Christian Perfection and the King James Bible

If you’re not in a church with Wesleyan heritage, you probably don’t know what Christian perfection is. Heck, even if you’re in a church with Wesleyan heritage, there’s a solid chance you haven’t heard about this particular doctrine. It’s not hard to see why. The name is pretty bad. Yes, fellow Wesleyan people, I said bad. Try to hang with me for a second. “Perfect” isn’t something most people see as either achievable or desirable in our era. Folk wisdom tells us that “nobody’s perfect.” Movies feature villains that want perfection in this world and are willing to fight, hurt, or kill people to find it (“The Lego Movie” and “Kubo and the Two Strings” both come to mind). Self-help books of all shades encourage us to accept the imperfections in this world, rather than lose our mind seeking perfection. Even a lot of contemporary church language is caught up in appreciating our “brokenness,” rather than hating ourselves for falling short. In the eyes of the average person, any doctrine including the word “perfection” is scary from the start.

To be fair, it’s pretty clear that Christian perfection was a controversial doctrine from its inception. When John Wesley (the founder of Methodism) started talking about it, a lot of his friends disagreed with it. His ministry partner and brother, Charles, seems to have had a different idea of what it was and how to achieve it. Even Wesley’s exhaustive explanation of the doctrine, A Plain Account of Christian Perfection, is a real challenge by anyone’s definition. It is a composite work that includes personal reflections, hymns, minutes from a conference that he attended, bits from sermons that he preached, journal entries from a person that he thinks may have achieved Christian perfection (right before they died), and arguments against people who claimed to have achieved Christian perfection that he didn’t think managed it (the most notable examples being Thomas Maxfield and George Bell). John went through seven different revisions of this booklet across his life as he added more and more content. It’s kinda like a scrapbook of his doctrine and how he’s come to understand it across his lifetime.

So, yeah, we’re dealing with something that’s challenging and difficult to articulate. To briefly summarize the doctrine, Wesley believed that, through the Holy Spirit, a mature Christian could reach a state where they would avoid willfully sinning. That was Christian perfection. These Christians could still sin through ignorance, mistake, or error, since their bodies and minds were still very much in this world, but their hearts would be so mature in the faith that God’s love would reside in them. THAT’S the core of the idea. If you want to know more about it in John’s words, I recommend his sermon “On Perfection” from the year 1740. It’s much more readable than Plain Account. If you don’t want to read more but think my explanation is way too generous for such a wildly-named doctrine, John’s words from one of his letters put it into words that suit modern people a little more readily:

Perfection is only another term for holiness, or the image of God in man

John Wesley (Letter to Rev. Mr. Dodd, The Works of John Wesley, 11:450-451)

Rather than argue about whether or not this particular doctrine is good or bad, I’d like to share a little revelation about why it takes the form that it does. I’ve always wondered, “Why did John choose that particular name? I mean, if the word “holiness” or “sanctification” accomplish the same thing, why not use one of them? That would have gone a long way with some of his detractors!” Well, reading through some of the sermons of Count Zinzendorf recently (a Wesley friend that, like many Wesley friends, had a falling out with John before the end of his life), and he cited Philippians 3:15 regarding a desire for Christians to become perfect. You can imagine my puzzlement. I flipped open my NIV Bible and checked the verse: “All of us, then, who are mature should take such a view of things. And if on some point you think differently, that too God will make clear to you.” Okay? What was Zinzendorf talking about? Was I reading a bad translation of his sermons? And then I realized that the NIV is hundreds of years away from the translations that were being used in the 1700s. Of course it doesn’t sound the same; it wasn’t what they were reading. I popped open what would have been more normative for the time, the KJV, and lo and behold: “Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded: and if in any thing ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you.” There was a “perfect” there historically that was translated differently today!

By no means do I think that’s a bad thing. Language changes, and translations change to keep up with the way that we speak. It looks like the Greek word, teleioi, is translated in different instances as either perfect, mature, or fully grown. But think about that! The fact that the New Testament has 7 instances of that word that all moved from “perfect” to something else over time is wild! And that’s not the only word that was translated away from “perfect” to something else. The KJV has the word “perfect” in it 129 times, versus the NIV’s 45 times. That’s almost three times the number of perfects! Now, obviously you’re going to have a different number of “perfects” depending on your Bible translation (NRSV- 41, NLT- 47, CSB- 32, ESV- 94), but with very few exceptions, most of us see the word “perfect” in our Bibles far less than 18th century Christians like John Wesley would have.

As a side note, I totally acknowledge that even though I stumbled onto this little tidbit while reading Count Zinzendorf, he was a German speaker and wouldn’t have regularly engaged the KJV. I’m woefully under-equipped to manage wading through historic German Bibles to get that primary source verification, but I’m going to assume that the translator of Zinzendorf’s sermons was accurate, which would mean that even German translations from the 18th century were more likely to use words like “perfect” than their modern equivalents are.

Why did John Wesley stick with the name “Christian perfection?” Well, he says in his Plain Account, “There is such a thing as perfection; for it is again and again mentioned in Scripture.” To modern readers, that’s a pretty hollow claim. There’s a couple well-known verses that reference perfection, but it’s usually referencing God, not people. Why would Wesley stake his whole idea on a word that doesn’t appear in the Bible as much as he acts like it does? Because in the translation that he was familiar with, it DID come up again and again. He saw the epistles as packed with references to Christian perfection! Language changes and Bible translators adapt, but it was a joy to see why a doctrine with such an inflammatory name got it’s name.

