Showing posts with label cosmology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cosmology. Show all posts

Thursday, June 26, 2025

Infants and Sacraments

My recent post on the role of the church in Christian education (link) brought to mind a post from several years ago in which I argued that only baptized persons can be "participants" in corporate worship:
...elders administer discipline to their sons, the visible flock over which they shepherd. If infants are never members of the visible church, then they are never disciplined by elders. You might discipline your son, but just because his friend is around when you do doesn't mean his friend is a "participant" in that discipline. To the extent one wants to speak of someone as a participant in worship and yet without discipline, I think such a person would be an illegitimate child rather than a son (Hebrews 12:7-8). (link)
To develop this further, unbaptized persons are onlookers. They are spectators rather than participants in liturgy. They are not, during corporate worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders. Just as elders guard the Lord's Supper, so too does baptism fence off participation in worship. Just as the Lord's Supper communicates covenant blessing or judgment, baptism analogously initiates one into either covenant blessing or curse. Sacraments are neither ex opere operato nor ex opere operantis

In this way do we see how sacramentology is tied to ecclesiology. Liturgical participants draw near to God. Those who do so in an unworthy manner will be judged more severely than those who do not draw near at all. Judgment begins at the house of God, after all. In a sense, it is for their own protection that unbaptized persons are not counted as participants, although it is obviously not good that they should remain as they are. Insofar as the Lord's Supper is proleptic of the marriage supper of the Lamb, everyone will have to reckon with the [Sabbath] day of the Lord sooner or later.

If Baptists agree - as they should - that unbaptized persons are not, in public worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders, that has significant implications. If one denies this by affirming that an elder, in his authoritative capacity as an elder, ought, in public worship, to instruct and discipline the unbaptized, I will only say that such a denial appears either 1) misconstrues liturgical duties of an elder or 2) trades on semantic ambiguity: some teaching, admonishment, etc. is proper or particular to an elder, whereas some teaching or admonishment is informal and not exclusive to that which only an elder can offer. 

Considering the second point first, we can say that in one sense, a Baptist elder can "teach" or "admonish" persons who are not members of the visible church (or even the invisible church). But to the extent that all men are needful of spiritual and physical nourishment, all Christians are capable of "teaching" or "admonishing" others by being living testimonies of the light of the gospel. In living such lives, through the work of the Spirit, some needs of all men may be met. Of course, that one has these needs met does not suggest that all his needs are met.

Case in point, what is being spoken of here is not proper or particular to an elder. I would argue that some of man’s spiritual needs can only be met by being members in the visible church. That is, I am not questioning whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting some needs of persons who are not in the visible church, needs that can also be met by laity in non-liturgical settings. Rather, I question whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting specific needs of unbaptized persons, particularly in the context of worship. 

I think a consistent Baptist would agree that Baptist elders can no more meet certain needs of unbaptized persons than a Presbyterian elder could - until the persons in question are baptized. Recognizing this would avoid the semantic ambiguity alluded to above and confirm a distinction in belief regarding ecclesial scope of authority, as Presbyterians baptize infants whom Baptists would not.

Now, given Baptistic thought that believing parents of infants have no obligation to incorporate said infants into the visible church (quite the contrary, in fact), it looks to be a straightforward inference that these infants are not, during worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by Baptist elders. And if a Baptist elder would say that he does not authoritatively lead, represent, instruct, or discipline unbaptized persons – if he attempts to be, as I see it, relatively consistent with Baptistic thought – then while one can certainly tell infants (or, for that matter, any unbaptized persons) that they need full, spiritual nourishment, while they remain unbaptized, a Baptist elder cannot be said authority or responsible for their spiritual nourishment.

This leads to another consideration: it seems Baptist elders should leave the extent to which unbaptized, infants are exposed to "teaching," "admonition," "discipline," etc. that is proper and particular to elders to parental discretion. In other words, if parents decided not to bring their infants to public worship until or unless they have made a credible profession, on what grounds could a Baptist elder voice a legitimate problem with that?

I find that most Christian parents want their infants (or unbaptized) children to be present for worship of God. However, the question is whether this intuition can be backed such that a Baptist elder could, consistent with Baptistic principles, morally obligate parents to bring their infants to worship by and in the midst of a visible, covenant community to which the infants do not, on Baptist grounds, "belong." Worship is a time particularly intended for the visible church to draw near to God, whereas the infant is implicitly told by Baptists that he does not belong as a worshipping member to the visible church. 

That I've met with resistance from Baptists on this question indicates to me some tension between Baptistic principles and Baptistic practice. Indeed, one wonders about the implications of the London Baptist Confession XXII.6 when it states, "God is to be worshipped everywhere in spirit and in truth; as in private families daily..." If infants can be counted as worshippers in private families, why not in the visible church? Or if they cannot be so counted as worshippers in private families, are they then not members of the private family worshipping? The tensions compound.

Turning to another argument for infant baptism, on Baptistic thought, ecclesiology and sacramentology don't mirror soteriology. Soteriologically, Reformed Baptists and Presbyterians agree that the Father monergistically elected and regenerates men, both of which [logically] precede the faith of these men - even dispositional faith (on how this importantly relates to infants, see here). Yet ecclesiologically and sacramentally, Baptists invert the order such that mature articulation of faith ought to precede [a holy parent or parents choosing the] baptism of [their] infants. This is odd, as baptism signifies regeneration.

I find Baptistic ecclesiology, sacramentology, and argumentation to be more unfortunately tied to pragmatism. Interestingly, some Baptistic arguments against infant baptism intentionally highlight this inverted order of events as experienced by members of the invisible church compared to those experienced by members in the visible church, arguing on pragmatic grounds that since infants can't remember their baptisms, the baptisms are of no use. Perhaps this is why some Baptists have historically gone further in expecting an articulation of a memorable conversion experience before admittance into the visible church.

