Edit: According to my Mom’s comment below, I conflated two guys in the charismatic movement named “Dick” in my memory.  I have revised this post to reflect the history accurately, and while I still maintain the “prophecy” by Dick Joyce was false, I withdraw any such suggestion about the late Dick Mills, who passed away last month.

My parents were involved in the Charismatic Movement in the 1970s when we lived in Southern California.  Much of my own suspicion about claims of supernatural happenings in Christian circles, actually comes from my experience with the Charismatics.  There’s a longer story there, and maybe someday I’ll tell more of it…suffice it to say for now that the vast bulk of all I’ve ever encountered claiming the miraculous work of God smells to me of delusion or fraud or both–not, please understand, because I believe God couldn’t do miraculous works today, but rather because I rather think he usually doesn’t, and more importantly that an awful lot of snake oil gets sold by Christians claiming otherwise.

Anyway, back in ’72 or ’73 we encountered this guy named Dick Mills when he spoke at our church in Upland, California.  He had a rather interesting ministry in that he claimed that when he met an individual, God would bring to his mind one or more of the many Bible promises he had memorized (and the man had a phenomenal memory), and with it give them a prophetic word that was uniquely suited to that individual.  Both Mom and Dad were given words by Mills during that service, which they believed were later shown to come true.  I haven’t asked them recently what their take on these experiences are 40 years on (Mom & Dad, you’re welcome to comment…I’d love to know), but this is my story anyway and not theirs.

Some time later, Mom and Dad went to a Charismatic conference (I believe it was called a “Holy Spirit Conference”) somewhere back East, and when they came home, they came with a tape of one of the sessions at which somehow another speaker named Dick Joyce had asked them both to stand up in what I gather was a rather large audience, and had given them a very specific prophecy regarding their four sons.  I clearly remember the message they played for us…Dick had told them that the Lord intended that of us four boys, one would become a powerful public speaker for God, two would be involved in Christian music ministry, and one would be, though “antisocial by the world’s standards,” a “conceptual thinker” about matters of faith.  I also recall that at least one later time Dick met our whole family at another event, and he remembered and reiterated this theme.

I grasped for this “word from the Lord” at the time.  It was a period of profound disappointment for me, where I saw all this activity around me that claimed to be the Holy Spirit working, and yet I always found myself feeling like the hungry little kid pressing his nose against the window of a restaurant where the happy patrons inside were enjoying a sumptuous feast.  This, I thought for a while, was the one place where God had actually directed some of this stuff to me.  I wanted that, and for a while I hung onto it.

So, forty years on and at the death of the prophet, what of his prophecy?  I’m in public health and government, my next brother down is a university chemistry professor, the next is an international businessman, and the youngest is a middle school science teacher.  Career isn’t everything though.  Can we be fit into any of those four categories?  Well, I suppose this blog might call me out as the conceptual thinker, but I’m hardly antisocial and am happy to speak in public.  None of us are remotely connected to music whether secular or sacred (and only two of us are particularly musical, me being one of the two).  Number three in the lineup is definitely a well-regarded public speaker, but it’s in the field of international economics, finance, and intellectual property.  Those may be articles of faith to some, I suppose, but. . .

The Bible makes some pretty harsh statements about prophets whose prophecies don’t come true.  Deut. 18:22 says:  “when a prophet speaks in the name of the Lord, if the word does not come to pass or come true, that is a word that the Lord has not spoken; the prophet has spoken it presumptuously. You need not be afraid of him.”  Earlier in the same passage (verse 20) God is even harsher:  “But the prophet who presumes to speak a word in my name that I have not commanded him to speak, or who speaks in the name of other gods, that same prophet shall die.”  I never heard Joyce speak in the name of another god, but by this yardstick, he spoke presumptuously (in fact, to suggest God has a personal word for nearly everyone you meet seems to me presumptuous on the face of it).

