Missional Application of the Seven Letters: the Story

In earlier posts (spanning a couple of months now) I have outlined the missional concerns of each of the seven letters and argued that all of the commands and promises, rebukes and commendation, need to be understood in light of the church’s mission.

But, to truly grasp the church’s mission one must see how it flows out of the entire storyline of Scripture. It is not enough for a church’s concept of mission to hang upon a few texts in the New Testament, not even the Great Commission in Matthew 28. If the mission is truly going to govern the life of the church and its members, as it should, then the concept of mission must be robust.

Goheen and Bartholomew contend (quoting Stroup), “At the center of Scripture is a set of narratives and these narratives are the frame around which the whole of Scripture is constructed. Apart from these narratives the Prophets would not be intelligible and without the frame of the Gospel narratives it would be difficult to understand the full meaning of the parables, epistles, creeds, and hymns of the New Testament.”[1] It is through this story that we understand God’s mission and the mission he has given his church.

Wright contends, “Mission is not just one of a list of things that the Bible happens to talk about, only a bit more urgently than some. Mission is, in the much-abused phrase, ‘what it’s all about.’”[2] Köstenberger and O’Brein add, “…the divine plan of extending salvation to the ends of the earth is the major thrust of the Scriptures from beginning to end.”[3]

In each of the seven letters, what Jesus says to the church hangs on their knowledge of God’s mission and their role in it as faithful witnesses. They knew the story and the story shaped their understanding of God and of themselves. The churches in Asia Minor knew where they had come from and where they were going. John readily drew upon various parts of the story, like the tree in Eden or Jezebel’s leading Israel into idolatry, Balaam, as well future judgment, the eternal kingdom, etc. The drama of Scripture dictated, or was supposed to, who they were and what they did. Without a knowledge of their missional calling that was shaped by the larger story of Scripture, neither the imperatives nor the promises of the letters would have much power. Inside the story of Scripture and the participation of the church in God’s ongoing redemptive mission, these commands and promises are potent.

So, how well do we know and how well can we articulate the larger plotline of Scripture? Of course, many in the church bemoan the loss of Biblical literacy in the church today (I have met some Christians who’ve grown up in church but don’t know who Moses was). But more disconcerting than people’s lack of knowledge of individual bible stories is a loss of the story. This is more troubling because, in the absence of the true story (as told in the pages of Scripture), we will/our children will/the people in our churches will, of necessity, adopt another meta-story as the true story for their lives. And, if we adopt a story other than the story of Scripture, we will learn to play the characters that story demands we play. The responsibility of making this story known is the church's, but it a responsibility shared by pastors, parents, children’s ministry staff, youth ministry personnel, small group leaders, etc.

The story needs to shape how we approach every passages of Scripture. We need to tell the grand story to ourselves over and over again. In addition, we must consider how each individual part fits into this grand story. Bryan Chapel, in his influential Christ Centered Preaching, correctly asserts, “We determine the meaning of a passage by seeing not only how words are used in the context of a book or its passages, but also how the passage functions in the entire scope of Scripture…Regard for context requires us to consider an immediate text in the light of its purpose in the redemptive message unfolding through all of Scripture.”[4] The exegetical task isn’t complete until we (the preacher, teacher, small group leader, devotion giver, etc.) have asked how that particular passage of study fits into the grand scheme of redemptive history. Moreover, I would argue that the homiletical task isn’t complete until that pastor determines how he will communicates this to the church.

Week in and week out, the church must be immersed in the big story of Scripture. It is through this story the church learns about and is compelled to take up its missional task. This does not mean, however, that the we should never teach or preach doctrine or touch on topics related to marriage, parenting, finances, or other such “felt needs”. (I am not a staunch advocate of the redemptive-historical approach to preaching, though there is much to commend the approach.) It does mean, however, that this type of teaching must, in some way, show the connection to the overall mission of God’s people and the story of Scripture. In fact, I would argue that teaching the story necessarily leads to doctrine and doctrinal preaching as well as real life application for God’s people.