In any case, this is like arguing that because one doesn't remember being named at the time of his naming, there is no use in the naming. On the contrary, those who belong in the midst of the visible covenant community just are those who have been named in baptism (Matthew 28:19). Both in the case of my personal naming and in my baptismal naming, testimonial evidence is sufficient for my "knowing" my own name (at least in an externalist sense); I don't need video evidence or to have been conscious during the namings for the namings to have had and continue to have significance. Not only are such pragmatic objections weak, they function to show how Presbyterian ecclesiology and sacramentology align with Presbyterian soteriology and anthropology. On further ways in which "-ologies of places and people at least tend to mirror one another," see hereherehere, and here

Finally, there is the objection that anyone who is baptized also should be allowed to partake of the Lord's Supper. In this way, Baptists actually agree with those of the Federal Vision movement like James B. Jordan, the latter of whose arguments for paedocommunion I find more challenging than pragmatic, Baptistic arguments against infant baptism. Jordan's ecclesiology and sacramentology are connected to his understanding of biblical theology. Take the following, which I cannot recall if I found through Jordan himself:
It is well known that the words of the nineteenth Psalm (1-4), mainly on the strength of St. Paul's adaptation of them (Rom. x. 18), have constantly received a spiritual application. The Church is the firmament which shews the handywork of God; in which day transmits to day and night to night in unbroken succession to the end of time, and to all the world, the wondrous story of the glory and grace of God. (Richard Chenevix Trench, Sacred Latin Poetry, pg. 206, link)
Jordan also argues that this symbolism is biblical (link). One enters the firmament-church through baptism just as entrance into the holy place of the tabernacle required passing by the bronze sea and through the veil. Once in the holy place or firmament, there is, before the priest, bread and wine. Bread is food that enables work, whereas wine signifies rest. Bread is protological and wine is eschatological. Thus, an OT tabernacle priest could eat bread but could not drink wine or sit down, for his work was never finished. 

Jordan further argues that bread and wine throughout the Old Testament tends to stand for a contrast between priestly infancy and kingly maturity. The OT was a time during which the people of God could participate in priestly rites but not kingly rest in the throne room; hence, only the high priest entered the holy of holies, he did so only entered once per year, and even then, his work was never finished such that he could enjoy rest. 

For priests to have drank wine at this point in redemptive history would have implied an over-realized eschatology. An over-realized eschatology is an eschatology which counts as having already happened cosmological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as the return of Christ (thus, Jordan argues against hyper-preterism). 

Before Christ, we were collectively as children and required guardians and tutors (Galatians 3-4). Christ, having completed the groundwork for our salvation and eschatological telos, has enabled His priestly people to move forward in redemptive history as we follow the directive of our enthroned King and drink the wine (signifying His blood) that the priests of the OT could not. Each Lord's day, we can enjoy anticipation of consummated, kingly rest in Him, our perfect sacrifice and High Priest. 

Even if we do not agree with Jordan in all the particulars, there does seem to be something to all this. There is a sort of macroecclesiastic, corporate, redemptive-historical progression the church had to experience before members of the church could drink wine. The whole of that which is invisible to us - the elect, the invisible church - are progressively being individually and visibly gathered into one (WCF XXV.I). As this has been and still is being realized in history, there has also been covenantal progression which, in turn, mirrors the sorts of progressions seen, for instance, on the anthropological, physical, or biological level - i.e. children eat bread long before they drink wine. 

In this way, Presbyterians avoid an over-realized ecclesiology, an ecclesiology which counts as having already happened ecclesiological events which we ought to still anticipate. Whereas now, the visible church has been given new privileges in administering sacraments which were not able to be administered under the older administrations of the covenant of grace, there is still more ingathering, maturing, and progressing to do before the members of the visible church are co-extensive with the invisible church, at which point we will enjoy the privilege of feasting with Christ face to face (Matthew 26:29).

Allowing all this, however, I suggest Jordan misses mirrors at the microecclesiastic, individual, soteriological level. We've just spoken of how the visible body collectively progresses and some analogues to it. At the same time, the whole grows only as the individual members who comprise the whole themselves grow. There must be recognized an individual progression in sanctification toward glorification as individuals put to death the deeds of their bodies (Romans 8:13). 

Just as we want to avoid an over-realized eschatology and over-realized ecclesiology, so too we want to avoid an over-realized soteriology, a soteriology which counts as having already happened soteriological events which we ought to still anticipate - such as the complete eradication of the subjective presence of sin. Jordan recognizes this much and argues against perfectionism (link).
...we must hold that indwelling sin remains and cannot be eradicated until the resurrection. Only the penalty of sin has been removed, and no matter what one does, he cannot reach a sinless state of pure fellowship. Whether he perceives it or not, sin is always present. Confession is important, but it is not magical. Certainly God wants man to confess his sin, but not to manipulate or penetrate the secret will of God. To think that confession can accomplish such things implies perfectionism. 

Rather than take this observation and consider analogues which might be found on this level, however, he follows: 

Today, Chafer’s book has tremendous influence in evangelicalism. Campus Crusade for Christ has popularized what Chafer taught in its Holy Spirit booklet, calling it “spiritual breathing.” Many other groups show the effect of this book in their emphasis on introspection. If confession of sin is emphasized apart from the objective worship of the people of God, it is individualized and internalized. Historically, the Christian Church has practiced objective and corporate confession of sin. It helps to prevent that kind of subjective introspection. It should not be overlooked, however, that Chafer’s theology is essentially Anabaptistic and has extended Anabaptist thought. It separates the objective from the subject in the same way Platonic thought did, and is in the final analysis an internalized subjective theology. 
Any retreat into the inner, personal, and subjective world of man takes him away from God’s righteous objective law. Even the scripture memory of the Pharisees and the Antonians obscured the Scripture itself because it was performed in the context of bad theology and practice. A subjective emphasis carries one away from objectivity. Once this happens, man begins to see his sin in terms of himself. As a result his sin disappears because of his own self deception. In other words, he thinks he is perfect, when he may in fact be in deep sin. Putting it another way, break the mirror and the shame disappears. The knowledge of sin comes via the law. All of the perfectionistic movements of history have rejected both a knowledge of the law and the knowledge of sin.
This is strange. Jordan seems to understand that progression is not merely a corporate phenomenon but a subjective, individual one as well, yet he seems to refuse to admit that dimension has a place in one's doctrine of worship. 

