The Spirit Himself in the believer is this seal, as is indicated by verse 14, which calls Him the “earnest [or deposit, or down payment] of our inheritance.”  The Spirit seals us in Christ:  “In whom [that is, in Christ] … ye were sealed.”  There is absolutely no assurance apart from Christ.  Nor does the Spirit give any assurance apart from Christ and trust in Christ as He is presented in the “word of truth.”  All Christ-less “mystical experiences,” in which the Spirit and the mystic, or experientialist, have their delightful tête-à-tête, are mere fantasy, and of the devil.  “In Christ you trusted; in Christ you believed; in Christ, you were sealed.”  And verse 14 adds that the Spirit is the earnest to us until the completion in us of the redemption of the cross of Christ.

            Of great importance is the teaching of Ephesians 1:13 that the sealing with the Spirit is immediately connected with one’s trusting in Christ upon hearing the Word of truth.  Introduction by the Authorized Version of the word “after” could be misleading, as though the believer’s sealing follows his believing in time, perhaps even a long time.  Literally, the Greek text reads, “. . . in whom also having believed, you were sealed with the holy Spirit of promise.”  There is no “after” in the text.  When one hears the gospel of Jesus Christ and believes in Jesus Christ, he is sealed—immediately, as part and parcel of the work of the Spirit in him giving faith.  Immediately, as an essential aspect of faith in Christ, the believer is assured of his salvation, now and in the day of the “redemption of the purchased possession.”

            This is the nature of the saving work of the Spirit.

            Indeed, this is the nature of the indwelling Spirit Himself.  He Himself is the seal—the certainty, the assurance—of the believer.     

            This is the nature of the indwelling Spirit in every one who trusts in Christ, having heard the Word of truth.

            Those Puritans who separated assurance from faith by many years, often by an entire lifetime, grounded their dreadful error in a mistaken interpretation of Ephesians 1:13.   They explained the sealing with the Spirit as separated from, and following in time—often many years—one’s believing the Word of truth.  In some of the Puritans, this error was aggravated by their teaching that the sealing, when it finally happens, is such a direct and immediate testimony of the Spirit as amounts to the mysterious experience of “overpowering light” (see J. I. Packer, “The Witness of the Spirit:  The Puritan Teaching,” in Puritan Papers, vol. 1, P&R, 2000, pp. 17-29). 

            This Puritan doctrine of sealing (which, of course, puts assurance forever out of the reach of all but a few elite Christians) opened the way to Wesley’s heresy of the second blessing and then to the charismatic movement with its doctrine of the baptism with the Spirit. 

            The English preacher D. Mar­tyn Lloyd-Jones strongly advocated the separation of sealing with the Spirit from faith in Christ, with appeal to Ephesians 1:13.   In this way, he became the instrument by whom the Puritan doctrine of assurance led on to the acceptance of the charismatic movement, not only in his own congregation, but also widely in so-called evangelicalism in England.

Gift

            The comfort, the sealing, the witness of the Spirit of Christ, that is, assurance of salvation, is a gift.  Like every other aspect of salvation and like salvation as a whole, assurance is pure, free grace.

            The Spirit works assurance in all of God’s children, not because they deserve it, not because they have made themselves worthy of it by many years of maturing in their faith, and not because they themselves work for it and finally obtain it by their noble efforts.  God forbid!  But the Spirit gives God’s people assurance because God graciously is pleased, not only to adopt children, but also to have these children know Him as their Father, and themselves, His children for Christ’s sake.

            The Spirit gives assurance by giving faith.  Faith is a gift.  One of the two elements of true faith, according to Q. 21 of the Heidelberg Catechism, is assurance.  Giving faith, the Spirit gives assurance.

            To be condemned is the Puritan doctrine that assurance is something Christians must work for, must obtain themselves by their hard work, and must make themselves worthy of over many years.  This doctrine concerning the assurance of salvation is not a whit different from the teaching of Rome and of Arminianism:  salvation by man’s own efforts, his own heroic running and willing.  The result is the same:  widespread, God-dishonoring, destructive doubt.

            J. I. Packer describes this Puritan error (and really defends it) in his article in the book, Puritan Papers, referred to above.  Most Christians do not have assurance at once when they believe.  Assurance is reserved for only a few Christians:  “God’s best and dearest friends.”  Most of those who do finally obtain assurance get it many years after their conversion. 