Telling the story of Scripture reveals a God who is active, a God who shows who he is through his action in the world. One could argue that most of what we learn of God comes through “indirect characterization” – we are shown God’s character in action more than we are told about God’s character. We see God is patient through his longsuffering dealings with Israel. We see God is wrathful though the conquest of the land. We see God is love in a myriad of ways, all culminating in the coming and dying of Jesus, his Son. Greidanus writes, “…the canon intends to tell us about God – not God in the abstract, but God in relationship to his creation and his people, God’s actions in the world, God’s coming kingdom.”[5]

Fortunately, Scripture also provides us with inspired interpretations of these actions and true propositions regarding God’s character. We are told “God is love,” and God warns us “I am a jealous God.” There is story and there is doctrine too; doctrine is summary and interpretation of the Biblical story. These two things, the narrative and doctrine, should not be divorced. For the church, there can be no articulation of the meaning or purpose of a passage that is independent of theology, for Scripture’s purpose and meaning are profoundly theological.[6] Thus the our task is not only to tell the story, but to interpret it. This interpretation of the story is done under the authority of Scriptures interpretation of its own story, which is given to us. In other words, the church must also preach and teach biblical doctrine as it flows from the grand story.

The letters to the seven churches confirm the importance of doctrine, of correct teaching. Ephesus faced false teachers and had done an admirable job of exposing them. Pergamum had to contend with those who held to the teaching of Balaam and the Nicolaitans. And, Jezebel was deceiving the church at Thyatira with her false teaching. Unfortunately, false teaching is an ever present danger and one the church must contend with.

A new survey summarized in Christianity Today contends that “Most American evangelicals hold views condemned as heretical by some of the most important councils of the early church.”[7] While there are certainly false teachers roaming our churches looking for people to lead astray, the vast majority of those who hold heterodox views due so not because they have rejected Biblical doctrine but because they have not been taught true doctrine. The author of the article cites Beth Felker Jones, a professor of theology at Wheaton College, who agrees, “Participants who gave unorthodox answers are not heretics, but probably lacked quality resources.”[8] Those who have not been properly trained in orthodox doctrine do, however, become easy prey for those false teachers who lead people astray. Those with teaching responsibilities in the church (which includes just about everyone, for parents are to teach their children) must teach doctrine, telling people “this is what the story means”, and reinforce its importance for the believer and the church.

Doctrine must, however, always be connected with the story. Story gives doctrine life and specificity. Moreover, doctrine needs to be connected to the church’s mission. The mission gives doctrine purpose. Our mission requires we testify regarding the historical events of Jesus’ life, death, resurrection and tell people what it all means. If doctrine is lost or corrupted, the church’s mission is threatened and her very reason for being is imperiled.

In addition to asking “What does it mean,” teaching the story will also lead people to ask “What does this story require of me?” The story provides the grounding for the all of the biblical imperatives. We see that in Revelation 2&3. The story was being written and the church had their role to play in it – they were required to do and to be in ways that conformed to their God given task of bearing witness.

The church was to be a fellowship of love that would mark them as Christ’s followers, yet the Ephesians had abandoned their first love. The church was to be the faithful and holy bride of Christ, yet Jesus rebukes the Christians in Pergamum and Thyatira for their unfaithfulness including idolatry and immorality. The good works of the believer and their overall manner of life were to be integral to their mission, drawing people’s attention and leading them to praise their Father in Heaven; but, the works of the Christians in Sardis were not complete and many had soiled their garments, making the witness ineffective at best. Laodicea’s compromised rendered them useless – they completely blended with their culture, failing to be the contrast community of Christ.

