Anthony Flood

Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία, Part 3: to have a position out of Christ is the status of individuals first, then of their societies.

Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992) in his library/studio. Late ’70s/early ’80s.

Previous installments: Introduction, Part 1, Part 2.

To summarize Otis Q. Sellers’s teaching on ekklēsia presented so far in this series, “by the rule of usage in the New Testament,” καλέω (kaleō) means “to position, to appoint, to place, to name, or to designate.”

These terms are synonymous, “agreeing in the sense of declaring a person as being one’s choice for an office or position. It was also shown that to call, summon, invite, and bid are secondary meanings.”

Furthermore, ἐκκλησία (ekklēsia) “was formed by the addition of [ἐκ] ek (out) to the verbal adjective [κλητός] kletos, and that this combination means ‘out-positioned,’ also, that this word can be applied to any individual, company, or nation that has a position out of another.”[1]

This word is a participle; that is, a word that combines the characteristics of a verb with an adjective. It can correctly be parsed as a verbal adjective, and in Scripture is used as a noun.

Sellers then considers those he calls “ekklēsia men,” Melchizedek, Abraham, Moses, and Aaron.

The mysterious man Melchizedek . . . was a priest of the most high God (Hebrews 7:1), and he was the king of Salem. His position, both as king and priest of that city-state, was out of God. Therefore, we can truly say that he was an out-positioned or ekklēsia man. See Genesis 14:18-20.

Continue reading “Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία, Part 3: to have a position out of Christ is the status of individuals first, then of their societies.”

Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία, Part 2: the Kingdom dimension

Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992) in his library/recording studio (late ’70s/early ’80s)

We continue to arrange Sellers’s teachings on ἐκκλησία (ekklēsia).

The word “does not mean ‘church,’” Sellers insists, “no matter what definition is given to this term.” The facts adduced in the preceding post “are generally known, but they have been misconstrued by many, and probably will continue to be until His lightnings enlighten the world (Psalm 97:4),” that is, until the Kingdom comes.

The exalted meaning of “out-called” is degraded and stultified so that it can be used to signify something that we are today. They say that since the followers of Christ have been called out of the world, this makes us the out-called ones. All this is in spite of the fact that Jesus Christ said of His own:

I pray not that Thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that thou shouldest keep them from the evil. John 17:15

They illustrate this by saying that Israel is called “the ekklēsia in the wilderness” (Acts 7:38), declaring that this was because they had been called out of Egypt. These are not the facts in the case of Stephen’s declaration, as will be shown later.[1]

Sellers had nothing but disdain for what churchmen have made of this term:

I suppose that the most prevalent error in Christendom today is the idea that when the Lord Jesus said: “Upon this rock I will build My ekklēsia” (Matthew 16:18), that He was speaking of the great mixture of organized religion that travels under the canopy which today is called “the church.” . . .

In spite of the attempts to prove otherwise, the word “church” comes from the Latin word for “circle,” and it is from this that we get our English word “circus.” So today when we see the pretentious parades and the religious extravaganzas that are put on display for all to see, we are convinced that the word “circus” fits it to quite a degree of exactitude. If I were any part of this great three-ring American religious circus, I would hang my head in shame. But, thank God, from all this I have been delivered and separated. I consider all of this highly successful religious activity to be little more than men putting on the “form of Godliness, but denying the power thereof,” as Paul said would characterize men in the concluding days of this Dispensation of Grace (2 Timothy 3:5).

In other words, the last thing Sellers was going to do was to read the manmade societies of today, especially any to which he may have belonged or in which he was raised, back into the Acts period.

So, what does ekklēsia mean? Continue reading “Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία, Part 2: the Kingdom dimension”

Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία, Part 1: The primacy of sound exegesis over confessional commitment

Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992) preparing a Bible study while vacationing in Hawaii (late ’70s/early ’80s).

The presupposition of this series is that not only the status of Scripture as God-breathed (θεόπνευστος, theopneustos), but also its sound exegesis (including 2 Timothy 3:15), is what matters, not the social interest of an organization, including whether it has Scriptural warrant for identifying itself as ἐκκλησία (ekklesia).

By “social” I mean “pertaining to societies called ‘churches’ and the claims of spiritual authority they may assert.” Readers who regard Sellers’s negative conclusion as too outrageous to be entertained and rule out textual evidence to that effect are implicitly justifying eisegesis, that is, reading into the text of Scripture. Such readers may save their time by not reading any further.

* * *

In “What Does Kaleo Mean?,” Sellers did not lead readers down a garden path to a conclusion that confirmed their presuppositions. His criterion of truth was the coherence of Scripture, not what the ecclesiology of his contemporaries required.

He started by citing a common definition of καλέω (kaleō) and then showing that it could not apply in two thirds of its occurrences in the New Testament. “It is my conviction,” he concluded, “that kaleō has never been accurately defined and that its full meaning has been deliberately stultified in order to maintain a certain traditional meaning of ekklesia.”

In most lexicons kaleō is said to mean “to call,” that is, “to invite or to summon.” One lexicon . . . gives as a complete definition of this word: “Call those within range of the voice for immediate action, invite those at a distance for a future occasion.” Another lexicon says it means: “To call, summon; to call to one’s house, to invite; to call, name, call by name.”[1]

But “while it is true that kaleō does mean in some occurrences ‘to call’ in the sense of inviting, summoning, or bidding, it is also true that in at least ninety-five occurrences of this word in the New Testament, it simply cannot have this meaning.”[2] Continue reading “Otis Q. Sellers on ἐκκλησία, Part 1: The primacy of sound exegesis over confessional commitment”

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, 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.

Gerard Casey

5.0 out of 5 stars

For readers who like an intellectual challenge!

This is a fascinating book!

Written with admirable clarity, erudition, and not a little panache, it addresses itself to the question “What must the world be like for there to be intersubjective communication and reasoning among intelligent (pattern-grasping) and rationally exigent beings with reliable, but fallible, memories, with a grasp of numbers as well as beauty, for there to be mutual criticism according to shared rational norms?”

Anthony Flood’s approach to answering this question, if I understand him correctly, is to be located in the presupposition of the ungainsayability of the Christian worldview.

All thinking, all discourse must start from somewhere. The idea that there might be a presuppositionless starting point would itself be a presupposition. (For the theologically alert, the names of Cornelius Van Til and Greg Bahnsen will give an indication of [some of] the sources and direction of Flood’s thinking.)

Is Flood’s assertion of the primacy of the Christian worldview gratuitous? Does it, as it were, “beg the question?” He’s not unaware of this possible line of criticism and he addresses it explicitly in various places in the book. Whether his treatment of this will satisfy the sceptical is something that will have to be left to each reader to decide.

I have wrestled with a version of Flood’s question for many years, and I’m not at all certain that, despite the energy I have expended, and the amount of time that has elapsed since I first started thinking about it, I am much wiser now than I was when I began. Reading Anthony Flood’s book gave me a headache, but the right kind of headache.

I don’t agree with him on every point, though there are many issues on which we are in harmony. The lack of agreement may well be down to my inability to appreciate the strength of his arguments. In any event, I suspect other readers will find themselves in similar positions though perhaps their agreements and disagreements will lie at different points to mine. Whether or which, the reader of this book will be edified, informed and challenged. What more could one ask for?

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.]

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).

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”