            But what now accounts for God’s favoritism?  What makes these few Christians His dearest friends?  Why do these few finally get assurance?

            Not God’s mercy!

            But their own efforts!

            “Assurance,” writes Packer, describing the Puritan doctrine, “is not normally enjoyed except by those who have first laboured for it and sought it, and served God faithfully and patiently without it” (p. 20).

            This doctrine is a form of the heresy of salvation by works.  The salvation in view is assurance.  The works are laboring, seeking, and serving faithfully and patiently.  The doctrine breeds, and breathes, pride.  A few worthy souls get assurance by their own hard work.  The doctrine produces doubt.  Who can ever be sure that he has worked long and hard enough?

            To set the believer to the work of energetic service of God, hard spiritual struggle, and intense Christian warfare for many years, while depriving him of the assurance of salvation, is like telling a man to run a race, after you have cut his legs off.  There can be no spiritual struggle, Christian warfare, or service of God without assurance of salvation.

            I speak personally, but in the name of the children of the covenant.

            I have believed since my earliest years.  If I had to fight my spiritual battles uncertain of God’s love and my salvation, I would have perished in my warfare a hundred, no, a thousand times.  If I had to serve God doubting whether He was my Father, I would have quit before I began.

            I fought and endured, I patiently served, I struggled in my calling in the covenant of grace, sometimes intensely, because I was certain of the love of God for me personally in Jesus Christ my Lord.

            Doubters cannot faithfully and patiently serve God.  Doubters cannot struggle and fight in and on behalf of the covenant and kingdom of Christ.  Doubters cannot live a vigorous, healthy, joyful Christian life of holiness.

            Whatever got into the heads of the Puritans, learned divines and in many respects wise teachers of the gospel, when it came to the vital matter of assurance?  Why do Reformed ministers doggedly follow them today?

            If I have a sick child, mentally and emotionally sick, who is always dragging himself about the house asking, “Am I your child?  Did you beget or adopt me?  Do you really love me?” it is nonsense to demand of him a vigorous life.  He will contribute precious little to the healthy life of the family.  He will be no great joy to his parents.  The poor fellow must be healed. 

            Assurance is not the achievement of sick, doubting Christians.

            Assurance is a gift.  It is the gift of the grace of God in Jesus Christ by the Spirit.

            Reformed thinking about assurance does not speak of a “quest” for assurance.  That is Puritan thinking and talk, implying the obtaining of assurance by one’s own efforts.  The Reformed faith confesses the “gift” of (full) assurance.  Assurance is an essential element of faith (Heid. Cat., Q. 21).  Faith is the gift of God (Canons, III, IV/14).  Shall we indeed speak of a necessary “quest” for faith?

            Reformed believer, do not work for assurance.  Rather, receive it, and enjoy it, by and with faith.

            Assurance of salvation, like the salvation of which it is a precious part, is not of works, lest anyone should boast (for example, of being one of God’s best and dearest friends).

            Assurance is of grace, so that he that glories should glory in the Lord.  

P.S.

            In the end, time ran out after all.  There is more to be said about assurance.  I have more to say about assurance.  The series on assurance is unfinished.  Perhaps, another day, in other space.

Finally

            For the past sixteen years, it has been my responsibility, but also my privilege, to serve the members of the Protestant Reformed Churches as editor of the Standard Bearer.  In some small way, I may hope, a much wider audience has benefited.  Nearly half the present subscriptions to the magazine go outside the Protestant Reformed Churches.  Responses, public and private, have indicated appreciation, as well as vigorous opposition, from without.

            Although the Standard Bearer exists primarily for the building up of the members of the Protestant Reformed Churches in the truth, it is also a voice, sometimes friendly, at other times critical, but always deeply interested, to the entire Reformed community worldwide.  I need not mention the issues, controversies, and developments affecting the broad Reformed community that were addressed in the editorials.  Even when I was speaking to the Protestant Reformed Churches, I seldom forgot the distant relations listening in.  To paraphrase the church father, “I am Reformed.  I esteem nothing Reformed foreign to me.”

