?

And the fact that two sides won't listen to each other is not, by itself, proof that the beliefs are false. But it is proof that these particular beliefs cut off meaningful conversation with opposing views if they are taken as "given", as axioms -- as things that are not open to discussion. As long as someone holds those beliefs as axioms, they hold the view that the other side cannot possibly be right and that the opposing view is not worthy of discussion. Conversations between the two groups are generally full of personal attacks questioning the other side's sanity, intelligence, humanity, or morality.


The usual way forward is to suspend the axioms -- or take a softer version of them -- for the time it takes to have a discussion or a debate about some other subject of interest to both sides. But generally it doesn't work. The conversations get right back to amazement and disbelief that the other person starts where they start, and assumes what they assume. No matter what else is being discussed, those basic beliefs never quite leave the table, and the other side never quite gets a fair hearing. Each group leaves the conversation even more firmly convinced than when they began: the other side does not give them a fair hearing and never intends to do so; the conversation was not held in good faith but was merely a show for their own supporters; and the other side is completely blind to the things considered self-evident and obvious on the other side of the divide. 


It may be more helpful to put the axioms themselves on the table for discussion. If we put the axioms themselves up for debate, what would we ask? How about this: Do you believe that this axiom is the only possible explanation that fits our experience? Or, can we test this idea against another, and see which one makes better sense of a set of facts?

Ten Encouraging Things To Say

Along the thoughts of The Gentle Art of Lifting Up Your Neighbor, here are some encouraging things to say to people who don't quite understand about their own talents.

1. Wow. You are so good at that. 
2. You are better at that than I am. 
3. I'm sure you can handle it. 
4. I really love the way you handled that. 
5. I know I can count on you. It means a lot to me. 
6. I trust you.
7. You make that look so easy. 
8. I could never have done that. 
9. You've always been good at that. 
10. That was so [kind / helpful / friendly / good-natured].