For example, Jordan understands that an over-realized physiology is a physiology which counts as having already happened physiological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as unrealistic physical expectations of those whose bodies have not yet sufficiently developed. As such, Jordan argues that youths should not play football:
...we have to agree with the opinion of physicians that football is unhealthy for young men. The Bible tells us, as does medical science, that our physical frames are not fully set and mature until we are around thirty years old. Up until that time, severe physical stress can do considerable damage to our young, developing bones and cartilege. Thus, God said that the Levites had to be between thirty and fifty years old in order to carry the heavy golden furniture of the Tabernacle (Numbers 4; this is also symbolic, since a man should be at least thirty years old before taking church office upon his shoulders.) Physicians complain that football is too risky for high school and college age youth. Many Christian schools have taken this advice seriously, and have turned to other, less dangerous sports. (link).
Likewise, can we not acknowledge subjective, relevant distinctions in worshippers? In fact, mustn't we acknowledge such distinctions in, say, considering who is qualified to function as an elder? I think Jordan conflates macroecclesial and microecclesial levels, leading him to an over-realized sacramentology, a sacramentology which counts as having already happened sacramental events which some ought to still anticipate - such as setting unrealistic spiritual expectations on ones who have not yet sufficiently developed to examine himself and discern the body (1 Corinthians 11:28-29). Jordan's understanding of this passage flattens it to such an extent that the subjectively diverse experiences mentioned in verse 30 become unintelligible.

When Jordan argues for paedocommunion, I think he misses that a progressive dimension exists in sacramentology just as in most other -ologies. He treats as what is now available to the visible covenant community - due to redemptive-historical progression - as being available to each member of the said community. In short, a fallacy of division.

Much more could be said regarding arguments against paedocommunion (or, for that matter, arguments for infant baptism). Here, I've only tried to organize some thoughts I haven't seen discussed much elsewhere. For those interested, I recommend this book and this series, the first video of which provides further biblical-theological reasons against paedocommunion.

Friday, June 11, 2021

Of What Advantage is Baptism [for Infants]?

Much in every way. Firstly, I think a good way to frame the question is in terms of advantages and privileges, for baptism does not always communicate or indicate grace. No one ought to question that the world aside from Noah's family, Pharaoh's army, or unbelievers at the parousia were or will be fearfully judged, for example. Baptism can point to this eschatological reality as well as to blessed salvation. Likewise, one baptized into the visible body of the covenant community is privileged to be a member of it - properly able to be instructed and disciplined by elders-fathers, as I will return to below - though not without warning should they rebel and fall away (Hebrews 6:4-8, 10:26-31).

Anthropologically, soteriologically, and ecclesiologically, we are (or can be) newly born into households. Only those born into these houses are, properly speaking, discipled and disciplined by the fathers of said houses. Only sons and daughters consistently receive fatherly instruction, training, and correction. The potential blessings should be obvious. But this too means judgment must begin at the house of God - since, a fortiori, it is obvious what judgment befalls those who are not members of the house (1 Peter 4:17-18). Now, we know sons and daughters can rebel against fatherly authority. But such cases, as heartbreaking as they are, does not mean there is no reason for sons and daughters to have been in a position to receive instruction and discipline in the first place. At the very least, it must cause sober reflection upon our own relative births and positions into the various, divinely appointed households. But we must remember that all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose, not all without exception.

Or, to put the point another way. In addition to the anthropological, ecclesiological, and soteriological households, we can consider the cosmological household of God of which we are all a part, believer and unbeliever alike. Nature has a way of instructing and disciplining men (Romans 1:18-32), because we are all God's offspring (Acts 17:29), His image, in His macrocosmic house of creation (Genesis 1). This too comes with its own advantages and privileges, for life is good.

However, it might be a bit difficult to understand, from a bird-eye view of the reprobate, how he has been divinely favored by the rain and sunshine God sends and makes (Matthew 5:45). That is, should we view such as grace? Gordon Clark thought we could:
One theologian argues that the gospel is both a savor of life unto life and also a savor of death unto death. To the reprobate the preaching of the gospel is no favor because as it increases their knowledge, it increases their responsibility and condemnation. Better if they had never heard the gospel. One can reply, nonetheless, that in some cases the preaching of the gospel may restrain an evil man from some of his evil ways. Since therefore sins are not all equal, and since some are punished with many stripes, but others with few, the preaching of the gospel results in the lessening of the punishment. Thus preaching would be a small favor, a modicum of grace. (link)
I am less sure. We could regard it as an advantage or privilege for anyone who already exists and sins to not be immediately cut off from his sinful life, and to that extent what Clark says above can hold true. It is, likewise, certainly a privilege to have once been enlightened, tasted the heavenly gift, have shared in the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come. Perhaps this restrains one from committing as much evil as he would otherwise have done. Yet it seems to me that the privileges of these new births which even reprobates can experience must be balanced against the strong language of, for example, Mark 14:21 - spoken of one who was a disciple of Christ (how much more advantage or privilege towards a sinner can one conceived?) - and that baptism can be unto fearful judgment. To whom much is given, much is expected (Luke 12:47-48). If one tramples underfoot the advantages and privileges of God, it would be better for that man if he had not been born.

Nevertheless, this bird's eye view is not available to us. We can only speak in regards to what we know, and what we know is that one is advantaged or privileged to hear the gospel, for one can only please God and be at peace with Him through justification by faith, and faith can only come by hearing the gospel. We cannot know, in this lifetime, who will hear and reject the gospel, and it is far beyond our purview to presume upon who will or won't heed its call. Much less are we able to determine whether, even if it is rejected, it may yet be beneficial to the extent that those who hear and reject it sin less and are punished less severely as a result. Similarly, we may consider the case of baptism to be a privilege and advantage, if not necessarily a means of grace, even in the case that it leads to negative judgment.

Suppose instead that our infants are only welcome to church meetings to the extent that other unbelievers are. In the first place, we should probably think harder than we do before inviting open unbelievers to what is supposed to be a family communion with and worship of God rather than an evangelistic outreach. What is the goal? Unbelievers should normally find our worship strange and alien because in it, we draw near to God (precisely where they usually don't want to be).

But is this normally how our infants grow to view our assembling to worship? They may, of course, have questions of the worship service (Exodus 12:24-27), but do they normally shrink back as we draw near to God and He to His church? Are not our children participants in corporate worship? If not, I do not see how church can even be considered a foster home to unbaptized children. Rather, it looks as though these children get (have?) to visit a family not their own once a week without participating in the corporate life of it then and there, much less throughout the rest of the week.

On the other hand, if they are participants, fathers discipline sons. Likewise, elders administer discipline to their sons, the visible flock over which they shepherd. If infants are never members of the visible church, then they are never disciplined by elders. You might discipline your son, but just because his friend is around when you do doesn't mean his friend is a "participant" in that discipline. To the extent one wants to speak of someone as a participant in worship and yet without discipline, I think such a person would be an illegitimate child rather than a son (Hebrews 12:7-8).

