Labels: love 'em, hate 'em
by Dan Phillips
How we feel about labels often seems to vary in accord with whether we deserve a bad one. Or so I've observed. Liberals don't like to be called liberal, nor do leaky-Canoneers, emergents, pro-aborts, and a host of others seem to love the appellations that (at least to some degree) fit them.
Fundamentalist. Worse still, labels at their best are of varying utility. Take "Fundamentalist." If you asked me whether I was a Fundamentalist, depending on a variety of factors my response would probably be, "Tell me what you mean by that."
Historically a Fundamentalist was someone who affirmed what were adjudged Biblical fundamentals, Scriptural doctrines particularly under fire in the early 1900's: the virgin birth, deity of Christ, inspiration of Scripture, miracles, and so forth. If that's what you meant, and if you didn't mean that these were all the doctrines I affirmed, I'd cheerfully admit that I was indeed a Fundamentalist, and an industrial-strength one at that.
But then the term strayed from its high birth to a lowly dilution in the following decades. From a very positive beginning, it came to a primarily negative connotation. Fundies were known by what they were agin', rather than what they were fer. They were angry and defensive. They came to be associated more with cultural pecularities (stands on nylons, lipstick, the touching of the alcohol, rock and roll, etc.) than with directly Biblical issues. The term came to be synonymous with "low-brow, angry, belligerent idiot." I'd not welcome a label, given that connotation.
And now the press has mangled it beyond easy recall, applying "fundamentalist" to anything they don't like -- fundamentalist regimes, Muslims, and so forth.
"Evangelical." I've often lamented the bastardization of "Evangelical." It once was nearly synonymous with "Fundamentalist," and had the distinct meaning of one devoted to the Evangel, the Good News, the Biblical Gospel. What does it mean now, when "evangelicals" embrace religions such as Roman Catholicism and Mormonism, sects that deny the Gospel at its root? When Fuller Seminary and Dallas and Westminster all equally can be called "Evangelical," I have to admit I have no idea whatever what it means anymore, and wonder whether it has any usefulness at all -- except to describe anyone to the right of Marcus Borg.
"Cessationist." Since I came to affirm that Holy Spirit's description of the sufficiency of Scripture and definition of the confirmatory or "sign" gifts, I didn't know what to call myself. "Non-charismatic" falls into the same ditch as "anti-abortion," defining a very positive and uplifting position by what it isn't, by what it opposes.
Then "cessationist" came along, and I was temporarily relieved at least to have a descriptive term. But then I realized with disappointment that, yet again, I was defining myself by what I didn't believe in, that I didn't believe that the Canon should be forced ajar and Scripture diluted to allow modern imitations to be lumped in with the exponentially-different Biblical phenomena. So I've tried for months, with no success, to come up with a fittingly positive term.
"Lordship salvation." I frankly don't love that label at all, and never use it of myself. Given that the other side characterizes itself (falsely) as affirming grace, it tacitly and unintentionally seems to agree that we see works as part of salvation, which we emphatically do not.
But what do you call the "other side"? The "grace" school? Surely this is to credit the position in ways it does not deserve, and foster misunderstandings.
As an aside, one of the bizarrest cross-linkings I've ever seen was to a post of mine in which I affirmed "Grace alone." Almost all of you will recognize this as the historic, Biblical, Reformed position, a distinctive that marks Christianity off from Roman Catholicism. Yet the author was evidently an adherent to this... this anti-Lordship, or whatever, school, and thought it strange that I, a 5-point Calvinist, should affirm grace alone.
It's enough to drive one to despair of all attempts at communication.
But I digress.
So what are better labels? In the light of 1 Corinthians 15:13, should I call mine the "Powerful Grace" school? Or, in the light of Titus 2:11-12, the "Saving-and-Sacntifying Grace," or the "Effective Grace" position? Either way, I think it best to call the other side the "Impotent Grace" faction, though I doubt they'd agree.
I could go on and on with other terms that are not as useful as one might hope, since they either say too much, too little, or too varied depending on the audience: Reformed, Calvinistic, conservative, and so on.
So is the answer, with some, simply to throw up one's hands in frustration and say, "I'm a Christian, period!"? To say, "I hate labels, I don't like them, I won't use them"? To adopt the (unintentionally) elitist, superior stance that I am so lofty and transcendently supercalifragilistic that I cannot be defined by a label, like lesser mortals can?
It has its appeal, but I'm afraid it's neither possible, nor desirable. I think we're hardwired to use labels. In fact, I think it's part of how God made us.
