A Note about Gothard

Just a quick note about Gothard.

Yesterday’s post may have left you wondering what I really do think about Gothard, whether I consider him a false teacher, and so on and so forth.

The answer is, I don’t know.

I attended Gothard’s seminars as an early teen who had serious issues with law and grace. In many ways, I was living as one of the foolish Galatians, bewitched to think that having been saved by grace, I now needed to be made right by good works.

While I did not hear the message of grace in Gothard’s teaching, that is not to say that it was not there. At that point in my life, I was eager for rules to follow to make myself perfect–I probably would have ignored the message of grace if Gothard had presented it.

Even if I did hear it then, my memory is faulty and it has been years since I attended a Gothard seminar.

I have often mused to myself or to others that I’d like to go back to a seminar again, to hear it with new ears and be able to actually evaluate it. Unfortunately, the others who I’ve asked to go with me were more scarred than I by their first experiences with Gothard (that is, of having to sit in a seminar for long hours with little sensory input.)

I have not been back to a Gothard seminar since the summer where God changed my life by changing my view of justification. I have never been to a Gothard seminar since my heart became tuned to the rhythms of grace.

Which means I can really offer no commentary at all on Gothard’s teaching. I don’t know. In a very real sense, I’ve never heard Gothard–at least, never through glasses unsmudged by desperate longing for perfection through works.

So…Anybody wanna meet me at a Gothard seminar? I’m still looking for someone to go with me. I’m willing to travel anywhere. :-)


A Comment Ministry

Years ago, I wrote a brief post about Bill Gothard and what I remembered about the two Basic Life Seminars and one Advanced Life Seminar I attended. I wrote that I remember Gothard presenting lots of rules and “princibles”, but that I don’t remember Gothard presenting the gospel.

Two months ago, I received an e-mail from an individual I have never before heard of in my life. This individual referenced my post on Gothard and sent me a link to a website that helps the “spiritually abused” recover.

More recently, a bloggie-friend posted a list of books she was either reading or going to start reading–and mentioned a book by C.J. Mahaney.

Someone, who I have never seen commenting on this friend’s posts before, wrote the following in the comments: “It has been shown that [C.J. Mahaney] doesn’t practice what he teaches.”

So what I want to know is, what do these folks think they are accomplishing in making such comments?

The man who read my post about Gothard undoubtedly stumbled across my blog somehow or another and found himself moved with compassion at the spiritual abuse I clearly described myself to have suffered. Desperate to do something to help, he searched relentlessly for a resource that might be able to meet me where I was at.

And surely the man who commented on my blog-friend’s post saw something in her writing that demonstrated that she was likely to be led astray by Mahaney. I am convinced that he was attempting to save his sister from false doctrine.

Right?

I kinda doubt it.

A more likely scenario is that someone with a beef against Gothard googled “Gothard” and maybe “law” and ended up on my site. Having found an accounting of my personal experiences with Gothard, he read liberally between the lines to determine that I had been “spiritually abused.” Having seen what he was looking for (although not necessarily what was actually there), he did what he had been intending to do all along. “Help” some poor “victim” of Gothard’s false teaching.

A more likely scenario is that someone with a beef against Mahaney either deliberately searched out or accidentally stumbled over a post in which Mahaney’s book was described–and felt it necessary to “share” his “knowledge” about Mahaney.

These men might even consider this e-mail/blog-comment trolling to be a ministry–correcting falsehoods within the church.

Yet this approach strikes me as singularly unsatisfying.

Perhaps some individuals have suffered spiritual abuse at Gothard’s hands. I am not one of them. Anyone who knows me and has actually talked to me about Gothard knows that I bear no lasting damage as a result of Gothard’s teaching (in fact, whatever I may think of certain of his teachings and whatever I may remember or not remember about how the gospel was or was not presented, Gothard’s teaching on “unchangeables” was quite beneficial to me when I first heard it as an early teen.)

But my e-mailer did not know me. He failed in ministering to me because he did not know me well enough to diagnose my problems or to provide an appropriate solution. Instead, he ended up being an annoyance.