The story was to shape the church’s and the Christians life, and these reshaped lives are a part of God’s mission plan. Wright is correct, “there can be no biblical mission without biblical ethics”[9]; the two are interconnected. Consequently, telling the story of the missionary God and his missional people provides the perfect bridge to application. Alasdair McIntyre points to the essential nature of story for ethics, “I can only answer the question ‘What am I to do?’ if I can answer the prior question ‘Of what story or stories do I find myself a part?’”[10] Emlet reminds us, “It is important to realize that the Bible not only tells a true story; it also demands a response. The authors of Scripture write with intention – their words are meant to provoke a response from the reader…all Scripture is written with a pastoral intent, not simply the imperative portions.”[11]

Understanding the grand story of Scripture and the task we have been appointed addresses the main concerns of people in unique and profound ways. Daniel Doriani delineates four large ethical questions people wrestle with that the church must address (particularly, but not exclusively, from the pulpit): the question of duty (“what should I do?”), the question of character (“who should I be?”), the question of goals (“to what should I devote my life?”), and the question of discernment (“how do I distinguish truth from error?”).[12] In addition to these ethical questions, people are wrestling with many metaphysical questions – who am I, why am I, where is all this heading, what’s wrong with the world, what’s wrong with me, is there a remedy to what ails us. All of these questions are addressed by Scripture and the overarching narrative it tells.

More than being simply being addressed by the grand story of Scripture, compelling answers to these questions requires the story and the mission it conveys. Ethics and mission are intertwined, for the whole life of the missional people of God is shaped by their mission – they were and are to be a distinct people set apart for God and his purposes. Johannes Blauw writes regarding OT Israel, but his words hold for the NT Israel, the church, as well: “When Israel forgets the distinction between herself and the nations, she commits treason not only against the covenant of God but also against those nations for whose sake she has been set apart.”[13]

Ethics requires the story; the story requires ethical application. Bartholomew and Goheen are correct, contending, “If we really want to recover the authority of Scripture in our lives then we urgently need to recover the Bible as a grand story that tells us of God’s ways with the world from creation to re-creation, from the Garden of Eden to the New Jerusalem. Only thus will we see out way clear to indwell God’s story and relate it to all of life today.”[14] The church that desires to bring the authority of Scripture to bear on its life needs to allow this grand story to shape it.

[1] Craig G. Bartholomew and Michal W. Goheen, “Story and Biblical Theology,” in Out of Egypt: Biblical Theology and Biblical Interpretation (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2004), 146.
[2] Christopher J.H. Wright, “Mission as a Matrix for Hermeneutics and Biblical Theology,” in Out of Egypt, 104.
[3] Andreas Köstenberger and Peter O’Brein. Salvation to the Ends of the Earth, 263.
[4] Bryan Chapel, Christ Centered Preaching (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1994), 79.
[5] Sidney Greidanus, The Modern Preacher and the Ancient Text: Interpreting and Preaching Biblical Literature (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing, 1988), 113.
[6] Kevin J. Vanhoozer, Craig G. Bartholomew and Daniel J. Treier, Theological Interpretation of the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008), 21.
[7] Kevin P. Emmert, “New Poll Finds Evangelicals’ Favorite Heresies”, Christianity Today (posted Oct 28, 2014). Accessed Oct 30, 2014 at http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2014/octover-web-only/mew-poll-finds-evangelicals-facorite-heresies.html
[8] Ibid
[9] Wright, The Mission of God, 358.
[10] Alasdair McIntyre, After Virtue: a Study in Moral Theory, 3rd edition (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007), 216. Daniel Taylor illustrates this wonderfully in his book The Skeptical Believer. He tells of how Miss Owens, his fifth grade teacher, asked him to choose Mary to dance with him when it came time for him to pick a dance partner in class. Mary had a bad leg and wasn’t one of the pretty or popular girls. She was always last to get picked. Ms. Owens encouraged young Daniel to make the choice because “It’s what a Christian should do.” Dr. Taylor points out that Ms. Owens wasn’t appealing to a command or a set of rules, but to the Christian story. She was asking Daniel to live as though that story was his story. He writes, “The story is much more likely to shape how I actually behave on a given day that propositions, rule, or analytical reason…I couldn’t have done anything else and still considered myself part of the story.”[10] Daniel Taylor, The Skeptical Believer: Telling Stories to Your Inner Atheist (St. Paul, MN: Bog Walk Press, 2013), 120ff.
[11] Michael R. Emlet, Crosstalk: Where Life and Scripture Meet (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2009), 51.
[12] Daniel M. Doriani, Putting the Truth to Work: The Theory and Practice of Biblical Application (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2001), 98. A secular study on teaching methodologies performed by Ken Bain shows that demonstrating how the content of your class connects with the questions students come into your class wrestling with greatly aids in “deep learning”. Bain noticed in his research that the best college educators grabbed their students’ interest at the outset and kept it “by helping students see the connection between the questions of the course and the questions that students might bring to that course.” Ken Bain. What the Best College Teachers Do (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2004), 31.
[13] Johannes Blauw, The Missionary Nature of the Church: A Survey of the Biblical Theology of Mission (London, UK: McGraw Hill Book Company, 1962), 82.
[14] Craig G. Bartholomew and Michael W. Goheen, “Story and Biblical Theology,” in Out of Egypt, 144.