Genesis 1:26-28, as I read the Hebrew, effectively describes the "image of God" as the equipment necessary to rule and subdue creation under and for God. This work of exercising dominion is man's birthright, legacy, and calling, by creation.
Then when Genesis 2 pulls its tight close-up on the origins of man, we see the specifics. Adam wasn't simply told, "Subdue the earth... on three! One... two...." He was set down in the Garden, to work and subdue it (2:15), as his first assignment. In this connection the animals are brought to him, and he names them (2:19-20).
We read the narrative very badly if we see it as a quaint, "just-so" tale. To name a thing is to assert ownership of it; and to pick a name is to exercise study, analysis, and understanding. Naming involves categorization, categorization is an operation of subduing, and subduing is in our nature.
So it is necessary and desirable that we label positions. It is in our nature to think about, to analyze, to "capture" and subdue intellectually. It is this broken but brokenly-functional image that drives lost scientists to try to get a handle on aspects of creation, and it is this same image that moves us to get a handle on doctrinal and philosophical positions.
So labels are necessary and, in fact, unavoidable. They're an outgrowth of the imago Dei.
I just wish we had better ones -- and that they'd stay put once we make them up!
How we feel about labels often seems to vary in accord with whether we deserve a bad one. Or so I've observed. Liberals don't like to be called liberal, nor do leaky-Canoneers, emergents, pro-aborts, and a host of others seem to love the appellations that (at least to some degree) fit them.Fundamentalist. Worse still, labels at their best are of varying utility. Take "Fundamentalist." If you asked me whether I was a Fundamentalist, depending on a variety of factors my response would probably be, "Tell me what you mean by that."
Historically a Fundamentalist was someone who affirmed what were adjudged Biblical fundamentals, Scriptural doctrines particularly under fire in the early 1900's: the virgin birth, deity of Christ, inspiration of Scripture, miracles, and so forth. If that's what you meant, and if you didn't mean that these were all the doctrines I affirmed, I'd cheerfully admit that I was indeed a Fundamentalist, and an industrial-strength one at that.
But then the term strayed from its high birth to a lowly dilution in the following decades. From a very positive beginning, it came to a primarily negative connotation. Fundies were known by what they were agin', rather than what they were fer. They were angry and defensive. They came to be associated more with cultural pecularities (stands on nylons, lipstick, the touching of the alcohol, rock and roll, etc.) than with directly Biblical issues. The term came to be synonymous with "low-brow, angry, belligerent idiot." I'd not welcome a label, given that connotation.
And now the press has mangled it beyond easy recall, applying "fundamentalist" to anything they don't like -- fundamentalist regimes, Muslims, and so forth.
"Evangelical." I've often lamented the bastardization of "Evangelical." It once was nearly synonymous with "Fundamentalist," and had the distinct meaning of one devoted to the Evangel, the Good News, the Biblical Gospel. What does it mean now, when "evangelicals" embrace religions such as Roman Catholicism and Mormonism, sects that deny the Gospel at its root? When Fuller Seminary and Dallas and Westminster all equally can be called "Evangelical," I have to admit I have no idea whatever what it means anymore, and wonder whether it has any usefulness at all -- except to describe anyone to the right of Marcus Borg.
"Cessationist." Since I came to affirm that Holy Spirit's description of the sufficiency of Scripture and definition of the confirmatory or "sign" gifts, I didn't know what to call myself. "Non-charismatic" falls into the same ditch as "anti-abortion," defining a very positive and uplifting position by what it isn't, by what it opposes.
Then "cessationist" came along, and I was temporarily relieved at least to have a descriptive term. But then I realized with disappointment that, yet again, I was defining myself by what I didn't believe in, that I didn't believe that the Canon should be forced ajar and Scripture diluted to allow modern imitations to be lumped in with the exponentially-different Biblical phenomena. So I've tried for months, with no success, to come up with a fittingly positive term.
"Lordship salvation." I frankly don't love that label at all, and never use it of myself. Given that the other side characterizes itself (falsely) as affirming grace, it tacitly and unintentionally seems to agree that we see works as part of salvation, which we emphatically do not.
But what do you call the "other side"? The "grace" school? Surely this is to credit the position in ways it does not deserve, and foster misunderstandings.
As an aside, one of the bizarrest cross-linkings I've ever seen was to a post of mine in which I affirmed "Grace alone." Almost all of you will recognize this as the historic, Biblical, Reformed position, a distinctive that marks Christianity off from Roman Catholicism. Yet the author was evidently an adherent to this... this anti-Lordship, or whatever, school, and thought it strange that I, a 5-point Calvinist, should affirm grace alone.
