John Webster’s 2007 Lectures (Remastered)

Update: Per an original publishing agreement with John Webster, the remastered and downloadable mp3s must be removed from the site. I believe the Henry Center will be replacing their streaming audio files with my versions here. In light of this request, the publisher tells me they remain hopeful that these lectures will emerge in published form. This morning they tell me: “Eerdmans had a contract with Prof. Webster to publish the lectures, was in touch with him about revisions prior to his passing, and hopes to be able to bring the book out within a couple of years.”


The inaugural Kantzer Lectures, delivered by theologian John Webster between September 11–17, 2007 at the Carl F. H. Henry Center — are now legendary. Two close friends who attended the week tell me it was unforgettable.

The lectures, “Perfection & Presence: God with Us, According to the Christian Confession,” were to be edited into a final book form. But when Dr. Webster suddenly passed away two years ago, a little under a month shy of his 61st birthday, his ministry came to an end, and the hopes of the 2007 lectures becoming a book seemed to die, too.

What remains are the recordings.

The official description for the event states:

In the inauguration of the Kantzer Lectures series, distinguished Professor John Webster delivers a rich reflection upon the perfections and presence of God. The question at the center of this lectures series is the nature of human fellowship with God. The Investigation of the nature of this fellowship entails for Webster, a comprehension of the divine perfections and their relation to the Trinitarian relations and missions. From the nature of God, the Trinitarian relations and the nature of Divine presence more generally, it can then be understood more clearly what scripture means when it speaks of the Word becoming flesh. Webster offers, therefore, an extensive reflection upon the human history of the divine Word and the nature of his presence in the flesh. Finally, Webster moves to discuss the nature of the resurrected and exalted Lord’s presence, a presence manifest in his Lordship over his creatures and in the practices and Sacraments of the holy church.

Each lecture, and the preceding chapel message, have been remastered. Volume levels (which were a mess, and progressively became worse as the series progressed), have been fixed and amplified. The traveling microphone during open Q&As, sometimes used and sometimes ignored, created another host of audio leveling problems, all fixed and leveled out.

Here are the remastered MP3s:

0: Chapel Message on Mercy
1: Introduction
2: God’s Perfect Life
3: God Is Everywhere but Not Only Everywhere
4: Immanuel
5: The Presence of Christ Exalted
6: He Will Be With Them

 

Religious Atheism

Psalm 14:1 —

The fool says in his heart, “There is no God.”
They are corrupt, they do abominable deeds;
there is none who does good.

James Luther Mays, Psalms, Interpretation, a Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching (1994), pages 81–82:

The sentence seems to say that atheists are silly and atheism is frivolous. We know that in our culture that is not so. The denial of the existence of God is made by serious and honest people. In the society that this psalm describes, however, nabal does not mean things like dumb, inept, silly, clown, buffoon. Rather, the term designates a person who decides and acts on the basis of the wrong assumption. . . . A nabal is a person who, whether shrewd or powerful, makes a mistake about reality.

The “foolishness” with which the psalm is concerned is to say in one’s heart there is no God. That may sound as though the psalmist lived in a secular society and endured atheists who denied the existence of God. But the rest of the psalm makes it clear that the problem is not a reasoned intellectual argument against the existence of God but conduct based on the private assumption that human beings are not held accountable by God.

The psalmist reasons from the way people act to the way they think.

If people enact life in corrupt and perverse ways (vv. 1–3), do not pray to God in their need but live by preying on others (v. 4), then they are denying the reality of the LORD, the God of exodus and the covenant and the prophets. . . . It does not address, therefore, the phenomenon of modern atheism directly. But the “atheism” it does uncover is more dangerous, insidious, and general because it is a reasoning that can be found, as the prophets and Jesus insisted, in the hearts of the religious as well as the secular.

The psalm is not concerned with the question of whether people accept the existence of a supreme being. It is concerned with whether people acknowledge the reality of the LORD, the God of Israel, by calling on the LORD in need and seeking the LORD in the decisions of life.

Indeed, this “no God” as “no culpability” line of thinking is more flagrantly connected in Psalm 10:4,13.

Erotic, Agapeic, Plerotic? Understanding the Creator’s Relationship to Creation

Models of God’s relationship to creation have led to endless debates over the centuries, important debates we must get right because our knowledge of God is directly informed (or de-formed) by our conclusions here. In fact, how we explain this to our kids will have implications on what they think God needs from us, or what he’s trying to give us.

So I was thrilled to hear Michael J. McClymond employed his brilliant mind and research skills to the often ignored problem of Christian universalism (the idea, found among professing Christians, that everyone will be saved in the end). Because how we understand God’s relationship to creation is directly bound to whether we accept or reject the heresy of universalism.

McClymond brings the theme to a boil near the end of his new, two-volume work: The Devil’s Redemption: A New History and Interpretation of Christian Universalism (Baker Academic; June 5, 2018).

There he introduces three key Greek terms. The erotic (self-fulfillment sought in another), the agapeic (an overflow of free love), and the plerotic (an overflow of abounding fullness).