            I acknowledge, not the assistance, but the cooperation of the managing editor.  We simply worked together to publish a magazine that would be the very best in appearance and content we could make it.   

            At long last, I may, and must, publicly express my gratitude for the help of my wife in this work now completed.  During the first five hectic years, without complaint she virtually gave up having a husband.  She has always read the editorials and other articles of mine before they were published, with a critical eye.  Now and again, she wisely moderated, not the zeal of the editor, but certain sharper expressions of his zeal (which moderation will come as a surprise to some).

            The Standard Bearer has not deviated from the course laid out by my illustrious predecessors.  It maintains, develops, applies, defends, and boldly promotes creedal Reformed Christianity as confessed by the Protestant Reformed Churches.  God be praised!

            We may confidently expect the same from the capable men who now take on the editorship.  They will, of course, add their own insights in their own styles.  God bless and prosper their work!

            Eighty years of faithful witness to the truth of the sovereignty and glory of the God and Father of Jesus Christ, and our God and Father for Christ’s sake!

            The Standard Bearer is now the oldest continuously published, subscription-based Reformed magazine in North America—a tribute, not from associations of periodicals, but from the providence of God.

            May its witness long continue!

            May its witness increasingly be heard!

            Finally, then,

Review Article:

Prof. David Engelsma 

A Defense of the Presbyterian Doctrine of Infant Baptism—Finally

            The Presbyterian Doctrine of Children in the Covenant:  An Historical Study of the Significance of Infant Baptism in the Presbyterian Church, by Lewis Bevens Schenck.  Phillipsburg, New Jersey:  P&R, 2003.  Pp. xvii + 188.  $15.99 (paper). 

Infant Salvation in the Covenant

        The message of this reprint of a work first published in 1940 is precious.  It is traditional, confessional Presbyterian (Reformed) doctrine that infant baptism means the infant salvation of the elect children of godly parents.  Parents and the church must view and rear the baptized children as elect and regenerated.  “The doctrine of the historic Reformed church [is] … that ‘since the promise is not only to parents but to their seed, children are by the command of God to be regarded and treated as of the number of the elect’” (p. 127).  Right, covenantal upbringing consists of the gradual nurture of the children in the salvation they possess from infancy. 

Christian nurture was, then, the appointed, the natural, the normal, and ordinary means by which the children of believers were made truly the children of God.  Consequently it was the method which these leaders believed should be principally relied upon and employed for the salvation of their children.  They recognized a marvelous adaptation of this means to the end which it was intended to accomplish, and they were convinced that success was assured to them in its use by the covenant promise of God (p. 145).

            Schenck demonstrates that this doctrine of infant baptism was that of John Calvin, Charles Hodge, Abraham Kuyper, and others, as well as that of all the Reformed confessions.  Reformed orthodoxy was in fundamental agreement with Calvin.

Baptism has no significance for Calvin if it does not mean admission to the visible church on the ground of the covenant promise, which includes the presumptive regeneration of the children in the covenant.  Calvin looks upon the child in the covenant as God’s child, forgiven of sin and regenerated, with the new life as a latent seed, already at work in its heart.  The child then opens its eyes redeemed on a world in which by careful nurture it is expected to grow and develop in the Christian ideal of life and character.  The important point is that this child is presumptively a Christian (p. 13).

            Although “presumptive” and “presumptively” do not do justice to Calvin, for Calvin did not presume, but believed that infant baptism means infant regeneration, and although the analysis does not make as plain as it could that Calvin referred to the elect children of godly parents, this account of Calvin’s doctrine is right.  Calvin saw infant baptism as signifying infant salvation.

            That this was Calvin’s teaching, Schenck proves by this quotation from Calvin:

The offspring of believers are born holy, because their children, while yet in the womb, before they breathe the vital air, have been adopted into the covenant of eternal life.  Nor are they brought into the church by baptism on any other ground than because they belonged to the body of the Church before they were born.  He who admits aliens to baptism profanes it ….  For how can it be lawful to confer the badge of Christ on aliens from Christ.  Baptism must, therefore, be preceded by the gift of adoption, which is not the cause of half salvation merely, but gives salvation entire:  and this salvation is afterwards ratified by Baptism (p. 13).

