A Seminarian's Perspective on the Logos Reformed Gold Package

Accordance and its Limitations
For the last three years I have been an Accordance (Bible Software) user. I use Accordance for all of my original language study and profit immensely from having such a powerful set of tools (most of which I have barely scratched the surface of) at my disposal. I also use it for reading commentaries alongside of my Scripture readings — and find these modules very easy to use together.

However, I also have some other things in Accordance that don’t work too well with the format. I have Calvin’s Institutes, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (2 Vol.), the writings of John Milton, St. Thomas’ Summa, and other miscellaneous works of theology. Accordance shows its strength both in its speed and when dealing with original language material, but it shows a massive area of weakness when it comes to handling or searching anything that isn’t Biblical material or commentaries. Simply put, in my opinion, Accordance just wasn’t made for reading most books. It's hard to search them, it's hard to navigate them, and it's hard to even open them to read them in the first place. I'm sure there is probably a way to bookmark my place in them, but I've never figured it out.

Logos Fills the Void

This is where Logos comes in. Logos is Bible software that’s been around for a long time, but with the release of the Reformed starter packages they have begun receiving some extra attention from Reformed bloggers like myself. I was recently given access to the Reformed Gold package by Logos with no conditions attached. That means that I don’t necessarily have to write anything nice if I don’t have anything nice to say. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t intend this to be an informercial. Instead, I want to offer some thoughts that may help you to decide if you should buy Logos — and especially the Logos Reformed Gold package.

Most of the students here in Seminary seem resigned to the fact that no matter how much they love paper books, or may bewilderingly associate electronic books with Gnosticism, they will probably need to get some kind of software to digitize their Bible study and reading. The question for most is if they need to commit to one particular format, and if so, which one? I won't give a firm answer to that question, but I hopefully have some helpful thoughts on the matter. After spending a couple years with Accordance and the last six months or so using Logos, I do want to mention the four advantages of Logos as I see them.

Four Strengths of Logos
First, Logos is the best for an all around library. I mentioned already that Accordance is a very weak format for reading anything that isn’t the Bible. Do not buy Accordance because you want a nice, portable version of Augustine’s Civitatem Dei that you can pick up, put down, and come back to later. The format (even in the portable iPad version) just does not work well for such books, nor does it have actual page numbers, making citation of books in Accordance, if not impossible, at least a huge pain in the neck.

This leads to my second point, which is that in contrast to Accordance, Logos gives you actual physical page numbers. This means that you don’t have to dig around for a new, funky 21st century citation style involving location numbers or anything like that. You just cite the page number of the particular edition you are reading in Logos. It’s all very nice. Also on that point, copying and pasting from Logos into a document you're working on automatically comes with the page citation in whatever format you set up (except for Pages, which evidently doesn’t like pasting citations). That’s very nice, and something that makes research papers that much less painful.

Third, searching within books in Logos is extraordinary. I have tried to do book searches in Accordance and have yet to figure out exactly how it works. As I’ve mentioned, the format just isn’t friendly to that kind of study. Maybe there are ways to do it in Accordance that I have yet to discover, but at this point I don’t do it. In contrast, once Logos has had a chance to compile its search library (which can admittedly take some time after each update, depending on the size of your library), it is very easy to search for scripture citations or references within all of your books and commentaries. Coupling this with the ability to group your books into “Collections” which you organize according to your own tastes, those with larger libraries can choose to only search for a particular reference in their Systematic Theology books or in their Biblical Theology books or in their Commentaries, making your searches as focused as you want. Learning to do collections isn’t easy, and involves digging around through web forums over at Logos, but once you’ve done it you will be glad you did.

Fourth, Logos has a really well-made iOS app. One of my classes for the Fall at RTS has us reading Andreas Kostenberger’s book A Theology of John’s Gospel and Letters. I thought about buying a used physical copy from Amazon but instead bought it for Logos at full price. Why did I do this? Well, frankly it’s a large book. It is a book I will be reading all semester long. I don’t like lugging around big books. I look forward to being able to go to school and conceivably sit down and just open my iPad Mini to get a bit of my school reading done. No pressure, just wherever I find myself to sit down and get in some reading. The iOS Logos app is the reason this is possible, and I like it a lot. Unlike the desktop version, which has a long startup time (hint: just never close it and leave it running in the background and then you won’t notice), the iOS version on my iPad Mini is snappy, fast, and involves almost no waiting. You can read your books without downloading them, just reading them in the cloud over Wi-Fi or you can download them to read later when you’re out in the boonies. However you use it, the iOS app is very good, minimally glitchy, and makes for a great reading experience. The desktop app is great for searching and studying, but the iOS app means that you almost feel you can sit down and enjoy the book as a book, not just dig through it for quotes or information.

The weakness of Logos is related to its strengths. It's great at searching what can be an incredibly large library of material, but that takes computing power and time. As such Logos, when it first starts up, can take several minutes if it hasn't been updated recently. Also, the original language modules in Logos, from my perspective, have a steeper learning curve than they do on Accordance. My final complaint, once again, relates to the size of the library in that looking for books is not intuitive. You have to know the name of the author to search for it, or you have to have used it recently and have your library set to show most recently used first. These aren't deal-breakers by any means, but they do mean that you will have to be purposeful in how you use the software.

What Kind of User Are You?
Perhaps a seminary student may have a friendly benefactor who wants to bless them with some Bible software and gives them a choice. If someone finds themselves in such a situation, which should they pick? Well my answer is that it depends on what they’re going to do and where their interests are. If you are into history and commentaries or systematics but aren’t much of a language guy, I actually think Logos is the best pick. But if you’re into the languages exclusively and don’t see yourself building much of a digital library I still might recommend Accordance (with a few language-specific modules) over Logos.

How I Balance Accordance/Logos

I will actually mention how I use my own Logos/Accordance set up, which is a bit of a hybrid. I use Accordance for my Bible study and language study. It’s fast and easy to use without a lot of bells and whistles (unless you want them). But I absolutely use Logos alongside of Accordance. The two are not enemies on my computer. I play to each of their strengths in the way that I use them. I keep a window open with my Bible study stuff from Accordance — and I keep another window open where I look through the many commentaries and systematic theologies that come with the Reformed Gold package. I see them as complementary.

Speaking specifically of The Reformed Gold package, it comes with so many books that it can almost be overwhelming. It comes with some really fantastic things such as Bavinck’s Reformed Dogmatics, the Lewis Ford Battles translation of Calvin’s Institutes, as well as the complete works of John Owen, Louis Berkhof, John Bunyan, B.B. Warfield, and Richard Sibbes. It also comes with some extraneous stuff that I’ve never heard of but that I plan to explore when I find the time. Some of the material is a bit dated. For example, Kittels was a very impressive resource for a long time, but with the work of James Barr (see his book The Semantics of Biblical Language), it is now evident to modern students of Greek of the New Testament that the methodology employed in Kittel’s 10 volume Theological Dictionary of the New Testament is fundamentally flawed. It’s a valuable resource and still has value, for sure, but it’s also hardly cutting edge any longer.

Where to Start?
I can’t tell somebody what would be best for them, but I can hopefully at least give somebody an outline as to how to approach things. If someone is interested in the Reformed Gold package (or any of the packages for that matter), I would begin by going to Logos’ website and installing the free base app on their computer. Grab some of the free modules from their web page and start there. See if you like the program and how it runs. Try out the search functions for yourself. Fiddle around with the iOS app, which I do think will impress most who try it out. If you have the money and are looking to have a nice searchable library that you can take anywhere with you, Logos is a really strong choice that deserves serious consideration.

[Update (8/27/14)]: I would highly recommend reading the comments below by R. Mansfield, who is an employee of Accordance. He has corrected me on many of my statements regarding what Accordance can and cannot do. We would do well to remind readers that this perspective offered above is of an average user who has not taken any classes on either platform. My perspective here reflects my own "non-expert" experience with both, and so should be read in light of that.

