This is important because it is customary for some theologians to give the erroneous impression that God wanted Adam to Eve to relate to him in terms of meritorious works rather than childlike faith…I am hesitant to call Jesus’ obedience in life and death the fulfillment of a ‘covenant of works’ . . . works implies a relationship with God that is more like an employer receiving earned wages that like a Son trusting a Father’s generosity…Keeping the covenant of God did not mean living perfectly. It meant a life of habitual devotion and trust to the Lord, that turned from evil and followed him in his ways.

From about that time, I began to have a new kind of apprehensions and ideas of Christ. and the work of redemption, and the glorious way of salvation by him. An inward, sweet sense of these things, at times, came into my heart; and my soul was led away in pleasant views and contemplations of them. And my mind was greatly engaged to spend my time in reading and meditating on Christ, on the beauty and excellency of his person, and the lovely way of salvation by free grace in him. I found no books so delightful to me, as those that treated of these subjects. Those words Cant. 2:1, used to be abundantly with me, I am the Rose of Sharon, and the Lilly of the valleys. The words seemed to me, sweetly to represent the loveliness and beauty of Jesus Christ. The whole book of Canticles used to be pleasant to me, and I used to be much in reading it, about that time; and found, from time to time, an inward sweetness, that would carry me away, in my contemplations. This I know not how to express otherwise, than by a calm, sweet abstraction of soul from all the concerns of this world; and sometimes a kind of vision, or fixed ideas and imaginations, of being alone in the mountains, or some solitary wilderness, far from all mankind, sweetly conversing with Christ, and wrapt and swallowed up in God. The sense I had of divine things, would often of a sudden kindle up, as it were, a sweet burning in my heart; an ardor of soul, that I know not how to express.

Not long after I first began to experience these things, I gave an account to my father of some things that had passed in my mind. I was pretty much affected by the discourse we had together; and when the discourse was ended, I walked abroad alone, in a solitary place in my father’s pasture, for contemplation. And as I was walking there, and looking up on the sky and clouds, there came into my mind so sweet a sense of the glorious majesty and grace of God, that I know not how to express. I seemed to see them both in a sweet conjunction; majesty and meekness joined together; it was a sweet, and gentle, and holy majesty; and also a majestic meekness; an awful sweetness; a high, and great, and holy gentleness.

After this my sense of divine things gradually increased, and became more and more lively, and had more of that inward sweetness. The appearance of every thing was altered; there seemed to be, as it were, a calm sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, in almost every thing. God’s excellency, his wisdom, his purity and love, seemed to appear in every thing; in the sun, moon, and stars; in the clouds, and blue sky; in the grass, flowers, trees; in the water, and all nature; which used greatly to fix my mind. I often used to sit and view the moon for continuance; and in the day, spent much time in viewing the clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things; in the mean time, singing forth, with a low voice my contemplations of the Creator and Redeemer. And scarce any thing, among all the works of nature, was so sweet to me as thunder and lightning; formerly, nothing had been so terrible to me. Before, I used to be uncommonly terrified with thunder, and to be struck with terror when I saw a thunder storm rising; but now, on the contrary, it rejoiced me. I felt God, so to speak, at the first appearance of a thunder storm; and used to take the opportunity, at such times, to fix myself in order to view the clouds, and see the lightnings play, and hear the majestic and awful voice of God’s thunder, which oftentimes was exceedingly entertaining, leading me to sweet contemplations of my great and glorious God. While thus engaged, it always seemed natural to me to sing, or chant for my mediations; or, to speak my thoughts in soliloquies with a singing voice.

I felt then great satisfaction, as to my good state; but that did not content me. I had vehement longings of soul after God and Christ, and after more holiness, wherewith my heart seemed to be full, and ready to break; which often brought to my mind the words of the Psalmist, Psal. 119:28. My soul breaketh for the longing it hath. I often felt a mourning and lamenting in my heart, that I had not turned to God sooner, that I might have had more time to grow in grace. My mind was greatly fixed on divine things; almost perpetually in the contemplation of them. I spent most of my time in thinking of divine things, year after year; often walking alone in the woods, and solitary places, for meditation, soliloquy, and prayer, and converse with God; and it was always my manner, at such times, to sing forth my contemplations. I was almost constantly in ejaculatory prayer, wherever I was. Prayer seemed to be natural to me, as the breath by which the inward burnings of my heart had vent. The delights which I now felt in the things of religion, were of an exceeding different kind from those before mentioned, that I had when a boy; and what I then had no more notion of, than one born blind has of pleasant and beautiful colors. They were of a more inward, pure, soul animating and refreshing nature. Those former delights never reached the heart; and did not arise from any sight of the divine excellency of the things of God; or any taste of the soul satisfying and life; giving good there is in them.