Double Predestination

Another great question from the same friend who asked about God changing his mind. He writes, "My biggest question with Calvinism deals with the concept of double predestination. How do you handle this topic? Does that bother you?"

I did struggle with double predestination (election/reprobation) at one time. What helped ease the discomfort was understanding how they differ from one another. Predestination unto salvation require God to act positively (causally) in the life of the believer, extending grace that will awaken them to spiritual things and bring them to saving faith. Predestination unto judgment (reprobation) doesn’t require that kind of active (causal) influence of God. It simple requires that he not extend grace to some. Apart from this grace no one will saved, no one will come to faith and love for Christ. And since grace isn’t deserved, we can’t charge God with being unjust.

Scripture does speak of God hardening hearts, which seems to be close to a positive (causal) act of predestining someone to judgment (Pharaoh, the Canaanites, John 12:40, Romans 9:18). Even here though, this act of God, as I understand it, is a removal of restraint that leads to further hardening. The best way I’ve come up with to explain it as that sinful man is on a slippery slope. Sin threatens to pull him ever downward in deeper depravity, deeper hardness of heart, etc. Sinners aren’t as bad as they could be, but only by the grace of God. When God removes his grace (which again, we need to see as undeserved), it’s like removing the blocks behind a truck on a steep incline. The slide to hardness of heart is inevitable.

Systematicians speak of the ‘asymmetry of predestination’ – it’s a positive-negative type of action. One group he chooses and acts decisively to bring about faith, the other group he leaves in their sin, he passes over (which also is decisive in that no one will come to faith if they are passed over).

John  Gerstner was helpful for me as a was thinking through this years ago (this and freewill), but I can’t remember what works in particular (probably A Primer on Free Will or A Predestination Primer). Once, when asked if he believed in double predestination he came back, "It's double or nothing."

Augustine articulated this doctrine of election/reprobation before Calvin. Cavin himself defended it as biblical and logically necessary (election and reprobation being two sides of the same coin) but called it decretum horrible (dreadful decree). or . Once, when asked if he believed in double predestination he came back, "It's double or nothing." Augustine articulated this doctrine of election/reprobation before Calvin. Cavin himself defended it as biblical and logically necessary (election and reprobation being two sides of the same coin) but called it decretum horrible (dreadful decree).

It's a doctrine that I'd say is hard to accept (in part due to my fallen concepts of fairness, etc.) but also hard to get away from biblical and logically.

God does it, but through means

This morning I was reading a section of 2 Corinthians. I love 2 Corinthians 5 and the section on 'the ministry of reconciliation'. And 2 Corinthians 6:14-18 got me thinking about the church and its relationship to Israel again.  But it was 2 Corinthians 7:6-7 that I saw in a fresh light.

Paul reminds us that God provides comfort to the downtrodden, downcast, and discouraged. That's a truth we hold dearly when we grieve, mourn, struggle with sadness. We pray often that God would comfort others in the midst of loss or sorrow.