Book Review: The Last Days of Jesus by Taylor and Köstenberger

Andreas Köstenberger and Justin Taylor haven’t broken the world of scholarship wide open with The Final Days of Jesus (and that's a good thing!). They haven’t done anything controversial or scandalous with this book. They haven’t chosen to repeat the liberal skeptical tropes that we’re used to seeing from people like Bart Ehrman, and as such we’re unlikely to see Taylor and Köstenberger on the evening news or being interviewed on Nightline (is that show still on?). Instead, this book The Final Days of Jesus presents a helpful introductory timeline of the last week of Jesus’ life straight from the biblical record.

The book is organized by days of the week, beginning with Sunday, March 29th, A.D. 33 and going until Sunday, April 5th, A.D. 33. Each chapter contains the biblical material of what occurred on each day of the week leading to Christ’s death along with helpful commentary by Dr. Köstenberger. Just as an example of how the chapters are laid out, Friday, April 3rd A.D. begins with a section on the betrayal and arrest of Jesus. It is followed by all of the biblical accounts of this event from Matthew 26:47-56, Mark 14:43-52, Luke 22:47-53, and John 18:2-12. This is followed by a section of commentary on these events from Köstenberger and a map of the area of Gethsemane and showing the path that was probably taken from Gethsemane to the palace of the high priest. Next in the chapter comes the Jewish trial of Jesus with its relevant Scripture passage from John (since he’s the only one who records that event) just as the previous section was laid out and so on. In this sense, the book is interested in bringing out details, discussing harmonization issues, and keeping things as narratively driven as possible.

All of this does seem somewhat academic, I’ll confess. What comes out of the reading, however, is a wonderful opportunity for the reader to really drink up what the Scriptures say, laid out in a helpful, chronologically structured book. It isn’t long. It isn’t hard reading. It also isn’t excessively defensive in the apologetic sense (though harmonizations between accounts are dealt with, when necessary, in a secondary way), which I think your average reader will appreciate. They approach the biblical record acknowledging slight differences in the way the authors record the events. But they encourage readers to adopt “a charitable rather than critical reading,” which they say “demonstrates that the evangelists are each accurately referring to the same thing rather than contradicting one another.” This is a refreshing approach compared to the mainstream NT scholarship that dominates in the academy today.

Although I had this review written last week, I purposely decided to keep from publishing my review of it until after the Easter weekend. I’m a Presbyterian and we’re famously obnoxious for our rebellion against the church calendar (as well as publicly beating our breasts at times: "Thank God I am not like these other men who observe the church calendar!"). But my reason for waiting until after Easter was not to grate on the nerves of fellow brothers and sisters in Christ who would expect this sort of thing to go online before Easter. Rather, I did it because this book isn’t just important to read at Easter. The death and resurrection of Jesus is not merely something to think about during the month of April. These events are central to the whole of redemptive history. They are the glue the holds the covenants of God and His promises of New Creation throughout the Old Testament prophets together. As such, they deserve our attention throughout the year. My hope is that Christians will be motivated by this book to not merely “get in the Easter spirit” during one particular season of the year, but that every Sunday would be an occasion for us to meditate and think upon the death burial and resurrection of Christ. A book like this is just the tool to help us do that. I commend this book to be used by Christians all year long.

[This book was provided by Crossway to me for review purposes.]

Book Review: How to Stay Christian in Seminary by David Mathis and Jonathan Parnell

There are two kinds of seminarians: those of us who think they don’t need to hear what How to Stay Christian in Seminary has to say, and those who know they do. Many of us are part of that first group. We like the academic stuff, right? Give us a warm old Puritan before a modern Christian living book filled from beginning to end with stories and illustrations any day. We know how to talk about God’s grace. We know that we're sinners and can explain the ins and outs of the noetic effects of sin. Well if we know these things already, why should we read a book with a name like How to Stay Christian in Seminary? Isn't a book like this for somebody who just can't cut it? The answer is that, for the most part, as seminarians our biggest problem is not an issue of knowing.

As much benefit as seminary brings, it can also be dangerous for our souls. It’s true. If you’ve been at any seminary for any amount of time, perhaps you’ve seen temptations in your own lives unique to this particular season. We can be tempted to partition our lives into academic and spiritual compartments. We can also experience the temptation to "stuff your head with more than your heart can digest." We can even lose the vision of why we came here to seminary in the first place; the calling that brought us here to begin with. We may be tempted to neglect our families and simply bury our face in the books. "I'll see them when the semester is over," we may say. Hopefully these do not strike any of us as minor temptations.

The fact is, our professors try very hard to make these classes connect with our hearts and not only with our minds. They meet with us for prayer and to talk about spiritual challenges in our lives. Our participation in local churches encourages us to pursue intimacy with God through His Word and prayer. It also pushes us to be a part of the church and to serve her. Even with all of these positive influences, the temptations are still real, and often we need somebody who has been there before to gently prod, remind, and to warn us.

There are things which ought to penetrate the heart and practice of the average seminarian. This book is intended to help you, to identify potential problem areas, and to enable you to develop strategies and disciplines that can make seminary a time of growth instead of diminution. Yes, it’s a Christian Living book. No, it is not the hardest thing you’ve ever read. No, reading it won't necessarily give you the bragging rights you so deeply yearn for. But please understand—this book is written for you. None of us are too good to read this book.

How to Stay Christian in Seminary is currently on sale for $1.99 on the Kindle.

Book Review: The Psalter Reclaimed by Gordon Wenham

Gordon Wenham's book The Psalter Reclaimed: Praying and Praising with the Psalms is a collection of Wenham's writings from various sources, all collected into one convenient Psalm-centered volume. I chose to read this book because I need a new and fresh familiarity with the Psalms. I don't know them as well as I ought to, and much of the Psalter is strange to me. It is difficult to always know how to interpret or apply what we read in the Psalms to the readers, prayers, or worshippers who are utilizing them today.

In the first chapter, Wenham speaks of the importance of the Psalms. He talks of their historic pedigree and their importance throughout the history of the church. In the remainder of the chapter he discusses recent scholarship regarding the relationship between speech-act theory and the corporately spoken nature of the Psalms. Wenham essentially argues that there are important "similarities between taking an oath, making a vow, confessing faith, and praying the psalms." Singing the Psalms, says Wenham, actively committ the singer "to following the God-approved life" (35). It is not merely the repetition of an external series of words or merely an act of worship.

In Chapter two, Wenham argues that "we ought to pray the psalms regularly as Jesus and the apostles did, and as the Christian church did as well for about eighteen centuries" (40) Don't panic - he is not arguing for an exclusive psalmnody position. But he does at least note that the psalms have fallen into being used less than they were before the introduction of hymns in the 18th century and that this trend should be reversed. His argument is that the Psalms instruct the church in how to praise God and how to lament in times of trial and pain. They also help us in our repentance by modeling what true penitence looks and sounds like. Ultimately, the Psalms point to the Messiah. The chapter points out that the Psalms are all useful. "We should use all of the psalms, not just the cheerful or sentimental ones that take our fancy" (55).

In Chapter three and four Wenham turns his attention to tracing the modern developments in reading the Psalms canonically as well as Messianically. He concludes that (1) we should read the Psalms in the canonical context of the whole Psalter. (2) We should read the Psalms in the context of the Hebrew Bible. (3) We should read the Psalms in the context of the "Christian canon of the Old and New Testaments" (77). As for chapter four, he defends the idea that the psalms can (and often should) be read with a messianic expectation, and he argues effectively that the editors of the Psalms certainly had that expectation. Some very interesting hermeneutical discussion occupies this chapter.

In chapter five, Wenham explores the subject of the relationship between the law (decalogue) and the Psalms. The Psalmist repeatedly rejoices in the law of God (Ps. 119). "To rejoice in God's judgment on sin is to turn the spotlight on one's own life and behavior: will I pass muster with God?" Wenham's chapter brings out many insights as to what is really involved when a worshipper delights in the justice and holiness of God, which are revealed in God's Law.

