Author: Anthony Flood

Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία: his most distinctive theological distinctive? Introduction to a series.

When people first encounter Otis Q. Sellers’s writings, they learn he was virtually alone in holding that God’s global reign, the Kingdom for the coming of which He taught His disciples to pray, will be both future and premillennial.

That is, Christ’s “second coming,” His return to tabernacle among us again, to be present (παρουσία, parousia) because of who He is and what He is for a thousand years (the Millennium), is not His next move.[1] He will return before that Millennium but after that Kingdom has been operation.

His next move is the inauguration of His Kingdom (βασιλεία, basileia) on the Day of Christ (Χριστοῦ, Christou) (Philippians 1:6, 10), characterized by the Second, post-Pentecost Coming of the Holy Spirit.

After centuries of divine government, the Holy Spirit will lift His restraints to test all who have been living under it. He will permit a revolt (ἀποστασία, apostasia) (2 Thessalonians 2:1-3), which will initiate a time of pressure, testing, or “tribulation” (θλῖψις, thlipsis) for subjects of Israel’s restored Kingdom.

At His coming, Christ will crush that rebellion, marking the great and notable Day of the Lord (Κυρίου, Kyriou) (1 Thessalonians 5:2-5; Acts 2:20), the end of Israel’s 70 weeks (Daniel 9:27).

But that’s future. In the present, Christians work out their salvation with fear and trembling (Philippians 2:12), not only before Christ’s Parousia, but also before the coming of His Kingdom (no matter how soon it may come).

Almost without exception, Christians do this as members of societies called “churches.” Continue reading “Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία: his most distinctive theological distinctive? Introduction to a series.”

Commercial Break: the first review of “Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him”

Gerard Casey

Gerard Casey, MA, LLM, PhD, DLitt., Professor Emeritus, University College Dublin, Associated Scholar, The Mises Institute, Auburn, Alabama, and Fellow, Mises UK kindly gave Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him its first public review.

His name first came to my attention when, perusing online a Google Books snippet of a multi-volume biography of Friedrich Hayek, I caught a citation of Casey’s Murray Rothbard. In the reference notes, I found mention of two short essays of mine on Rothbard, residue of my ill-fated attempt (despite Joann Rothbard and Lew Rockwell’s blessings) to research Murray’s life and thought for publication.[1] 

With that as my entrée, I reached out to Casey on the 24th anniversary of Murray’s passing in 2019. After a few months’ correspondence, I asked if he would read the manuscript of, and perhaps write a foreword for, Christ, Capital & Liberty: A Polemic. He graciously agreed, and the book appeared that July with his generous commendation.

Here’s the aforementioned review, which appeared on Amazon’s UK site on August 3rd.

I certainly couldn’t hoped for a better review!

Please consider writing one or alerting your philosopher friends to Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him.

Thank you for considering doing either of those things.

And thank you, Professor Casey!

 

Note

[1] Hayek: A Collaborative Biography: Part IV, England, the Ordinal Revolution and the Road to Serfdom, 1931-50, edited by Robert Leeson, Palgrave Macmillan 2015, 48, 60; Gerard Casey, Murray Rothbard, Continuum International Publishing, 2010, 153. The citations are of Murray Newton Rothbard: Notes toward a Biography and Murray Newton Rothbard: An Introduction to His Thought. Links will take you to their text on my old site.

Having become flesh on 25 December, 5 BC, He began tabernacling among us on 29 September, 4 BC.

“And the Word became (ἐγένετο, egeneto) flesh (σάρξ, sarx) and dwelt (ἐσκήνωσεν, eskēnōsēn) among us . . . .” John 1:14

In “The Divine Purpose,” Otis Q. Sellers wrote:

In all the work that God has done for mankind, is now doing for mankind, and will yet do for mankind, there is a definite goal, a fixed purpose. To state it as simply as possible, His object in all His work is to produce a people who know Him, who understand Him, who love and appreciate Him, a people with whom He can joyfully dwell, and among whom He can center Himself in view of a greater program for the universe.

If the Bible is read carefully from Genesis to Revelation, it will be found that this end is reached and becomes a reality in Revelation 21. There under a new order of things described as “a New Heaven and New Earth,” the tabernacle of God is seen as being with men, He is dwelling (tabernacling) with them, they are His people, and He is their God. This is as far as Revelation takes us, yet we can rightfully go a step beyond this and envision a great divine program in which mankind will be vitally involved as those who are working and not those upon whom God is working. A tabernacle (skenos) in Scripture when used figuratively always denotes a center of activity, and it could not be that God would bring about such a center and then not use it.[1]

To “become flesh” is to be, not born, but rather “begotten,” that is, conceived. The root of ἐγένετο (egeneto) is γίνομαι (ginomai), to come into existence.