There may be times that Joyce truly brought a word from the Lord to other people than me.  I cannot testify for them.  But while we’re not dead yet, it would seem to me that 40 years on it is highly probable that the very-public prophecy given about my brothers and me was false and presumptuous.  Dick Joyce was, by my testimony at least, a false prophet.

Why do I tell you this story?  Two reasons, I suppose.  First because it’s one small window for those of my friends reading this blog, as to why I tend to be pretty suspicious of miraculous claims of any sort.  My cynicism has been a long time in growing, and it’s hard-earned.  But more importantly, I tell it because I think it is vitally important that we be careful not to misrepresent our own works (or our good luck) as God’s miraculous intervention.  Giving glory and thanks to God for blessings experienced is good and right.  But I see a tendency among many Christians to mistake warm or ecstatic feelings for the presence of God, and to chalk up every positive occurrence to God’s miraculous intervention.  The unfortunate corollary to this way of interpreting life, however, is that the person who’s depressed or whose life isn’t going so well, feels abandoned by the same God that’s supposedly “blessing” the fortunate. This tragic interpretation can lead that unfortunate person to doubt the whole enterprise…I know well, because it’s been me on more than one occasion.

God may in fact do stuff in the church of today like we read about in the Book of Acts, sometime and somewhere.  But if he ever does, it won’t take manufactured faith to see it.  Until then, we would do well to be a little more circumspect in our claims of divine intervention.

I was asked a question, through email, recently about N.T Wright’s view of Justification. Since I wrote a long answer, I figured I would post it as well on our blog.

N.T Wright has a great book that I though was extremely useful called The Climax of the Covenant. In this book he outlines how Jesus and the cross were the climactic event of God’s covenant with Israel. The law was there simply to point out sin (the wrong) and provide insights on how to truly bear and steward the image of God. God’s covenant with Israel, in this perspective, is not that Israel as a people, nor the law, nor sacrifices, etc., were the answer or solution to sin, only that the answer and solution to sin would come through Israel. N.T. Wright’s analogy for this was that Israel is like the bomb squad whose job is to manage the bomb until the time is right then lay it at the foot of the cross. His point was more often than not Israel believed they were also to diffuse the bomb and this is not the case. So covenantal theology that understands the covenant and how Jesus fits as the story of Israel’s climax is a core point.

The second is a more holistic understanding of sin (the wrong). For this the law court metaphor works quite well and I think brings even deeper understanding than most evangelicals allow it to. To fully understand the law court analogy we have to have the judge (God), the defendant (humanity) and the plaintiff (satan) all present. For this an analogy from The Lion, The Which and the Wardrobe is helpful. I think C.S. Lewis was onto something with how he presented this scenario.

When Edmund, representing humanity, comes into the camp Aslan takes him and speaks with him. Aslan then comes out and announces that the matter with Edmund has been settled (between Aslan and Edmund), Aslan had forgiven him. All of this without a sacrifice and without a substitution (yet)… Then the White Witch enters and says not so fast Aslan there is a matter that needs to be settled according to the law, she (the law and satan) still had a claim against Edmund. As we all know Aslan takes his place thus dealing with the claim the White Witch (satan) had on Edmund (humanity) once and for all.

This view I think is a much more biblical presentation of penal substitutionary atonement. It is penal only in the sense of the matter of the law, and substitutionary in that Jesus took our place in the matter of satan’s claim on humanity thus setting us free once and for all. But it does not present an angry God or one where we are starting off on the wrong foot with and someone needs to take the punishment to fulfill God’s wrath. It is more about settling the matter with the one who brings the claim up because of the law.

So back to the courtroom setting. Because of the scenario above, the matter has been dealt with. Satan has accepted the substitution once and for all and released his claim thus acknowledging the matter has been resolved and he will not bring it up again. There is to be no re-trial.. Satan believed that the Son of God who is the only person who can threaten his Kingdom was going to be killed (and not raised again) and was a fair trade for all of humanity.