–Jonathon Edwards

I drove over to Aunt Flo’s to look for them and got caught in Sunday morning rush hour. It was Confirmation Sunday at Lake Wobegon Lutheran Church. Thirteen young people had their faith confirmed and were admitted to the circle of believers, thirteen dressed-up boys and girls at the altar rail in front of a crowd of every available relative. Pastor Ingqvist asked them all the deepest questions about the faith (questions that have troubled theologians for years), which these young people answered readily from memory before partaking of their first Communion. Later they lounged around on the front steps and asked each other, “Were you scared?” and said, “No, I really wasn’t, not as much as I thought I’d be,” and went home to eat chuck roast, and some of them had their first real cup of coffee. They found it to be a bitter, oily drink that makes you dizzy and sick to your stomach, but they were Lutherans now and that’s what Lutherans drink.

 –Garrison Keillor, Life among the Lutherans

I read a quote that struck a chord from a surprising source, and I thought I’d share it:

Let no one suppose that I claim that just living can be taught; for in a word, I hold that there does not exist an art of the kind which can implant sobriety and justice in depraved natures.

A few pages later, the same author expounded on the same theme, with more words this time:

I consider that the kind of art which can implant honesty and justice in depraved natures has never existed and does not now exist, and that people who profess that power will grow weary and cease from their van pretensions before such an education is ever found.

Google can find the quote for you, if you can’t wait for my point to play out.  But if you actually know who said that, I’d be very impressed!  In addition to guesses, feel free to also leave your thoughts on the content of the quote.

Hint 1: The author of this quote is very far in the past.

Hint 2: The quote struck a surprising chord because I didn’t expect this author’s tradition to be concerned with typical Reformed buzzwords like “just” and “depraved”.  Wesley is not a bad guess, but strike farther afield…

[UPDATE]: The answer is Greek philosopher Isocrates, writing Against the Sophists.  This from The Great Tradition, a compendium of classical writing about education, edited by Richard M. Gambe, which I am reading for “Parent Academy,” an activity of my kids’ awesome school.

The very next sentence after the first quote is:

Nevertheless, I do think that the study of political discourse can help more than any other thing to stimulate and form such qualities of character.

My point is, even though that one sentence seems to be orthodoxally reformed, if you take a second, closer look, it’s really not.  First off, he probably doesn’t think that everybody has a depraved nature.  Second off, he’s off on his categories.  What we are concerned about in the gospel is not “just living” or “implanting” sobriety and justice.  That’s catlick talk.  We are interested in “justified” and having justice imputed to us (around us), not implanted in us.

It just goes to show you, the gospel really is an alien concept.  Accept no substitutes.

Not to ape all the retailers this year and start talking about Christmas way, way before its time. And not to lend any credence to forms of paganism that would that deal with us according to our sins, or repay us according to our iniquities.  But sometimes some pagan folktales do humanity a better service than other pagan folktales, as well as Christians stationed to teach other Christians who get bright ideas to turn a frown upside down.

Christmas is a holy day that the early church fathers invented because they were in competition with the Roman religion. One thing Christianity lacked was a big feast, and the Romans had one toward the end of December, Saturnalia, so the Christians established Christmas, sort of like one chain putting up a store right near its competitor.  It doesn’t have so much to do with Jesus as it does with business, and it’s been a big hit” the number of people celebrating Saturnalia and offering sacrifices to the gods has really diminished.

The Puritans weren’t into Christmas, knowing how shaky it was theologically, and the holiday was brought to America by the Dutch. It was in New York that Christmas became American with the invention of Santa Claus. It was in 1820 that Clement Clark Moore, living down in Chelsea, which was uptown then, coming home in his sleigh with the Christmas turkey, got the idea to write a poem for his children, “A Visit from St. Nicholas,” which a friend of his copied down and sent to a newspaper in Troy, New York, which published it without attribution.  Mr. Moore was a professor of Hebrew and Greek at the seminary down on Ninth Avenue and Twentieth Street, and he had no wish to go down in history as the author of light verse, though of course he did.

His poem gave us a picture of Santa Clause that was new and American. The Dutch version was less jolly: Sinterklaas came on Christmas and put cinders in the stockings of bad children. Professor Moore took out the judicial element and made him a sort of jolly uncle who brings you whatever you want no matter what. And the cartoonist Thomas Nast drew the picture of him as a rotund fellow with rosy cheeks and a big grin.