Presumptive Unregeneration

            Schenck takes dead aim at the radically un-Reformed doctrine of infant baptism that was prominent in Presbyterian churches already in 1940 and that prevails today.  This is the teaching that infant baptism means nothing more than that the children of believers are formally and externally set apart as likely, or possible, candidates for salvation in later years.  The children are viewed, and taught to view themselves, as unregenerated.  As regards their spiritual condition, baptized children of believers are no different from the ungodly world. 

            A Presbyterian theologian who taught this un-Presbyterian doctrine of infant baptism put it this way:

While they [baptized children of believers] are in the church by external union, in the spirit and temper of their minds they belong to the world.—Of the world and in the Church—this expresses precisely their status, and determines the mode in which the church should deal with them (p. 93).

            Accordingly, parents and church do not rear the children in godliness.  Rather, they try to convert them, just as missionaries try to convert the heathen outside the church.  And the conversion looked for by parents, church, and children alike is a dramatic experience.

            This is the miserable doctrine of infant baptism taught and practiced today by many churches that profess the covenant with the children of believers and baptize infants.  The doctrine is not Presbyterian (Reformed).  It is Baptist through and through.  This is why these nominally Presbyterian (Reformed) ministers can readily cooperate with those who are Baptist in name as well as in fact.  An outstanding instance is the Banner of Truth organization, headquartered in Edinburgh, Scotland.  Presbyterian in reputation and much of its leadership, the organization and its ministries allow themselves to be heavily influenced by Baptists and the Baptist denial of the covenant.  The editor of the magazine and now also the Editor of the Trust are Baptists, to say nothing of many of the writers and lecturers.

            The timeliness of Schenck’s warning against this apostasy from the Presbyterian doctrine of infant baptism and therefore from the covenant is illustrated by the publication last year of a fat volume in which many Presbyterian and Reformed theologians from many different denominations advocated and defended the doctrine of infant baptism Schenck condemns.  The book is erroneously and misleadingly entitled The Case for Covenantal Infant Baptism.  Ironically, the publisher is the same as the publisher of The Presbyterian Doctrine of Children in the Covenant (see my review article, “A Presbyterian Case for the Baptist Rejection of Infant Baptism,” in the February 15, 2004 issue of the Standard Bearer).

Anti-Covenant Revivals

            The cause of the falling away of Presbyterians from the Presbyterian doctrine of infant baptism was the “Great Awakening” under Jonathan Edwards, the Tennents, Whitefield, and others in the early eighteenth century.  The theory of the salvation of the church and of individuals by revivals insists that salvation be a matter of dramatic conversion experiences.  Applied to the children of believers, as it was by all the revivalists (Edwards famously regarded his own and others’ baptized children as “little vipers”), the notion of revival destroyed the truth of infant baptism.  In its place came the hope that God would one day save the little baptized heathen by a conversion experience urgently exhorted upon, and often extorted from, the children by parents and wandering “evangelists.”

The Great Awakening made an emotional experience, involving terror, misery, and depression, the only approach to God.  A conscious conversion from enmity to friendship with God was looked upon as the only way of entrance into the kingdom.  Sometimes it came suddenly, sometimes it was a prolonged and painful process.  But it was believed to be a clearly discernible emotional upheaval, necessarily “distinct to the consciousness of its subject and apparent to those around.”  Preceding the experience of God’s love and peace, it was believed necessary to have an awful sense of one’s lost and terrifying position.  Since these were not the experiences of infancy and early childhood, it was taken for granted children must, or in all ordinary cases would, grow up unconverted.  Infants, it was thought, needed the new birth, as well as adults.  They could not be saved without it.  But the only channel of the new birth which was recognized was a conscious experience of conviction and conversion.  Anything else, according to Gilbert Tennent, was a fiction of the brain, a delusion of the Devil.  In fact, he ridiculed the idea that one could be a Christian without knowing the time when he was otherwise (p. 71).   

