Congregational and Bible Churches have long raised a banner that lays claim to New Testament Principles. Disagreeing vehemently with their banners, hierarchal churches within the single pastor systems have taken to questioning Congregational reasoning and shaken sympathetic pastoral heads. Over all this the Roman Catholic Church has pointed to the shaky claims of the entire Protestant movement, stuck its thumbs in its theological breeches and scoffed. But I have to ask: who is right? What does a church established on New Testament principles actually look like?
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BOOK:
Church History in Plain Language by Bruce L. Shelley
REVIEW SUMMARY: Decent overview in very easy language.
MY RATING: Rating: 
OVERVIEW: A basic overview of church history in readable English, good to read and helpful but only a primer on a very complicated subject. Definitely pick it up if you’re looking to do research or plan to teach and need some refreshers.
THE BOTTOM LINE: Perfect introduction to church history, easily accessible with plenty of references to introduce the reader to further study.
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April 27, 2008
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REVIEW SUMMARY: Biblically strong, a perfect reference tool for those who want to categorize Paul’s teaching methods and apply to their own methods.
MY RATING: Rating:
OVERVIEW: Roy Zuck follows his classic Teaching as Jesus Taught with a focus on St. Paul (
Teach ing as Paul Taught). Zuck makes sure to focus on Scripture and from there draw any and all conclusions.
THE BOTTOM LINE: Biblically focused to draw any conclusions about Paul’s teaching, the book is an excellent resource and deserves a place on a teacher’s shelf if he/she needs Paul’s teaching labeled and categorized. Otherwise, the long lists might make some weary in reading.
Definitely recommended, but know what you’re buying.
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Two expressive hands, punctuating sentences with either callous, dismissive waves or dour, exasperated shrugs. That’s what I remember about my recent exchanges with friends of mine. Somehow the conversation turns to the benefits of this preached sermon or a visit to a recent church and of their own volition, like lawyers in court shouting “objection!”, my hands are up and waving.
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A good introduction is like a good pair of shoes: when it fits it’ll go a long way. On the big screen, right after the title credits you see that line and automatically you start expecting historical fiction. Oh you’ll easily acknowledge what parts are fact (like the Revolution, or the signing of documents) and which parts are fiction (the messy love triangle maybe) but in the end you come out thinking you’ve actually seen a bit of history, Hollywood style. Well, maybe we’re not all that naïve-but do we ever go back and research the facts from the false?
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Go on over and check it
out. My (extremely dry)
post on
The Melchizedek Tradition is part of it.
The Point of the book: Horton went into this critical examination to prove that there was a connection between the Qumran Community and the Book of Hebrews in regards to the Melchizedek Tradition. Wanting to show the point of overlap and perhaps their dependence on source material, he traces the development of Melchizedekian thought from the Genesis account, through Psalms, over to Qumran, through the early Church and Rabbinical sources and finally the Gnostics before heading back to the book of Hebrews. What’s great about the book is that when he gets to the end, his point was negatively proven. Not only did he not establish a connection between Qumran and Hebrews but he reversed his position to show that the author of Hebrews cares very little for Melchizedek at all.
The Good: The book deals with the material fairly and whenever there is a question as to the author’s reconstruction, he sagely points out the fact that his conclusion is possible but maybe not probable. The Author deals with each of the sources as they stand (for example examining the Genesis account on its own and seeing how a possible interpretation is that Abraham received tithes from Melchizedek). There are a ton of footnotes and the bibliography section is extensive to allow further personal research.
The Bad: It’s difficult to place any of the book in a Bad category on account that its bad for a person who doesn’t have the technical know-how of a more scholarly professional. For example, there are many sections of the book that delve into untranslated Greek, Hebrew, German, Latin and Coptic. Dealing with those sections requires lots of contextual reading but sometimes he really doesn’t aim to enforce the meaning of those words with the context. But that, like I said, is not necessarily bad since you don’t want to spend a lot of time establishing the contextual meaning of relatively easy Greek concepts like kurios and kosmos. The Hebrew is a bit more difficult on account that, well its Hebrews.
The Ugly: The footnotes in the 1976 edition are a mess, condensing several footnotes onto one line to save page space and I guess page count.
Conclusion: The book is a good read for folks who want to see how the Melchizedekian thought progresses through the first five centuries; it’s helpful for the Biblical scholar and finally its extremely helpful for a person who wants a solid backing for Christ’s own Priesthood: but more info on that on my detailed overview of the book below.
Overview (or the part you don’t have to read):
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Sunday. The Eighth Day.
The door opens and Thomas enters in, the small hot room is filled with men. The meal is being set out on the table. John is wearing a towel, finishing washing Matthew’s feet. Matthew is weeping but there’s no sadness in the tears.
“Look who’s here!” Andrew shouting. Thomas waves as Andrew locks the door behind him.
“Tom” Peter bellows while Thomas says “Hey Pete”
“Tommy!” Phil shouts.
“Hey, you’re here!” John, rising from the floor coming over with bucket in hand. Thomas and Andrew walk towards the group.
“Guys, I’m only here for a little bit but I gotta’ tell you–”
“Shalom. Shalom be with you.” The voice comes to the right shoulder of Thomas. The door is still closed, the lockbar still in place.
Silence. The disciples are transfixed over Thomas’ shoulder and he doesn’t breathe as He closes his eyes and slowly turns around.