The same could be said regarding instruction. Fathers are to instruct their children (Ephesians 6:4). The elder instructs his sons, the visible flock, in worship. But if infants are never members of the visible church, then they are never instructed by elders. You might instruct your son, but just because his friend is around when you do doesn't mean his friend is a "participant" in that instruction.

Whether or not your son rebels against your discipline and instruction is a separate question. But it is without question he is a legitimate son of yours because of how you behave towards him. Likewise in regards to God towards His elect sons and the elders towards their sons-flocks.

One final question that bears pastoral reflection: if infants are not treated as sons, how will they come to think about the church? Frankly, as a child, I would have felt awkward and out of place in the presence of my friend being instructed or disciplined by his father. I would be viewing an internal family matter as an outsider. To say in the first place that infants cannot be participants in worship - that they are presumed to be outsiders - then, would naturally seem to lead them to doubt, uncertainty, or anguish. Being cognizant of the manner in which we, as the visible church, treat our children from birth as well as how they grow to perceive themselves in virtue of our treatment is easier said than done, especially if some of us actually view them as looking in from the outside of God's visible household.

Thursday, May 13, 2021

Heads and Bodies

I have questioned Christians who would want to cut themselves off from fellowship with other believers (link). But what are some of the sources of sleepiness? What, for example, has induced the seeming coma in which American Christianity finds itself? I keep going back to the problem that our culture is dictating our worship rather than vice versa. Before I speak to this, I recently came across the following and think it sets an historical context:

Europe's leading existential thinkers "Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and Albert Camus" all felt that Americans were too self-confident and shallow to accept their philosophy of responsibility, choice, and the absurd. "There is no pessimism in America regarding human nature and social organization," Sartre remarked in 1950, while Beauvoir wrote that Americans had no "feeling for sin and for remorse" and Camus derided American materialism and optimism. Existentialism, however, enjoyed rapid, widespread, and enduring popularity among Americans. (link)

In many respects, these philosophers were right. Existential philosophy fits the individualism of America. Whether or not it was true, at the time they wrote, that American pride was incompatible with their philosophy of self, it is now clear Americans know a bit better that original sin is a reality... despite persisting, empty protestations to the contrary (link). One can't be individualistic for too long before suspecting sinful authorities, and doubt regarding authority as such soon follows.

Enter modern American pessimism. No one besides the solitary individual is trustworthy: government, "organized" religion, parents, husbands... this is the result of an "I know [myself] best!" mentality [It just occurred to me that it was around the time I started reading Kierkegaard, the "father" of Existentialism, that I stopped going to church for many years.] Recognition that we deceive ourselves much better than any of these authorities ever could - or the point that some authorities might even manipulate us by playing into our self-deceit and self-conceit - is lost on us. Why? Because one charge against America by the above philosophers that still rings true is that we are still, by and large, "self-confident and shallow." We need external direction and sustenance from infancy, whether physical or spiritual, yet few among us are humble enough to think of ourselves as in spiritual infancy. [I know that is why I originally stopped going to church.]

Christians (and a "Christian nation") ought to know better.

Now, let's talk about sinful authorities who don't discipline or firmly stand on truth - i.e. that don't love those over whom they have been given authority. Empty political promisers, come-as-you-are churches that do not ask for or expect transformation, hands-off parenting, uncaring husbands... is it a wonder the subjects in the domains of these authorities disrespect them? 

No, but it is wrong and sad that those people have thrown out the baby with the bathwater in two respects: 1) the divinely appointed hierarchical design isn't at fault but rather those individual authorities who are failing to properly execute their office and/or those subjects who are failing to properly defer to their authorities; 2) those authorities who are properly executing their office are lumped in with those who are not, breeding widespread disdain of authority structures. 

Authorities are to heads as subjects are to bodies. The duality in responsibilities between heads and bodies is seen in Ephesians 5. The church is to subject itself to Christ as body to head. Wives are likewise to subject themselves to their husbands. We might as well say that citizens ought to subject themselves to governing authorities (Romans 13), children are to subject themselves to parents (Ephesians 6), flocks to elder-shepherds (1 Peter 5), servants to masters (1 Peter 2), etc. These are matters of obedience and respect to the extent God has given each subordinate head authority over each body.

The responsibility of the head is one of love. Christ loved the church, dying for her. Husbands, governing authorities, parents, and elders: love likewise. That doesn't often require us to die - except to sin. For a bodiless head is no better than a headless body. One directs the other, but each [should] work in coordination in their sphere of influence.

While all of that is ideal, what human authority is perfect? None. That's why Christ stands at and as the Head of all of these authorities (Colossians 2:10), setting limits upon each. But no human subject is perfect either, and sinful persons being individual rules unto themselves is certainly not better than striving towards a reality in which persons being conformed to Christ's image are put in positions of authority. That should be the goal. How do we get there?

America is failing to learn the lesson that if things are to ever change in our divorce-ridden society (national, racial, sexual, marital, economic, spiritual), the expectation and design of God is that we will have to gain wisdom to become better authorities. Bodies gain wisdom in appropriately obeying and subjecting themselves to their authorities. That's how they are able to become wise heads who can gain further wisdom in lovingly instructing and disciplining their own bodies. This is no less true physiologically than in the analogous, Scriptural head-body parallels, a point I will return to below. 

In other words, how is wisdom generally to be gained? In the application of God's word-Word in our lives, whether as heads or bodies. Where is God's word-Word principally received? In the worship of the church: word and sacrament, prayer and confession, singing and discipline. In this worship, we Christians, the true words of God (Revelation 19:7), are fed by the word-Word. From this worship, like Christ's miraculous breaking of the bread (Matthew 15:36) and of His own body on the cross, we are broken as a body and commissioned to feed the world with the word-Word of the gospel. In this way, the various other earthly heads (worldly powers, husbands, parents, masters, etc.) will be able to apply divine wisdom to earthly matters within their divinely appointed jurisdiction. 

This explain why judgment begins with the household of God (1 Peter 4:17). When the worship of a society is in disarray, its culture will be in disarray. Thus, how ecclesiastical authorities love (or not) their flocks will be mirrored in how the various other earthly heads love (or not) their subjects. In turn, that will impact who is likely to become an ecclesiastical authority (1 Timothy 3) in time: will it be one who learned from his elders how to apply wisdom to be a good husband and father - and as such is qualified to become an elder - or not? 