Likewise, what the commenter said about Mahaney may be true. Perhaps Mahaney does not practice what he preaches. But my blogger-friend who mentioned Mahaney’s book is not promoting Mahaney’s lifestyle, nor is she uncritically accepting Mahaney’s teaching. On the other hand, what the commenter said about Mahaney may be false. Perhaps Mahaney does practice what he preaches. How does my blogger-friend know that she can trust the (I presume unknown to her) commenter?

Judging from this commenter’s lack of previous comments on my friend’s posts, the commenter likely knows little about my blogger-friend–and my blogger-friend likely knows little of him. As a result, his comment is little more than idle words. I doubt they will keep my friend from reading the book she had already purposed to read–and I doubt they will change her way of reading the book. The comment ends up being just words on a page, well-meant, perhaps, but meaningless.

Because ministry and correction flow from relationship, not from a cursory reading of words on a page.

Does this mean that ministry or correction cannot occur through a blog or an e-mail? No.

I have been ministered to greatly through comments on my blog. I have received needed correction to my thoughts and attitudes as a result of comments or e-mails from my readers.

But those comments that ended up being ministry (either as encouragement or as correction) had a few features not found in the aforementioned comments about Gothard and Mahaney:

1. The comments that ministered were comments based on a careful reading of what was actually said

The commenters bothered to read what I said, to try to ascertain my intent in what I had said, and to get background when necessary (by reading other posts or asking questions.)

2. The comments that ministered were comments from people who proved their care.

The commenters proved that they cared more about me than about being right or about proving another person or idea wrong. They took initiative to build a relationship with me, to also comment on the trivialities that I posted–instead of just bursting out of nowhere to correct me.

3. The comments that ministered were comments that took their authority from the Word of God.

The commenters backed up their encouragement or their correction with Scripture (or, at the least, with principles from Scripture.) They told me where they felt that I had erred in my thinking in relation to what the Word of God says–or they affirmed my actions or thoughts in relation to what the Word of God says.

So tell me, have you ever been ministered to by a comment on your blog? What were some of the characteristics I’ve missed? Have you experienced any not-so-ministering comments (like the one someone sent me about Gothard)? I’d love to hear your stories.


Fight to be alone

It was almost a month ago now that my pastor preached a sermon entitled “A Theology of Time from the Life of Christ”.

I listened, I was convicted, I couldn’t figure out what I needed to do. I was busy. How was I going to put this into practice?

At that time, I was reading James in my personal devotions and the part in chapter 1 about the man who looks at his face in the mirror and then forgets what he looks like was stamped on my brain.

I mentioned something from the sermon to Lisa, she invited me to share more from the sermon with her. I was eager for the additional motivation to take another hard look at my face in the mirror–and this time to remember what my face looked like.

So I’ve been slowly revisiting Justin’s six points.

Point 2: Fight to be alone with God

Jesus did. He regularly got up early in the morning to find a secluded place to pray. Even when the demands on His time were great, His need to be away with His Father was greater. (Mark 1:35-36; Luke 5:15-16)

Justin used the illustration of flying on an airplane with a child. If the air pressure inside the plane drops and the oxygen masks are needed, parents need to put their masks on first. Why? Because they can’t help if they’re dead.

In the same way, we need to be in communion with God. If not, the rest of our busy lives will be unfruitful–because we’re living them out dead.

Fight. That’s the word Justin used. Fight to be alone with God.

Struggle. Work at. Push towards.

Fight to be alone with God.

I fight for things I love, for things I consider important.

I fight for time to blog, coming home for lunch if I know I won’t have time to prepare a post some other time.

I fight for time to read, taking a book with me to the bathroom, into bed, with me as I fold laundry.

I fight for my evening baths, giving up sleep to make sure I get them.

But do I fight to be alone with God?

I’m choosing to. I’m choosing to make time alone with God a priority. I’m choosing to make the time to be alone.

I want to be like Martin Luther, who said he prayed an hour each day, except on particularly busy days. On those days he prayed two hours.

Even more than that, I want to be like Christ.

And if He fought to be alone with His Father, than I want to fight to be alone with the Father as well.

If you’d like to listen to Pastor Justin’s excellent sermon “A Theology of Time from the Life of Christ”, you can find the mp3 at Highland Park’s Worship Service Archive. It’s “A Theology of Time” dated 7/31/11.


