
by John M. Frame
At
Westminster Seminary, one of the most exciting discoveries students make is the
history of redemption or biblical theology. When we come to see Scripture as
the history of redemption, we see far more clearly how all of Scripture bears
witness to Christ. And biblical theology opens up to us the wonderful vision of
the eschatology of redemption: that in Christ the last days are here, and we
are dwelling with him in the heavenly places. Redemption has been accomplished
already, and its blessings are ours. There is, of course, a “not yet” as well
as an “already.” The consummation has come, but it is still yet to come. We
live as those who are sanctified, but not perfected.
The tension
between the already and the not-yet is the setting of New Testament ethical
reflection. God has justified us in Christ and has given us his Spirit; yet sin
remains and will not be completely destroyed until the final day. Nevertheless,
the “already,” the definitive accomplishment of redemption in Christ is our
motivation for obedience.
In our
preaching and teaching, we should clearly set forth this framework as the
context of ethical decision making.
However, I
believe that it is possible to go too far in our emphasis on the history of
redemption. Although the two-age structure of Pauline ethics is important, it
does not by any means exhaust the biblical teaching relevant to our ethical
decisions. There are pages and pages of Scripture devoted to the details of God’s
law, to proverbs about the practical life of the believer, to the heart
motivations of love and faith that should impel our passion for holiness.
Now some
will point out that all these other elements of biblical ethics are to be
understood “in the context of” the two-age schema. True enough; but contextual
arguments work both ways. If the law and the proverbs are to be understood in
the context of the already and not-yet, the opposite is also true: the
semi-eschatological tension must be understood in terms of the law of God. It
is the law which defines the sinfulness from which Christ redeemed us. And God
saves us so that we may keep the law (Rom. 8:4). The law defines how we should express our gratitude for
Jesus’ redemption.
Should
ethical preaching be redemptive-historical? Certainly; but it should also
expound God’s laws and the new inner motivations to which we are called. In my
terminology, redemptive history is the situational perspective, the situation
in which we make ethical decisions. The law is the normative, and the motive is
the existential. All three perspectives should be preached and taught, if
Christians are to gain a balanced perspective on Christian ethics.
Should
every sermon have redemptive history as its principal subject? I would say no.
There is nothing in the Bible itself that requires us to restrict preaching in
this way. And there are many ethical passages in Scripture which do not
explicitly focus on the eschatological ethical tension—such as Proverbs and
some of the ethical passages of the New Testament. We should not demand that a
preacher emphasize something that is not emphasized in his text. If one argues
that these texts must be seen in the light of the broader biblical principles
of redemptive history, again I would reply that the reverse is also true.
Surely we
cannot maintain that every relevant
theological context be brought into the exposition of every text. I believe
that if a preacher emphasizes grace in his overall ministry, including the
proper relationship between grace and works, it is not wrong for him
occasionally to preach on a Proverb, a law, or a norm, without devoting his
central attention to the eschatological ethical tension.
There are
some passages that are very confusing to modern congregations unless we say
something about their redemptive-historical setting. God told Israel under
Joshua to kill the Canaanites. Does he tell us to do the same? Certainly not,
because the command presupposes a redemptive-historical setting very different
from ours. The iniquity of the Canaanite is full; it is time for God’s judgment
against those nations and the fulfillment of His promise to Abraham. Those
conditions don’t exist in our relationships with non-Christian neighbors.
So every
preacher must be aware of the redemptive-historical setting of his text. But
that doesn’t imply that the sermon must always be about that setting. There is no biblical rule that such settings
are the only proper subject-matter of sermons.
And there
are dangers in the practice of preaching exclusively on redemptive-historical
themes:
1. Much
biblical truth can be left out or illegitimately de-emphasized. The preacher
does not feel free to dwell on the specifics, say, of Romans 12, because he
feels he must spend most of his time of the redemptive-historical setting of
the passage (i.e. Romans 1-11).
2. Some
redemptive-historical preachers seem to have an antipathy to the very idea of
practical application. I don’t understand the argument very well. James
Dennison objects to the term “application,” because he believes it had bad
connotations in theologies like Schleiermacher’s and Bultmann’s. But
criticizing language on such grounds is an instance of genetic fallacy. And
Dennison’s proposed alternatives, “participation in the text,” “identification
with the text,” have also been used in non-Christian philosophies, particularly
those of Plato and the mystics. And the alternative “living in the text” is
really too vague to denote a purposeful ethical preaching thrust.
3. If the
argument about application were merely a terminological dispute, it would be of
little importance. But I get the impression that some who stress redemptive
history really want to avoid “practical” application. They want the whole
sermon to focus on Christ, not on what works the believer should do. They want
it to focus on gospel, not on law. So they want the sermon to evoke praise of
Christ, not to demand concrete change in people’s behavior. In their mind,
Christocentricity excludes any sustained focus on specific practical matters.
I too think
sermons should magnify Christ and evoke praise. But it is simply wrongheaded to
deny the importance of concrete, practical, ethical application. Such
application is the purpose of Scripture itself, according to 2 Tim. 3:16-17.
And since Scripture contains many practical “how tos,” our preaching should
include those too. To say that this emphasis detracts from Christocentricity is
unscriptural.
Christ is
central in Scripture as the Redeemer. But he is also the Word, Wisdom, the
Lawgiver, the Lord of the Covenant, the Lion of Judah, the Shepherd who leads
his people into the right paths. It is wrong to assume that an emphasis on
Christ as Redeemer (redemptive history) excludes an emphasis on Christ as norm
and motivator.
When a
preacher avoids concrete ethical applications in his sermons, he is not
preaching the whole counsel of God, and he is not adequately edifying his
people.