I was listening to a recent commentary on Exodus in which the point was made that Moses first acquired ecclesiastical wisdom in dealing with his Hebrew brothers before he engaged worldly powers like Pharaoh or the Amalekites. This is a pattern we see repeat. Christ grew in wisdom in dealing with the various Jewish scribes of His day before engaging with worldly powers like Pilate and Herod. Paul confounded the Jews before engaging with worldly powers like Felix, Festus, and Agrippa. If this is a pattern, what can we infer from it? 

We can't expect culture to change without a change in worship. We can't expect a change in worship without proper direction from ecclesiastical authorities in how we ought to worship. We can't expect general respect for ecclesiastical authorities without their being willing to discipline their flocks. We can't expect ecclesiastical authorities to be willing to discipline their flocks without their understanding that Christ is the head to whose word they must subject themselves and obey.

Let's examine one link in this chain: ecclesiastical discipline in American Christianity has virtually disappeared. If we eat without disciplining our bodies through exercise, we naturally become fat and lazy (unsurprisingly, an American stereotype). This returns us to the question of how Christians become sleepy. Forget running with endurance for a moment (Hebrews 12), it looks like American Christianity needs to begin with some light stretching. Our legs are stiff and asleep. Our members of Christ's body need to be awakened before they can even think about running.

Do parents expect their child to obey if they don't discipline him when he is disobedient? Does a magistrate expect a criminal to repent if they don't punish him? Elders, can you expect your members to walk in the light if you don't know their names, let alone keep them accountable? When a head become more concerned with the appetites of the body than the heavenly wisdom that come from the Arch-Head, we know and lament the physical ramifications. If we can barely control our own bodies, how much less (yet worse) surprising is it when we see parallel head-body disfunctions: a parent who seeks to spoil a tamper-tantruming child, a power-driven magistrate concerned more with his constituents (or citizens he wishes joined his constituency) than the law, or elders who would compromise on the word of truth to appease their congregations (or flocks they wished joined the congregation)? Which of these is most likely to be the cause of the others?

I would argue that it's the last case, and if and only if we start to see top-down ecclesiastical reform can we expect cultural reform. There is no voting shortcut, political grassroots shortcut, economic shortcut, etc. Worship is key, and worship is organized by elders. These elders were to have gained wisdom while they were members of churches, gained further wisdom from becoming husbands and fathers, and apply those learning experiences to gain further wisdom from governing over Christ's body. Then they will have sufficient wisdom to engage worldly powers and change culture. 

The Lord will take care of judging other heads if they do not heed the faithful church (Pharaohs), just as He takes care of judging disobedient members of ecclesiastical bodies (e.g. Achan, Ananias, and Sapphira). Our cultural bondage is always deserved (cf. Joshua 24:14), but should faithful ecclesiastical leaders arise (even ones who, like Moses was, are somewhat apprehensive; Exodus 3-4), our gracious God will grant exodus to the bodies of these heads.

I've taken a recent interest the divinely designed coordination of soteriology, eschatology, cosmology, Christology, anthropology, etc (e.g. cities and conception). The head-body distinction would be another example of the how each of these facets of reality mirror and shed light on one another, as I've tried to touch on above. 

To apply this metaphor more explicitly, we can view the head-body distinction through the cosmological prism, for example: our earthly heads are compared to heavenly bodies (Genesis 1:16-18, 37:12, Matthew 24:29, 1 Corinthians 15:40-41). Cosmologically, the glory of these physical heavenly bodies will pass away, as the glory of God will enlighten all (2 Peter 3:12, Revelation 21:23). There isn't anything bad about heavenly bodies, for God created all things good. Nevertheless, creation is brought from one degree of glory to another, as all new creations are (2 Corinthians 3:18). 

Is it shocking, then, when Jesus says marriage will pass away (Luke 20:35)? It shouldn't be, because the true Husband, Christ, will have been united with His true bride, the church (Revelation 21:2). Each will be glorious, and so we can see that the present, divinely appointed heads and bodies are each glorious to the extent that they image this eschatological relationship. Similarly, the true King-Father-Elder will have returned, so there will be no more need of political, parental, or ecclesiastical imitations, present hierarchical firmament lights such as ourselves whose roles as heads will be set aside for the greater glory of being joined as members of the body of our true Head. 1 Corinthians 15:28 points to a time when all earthly headships will pass to Him as all will be subjected to Him, He in turn to His Father-Head. 

Tuesday, April 13, 2021

Barrenness, Conception, Death-Resurrection, and Typology

I first encountered the idea of birth from barrenness as a type of resurrection from death in the thought of Warren Gage as my friends and I reviewed a book of his last year (link). This has been on my mind as our church has been recently blessed with a couple who have adopted a child, two child baptisms, another birth, and another pregnancy. All of this was a motivating factor as to why I wanted to provide a devotional on the birth of Samuel before the men in our church last month.

The above considerations gave me recent reason to revisit Gage's reasoning: Is it birth that is a kind of resurrection from death-barrenness, or is it conception? Or are both types of resurrection?

Prior to conception, a womb is a barren place, unfruitful and devoid of life (Proverbs 30:16, cf. 2 Kings 2:21). Conception normally occurs through natural means but, as with anything else, is ultimately caused by divine ordination. Specifically, God closes and opens wombs throughout Scripture (Genesis 20:18, 29:31, 30:22, 1 Samuel 1:5-6). Sex does not create life ipso facto or ex nihilo; in the case of conception nowadays, neither does God, but the point is that His power ultimately determines when and whether conception can happen (Ruth 4:13).  God Himself purposes to multiply the conception of the woman right after the Fall and protoevangelium (Genesis 3:15-16). Since a conceived child is treated in Scripture as a human life (Exodus 21:23, Job 3:16, Luke 1), this looked to me like conception could be resurrection in contrast to barrenness-death. 

Once I considered that possibility, I continued to think that once life has been created in the womb - once resurrection has occurred by divine power - the conceived child grows within the womb, being formed by God (Psalm 139:13ff., Jeremiah 1:5). That is, following death and resurrection, by the grace of God, comes progress and maturation. Granted that this is a physical conception and development in view, in a typological manner, this now appears to be a death-resurrection-sanctification pattern.