So Justification in light of all of this is simply God finding humanity to be in the right and of no wrong doing. N.T. Wright points out what is different from most evangelical views, including those like John Piper, which is that justification is not about imputed righteousness in that we somehow become or attain righteous attributes from God. It is simply only that we are found in the right and to be not guilty (even though we still are because we still sin) God does not even acknowledge it is there, it is gone, forever, not just covered, transferred, etc. There is no longer any claim against us because of Jesus because the accuser lost the right to accuse us any more in accepting the substitution.

This, I would contend, even when reading Paul’s covenantal theology and even his understanding of sin, law, courtroom, etc., that this view is the way Paul understood all the Jewish heritage, with the amazing act of the cross and now into the Kingdom where God is becoming King through Jesus (his words) because of the resurrection (Jesus’s coronation) of the Kingdom that is inaugurated but not yet consummated.

No, that word “inclusive” does not mean what you  (probably) think it means…not this time, anyway.  The following has nothing to do with the gender of language, gender of leaders, sexual preference of anybody, or any of the other popular uses of the term.   I have been thinking, lately, of how exclusive the choice of “worship” focus, language, and music often are.  As with so many things, I believe the church has regularly misdirected worship in some important ways.

In this discussion I’m going to beg the question of whether the stuff we characterize as “worship” has any relationship to the biblical concept(s) encapsulated in the word…if you want to explore that further check out my mom’s excellent article on the subject.  For now we’ll just work with the common English usage: that is, some combination of music, readings, and other material designed–purportedly at least–to focus the corporate body on God and his work.

Two songs I’ve heard in the past week illustrate my point.  The first is the old hymn “Amazing Grace,” just sung at the funeral of my 102-year-old Grandmother:

Amazing Grace!  How sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost, but now I’m found

Was blind, but now I see.

(John Newton, 1779)

The second I heard last Sunday at church, and yesterday afternoon at an Arby’s in South Carolina (KLOV on the PA system…ugh!), “Forever Reign” by Hillsong:

Oh, I’m running to your arms, I’m running to your arms,

The riches of your love, will always be enough.

Nothing compares to your embrace,

Light of the world, forever reign!

Both of these songs are deeply meaningful to some people.  Both even focus some people’s attention at least partly on God.  But I can’t honestly sing either one.

“Amazing Grace,” of course, was written by John Newton who, before he believed in Christ, was captain of a slave ship, and a rather cruel one by his own account.  When Newton described the grace of God having “saved a wretch like me,” he was acutely aware whereof he spoke.  I have many friends who, having brought out of some pretty awful circumstances, likewise can testify to having been saved by Christ from some truly wretched things.  It’s certainly biblical too, as the apostle Paul also looked back on his persecution of the church and called himself the worst of sinners (see 1 Tim. 1:12-16).  But it is not universal. I make no claims to be a paragon of virtue, but I’ve had a pretty ordinary life in many respects and would not characterize any period of my own experience as “wretched.”  I have never been as blind as the song implies, yet even now I’m unsure just how much I see.  I do not discount the pilgrimage of those for whom “Amazing Grace” is a very real testimony, but it is not mine.

Likewise, “Forever Reign” paints the image of us running to the Father’s arms. I know that image intimately as I’m a daddy. I love it when my kids charge recklessly into my extended embrace…but I have never experienced anything remotely approximating that image with God.  I know what a paternal hug feels like, and God may give those to some of his followers, but I’m not one of them.

I do not mean to suggest that those who do find these songs represent their faith, ought not sing them at all. It’s even appropriate to sing them publicly in testimony if true. But they’re inappropriate for corporate worship, I suggest, for the simple reason that only part of the assembly can sing them with honesty. Better by far would be to select songs–old and new–that emphasize God’s goodness, power, sovereignty, and works.  These are true for all of us, do not depend on personal experience whether real or imagined, and most importantly direct our attention AWAY from self-destructive navel-gazing and TOWARD our creator and king.   Just maybe, such a shift in content might remind us that we aren’t the center of God’s universe after all.  And while we’re at it, maybe we’d make it just a tiny bit less likely people would feel the need to manufacture religious experience in order to fit into our molds.