On Bibles that aren’t translations (Choosing a Bible, Part 2c)

Now that you understand formal vs functional equivalence, have heard my best argument for functional equivalence, and have discovered my personal bias for formal equivalence…

you’re ready for a bunny trail.

Right?

Of course right.

The categories that I’ve deliberately left out of my discussion of methods of translations are the one-man translation and the paraphrase.

The One-Man Translation

The most famous of one-man translations (perhaps the only one popularly available?) is Eugene Peterson’s The Message.

The Message is a translation, in that it was translated from the original languages (Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic) by a scholar in those languages (Peterson). But it differs from most other translations in two important ways.

First The Message goes a step further than functional equivalence in trying to make the “tone” of the text closer to the original. This is called “idiomatic” translation. When we take into account the fact that the New Testament was written in Koine (or common) Greek rather than the more formal classical Greek, this mode of translation makes sense. The New Testament (at least) was written in the vernacular, not in the language of the elite but in the language of the common man–street language. The Message approximates this effect. This is great in one respect and not-so-great in another. Remember that the further we get from a word-for-word translation, the more opportunity there is for interpretation to be included in the translation. So The Message can contain a lot of interpretation.

The other distinct way in which The Message differs from other translations is that it is a translation undertaken by one man. While most Bible translation is done by a relatively large group of scholars, The Message was translated by just one scholar. This means that unlike other translations, The Message is prone to reflect the linguistic and theological strengths and weaknesses of its one translator. Where other translations have a system of checks and balances to correct for linguistic weaknesses and theological slants, a one-man translation does not.

Due to the high probability that The Message and other one-man translations (if they exist) contain personal interpretation, I do not believe that they are a good choice for personal study. The Message can be a useful tool, and is definitely an interesting read, but it should not be one’s primary “Bible”.

The Paraphrase

The second category of Bible that I haven’t yet discussed is the paraphrase. Paraphrases are, well…

How exactly does one describe a paraphrase?

A paraphrase is what you get when someone puts the Bible into their own words. Unlike with translations, where scholars work from the original languages and translate the original language into a modern language, paraphrases generally take an English translation as their starting point.

As a result, the paraphrase is VERY prone to interpretation, and lacks the scholarship that goes into creating a functionally-equivalent translation. Translators of a functional-equivalence Bible go to great pains to ensure that the way they are translating reflects the best scholarship on what the original audience would have understood from individual words, phrases, and pericopes. Paraphrasers have no such scholarship underlining their word and phrase choices. They are simply rephrasing the English Bible as they understand it–not attempting to translate it as it should have been or would have been understood by its original audience.

The primary example of a paraphrase is The Living Bible (not to be confused with the New Living Translation, which is truly a translation in the functional-equivalence camp).

My opinion toward paraphrases is similar to my opinion on the one-man translation. They can be interesting to read, but they should never be used as your primary “Bible”.

When choosing a Bible, much better to read the words of God than the words of man. Choose a translation (not a one-man translation or a paraphrase.)


A Case for Functional Equivalence (Choosing a Bible, Part 2b)

Being a cerebral sort with a high reading level and general affinity for both grammar and poetry, I gravitate towards translations that use formal equivalence. Many in my family do the same, for similar reasons (we’re rather a nerdy family with quite a few high “T” people.)

When my dad switched from the formal equivalent NASB to the functional equivalent TNIV, it sent shockwaves through the family. We would never have guessed, Dad being the most “T” of us all.

But Dad had a compelling case to make for his switch. He had been convinced after reading Gordon Fee’s How to Read the Bible for all it’s worth that the vocabulary and syntax of formal equivalence is a stumbling block that stands in the way of clear evangelistic presentation of the gospel. Apparently, Fee argues that believers who use formal equivalence for their daily reading, study, and preaching–even if they paraphrase Scripture–will still tend to use the same awkward language style in their presentation of the gospel, alienating their a-religious audience in the process.