First, the plerotic

Rather than adopting a logic of deficiency and lack, Christian thinkers in approaching God might instead be guided by a logic of plenitude and sufficiency. … In a “plerotic” view, the stress would lie not on metaphysical deficiency but on the fullness, completeness, and overflow of the Father’s existence in the existence of the Son and of the Spirit. Within the intra-trinitarian life of God — so far as we understand it — there is no competition, no give-and-take, no fixed sum of available deity. The language of the Nicene Creed might suggest a plerotic interpretation: “The only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made.” Where here is the tug-of-war? Where is the competitive relation of Father and Son? These are non-Nicene notions of God. Do we not instead see in the creed a beautiful picture of the Son as the overflow or fullness (plērōma) of the Father’s being? “For in him the whole fullness [plērōma] of deity dwells bodily” (Col. 2:9). (1,024)

Later he builds from the plerotic (an overflow of abounding fulness) to the agapeic (an overflow of free love) in contrast to the erotic (self-fulfillment sought in another) —

The universalist problem with grace is intimately connected to the universalist problem with God. Philosophers Leszak Kolakowski and William Desmond both distinguished “erotic” from “agapeic” conceptions of God. Kolakowski captures the basic idea and the basic problem of an “erotic” deity in this way: “God brought the Universe into being so that He might grow in its body. . . . He needs His alienated creatures to complete His perfection. The growth of the universe . . . involves God himself in the historical process. Consequently God himself becomes historical. At the culmination of cosmic evolution He is not what He was ‘in the beginning.’ He creates the world and in reabsorbing it enriches Himself.”

When God is conceived of “erotically” rather than “agapeistically,” God remains in what a psychologist might call a codependent relationship with the world. For this reason God cannot love in a free, full, or independent way. Grace in the biblical sense becomes impossible, not because of an impediment on the human side but because of an inherent limitation or flaw within God.

According to the “erotic” model, God is initially deficient in himself and then seeks to complete what is lacking in himself. The emergence and development of the cosmos is a process in which God is developing toward completion, so that the world fulfills God just as God fulfills the world. One might call this a philosophical hieros gamos (sacred marriage). God and the world are “married.”

The God-concept in Böhme, Hegel, Whitehead, process thought, and much of current kenotic-relational theology is based on the “erotic” rather than the “agapeic” model. God needs the world. God becomes complete through relating to the world. But the biblical idea of free grace is ruled out in erotic conceptions of God. (1,032)

He concludes —

The God-concept of historic Christianity, which is “agapeic,” holds that God created the world out of a sufficiency or even a surplus of being, happiness, and goodness. As Augustine wrote, “We exist because God is good.” The world is an overflow of divine goodness, yet God does not “need” the world. This viewpoint, connected with the foundational Christian teaching on creation from nothing, makes it possible to conceive that God is genuinely gracious and that God loves the world freely and unconditionally. (1,032)

God’s purpose for creation must be explained in ways that affirm that the Creator is not served by human hands, “as though he needed anything” (Acts 17:25). He needs nothing. In him is fullness. We cannot add to him. And yet he created, created freely, created a world for the overflow of his person, his joy, his grace, a place where the abundance of his love would flow freely to us. Only a God who doesn’t need you can be the God who endlessly satisfies you (Ps. 147:10–11). These are profound connections worthy of deep reflection and lifelong worship, and words appropriate for even our children to grasp.

The God Who Makes Jobs, Fills Jobs (Psalm 8)

Psalm 8:6–8 —

You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
   you have put all things under his feet,
     all sheep and oxen,
     and also the beasts of the field,
     the birds of the heavens,
     and the fish of the sea,
       whatever passes along the paths of the seas.

Scattered across the globe are thickly dusted coal miners deep in the earth, sunburned farmers on top of the earth, chefs in kitchens, cattle ranchers, lawyers, politicians, horse tamers, teachers, brick masons, writers, auto mechanics, computer programmers, mothers managing kids and grocery store product price comparisons at the same time.

Countless occupations. And according to Psalm 8 all our legitimate jobs are traced back to God’s special design.

Along with its rich Christological truths, Psalm 8 paints a picture of humankind given dominion over God’s work of creation. And while the tone of the Psalm is one of awe, wonder, and joy at God, writes Ben Witherington, it is specifically awe, wonder, and joy over the majesty of God’s deep concern for us in his design of human nature and human vocation over creation.

“We are told that humankind is bequeathed both glory and the functions of God (though on a lesser scale), that is, to rule over all of creation,” he writes. “Notice that it is God who is the actor in all these actions (‘you made . . . you put’). We are not talking about human accomplishment or what humans deserve, but rather the plan and gift of God. We were meant and made to be rulers over all the works of God’s hands.”

