In my last post, I started writing about the question of how Christians may and must engage the culture they live in, using recent addresses by Mark Dever and Tim Keller to help frame the tension that exists in evangelicalism. Today I want to move forward and start providing some direction for finding answers.
Answering this question is impossible, at least in the West, without referring to Richard Niebuhr's classic Christ and Culture. The book is full of flaws that have been very well identified by others, such as an inconsistent concept of "culture" and an inadequate views of Scripture and hermeneutics. But the book, with its fivefold typology for how Christians have approached cultural issues, continues to be useful for several reasons. First, everyone writing on the subject ever since refers to it. Second, it provides a good historical survey of significant church thinkers and their different positions. And third, it associates specific Scripture with different typological positions, which helps the reader see how different Christians come up with different approaches and support them with the Bible.
But Niebuhr's work suffers from two fatal flaws. He pits Scripture against itself, saying for example that 1 John is an example of "Christ against culture" and the Gospel of John is an example of "Christ the transformer of culture." He makes no attempt to synthesize, which is not helpful to anyone that views Scripture as ultimately authored by God and therefore self-consistent. And he puts his typology forward as if any of the categories were acceptable alternatives. There is little help in regard to which type is to be preferred, and it becomes plain to the thoughtful reader that in different historical and cultural situations certain types would be more appropriate than others. Christians in the Orissa state in India are being driven from their homes. Their response to and engagement with the culture will look different from the response of New Song Community Corporation in Harlem, and appropriately so.
This is where D. A. Carson's book Christ and Culture Revisited is so helpful. (Interestingly, both Mark Dever and Tim Keller endorse this book. Does that account for some of the softening of language and convergence I have heard more recently? It is entirely speculation on my part.) Carson begins by reviewing and critiquing Niebuhr, outlines an approach rooted in biblical theology, moves on to engage with postmodern thinkers that might question the whole project of the church standing apart from culture and engaging it, and then applies the biblical metanarrative to some cultural concepts that Americans may think they understand but probably do not: freedom, democracy, equality, etc.
I have seminary-trained friends who have read the book and shrugged their shoulders at it as if to say, "What's the big deal? A call to do biblical theology -- haven't we read dozens of books along those lines?" I must disagree. Carson makes two significant contributions to our understanding of Christ-and-culture questions in his book. First, he reminds us that any approach we adopt needs to engage the entirety of Scripture, and it needs to understand how Scripture hangs together well enough to avoid yanking passages out of context. And second, he actually shows us how to do what he is talking about.
So for example, when someone uses the language of "redeeming culture" by appealing to the cultural mandate, Carson might gently chastise them. You mean well in saying such things, but your understanding of redemption is flawed and needs to be informed by biblical eschatology. But on the other hand, Carson would exhort those who are indifferent to issues of politics, economics, or the fine arts due to wanting to separate from the world to look more closely at their doctrine of creation and God's intent to make all things new. It is a nuanced and helpful approach to Christ-and-culture questions that is thoroughly rooted in Scripture and also allows for flexibility across cultural and historical situations.
Seeing the big picture of the Scriptures, grasping the major plot points of the Bible and mining them for their theological significance, understanding the biblical metanarrative -- this is the first and most important key. We have not yet answered the "may" and "must" questions of cultural engagement (and we may not be able to). But this is the right framework from which to approach such questions.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Christ and Culture
When Mark Dever critiqued the idea that Christians can somehow "redeem culture" in his address at the 2008 Together for the Gospel conference, there were reverberations felt both in that room and beyond. He has a point: when we read the Scriptures, the world is only fully transformed when the Lord returns and makes all things new. But part of the thrust of his talk seemed to be that cultural engagement and transformation may be legitimate activities for individual Christians, but not necessarily for the church.
Flash forward a few weeks to another conference, the Dwell Conference in New York City hosted by Redeemer Presbyterian and Acts 29. The thrust of the conference was how to live incarnationally in urban contexts for the good of the city and for the glory of God. This sort of conference is precisely the sort of place that language of "redeeming culture" is heard. And the emphasis was not simply on how individual Christians are to engage and transform, but how the church is to do so. Listen especially to Ed Stetzer's and Eric Mason's talks, but also Tim Keller's on persuasion.
There is a real tension here. Mark Dever certainly sounded as if he were critiquing a big part of what the Dwell Conference was about. Tim Keller has certainly used the language of cultural redemption in the past (and others continue to do so, including Tullian Tchividjian of New City Church at his blog). And it is more than merely a theological or hypothetical argument. What should churches appropriately be involved in? Even more important, how must the church engage the world around it in order to be faithful to Scripture?