Heathenizing the Church

            This un- (and anti-) Presbyterian doctrine of infant baptism is grievous error.  It is sin against infant baptism and covenantal salvation.  In addition, it implies a doctrine of the church that is both defaming of and dangerous to the body of Christ.  The church is described as a gathering of regenerated (adult believers) and unregen­erated (children).  As an assembly whose membership includes a large number of unregenerated persons—all the children—the church becomes a mission field.  Preaching to the church, which is by definition the assembly of those called out of the ungodly world, takes the incongruous and disobedient form of mission-preaching to heathens, albeit baptized heathens.  Christ tells pastors to feed His sheep and lambs.  The revivalist and Baptistic doctrine of infant baptism in Presbyterian and Reformed churches has pastors feeding the sheep and converting their “little vipers.”

            Later, when the unregenerated children grow up and marry, these unbelievers are permitted to baptize their own unregenerated children.  Although Schenck does not make the observation, what this amounts to is the horrific doctrine that God establishes His covenant  with unbelievers and their unsaved children. 

            Further, since the children are viewed as unregenerated, no church discipline can be exercised upon them.

What was the use of judicial discipline for children in the covenant, anyway, it was argued?  No claim was made that they were in Christ, and their offenses were consequently no reproach to His name.  Besides, it was thought to be absurd to use spiritual remedies on one who had “no adaptation to receive them,” who had “never heard the voice of God in his soul” (p. 95).

            Schenck is right, explaining Calvin’s doctrine:  To baptize infants while denying the infant salvation of elect children is “a denial of the truth of God’s covenant promise” (p. 21).

            It is worth noting that Schenck shows that historic Presbyterianism has always distinguished “the essence and the administration of the covenant” (p. 122).  The administration of the covenant includes many who are not saved.  The “essence” of the covenant is enjoyed only by the elect.  All the children of believing parents are in the sphere of the covenant.  Only the elect children are in the covenant.

            The Presbyterian Doctrine of Children in the Covenant is no longer the doctrine of covenant children of most Presbyterians.  May it become so once again. 

Taking Heed to the Doctrine:

Rev. James Laning

Rev. Laning is pastor of Hope Protestant Reformed Church in Walker, Michigan.

The Apostolicity of the Church (1)

            Reformed believers officially confess to believe the apostolicity of the church.  The Nicene Creed is one of our official creeds, and in this creed we confess to believe “one holy catholic and apostolic church.”  Thus it is very important that we understand the meaning of the church’s apostolicity, so that we may confess this truth with understanding from the heart.

            When considering the apostolicity of the church we once again make a distinction between the church as the universal body of the elect and the church as an institute upon this earth.  First of all, it is the church as the universal body of the elect that is apostolic.  The passages cited below to prove the apostolicity of the church refer to the church as the universal body of Christ.  But this truth also applies to the church as institute, and thus it is proper to refer to a faithful church upon this earth as an apostolic church.

The Apostolic Church: the Church Holding to the Apostolic Doctrine

            That the church is apostolic means that it is built upon the truth set forth by the apostles in the New Testament.  Apostolicity has to do with the very foundation of the church.  A true church is built upon the Truth, since Christ is the Truth, and this Truth has been set forth infallibly for us by the divinely inspired apostles in the New Testament.

            The Scriptures make specific reference to this in a number of places.  First, there is Ephesians 2:20, which says that the church is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone.”  Here the truth revealed through “the apostles and prophets” is referred to as the foundation of the church.  The prophets referred to in this passage were the inspired prophets of Paul’s day, as is evident from the other references to “the prophets” in the book of Ephesians (cf. Eph. 3:5; 4:11).

            In Revelation 21:14, we read the following symbolic description of the heavenly city, the new Jerusalem:  “And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.”  Clearly the reference here is to the apostles not as mere men, but as ambassadors of Christ who spoke the words of Christ.  To be built upon the apostles is to be built upon the truth spoken and written by the apostles.

            That this is the idea is found more explicitly elsewhere in Scripture.  In Acts 2:42, we read that the believers in the new dispensation “continued stedfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship.”  Still today the believers are those who remain “in the apostles’ doctrine.”  A church that is truly apostolic is one that continues to proclaim the same truth that the apostles proclaimed and wrote down infallibly in the New Testament Scriptures.

