Coming soon to The
Reformed Pastor is an in-depth essay on Baalistic patterns in the preaching
at many Presbyterian churches in Victoria. That essay is examining four sermons
on Romans and one on Hosea. Baalism is not a topic discussed often when critiquing
sermons, with categories such as Arminianism or semi-Pelagianism the usual
labels used in Reformed critiques. However, in the Old Testament, a constant
refrain from the prophets is the worship of Baal by the Israelites. A steady
stream of modern commentators, including Don Carson and David Wells, are
beginning to identify similar patterns in evangelicalism. As I have been
working on that essay, Rev Archer from Woori Yallock Presbyterian preached a
sermon on Gen 4:17–5:32 that illustrates perfectly how the theology of Baal can
dominate a sermon without it being readily apparent.
Baalism does not deny
God, but distorts God. Christ can be mentioned and Reformed doctrines referred
to but the operative theology is often Baalism. A reliable way to diagnose
theological distortion in preaching is not to ask whether Christ is mentioned,
affirmed, or honoured, but to ask a more unsettling question: What happens
if Christ is removed from the sermon? If the sermon collapses, Christ is
necessary. If it largely stands, Christ has been rendered optional. This
diagnostic is especially important when assessing preaching on Genesis 4–5, a
passage designed to leave the hearer with no refuge except divine mercy.
Structurally, this
sermon does not deny Christ; it reassigns Him. Christ is revealed as the
fulfiller of Seth’s hope, the giver of rest, the rewarder of faith, and the
culmination of a godly line. All of this is true. But He is not presented as
the only escape from Adam’s curse, the sole conqueror of death, or the
necessary replacement for every failed refuge. Christ crowns what is already
viable rather than rescuing what is otherwise doomed. That is not denial. It is
the downgrading of necessity to preference.
In this sermon,
disturbingly much would still stand:
Christ would be missed, but not required.
Genesis 4–5 is a verdict text. It announces the consequences of Adam’s sin, traces the escalation of violence, records the flourishing of human culture without God, and then hammers home a relentless refrain: “and he died.” The genealogies of Cain and Seth do not offer trajectories to imitate or legacies to manage, as the sermon suggests; they pronounce judgment. Even the godly line dies. The text strips humanity of every illusion of permanence, safety, and self-salvation. Its purpose is not to instruct but to convict the people of God of impending death, so that hope, when it comes, must come from outside human history altogether.
This is precisely where Baalism enters theology. Baalism, biblically speaking, is not first the worship of a false god but the provision of false refuges under judgment. Baal offers places to stand when Yahweh is judging: systems, techniques, identities, and practices that promise stability while death still reigns. Baal does not deny God; he competes with Him by redefining where security lies.
The sermon under consideration here by Rev Archer is orthodox in confession and earnest in intent, yet when examined through the “removal test,” it reveals Baal logic operating beneath evangelical language. If Christ were removed from the sermon, much of it would still function. The contrast between Cain’s line and Seth’s line would remain intelligible. The warnings about culture would still apply. The calls to “call on the name of the Lord,” to “walk with God,” to pursue faithful formation, and to leave a godly legacy would all remain actionable. The sermon would still instruct, caution, and motivate. Christ would be missed, but He would not be required.
In Reformed covenantal preaching, Christ is necessary only when every other refuge has been destroyed. John Calvin understands this instinctively in his handling of Genesis 5. When Calvin dwells on the repeated phrase “and he died,” he does not explain it away or soften its force. He uses it to strip the hearer of every conceivable standing place: moral excellence, covenant lineage, cultural achievement, longevity, dignity. Long life, for Calvin, is not a blessing that mitigates death but a prolonged demonstration of the curse. He leaves the reader exposed. There is nowhere to stand. Only then can Christ appear, not as fulfilment or reward, but as the sole refuge from Adam’s sentence.
Archer’s sermon does the opposite. It continually supplies places to stand. Seth’s line becomes a safer lineage. Calling on the Lord becomes a stabilising practice. Walking with God becomes a sustaining posture. Faithful formation becomes a way of shaping the future. Legacy becomes something that endures death rather than being shattered by it. None of these are false in themselves, but together they function as supports beneath the hearer. Judgment is acknowledged, but it is padded. Death is named, but it is not allowed to rule.
This is Baalism in its most subtle and dangerous form. Baal does not remove Christ; he ensures Christ is no longer the only thing holding you up. Christ is retained as fulfiller, confirmer, and rewarder, but not as the necessary answer to an otherwise insoluble problem. He becomes an option that crowns a viable way of life rather than the only escape from a doomed humanity. ,
Underlying Baalism is a denial of the consequences of the total depravity of humanity. Only Christ has an answer to our total depravity and this reveals why sermons that allow any softening of sin, or refuges for sinners to hide behind are so deadly to the soul.
The sermon’s use of illustrations reinforces this logic. The dated Edwards/Jukes comparison reframes genealogy as outcome-based moral inheritance rather than covenant preservation by grace. Its dubious historical basis, rooted in early eugenics thinking and sociological determinism, only heightens the problem. The schooling comparison further shifts the issue from worship and judgment to influence and formation. In both cases, the hearer is trained to manage threats rather than to despair of self-salvation. Fear is redirected from death and curse to legacy and responsibility. That redirection is the lifeblood of Baalism.
The result is a sermon that lectures rather than preaches. It explains judgment without ever placing the hearer under it. It resolves tension before it can wound. It informs without condemning. And because the verdict never fully lands, Christ never becomes unavoidable. He is honoured, but He is not needed in order for the sermon’s exhortations to make sense.
This is why the sermon feels slightly weak without being overtly wrong. Its fault is not heresy, imbalance, or tone. Its fault is structural. By preserving multiple refuges beneath judgment, it renders Christ functionally optional. And in biblical theology, that is the essence of Baalism.
Genesis 4–5 was written to strip humanity bare. It removes every refuge the human heart instinctively reaches for: lineage, longevity, culture, morality, even visible faithfulness. Its relentless verdict — “and he died” — is not explanatory but judicial. It leaves no place to stand within history itself. Only when that ground has given way does the promise of Christ become not attractive, not helpful, but unavoidable.
When preaching refuses to do that work, of placing hearers in absolute need of Christ, something far more serious than imbalance occurs. Judgment is acknowledged but domesticated. Death is named but never allowed to terrorize. And Christ, though honoured and affirmed, is quietly repositioned. He becomes the fulfiller of a viable path rather than the sole escape from a doomed one. That is not the denial of Christ. It is the neutralisation of His necessity.
This is where Baal truly enters. Not by open rebellion, not by false doctrine, but by offering places to stand while God is judging. Wherever hearers are left supported by legacy, formation, vigilance, or faithful walking, Baal has already secured his altar. Christ may still be preached, but He is no longer required.
That is the decisive critique of this sermon. Christ functions as garnish — reassuring, enriching, affirming — rather than as the only hope for a totally depraved humanity under Adam’s curse. And where Christ is no longer unavoidable, Baal has already found a home, even in the name of faithful preaching.
Everything said about Christ in this sermon is true. But Reformed theology is not only concerned with truthfulness, but with ordering. Christ must not merely be affirmed.
He must be inescapable if one wants to inherit eternal life.
In this sermon, Christ is affirmable without being unavoidable. The sermon can be viewed at the