I find it interesting to note that Dever admitted that he employed hyperbole at T4G in this interview with Ed Stetzer (if you are impatient, skip ahead to the 4 minute mark). In this video for the Gospel Coalition, he sounds out and out Keller-like in his unpacking of the gospel. And at Dwell, Keller deliberately backed away from the language of "redeeming culture," though without backing away from cultural engagement and transformation. So perhaps Drs. Dever and Keller are not quite so far apart as it seems at first. But the questions still remain: How may churches engage culture? How must churches engage culture? Is there one way to answer these questions? How do we remain faithful to Scripture?
I do not intend to even attempt comprehensive answers. That would be rash and arrogant. But in the next few posts I can write about the issues and suggest some directions that we might take. So that is what I intend to do.
Flash forward a few weeks to another conference, the Dwell Conference in New York City hosted by Redeemer Presbyterian and Acts 29. The thrust of the conference was how to live incarnationally in urban contexts for the good of the city and for the glory of God. This sort of conference is precisely the sort of place that language of "redeeming culture" is heard. And the emphasis was not simply on how individual Christians are to engage and transform, but how the church is to do so. Listen especially to Ed Stetzer's and Eric Mason's talks, but also Tim Keller's on persuasion.
There is a real tension here. Mark Dever certainly sounded as if he were critiquing a big part of what the Dwell Conference was about. Tim Keller has certainly used the language of cultural redemption in the past (and others continue to do so, including Tullian Tchividjian of New City Church at his blog). And it is more than merely a theological or hypothetical argument. What should churches appropriately be involved in? Even more important, how must the church engage the world around it in order to be faithful to Scripture?
I find it interesting to note that Dever admitted that he employed hyperbole at T4G in this interview with Ed Stetzer (if you are impatient, skip ahead to the 4 minute mark). In this video for the Gospel Coalition, he sounds out and out Keller-like in his unpacking of the gospel. And at Dwell, Keller deliberately backed away from the language of "redeeming culture," though without backing away from cultural engagement and transformation. So perhaps Drs. Dever and Keller are not quite so far apart as it seems at first. But the questions still remain: How may churches engage culture? How must churches engage culture? Is there one way to answer these questions? How do we remain faithful to Scripture?
I do not intend to even attempt comprehensive answers. That would be rash and arrogant. But in the next few posts I can write about the issues and suggest some directions that we might take. So that is what I intend to do.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Whom Do You Love More?
Tim Challies recently posted about a question his children asked him: "Daddy, who do you love more, Mommy or us?" Tim writes, "I thought for just a moment and told them the truth. They cried." They cried because Tim answered honestly (and correctly in my estimation) that he loves his wife more. He tried to explain how that's the way it is supposed to be, and how it's better for them, and how one day they would understand more fully.
I commend the post to you, and I don't want to duplicate Tim's reasoning here. What has been just as interesting as the original post are the comments. Many have commented in support of how Tim handled things, but there have been many posts criticizing Tim's answer. Most of the criticisms have centered around priorities and love not going together, or around undermining a child's sense of being loved unconditionally. I'm repeating my comments in modified form here, not to replace but to support and supplement what Tim has already written.
The love between a husband and wife is a high and holy thing. Marriage is called something that God has brought about, that God has joined together and man is not to divide (Matt 19:6), a one flesh relationship of leaving and cleaving (Gen 2:24). Christian marriage is instituted by God to reveal something of the relationship of Christ and His Church (Eph 5:22-33). Note that when Christ says that He came not to bring peace but division within families, the relationship that He leaves unmentioned is the relationship between husband and wife (Matt 10:34-39).
Where in all of Scripture is the love between parent and child put on the same level as that between husband and wife? An appeal to the love between the Father and Son will not suffice — analogies with intertrinitarian relationships break down and should not be pressed further than Scripture itself presses them.
I commend the post to you, and I don't want to duplicate Tim's reasoning here. What has been just as interesting as the original post are the comments. Many have commented in support of how Tim handled things, but there have been many posts criticizing Tim's answer. Most of the criticisms have centered around priorities and love not going together, or around undermining a child's sense of being loved unconditionally. I'm repeating my comments in modified form here, not to replace but to support and supplement what Tim has already written.