Because life starts and develops within the womb, an infant coming out of the womb is, in a way, like a second birth and, hence, a second resurrection. This makes birth to be like glorification. As we can see in the city pattern - which will make sense since our newborn selves are ready-made analogies to the tabernacle, [new] creation, etc. - there is an exodus from one life to another (Psalm 71:6, Isaiah 46:3-4) in which God delivers us. Our exodus and deliverance from an old world into a new creation is obvious in a physical sense as we exit the womb but also mirrors the spiritual dimension in which our glorification is yet another [kind of] birth (Romans 8:18-25, cf. Psalm 22:9-10, 1 Peter 1:3). Thus, from barrenness to birth, the child experiences a protological life cycle: death-resurrection-maturation-glorification. 

Pattern         Physical/Anthropological      Spiritual/Soteriological

death            - >     barrenness     ->            sin and guilt, death
resurrection  ->     conception     ->    regeneration, first resurrection
maturation   ->        growth         ->        progressive sanctification
glorification ->         birth           ->  glorification, second resurrection

There is more that can be said. As mentioned in my city pattern post:
I find that an implication of this excursus is that Christology, anthopology, ecclesiology, sociology, cosmology, and other -ologies of places and people at least tend to mirror one another from first things to last things, from the protological to eschatological. 

Above, anthropology and soteriology have been compared explicitly. Scriptural allusions to Christology and cosmology have also been made. Just like the themes in the city pattern, these could and should be explored more fully. But while it is on my mind, I wanted to extend how I see the barrenness-conception-womb-birth pattern plays out ecclesiastically.

I think Moses' question is rhetorical when he asks whether he conceived and begat all the Israelites for whom he was responsible; rather, the Lord conceived and begat His people, so Moses cries out for help from the Lord and receives it (Numbers 11:12ff.). [May our church leaders do the same!] As Paul says in an illustration that is pregnant with [pre]natal symbolism, especially in its context of city-building, Paul remarks that neither the planter nor waterer give increase, but only God, for only God has life in Himself  (1 Corinthians 3:6-7, cf. vss. 9-17 and 22, in which death, life, and the new world into which we will be born are all ours). In Christological-ecclesiastical union, the Son of God and the church were protected during as well as after pregnancy (Revelation 12). In short, we see the conception, growth, and birth of God's people over time. 

These narratives don't just describe what does and will continue to happen to the invisible church - the body of true believers whose source of life is in the Head of the members - but also the visible church. While it may be easy to view our circumstances myopically, within our own time and place, over time, God's kingdom has steadily visibly expanded across the globe. The visible church, being comprised of both true and false members, is in an ongoing process of maturation driven by true members (ecclesiology) just as a newly conceived infant in the womb steadily grows and acclimates to its surroundings before being ready to face a new world (anthropology). The same is true of individual believers (soteriology). The earthly realm itself is a womb to which the visible church is acclimating and growing within until we are a developed people. The God who resurrected us by exodus-deliverance from the death-curse of the ground-womb is forming us even now within this womb, readying us for a second resurrection-birth (Genesis 3, Romans 8).

At the same time, we cannot miss that sin has deeply twisted conception itself, a resurrection-life from death-barrenness, into a death-curse (Psalm 51:5, James 1:15), an unhappy and ironic result of our participation in the original sin of Adam (about which my friends and I will soon discuss on this this fascinating book I chose for this month's podcast). Original sin has caused a loss of original righteousness with which Adam was concreated, and therefore his progeny (us) require spiritual rebirth, which only happens as the Spirit unites us to the twice-baptized Christ. The physical twofold pattern of life-deliverances in conception and birth is matched by our twofold resurrection experiences of regeneration and glorification.

Now, I mentioned in the city post that the ebbs and flows in the killing of sin occurs over time, not all at once, both individually and corporately. This is true for the invisible body of believers. How much more true is it in the case of the visible church in which we can find deceitful leaders, unrepentant or false professors, or even corporate bodies whom our judge-elders must ex-communicate or disassociate with, cutting off rotting members to prune the olive tree? Such discipline is both for their judgment (an exodus-curse a la Genesis 3:24) and benefit (that they might see the gravity of their sin and repent). It is also a deliverance to the church whose worship, testimony, and prayerfulness are reborn (e.g. Numbers 21:4-9, 1 Corinthians 5).

Being engrafted into the [visible] church normally leads to life-abidance as one is surrounded by life. In fact, normally one cannot find life except in the visible church. However - and while believers in whom Christ is rooted will not fall away - because of the reality of sin and apostasy, death is able to spread even to the places where God forms His people. Death spreads to all men because all sinned (Romans 5:12), and therefore even infants sometimes tragically die in the secret place of the womb. Instead of ensured maturation, sin has made death where life once was a possibility with which we must deal - in the womb of a mother, the womb of the world, and even the womb of the visible church. Only being found in the Triune family are we ultimately secured unto eternal life. 

Hence, we sometimes see signs of life from those to whom the gospel has been proclaimed before they, like seed in rocky soil, wither against the heat of the Son. These apostates are sad cases - like infants who are stillborn, miscarried, or murdered in the womb - as are those who cause such a one to die (Psalm 58:8, Hosea 9). When we consider the judgment upon those who cause little ones to stumble in sin (Matthew 18:6), we must correspondingly consider those who abort or murder their own children or others and be afraid for them. This correspondence is all the more reason the visible church must be vigilant in opposing false teachings.

Friday, April 2, 2021

Mirror Images: The City as a Biblical Paradigm of Eschatological Escalation

Before our most recent podcast on localism, my friends and I were discussing the theology of location as a lacuna within Reformed theology that could use supplementation or systematic treatment. While writing about that subject seems better suited to some of my friends, it prompted one of them to ask me to put down what was, in nascent form at the time, a few thoughts in which I tried to outline an eschatological escalation of and towards “city.”

To give context to where this thinking stemmed from, as I was learning about localism, which was mentioned in a different book we had recently reviewed, I wanted to make sure that one of my friends who is an advocate for localism and is moving to a more rural area wasn’t becoming a “romantic agrarian.” After all, while the people of God began by being planted in a garden, the people of God end in and as a city (Revelation 21-22). Of course, that begs a whole host of questions such as what a city looks like, but as my friend was level-headed in his answer to my concern, my thoughts trended towards a different direction: what do we read about cities in Scripture?

In Genesis, the first cities explicitly mentioned are cities of men: Cain's city, the tower of Babel, Sodom and Gomorrah, and Zoar where Lot slept with his daughters. This is not a particularly great start in our understanding of how city life can be good!