This seems a bit far-fetched to someone who has grown up speaking of the “Grace of God” and “fear of God”, who is used to thinking of some people or things as “Bless-ed”, and who understands the word “begotten.” But to the average a-religious individual, those figures or speech and ways of expressing oneself are as foreign as if someone had come to me speaking in the Thees and Thous and sinneths of the KJV. I can understand the language of the KJV, but it is certainly not my language of fluency–and the use of thees and thous and sinneths in a message would distract me from the message. In the same way, these ways of speaking which I find so familiar are unfamiliar and distracting to the a-religious.

It’s a compelling argument-probably the most compelling I’ve ever heard–for the use of functional equivalence. Certainly, I can see the utility of a translation using functional equivalence for a seeker’s study or for a new believer’s personal devotional life. The idea that we speak what we read also makes a case for why mature believers might want to read and memorize from translations that use functional equivalence.

I haven’t switched to functional equivalence myself, but hearing my dad’s argument has forced me to rethink my evaluation of other people’s translational choices.

I am inclined to ascribe laziness to users of functional equivalence. This argument reminds me that their motivation might actually be love.

I say scholarship leads me to use formal equivalence. This argument reminds me that my motivation may actually be pride.


Form or function? (Choosing a Bible, Part 2)

When discussing philosophies of Biblical translations, there are two main classifications: formal equivalence and functional equivalence.

Formal equivalence attempts to maintain the “form” of the original language inasmuch as possible. This can also be described as a word-for-word translation (although that descriptor isn’t always technically accurate.)

Functional equivalence attempts to maintain the “function” of the original language inasmuch as possible. This can be described as a thought-for-thought translation. Functional equivalence is also sometimes termed “dynamic equivalence.”

The following chart summarizes a few of the differences between formal and functional equivalence in translation:

Formal Equivalence Functional Equivalence
Word-for-word Thought-for-thought
Words more “true to original” Tone more “true to original”
Syntax often more awkward Syntax often more natural
Generally higher reading level Generally lower reading level
Examples: NKJV, NASB, ESV Examples: NIV, TNIV, NLT

Why you should choose to use formal equivalence:

  • Lends itself well to deep personal study and rich word studies
  • Less opportunity for interpretation in translation
  • Generally uses more traditional terminology
  • May be more “poetic” (“Grace of God” rather than “God’s grace”)

Why you should not choose to use formal equivalence:

  • We’re not all scholars (especially not of Greek and Hebrew)
  • We’re not all readers (and formal equivalence does require more work to read and understand)

Why you should choose to use functional equivalence:

  • Easily read and understood
  • Lends itself well to devotional and evangelistic reading
  • Better captures tone of the original (which, since we aren’t all scholars, we might not be able to understand from a formal equivalence translation)

Why you should not choose to use functional equivalence:

  • It’s worthwhile to stretch our minds in the study of the Bible
  • The text is more likely to contain interpretation by the translator

Ultimately, both formal and functional equivalence can be useful modes for Bible translation–and are acceptable for use. I think it would benefit most believers to have at least one translation from each camp. Which type any given individual uses routinely and which type one uses as a reference probably varies a great deal based on one’s personal inclination towards cerebral or psychosocial expression. (Whether one is a “thinker” or a “feeler”, to use Myers-Briggs typology.)


On Choosing a Bible (Part 1)

A dozen and a quarter years ago, I was beginning my teen years and was in need of a good, hefty Bible to make me feel like a good, proper Christian.

An NIV Life Application Bible fit the bill–weighing in at approximately fifty billion pounds, it was my constant companion and sure proof of my spirituality.

Then, in my senior year of high school, I grew disillusioned with what I felt was the childish tone of the NIV. It just so happened that the Bible program I was in had me purchasing a number of different Bibles, so I found myself with a NASB Life Application Study Bible, a (second) NIV Life Application Study Bible, and a NKJV Thompson Chain Reference Study Bible.

The NKJV became my companion, probably for the sake of the non-applicable study notes.

Imagine, a study Bible that actually was about studying the Bible? (Do I sense some bitterness towards the–count them–three identical, expensive, and utterly useless Life Application Study Bibles?)

When I needed a smaller Bible for my trip to Sweden less than a year later, I chose a leather-bound NKJV.

A bit of a word-study nerd, I’d come to love the formal equivalence and old-fashioned syntax of the New King James. I was an NKJV girl, I proudly declared.