The love between a husband and wife is a high and holy thing. Marriage is called something that God has brought about, that God has joined together and man is not to divide (Matt 19:6), a one flesh relationship of leaving and cleaving (Gen 2:24). Christian marriage is instituted by God to reveal something of the relationship of Christ and His Church (Eph 5:22-33). Note that when Christ says that He came not to bring peace but division within families, the relationship that He leaves unmentioned is the relationship between husband and wife (Matt 10:34-39).
Where in all of Scripture is the love between parent and child put on the same level as that between husband and wife? An appeal to the love between the Father and Son will not suffice — analogies with intertrinitarian relationships break down and should not be pressed further than Scripture itself presses them.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
The Importance of Reading
In his classic book Spiritual Leadership, J. Oswald Sanders has this to say about reading: "The man who desires to grow spiritually and intellectually will be constantly at his books... The determination to spend a minimum of half an hour a day in reading worthwhile books that provide food for the soul and further mental and spiritual development will prove richly rewarding." Lest Sanders be accused of self-interest (he did after all make the above statements in a book), a commitment to reading seems to have consistently characterized spiritual leaders, starting with the apostle Paul and continuing to the present day in the ministries of pastors such as Tim Keller, John Piper, and Mark Driscoll.
Following Sanders' advice has never been hard for me because I have always read voraciously. It is so important to me that I include the four or five books I am currently juggling as an element on this blog. But not everyone functions that way; I know many pastors who rarely read, and when they do read it is very practical "how to do ministry" reading that is easy to breeze through and digest.
Why is reading so important? I suggest there are at least five good reasons to make a habit out of reading, to carve out time in the morning, during the commute, or before going to bed to devote to reading.
Following Sanders' advice has never been hard for me because I have always read voraciously. It is so important to me that I include the four or five books I am currently juggling as an element on this blog. But not everyone functions that way; I know many pastors who rarely read, and when they do read it is very practical "how to do ministry" reading that is easy to breeze through and digest.
Why is reading so important? I suggest there are at least five good reasons to make a habit out of reading, to carve out time in the morning, during the commute, or before going to bed to devote to reading.
- It exercises the mind. This is true not just of theology, but of history, science, or any genre of book that forces you to think. Sadly there are many in our churches who cannot follow the arguments made in Paul's letters because they have been spoonfed what to think. And there are many who make unwise or uninformed decisions in areas ranging from politics to healthcare to grocery shopping because they have never had to stop and reason things through. Reading is a powerful corrective to our reluctance to reason.
- It nourishes the heart. I am not talking about the sentimentality of so much of what passes for devotional literature. Reading a missionary biography or meditations on Scripture fortifies the soul for those times of suffering and hardship that inevitably come our way. We live in a quick fix society, but in developing spiritual maturity there are no quick fixes. Reading can help fertilize the soil of our hearts so that we bear much fruit.
- It stimulates the imagination. Too often when Christians talk about reading, we overlook fiction and poetry. That is a mistake. Our God is a creative being, and He made us in His image. We are creative beings as well, equipped with the faculty of imagination, and God is glorified when we develop it. We need to read fiction -- and not merely the mindless pageturners that often dominate the bestseller lists. We need to read great fiction both of the past and the present, in which the words have been carefully chosen, in which themes are developed and explored, in which characters become three-dimensional rather than being as flat as the paper on which books are printed.
- It makes us better with language. Recently a friend from another country asked me how she could improve her English language skills. I encouraged her to read and write. Mastery of language comes from consistent exposure to it. Mastery of language that proves supple, attractive, even persuasive comes from consistent exposure as well. To become a speaker to whom others enjoy listening, or a writer whom others enjoy reading, requires reading good writing.
- It helps us understand people. Reading another person's writing opens a window on how that other person thinks. Reading from a wide variety of times, genres, and cultures opens many such windows. When we read and our minds are stretched, our hearts moved, and our imaginations stirred, we will come to understand the thoughts and feelings of other people better.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
"Revival," Deception, and a Great Fall (2 of 2)
In the previous post, I began to write about the Lakeland revivals and recent news about Todd Bentley's ministry and marriage. So far, this may seem pretty outlandish stuff to many non-Pentecostal evangelicals. And Bentley's ministry is a far cry from my own -- our hairline is about the only thing we have in common. So how is this a warning to us?