Most readers, I suspect, will be most interested in Wenham's discussion of the impreccatory Psalms, which is what the sixth chapter covers. He gives an overview of various approaches to these Psalms - from Calvin to Kidner - but then offers Erich Zenger as offering the most helpful approach to understanding these Psalms. Zenger essentially approaches the Psalms by saying that Christians are functionally marcionite if they reject the impreccatory psalms as "sub-Christian" or as outdated Old Testament literature. According to Zenger, the impreccatory psalms serve the important purpose of giving voice to the very real human need for divine justice. "These psalms awaken our consciences to the anguish of those who suffer. They serve to waken us from the dreadful passivity that has overtaken the comfortable churches of the Western world. They make us long for the coming of the kingdom of power and justice" (135). He concludes this important chapter by reminding readers that although Western Christendom may not experience martyrdoms and injustice (and hence are offended by something like Psalm 109), much of the church around the world does experience such horrors and injustices as the Psalmists when they wrote the Psalms, and it is on behalf of such suffering brothers and sisters that we can appropriately pray the impreccatory psalms.

[As a side note, because of reading the sixth chapter, I ordered a copy of Erich Zenger's book A God of Vengeance?. I have no idea if it's a good book, but what exposure Wenham gives us in this chapter makes me very interested to see the rest of what Zenger does in that particular book.]

Chapter seven is a straightforward exploration of the concept of God's "steadfast love" as found in Psalm 103. Finally, the eighth chapter comes from an unpublished lecture of Wenham's where he discusses the subject of "the nations" in the Psalms, moving canonically from Psalm 1 through 150. Yes, the nations set themselves against God for much of the Psalms, but they also end on a note of hopeful expectation that the nations may yet come in to God's fold.

The greatest strength of this volume is that it immerses its readers in the world of the Psalms. You come away from this reading with the impression that the church today has undoubtedly neglected a rich source of material for worship and for her edification. The volume does have a weakness, however, and that is its disconnected nature. Because each chapter has its origins in separate projects that were collected together, there is some disjointedness. The last chapter in particular, feels tacked on and I certainly found it difficult to know why it was there in terms of the larger whole of the book.

All in all, this volume is for those who, like me, have neglected the Psalms and who have not thought deeply about the role that the Psalms are to play in the life of the church. Readers will undoubtedly be edified and benefit much from Wenham's work.

[I was given a free copy of the book in order to review it. The publisher did not require a favorable review from me.]

Pulling the Paperwhite Out From Under the Bus

Back in September of 2012 I said some mean things about the Kindle Paperwhite. Actually, I said some nice things, too. I suppose this post is my way of taking back all the mean things I said.

RIP Old Friend
(2009-2013)

About a month ago, I was returning from The Gospel Coalition when I went to use my 4 year old Kindle 2 and found that the screen had totally freaked out. A simple call to Amazon's troubleshooters confirmed that it was dead in the water. My four year old friend had been with me through the thick and thin. Altogether I'd probably read 100 or more books on it and used its text-to-speech feature for long road trips more times than I could count. If it hadn't died, I never would have upgraded. I initially tried to find a Kindle 2 that still had the text-to-speech feature, but I couldn't find one for sale in my area on Craigslist and Amazon doesn't have a used Kindle section on their website.

When I contacted Amazon initially to troubleshoot, they did tell me that if I wanted to, I could send my old one in and they would sell me a refurbished Paperwhite wi-fi for $40 below the new price. This meant that I could replace my old friend for $80. And so, despite the mean things I said about the Kindle Paperwhite, and despite the fact that Amazon ripped my favorite feature (text-to-speech) out of their e-reader, I ordered it.

Here's the thing: I love it. And what's more, even if it had
text-to-speech it would no longer be my favorite feature of the device. There are six major things that stand out about the Paperwhite, making it heads and shoulders above my old Kindle 2:

1) The higher resolution screen is a beauty to look at. No discernible pixels in the text means that the reading experience is that much better.

2) Faster page turning. The processor in this new one is better, and that means more responsive page turning. It's a small thing, but when you turn the page on your device thousands of times, it makes you realize just how sluggish your old Kindle 2 actually was.

3) Adjustable fonts and margins. It may seem like a small thing, but it's one more way to make the experience all your own. Also, reading my ESV Study Bible on the Paperwhite is nicer and easier when you make the line of text as narrow as possible.

4) The touch screen is "okay." I'm not thrilled about it, but it is very useful for highlighting (it's very responsive and extremely easy to do) and for picking a single word to see the definition of. You could already do both of these things with the little directional clicker, but it's 10x better using the touch screen to do it now. [My one complaint about the touch screen: in the table of contents for the ESV Study Bible, if you click on the name of the book you want to read, it will think you're clicking the book above it. You have to compensate for that bizarre little fact when you click on a book of the bible to read it. I'm guessing this happens with a lot of different tables of contents in other books too.]

Fits in my hand

5) The smaller size. It's smaller! No keyboard! It's overall design is fantastic, and that leather case that Amazon sells might cost $40, sure, but I can't imagine it ever getting busted in a fall while it's snug and secure inside of that beautiful case. It also has that fancy cover that puts the device to sleep when it closes and wakes it up when it opens, ala the iPad Smartcover.

6) The Backlight. Okay, Amazon is careful to say this is not a traditional backlight. Whereas an ordinary LCD projects light directly out towards the user's face, this is an indirect sort of lighting. It has the effect of making the pages look plain white in daylight and pleasantly readable in the dark. I had forgotten how many times I've stopped reading my Kindle 2 because it had just gotten too dark and I didn't want to turn the lights in my room on.

Yes, the text-to-speech is gone. No, I still cannot think of a good reason for them to take this feature away. But I have two thoughts in this regard:

a) I wasn't using the text-to-speech as much as I used to. Truthfully I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually employed it.

b) As a substitute, you can upload your non-DRM ebooks to Zamzar and they will convert them into MP3s. This way you can still make audiobooks out of them and listen on your iPod. Since I use text-to-speech mostly on road trips, I just plan ahead a bit now and make sure and have Zamzar make the audiobook that I want to listen to while I'm driving. And lets face it, you were having trouble running on the treadmill with that bulky Kindle 2 anyway, weren't you?

Just tonight I was sitting on my darkened patio, reading Psalm 98, and thanking God that I had this pleasant reading device that allowed me to sit in the dark, read God's Word, and stare out at the starry sky without turning on the light and drawing all the bugs around me. It was then that I decided to write this post and publicly apologize to the Paperwhite. I'm sorry, baby. I said those mean things because I didn't really know you.

Book Review: Silence by Shusaku Endo

My suspicion is that the majority of Christians in the west, much like myself, have never heard about the earliest Catholic missions to Japan in the 17th Century. The Jesuits came to Japan in 1549, and while I should not (and cannot) here give a history of Christianity in Japan, it is worth admitting that the 1630s and 40s were a time of unbearable persecution. The tortures exacted on the Christians of Japan during this time are horrifying to consider.

Shusaku Endo’s book Silence, a fictionalized account of true events, was written in the 1960s by a Roman Catholic.  I speak of this book as neither a Catholic, nor as someone with any special or unique knowledge of the history of Christianity in Japan. One of Endo’s enduring themes is the incompatibility of Christianity (or any other religion) with the Japanese culture. One of Endo’s repeating themes in this book is that Japan is a “swamp” which takes, changes, and transforms ideologies until they no longer resemble their former selves. From reading the translator’s preface, one can see that there are autobiographical aspects to this argument. Endo sees a struggle within his own heart away from his Catholicism, and in one interview said that in spite of his own religious upbringing, “there was always that feeling in my heart that it was something borrowed, and I began to wonder what my real self was like. This I think is the ‘mud swamp’ Japanese in me.” So for Endo, Christianity can never really take root in Japan unless it changes, transforms, or adapts. Of course, this is a popular modern theme, this idea that Christianity will wither and die if it does not change with the times. It seems harder to believe here in the West where most people still preserve some nominally religious veneer. It’s a bit more persuasive when one considers that less than 1% of people in Japan are Christian. I do not agree with Endo that Christianity must change in order to be received, but that discussion is beyond the scope of this book review. So while I am not sympathetic with Endo’s larger project, I found myself utterly captivated by Silence. Reading this book was a remarkable experience for me. I will try to make the case here that Christians need to be made more aware of this book. It belongs on our bookshelves next to Walker Percy’s The Moviegoer and the writings of Flannery O’Connor in the sense that it asks the hard questions, pushes the reader in painful ways, and does not offer preachy or simple answers.

