Now that my schedule has recovered some of its equilibrium, perhaps I can catch up on answering some of Greenbaggins’ questions.
On the law/gospel distinction, Lane says of me that “if there is any distinction, it is in the person, and not in the text, whereas I hold that there is a distinction in the text.” He doesn’t really want to argue this point, but I think there is still room for clarification. I am not rejecting a distinction between law and gospel, or between demand and promise. What I am rejecting is the use of these two categories as a hermeneutic. In short, the abstract categories of law and gospel are not to be used as an aid in exegesis. But I do not reject the application of Scripture in these categories, with due notice of what the text says and the spiritual condition of the one to whom it is applied.
In the discussions about this I have not seen any attempt to answer the examples I have given, examples that show that the function or use of “law” can be performed by any passage and that the function or use of “gospel” can be performed by any passage. The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul. The message of the cross is a stench to those who are perishing. If we have a law/gosepl hermeneutic then we must categorize these passages as one or the other, but then we find God applying them in the other category. The way I am handling the categories allows us to see Christ’s words follow me as being either law or gospel, depending (Matt. 4:19; 19:21). So I affirm the three uses of the law, but I deny that the law should be used as a hermeneutical principle, whether conjoined with the gospel or not. What the text is saying can be determined apart from a law/gospel hermeneutic. What the text means for me cannot be determined apart from law/gospel considerations.
I completely agree with Lane that the Church can enter into periods of declension (we are in a big one now), and that progress is not automatic. So just because something is “new” doesn’t make it good. I also concur with him that openness theism is just warmed-over Socinianism.
Lane raises the question of what my point was in talking about nebulous tradition — was it directed at those who encounter sacramental Calvinism and assume (because of the sacramental efficacy) that it has to be the teaching of Trent. I don’t have my copy of RINE with me, and so I can only say I think that was my point on that page. I certainly believe this to be the case. It happens a lot.
He also raises the question of the relationship between systematic theology and the exegesis of a particular passage. Lane says that it is dangerous to “engage in exegesis with no reference to ST at all.” I couldn’t agree with this more. For any Christian who believes the Bible to be inspired by God, and therefore coherent throughout, systematic theology is nothing more or less than remembering what the Bible says everywhere else when you come to study what it is saying here. Various forms of systematic theology are found in the Apostles’ Creed, Nicea, Chalcedon, Westminster, Hodge, Turretin, and N.T. Wright. No one systematic theology covers everything, and many of them get key features positively wrong — like a guy putting a jigsaw puzzle of a sailboat together, when he is working from the wrong boxtop, a picture of a lighthouse. By the end, he will be putting pieces in with a mallet.
I would even go so far as to deny any antithesis between systematic theology and biblical theology. What is called biblical theology is simply a more refined systematics — a system with many more features, subtleties and workarounds. And I agree with Lane that all exegesis must be conducted with faithfulness to the teaching of the entire Scriptures in the forefront of the mind.
When I say that a man is not defined by his internal essence, I do not mean to exclude the state of his heart from a summary of who he is. I simply do not want it limited to that. His family matters, his story matters, his baptism matters, his relationships matter, and so on. But of course, whether his heart belongs to God in truth also matters.
My last comment concerns Lane’s question about my egg and omelet analogy. In this illustration, what do we do with the rotten eggs, the reprobate eggs in the omelet of the historical church? Doesn’t this give us a “scrambled mash”? Yes, it would, and this is where I would appeal to the scriptural pattern of multiple analogies, because, as we know, at some point, any given analogy will break down. Mine does at this point. The egg/emelet illustration is simply meant to show that there is an individual component to this, as well as a corporate component. The question arises as to whether there is any differentiation between elect eggs and reprobate eggs. Yes, there is, and my illustration (not being about that) tends to blur that distinction. At the eschatological breakfast, the best cook in the world can’t take the rotten eggs out of the omelet before serving. The best gardener can prune the fruitless branches.
I would apologize for this deficiency in my illustration but I think that it is how illustrations are supposed to work, so long as we use a lot of them. The scriptural illustrations sometimes really accent this differentiation (wheat and tares), sometimes get the two kinds of believers too close for comfort (fruitful and fruitless branches in Christ), and sometimes pay no regard to that differentiation (because a different point of the illustration is in view). For an example of this latter, in the parable of the sower, there is no difference at all in what kind of plant is trying to grow. Going back to my point about systematic theology, we have to remember all of our illustrations whenever we are using one of them.