Anthony Flood

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”

“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.”

“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 21^st 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

Soul polemics: Sellers’s unpublished 1950 letter

Otis Q. Sellers on horseback, Grand Canyon, September 20, 1947. (Detail of larger photo given to me by Jane Sellers Hancock.)

We often learn best by contrast. In this long post, I reproduce much of the text of an unpublished letter, dated July 28, 1950, in which Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992) laid out his theology of the soul (psychology) and spirit (pneumatology) against the misapprehension of both by Dr. Keith L. Brooks (1888-1954).

In the November 1949 issue of Prophecy, Brooks had analyzed Sellers’s 1939 What Is the Soul?; Sellers thought it merited a reply. (Some of you know the latter publication was the focus of many recent posts, starting with “Spadework on Display: Sellers the Maverick Workman on the Soul—Part I,” December 14, 2021.) The letter contains an excellent summary of his view that the human being is a unity of diverse “aspects,” but not a composite of discrete “parts.”

During his 1978 New York conference at the Holiday Inn on West 57^th Street, Sellers gave that letter to my friend Sam Marrone. “You can have this,” he told Sam, “this” being a twelve-page, single-space typescript.[1] A couple of weeks ago, Sam gave it to me, another of his many contributions to my effort to tell Otis Q. Sellers’s story.

As for Brooks, except for the titles of his books in the Teach Yourself the Bible series, I could find little information about him. Moody Publishers, the publishing arm of Moody Bible Institute (which Sellers attended for the first eleven months of 1921), has this snippet:

Keith L. Brooks founded the American Prophetic League of Los Angeles in 1930. He was the author of numerous Bible study courses, books, and tracts. Although Keith passed away in 1954, his wife, Laura, continued the ministry of the American Prophetic League until 1960. The League’s Prophecy Monthly eventually merged with Moody Bible Institute’s Moody Monthly. The published Bible study became the Teach Yourself the Bible Series from Moody Publishers.

Sellers starts off irenically enough—“I wish to commend and thank you for the Christian spirit manifested. We see all too little of this in this day.”—but quickly gets down to business.

Continue reading “Soul polemics: Sellers’s unpublished 1950 letter”

Otis Q. Sellers’s presupposition and his first sermon’s subject

Otis Q. Sellers (1901-1992) was a Bible teacher, not an apologist, although he would defend his faith whenever the occasion demanded it. He presupposed that the Bible was the Word of God in the words of men, but never engaged in the “metapologetics” that vindicates this presupposition against challenges. He left such work to others.[1]

In “The Bible: The Word of God,” the first of his 570 tape-recorded messages (1971-1987), Sellers recalled the occasion of his delivering his first sermon, “about fifty years ago,” he says. As he was ordained a Baptist minister in 1922, I’d date this undated message to 1971, which other evidence suggests is the year he launched his tape recorded “library” series (hence the “TL” series).

In that first sermon Sellers expressed his acceptance, as his epistemological foundation (my word, not his), of the self-representation of the Bible’s human authors as writing under the control of the Holy Spirit, Who safeguarded the original manuscripts from affirming or implying error.[2]

The Holy Spirit not only controlled the writing of the Scriptures, but also has disposed those whom He would enlighten to read them, not merely as the words of men, but as the Word of God.

Continue reading “Otis Q. Sellers’s presupposition and his first sermon’s subject”

Two Passovers? What a difference a calendar makes. [Republished]

On Good Friday I thought it appropriate to “resurrect” this post from three years ago. —A.G.F.

When Jesus was brought before Pilate, “it was the day of the Preparation of the Passover” (John 19:14; emphasis added). Passover lay in the near future. And yet Jesus told his disciples, “With desire I have desired to eat this the Passover with you before I suffer” (Luke 22:15; emphasis added). What is commonly called “The Last Supper” was the Passover.

If, however, the arguments of Colin J. Humphreys’s The Mystery of the The Last Supper hold up, there is no discrepancy. We may believe Jesus did celebrate the Passover on Nisan 14, not according to the calendar devised during the Babylonian Exile, however, but according to the pre-exilic calendar of ancient Israel. Those calendars were as different from each other as, say, the Roman Catholic liturgical calendar differs from the equally serviceable calendar of the Eastern Orthodox.

The pre-exilic calendar, being 364 days in length, is evenly divisible by 7. In such a calendar, therefore, any given date falls on the same day every year. Therefore, that calendar’s Nisan 14 has always fallen on a Wednesday since the first Passover. Humphreys’s hypothesis, to which I cannot do justice here, dissolves apparent discrepancies that have challenged faithful readers of the Gospels. Image result for The Mystery of the Last Supper: Reconstructing the Final Days of Jesus

For example, even though Jesus was arrested after eating His Passover, John’s Gospel has servants of the high priest Caiaphas conducting Jesus to Pilate’s hall of judgment before the “official” Passover: “and they themselves went not in the judgment hall, lest they should be defiled; but that they might eat the passover” (John 18:28b).

Continue reading “Two Passovers? What a difference a calendar makes. [Republished]”