Let me suggest that it is easier to deceive American evangelicals than we might think. It does not need to be outrageous claims of healing and overwrought big-tent-revival-blaring-music experiences to be alluring. For the typical middle-class evangelical that I know, what entices and allures is more likely to be an economic system or political party. That statement is not meant to focus on the Right or the Left; the division in evangelicalism politically has been well-documented at this point and has been brought to the surface by the current presidential campaign (as shown by the blog response to Rick Warren's Civil Forum).
Or it could be a church health strategy. Witness the reality that after the Reveal study, Willow Creek decided to focus more on discipleship and teaching not because of searching the Scriptures, but because of a social science survey. Or it could be the country club mentality to church that poisons the life of so many congregations and paralyzes them in matters of outreach, compassion ministry, and missions.
As I survey the evangelical landscape, it seems to me that we are an easy people to snooker. We need to develop discernment. According to Hebrews 5:14, discernment is a sign of maturity. Putting it all together, that means that we American evangelicals on the whole are not a very mature people. We need to grow up. We need to ingest a steady diet of the Word of God, seasoned with a daily discipline of prayer, supplemented by sitting under the preaching of the Word, accompanied by the presence and power of the Spirit of God as He accompanies the Word that He breathed out.
And as a minister of the Word of God, I need to be on my guard against building personal kingdoms rather than the kingdom of God. That is the sure road to pride, and as James 4:6 reminds us, God opposes the proud. Proverbs 16:18 warns that pride is all too frequently followed by moral failure. I will not pretend to know Todd Bentley's heart. But I know the claims that he made, I see the failure of his marriage, and whether he succumbed to pride or not, the Scriptures put me on my guard.
That is how Todd Bentley's fraudulent ministry and personal failure serve to warn us. May God bring healing and reconciliation to Bentley's marriage, may He preserve us from such a fall, and may He grant us all discernment and repentance.
Let me suggest that it is easier to deceive American evangelicals than we might think. It does not need to be outrageous claims of healing and overwrought big-tent-revival-blaring-music experiences to be alluring. For the typical middle-class evangelical that I know, what entices and allures is more likely to be an economic system or political party. That statement is not meant to focus on the Right or the Left; the division in evangelicalism politically has been well-documented at this point and has been brought to the surface by the current presidential campaign (as shown by the blog response to Rick Warren's Civil Forum).
Or it could be a church health strategy. Witness the reality that after the Reveal study, Willow Creek decided to focus more on discipleship and teaching not because of searching the Scriptures, but because of a social science survey. Or it could be the country club mentality to church that poisons the life of so many congregations and paralyzes them in matters of outreach, compassion ministry, and missions.
As I survey the evangelical landscape, it seems to me that we are an easy people to snooker. We need to develop discernment. According to Hebrews 5:14, discernment is a sign of maturity. Putting it all together, that means that we American evangelicals on the whole are not a very mature people. We need to grow up. We need to ingest a steady diet of the Word of God, seasoned with a daily discipline of prayer, supplemented by sitting under the preaching of the Word, accompanied by the presence and power of the Spirit of God as He accompanies the Word that He breathed out.
And as a minister of the Word of God, I need to be on my guard against building personal kingdoms rather than the kingdom of God. That is the sure road to pride, and as James 4:6 reminds us, God opposes the proud. Proverbs 16:18 warns that pride is all too frequently followed by moral failure. I will not pretend to know Todd Bentley's heart. But I know the claims that he made, I see the failure of his marriage, and whether he succumbed to pride or not, the Scriptures put me on my guard.
That is how Todd Bentley's fraudulent ministry and personal failure serve to warn us. May God bring healing and reconciliation to Bentley's marriage, may He preserve us from such a fall, and may He grant us all discernment and repentance.
"Revival," Deception, and a Great Fall (1 of 2)
The Lakeland revival has generated national attention, especially among Pentecostals but also within the mainstream media (for example, here and here). But this week the staff and fans of Todd Bentley's ministry received unwelcome news: Bentley and his wife are separating, and he will no longer be involved in the Lakeland meetings.
How did this happen? My intention in writing this post is not to dogpile on a man and ministry that have already received mountains of criticism. Nor is it to give the decisive answer into what has gone wrong in Lakeland. I simply desire to raise a few questions and reflect on how this situation should serve as a warning to Christians everywhere.
Bentley has made some wild claims about himself and his ministry: an angel spoke to him and commissioned him in a hotel room, thousands of people healed, several dozen people raised from the dead. Some may wonder how on earth such a ministry came to become so well-known and even popular. At least part of the answer is this: Despite the strangeness of his practice and wildness of his claims, many people have come away from these Lakeland meetings feeling that they have met with God. And someone who believes that God still heals, and who feels they have no other place to turn, might be willing to at least give Bentley a chance.