But does God offer his comfort directly to the soul of the downcast? Certainly he can, but in 2 Corinthians 7 the comfort comes to Paul through another, namely Titus. Titus came to Paul, and this coming was comfort to Paul; in fact, he counted it as God's comfort. Moreover, the comfort Titus extended to Paul was, in part at least, the encouragement that he was loved by the church at Corinth.

The application is simple, but important. When we pray that God will comfort others, we should be ready to extend God's comfort to them. Speak of God's promises. Extend God's love and presence by our love and presence.

And this principles extends to so many areas. We pray that someone will come to faith in Christ, and while its possible that God will send an angel to proclaim the gospel directly to the person,  it is far more likely that God is calling us to be his mouthpiece to extend the outward gospel call to the person we pray for. Or, we pray that someone will see the error of their ways and come to make more wise decision; and it's likely God is calling us to speak truth in love. We pray that God will meet the financial needs of someone we are close to; and it's likely that God is calling us to be generous and be a part of God meeting that need.

That's what it means to be God's instruments, God's vessels, God's ministers...God's people.

A Missional Reading of the Letter to Laodicea

The last of the seven, the letter addressed to the church at Laodicea records the harshest words from Jesus to any of the churches in Asia Minor. The words or rebuke for the Laodicean church are not balanced by any words of commendation, making the church at Laodicea unique in its total lack of health – as a whole they are “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked”. This assessment comes from the “the Amen, the faithful and true witness.”

His diagnosis would have seemed incongruous with the perceived situation of Laodicea, but his diagnosis is true. The city was wealthy; in fact, so wealthy it rebuilt itself, without Roman aide, after devastating earthquake in 60AD. Their ability to recover without aide was a source of great civic pride. The cities wealth came from various sources, including banking, trade, and textiles. Laodicea lay at the crossroads of major trade routes, serving as a gateway into Asia. In addition, Laodicea had a large textile industry and grew famous for the soft black wool they were able to produce.

Religiously, Laodicea was a diverse blend with a remarkably large pantheon of gods/goddesses. Many of the old Asian deities continued to be venerated even under Roman rule, though some were collapsed into the Greek/Roman system becoming associated with their gods. Worship of the traditional Phrygian god Men Karou and the temple of Men (also a healing center) were important to the city and it is likely that Men became associated with the Greek god Asklepios as both were healing gods. In addition, the god Zeus played a very prominent role in the religious life in Laodicea. The Laodicean version of Zeus was unique, however, being influenced by the traditional worship of Men and other Phrygian and possibly Syrian elements; thus, the chief god of the region was often referred to as Zeus Laodicenus.

The rise of the imperial cult was fairly natural and maybe even inevitable given the way the empire (and the emperor) was received by Asia. Augustus was received as the “Savior of the race of men”. In addition, Asian peoples worshipped Augustus as god incarnate and “hailed the birthday of Augustus as the beginning of a new year, and worshipped the incarnate god in public and in private.” In the early part of the first century, the city of Laodicea was in competition with other cities for a temple to Caesar. Toward the end of the 2nd century, Laodicea was so honored and given the title neokoros and the right to build a temple for the worship of Emperor Commodus.

When considering the religious life of Laodicea, we must not neglect to consider the Jews and the worship of YHWH. Under Antiochius III a good number of Diaspora Jews were relocated to the region, including the city of Laodicea, to provide stability to the region. These Jews were already more Hellenized than their Palestinian counterparts and received material benefits for relocation as well as ongoing religious freedoms. This population grew by to be quite large by the first century. Cicero records that a large sum of gold, 20 Roman pounds, was seized from Jews in Laodicea en route to the temple in Jerusalem in 62BC. Ramsay, citing Reinach, contends that this amount would be equivalent to 15,000 drachmas. Since the annual temple tax was two drachmas for every free adult, Ramsay concludes there was approximately 7500 Jewish freedman living in Laodicea.