The next cities mentioned, however, are patriarchal and convert nations: Ephron (in which peoples blessed Abraham and gifted him with land for a burial site), Nahor (in which kin blessed Abraham and Isaac with the gift of Rebekah), Beersheba (the first city founded by a patriarch – in particular, the son of promise, Isaac – in which Isaac covenanted with Abimelech, had a peace meal with people who had previously persecuted him, and drew water), and Bethel (Jacob's mediatorial ladder). We begin to see major typological and redemptive themes associated with cities.

The next mention of cities returns to those of men: Shechem (in which the Dinah is defiled by a prince and Jacob’s sons literally apply circumcision-death to people with whom they had covenanted; surrounding cities become terrified as Jacob and his sons experience an exodus from Shechem to the house of God in Bethel, cf. Genesis 34:30 and Exodus 5:21) and 3 Edomite cities I don't know much about (Dinhalah, Avith, Pau).

Finally, Pharaoh and his cities (plural) of Egypt convert under the ascension of Joseph, and Israel is blessed and reciprocally blesses Pharaoh.

Genesis events – the patriarchal ones in particular – were later meant to be a template for the Israelites (especially their leaders) to know how to act. Learn from history. Will you be a spiritual city of refuge for the nations or spiritual Babel, Sodom, and Egypt? We now know how that eventually turned out. The same message now applies to visible churches.

With this backdrop in mind, in James B. Jordan's Crisis, Opportunity, and the Christian Future, he writes a chapter about “The Three Fundamental Cultures” that followed the giving of the Decalogue, listed here and described with examples in my own words:

The Age of Tribes – tribal, priestly, period of the judges

The Age of Nations (or Cities) – national, kingly, period of the kings

The Cosmopolitan Age – imperial, prophetic, period of the emperors

Reflection on this chapter, scattered statements he has made elsewhere, and study on my own led me to see an eschatological escalation of the city theme throughout Scripture. The following is an outline of what I have in mind:

In the patriarchal era after which Israel's history was patterned, we first see God scatter the nations at Babel, one of the first cities mentioned in the Bible, because He would not allow a centralization of false worship. Out of this event came the temporary distinction between a nation of priests (Hebrews/Israelites/Jews) and those who were not, an event which catalyzes the cultural periods Jordan alludes to above. The resulting multitude of nations was good, not bad (see this podcast discussion), and these local-cultural distinctions will remain (Revelation 7:9), but conflated with the Babel-event is a judgment which led to exodus.

[...and parenthetically, perhaps this always happens: the first, divine judgments follow divine separations (exoduses?), all of which eschatologically resolve in our experiencing exoduses from darkness and waters of judgment. When does the first exodus occur? Not in the book of Exodus! That isn’t even the first (or second!) exodus from Egypt in particular that we read in Scripture. I think it possible that one can find exoduses as early as Genesis 1, and earlier than Jordan himself proposes: the day/night distinction will resolve on the Day of the Lord, the firmament distinction will resolve in a baptism by fire – just as there was a Noahic baptism by water – as heaven descends upon earth, and the water/land distinction will become land only, as there will be no more sea; Revelation 21:1, 25). Creation itself might be an exodus – it is some kind of ontological change from what could have been, at least. When we become new creations, we have certainly experienced an exodus. This is a bit speculative and tangential on my part, but interesting to consider. One danger to watch out for would be pantheism, as the Creator-creature distinction will always remain. If creation was an exodus in that Creator and creature are separated, it is the only one that doesn't resolve.]

Regardless, there are plenty of exoduses in Genesis – particularly in the patriarchal narratives, which directly follow the Babel narrative – and Israel's history recapitulates these patriarchal events, from which they do not learn many lessons. Besides the example of Jacob in Shechem that I mentioned above: Abraham and Isaac are faithful throughout their exoduses from Egypt, whereas Israel was falsely worshipping (Joshua 24:14) and required salvation from God’s plagues. They are more like Lot’s wife during and after their exodus from Sodom and Gomorrah – barely out of Egypt before crying out against Moses (and, thus, God) that they wish they had never left – than they are like Hagar and Isaac, who wandered in a wilderness and cry out to God for salvation. Abraham and Isaac wandered before the latter, the son of promise, established the first patriarchal city, Beersheba, with its waters of healing and feast of peace between covenanted peoples. Israel wanders like the patriarchs did before finally establishing cities in the promised land to which Gentiles come and convert (prophetically, cf. Exodus 15-18)... before they fall again and again, resulting in the desolation of the tabernacle, 1st temple, and 2nd temple. Etc.

Israel is scattered from Egypt to be priests to the nations, because Egypt became a new Babel. Like Babel, the scattering was again due to the false worship in the city (by both nation-peoples), for which the city was to be judged. Judgment again led to exodus. Furthermore, I think Egypt is the first biblical instance in which we explicitly see a land that has cities (plural) over which one person, pharaoh, ruled. This is kingly, if not imperial (as I might argue), and an escalation in the Babel pattern. History typologically spirals, not exactly repeats. The history in Genesis foreshadows the rest of biblical history, with Israel’s history being next, so the escalating pattern of city judgment, exodus-scattering, and new creation should and does appear in Israel's history. 

There are quite a few examples in Israel's history that are worth mentioning in a more exploratory post on this subject, but the eventual scenario of multiple cities over which a Davidic king rules is perhaps on the same scale as Egypt in one sense, perhaps on a larger scale in another sense (given more distinctive local communities and a wider sphere of influence), and perhaps less in another sense (pharaoh ruled over both priestly and non-priestly peoples). I could include the tabernacle-temple escalation as a microcosmic escalation of what we see playing out geographically. As before, though, syncretism leads to false worship (in both tabernacle and temple, by both priests and kings), Israel becomes a new Babel, judgment led to exodus, and the Israelites are exiled in one sense – and yet, although scattered, God promises to be with them as they continue their priestly ministry among the nations of the Babylonian empire.

During the prophetic period of Daniel et al., the Jews eventually return to rebuild the temple at the behest of emperor Cyrus, a king who disarms other kings (Isaiah 45:1, Ezra 6). Israel’s history reaches an escalated climax in proportion to the climax of the patriarchal narratives in Genesis. Their sphere of influence is pervasive in the biblical oikouménÄ“ until they reject the true King of the cosmos, Yahweh, in Acts. Jesus came as the Cosmic Man, recapitulating the events of the patriarchs and Israel as the true Israel and Son of God, antitype of these types. He passed the wilderness wanderings (it seems to me He wanders throughout most of the gospels), eventually establishing Himself as the City of Refuge, the resurrected third and true Temple-City, Head of the new body-politic of believers in which Jews and Gentiles were finally one house. Jerusalem became Babel when they rejected this City for their own, judgment led to exodus, and believers in Christ were scattered among the nations, a true priestly people and truly adopted sons of the Spirit. Now on an escalated, world-wide scale, this will lead to peoples from all nations converting.