That is the situation Bill Dembski and his family found themselves in. They have a severely autistic son, and when Bentley came to Denton, Texas, they decided to go because God still heals, and He is free to use whatever means He sees fit. Dembski's name may sound familiar to some; he is a leading proponent of Intelligent Design and has written several books on the subject. Readers should also know that he is a friend from many years ago, when he did post-doc research at Northwestern University and was the instructor for my first philosophy class. And what Bill and his family discovered was a fake. Bill is very intelligent, but also very open to God working through unexpected means. When he shared his experiences, that sealed my evaluation of Bentley and the Lakeland revival.
None of Bentley's claims were verifiable. He also employed some ministry practices that some find questionable, including violence. The Baptist Press has helpfully documented his ministry and critics. A video of Bentley kicking a man with stage four colon cancer has been widely viewed on YouTube. His ministry is as obvious an example as I can think of today of taking advantage of gullible, spiritually hungry people who lack biblical knowledge and discernment. Even Charisma Magazine, a key outlet for the Charismatic and Pentecostal movement, has come to this conclusion.
I will continue with further reflection in my next post.
How did this happen? My intention in writing this post is not to dogpile on a man and ministry that have already received mountains of criticism. Nor is it to give the decisive answer into what has gone wrong in Lakeland. I simply desire to raise a few questions and reflect on how this situation should serve as a warning to Christians everywhere.
Bentley has made some wild claims about himself and his ministry: an angel spoke to him and commissioned him in a hotel room, thousands of people healed, several dozen people raised from the dead. Some may wonder how on earth such a ministry came to become so well-known and even popular. At least part of the answer is this: Despite the strangeness of his practice and wildness of his claims, many people have come away from these Lakeland meetings feeling that they have met with God. And someone who believes that God still heals, and who feels they have no other place to turn, might be willing to at least give Bentley a chance.
That is the situation Bill Dembski and his family found themselves in. They have a severely autistic son, and when Bentley came to Denton, Texas, they decided to go because God still heals, and He is free to use whatever means He sees fit. Dembski's name may sound familiar to some; he is a leading proponent of Intelligent Design and has written several books on the subject. Readers should also know that he is a friend from many years ago, when he did post-doc research at Northwestern University and was the instructor for my first philosophy class. And what Bill and his family discovered was a fake. Bill is very intelligent, but also very open to God working through unexpected means. When he shared his experiences, that sealed my evaluation of Bentley and the Lakeland revival.
None of Bentley's claims were verifiable. He also employed some ministry practices that some find questionable, including violence. The Baptist Press has helpfully documented his ministry and critics. A video of Bentley kicking a man with stage four colon cancer has been widely viewed on YouTube. His ministry is as obvious an example as I can think of today of taking advantage of gullible, spiritually hungry people who lack biblical knowledge and discernment. Even Charisma Magazine, a key outlet for the Charismatic and Pentecostal movement, has come to this conclusion.
I will continue with further reflection in my next post.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Another Public Transportation Experience
It must be the season for it. I was riding the Staten Island Rail yesterday on my way to the ferry, once again reading a book, when I glanced up and noticed a rider who did not quite fit in with the rest of the commuters. He could not have been more than 22, was wearing dark slacks with a short-sleeved white collared shirt and a conservative tie. His plain haircut and red hair screamed that he was not from Staten Island. As he stood holding onto a pole, he looked at the subway map on the wall of the car, and then at the other passengers, with a look both anxious and furtive. I did not need to see the nametag on his shirt pocket to know that he was a Mormon missionary.
He leaned over to a sitting passenger to ask a question. I finished a paragraph, shut my book, and slipped it into my backpack. I began to pray that God would protect the heart and mind of this other passenger, confuse the tongue of the Mormon missionary, and give me an opportunity to become part of the conversation. Eavesdropping is not normally behavior that I encourage, but I strained to listen in. I grinned when I heard the discussion. The passenger was thoroughly against formal religion and more interested in whether the Mormons believe that dogs have spirits and will join us in heaven. He was also eager to talk, such that the missionary could not disengage from the conversation. After several minutes, the passenger got off. Next I felt a pang of disappointment. At the next stop the missionary got off as well, before I could engage him.