We had our little family squabbles over translations.

Half of us were squarely in the formal equivalence camp, favoring the translations that anal-retentive geeks everywhere adore. The other half didn’t really enter into the Bible translation conversation.

NASB vs. NKJV

That was our big argument.

Abridged or unabridged.

Until Dad (up to that point a true NASB lover) turned tails and suddenly started using the TNIV.

We were all aghast.

Not only was he going for a dynamic equivalence instead of a formal equivalence, he was choosing the infamous gender-neutral Bible.

Why would he do such a thing?


I contemplated getting another Bible off and on for about a year.

My Bible was getting a bit bedraggled. It had been dropped in the bathtub several times, dropped in the toilet once (was that TMI?), and squished into my shoulder bag more times than could be counted.

I started reading up on textual criticism and the pros and cons of the NU text versus the Majority Text. I became sold on the NU Text even as I appreciated how the additions made in the Majority text have (by the grace of God) little impact on things of doctrinal importance.

I started reading Reformed bloggers and started attending a solidly NASB church.

But spending money on a new Bible when I already had five or ten at home seemed wasteful–especially if I was purchasing a translation I already owned.

I held off. No new Bible for this girl.

That is, no new Bible until the second to last day of July, when I sat at my parent’s kitchen table, puzzling over the “so then” in James 1:19–

“So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath;” (NKJV)

The “so then” clearly indicated that this command was related back to what the author (James) had just said. But I couldn’t find any reasonable connection between the previous statement and the current command.

I read it over and over and over again.

I set down my Bible and paced a bit, took a bathroom break, got some cereal. I picked the Bible up again and re-read some more.

I got frustrated. James was just the most confusing book. I’d been struggling all week to figure out its theme.

My dad’s statement that James is like a New Testament Proverbs helped me quite a bit in interpreting the book altogether–but with that “so then” in there, there had to be a connection. Dad’s “Proverbs” trick couldn’t get me out of this one.

That’s when I saw the footnote: “NU Text reads Know This.”

There wasn’t a connection. There wasn’t supposed to be a connection. The “so then” doesn’t exist. That was a Majority-text addition not included in the best (NU-text) manuscripts.

I was getting a new Bible.


Lest you be completely confused by this post, have no fear. I intend this to be a lead in to several articles about choosing a Bible. My intent is to explain some of the jargon (and jokes) I’ve used in this article, hopefully in a way that will help you to understand some of the thought process that goes into wisely selecting a Bible translation (and a study Bible).


A call for help

When Cathy said Erik was caught up in my computer-building drama, I didn’t really believe her. She was just saying that he’d be interested in it because he’s a computer guy–not because he actually is interested in it.

I learned that I was wrong when week after week, Erik asked me how the process was coming along.

When I started having difficulties and issued a general request via Facebook, he was pleased to lend me a DVD player.

When I described how I was moving my files onto my new computer via flash drives because I couldn’t hook both hard drives up and have them read correctly, he chastised me for not calling him for an adapter.

Then the computer troubles I thought I’d resolved began again. The OS that I thought I’d installed properly started giving me problems.

I had to start over–and I wasn’t sure how exactly to start.

“Call Erik,” Ruth urged me. “You heard what he said Friday night–‘If I have diet questions, I call you… If you have computer questions, you call me.'”

I didn’t want to do it.

My pride says I can do everything on my own. My pride resists asking for help. My pride wants to be in control.

“Either you call him, or I’ll call him for you,” Ruth threatened.

My throat started to close up and my eyes started watering. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to ask for help. Didn’t want to admit (until I’d figured out how to solve it on my own) that I was having trouble.

But I knew it wasn’t Ruth’s call to make.

It was mine.

I just had to be willing to humble myself enough to call for help.

I called. We talked. Erik gave some suggestions.

It wasn’t that bad.

It didn’t kill me–only my pride.


My Application Essay

I’m applying for membership at my church here in Columbus, and one of the questions on the application is “Please write out the circumstances of your conversion to faith in Jesus Christ. State Scriptural support for your experience.”

As a grown and raised “church kid”, I always feel like I’m making up a testimony every time I tell my testimony of conversion.