The escalating pattern of scattering should and does appear in church history, since we are united with Him. The cherubim firmament-guarders of the sanctuaries (Eden, Sinai, tabernacle, temple, heaven) have been succeeded by the church, since while we were in infancy under angelic tutors, we are now united with Christ who has been exalted above them. The flaming sword and duty of the cherubim have been passed to the church. The church appeals to God’s word-Word to mediate the new covenant, guarding His sanctuary from within (excommunication) as well as at the gates (sacrament), a priestly firmament in which people are cut off or cut in, so to speak.

So when, like the leaders of Israel, the visible church compromises its power to bind and loose, the visible manifestation of God’s kingdom on earth ebbs until it flows; the difference between Israel and the church, I think, is that in our case, the power of Christ will flow through the Spirit to we who are truly united with Him. It isn’t a matter of if (cf. discussion of Daniel 2 below). I recall that Jordan somewhere mentions the tabernacle is emblematic of a man, with its innermost regions (most holy place), stomach (holy place), and feet (pillars) – or something like that. Just as individually, we experience our own exodus from sin and ebbs and flows as we escalate in sanctification towards being glorified temple-bodies of the Holy Spirit, corporately, we see the same in the church. 

[As an aside, this means that I disagree with Jordan’s view of the relation between good works and final justification, his view of the conditional perseverance of those united to Christ, etc. Like Jordan, I do believe ecclesiology, anthropology, and soteriology are tied together (a point to which I will return below). But not all Israel is of Israel, and not all the church is of the Church. I think that the visible-invisible church distinction is sufficient to explain visible ebbs in the manifestation of God’s kingdom. It just takes time for Christ's true body to fully mature in worship and practice, cutting off infectious sources (false members), just as it takes a man time to mature in worship and practice, cutting off sin.]

The next time a kingdom is shaken and a death-resurrection and exodus scattering event occurs, it will be the last, and on a cosmic scale, a crescendo in the escalation in geographic manifestation of God’s king-domain on earth as in heaven – heaven on earth. God’s enemies rather than His people will be finally scattered; in fact, His people will assemble together. Judgment will lead to death, resurrection, and exodus one last time, with true worship being established forever in the resolving of creation judgments alluded to earlier.

Returning to Jordan's "Three Fundamental Cultures": remembering that this pattern was meant to depict a time after the giving of the Law (Israelite history), and given that Israelite history is particularly patterned after patriarchal history, the principle of city judgment, exodus-scattering, and new creation, may not capture but does also apply, for example, to Cain's prediluvian city. Cities which have forsaken God will always be judged, and the remnant of God's people (if such there be) will experience exodus from the city. In Noah's time, the whole earth became the city of man, and judgment led to exodus, this time with Noah being replanted, as it were, as a new Adam in a garden-city, commanded to be fruitful and multiply. This leads me to consider the ark of Noah as a city of refuge, with the ark's door as the gate of entrance. From reading I've done in the past, I am convinced it was a protological temple and microcosm of the universe. Antitypically, Christ is our Temple-City now, our Ark-Gate-Door, the Cosmic Man in whom we will survive the coming baptism by fire and be planted in the eschatological garden-city of Revelation 21-22. There is more to Peter's description of the Noahic flood as the end of an epoch that will be matched by the baptism by fire to come than meets the eye (2 Peter 3).

Now, one of my friends on the podcast pointed out that Eden was to become the glorified city of Revelation 21-22 (compare the tree and river imagery in both settings, for example). Thus, the garden is a prototypical city. I recalled that was to happen by Adam's adornment of it with jewels from Havilah - the eschatological end on Adam wasn't somewhere "out there," although he was called to engage in the public domain to glorify the sanctuary. Eden is the first city. When Adam sinned, judgment led to exodus, and humanity was scattered across the face of the earth, awaiting the new creation through the second Adam, whose work tore the temple veil and enabled return access to the sanctuary-city that true churches now enjoy fellowship with in worship.

What is true macrocosmically is true microcosmically: we are called trees in Scripture. Upon conversion, we become temple-houses of the Holy Spirit, the beginning of a sanctifying process of killing sin that ends in city-glorification: adorned, bejeweled, and given robes of glory in being united with Christ. Our eschatological end isn't some "out-of-body" spirit a la gnosticism, although our sanctification of our individual (and corporate) sanctuary-bodies is likewise not [only] found by inward reflection or contemplation but by working out our salvation with fear and trembling in the real world. And as we engage in the real world, different people bring back different jewels with which to adorn the temple: localism and distinctiveness of nation-peoples is preserved even as we are all united in the sanctuary. As the land of Eden was to be adorned – as was the later tabernacle and temple – with gold (etc.), the heavenly Jerusalem will be adorned with us. 

One final picture of this I will present here is the mountain theme. Mountains are constantly depicted as places of God’s presence: His city in which He is enthroned. Eden, Sinai, Zion, and so forth. Mountains are also temples, locations of sacrifice; hence, altars were miniature mountains. We, as living sacrifices, come to the true Mount Zion, the city of the living God (Hebrews 12:22). United to Christ, we are also mountains, living stones built upon the Chief Cornerstone of the Rock of Christ, the builder of His house-church. So when Daniel 2 mentions an uncut stone that grows to become a great mountain and smashes the false body-politic/temple/idolatrous worship – true worship[pers] triumphs over false worsip[pers] – it simultaneously pictures the city-people-worship of God as simultaneously growing to encompass the whole cosmos, scattering God's enemies to establish His kingdom and throne (cf. various parables like the mustard seed, which grows to become a tree of refuge to the nations-birds).

I find that an implication of this excursus is that Christology, anthopology, ecclesiology, sociology, cosmology, and other -ologies of places and people at least tend to mirror one another from first things to last things, from the protological to eschatological. Actions of God and man – soteriological ones, yes, but also pre-redemptive historical actions such as doxology, liturgy, faith, obedience, etc. – are the means by which this glorification from first to last takes place. And, I suppose, Trinitarianism is at root. After all, the chief end of man is the glory-exaltation of God.

There's clearly a lot more than could be fleshed out here, but I leave it to the reader's consideration for now.