[I warn that from here on out my review contains spoilers. If you want to read the book, I recommend that you get it and read it right away, but do stop reading this review!] The novel takes place in the 1630s after a Jesuit priest in Japan named Ferreira is reported to have apostatized from the faith. Finding this impossible to believe, the Priests Rodrigues and Garpe make the dangerous journey from Portugal to Japan in order to live as missionaries among the Japanese and also to find out what the truth is of Ferreira’s fate. Half of the book is the written journal of Rodrigues, while the other half of the book is either written in a third person format, or contains the letters of others associated with the narrative. Rodriguez and Garpe are eventually captured by the authorities and witness horrific circumstances as they watch the Japanese Christians laying down their lives for the faith. There is no glory in these martyrdoms, as Rodriguez had always imagined. Rather, there is a brutality and cruelty which he had never imagined. Prior to the arrival of Rodriguez, the Japanese forced the priests to renounce the faith and tortured them until they did so, with none of them recanting. However, we soon discover that the Japanese chose a different method altogether, beginning with Ferreira. They use this same technique to great effect on Rodriguez, as well. Rather than torturing the priests, they torture the Christians, telling Rodriguez that all he must do is renounce the faith in order to end their sufferings.

Some of the greatest struggle in the book takes place as Rodriguez recounts his own psychological struggles. There are hard questions. It is one thing to suffer for your own faith – to endure pain and suffering for the sake of one’s love for Christ. But is it self-centered to refuse to recant in order to end another’s suffering? At one climactic moment in the book, Rodriguez can hear the moaning of the Christians as they hang in the pit, their cries going up and reaching his ears. These Christians have all recanted, but they will not be released until Rodriguez tramples the image of Christ. Suddenly, the image of Christ speaks: “Trample! Trample! I more than anyone know of the pain in your foot. Trample! It was to be trampled on by men that I was born into this world. It was to share men’s pain that I carried my cross.” Rodriguez obeys, and the Christians are released.

The title of the book, Silence refers to Rodriguez’ constant lament that God is silent as his people suffer. “Why is God continually silent while those groaning voices go on?” At one point Rodriguez is praying and he says, “'Lord, I resented your silence.” He receives a reply: “I was not silent. I suffered beside you.” The book is Job-like in its unwillingness to offer straight answers.

And so the novel forces us to ask if what Rodriguez did is right or wrong. The book implies that he never really gives up believing, but that he spends the remainder of his days as a secret Christian of sorts, outwardly obeying the magistrate. As long as the priests stay away and Rodriguez continues as he is, the authorities promised to leave the Christians alone.

Later in the book, Inoue speaks to Rodriguez and he says, “I’ve told you. This country of Japan is not suited to the teaching of Christianity. Christianity simply cannot put down roots here…you were not defeated by me…You were defeated by this swamp of Japan.”

Another character in the novel who matters a great deal is the weakling Kichijiro, who is a pathetic figure, folding under persecution every time, terrified of the authorities, turning in Father Rodriguez at one point, but always returning, always repenting. At one point Rodriguez is thinking of Kichijiro and he wonders to himself: “How many of our Christians, if only they had been born in another age from this persecution would never have been confronted with the problem of apostasy or martyrdom but would have lived blessed lives of faith until the very hour of death.” What stinging words! To Christians who live in the West, free of persecution, free of tortures and pain it is so easy for us to judge one such as Kichijiro, and yet constantly throughout the novel we are confronted repeatedly by his tragic and pathetic figure. I think that we as readers would be wise to see ourselves in Kichijiro.

There is so much to be said. In spite of the fact that there is a some speculation on all sides of the question, I do not know if Father Rodriguez ever really believed. Endo is more concerned with the experience, struggle, and choices made by Rodriguez than delving into his own eternal election (I use this for the lack of a better word). The fact is, we all experience our lives as a linear succession, just as Rodriguez, and so in a real sense he leaves us as epistemologically unsure of Rodriguez’ eternal fate as we each can be of our own. In the face of persecution, what sort of eternal assurance can a person have who has folded under the pressures of persecution, and especially the kind that Rodriguez faced? Is there a place with Christ for those who outwardly apostatize themselves? Endo certainly appears to believe so.

Endo has complained in the past that part of the reason this book was so controversial in Japan upon its release was that people read the book as theology and not as literature. I’ll resist the urge to follow Endo’s critics into the murky theological waters that one could surely enter after reading this book. Endo’s novel is a masterpiece, plain and simple. Christians need to meditate upon the nature of suffering, the pains of martyrdom, and the difficult questions that confront us in this novel. I have lamented before that Protestant writers seem to be incapable of facing painful and hard existential questions like those in this book without resorting to preachy narrative devices. Silence is the exemplification of how to do a novel tackling the subject of faith and suffering head-on while avoiding the dreadfully tacky literary pitfalls we see all around us.

Book Review: Inerrancy and the Gospels by Vern Poythress

Way back in June we reviewed Vern Poythress’ book Inerrancy and Worldview. At the time I appreciated what a focused apologetic tool the book turned out to be. Poythress’ newest book, Inerrancy and the Gospels is meant to offer, as the subtitle of the book suggests, “A God-Centered Approach to the Challenges of Harmonization.” From the beginning you know that Poythress is not interested in arguing for an inerrant Gospel harmonization by beginning with the unbeliever’s worldview.

When the book begins, Poythress spends a chapter basically laying his cards on the proverbial table. He believes in the inspiration and authority of the Bible. He believes it is possible to answer Bible difficulties (and they do, of course, exist). He recognizes, from the beginning, that the biggest challenge in answering Bible difficulties is not the Scriptures themselves, but the answerer himself. “My primary challenge in accomplishing this task is myself. I am a finite, fallible human being. I am also affected by remaining sin. And sin affects biblical interpretation…So you must understand that this book represents part of a path toward a future fullness of knowledge…” (15). Poythress does not intend to undertake the project of harmonization as a disinterested, neutral, or impartial witness.

Early in the book, Poythress spends a chapter discussing the differences between Matthew’s (8:5-13) and Luke’s (7:1-10) account of the Centurion’s Servant as a way of highlighting the reality of challenges to harmonization. He then surveys the various solutions to the “problem” which have been presented, reminding the reader that it is only necessary, when answering skeptics, to present a possible, logically non-contradictory solution, not necessarily the definitive solution to each harmonization challenge.

Poythress does not only approach harmonization differences defensively. He points out the positive reasons for non-contradictory differences between the Gospel accounts.

The differences between the Gospels are an integral and significant part of the Gospels. The differences are there for a purpose: they help us. All the Gospels are talking about events that actually happened; they are not “making it up.” But they are telling about the events in ways that help us to grasp their significance and their theological implications. We do not need to feel as if we have to “roll back” the significance and the implications in order to get to “bare” events (32).

We were never meant to read the Gospels in a theologically stripped down sort of a way that allows us to inject our own theological (or bare historical) interpretation into the events. Poythress is reminding us that there is theological significance in each of the distinct accounts of the life of Christ, and each individual Gospel reflects that reality—hence the differences in the accounts.

Each of the Gospel writers has their own purpose and goals in writing, and those variations which exist among them can be accounted for in terms of those purposes. He demonstrates quite helpfully that differences or “compression” of the genealogies in the beginning of the Gospels do, in fact, reflect each author’s own theological goals in their writing (Ch. 10).