The Norwegians had never seen him as jolly either.  They believed in the Christmas elf, the nisse, who was mischievous if not actually malicious and who came around on Christmas Eve.  You had to leave him a gift of rice pudding, because it was he who would decide whether you had good luck or not so good.  The nisse didn’t bring gifts; he got them. He tasted your rice pudding, and if it wasn’t creamy enough or if it was too creamy or if there weren’t enough almonds in it, he wrinkled up his face and the next week you had a terrible earache, and the week after that a tree fell on your garage, and then your dad went in for prostate surgery. You had to learn to make rice pudding the way the nisse liked it. Otherwise, your life would be rotten.  And if you made a great rice pudding, sometimes the nisse out of pure meanness would make your toilets back up and get the IRS to call you in for an audit, and you’d open the door to find Mike Wallace and a cameraman filming. The stock would go down. Your newsboy would sue you because he tripped over the hose. You’d get your water tested; it’s got lead in it. One thing after another. All because of the pudding.

Some of us feel that this is truer to life than the idea of a fat man coming down the chimney and giving you all of your heart’s desires. It’s no wonder Clement Moore didn’t want his name put on his poem—he was embarrassed by it. He was a theologian; he knew he had created a commercial legend that would help sell things and that would cause disappointment, envy, impatience. What made him do it? It was a nisse who wrote the poem, out of sheer meanness.

Garrison Keillor, Life among the Lutherans

An outward Church is the necessary form of the new creation in Christ Jesus, in its very nature; and must continue to be so, not only through all time, but through all eternity likewise. Outward social worship, which implies, of course, forms for the purpose, is to be regarded as something essential to piety itself.  A religion without externals, must ever be fantastic and false.  The simple utterance of religious feeling, by which the spirit takes outward form, is indeed, not for something beyond itself, but for the perfection of the feeding itself. Forms, in this sense, not as sundered from inward life, of course, but as embracing it, enter as a constituent element into the very life of Christianity.  As a real, human, historical constitution in the world, the outward and inward in the Church can never be divorced, without peril to all that is most precious in the Christian faith.  We have no right to set the inward in opposition to the outward, the spiritual in opposition to the corporeal, in religion.  The incarnation of the Son of God, as it is the principle, forms also the true measure and test, of all sound Christianity, in this view.  To be real, the human, as such, and of course the divine also in human form, must ever externalize its inward life.  All thought, all feeling, every spiritual state, must take body, (in the way of word, or outward form of some sort,) in order to come at all to any true perfection in itself. This is the proper, deep sense of all liturgical services in religion.  The necessity here affirmed in universal.  The more intensely spiritual any state may be, the more irresistibly urgent will ever be found its tendency to clothe itself, and make itself complete, in a suitable external form. Away with imagination, then, that externals in Christianity (including the conception of the visible Church itself,) are something accidental only to its true constitution, a cunningly framed device merely for advancing some interest foreign from themselves. To think of the Church, and of Christian worship, as means simply to something else, is to dishonour religion itself in the most serious manner.

-John Williamson Nevin, Preface, The Mystical Presence: A Vindication of the Reformed or Calvinistic Doctrine of the Holy Eucharist.

Many conservative evangelicals and emerging “post-evangelicals” display their common heritage in an American revivalist tradition that Dietrich Bonhoeffer described as “Protestantism without the Reformation.” In a recent issue of TIME on Pope Benedict’s critical relationship with Islam, conservative Catholic scholar Michael Novak was quoted as saying concerning the pontiff, “His role is to represent Western civilization.” There are a lot of evangelical leaders who seem to think that this is their job, too. The mission of the church is to drive out the Romans (i.e., Democrats) and make the world safe for democracy. The Emergent movement’s politics are different: they lean left rather than right. For many reared on the “Christian America” hype of the religious right, this may seem like a major shift, but it’s just a change in parties rather than a deeper shift from moralism to evangelical mission. The Emergent sociology is different, too: Starbucks and acoustic guitars in dark rooms with candles rather than Wal-Mart and praise bands in bright-lighted theaters. Yet in either case, moralism continues to push “Christ crucified” to the margins.

True enough. But who, in his systematic theology, took that confessional language and gave the extended answer to the question, “What do you mean when you say that, after the Word creates the faith through which alone we obtain salvation, the sacraments affirm said faith”?