Somehow, “I asked Jesus into my heart in my preschool Sunday School room with Miss Pam leading a prayer” doesn’t really cut it.

Yet that was the first time I trusted in Christ–and I’ve been learning more about how to trust Him (and what that means) ever since.

Anyhow, this is my first (er…second by the time I’m done typing it all up) draft of my application testimony:


I trusted in Christ for salvation as a child, but the rest of my life so far has been an adventure of learning exactly what that means.

Probably the most pivotal time in my spiritual walk was during a summer training program with the Navigators.

Prior to that summer, I had known about the doctrine of justification, but had always thought of justification as a legal change only. I knew that I was legally right before God on the basis of the cross, but I had the idea that God was disgusted by me until He had “pulled my file” and realized I was covered by grace.

As a result, I had been working hard to make myself right so that God would be pleased with me at first glance.

Yet, through the course of the summer, God made clear to me that I was right in God’s eyes (from first glance), not because of what I had done or not done (Titus 3:5, Galatians 2:16), but because of what Jesus had done (Romans 5:18-19).

Freed from the pursuit of righteousness by my works (Hebrews 6:1), I discovered the blessedness (Romans 4:5-8) of delighting in Christ who is, for me, righteousness (I Corinthians 1:30).


The Scriptures:

I am right in God’s eyes not because of what I had done or not done

“Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us, through the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy Spirit.”
~Titus 3:5

“Knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the law but by faith in Jesus Christ, even we have believed in Christ Jesus, that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the law; for by the works of the law no flesh shall be justified. ”
~Galatians 2:16

but because of what Jesus had done

“Therefore, as through one man’s offense judgment came to all men, resulting in condemnation, even so through one Man’s righteous act the free gift came to all men, resulting in justification of life. For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so also by one Man’s obedience many will be made righteous. ”
~Romans 5:18-19

Freed from the pursuit of righteousness by my works

“Therefore, leaving the discussion of the elementary principles of Christ, let us go on to perfection, not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God,”
~Hebrews 6:1

I discovered the blessedness

“But to him who does not work but believes on Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is accounted for righteousness, just as David also describes the blessedness of the man to whom God imputes righteousness apart from works:
‘Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven,
And whose sins are covered;
Blessed is the man to whom the LORD shall not impute sin.'”
~Romans 4:5-8

of delighting in Christ who is, for me, righteousness

“But of Him you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God—and righteousness and sanctification and redemption—”
~I Corinthians 1:30


So what do you think? Does that answer the question?

I believe that I was truly converted prior to that summer–so it isn’t quite a testimony of conversion, per se. Yet it is my true testimony of how God “converted” my eyes that I could see the salvation He had already wrought for me in Christ–not just righteousness on paper or in heaven someday, but in reality right now.

Would you let me into your church if you saw a testimony like that?


My Covetous Heart

We were sitting on the dock, our feet in the water, discussing The Greener Grass Conspiracy.

I was telling her that I feel like I’m in one of those odd moments in life when I feel content.

In other words, my whole being is not currently burning for a husband, a house, or children. (My three favorite idols.)

I’m content, I say.

Until I realize how many things I’m still not quite content about.

I haven’t quite finished building my brand-new computer–but already, I’m wishing I could have justified another 4 GB of memory, a new hard drive instead of a recycled one. Already I’m questioning my decision to not buy a copy of Microsoft Office and to instead go with the FreeWare OpenOffice.

I’m the owner of a brand new camera, one I haven’t even begun to discover the features of–and already, I’m wishing I had more time in which to play with it. I’m wishing I were a bird-watcher like Janet and could take such beautiful photos of birds.

Duck and ducklings in lake

But even when I snap pictures of a mother duck with her little ducklings, out for a swim in the twilight, I am still not content.

Oh my discontent, my covetous heart!

Stephen Altrogge speaks truth when he says:

“The raging, covetous, discontented desires come from within. They’re not the product of my circumstances, and the desires won’t be satisfied when circumstances change.”

Because my covetous heart just finds another thing to envy.

So, Lord, may I seek contentment–and find contentment–in You, rather than in any circumstance, whether good or bad.