The middle portion of the book (Ch. 10-15) is especially concerned to discuss the spiritual issues (pride, autonomy, etc.) related to harmonization. I couldn’t shake the thought that these chapters might have fit in better in Inerrancy and Worldview. It was a surprising section in the book, and while it is not what I expected, I could understand that its omission would have left the book spiritually lopsided, giving credence to the illusion that spiritual matters are irrelevant to this discussion.

Poythress does eventually get into the material which I thought would compose most of the book when I first started reading Inerrancy and the Gospels— namely discussion of the practical ins and outs of harmonization. Poythress argues that the writers of Scripture do not use a “Mental picture” method of writing such as we normally use or expect in our own reading. This affects several areas where interpreters normally see problems. As an example, Poythress argues that it is not necessary to see Christ as cleansing the temple twice, simply because John includes the cleansing at the beginning (2:13-22) of his book and the synoptics include it at the end (Matt. 21:12-17; Mark 11:15-19; Luke 19:45-46). It is certainly a possible solution, and Poythress doesn’t see that solution as problematic (136). However, when one remembers that John is not recording events using the modern “mental picture” method of recording history, it might just as well be that John includes his recounting of the temple at the beginning for theologically significant reasons, and vice versa for the synoptics. Poythress argues that “we do not know for sure whether there was only one cleansing of the temple or two” (137). He does say, however, that we know everything that the Gospel writers wanted their readers to know: there was a temple cleansing, Jesus had a special zeal for God’s house, and Matthew and Mark were especially concerned to highlight the misuse of the temple that had taken place. In the end, the temple cleansing is simply a test case for Poythress in highlighting the fact that Gospel harmonization may include an understanding that the authors utilize “chronological flexibility” according to their motives, methods, and message. He makes similar points in discussing the rejection of Jesus at Nazareth, the cursing of the fig tree, and the commissioning of the twelve.

He then turns his attention, finally, to what (especially early in my life when apologetics was a big emphasis for me) was my biggest sticking point in appreciating inerrancy as much as I could: variance in speech between the Gospel accounts. Poythress begins his test case by looking at the words of Christ following the stilling of the storm, comparing Matt. 8:26, Mark 4:40, and Luke 8:25. In his examination of these passage, he notes there is some variance. One possibility of harmonization is to conclude that there were three different stillings of the storm, which Poythress does not give much credence to. Another possibility, which Poythress considers is that Christ actually said all three things which are in each Gospel successively and each Gospel writer only included a portion of what Jesus said. This may seem like an unusual possibility, but Poythress makes the case that this is not as weird as you might initially think (159).

Poythress also suggests another possibility.

Jesus is God. So Jesus’ speeches are divine speech. The four Gospel writers are human beings, but they were inspired by the Holy Spirit so that what they wrote is also divine speech. Whenever the Gospel writers report things from Jesus’ speeches, we are seeing God’s report of what God himself said (163).

Poythress carefully argues that “God is free to use wording that brings out implications of his earlier words” (173). He uses a similar principle to understand New Testament authors’ free use of quoting Old Testament passages. Poythress points out that when modern preachers express the meaning of a passage by combining or rewording passages, nobody accuses them of misusing the Bible. This is because of two factors “(1) the modern use does not claim to be an exact, verbatim quote, and (2) it derives meaning from the original rather than distorting the original meaning into something else” (174). These principles can equally be applied to the NT authors, as well.

Overall, I should have known not to come into Inerrancy and the Gospels expecting a handbook of bible difficulties. Wrong expectations tend to be my undoing, and I seem to always have them whenever I read Poythress’ works. I personally would have preferred a truncation of the first half of the book and an expansion of the second half. That being said, this is just a preference. All in all, this is a very important book, and one which all students of the New Testament should read. I really wish I had read this book when I was a new Christian, because many years of struggle over the text against apologetic doubts would have been quelled by having a healthier understanding of what inerrancy does and does not mean for the text. I hope many Christians will avail themselves of Poythress’ book. It is my favorite so far in his “Inerrancy” series, and I look forward to more forthcoming additions to the series.

[I received a free copy of this book on condition that I review it. I am not required by the publisher to give a positive review.]

You can find the book in print by visiting Westminster books.
You can also find a free PDF of the book by visiting Poythress and Frame's web page.

A Christian Reaction to the Monism of Cloud Atlas

[I offer the warning that this may be spoiler-ish.]

Having just seen Cloud Atlas, I was struck by several themes in the film and wanted to write about them. I must offer a preliminary caveat that I have not read the book which the film is based on. I also want to mention that I am not some sort of self-styled expert on this film and will not pretend to be. Having said that, this film is very good. The reaction by the people in the theatre when I went was quite positive, and everyone immediately started speculating as to the film’s meaning as they were walking down the aisles to exit the theatre. Films that cause us to think about ourselves, about death, about the universe, about fate, about meaning, and about our connection to our fellow human beings seem quite rare, and so when they do happen to come around, our ears should perk up. So having left Cloud Atlas, what did we hear?

For starters, the movie strikes me as the epitome of post-modern filmmaking and worldview. I have heard similar evaluations of the novel by David Mitchell. Frequent reference is made in the movie to “your truth,” “true truth,” “your version of the truth,” etc. In fact, the movie itself is a kaleidoscope of six different stories, all knit together into a single compelling narrative with the story cutting from one to the next. It becomes clear that each of these stories are connected to the others by way of storytelling/documentary narrative devices.

Some see this movie as promoting reincarnation, picturing each character as dying and being reincarnated into the other storylines that follow it chronologically. The reincarnation idea is too overt or obvious, however. The movie is mostly about storytelling, and that is why it concludes with Tom Hanks’ future man living on another planet telling his children and grand children these fantastical tales of this world he once knew like it was a memory. His final storytelling character (he plays six different characters) gives the story narrative unity. Everything that we see in the story is filtered through his narrative (a story within a story), though we weren’t aware of it until the last scene of the movie.

In other words, Cloud Atlas is meant to give us fallible retellings of every event we are seeing. And yet I doubt the filmmakers would say that what we are seeing on the screen is not true. Rather, the movie reflects a fundamental commitment to the idea that all truth is mediated and is therefore interpreted. Van Til would rejoice at this premise. However, since no truth-teller is infallible (Christians can think of one, of course), we are bound to get various versions of the same story.

The reincarnation theme is not, I think, a reflection of an overt belief in literal reincarnation. Rather, it is a reflection of the larger commitments of the filmmakers – namely materialism, determinism, and monism. These three systems are all mutually interlocking and interdependent. The Wachowskis, who wrote the story, are committed Nietzscheans who do not believe in any traditional definition of God. Further, the materialistic universe is fatalistically determined because of the absence of variables in the universe. For the filmmakers, everything is predetermined based on impersonal laws of physical causation. Ultimately, as well, everything in such a universe is one. There is no differentiating one type of matter from another, and so one is left with a universe that is all unity and no diversity.

The reincarnation theme is actually not a reincarnation theme, ultimately. Rather, it is a reflection of a monistic universe where all is one. This can sound abstract, but it preaches well and it is a thematically fulfilling sentiment in the context of the movie. Those who see the movie will notice that it opens and closes with the same shot of the stars. As I was leaving the theatre one woman hit the nail on the head (I admit it isn’t a difficult theme to spot in this movie) when she turned to her companion and said, “So really the movie is saying that we’re all connected to each other.” This is a rhetorically powerful theme, which has great force in our own day and age. In a sense it demands a response from those dissenting from the filmmakers’ larger project.

From the monistic perspective, all is neither good or bad, it simply is – matter in motion evolving and moving from one state of being to another. However, that isn’t even right, because in the end, even the “beingness” in one state cannot, given monism, be differentiated from the “beingness” of matter in another state. Monism isn’t self-defeating. It is self-absorbing. It becomes meaningless because the questions just soak into matter like a sponge absorbing water. Is there pain right now? Just wait – it will pass and be forgotten. Is there delight or joy right now? It’s only a matter of time before it becomes less than a memory.