“Tom. Come over here with your finger and see My hands. Why don’t you also put your hand here, in My side. Stop doubting but believe.”
Thomas doesn’t move; he barely looks at the very real evidence of the risen Jesus. He stares at his eyes and his long, lonely week slam into him bringing him to his knees, knocking him down to understand and confess.
“You are the Lord Messiah–but more, you are my Lord Master. You are my Lord God. My Lord and My God.”
Saturday.
The sun is shining brightly. We are outside of the house, looking in through the open window seeing Thomas standing at the open door. The table is no longer turned over. The stain on the wall is cleaned. Thomas’ personal effects lay neatly on the table, next to his satchel. We can’t hear the soft voice of the person Thomas is speaking with.
“No, I will not come Sabbath: the High Priest may still be looking for us. I will be leaving on tomorrow evening. They’re still in Jerusalem you say? Well, I’ll see them there then.
A pause.
“I have some words for them: even if He really isn’t alive the signs He did, the words He said, the authority He gave us: all those things are too much for a mere man. I still don’t think they’re specifically right about His being back that would imply–well, its not even worth thinking about that.”
A longer pause.
“Yes, yes, I know: I’m not doubting you. I’m saying that when people hope so much, anything is possible but, let’s not argue. I think I understand some things about Him now that I didn’t have a clue about when He was still alive.
“He knew, Martha! He planned it! I intend to tell them this.”
Friday.
Knocking on the heavy wooden door. No one is answering. Martha says something about the Disciples still being in Jerusalem and now we can see her walking away, sadly looking over her shoulder.
The table is still turned over. The pillows are still in disarray. A smear of dried liquid is on the wall. On the floor, staring up at the ceiling with tired yet active eyes is Thomas.
He raises his hands to his face, turns them upwards, then turns the palms back to himself.
“These hands performed miracles.” He squints at the dirty fingernails and the calluses “These hands cast out demons and yet they have no power.”
He sits up and continues to examine his hands then touches his lips “This mouth preached the Kingdom of God to the Jews and even” he smiles “the Samaritans. These lips.
“And yet they have no knowledge on their own.”
He reaches down to his feet, rubs the calluses and shakes his head “These feet walked about, preaching His Gospel and yet they have no reason to walk about if not for that Gospel.
Thomas’ head shoots up “We did all this because He was the one who told us to. We had no power, He gave it to us. We had no message, it was His words. We had no hope, it was all in Him.”
He smiles.
Thursday.
“We don’t know where you’re going, how can we know the way to get there…” Thomas growls to himself. “We don’t KNOW where you’re going!” he yells it snidely, grabs a pillow and throws it against the wall.”
He kicks over the table and punches the wall “Let’s go with him to Judea and die!” grabs his bag and throws it against the wall “We don’t Know where you’re going!” Thomas throws a punch at the air and falls down, heavily breathing.
Now sobbing.
“…Eloi, eloi, lama sabachtani…?” He turns over “How could we have been so blind?”
Wednesday.
Thomas is at the door, basket in hand waving at Martha who is going back to the main house. The sun is high in the noon sky.
He carries the basket back to the table and sits down, heavily sinking into the pillow around it. He takes a big whiff, smiles absentmindedly and opens up the small towel covering the food.
Bread. Fish. A skin of wine.
He stares.
He gingerly, tenderly picks up the fish, his eyes distant “…how we worked that day. Here…there…” He smiles “…how we worked.
“Over five thousand fed from…” he picks up bread, drops it “a few scant loaves and couple of measly fish. We knew He was Messiah from that and yet…and yet it was the next day…
“…at the Synagogue…about His body being bread. Then at the supper on that night–’this is my body given for you.’ Not only did He know but He planned for this very thing.
“At that time He said He’d raise us up on the last day…how could He do that if He was in Sheol where there is no knowledge of God?”
Thomas eats, brow furrowed.
Tuesday.
Thomas is splashing water on his face, hair and back. He opens his red-rimmed eyes, and stops, his hands frozen above the basin, water dripping back in. He stares, not at his own reflection but at the sparkling, rippling water.
“The blind man.” He slowly scoops up some water and methodically washes his eyes. “That blind man…we asked Him who sinned. He told us neither: that confused us for weeks…” he chuckles “but still, he told him to wash in Siloam but first…but first: what was it?” He closes his eyes and puts water once more, over his shut eyelids.
“We must work the works of Him who sent Me as long as it is day: night is coming when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the Light of the world…”
“…did He know…? Is it possible?”
He looks at the water basin again, and stands up, staring at it, backing up against the wall. “That night, there was so much that happened: but when He washed our feet…I’ll never forget that. But…but…how could I have forgotten what He said afterwards.
“Not all of you are clean…from now on I am telling you before it comes to pass, so that when it occurs you may believe that I am He…
“…did he really know…?”
Monday.
Thomas is standing at the window, a rooster crowing in the nearby distance. The sky still has the final purple remnants of night that it stubbornly clings to in the face of the overpowering dawn. A cup of goats milk sits forgotten on the table. A basin of water sits unused by the door.
Clean trails run down his upper cheeks. His eyes are red, bleary, exhausted.
His eye catches Martha carrying water back to the main house. She can’t see him; she’s focused on her task.
He tries to suppress a yawn while whispering “…but Lazarus…”. He yawns again, shakes his head, lowers his eyes.
