I got hold of this book after reading a review of it on the blog of my friend Phil ‘The Simple Pastor’. And as I am currently engaged in writing a paper on Reformed/Covenant Theology for the Newfrontiers Theology Forum it seemed like useful background reading. Phil was none too keen on it!
My own read is somewhat more sympathetic, albeit sharing some of Phil’s concerns. So, before making some comments on the book, I’ll pick up on one of Phil’s points. He makes the observation that,
The most miserable, dour, joyless Christians I’ve ever met have all been ‘reformed.’ It happened too often to simply be a personality thing, instead it seemed that it was a culture thing. The ‘joy’ was in how serious everything was. Getting a smile or a laugh from these guys was nothing short of a miracle but then they didn’t believe in those.
This may be true, but I’ve met some Anabaptists who are so earnest and holier-than-thou that they are – seriously – no fun at all. And there are plenty of Pentecostals out there who are so intense and literalistic and lacking in a sense of irony that there is no way I would want to spend half an hour in the pub with them. And my own childhood summers were blighted by legalistic Bretheren who ensured that no-one was allowed to use the swimming pool of the ‘Christian’ hotel on Sundays. I’m afraid there is no monopoly on Phariseeism in any particular church tradition, and all of us are vulnerable to it.
Joy of course takes various forms. Sometimes when out in the Dorset hills I will round a corner and have to shout out my delight at the view that is unfolding before me. But on other occasions the only appropriate response is one of amazed silence. By temperament, those in the Reformed tradition are probably more prone to amazed silence than shouts of delight, in a similar way that they are probably also generally more prone to roast rib of beef and Chateauneuf du Pape than burgers and coke.
I once heard John Piper describe his joy as ‘wintry’, and there is a lot to be said for this. As people convinced of the doctrine of total depravity, the Reformed see the full seriousness and horror of sin at work in the world. Yet because of their belief in irresistible grace they also know genuine joy. They are like the blues singer, who is cheerful, despite singing nothing but misery. This means that their sense of humor tends to be of the acerbic wit variety, and if you are not tuned into the wit all you hear is the acerbity.
But enough about all that. What about the book?
Interest in Reformed theology has surged in recent years. In large part this seems to be a reaction against ‘Emergent’ – the loose collective of writers and leaders who have been following various theological cul-de-sacs over such issues as the gathered church and God’s sovereignty. In the UK, this trend was probably most accelerated by the erstwhile poster boy of evangelicalism, Steve Chalke, developing some kooky ideas about the atonement. In Risking the Truth, twenty Reformed theologians and pastors (mostly American, a few British, one African) respond to questions about the various theological errors that threaten the church at the moment.
The contribution that Phil seemed to object to most was that of Geoffrey Thomas, a Welsh Baptist pastor. But to be honest, so much of what he had to say was somewhat off the wall that his derisive comments about charismatics rather washed over me. There is a deep irony in someone so passionate to uphold the sovereignty of God, yet so fearful of God sovereignly dispensing spiritual gifts.
Thomas apart, many of the other contributors are fascinating. Carl Trueman always interests me – his historical insights are worth checking out. There is some good self-criticism at times. For example, Michael Horton acknowledging, “Conservatives are often enthusiastic about the truth, but lazy about mission.” The chapter with Kim Riddlebarger arguing for an amillennial eschatology is excellent. The contributions by Gary Johnson and Ligon Duncan should be required reading for anyone slipping down the road of NT Wright’s New Perspective on Paul, or Douglas Wilson’s Federal Vision. Duncan, especially, is helpful, writing respectfully of both Wright and Wilson but clearly articulating where they diverge from Reformed theology, and the dangers of the trajectories their theologies take. The chapter featuring Robert Peterson talking about hell is both sobering and challenging. And Greg Beale’s thoughts on inerrancy are equally provocative.
In terms of the general negativity of the contributors towards the charismatic, the inconsistency of the cessationist view is illustrated by R. Scott Clark who dismisses “continuing revelation” but then describes how “God is speaking to His people” in a service. So, in a sense, he does believe in continuing revelation. Sure, there is some whacky ‘prophecy’ out there, but genuine prophecy is thoroughly biblical, and not something to be afraid of. To dismiss it because of those who abuse it is as silly as dismissing preaching because many preachers don’t have good exegesis. The antidote to abuse is not disuse but proper use.
Overall then, I would recommend this book to anyone interested not only in ‘heresies’ facing the church today, but in a broad sweep of Reformed commentary on a number of pastoral and theological issues. I would also recommend it to anyone who has got into the habit of labeling themselves ‘Reformed’ without perhaps understanding what that term denotes. Reading Risking the Truth might serve to convince such people that they really are Reformed, or, just as likely, that really they are not.
