Heresy and Orthodoxy
August 24, 2010
In 1998, whilst on faculty at the University of Nottingham, UK, I was invited by my late and much missed mentor, Bob Horn, to become the editor of Themelios, the UCCF/IFES theological journal. It was a key moment for me, the point at which I decided that, in addition to my more academic work, I would also try to be more of a popular generalist, in both writing and especially reading. My academic work is particularly nerdish: looking at how Reformation thought was received as it spread from the continent to England; and at how patristic and medieval theology was appropriated by the Reformed Orthodox. Enough to send the most manic insomniac into a comatose state; and scarcely of direct use to the pastors of any of the churches where I have been a member. I wanted to be more useful -- and, yes, sinful truth be told, I wanted to have more fun.
I have never regretted the decision (well, maybe occasionally, when I have confidently said something particularly stupid on a subject of which I know absolutely nothing). In fact, I am increasingly convinced that, in an era of academic specialisation, the church needs its generalists more than ever before. Sometimes, of course, aspiring generalists can be boneheaded and inept (as noted already); at other times, like the boy in the crowd, they can be the only people with the naivete (and the innocent confidence which such naivete often engenders) to point to the nakedness of scholarly potentates and shoguns. And one of the great joys of editing Themelios was that I had to read articles and book reviews from across the theological disciplines which were always written in a way that was accessible to the non-specialist. I received a generalist education for free.
In this context, books written by experts which deal concisely and informatively with areas outside of one's own area of interest and specialisation are always to be welcomed, especially by the hard pressed pastor or elder who needs to be prepared to answer the unexpected questions from the congregation yet who has little time to to come to comprehensive terms with, say, the last fifty years of biblical scholarship.
It is in this vein that readers should take note of a great new book by Andreas Kostenberger and Mike Kruger, The Heresy of Orthodoxy which has recently been released by Crossway. the authors are both New Testament scholars; and their book tackles the influential thesis of Walter Bauer, that what came to triumph in early Christianity was not some primeval orthodoxy but merely one competing vision of Christianity among a host of others. It just happened to be the one that won.
Before readers put down their lattes, wearily stroke their soul patches and yawn `Like, you know, what has this totally got to do with empowering my Bible conversation encounter group at The Happening and stuff?', take note that variations of the Bauer thesis have appeared in recent years in works by Bart Ehrman, Elaine Pagels and others; and, while Bauer's book, even in English translation, has scarcely threatened to eclipse J. K. Rowling's sales figures, Ehrman and Pagels are that rarest of beasts: crossover scholars whose works are read by a popular audience, ave become bestsellers, are found at Barnes and Noble, and will almost certainly be read by somebody in your church at some point. Not that I'm envious, mind you. Ahem.
In such a context, this book is a gem, giving both a summary of the Bauer-Ehrman thesis and offering good, solid evidence of its manifold flaws. In the process, the authors deal with the development of the canon, textual transmission, and the relevant bibliography for those who wish to read further. It also has a very helpful concluding chapter (albeit, in my opinion, too brief -- like young Twist, I wanted more cultural criticism, Beadle Kruger!) on why the work of such as Ehrman and Pagels, with its emphasis on diversity, is so appealing in the contemporary cultural context. The book is also thoroughly footnoted throughout, giving plenty of pointers for further reading. All in all, an extraordinarily helpful volume. But what do I know, a nerdy early modernist historian, know about these things? Very little. So trust rather the commendations of Carson, Bock, Hill, Perrin and co, men who do actually know what they are talking about and who do commend the book highly.
Pastors and elders need to be learned generalists. This book is a classic example of the kind of books we should be reading in order to do our jobs in an informed and competent manner. Who knows when that precocious eight year old is going to come up to you after church one Sunday and, completely out of left field, doesn't ask the anticipated question about Bono and Third World debt but rather wants to know `How can I be sure that the four gospels in my Bible are the right ones?' ? Such things do happen; and as an elder, you need to be able to give a solid, unpatronising, and satisfactory answer. This book will help you so to do.
I have never regretted the decision (well, maybe occasionally, when I have confidently said something particularly stupid on a subject of which I know absolutely nothing). In fact, I am increasingly convinced that, in an era of academic specialisation, the church needs its generalists more than ever before. Sometimes, of course, aspiring generalists can be boneheaded and inept (as noted already); at other times, like the boy in the crowd, they can be the only people with the naivete (and the innocent confidence which such naivete often engenders) to point to the nakedness of scholarly potentates and shoguns. And one of the great joys of editing Themelios was that I had to read articles and book reviews from across the theological disciplines which were always written in a way that was accessible to the non-specialist. I received a generalist education for free.
In this context, books written by experts which deal concisely and informatively with areas outside of one's own area of interest and specialisation are always to be welcomed, especially by the hard pressed pastor or elder who needs to be prepared to answer the unexpected questions from the congregation yet who has little time to to come to comprehensive terms with, say, the last fifty years of biblical scholarship.
It is in this vein that readers should take note of a great new book by Andreas Kostenberger and Mike Kruger, The Heresy of Orthodoxy which has recently been released by Crossway. the authors are both New Testament scholars; and their book tackles the influential thesis of Walter Bauer, that what came to triumph in early Christianity was not some primeval orthodoxy but merely one competing vision of Christianity among a host of others. It just happened to be the one that won.
Before readers put down their lattes, wearily stroke their soul patches and yawn `Like, you know, what has this totally got to do with empowering my Bible conversation encounter group at The Happening and stuff?', take note that variations of the Bauer thesis have appeared in recent years in works by Bart Ehrman, Elaine Pagels and others; and, while Bauer's book, even in English translation, has scarcely threatened to eclipse J. K. Rowling's sales figures, Ehrman and Pagels are that rarest of beasts: crossover scholars whose works are read by a popular audience, ave become bestsellers, are found at Barnes and Noble, and will almost certainly be read by somebody in your church at some point. Not that I'm envious, mind you. Ahem.
In such a context, this book is a gem, giving both a summary of the Bauer-Ehrman thesis and offering good, solid evidence of its manifold flaws. In the process, the authors deal with the development of the canon, textual transmission, and the relevant bibliography for those who wish to read further. It also has a very helpful concluding chapter (albeit, in my opinion, too brief -- like young Twist, I wanted more cultural criticism, Beadle Kruger!) on why the work of such as Ehrman and Pagels, with its emphasis on diversity, is so appealing in the contemporary cultural context. The book is also thoroughly footnoted throughout, giving plenty of pointers for further reading. All in all, an extraordinarily helpful volume. But what do I know, a nerdy early modernist historian, know about these things? Very little. So trust rather the commendations of Carson, Bock, Hill, Perrin and co, men who do actually know what they are talking about and who do commend the book highly.
Pastors and elders need to be learned generalists. This book is a classic example of the kind of books we should be reading in order to do our jobs in an informed and competent manner. Who knows when that precocious eight year old is going to come up to you after church one Sunday and, completely out of left field, doesn't ask the anticipated question about Bono and Third World debt but rather wants to know `How can I be sure that the four gospels in my Bible are the right ones?' ? Such things do happen; and as an elder, you need to be able to give a solid, unpatronising, and satisfactory answer. This book will help you so to do.