The one who is born, who exits the womb, is already flesh, which precedes “dwelling among us.”[2] (She who “can’t bring a baby into this world” and so procures an abortion only achieves the death of an already begotten and in-the-world baby.)

The English “to dwell” doesn’t capture the Greek ἐσκήνωσεν (eskēnōsēn), the form of σκηνόω (skēnoō) in John 1:14. The root is σκηνή (skēne), originally the hut or tent where players changed masks and costumes behind the stage; later, the stage itself. (Our “scene” descends from this.)

When Jerome translated into Latin the Hebrew הַסֻּכּ֛וֹת (hasukkoth) of, say, Deuteronomy 16:16, he used tabernaculum, the diminutive of taberna. (Our “tavern” echoes this.) He rendered that verse’s Hebrew as in solemnitate tabernaculorum, that is, “in the feast of the tabernacles.”

Tabernacles are booths. Annually, Jews today set up booths where they commemorate סֻכּוֹת‎, Sukkot, one of three Torah-commanded pilgrimages to the Temple which was destroyed in 70 A.D. (The other two are פסח, Pesach, “Passover” and שבועות, Shavous, “Pentecost.”)

In 5 BC, the angel Gabriel announced two conceptions, that of John (the “Forerunner”: Luke 1:13), and then of his cousin, Jesus (Luke 1:31). Gabriel addressed the first to John’s father, Zacharias; the second to Jesus’ mother, Mary. According to E. W. Bullinger: Continue reading “Having become flesh on 25 December, 5 BC, He began tabernacling among us on 29 September, 4 BC.”

The Silence of God: Anderson’s book, Sellers’s turning point—Part 5

[See Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4 of this series.]

If, as Otis Q. Sellers held, the divine administration covered in the Book of Acts came to an end—marked by the Apostle Paul’s proclaiming the salvation-bringing message of God to be freely authorized to the Gentiles (Acts 28:28)—what did God replace it with?

The answer is the dispensation of grace (Ephesians 3:2), which corresponds to the time of God’s silence, which gave Sir Robert Anderson’s book its title. The preceding dispensation was not characterized by either silence or grace.

What is the meaning of “dispensation,” the word that traditionally translates the Greek of Ephesians 3:2, οἰκονομία (oikonomia). Let’s hear Sellers as he introduces the subject.

When the Lord Jesus sent forth His twelve disciples, He commanded them not to take any road that would lead them to the [non-Israelite] nations, not to enter into any Samaritan city, to go only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, to herald as they went that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand, to heal the sick, to cleanse the leper, to raise the dead, to cast out devils, to do it all without charge, and to take no money of any kind with them (Matthew 10:5-10).

In my own ministry I travel quite a bit; and each time I go forth, I ignore or violate all these commands. Furthermore, it is my personal knowledge that most ministers do the same; and, yet, we feel no guilt in so doing. This is because we believe in and practice dispensational truth. Although, many simply practice it while at the same time ridiculing it and denying any belief in it.[1]

The Gospel cannot simultaneously be both off-limits to non-Israelite nations (Matthew 10:5) and freely authorized to them (Acts 28:28), at least not coherently. Between the events marked by those verses must be a change in God’s manner of dealing with humanity—a dispensational change.

Continue reading “The Silence of God: Anderson’s book, Sellers’s turning point—Part 5”

The Silence of God: Anderson’s book, Sellers’s turning point—Part 4

[See Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3 of this series.]

Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992) in 1920

In Part 2, I wrote: “Otis Q. Sellers’s reconsideration of the Acts period sprung from pastoral need, not theological speculation.”

Since receiving Christ in November of 1919, he had been an avid Bible student, spending eleven months of 1921 absorbing the details of the Darby-Scofield system of interpretation at Moody Bible Institute in Chicago, settling down with Mildred in 1922, and being ordained a Baptist minister in 1923.

He was, however, no theoretician, or at least the conditions of the unleashing of his theoretical side would not be met until the mid-1930s.