It's enough to drive one to despair of all attempts at communication.
But I digress.
So what are better labels? In the light of 1 Corinthians 15:13, should I call mine the "Powerful Grace" school? Or, in the light of Titus 2:11-12, the "Saving-and-Sacntifying Grace," or the "Effective Grace" position? Either way, I think it best to call the other side the "Impotent Grace" faction, though I doubt they'd agree.
I could go on and on with other terms that are not as useful as one might hope, since they either say too much, too little, or too varied depending on the audience: Reformed, Calvinistic, conservative, and so on.
So is the answer, with some, simply to throw up one's hands in frustration and say, "I'm a Christian, period!"? To say, "I hate labels, I don't like them, I won't use them"? To adopt the (unintentionally) elitist, superior stance that I am so lofty and transcendently supercalifragilistic that I cannot be defined by a label, like lesser mortals can?
It has its appeal, but I'm afraid it's neither possible, nor desirable. I think we're hardwired to use labels. In fact, I think it's part of how God made us.
Genesis 1:26-28, as I read the Hebrew, effectively describes the "image of God" as the equipment necessary to rule and subdue creation under and for God. This work of exercising dominion is man's birthright, legacy, and calling, by creation.
Then when Genesis 2 pulls its tight close-up on the origins of man, we see the specifics. Adam wasn't simply told, "Subdue the earth... on three! One... two...." He was set down in the Garden, to work and subdue it (2:15), as his first assignment. In this connection the animals are brought to him, and he names them (2:19-20).
We read the narrative very badly if we see it as a quaint, "just-so" tale. To name a thing is to assert ownership of it; and to pick a name is to exercise study, analysis, and understanding. Naming involves categorization, categorization is an operation of subduing, and subduing is in our nature.
So it is necessary and desirable that we label positions. It is in our nature to think about, to analyze, to "capture" and subdue intellectually. It is this broken but brokenly-functional image that drives lost scientists to try to get a handle on aspects of creation, and it is this same image that moves us to get a handle on doctrinal and philosophical positions.
So labels are necessary and, in fact, unavoidable. They're an outgrowth of the imago Dei.
I just wish we had better ones -- and that they'd stay put once we make them up!
Spurgeon's contempt for modernism was well known:
Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776, in which the 13 colonies declared themselves independent of Great Britain, and which ended with the words “for the support of this declaration…we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.”
made it possible for us to loose ourselves from our sins by His blood. Nor does He say that Christ made loosing from our sins available by his blood. Rather, Jesus Christ actually loosed us from our sins by His blood!
Today I'm answering an e-mail I received after making some comments about God's sovereignty and the origin of evil. I subsequently heard from a gung-ho ultra-high Calvinist who suggested that if God is truly Sovereign, He must be both the author and efficient cause of evil as well. Indeed, he insisted, citing the KJV rendition of Isaiah 45:7, "God created evil."
term chazon used in this way. It just isn't. But you will find a consistent use of the term to indicate prophetic revelation, such as we have today in Scripture alone (cf. Isaiah 1:1; Daniel 8:1, 15; Hosea 12:11; Obadiah 1; Nahum 1:1, etc.).
anvil of far too much experience. My beloved wife is very goal-oriented, and she's superb at setting terrific goals. I remember a day she engineered at Disneyland with our (then) two children, and it was like the most precise ballet, starting at 8am and ending at 2am. What we packed into those hours makes for a breath-taking memory. Well over a decade later, I still marvel.
Brad, from 
I blogged today at my home blog about John 5 and the particular nature of Christ’s earthly work in that passage, but that topic always gets me stirred up about the nature of the work of Christ.
It is a proclamation of fact, not a question to be debated. I cannot trick you into hearing it, either – because a savior is not a trickster or a con-man who makes you think you’re getting cotton candy when in fact you are getting your teeth drilled even if you need your teeth drilled.
literally has 
him are all in the singular: 2:4, 8, 16, 18) was the same then as it is today: he was a charismatic individual who came in with special, personal, private revelation, special truths, special methods, all of which were 
responsibility. We have no more holy trump cards hidden up our sleeves that no one else can see. We can't pull out our cherished "the Lord told me" cards, or our "I just feel led to" cards, and end the debate. All we have is that Bible out there, that everyone else can see, study, learn, and meditate over just as surely as we. We have to agree with the Holy Spirit that it is what He said it was: sufficient (Deuteronomy 29:29; Psalm 119; 2 Timothy 3:15-17, etc. ad inf.), and we study it to know His mind (2 Timothy 2:7). We're on a level playing field; we have no mystical "gotcha" from God.
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