That OLD Church Music: Psalms

The split between contemporary and traditional worship is one of the great dividers of Protestant churches in our time.  If we’re being honest, a great deal of that split comes down to music.  Do you prefer singing soft rock from Christian radio stations?  Or do you prefer classical hymns from around the year 1700 until around 1970?  For a lot of people, the answer to that question determines what kind of service they’re going to be looking for.  But what is there for people that like the oldies?  I’m talking about traditional traditional music.  No, not that newfangled Gregorian chant.  I mean that really old stuff.  I’m talking about the psalms.

The English word “psalm” comes from the Greek word psalmos which was a type of sacred song that was sung to a harp.  In Hebrew, the book of Psalms is called tehallim.  It comes from the same root as the word “Hallelujah” (hll are the three letters both words are built around), and it means “praises.”  These aren’t poems.  They’re songs.  They’re meant to be sung during worship, usually by chant (which was the easiest way to get large groups to sing a song together before sheet music was widely available).  Not only were the psalms sung in Jewish worship (including during the time of Jesus), but they were so important to early Christians that a fair few councils in the first thousand years of Christianity went out of their way to encourage people not to sing anything other than the psalms of the Bible.  For example, canon 59 of the Council of Laodicea (held in 363 AD) reads, “No psalms composed by private individuals nor any uncanonical books may be read in the church,” (trans. Schaff).  That’s not to say you can’t find any hymns from these eras.  You certainly can, but mature Christians leaders were constantly calling Christians back to the basics.  Sing the psalms.  Before you start singing anything else, sing the psalms.

The particulars of congregational worship became less of a concern of the average person in the Middle Ages.  Every song (be it psalm or hymn) was sung in Latin, which the average person didn’t speak.  They couldn’t join in because they didn’t even know what was being sung.  Choir monks handled the singing duties on their behalf.  For the early Protestants, the Reformation wasn’t just about taking back the Bible; it was about taking back worship for the average person.  While some groups favored the use of hymns (Lutherans), Reformed and Anglican Christians stuck to the Book of Psalms.  It wasn’t until the 18th century that writers like Isaac Watts popularized and spread what we think of today as hymns in English-speaking countries.

That sense that we ought to be singing the psalms is pretty rare today.  While some of us favor guitars and some favor organs, there aren’t many that are particularly interested in singing psalms.  Which is a real shame!  For thousands of years, the psalms were the mainstays of Christian worship.  And why?  Did our ancestors lack the lyrical creativity that we have?  Were they too dull to come up with any real hit songs?  No!  They sang the Psalms because they didn’t think you could do any better than Scripture.  As great as hymns like A Mighty Fortress is My God (that one happens to be my favorite) might be , they’re not Scripture.  If there’s one little piece of worship music that sticks in a person’s head in a given week, why not have it be one of the songs that Jesus sang?  Why not have it be a psalm?

But what about our hymns?!?  What about trendy, newfangled pieces like “Rock of Ages” and even trendier pieces like “In Christ Alone”?  Is it time to get rid of them?  Of course not.  And if we’re being honest, I don’t think that’s a realistic fear at this point.  These are the songs we know.  We love them, and they’re quite good.  We don’t have to abandon them.  We could, however, afford to add the older oldies to our mix.  Take a minute today and find an arrangement of a psalm that you like.  Youtube is full of them.  There are orchestral arrangements, contemporary pieces, and even chants.  You’ll find something that you can enjoy.  Not that you’ll enjoy it all, of course, but you probably don’t like everything on the radio or in the hymnal either.  Even if it takes a few minutes, take the time to do it.  The psalms are your spiritual heritage, and they were made to be sung.  Give them a try!

Come, Holy Spirit by Ambrose (Modernized)

I’ve written previously about how old hymns are cool and it’s a shame more people don’t get the chance to sing them. One of the biggest barriers to enjoying these old hymns is their tune. No matter how theologically rich the lyrics might be and how cool the historical circumstances were, people aren’t going to enjoy a hymn if they don’t know how to sing it. I say this as someone who has been on both sides of the problem. I’ve pulled the most amazing worship music out of the dark corners of the world to share with my congregation and watched as they’ve sadly muddled through the thing, wondering why I picked something so weird. I’ve also been in the pews, desperately trying to figure out how on earth this weirdo song we’re singing this morning goes, wishing they’d have just stuck with “Amazing Grace.” New songs are hard, and new songs that are off the beaten path are even harder still. If we’re going to reintroduce some forgotten classics, we need a way to make them a little more familiar.

Back in the early days of hymnals, this wasn’t a problem. Hymnals were basically a book of poems with recommended tunes. In worship, you matched up a good tune to a good poem and BOOM! You had a hymn. So why not do that today?

This Pentecost, I reworked Ambrose’s classic hymn “Come, Holy Spirit” (Nunc Sancte nobis Spiritus) to the tune of “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less” (aka “Solid Rock”) and it was shockingly natural. I did have to tweak it in parts, add a line, and make a chorus, but I was delighted with how well it went on Sunday. For anyone looking for an ancient hymn that’s singable for Christians today, here you go!