Hagiographers and Iconoclasts and the Third Way

The following quote about A.B. Simpson, founding guru of the Christian & Missionary Alliance, typifies the response we ought to have not only to our higher life, holiness movement forebears, but also our fundamentalist or Restoration Movement forebears, and especially our fundamentalist, higher life forebear who lives in Oak Brook. Without our heritage, our prior experience and identity are uprooted. But without honesty and the will to reform, our brains and consciences turn to mush. Take and heed, take and heed.

Gordon T. Smith, Conversion and Sanctification in the Christian & Missionary Alliance (1992).

We tend to have two kinds of people within the C&MA -- the hagiographers and the iconoclasts. The iconoclasts see little if any good in the heritage of the C&MA when it comes to theology. [A.B.] Simpson and his contemporaries are viewed as incompetent in both biblical exegesis and in theological method, and thus as having little to contribute to a modern discussion. They are even, perhaps, a bit embarrassed by our founders. The unstated assumption is that the sooner we can move on and distance ourselves from Simpson, the better.

The hagiographers, on the other hand, feel the need to refer to the founder of the denomination as Dr. Simpson, which is the Alliance equivalent of saying Saint Simpson. In this perspective, Simpson did no wrong, especially when it comes to exegesis and theology. These folk would seem to have us defend every aspect and perspective that Simpson brought to the question of sanctification.

We need an approach to this discussion that affirms tradition along with the authority of Scripture. We need to affirm the strength and vitality of our theological and spiritual heritage, and the power and significance of Simpson's insights, while also acknowledging that Simpson was neither a good exegete nor a good theologian. He was a preacher, prophet, and leader. We can affirm his strengths, and recognize that he was a product of his age. He was a giant in the religious movements of the late 19th century. But he also had some glaring weaknesses, notably those that we find so difficult to accept: weak biblical exegesis and poor theological method.

Yet, it is possible to develop a theology of sanctification and of Christian experience in general, that reflects careful attention to Scripture while also affirming the insights of the heritage. This contemporary perspective on sanctification, then, will reflect the strengths, wisdom and insights of the denominational founders. We stand on the shoulders of giants. But it would also seek to formulate our theology with attention to biblical exegesis and theological method. Our contemporary statement will be with different language and probably a new paradigm by which we capture the biblical message and the insights of our heritage.

Study of sanctification

I've got a big-time intellectual curiosity right now on the topic of sanctification. It seems like the pietistic way I hear so often isn't satisfying enough for my mind. But I still need sanctification like I need a doctor. It's ugly.

I've been following threads in John Piper's book Future Grace and the various materials by Andy Naselli analyzing the Keswick theology of sanctification. I've made up my mind to read Phoebe Palmer's book from the 1840s, The Way of Holiness, which seemed to spark off the Methodist Holiness movement in the US, which spread to England and became the Keswick conference... the party includes Fanny Crosby, Amy Carmichael, Andrew Murray, and Dwight Moody.

Here's an interesting survey of some of these life-connections in the Higher-Life movement, which reached even C.T. Studd, Billy Graham and Bill Bright.

The things I'm disturbed about are anti-intellectualism, passive quietism, and unrealistic, superstitious assessments of self and spiritual realities -- in short, a stereotypically feminine approach to dealing with sin. It emphasizes faith (let go and let God), but the faith is the sort you need for falling, not for climbing.  I really don't know what to make of the accusations being lobbed back and forth, especially when I read about Phoebe Palmer's life and the emotional demands of revivalism that she was responding to. So... if you understand it well and it works for you, great. But I'm in search of a more comprehensive model. As I said in an earlier post, I'm looking for an openeyed faith that is realistic and robust. I'm sure others have gone in the opposite direction for equally valid reasons. I'm not.

It's been a worthy distraction, though. And I finally found the passage I was looking for, that both Piper and Naselli refer to: J.I. Packer's testimony of "deliverance" from an unrealistic pietist view of sanctification.

Read below, from Packer's introduction to Triumph over Temptation, an abridgement of John Owen (pp. 31-37).

Sincerity in evangelism

I rediscovered this essay from my blog of five years ago. I was probably even more of a scared, cloistered elitist bookworm then than I am now. But this piece amazed me, and the sentiment convicted me.  I even remember trying to narrate it to a friend. I can see images all mixing in from Phil Garvin, John Bunyan, "Jerry West", and G.K. Chesterton to be squeezed into the four corners of a reflection paper for philosophy class. Enjoy.

Sincerity in evangelism

How is the disciple to act as a “commercial fisherman” rather than a “sport fisherman” when spreading the good news? Most undesirable is the pushy salesman attitude who wants above all else to lead his friend in some fideistic “sinner’s prayer”. Also undesirable is the one who starts out with an intellectual apologetic, meets unbelief and turns into a small-mouthed apologetic intellectual. Both these lack a sincere, pure heart that is supremely interested in the interests of God and of his friend. Part of this is comes from self-reliance, not devoting oneself to prayer and the Scriptures. Another part of it is not being frank about one’s own sin.

Moving on from fishing, another analogy of the sea is the rescuer of a shipwreck. Bits of treasure, gold coins, fallen timbers scattered on the shore. The treasure is the problem of pleasure. Smashed shivers of timbers, the chill of the waves, are the problem of pain. The shipwreck is the world. It is civilization, nature, and the natural Mansoul. Drowning in sin. This shipwreck is the whole reason for the gospel.

And now, when I awake and find myself picking through debris on the beach, imagining if this might have been Admiral Drake’s galleon, forget both that it actually was, that his Patron is at this moment in Portsmouth, designing and financing a new vessel – and that my comrade is still unconscious, trapped in the sinking bilge.

This is the amnesia of the disciple. It is not that I merely believe the Resurrection; I am convinced of it. My weakness of heart, my iniquity, my amnesia, is as much a proof of the cause of the shipwreck and the certainty of my mate’s doom as is his own heedlessness to belief. He doesn’t see the danger because he cannot. I must remember what I was convinced of, so as to “rescue” him and myself for the service of the Patron, on the future Galleon. Don’t expect him to believe, expect to convince him of the danger.