Apostolicity & the Relation of the New Testament to the Old

            But if the church is built upon the truth set forth by the apostles in the New Testament, what does that mean for the Old Testament?  Obviously it does not mean that the New Testament writings are the only ones to which we hold.  Rather, it means that when one is holding to the truth set forth by the apostles in the New Testament, he is, in fact, also holding to the truth set forth in the Old Testament, since it is the same truth taught in both the Old and New Testaments.  In addition to this, however, it does mean that there is a certain priority to the New Testament.  It is in the New Testament that we have a divinely inspired explanation of what is taught in the law and the prophets of the Old Testament.  For example, the truth of the Trinity is taught in the Old Testament, but in our creeds we confess that this truth “which appears to us somewhat obscure in the Old Testament is very plain in the New” (Belgic Confession, Article 9).

            To reject the New Testament explanation of the Old Testament is really to deny the apostolicity of the church.  For example, there are many who take the Old Testament promises concerning all nations coming to Christ, and say that these promises are teaching that one day soon every nation on this earth will be governed by Christian rulers.  Such people try to prove their position by quoting frequently from the Old Testament, while ignoring the apostolic explanation of these promises that is found in the New Testament.  The apostles said that the promises concerning all nations coming to Christ are fulfilled when a remnant from the different nations is converted and believes in Jesus (Acts 15:17).   The rejection of this is a rejection of the truth of Scripture and very really a rejection of the apostolicity of the church.

A Succession of the Truth, not of Persons

            The Romish church says that she alone is the apostolic church because, so she claims, there is a continuous line of succession from the present pope back to the apostle Peter, and from the bishops in the Romish church back to the other apostles.  Peter, they say, was the first pope and the rock upon which their church is built.  To prove this, they have invented a long line of popes, starting with Peter and ending with their present leader, Pope John Paul II.

            Contrary to this, we say that maintaining the truth taught by the apostles is what is important.  Let us say, just for the purpose of argument, that Peter was the first pastor of the church in Rome.  This would by no means prove that the Romish church today is an apostolic church.  All around the world there are churches that once had faithful pastors proclaiming the truth of the gospel, which now have completely apostatized.  We know from the epistle to the Romans found in Scripture that there once was a sound church in Rome, a church that was founded by the teaching of the apostles.  But this church later apostatized, so that it no longer was an apostolic church.  At the time of the Protestant Reformation, the Reformers knew that the Romish church had a long history, going back to the days of the apostles, but the Romish church had long ago departed from the teaching of the apostles.  The Reformers reformed the church by breaking away from this apostate institute and forming congregations that were based squarely and solely on the truth set forth by the apostles in the Scriptures.

            The Romish church, of course, rejects this, and appeals to her “catholicity” to prove her “apostolicity.”  The church that is truly holding to the truth taught by the apostles will be a church visibly spread throughout the whole world, she says, and churches holding to false doctrines will be confined to only a few regions.  But this is based, in part, on Rome’s false view of what is meant by the catholicity of the church, a view that was refuted in the previous article.  There is one central mark that indicates whether or not an instituted church is a true manifestation of the one catholic and apostolic church, and that is the mark of the pure preaching of the apostles’ gospel.  A true church is a church that preaches the apostolic doctrine, no matter how small she may be, and no matter how few like-minded churches she can find with whom she can enjoy fellowship.

            Remaining steadfast in the apostles’ doctrine is our calling.  It is the church that does this, and only the church that does this, that also “groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord” (Eph. 2:21).   It is the apostolic church that is holy, living apart from this world and in close covenant communion with her God and Husband.  

All Around Us:

Rev. Kenneth Koole

Rev. Koole is pastor of Grandville Protestant Reformed Church in Grandville, Michigan.

Who Is to Blame for the Scandal of Rome’s Priests (OR: What Else Would One Expect?)

            In the wake of Rome’s sex-abuse scandal the U.S. conference of Catholic bishops undertook an investigation into the allegations against its priests and the irresponsible response of its Bishops.  The results have recently been published.  According to the study, the bishops concluded that 4,392 priests allegedly have abused more than 10,000 victims over a 50-year time span.  [You may be sure this is the most favorable estimation (and spin) possible.]

            What is noteworthy is that the study was honest enough to acknowledge that the molesting priests were by and large homosexual.  This is one of the dirty little secrets of the homosexual lifestyle.  From the homosexual population come the predators of young teenage boys.  And it has nothing to do with consent.  The gay-liberation movement (with its supporting politicians) has not welcomed such press.  The liberal news media has acted equally ignorant that such might be the case.  Truth is not what such folks are looking for.