The best
redemptive-historical preachers understand this. Some of the most powerful
ethical preaching I have heard has come from Ed Clowney and Jim Dennison.
4. Some
redemptive-historical preachers develop a jargon-laden vocabulary. One recent
WTS graduate preached a sermon in chapel a year or so ago in which he used the
word “eschatological” about fifty times (at least it felt like that), and a lot
of other technical biblical-theological jargon. Maybe he thought that was all
right, or even an advantage, with an audience of seminarians. My guess is that
seminarians tend to tune out to such discourses—they have heard all of that
many times. But so facile was the young preacher with this language, I feared
that he preached this way in his own congregation. If he did, I fear that
anyone who visited the service would have been entirely bewildered.
In my view
it is best to avoid jargon in preaching generally. And one can make the
relevant points about redemptive history without all the technical terms. Most
evangelical preachers emphasize (a) that God forgives all the sins of everyone
who believes in Christ, (b) that we nevertheless need to continue fighting the
spiritual warfare (in our hearts and our society) until the return of Jesus (c)
that the redemptive work of Christ is what motivates us to pursue holiness. I
believe that those truths constitute the essence of the “already/not-yet,” and
this language communicates the truth far more effectively than does the jargon.
5. Excess
enthusiasm for redemptive history has sometimes produced division in churches
and presbyteries. Some pastors not only preach redemptive history, but they
condemn as moralistic anybody who fails to emphasize it as much as they do. So
“redemptive history” becomes a party label, and factions battle over the
concept. In my opinion, this partisanship is wrong.
Why is it,
I wonder, that in our circles whenever anybody gets an interesting idea, it
produces a party that makes it a test of orthodoxy, leading to another party
that opposes it, and then to battles between these parties in the churches? Why
can’t those who think they have new insights quietly teach their insights to
others while embracing them as brothers and sisters in Christ? If some don’t
“get it,” why should that amount to heresy? Why not simply permit both views to
be taught until the Spirit convinces God’s people generally that one view is
Scriptural and the other is not?
In recent
Reformed history, we have had these partisan battles over Van Til’s apologetics
(and now, different schools of Van
Tillian apologetics), common grace, the incomprehensibility of God,
supra/infralapsarianism, theonomy, the relation between grace and law in the
covenants, Shepherd’s view of justification, nouthetic counseling, exclusive
Psalmody, contemporary worship, means of church growth, redemptive-historical
preaching. None of these is resolved in our Reformed confessions, but partisans
act as if they were. They think their view alone is orthodox, and their
opponents are dangerous heretics. Can’t we just lighten up a bit? Can we never
admit our fallibility? Is there not a place, on some issues, for teachability,
even tolerance? Can’t we ever agree to disagree in peace and love, working
together on those matters where we agree?
The term
“moralism” needs more examination. In my estimation, preachers who stress points
(a) through (c) above under #4 should not be called moralistic. “Moralism” was
a term associated particularly with the social gospel liberals of the Ritchlian
school of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. They had no gospel at
all. To use that term of principled evangelicals of our own time, I believe, is
an injustice.
I think that a preacher is
moralistic if in his ministry (1) there is no substantial emphasis on salvation
by grace through faith in Christ alone, (2) there is no substantial emphasis on
the points mentioned above in 4 (a)-(c), (3) his sermons regularly err because
of his failure to understand the redemptive-historical context of his texts. If
any one of these characterizes his preaching, I would call him moralistic.
As I said
above, however, I don’t believe that every sermon must be about redemptive history. If a congregation is well-informed about
the biblical relation of grace and works, I don’t see why the pastor might not
occasionally focus on, say, an ethical text, without dwelling at great length
on the redemptive-historical setting. To call a pastor moralistic because he
preaches such sermons is wrong, in my view. And to call a pastor moralistic
because he does not use the jargon of
biblical theology is slanderous.
And I would reiterate that
neglecting the redemptive-historical context is in my view no worse a sin than
neglecting the normative or existential contexts of biblical ethics.
6. An exclusive emphasis on
redemptive history can become repetitious and tiresome, especially when it is
jargon-laden.
7. For some reason, it seems to me
that enthusiasts for redemptive history are often poor logicians. In some
sermons, presbytery speeches, student papers, even some published treatises, I
have often heard elaborate citations of Scripture, alreadys and not-yets,
Messianic this and Eschatological that, and then at the end some conclusion (a
doctrinal, ethical, or procedural point) that doesn’t have much at all to do
with the redemptive-historical argumentation.
8. Young preachers who try to
preach redemptive-historical sermons often spend so much time preparing the
theology of their messages that they completely neglect rhetorical
considerations, i.e. communication.
So their sermons come across as a lot of gobbledeygook. The redemptive-historical
method of preaching typically takes much more preparation time than others. And
at its best it requires substantial intellectual and rhetorical gifts which few
seminarians and young pastors possess. When average preachers with busy schedules
try to prepare redemptive-historical sermons, the result is often
incomprehensible. Now, you can say what you like about the dangers of
neglecting redemptive history; but a sermon that does not communicate with the
people is not preaching at all.
So all I ask of a young preacher is
that he preach clearly the gospel of grace, a proper relation between grace and
works, and no major errors stemming from redemptive-historical ignorance. These
are simple goals, well within the abilities of seminary trained young men whom
God has called to the ministry. When a preacher accomplishes these goals, he
may not fairly be accused of moralism. His preaching will be biblical and
effective.
I think it is usually counter-productive for young preachers to try to emulate the profundity of Clowney or Dennison. It is better in the early years of ministry to recognize your own limitations and to seek what’s most important: clear communication of the biblical gospel.