The Christian perspective on this reincarnation theme is to assert on the basis of received revelation that God has spoken to us, and what he has told us is that he creates each of us at a point in time and that we did not exist before that, though he did. Our lives are linear, moving from conception to birth to death to the eternal state. In this film, the implicit lesson for the here and now is that we must treat one another with love, respect, and care because we are all connected. Early on in the movie, Ewing sees a slave being whipped. The slave looks up and stares at Ewing as if he knew him even though they had never met before. The lesson (if you want to impute such intention to the filmmakers) is that this slave, Mr. Ewing, is you. Mr. Ewing ought to become an abolitionist because he and the slave are one – they are more than connected – they are one another, just like all of us.

From a Christian perspective, we agree. Of course, this agreement comes with some caveats. We are one with one another by way of our relationship to the first man – Adam. We are not to be identified with one another directly, however, though our lives are interconnected and do have an impact one another and on future generations which follow. Our motive for treating one another rightly is related to the common divine image that we all share. The writers of scripture refer to the image of God as motive for treating others as they ought to be treated (James 3:9). This leaves open the possibility of our being kind to one another without compromising our own personal identity and while avoiding the many contraditctory problems of monism.

In the end, Cloud Atlas is a beautiful, compelling, exciting movie that is bound to leave theatregoers profoundly confused. There are other issues to discuss in the movie (and in terms of content, I definitely recommend viewers check out the content advisory at the film's IMDB parental content page), but I wanted to touch on the most core metaphysical issues in this film. The movie was gripping, beautifully shot, absolutely fascinating from beginning to end (even with a near 3-hour running time!), and well-acted. My guess is there will be dissertations and books written about his film in the years to come, (but hopefully there won’t be any misguided books titled The Gospel According to Cloud Atlas). It is my hope that Christians will learn to express their own worldview in as winsome and compelling a way as the Wachowskis have done in this film.

Book Review: Jonathan Edwards and Justification edited by Josh Moody

If you follow Jonathan Edwards studies, it’s no secret that Edwards’ doctrine of Justification has been under fire since the 1940s. Examples abound, even in popular Reformed writings. R. Scott Clark has written in an online forum that “At best, Edwards was at times confusing about justification. At worst he was contradictory and unconfessional re the same.” J.V. Fesko devotes a few pages of his otherwise wonderful book Justification to Edwards and concludes: “It does not seem possible to argue that Edwards’ construction is within the confines of Reformed orthodoxy…at minimum, a cloud of ambiguity hangs over Edwards’ doctrine of justification” (39). There are others who argue that Edwards was unambiguously Reformed in his view of justification and that there is no question of the quality of Edwards’ orthodoxy.

In this latter category belongs a new book from Crossway, Jonathan Edwards and Justification. Josh Moody, the editor, as well as the other contributors are all convinced that Edwards has been fundamentally misunderstood by a wide swath of scholars, beginning with Perry Miller during his much lauded rediscovery of Edwards in the 40s and 50s.

Central to this misunderstanding, they argue, is the misreading of much of Edwards' terminology.  Among the most “troublesome” aspects of Edwards’ expression of justification is his usage of the word “infusion.” Moody helpfully explains the misunderstanding:

When Edwards talks about infusion and the like, what he is referring to is not the infusion of righteousness that the Westminster divines spoke against, but rather the experience of the new creation, the experience of having Christ in us, and us being in him. This supernatural event takes place when someone becomes a Christian – that is what Edwards is describing… (14)

Moody ably defends this thesis in his own chapter, and also helpfully lays out Edwards’ understanding of justification based on Edwards’ quaestio, his Justification by Faith Alone, and some of his Miscellanies. There is also discussion of Edwards’ ordo salutis. The charges of “confusion” and “ambiguity” are hard to be sympathetic with once one understands that Edwards absolutely does not root justification in personal holiness. Rather, Moody points out that there is a strong emphasis in Edwards on union with Christ as the ground of our justification.

[At one point Moody warns that anything from Edwards’ Miscellanies ought to be regarded as less significant than his printed writings. Moody helpfully quips, “If I am held to the stake for every semiformulated idea I have ever penned in private journals, I had better get rid of some of them before I pass through the veil.”]

Intrinsic to Moody’s case in defense of Edwards is that there is not always a 1:1 relationship between Edwards’ terminology and historic Reformed terminology. The above mentioned reference to “infusion” is a prime example of this. Moody admits that Edwards was a creative thinker and was writing in a context of apologetic against enlightenment thinkers. As such, he offered up-to-date arguments and not simply dogmatic restatements. He was writing for a creative an sophisticated era, and so he often used created and sophisticated language in addressing the challenges of his time.

In Kyle Strobel’s chapter, he argues that “Edwards’ development of soteriological loci under his analysis of the person and work of Christ and the nature and gift of the Spirit.” This is a significant chapter for coming to understand Edwards’ view of the roles of the Trinitarian persons in planning, accomplishing, and applying salvation. In the end, Strobel concludes that Edwards does not deny or undermine the forensic nature of justification because, “For Edwards, the only true ground for forgiveness is Christ himself. Because salvation, in its entirety, is found in Christ, union, we could say, grounds the application of redemption.”

Rhys Bezzant’s chapter, “The Gospel of Justification and Edwards’ Social Vision” explores the ministry context in which Edwards was writing and explores his doctrine of justification within those related pastoral themes. One comes away quite convinced that the portrayal of Edwards as a preacher of subjective change is an unfair caricature, to be sure. His chapter is interesting and contributes to the wider discussion of Edwards’ views.

Samuel T. Logan Jr. spends his chapter discussing what it meant for Edwards in terms of obedience, for someone to be justified. What does a justified person act like? He bases his answer largely in an overview of Edwards’ Religious Affections. It is clear from Logan’s chapter that for Edwards (echoing the rest of the Reformed tradition) there is no justification where there is no growth in the Spirit. This is because “The more a true saint loves God with a gracious love, the more he desires to love him, and the more uneasy is he at his want of love to him; the more he hates sin, the more he desires to hate it, and laments that he has so much remaining love to it…” This “relish for more relish” is something which, according to Edwards, only the regenerate person understands. Likewise, where this is missing, justification is also missing. This is hardly a crypto-Catholic understanding of justification.

The book ends with Doug Sweeney’s chapter, which is simply put, my favorite part. It is a joy to read, and I highly recommend that others actually skip to this one after reading Moody's excellent first chapter. In the fifth chapter, Sweeney spends a great deal of time establishing Edwards’ Reformed bonafides.  He discusses the fact that yes, Edwards does point to faith as “the qualification which God has a primary Respect to in Justifying men.” However, Sweeney helpfully points out that “godly love is implied in saving faith and so is spoken of in Scripture as a condition of salvation – not a condition that secures justification before God, but a condition without which one does not have genuine faith” (143). Sweeney also points out the emphasis within Edwards on union with Christ as the ground of the believer’s righteousness before God. This is very much in keeping with the Reformed tradition of Calvin.

I would like to think that Jonathan Edwards and Justification is a solid step towards answering the concerns of men like Fesko, Clark, and others. This is not a substantial volume in terms of size, but it very clearly makes a strong case for the orthodoxy of Edwards’ teaching on justification. Edwards was a creative thinker who used less than conventional language at times to clarify his doctrine. This does not place him outside of Reformed Orthodoxy, but it does mean that he needs to be read more slowly, with an eye to the apologetic context in which he wrote and preached.

You can find Jonathan Edwards and Justification here.

[I received a copy of Jonathan Edwards and Justification for review purposes from the publisher and was not required to give a positive review as a condition for my receiving it.]

Book Review: Canon Revisited by Michael Kruger

Canon Revisited is an important book, and I hope everyone reads it. The first chapter leads off with a quote from Ernest Best: “No one has come up with a satisfactory solution as to how we determine which books should be in the canon” (15). It might be simplistically summarized that from beginning to end, this book exists to prove Best wrong. There are objections from many different quarters, all basically arguing that the Christian cannot know that the twenty-seven books in the Christian canon of the New Testament are the right books. According to Michael Kruger, the church is not under threat of a historical crisis, but rather, what is at its core, an “epistemological crisis” (19). And so Kruger has written this book with a modest goal: to show that “Christians do have sufficient grounds for claiming that they know which books belong in the New Testament” (295).

