Christ didn’t promise earthly security. He promised persecution, conflict, ridicule, and suffering. It’s very tempting for parents to manipulate their children into belief, by making parental approval contingent on belief. It’s very tempting for people in authority to “encourage” people to believe by appealing to people’s worldly self-interest — job opportunities, social standing, etc. In contrast, Christ says in Luke 14:26:

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple.”

If you’re doing it to please your parents, your wife, your children, or your siblings; you’re doing it wrong. Christ clearly intended belief to be something that carries a tremendous worldly cost. Now, let’s take a look at one of the first attempted seminary students, Simon Magus. Acts 8:9-13 begins thusly:

Now for some time a man named Simon had practiced sorcery in the city and amazed all the people of Samaria. He boasted that he was someone great, and all the people, both high and low, gave him their attention and exclaimed, “This man is the divine power known as the Great Power.” They followed him because he had amazed them for a long time with his magic. But when they believed Philip as he preached the good news of the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women. Simon himself believed and was baptized. And he followed Philip everywhere, astonished by the great signs and miracles he saw.

From this passage, we see that Simon’s social standing and financial security were both dependent on his being perceived as a holy man. But, to his credit, he “believed and was baptized”. Like many “former Christians” and seminary students, we cannot say that he was never really a Christian. The story goes downhill from here, though (Acts 8:18-23):

When Simon saw that the Spirit was given at the laying on of the apostles’ hands, he offered them money and said, “Give me also this ability so that everyone on whom I lay my hands may receive the Holy Spirit.”

Peter answered: “May your money perish with you, because you thought you could buy the gift of God with money! You have no part or share in this ministry, because your heart is not right before God. Repent of this wickedness and pray to the Lord. Perhaps he will forgive you for having such a thought in your heart. For I see that you are full of bitterness and captive to sin.”

Wait, what? Isn’t Simon Magus the very epitome of what Christ talked about in Luke 14:26? Simon was willing to forsake money for God!

But Simon wasn’t trying to let go of worldly attachments. He was trying to make an investment in his future vocation. He wanted to be able to do what the apostles did, in public, and get the same adoration he got before. Simon’s heart wasn’t in the right place. Instead of seeing Christianity as a truth worth sacrificing everything for, he saw it as a cosmic vending machine that he could put quarters into to get what he wanted. He thought he could pay a few coins to become a big shot in the “faith based” community.

If your goal is to become a big shot in the “faith based” community, or to become a “fine upstanding citizen” among all of the “people who matter”, your willingness to sacrifice time and money is not a credit to you.

Likewise, some nominally Christian parents think that they can “buy” a fine moral character for their children by sending them to an expensive Christian school that requires creedal confession. To them, Christianity is a values-based social club — a divine vending machine that can get their children access to the right social circles.

Any time we start evangelizing Christianity out of utilitarian considerations, it’s time for a reality check. Did Peter tell Simon Magus, “Just hang in there, champ, and soon you’ll be a big shot!”? Any time we find ourselves citing the utilitarian reasons that we remain Christian, it’s time to get worried.

Christianity is a creedal religion, meaning that membership in the group “Christianity” is determined by profession of a creed. The thief on the cross did not profess a belief in the resurrection or the Trinity, so he was not a creedal Christian, yet he was admitted into heaven. So it is clearly possible to not fit the definition of Christian, yet be admitted into heaven.

Likewise, a person can profess belief in Christ, and even perform miracles in Christ’s name, yet not be admitted into heaven.

What does this tell me? Some will go to heaven, “many” will not. More importantly, it tells me that I am in no position to judge who is or is not going to be admitted to heaven. Don’t ask me whether you’re going to heaven or not, since I don’t know. In fact, I am commanded to “judge not”. God is the judge. It’s between me and God, and between you and God.

All I know is that we shouldn’t be cavalier about the matter. We need to take it seriously. Paul says that I need to work out my own salvation, and you are welcome to do the same.

On the other hand, I’ve become increasingly appalled at the behavior of “Calvinists” on the web.  It’s hard to believe that these people believe what they claim to believe.