How does a kid from Utah who believes a false gospel find the courage to start a conversation about spiritual matters with a complete stranger; but most evangelical Christians that I know, who are genuinely converted as far as I can tell, who believe in the biblical gospel, struggle to talk openly about their faith with friends, coworkers, and family members? Too often I must include myself in this evaluation. Perhaps the sting of rejection is less with a stranger (though I do not know many Christians who substitute contact evangelism in public spaces for evangelism in the context of relationships). Perhaps the labor of investing in personal relationships and modeling integrity, or the risk of vulnerability and authenticity, are wages many of us are unwilling to pay.
But this is now twice in the course of a week that I have encountered some sort of evangelistic work on public transportation, after over two years of not seeing anything at all. And although I am persuaded that this sort of effort is not the most effective means at our disposal, I think there is heartwork that God is doing in me through these experiences in regard to what I value and what I am willing to risk.
He leaned over to a sitting passenger to ask a question. I finished a paragraph, shut my book, and slipped it into my backpack. I began to pray that God would protect the heart and mind of this other passenger, confuse the tongue of the Mormon missionary, and give me an opportunity to become part of the conversation. Eavesdropping is not normally behavior that I encourage, but I strained to listen in. I grinned when I heard the discussion. The passenger was thoroughly against formal religion and more interested in whether the Mormons believe that dogs have spirits and will join us in heaven. He was also eager to talk, such that the missionary could not disengage from the conversation. After several minutes, the passenger got off. Next I felt a pang of disappointment. At the next stop the missionary got off as well, before I could engage him.
How does a kid from Utah who believes a false gospel find the courage to start a conversation about spiritual matters with a complete stranger; but most evangelical Christians that I know, who are genuinely converted as far as I can tell, who believe in the biblical gospel, struggle to talk openly about their faith with friends, coworkers, and family members? Too often I must include myself in this evaluation. Perhaps the sting of rejection is less with a stranger (though I do not know many Christians who substitute contact evangelism in public spaces for evangelism in the context of relationships). Perhaps the labor of investing in personal relationships and modeling integrity, or the risk of vulnerability and authenticity, are wages many of us are unwilling to pay.
But this is now twice in the course of a week that I have encountered some sort of evangelistic work on public transportation, after over two years of not seeing anything at all. And although I am persuaded that this sort of effort is not the most effective means at our disposal, I think there is heartwork that God is doing in me through these experiences in regard to what I value and what I am willing to risk.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
In the Wake of a Street Preacher
I was reading a book on the Staten Island Ferry while on my way to Lower Manhattan. I saw the police officers walking toward me but not to me -- they were looking at something behind me. Only then did I hear the voice. I turned to look over my shoulder. It was a street preacher, loudly proclaiming the gospel on the ferry. He was dressed as many other commuters in slacks and a collared shirt, but carrying a large black Bible in his hand and declaring to all within earshot that they were sinners in danger of judgment who needed a Savior.
I cringed inside and tried to focus on my book, waiting for the officers to tell him to stop. But they did not tell him to stop. They stood by in case anything else happened, but they let him keep going. Conversations became quiet and eventually stopped; it seemed that people were either listening to this preacher, or hoping that through their silence they would convince him to be silent as well.
As he continued to preach, I wrestled with what was happening inside of me. Truth be told, I was embarrassed. I live in a place in which evangelical Christianity is largely irrelevant, in which stereotypes of evangelicals as Bible-thumping religious crazies are alive and well. And I do not want to have to deal with overcoming hostilities in addition to those that inherently come with preaching Christ and Him crucified (I Cor 1:23; I Pet 2:8). If someone is going to take offense with me, let it be because of the gospel itself. I am not convinced that in a place such as New York City, this kind of street preaching does not do more harm than good. I have done my fair share of contact evangelism on boardwalks and in shopping malls and college dorms, so I thought I could say that my discomfort was with the effectiveness of this preacher's chosen method.
Or could I? How sure was I that my discomfort was not because I did not want to be inconvenienced myself, because I did not want to deal with snide comments made by those sitting next to me, because I did not want to identify with that man carrying that Bible speaking in that loud voice? Did that mean that I was also embarrassed to identify publicly with Christ and His gospel? My heart is wicked (Jer 17:9), and if even the apostle Peter could stumble (Matt 26:69-75; Gal 2:11-13), then I have much reason to mistrust my own motives.