I say this is a modest goal. To some, it sounds like a herculean task. It is crucial for understanding this volume, however, that readers keep in mind what Kruger is not out to prove. This book is not an all-out apologetic argument for the truth of Christianity. It is not a one-stop book to give to an unbeliever who wants a good reason for why he should believe that Jesus is Lord, and the Bible is telling the truth about Him. As Kruger helpfully states in summary fashion:

We are not asking how a person comes to believe in the canon (for the first time). Nor are we trying to prove the truth of the canon. We are asking whether the Christian religion can give an adequate account for the knowledge it claims to have. But such a question can be answered only on the basis of the Christian faith itself – that is, on the basis of the Christian conception of God, his purpose and plan, the nature of human knowledge, and so forth. And where else would we turn to acquire this information but to the very scriptural books in question? (289-290)

It is here that one sees most clearly the method and assumptions Kruger will be employing in this book. Those with a bent towards presuppositional apologetic methodology will find themselves very much at home in this book. Since I lean that way in the first place, it was nice to see argumentation that did not seek to placate unbelieving approaches to the canon. Rather as Kruger points out, if the argument is that Canon can only be explained in Christian categories, and if he is right that canon is ultimately a theological issue (294), then an accounting for the canon must take place on the Christian’s turf. There is simply no way to provide a theologically cogent account of canon in a satisfactory way while granting the skeptic’s presuppositions, since he brings assumptions to the table which already discount the answers which make the Christian view cohere.

The book rests in some respects upon Alvin Plantinga’s work in the area of epistemological justification. Particularly, Kruger distinguishes between two specific challenges to the canon: de jure objections and de facto objections. De facto objections argue that a belief that we have the right books in our canon “is intellectually unacceptable on the grounds that it is false” (288). De jure objections, on the other hand, argue, “not that it is false, but that it is intellectually unjustifiable” (288). Kruger is clear that it is the de jure objection which this book is responding to. Once he has responded to the de jure objection, he reacts: “Whatever other objections the critic may have, it can no longer be this one” (295). It is not a book to destroy skepticism altogether, but to eliminate one powerful objection.

The first half of the book is devoted to exploring the various canonical models that are out there and then concludes with a presentation of the self-attesting model of canon, which Kruger if himself advocating. The self-attesting model, Kruger is seeking to show, not only avoids the problems that the other views of canon present, but also provides a valid model for canonization which faithfully reflects the teachings of Scripture regarding itself.

What is the self-attesting model of canon? In the simplest terms, Kruger explains that to say the Scriptures are self-attesting means that one turns to them in order to understand them. Put another way, “self authenticating” refers to the fact that “one cannot authenticate the canon without appealing to the canon” (91).

A self-authenticating canon is not just a canon that claims to have authority, nor is it simply a canon that bears internal evidence of authority, but one that guides and determines how that authority is to be established (91).

This is something which is denied by all the other models of canon. As Kruger says, “all these models share one core characteristic. They all ground the authority of the canon in something outside the canon itself. It is this appeal to an external authority that unites all these positions” (88). What are these positions? Put briefly, the other models can be reduced to Community Determined models and Historically Determined models. There are variations within each of these models and nuances which deserve attention, but at the end of the day, as Kruger has already said, the determination of the canon is either put into the hands of the church, church leaders, or church historians with these views.

While Kruger does spend some time arguing that this view of the canon does have a historical basis in authors such as Turretin, Calvin, and Bavinck, I certainly would have appreciated a bit more than one paragraph on the historicity of this view. It is, of course, far more important to see if Scripture teaches this view, and so this semi-lack of historical material can easily be forgiven. It is certainly a subject worth following up on, however, as many in the Reformed community seem to be opposed to the self-attesting model in favor of a strictly historically-determined model. Regarding the Historically determined model, Ridderbos offers a helpful criticism:

Historical judgment cannot be the final and sole ground for the church’s accepting the New Testament as canonical. To accept the New Testament on that ground would mean the church would ultimately be basing its faith on the results of historical investigation (113).

The choice is between models which rely upon various external authorities an finding a model which is consistent from beginning to end in its theology of canon. Kruger argues (and I agree) that the self-attesting model is such a model.

Kruger argues, as he develops the self-attesting model, that the Bible testifies to an “epistemic environment wherein belief in the New Testament canon can be reliably formed,” including three features: (1) Providential exposure of the church to the canon, (2) Attributes of canonicity, and (3) Internal testimony of the Holy Spirit. As Kruger explains, “These three components must all be in place if we are to have knowledge of the canon” (94).

Kruger also spends much time on (2) discussing what exactly the attributes of canonicity are. He argues that there are three attributes of canonicity – each of which make appearances – to a greater or lesser degree – in the other models of canon. What makes Kruger’s approach different, however, is his insistence that a canonical book will possess all three of these attributes: (a) divine qualities, (b) corporate reception by the church, and (c) apostolic origins. Now, these three attributes are not enough. Even if a book does possess all of these things, features (1) and (3) must also be present. Kruger looks to Scripture to derive this model and all of its features – I think he does it quite effectively. In fact, much more could be said. Kruger shows much restraint, in a lot of ways. Meredith Kline’s discussion in the first hundred or so pages of The Structure of Biblical Authority make a strong case that the canon itself can be entirely constructed based on the Bible’s internal covenantal structure. Kruger gives Kline a brief mention, and if you follow up on Kruger’s footnotes you’ll find a wealth of information which is highly beneficial in this respect.

The second half of the book is meant to deal with potential defeaters which might be brought up against the self-attesting canonical model. One argument is that it is not the apostolicity of many New Testament books are not unanimously agreed upon. However, Kruger points out that the lack of a consensus can hardly constitute a defeater since there is also not a “consensus” against the apostolicity of the canonical books. Furthermore, those who are critical of apostolicity oppose it on the basis of modernistic assumptions. Kruger rhetorically asks, “Why should we think Enlightenment-based methodologies are more likely to produce true conclusions than Christian ones?” (291)

In the last two chapters, Kruger addresses other defeaters. Modern liberal scholarship largely tends to claim that there was disagreement over the contents of the canon, and assumes that a divinely inspired canon would not entail as much disagreement as was involved in the development of the canon. Of course, this assumption of such scholars is highly questionable and assumes that disagreement in the early church is inconsistent with the self-authenticating model (which Kruger makes clear it is not – in fact it is expected). Furthermore, Kruger says, the critics are exaggerating the nature of the disagreements.

So much more could be said in commendation of Kruger’s book. It is my personal belief that Canon Revisited will be key in providing structure for future discussions of the canon. The book is logically structured, rigorously argued, and is Biblically centered, as would be expected for a book seeking to consistently apply the teachings of Scripture to the structure of the Biblical canon. After reading Canon Revisited, my own understanding of the canon has been deeply enriched. I want to recommend this book to others as highly as I possibly can. It will be considered the major work on canon from an advocate of the self-attesting model for years to come.

Book Review: Biblical Hebrew: A Compact Guide

If you are taking Hebrew using Miles Van Pelt and Gary Pratico's book Basics of Biblical Hebrew, then this is the book for you.  If you took Hebrew and need a compressed summary of all the basics you need in order to do translation, this is the book for you.

I am currently taking Hebrew under Miles Van Pelt, and my only disappointment is that this book came out at the end of my time in Hebrew rather than before.  Each day after class, Miles gives a specific summary of everything he wants his students to remember when the test is taken the next day.  I would write all of these things down and then end up printing out the chart containing all of the necessary information from the CD-Rom that is included with the BBH Grammar and Charts books.  Then this book came out and I was embittered because each chapter in the Compact Guide contains all the essentials for each subject from the Grammar.  What I would do during Van Pelt's lectures is highlight the most important things that I needed to remember in order to pass the quiz the next day.  Then to review, I'd comb back through and read the things I underlined.  This book contains all of it.  And because it's pocket-sized, you can carry it around with you and review.