In researching the history of the split, I found that Calvin and his supporters accused Arminius of siding with the Roman Catholics.  The fear was that Arminius’s interpretation would start a slippery slope to ecumenicalism and rapprochement with Rome, and it was this fear in part which led to Calvin taking such a hard position on predestination.  Ironically, it is this same mentality that underlies certain fundamentalists who want to elevate Young Earth Creationism to the status of “essential doctrine”.  These fundamentalists express dismay that conservative evangelicals have adopted most of the historical fundamentalist agenda, and the fundamentalists are terrified that ecumenicalism will triumph over militant separation – so they grasp at new doctrines to reinforce separation and defeat ecumenicalism.

Regardless of what threat Arminius posed to early Protestantism, I think it’s clear that modern Calvinist bloggers are out to discredit Protestantism.  In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that many of these strident bloggers and comment trolls are bankrolled by some anti-Protestant conspiracy.  At a minimum, these borderline-autistic idiots discredit Calvinism, which contributes to the slippery slope of ecumenicalism and makes the universalists look downright reasonable.  That is no small feat.

(Of course, there are exceptions.  For example, Dan Phillips at TeamPyro has a series titled “communicating better”, which presents Calvinist ideas in a common-sense format that is not gratuitously offensive or autistic.  Contrast Dan’s irenic style with the relatively disgusting treatment of Calvinism from speakers at Piper’s upcoming “Desiring God” conference, and you’ll see why Phillips is the exception that proves the rule.)

Since I wasn’t there when the earth was created, and since I lack the discernment to perceive the “geology” section in my Bible, I don’t tend to argue about these things.  I also know people who claim that Neil Armstrong never set foot on the moon (it was all staged in Hollywood).  I think they are a bit silly, like the Young Earth Creationists.  But I wasn’t there when the moon landing happened, and neither were they, so I don’t waste my time arguing with them.

Strangely, though, there are some within Christian fundamentalism who want to use Young Earth Creationism as a litmus test.  If you do not profess belief in a certain geological age for the earth, you should be considered to be opposed to fundamental Christian truth, and subject to separation, secondary separation, and militantly opposed by all true Christian fundamentalists.

Since such a litmus test has never been used historically by Christianity, these people feel it necessary to justify themselves.  Why is a specific geological age for the earth a “fundamental” truth?  The answer is – get this – “Conceding that YEC may be wrong would irreparably erode Biblical authority”.

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Do these people not see the implications of such a statement?  If you believe that the Bible has no authority except when science aligns with it completely, you are an atheist already!  By making God’s revealed word subordinate to a relatively inconsequential field of materialist science such as geology, these litmus testers make God’s word inconsequential.  As if the authority of God’s word derives from empirical testing of raw atoms – could professed atheists come up with a more sublime blasphemy?  What a staggering lack of faith, ironically masquerading as belief!

I suppose that we might one day find that they are right, and that the Bible was, indeed, a tome about geology.  In that case, the Young Earth Creationists will be kings of all geology: heirs to the matchless prize of power over dirt and rocks.  In the meantime, however, these contrived disagreements between Biblical eisegesis and modern carbon dating do not diminish the timeless lessons of the Bible one single bit.

I am completely flabbergasted that modern Christians take such matters so seriously.  Can such debates have any practical consequence on what God has commanded us to do?  These seem like contrived controversies drummed up to distract from doing the real work of God.  This seems like a perfect example of the “strike a pose” idolatry, where Christians chose a belief system in order to project something about their own identity, just like putting on a costume.

Is there a historical precedent for any of the early church fathers demanding such detailed precision about the mechanics of geological history in order to feel confident obeying God?  Was all of that spiritual and moralistic mumbo-jumbo in Genesis secondary, and in fact was the Bible really meant to be a textbook of materialistic physics?  Did God want to bless us above our ancestors by waiting until the age of fundamentalism to reveal this new role for scriptures?

What, specifically, are the ways in which our relationship with God would change if we selected one of the theories above versus the others?  What is the penalty of choosing the “wrong” theory, or of choosing no theory at all.