The Sellers’s home, 1932, when he pastored Fifth Avenue Baptist Church in Newport, Kentucky

Public speaking came easily to him; writing did not. For five years he preached at every opportunity before being appointed pastor of the Fifth Avenue Baptist Church of Newport, Kentucky in 1928. (His writing wouldn’t begin in earnest for another seven years.) Early in his pastorate he found himself on the receiving end of questions from truth-hungry congregants, like:

Do Christians today have the ability to preach the Good News in languages in which they were neither raised nor trained?

What about the other gifts Christ promised to the apostles—like being sprung from jail by angels or being immune to poisoning (Mark 16:16-18). Peter even raised the dead! (Acts 9:36-42)

Is baptism a sufficient condition of being saved? If so, where does that leave faith in Jesus Christ? Continue reading “The Silence of God: Anderson’s book, Sellers’s turning point—Part 4”

Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him

Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him, foreword  by David Gordon, Ph.D., went live on Amazon today in hard cover, paperback, and Kindle editions. It will be a day or so before the editions interlink on their respective product pages and the “Look inside!” feature is available on all three. Here’s what you’ll find on them:

“Two things especially struck me . . . . One is the sincerity and passion of [Flood’s] efforts over fifty years to explore various ways of understanding Christian faith. He has at various times looked to Bernard Lonergan and Gordon Clark for guidance, but he has now found a resting place in the presuppositionalism of Cornelius Van Til and Greg Bahnsen. . . . The other . . . is the exceptional learning displayed in it. Tony knows the Bible very well, and he discourses learnedly on the meaning of various Hebrew and Greek words in it. He brings to bear in his discussion a great many of the major Western philosophers, showing a detailed knowledge of their thought. If I am not convinced by Tony’s main thesis . . . I nevertheless commend this acute and erudite book highly.” From the Foreword by David Gordon, PhD, Senior Fellow, Ludwig von Mises Institute

When Christ said we’re to live, not by bread alone, by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God (Matthew 4:4), He didn’t make an exception for philosophers. In Scripture, the philosopher has a cornucopia of divine words to feast upon as eagerly as one who hungers physically devours bread.

To pursue philosophy after Christ the way an artist seeks to emulate the style of a master is to reflect that dependence. The price of denying it is to fall prey to one or another species of foolishness.

In Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him, Anthony Flood (Christ, Capital & Liberty: A Polemic) explores how “vain deceit after the tradition of men” (Colossians 2:8) has taken captive many philosophers, Christian as well as non-Christian.

To philosophize after Christ is to pursue Christ as the Wisdom of God. This requires learning what He has revealed about Himself, the cosmos, and mankind in Holy Scripture and then regimenting one’s thinking and living accordingly.

It also means internalizing the Bible’s Weltanschauung, our “birthright worldview” as created image-bearers, as the presupposition of intelligible predication, that is, of making sense of things, even our sense-making.

The effort to conform one’s mind to Christ’s can generate a “philosophy of philosophy,” or metaphilosophy, indispensable to the “metapologetics” that undergirds sound Christian apologetics.

In Part 1, Basics, Flood describes philosophizing as the unfolding of implications of the worldview which, with our linguistic capability, we inherit at birth.

Part 2, Dialectics, he explores the oppositions that worldviews generate and shows how non-Christian worldviews can infiltrate even the thinking of Christians, including the Catholic Bernard Lonergan and the Calvinist Gordon Clark.

Part 3, Polemics, discusses several expressions of dialectics:

    • John Frame’s Square of Religious Opposition, on which Flood then locates
    • David Ramsay Steele’s atheism;
    • Flood’s defense of the transcendental argument for God’s existence;
    • William Vallicella’s critique of Flood’s metaphilosophy; and
    • Two books, one by Evangelicals that’s silent about the worldview approach to defending the Christian faith, the other by Roman Catholics who embrace that approach, but fail to identify its non-Catholic origins.

If one loves the wisdom of God (the only wisdom worth seeking), then Jesus’ words must constitute one’s philosophical “global positioning system.” Philosophy after Christ shows you what that involves.

* * *

Your reaction to this book, critical as well as appreciative, will be welcome.

The Silence of God: Anderson’s book, Sellers’s turning point—Part 3

Sir Robert Anderson (1841-1918); credit Walter Stoneman for James Russell & Sons 1916

[See Part 1  and Part 2 of this series.]

Among late 19th—early 20th century Anglophone Bible students, there is one learned, eloquent, and prolific public figure who stands out: Sir Robert Anderson, KCB[1] (29 May 1841–15 November 1918). Within the ambit of a blog post, I can do justice neither to the man nor to the book that profoundly affected Otis Q. Sellers’s progress in and toward the truth. The following is the briefest of sketches.