            Now, however, in response to Rome’s bishops’ study, a book has been written by an openly homosexual author, David France.  It is entitled Our Fathers: The Secret Life of the Catholic Church in an Age of Scandal.  In this book, in a surprising admission, France acknowledges that the offending priests were homosexual after all.  He had little choice in the matter.  He interviewed a number of the priests involved, and they all informed him that they were gay.  Um-m­-m-m.…  Imagine that!  Now what?

            What should not surprise us is where Mr. France has decided to put the blame.  It is not on the offenders themselves, of course.  In an article entitled “‘Homophobia’ Blamed for Priests’ Abuse”  (Agape Press), reporters Ed Vitagliono and Sherrie Black inform us just where Mr. France thinks the blame should be.  In an interview by a pro-gay magazine, France stated 

            “[W]e now know from talking to these priests [who molested teenagers]: they’re gay,” France told The Advocate,  a magazine targeted to the homosexual community, adding, “And if they were gay men, we should ask ourselves why that was happening.  What caused it?”

            What is France’s explanation in Our Fathers?  “What I argue is that these guys represent homosexuality in pure and total repression,” he said.  “This is what successful repression looks like: men so alienated from their own sense of self that their sexual expression came out in explosive ways.”

            So, it is all due to “homophobia.”  The “real” offenders are not the priests who did the molesting.  Rather, they themselves, like those upon whom they preyed, are to be numbered amongst the victims.  The real “perps” are those in society and church “guilty” of condemning homosexuality and calling such behavior a forbidden thing.  This means, of course, that those really to blame for this whole sordid mess are those who had nothing to do with the scandalous behavior and those with whom adolescent boys would be perfectly safe.  Why of course!  Who else? 

            Unbelievable!  The brazenness and illogicalness of the reasoning leaves one gasping.  But we live in an age when such reasoning is more and more considered compelling and sound.  An intellectual madness rules.

            The question that begs to be asked of France and his cronies is, “So what are you implying?  If I understand you right, it is this — the desire for adolescent boys is due to the repression of homosexual desires.  Therefore we should let such men pursue their desires (just be themselves), and, if society and church would simply give these men free rein to pursue their cravings, then suddenly young boys would be safe.  In other words, the only way to make sure your adolescent boys are safe from such men, is to let such men loose amongst your adolescent boys.”  Amazing.  Who has heard of anything quite so “insane.”  Yet, today this makes perfect sense.

            Fortunately, not everyone as yet has bought into such “reasoning.”  The article also points out

That explanation is rejected by pro-family groups.  “So France’s solution would be for the Catholic Church to embrace homosexuality and allow practicing homosexuals to serve as priests?  And then the abuse would stop?” asked Tim Wildmon, president of the American Family Association.  “That’s ridiculous fantasy denied by history and the undercurrents within gay culture.  The real solution is to make sure that homosexuals aren’t in the priesthood.” 

            How true.  The trouble is, as the article goes on to say, Rome continues to reassign priests charged with such behavior to other parishes “incognito,” and so the cycle continues.  Ever true to herself, Rome really admits to very little and essentially changes nothing about itself in this area either.

Where This Is All Heading

            In the end, what the laws and the judges that are granting the homosexual lifestyle legal protection and recognition are aiming at is no secret.  It’s the freedom of the pulpit.  An article entitled “Hate-Crime Law Worries Pastors:  Some consider liability insurance to cover pulpit remarks”  (Worldnet Daily) makes this very plain.  

            Pennsylvania (not exactly known as a hotbed for the liberal movement) now has laws against “hate-crimes” on its books.  It just recently approved of amendments to these laws that make the interpretation of what constitutes a “hate-crime” very broad indeed.  As of June, “harassment by communication” now constitutes a “hate-crime.”  No wonder churches and pastors in the Quaker state are beginning to shake a bit.

            A religious liberty group is trying to reassure Pennsylvania pastors who fear they could face prosecution under a new law if they preach against homosexuality.

            The Becket Fund for Religious Liberty  sent a letter to 9,000 houses of worship across the state June 18 after a hate-crimes law was amended to add “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” as motives that trigger heavier penalties for the crimes of “harassment.”