God creates the planet, calls forth vocations, and then actively places and activates his image bearers in specific occupations. And what makes this point especially definite is the cultural contrast. “This stress on human dominion over creation was a revolutionary doctrine,” he writes. “Other ancient Near Eastern cultures saw the gods as part of nature, and all humans as slaves of the gods under the sway of the stars (hence the need for astrology). But it is not by recognizing nature as humankind’s mother, but rather God as its father, that human beings come to understand why they are here. Only by God’s special revelation through his word do humans learn of their true place and task in life.”

Our role in creation is not discovered or settled by astrological signs. Our callings are not simply the byproduct of nature’s latent possibilities. Each human occupation is the result of God’s unique calling for each life based on his design for the planet. Creation and vocation are linked by the command of God.

In other words, to see the earth full of vocationally called image-bearers leads us back to the awesome wonder of God. Browse a list of every available job on the planet, and then, if you have eyes to see divine glory, work backwards until you can see the God who calls each creation-serving vocation into being, and who fills each job opening with an image bearer of his, a vice regent of God’s rule over his creation.

Think like this long enough and eventually you must be overcome with the joy and wonder of beholding the evidence of God’s endless creativity over this planet, and all the particular callings and jobs he called into being. God’s care for us is this deep. He makes jobs and fills jobs. Such a sovereignly invested God must lead us to proclaim: “O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (v. 1).


Source: Ben Witherington III, Psalms Old and New: Exegesis, Intertextuality, and Hermeneutics (2017), 52–54. An Arminian biblical theologian, one I disagree with regularly, BW3 offers marvelous insight in his new trilogy on intertextuality (i.e. the NT use of the OT) in Isaiah (2017), the Psalms (2017), and now finally the Torah (2018).

The Scent of Memory

I recently wrote about the nose and how smells evoke memory. In our ocularcentric age, the sense of smell gets sorely undervalued. Scents process more slowly than sights. But it is the nose that most often evokes powerful and concrete memories, even bad ones.

I was struck by this fact again while listening to a recent interview with Bill Cosby accuser and former guest star on “The Cosby Show,” Lili Bernard. She recounted her attendance in the latest trial, and her poise in Cosby’s presence. “Being in a courtroom with a rapist was difficult but at the same time I felt empowered,” she said confidently. “When Bill Cosby passed by me, within inches, I was really pleased in that my heart didn’t quiver, my breathing didn’t become short. When he passed by me I looked at him with disdain as if he were disempowered. Being just inches away from him, where I could literally put my hand out and touch him, and not feel my heart quicken, and not to begin to hyperventilate, and be able to stand firm and not even feel afraid — for me it was a really empowering moment of healing.”

“But his odor,” she transitioned, as her voice broke. “Oh, shoot I’m going to cry.” She does. “Every time he passed by me in that courthouse, I smelled the tobacco. I smelled his sweat. I smelled his cologne. And that took me right back, because I remember the smell.”

An Age Without Scents

“The Song of Quoodle” is a rhyme by a dog (written by G. K. Chesterton). Really it’s a short lament that of all the wonders of the smellable world, we humans miss out. “They haven’t got no noses,” Quoodle opens, “The fallen sons of Eve / Even the smell of roses / Is not what they supposes” (Works 10.2, 477).

Alas, it’s true. The human sense of smell is dull, a sense we don’t cultivate with much attention. In fact, most of our entertainment is detached from the nose. Even our best novelists, the rare few writers who can put words to the human experience, mostly ignore the smells of storytelling.

We haven’t got no noses, and this is especially true in the age of the eye, an observation of philosopher Byung-Chul Han in The Scent of Time: A Philosophical Essay on the Art of Lingering (Polity, 2017). There he compares optics and olfaction as a contrast of two ways of living: atomized time and eschatological time.

It’s one long essay on the sense of smell — a sense of lingering, a sense deeply connected to creation, community, covenant, our past, and our memory (see Gen. 27:27; Lev. 26:31). In comparison, 200 digital images can flash before our eyes in a minute. But smells don’t work the same way. Smells are immune from acceleration. You cannot enjoy 20 consecutive smells in one minute. Aromas cannot be scaled and accelerated like digital images get scaled and accelerated. Thus, in an age of acceleration, images overrun the senses and smells are ignored.

“A scent is slow,” writes Han. “Thus, as a medium, it is not adapted to the age of haste. Scents cannot be presented in as fast a sequence as optical images. In contrast to the latter, they can also not be accelerated. A society dominated by scents would probably not develop any inclinations towards change or acceleration. It would live off its recollections and its memory, off those things that are slow and long-lasting. The age of haste, by contrast, is a ‘cinematographic’ age, one that is to a large extent shaped by the visual. Such an age accelerates the world into a ‘cinematograph film of . . . things’ [Proust]. Time disintegrates into a mere sequence of present moments. The age of haste is an age without scents” (46).

We should all stop and smell the roses, and the stopping is the necessary point by which we can begin to smell. To smell is to linger. We cannot smell until we stop. We cannot smell until we see that some created beauties are immune to acceleration. This is one non-negotiable to enjoying the fragrances of the Creator, wonders more obvious to lesser beasts.