A Dubliner by birth, Anderson was New Scotland Yard’s expert on the Irish Republican Brotherhood (the Fenians), serving as the Assistant Commissioner (Crime) of the London Metropolitan Police (1888-1901) during the investigation of the Jack the Ripper murders.

His heart, however, lay in searching out the truth of what God revealed in His Word, a search that yielded 21 books, including The Silence of God.[2]

Anderson befriended, worked, and corresponded with such Scripture scholars and Bible conference leaders such as Horatius Bonar (1808-1889; Scottish premillennial covenant theologian), Ethelbert William Bullinger (1837-1913; Anglican “ultradispenationalist” compiler of The Companion Bible), Cyrus Ingerson Scofield (1843-1921; organizer of the study Bible bearing his name), James Martin Gray (1851-1935; Reformed Episcopal teacher of Otis Q. Sellers at Moody), and Amzi Clarence Dixon (1854-1925; publisher of The Fundamentals).

John Nelson Darby

Most notably, he preached with the “great-grandfather” of modern dispensationalism John Nelson Darby (1800-1882) in Ireland.[3]

A member of the Plymouth Brethren, first with Darby then with the Open Brethren, Anderson returned to the Presbyterianism in which he was raised.

* * *

It is not that there is mercy for some men, but that God has now made a public declaration of His grace, “salvation-­bringing to all men.”[4]

In quoting Titus 2:11 and citing its Greek in a footnote—σωτήριος πᾶσιν ἀνθρώποις (sotērios pasin anthrōpois)—Anderson highlights σωτήριος, which he rightly renders “salvation-bringing.” It’s an adjective, so: salvation-bringing what?, we ask. Continue reading “The Silence of God: Anderson’s book, Sellers’s turning point—Part 3”

“The Silence of God”: Anderson’s 1897 book, Otis Q. Sellers’s 1929 turning point—Part 2

Part 1 is here.

Fort Thomas, Kentucky, newspaper notice, November 12, 1928, of the purchase of a home by “the Rev. Otis Q. Sellers, pastor of Fifth Avenue Baptist Church, Newport.” It also notes that “Dr. [sic] Sellers and family have been residing in Mariemont, O[hio]” in Hamilton, Ohio’s southwestern county.
Otis Q. Sellers’s reconsideration of the Acts period sprung from pastoral need, not theological speculation.

In 1929, he had been pastoring a Baptist church in Newport, Kentucky for about a year.[1] He was with them from 1928 to 1932.[2] In 1952, he recalled that members of his congregation had been asking him questions he couldn’t answer, forcing him to reconsider what he had been taking for granted for almost a decade.[3]

They were asking, for example, about the spiritual endowments we read about in Acts. Can we be so endowed? If not, why not? If we can, or if we cannot, is that a barometer of our faith (or lack thereof)?

In the year 1929 [Sellers writes] a new set of circumstances forced me into the task of making my own independent studies of certain doctrines in order to be able to deal faithfully and honestly with teachings which were being vigorously advocated by influential members of the church of which I was then the pastor.

This teaching in the main was that a “divine healing” program was absolutely essential in the work of any church if it stood complete and perfect in the will of God.

The basis of this argument was that Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians revealed God’s program for the visible church at the present time. Here they found “gifts of healing,” “working of miracles,” and “speaking with tongues.”

I was in an exceedingly difficult spot due to the fact that Scofield headed this section (1 Cor. 12:1-14:40): “Spiritual gifts in relation to the body, the church, and Christian ministry.”

Cyrus Ingerson Scofield (1843-1921),

“Gifts” translates no Greek word in the cited passage. There’s the adjective πνευματικῶν  (pneumatikōn), “spiritual,” but the reader has to supply the noun it modifies. Sellers preferred “endowments” to “gifts.”

Cyrus Ingerson Scofield (1843-1921) was a leader of the effort to put in the hands of truth-hungry Christians the fruit of the Bible conference movement[4] in the form of a reference Bible.[5] It was “exceedingly difficult,” at least psychologically and socially, for a young minister who had mastered and taught Scofield’s system of seven dispensations to question it.

Continue reading ““The Silence of God”: Anderson’s 1897 book, Otis Q. Sellers’s 1929 turning point—Part 2”

“The Silence of God”: Anderson’s 1897 book, Otis Q. Sellers’s 1929 turning point—Part 1

Cover of 1932 edition, Sir Robert Anderson, “The Silence of God.” Hodder and Stoughton (London) published its first edition in 1897. I’m privileged to own a copy of the third edition (1898).