No material witness to the existence of a large Jewish presence has yet been found in Laodicea. Based on this silence, some have concluded that the Jews of Laodicea must have been very Hellenized (making the identification of Jewish names on graves, etc., impossible). Ramsay, relying on material evidence from Hierapolis, notes many of the Jews in Laodicea must have been citizens and were quite possibly organized into trade guilds. Moreover, it is probable that the gospel was first carried to this group of Jews within Laodicea, as was Paul’s common practice.

The biblical witness seems to indicate that it was Epaphras who took the gospel to the people of Hierapolis and Laodicea instead of Paul directly (Colossians 4:12-13). The early converts to Christianity were, then, likely Hellenized Jews used to, in essence, blending in to the surrounding culture. This seems to have been a problem for the church whose mission demanded it stand out as a contrast society rather than blend in.

Jesus rebukes the church for being neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm. As such, Jesus threatens to spit them out of his mouth. Hemer in his Letters, argues that Jesus’ condemnation of the Laodicean lukewarmness should be understood in light of the tepid water supply on which the city depended. The city was supplied with water via an aqueduct system from springs six miles to the south. Though potable, the water was very hard being filled with mineral deposits. When the water reached the city it was not hot and so had no therapeutic value (as the hot springs in Hierapolis did). Neither was the water cold and refreshing (as the water supply in Colossae was). Thus, on this interpretation, the water was useless and by implications, the church is useless to Christ. The church was not fulfilling its missional purpose and had become a dead weight, a nonfunctioning member of the body.

This interpretation stands in contrast to the more traditional interpretation that has taken “lukewarmness to denote a compromise between the fervent ‘heat’ of a believer, and the indifferent ‘cold’ of an unbeliever.” Against the traditional understanding, Rudwick and Green have convincingly argued that both “cold” and “hot” are presented as “equally commendable alternatives”, which certainly would not have been the case if “cold”’ was intended to convey “indifferent.”

Koester offers a better alternative to Hemer and to the traditional interpretation. Koester agrees with Hemer that cold and hot both have positive connotations in the text. However, he points out that Laodicea was not the only city that had its water piped in via aqueduct. If this would make the water lukewarm and undrinkable then the water of other cities (including Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum and Sardis) would be equally objectionable. In fact, as Koester notes, the water of Laodicea seems to be of a better quality than the water Hierapolis.

A further problem with the approach taken by Hemer is the connection of the “hot” in v. 15-16 with the therapeutic hot springs of Hierapolis. There is no indication that the hot water of Hierapolis was desirable for drinking. Yet, the words of Jesus seem to imply that both the hot and cold waters (actually, nothing is said about water at all) are taken into the mouth. If the church was hot or cold they would avoid being spewed out, leading to the conclusion that both were desirable for drinking.

Koester suggests, quoting Plato, “[when] thirst is accompanied by heat, then the desire is for a cold drink; or, if the thirst is accompanied by cold, then the desire is for a hot drink. ” Koester builds a compelling case for this alternative, drawing upon ancient written sources which speak of the practice of warming wine to be drunk on cold days or cooling it on warm ones.

If one believes the imagery is a reference to drinking habits rather than the Laodicean water supply, then Jesus is condemning the Laodicean church for not being sufficiently distinguished from its surrounding. Hot water or wine is desirable when the weather is cold (and cold water or wine when it is hot) because it stands in stark contrast to the environment. Lukewarm is undesirable because it does not stand in bold relief and consequently has no ability to refresh. The churches lukewarmness means they have become no different from their surrounding culture, but have acclimated themselves to it to such a degree they are no longer the contrast community they have been called to be. Jesus’ response to this lukewarm church is graphic – he threatens to spit them out from his mouth.

It seems very possible that the believer’s material richness is what led them to compromise in ways that blunted their witness. Beale suggests that the Laodicean church may have even looked to their economic prosperity as sign of their spiritual health, even citing the connection between OT Israel’s prosperity and spiritual health as a precedent to support her case. But, if the church at Smyrna was poor because she had maintained her witness and been ostracized by her pagan city, then Laodicea is rich because she has accommodated her pagan culture and set aside her calling to be a witness in favor of comfort, ease and wealth.