Here is my question for anyone who is reading: What would you have done or felt? I began to pray that some on that boat would hear this preacher's words, fall under conviction of their sins, and trust in Christ. And I steeled myself for comments that passengers sitting near me might make -- I was prepared to say that while I was uncomfortable with the method, I fully embraced the message. No comments came. Eventually I went back to my book. But my wrestling with what was happening in my heart continues.
I cringed inside and tried to focus on my book, waiting for the officers to tell him to stop. But they did not tell him to stop. They stood by in case anything else happened, but they let him keep going. Conversations became quiet and eventually stopped; it seemed that people were either listening to this preacher, or hoping that through their silence they would convince him to be silent as well.
As he continued to preach, I wrestled with what was happening inside of me. Truth be told, I was embarrassed. I live in a place in which evangelical Christianity is largely irrelevant, in which stereotypes of evangelicals as Bible-thumping religious crazies are alive and well. And I do not want to have to deal with overcoming hostilities in addition to those that inherently come with preaching Christ and Him crucified (I Cor 1:23; I Pet 2:8). If someone is going to take offense with me, let it be because of the gospel itself. I am not convinced that in a place such as New York City, this kind of street preaching does not do more harm than good. I have done my fair share of contact evangelism on boardwalks and in shopping malls and college dorms, so I thought I could say that my discomfort was with the effectiveness of this preacher's chosen method.
Or could I? How sure was I that my discomfort was not because I did not want to be inconvenienced myself, because I did not want to deal with snide comments made by those sitting next to me, because I did not want to identify with that man carrying that Bible speaking in that loud voice? Did that mean that I was also embarrassed to identify publicly with Christ and His gospel? My heart is wicked (Jer 17:9), and if even the apostle Peter could stumble (Matt 26:69-75; Gal 2:11-13), then I have much reason to mistrust my own motives.
Here is my question for anyone who is reading: What would you have done or felt? I began to pray that some on that boat would hear this preacher's words, fall under conviction of their sins, and trust in Christ. And I steeled myself for comments that passengers sitting near me might make -- I was prepared to say that while I was uncomfortable with the method, I fully embraced the message. No comments came. Eventually I went back to my book. But my wrestling with what was happening in my heart continues.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Article Eight
The last few posts have been about the EFCA revision of our doctrinal statement. I have wanted to demonstrate, however briefly, why this revision is not only a good thing, but even something worth celebrating. The final reason for celebration is Article Eight of the revision, which I will quote in full here:
We believe that God's justifying grace must not be separated from His sanctifying power and purpose. God commands us to love Him supremely and others sacrificially, and to live out our faith with care for one another, compassion toward the poor and justice for the oppressed. With God’s Word, the Spirit’s power, and fervent prayer in Christ’s name, we are to combat the spiritual forces of evil. In obedience to Christ’s commission, we are to make disciples among all people, always bearing witness to the gospel in word and deed.
One of the questions that defines the ethos of the Free Church, that the founders of this movement of churches asked one another, is this: How goes your walk? Personal and corporate holiness have always lain at the heart of what it means to be the Free Church. Regeneration should be followed by progressive sanctification. At least in part, the absence of evidences of regeneration, namely personal holiness, drove the formation of the precursors to the EFCA, the free churches of Scandinavia.
In our 1950 Statement of Faith, the EFCA had no more extensive statement on sanctification than this in Article Four, that one ministry of the Holy Spirit is to "empower the believer for godly living and service." But no necessary connection between regeneration and sanctification was made. It was assumed and of vital importance to the writers of the old SOF, but it was not explicitly stated that the Spirit produces holiness in everyone whom He regenerates. Unfortunately that can lead (and has led in many a church) to an "easy believism" approach to the gospel such that church members who profess faith in Christ show little and even no evidence of Christlike character or Godward appetites. And that opens up a whole host of problems that keep a church from being biblical and healthy.
Article Eight of the revised SOF takes this problem head on. Those who are justified are necessarily in the process of being sanctified. And the outlines of this sanctification are drawn: love for God and one another, sacrificial living, desire for Christian community, concern for justice and mercy, spiritual warfare, gospel living in word and deed. My personal attachment to Article Eight is such that I would have traded away every other gain I have written about in the revision process in order to keep this.
Of course, I did not need to. And I thank my God for it. I am grateful for this revised Statement of Faith, and I count myself blessed to be part of the EFCA.