This book will not help you learn Hebrew for the first time, but it is perfect for those in the process of already learning, reviewing, and refeshing themselves on their Biblical Hebrew.  It's biggest strength is the convenience of having all the unnecessary stuff burned off and the essential information distilled into its purest form.  Although there are disadvantages to keeping things compact, as far as I've been able to tell, nothing that Van Pelt considers to be of highest importance has been left out, and so you can be sure that this is a good purchase for most people dealing with the original languages (unless you're some sort of weird Hebrew savant).

Besides a topical journey through the language, the book includes a set of verb paradigms and charts as well as a brief and simplified lexicon in the back of the book.  This sure beats lugging around the oversized grammar with you while you're on the go.

The book doesn't release until August 21st, but you can currently get it at the RTS Jackson Bookstore for $15.  Not a bad deal.

Book Review: Letters from the Front, Edited by Barry Waugh

It's a struggle for me to review Letters from the Front in a lot of ways. J. Gresham Machen is a hero of mine, and as a theologian I have the highest regard for him. When I came to this book, I had decided that in some ways, all he was was a theologian, and so my expectations for this book were skewed from the very beginning. Instead of a mere theologian, what I found in these pages was a more robust picture of a man, and I felt chided for seeing my heroes as being so two-dimensional.

First of all, it must be acknowledge that what Barry Waugh has done in giving us this book is nothing short of a feat. This book is the result of literally years of Dr. Waugh sitting down one letter at a time and copying them from the correspondence which Machen had saved for posterity's sake. As is explained in the introduction, it was not always the easiest thing for Waugh to do this, in terms of transcription of difficult words and the complexities of the whole process. In terms of the work put into this, we should all be grateful. These documents indeed provide a fuller picture of the life of Machen during World War I when he served in France as part of the YMCA. Readers will find much of interest in these letters. There are also interesting photographs of Machen, his family, and YMCA facilities similar to those Machen would have been living in and around during the penning of these letters.

Readers may perceive that there is a "but" coming. And indeed it is true. BUT if you are reading this book expecting to see a tremendous amount of theological reflection, of struggling over the problem of evil, reflecting upon the practicalities of his theology, you will be disappointed for the most part. At best you will find that Machen was a very caring person and that he cared for the spiritual well-beign of the men around him. This is important - Machen was not just a detached observer in the war, but a prayerful, thoughtful, and pastoral individual. When tempering our expectations, it is helpful to recall that these letters were written for Machen's family (most of them are written to his mother) so that they could understand what he was going through, who he was meeting, and simply what was going on. You get a fascinating look of what it was like for him to live near the frontlines. We hear the occasional discussion of hearing gunfire in the distance and talk about his frustrations with some of the people he meets on a day-to-day basis, but this is not a theology book. It is more a document which later historians will find of great assistance when they come to fully sketch out the life of Machen. I have nothing bad to say about the book, I just wish I had gone into it with different expectations.

[Full Disclosure: I received this book from the publisher for review purposes. However, I was not required by them to give the book a good review.]

Thoughts on the New ESV Single-Column Legacy Bible

After spending a great deal of time researching and thinking about it, I decided to order one of the new ESV Single-Column Legacy Bibles from Crossway. I wanted to very briefly share some of my thoughts.

I want to state, right out of the gate, that this is already my favorite Bible I've ever owned. I have a Reformation Study Bible, an ESV Thinline, an NIV Thinline, a pocket NASB (which is quite amazing) and more than my fair share of NKJV Bibles that were given to me as graduation gifts at one time or another. I have a long history with thinline Bibles and Study Bibles, but I have never owned a Bible like this one. The Legacy Bible is a departure from my old tradition as it has a minimalist design. If you like Apple and keeping your desk tidy and see the appeal of minimalist aesthetic, this may be the Bible for you.

It is physically large - almost as large as my 12 year old Reformation Study Bible (but not as big as the ESV Study Bible), and yet it is only Bible text on the page. The pages have been specially printed so that the words on both sides overlap, meaning that there is white space around the words instead of seeing the grey of the text behind it bleeding through the pages. The minimalist design means that there are no cross-references, very few textual notes, and larger letters than are in my ESV Thinline. Section headings have been moved to the margins allowing for a fluid reading experience. At times when I was reading through Galatians I gloried in the thought that the section headings (and chapters) were never really there to begin with. Paul's book is one prolonged argument, and it is easier to enjoy the way that Paul meant it without the headings inserted into the body of the text. This was a winning decision by Crossway.

The margins are very nice and draw your eye towards the text in a very appealing way. You want to keep reading simply for the joy of it. [If you are interested in seeing some photos and a bit more in-depth discussion of the Legacy, look here.]

After spending two days reading this new Bible, I declare it to be my new favorite. It is a blast to read, an aesthetic experience, and an excellent Bible. My only regret is that I did not wait a couple of months to purchase one of the Calfskin versions. The black genuine leather Legacy Bible which I purchased (in my haste) is pretty stiff and "plasticky" in my opinion. I guess I'll just have to break it in. Regardless of the binding, however, this is going to be the Bible that I use for my own personal study, and it is hard to imagine a Bible any time soon eclipsing this one.

[In case there is suspicion about my glowing review, let me be transparent with you all. I bought this book and was not given one for review purposes.]

Did Del Toro Change His Mind, Mid-Series?

[A little over a year ago I reviewed the first two books in Guillermo del Toro & Chuck Hogan's The Strain trilogy. This review of the third book assumes that you've read my review for the first two books, which you can find here.]

*Spoilers*

About this time last year I offered up that the first two books in the trilogy (The Strain and The Fall) were pretty much Left Behind for pagans. I have changed my assessment, now that the trilogy has concluded. This trilogy is Left Behind for pagans who like a little mysticism sprinkled here and there. (The more cruel among us may just say it's for fans of Left Behind.) Initially, I said that del Toro (who refers to himself as a "lapsed Catholic") had taken a naturalistic approach to vampires and that his approach appeared to be intentional. Some described the series as Stephen King meets Michael Crichton.

When I read the third and final book The Night Eternal this last week, I was dumbfounded. It seemed like the series did a 180 worldview shift. Suddenly, now that the ragtag group of rebels have their hands on the infamous vampire text the occito lumen there is this whole backstory which emerges about how The Master (the big bad vampire who is in the process of taking over the world) is actually the ancient bloodworms of an heretofore unknown archangel named Ozryel who had what can only be described as having had vampiric tendencies before his body was torn to pieces by God as a punishment for biting one of his fellow archangels (or something... it was kind of a sloppy story...). Anyway, the series went from being highly scientific/naturalistic in book one to a very hopeless, nihilistic tone in book two, and then ultimately a very spiritual, religious message and tone in the last book.

God, somehow, becomes a big player in the book, and the unlikely second half of the book involves a lot of repetitive phrases such as "Eph stabbed the vampire,"... "Eph's silver sword impaled the vampire," ... "Eph was almost a gonner, but then Mr. Quinlan saved him." I say "unlikely" second half because while The Master has guns and helicopters and weapons galore, Eph and his fellow rebels really only have the Book, a bunch of swords, and a nuke which they plan to use to blow up The Master's birthplace. This nearly all-powerful being who has subjugated the entire human race by book three simply cannot seem to catch this group of oh-so-clever humans who refused to be turned into vampires.

And in the end, there's a reason for that. God is on their side. With God as the tale's before unknown (and certainly unspoken of) deus ex machina we all know there is no stopping Eph, Fet and Nora and their nuclear dream of a world without the Master. And so the drama is stripped from the story. Don't get me wrong - I'm glad that some sort of God won the day in this book, but because he was 100% absent in the first two books, it looks a little like a series that didn't have a built-in ending.