Jesus counsels the church to look past the luster of her worldly wealth and buy true treasure from him – the same true treasure that made Smyrnan believers wealthy despite their material poverty. Also, Jesus offers the white garments of holiness (and triumph) to cover the churches nakedness. The shame of nakedness is a prophet symbol for judgment, but to receive fine new clothing was an honor. This reality was hidden from the eyes of the Laodicean church, showing that, despite being in a city famed for their medicinal eye salve, they were blinded and needed the healing balm of Jesus applied to their spiritual eyes so they could see their pitiful spiritual condition.

Remarkably, even in the midst of this most harsh letter, Jesus affirms his ongoing love for his church. The harsh words of rebuke are born out of his love and hope that the church will repent. Jesus invites them to open the door for him, so he can come in and eat with them. This is a wonderful invitation to a wayward church and her individual members to renew fellowship with their Lord, and fellowship in the most intimate manner.

This church was not a conquering church, but an assimilated one. However, to those who repent and press on in the calling of being witnesses, in being the salt and light Jesus demanded they be, Jesus offers the extraordinary promise of sharing his throne with them. While much regarding the exact timing and nature of the rule Christ offers his overcoming followers remains ambiguous, the honor is surely great. This honor, like all the rewards that have been promised in the preceding letters, presumes the accomplishment of God’s redemptive mission through Christ, the establishment of the eternal kingdom, and the church’s faithful participation in it (only then will she be granted this honor).

Does God Change His Mind?

Earlier this week a friend sent me a couple of really good questions, and with his permission, I'm posting questions and my responses here. The first question has to do with God changing his mind in Numbers 14:11-21 where Moses pleads with God to spare the Israelites. Some have suggested this text and the others like it support the notion of open theism - that God doesn't know the future acts of free persons (they are unknowable) but is a God who responds to these real choices. I'm not inclined (like, at all) to go this direction, so how do I deal with these passages as a Calvinist? Do these passages challenge my assumptions about sovereignty, God's foreknowledge, etc.

You run into a number of these kind of passages where God appears to change his mind. Abraham ‘negotiating’ with God; God relents from destroying Nineveh after they repent, etc. A few things have helped me understand these passages. First, the language of God changing his mind is, I believe, anthropomorphic – like God sitting or walking, etc. It puts the workings of God in language we relate to. Calvin wrote of God speaking to his children in lisps and whispers, like parents talk to infants. I think this is an example of this gracious condescension.

Second, it's helpful to understand that just as God ordains the final outcome also ordains the means he will use to achieve his desired outcome. Sometimes the ordained outcomes are different than God’s stated intentions, so when God pursues his ordained outcome it may appear as though God has changed his mind or ‘repented’.  The story of Jonah and Nineveh is a prime example of this. Jonah 3:10 says, “When God saw what they did, how they turned from their evil way, God relented of the disaster that he had said he would do to them, and he did not do it.”  Of course God’s intention was that they’d repent all along – that’s why he sent Jonah (and Jonah knew it, much to his chagrin - see Jonah 4:1-3).

The same principle appears to be at work in Numbers 14. God’s intentions were to put the people in the land. To wipe them out at this point would be to renege on promises he had made – something God will not do. So God ordains that Moses will act as an intercessor and that He will relent from judgment in response to Moses intercession (to prefigure Christ’s intercession).  This is, in essence, how prayer works too. God’s will is going to be accomplished, but he uses means – a prayer warrior, and evangelist, etc., to accomplish his will.

I don’t think these passages challenge (at least they don’t destroy) a strong view of God’s complete sovereignty. God was sovereign even over the kind of prayer Moses offered on behalf of the people and sovereignly determined he would relent in wrathful judgment in response to this prayer.

It is more troubling to consider what God truly changing his mind would mean. How can God be all wise if he changes his mind regarding his ultimate intentions? Was his initial intention wise? Was it right? If so, then how can changing your mind be wise? Right?  Open theism opens a scary can of worms unnecessarily and contrary to the overarching teaching of Scripture.