Follow My Leader 4 Disquiet at the Seminary

Five years after his father’s little talk about his future, Matthew was sitting in a lecture room at Dallas Theological Seminary.
“Who can think of a really difficult theological question?” asked the teacher.
“If Jesus is God and the Father is God, how come Jesus doesn’t know the hour that he will return, but the Father does? Why don’t they know the same things?”
“We had a question on the trinity last week,” said the teacher. “Any other offers?”
“Are you an amillennialist, a premillennialist or a postmillennialist and explain why.”
“That’s a question I seem to hear rather a lot. Think again. Yes, Matthew?”
“Describe the conflict between deontological ethics and utilitarian ethics in the Old Testament.”
“I’m fascinated, Matthew. Explain what you mean.”
“I’m just saying that sometimes a deontological morality is expressed in the Old Testament but sometimes a utilitarian form of morality will do, but certainly utilitarian ethics are not followed all the time.”
“An interesting hypothesis, Matthew. If you make a statement like that I’m going to have to ask for a considerable amount of evidence to back it up.”
“David refuses to kill Saul even though Saul is trying to kill him. The reason? Saul is the Lord’s anointed. A deontological ethic.”
“Yes,” said the teacher, “but isn’t David like that all the time?”
“No. David is a warrior. He kills other people in wars, but not the Lord’s anointed. If you’re not a king, David can kill you in self defence. A utilitarian ethic.”
“You’re only half way there, Matthew. Weren’t all the wars in the Bible holy wars?”
“Not all of them. Gideon fought a war that was purely defensive. Israel had been invaded by the Philistines and this was because of Israel’s own wickedness. Nevertheless, God chose Gideon to go to war against the Philistines.”
“Very good, Matthew. Like I always tell you, when you build a huge theological castle, build it on a firm foundation. Build it on a quarter of the Bible, don’t build it on just one verse.”
“Am I right?” asked Matthew.
“About what?” asked the teacher.
“About utilitarian ethics? About war?”
“I honestly don’t know. But does it matter? You fought a very convincing argument.”
“Professor,” asked one of the other students, “I think what Matthew is really asking is, if you got your call up papers, would you fight in a war?”
“Some of us would, some of us wouldn’t. Neither would be wrong.”
“Professor,” asked the same student, “would you fight in a war? Would you or not?”
“If I was forced to, yes.”
“Would you choose to?” asked Matthew. “If you were under no obligation to, would you volunteer?”
“Look at the hills, look at the trees,” said the professor. “Who cares who owns it? Who cares about politics?”
“Millions of people care about politics,” said Matthew. “Millions of people who live under oppressive regimes want to know the answer to that question. Does the church believe in war? Is it permitted for a Christian to bear arms?”
“Brilliant, Matthew,” said the professor. “You argued that point very well. Your homework for next week, consider the conflict between deontological and utilitarian ethics in the New Testament.”

When Matthew had tea that evening, he sat next to one of his student friends in the canteen.
“Hello Joe,” he said.
“Hi,” said Joe, “how was it today?”
“I had a strange conversation with one of the professors. I asked him if he believed in war.”
“What did he say?”
“He said that some Christians did and some Christians didn’t. But he didn’t say what he believed.”
“The professors don’t really believe anything, Matthew. They have to hold it all in the balance. Some theologians like coffee, some theologians like tea. You have to understand the merits of both. Some Bible scholars take sugar, some Bible scholars don’t. Some Bible scholars believe in a pre-tribulation rapture, and some people prefer herbal tea with a spoonful of honey.”
“How can you be sure of what you believe?”
“Matthew, you don’t have to be. I know what I think, but I think I may be wrong. I believe in the fundamentals, but there are other questions that have no easy answers.” Matthew began eating. He picked up a forkful of baked beans.
“We eat real food here,” he said. “Food from the supermarket that tastes of chemicals. Not the kind of stuff I get on my father’s boat, that’s all picked fresh from the South American bean farm and kept in a porcelain tub in the freezer.”
“What does your father do?”
“Have you ever heard of Pastor Rob Otley?”
“Heard of him? He’s everybody’s pastor. He’s on the big screen at my church every Sunday morning. Everybody’s heard of Rob Otley.”
“I’m his son.”
“Are you?”
“Yes Joe, I am, really. What do you think of my father’s ministry?”
“Brilliant Matthew, brilliant. Millions of Catholics in Catholic churches all over the world respond to his altar calls every Sunday. There are hardly any empty churches now, and hardly any unsaved churchgoers. He is a one man walking revival.”

Another student came and sat beside them.
“I’ll tell you one thing about Pastor Rob Otley,” he said. “He’s making it impossible for ministers to get jobs.”
“Rob Otley is a picture on a TV screen,” said Matthew. “Of course they still need pastors. He can’t have a cup of coffee with you, he can’t help you with your problems.”
“If you want a cup of coffee at church, there’s a very nice cafeteria upstairs,” said the student. “If you want to discuss your problems, there’s a team of trained counsellors.”
“Who runs it?” asked Joe.
“The entire church can be run by an administrative assistant. All they have to do is pay the bills.”
“Who unlocks it on a Sunday morning?” asked Joe.
“A team of trained professional event stewards.”
“Who puts the chairs out?” asked Matthew.
“You must belong to a very small church if they still have to put out chairs. Most churches are in old cinemas. They’ve got fixed seating. They could hire a team of professional event stewards, or cleaners, or electricians to cope with any practical problems, but Pastor Rob Otley, he’s the only Bible teacher in the world now.”
“What you need to find is a church that’s too small to afford a professional team to do everything,” said Matthew.
“How are they going to afford a pastor’s salary?”
“I’m training to be a youth worker,” said Joe.
“That’s not going to last much longer, either. They’ve started showing Christian cartoons and videos in cinema churches in the children’s services. It’s going to be really difficult to get a job now.”
“Is religion all about jobs and money?” asked Matthew.
“It’s not religion, it’s Jesus,” said the student.
“But is Jesus there to provide you with work and make you lots of money?” asked Matthew.
“It’s what he did for Pastor Rob Otley. No one’s ever had more money than him. The guy lives on a ship.”