            “It is a measure of our times that religious leaders have lately considered taking out liability insurance to cover remarks made from the pulpit,” said Becket Fund President Kevin J. Hasson.

            Of particular concern to pastors is the amendment’s expansion of the definition of “harassment” to include “harassment by communication” — which means one could be convicted on the basis of spoken words alone.

                “Although legislators expressly disavowed the motive at the time, one might be forgiven the impression that one purpose of this legislation was to generate a fear of prosecution among those who would preach and teach in favor of the traditional prohibition on homosexual behavior — a teaching so common to so many faiths,” Hasson noted.

            However, the Becket Fund’s letter explained to clergy that the new law should not deter them from preaching against homosexual conduct.

            The group says that although the language of the law appears to cover preaching from the pulpit, it is unlikely to be applied that way.

            The Becket Fund also offered to help ministers threatened with such prosecution.  “We will defend, free of charge, anything said from the pulpit, conservative or liberal, wisdom or nonsense, so long as it is a religious message given in good faith,” Hasson declared.

            Will such a law be used against the pulpit, churches, and preachers who speak out against homosexuality?  You had better believe it will.  We do not doubt that Mr. Hasson says what he says in good faith.  He simply cannot bring himself to believe anybody would stoop so low as to use this law to charge preachers (who condemned the homosexual lifestyle as displeasing to God) with being guilty of “hate-crimes.”  Legislators assured him this was not their intention.

            Brother Hasson is mistaken.  He may be sure that the one main purpose of those promoting the Pennsylvania legislation is exactly  “...to generate fear of prosecution among those who would preach and teach in favor of the traditional prohibition on homosexual behavior.”  Supporters of the gay-movement are convinced that the primary generator of hate and prejudice against homosexuality (by calling it sin and deviant behavior) is the Christian church and its pulpits.  They intend to get at such.  This legislation, all pious blandishments aside, simply gives them the legal club with which to do it down the road. 

            And Pennsylvania’s legislation is an indicator of the coming wave.

“When Ball Becomes Baal”

            The above heading is within quotation marks.  I cannot take credit for it.  It is another man’s phrase — a certain Jim Elliff, writing an article for the Baptist Press.  It is timely.  It hits home.

            Sports has become much of Christianity’s new “god.”  Those of us living in West Michigan can verify that.  Last month the Grand Rapids Press ran a three part series on Christians (of the Reformed community in particular) getting more and more involved in Sunday sports in every way — as fans, as participants, as professionals earning their living [desecrating] the Lord’s Day.  The Grand Rapids community has noticed this development.  The Grand Rapids Press thought it high time for the Christian community, its Reformed section in particular, to explain (and justify) itself after so long having condemned those who played on the Lord’s Day.

            The same Christian churches that so recently condemned sports and recreation as a transgression of the Lord’s Holy Day, now have members out there hitting a pitching wedge to the green and trying to leg out a double with the best (worst?) of them.  Professing Christians lead the Sunday hit parade.  What gives?  What changed?  The community wonders.

            The Christian “apologists” did their best to explain.  According to the “apologists,” the new “freedom” to “violate” the Lord’s Day has to do with Christian maturity, that is, Christians finally growing up and learning not to be so legalistic, that is, judging others by one’s own personal preference as to what one may or may not do on the Lord’s Day.  Spiritual maturity means each has the right to determine for oneself what’s the best use of the Lord’s Day for one’s spiritual growth.  Some evidently find arguing with an umpire over another blown call another step in their spiritual development.  

            In short, it appears to me what comes to light is a new insight into the Bible, in particular a passage we evidently have misinterpreted for all too long:  “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I thought as a child:  but when I became a man, (and spiritually mature), I embraced with even greater fervor childish things and refused to put them away even on the Lord’s Day.”  I am sure that is what I Corinthians 13:11 really must have meant to say.

            Evidently the Baptist community where Jim Elliff lives is dealing with the same sports craze our Reformed community is dealing with here in West Michigan.  He writes as one who knows.

            I love to watch my kids play sports.  In fact they need to play — some.

                But it’s not as easy as handing over 70 bucks and saying, “Sign up Johnny and Susie this year.”  Making that decision means that you may be out