This blog’s subtitle is “Helping you navigate this dispensation’s last days (2 Timothy 3; Ephesians 3:2). In this and subsequent posts, I’ll elaborate on its meaning. (But see my “Helping you navigate this dispensation’s last days”: What do I mean?,” November 11, 2020.)

In “Christ, our philosophical GPS,” I argued:

If Christ is the Wisdom as well as the Word of God, then He’s the cosmic GPS [global positioning system] that makes possible the intelligible relating of what is immanent within experience to what transcends it, the prerequisite to any sensible development of map-making and map-using.

Scripture’s data are “mappable.” Where are we denizens of the 21st century located on the map of God’s prophetic timetable?

Presupposed in what follows is the conviction that history is neither an evolutionary outgrowth of natural history nor an absurd parade of “one damned thing after another,” but a process of divine-human interchange under His control and direction.

This process will culminate in the manifest Kingdom of God on earth, which will continue through millennium-long Parousia of Jesus Christ and, ultimately, the everlasting New Heavens and the New Earth.

Different Dispensational Strokes for Different Folks

God’s has not dealt with humanity in the same way at all times.

Continue reading ““The Silence of God”: Anderson’s 1897 book, Otis Q. Sellers’s 1929 turning point—Part 1”

Abortion, euphemism, and moral evasion

“Congratulations, Ms. Smith! The abortion was a success. Here’s your new baby girl!”

“Thank, Doc! I didn’t want to kill her . . . I just didn’t want to be pregnant anymore. Thanks for making that happen!” 

Said no maternity patient ever.

Is there anyone who believes that the death of the unborn child is merely an unintended “secondary effect” of a procured abortion for which the procurer, the mother, is not culpable?

Is not that death the primary, intended consequence of the “procedure”?

Abortion-speak has ever been plagued with euphemisms—like “procedure,” as though snuffing out a life were on the level of a tonsillectomy.

Some recognition of reality is reflected when the “procedure” is conflated with its fatal effect, i.e., a dead human being. One now regularly hears of “aborted babies.”

What is subject to a possible abortion (military, aeronautical, or clinical), of course, is a process. Whenever NASA aborts a scheduled launch, what was going forward is halted. The missile is not destroyed.

A procured abortion—another euphemism—results in the “termination of a pregnancy.” That’s accurate as far as it goes, for the pregnancy is a months-long process whose natural terminus is childbirth.

But no one calls an induced labor an “abortion,” even though it ends a pregnancy as surely as a miscarriage (aka “spontaneous abortion”) or mifepristone.

The woman who procures an abortion, surgical or chemical, doesn’t want to “terminate her pregnancy” as much as she wants what has been living in her since conception dead. The ironic bite of the opening fictitious dialog depends on recognizing that homicidal primary intention.

Again, for her, it’s not enough not to be pregnant anymore, that is, to “reclaim her bodily autonomy.” No, heteronomy—in the extreme form of the destruction of another’s body—is the goal. (And if the latter’s distinctive DNA is not a sufficient criterion of physical otherness, nothing is.)

Nothing above is meant to imply that taking an unwanted pregnancy to term is easy, or that one suffering it isn’t deserving of compassion as well as assistance—material, psychological, and spiritual—from people ready, willing, and able to do for the baby what she cannot do, if only she would let them know.

It is meant only to remind those in her situation (and their loved ones) that not all possible solutions to a problem are morally permissible. 

Being “pro-choice” (another euphemism) is meaningless, or at least misleading, if it implies that anything that suits one’s fancy falls within the range of morally permissible choice.  That range does not include the intentional taking of innocent human life.

Of course, those who dismember babies in effigy, as one deranged person did on a church’s steps the other day, attempt to intimidate Justices to influence their deliberations and conclusions, or firebomb pro-life offices are not susceptible to attempts at rational  persuasion.

And they’re supported by millions who knowingly vote for politicians who will not uphold the law.

To combat evil, reasoning is necessary, but not sufficient. The legal order must compensate for the deficiency of “mere argument.” But what is our recourse if those charged with upholding that order fail to do so?

See also

William F. Vallicella, “Abortion and the Wages of Concupiscence Unrestrained,” May 13, 2022

Anthony Flood, “Murray Rothbard: on my late friend’s lamentable error,” January 7, 2019