We believe that God's justifying grace must not be separated from His sanctifying power and purpose. God commands us to love Him supremely and others sacrificially, and to live out our faith with care for one another, compassion toward the poor and justice for the oppressed. With God’s Word, the Spirit’s power, and fervent prayer in Christ’s name, we are to combat the spiritual forces of evil. In obedience to Christ’s commission, we are to make disciples among all people, always bearing witness to the gospel in word and deed.
One of the questions that defines the ethos of the Free Church, that the founders of this movement of churches asked one another, is this: How goes your walk? Personal and corporate holiness have always lain at the heart of what it means to be the Free Church. Regeneration should be followed by progressive sanctification. At least in part, the absence of evidences of regeneration, namely personal holiness, drove the formation of the precursors to the EFCA, the free churches of Scandinavia.
In our 1950 Statement of Faith, the EFCA had no more extensive statement on sanctification than this in Article Four, that one ministry of the Holy Spirit is to "empower the believer for godly living and service." But no necessary connection between regeneration and sanctification was made. It was assumed and of vital importance to the writers of the old SOF, but it was not explicitly stated that the Spirit produces holiness in everyone whom He regenerates. Unfortunately that can lead (and has led in many a church) to an "easy believism" approach to the gospel such that church members who profess faith in Christ show little and even no evidence of Christlike character or Godward appetites. And that opens up a whole host of problems that keep a church from being biblical and healthy.
Article Eight of the revised SOF takes this problem head on. Those who are justified are necessarily in the process of being sanctified. And the outlines of this sanctification are drawn: love for God and one another, sacrificial living, desire for Christian community, concern for justice and mercy, spiritual warfare, gospel living in word and deed. My personal attachment to Article Eight is such that I would have traded away every other gain I have written about in the revision process in order to keep this.
Of course, I did not need to. And I thank my God for it. I am grateful for this revised Statement of Faith, and I count myself blessed to be part of the EFCA.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
The Things We Smoothed Out
Another reason for appreciating the revised EFCA Statement of Faith is the way certain inconsistencies and ambiguities were smoothed out. Take for example the centuries-old tension between Arminianism and Calvinism. Is the EFCA Arminian -- do we believe that conversion precedes regeneration? If you read articles four and eight of the 1950 SOF, you might think so. But then if you read articles five and six, you might think that the Free Church is in fact Calvinist -- that we believe that regeneration precedes conversion. So which is it? Or is it neither?
In fact, it's neither. The EFCA has never taken a position on Calvinism or Arminianism, not because the debate is not important, but because we have resolved not to divide over it. And as a Calvinist who values unity with my Arminian brothers and sisters, I am glad for that stance. The goal of the 1950 SOF was not to define the ordo salutis, but rather to define the composition of the church as only the regenerate. The revised SOF better reflects our unity and our intention by sidestepping the debate and putting our intention into more precise language in articles six and eight. And that is something to be grateful for.
In fact, it's neither. The EFCA has never taken a position on Calvinism or Arminianism, not because the debate is not important, but because we have resolved not to divide over it. And as a Calvinist who values unity with my Arminian brothers and sisters, I am glad for that stance. The goal of the 1950 SOF was not to define the ordo salutis, but rather to define the composition of the church as only the regenerate. The revised SOF better reflects our unity and our intention by sidestepping the debate and putting our intention into more precise language in articles six and eight. And that is something to be grateful for.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
I shared with my wife the question Tim's children asked, and her response was, “I hope he said that he loved his wife more.” My wife and I agree that our daughter needs to know that our love for God is ultimate and our love as husband and wife penultimate for at least four reasons. One, it’s biblical. Two, her own sense of love and security rests in part on her sense of the strength and devotion present in our marriage. Three, she is a sinner and will eventually try to split us to get what she wants. It’s part of what children do. And four, the day will come when our daughter leaves home. My love for my wife preceded my daughter, and it will continue after she moves out. My priority must be my wife. These last two points are made particularly well by Carolyn Mahaney in her book Feminine Appeal.
Perhaps some think it overanalytical to prioritize, or that to prioritize means we do not love our children unconditionally. Think of what that would mean for understanding the Greatest Commandments! To see God as our first love would mean that we do not love our neighbor wholeheartedly or unconditionally? Simply taking that sort of reasoning to its logical conclusions shows that priorities do not lessen love or make it conditional somehow.
I do not want ever to need to choose between God and wife, between God and children, between wife and children. But I live in a fallen world. I am a fallen man. My wife is fallen, and my daughter is fallen. So I must think these things through, and make my priorities, before times of trouble come. So God, wife, children it is.