Our Lord in John vi. 53-58, expressly and solemnly declares that except a man eat of his flesh, and drink his blood, he has no life in him; and that whoso eateth his flesh and drinketh his blood, hath eternal life. It is here taught that the eating spoken of is necessary to salvation. He who does not eat of the flesh of the Son of Man, has no life in him. He who does thus eat, shall live forever. Now as no Christian Church, not even the Roman, maintains that a participation of the Lord’s Supper is essential to salvation, it is plain that no such Church can consistently believe that the eating spoken of is that which is peculiar to that ordinance. Again, the Scriptures so clearly and variously teach that those who believe in Christ; who receive the record God has given of his Son; who receive Him; who flee to Him for refuge; who lay hold of Him as their God and Saviour, shall never perish but have eternal life; it is plain that what is expressed in John vi. by eating the flesh of Christ and drinking his blood, must be the same thing that is elsewhere expressed in the various ways just referred to.

 When we eat our food we receive and appropriate it to the nourishment of our bodies; so to eat the flesh of Christ is to receive and appropriate Him and his sacrificial work for the life of our souls. Without this appropriation of Christ to ourselves we have no life; with it, we have life eternal, for He is our life. As this appropriation is an act of faith, it is by believing that we eat of his flesh and drink his blood. We accordingly find that this is recognized in all the leading Confessions of the Reformed Church. Thus in the Zurich Confession it is said, “Eating is believing, and believing is eating.”  The Helvetic Confession, as quoted above, says that this eating takes place as often as and wherever a man believes in Christ.  The Belgic Confession says, “God sent Christ as the true bread from heaven which nourishes and sustains the spiritual life of believers, if it be eaten, that is, if it be applied and received by the Spirit through faith.”  Faith, as shown above, is, in all these Confessions, declared to be the hand and the mouth by which this reception and appropriation are effected. A distinction may be, and often is, made between spiritual and sacramental manducation. But the difference between them is merely circumstantial. In the former the believer feeds on Christ to his spiritual nourishment, without the intervention and use of the elements of bread and wine; in the latter, he does the same thing in the use of those elements as the divinely appointed sign and seal of the truth and promise of God.

Although he advanced a simple explanation—some would call it no explanation at all—Machen’s analysis did not lack historical awareness. In addition to questioning the dominant position in New Testament studies, Machen thought that a study of Paul would resolve several problems surrounding Christianity’s emergence as a world religion. One concerned the Bible’s enormous influence on Western society. How could a “thoroughly Semitic book,” Machen wondered, come to a place of prominence even greater “than the glories of Greek literature” in a civilization shaped by the language, literature, and philosophy of Greece and Rome? The intrinsic value of the Bible could not explain this phenomenon since “the race from which the Bible came” had been despised throughout Western history. Christianity’s influence upon the West was also worthy of historical investigation because this religion originated among a “very peculiar people.” In A.D. 35 Christianity appeared to be nothing more than “a Jewish sect” but within thirty years was “plainly a world religion.” Such questions gave The Origin of Paul’s Religion a tone that clearly separated his criticisms of liberal scholars from fundamentalist diatribes against higher criticism.

D.G. Hart, Defending the Faith: J. Gresham Machen and the Crisis of Conservative Protestantism in Modern America

 

It is an ancient art. Its practice has been recorded as far back as the time of the ancient Greek philosopher Socrates (about 399 B.C.). Its nurture, or neglect, has influenced the rise and fall of nations and civilizations. Abandoning it has been the ruin of fortunes. Embracing it amplifies wealth and can dispel that state of poverty.

What is this mysterious, seemingly elusive art of which I speak? Frugality. A humble word, it is derived from two ancient Latin words, frugalis and frux, both meaning…”success.” You may also call it by other names, such as prudence, sparingness, and thrift. Whatever your choice may be, it always means the unwillingness to squander goods or spend money unnecessarily. It is the careful use of materials or resources.

The quality of being frugal is one so powerful as to change lives and affect history. Each of us possesses the ability to exercise it. Frugality allows you to govern your destiny and produce in your life a lovely, fertile garden of material and intangible wealth. Without it, you may be tossed upon the circumstances, at the mercy of your unorganized whims.

Tracey McBride, Frugal Luxuries

My wife is the prudent one. Word to the wise: if you ever wait on our table be sure to give me the check. Some of her summer reading has included ways to bone up on her boning up, to wit McBride’s verses on the Tao of Thrift. Perhaps I have had some influence over the years, as she guffawed upon reading these first words of the book. Quoth she: “Harrumph! Thrift is good, but c’mon already.” A conversation about the over-realization of virtue ensued.

It’s funny where prosperity shows itself. Sometimes it is where we might least expect it. Here we have it resident within the virtue of prudence.  It’s virtually monastic.

Christians generally, and Reformed specifically, tend to think prosperity gospel is only and ever about zoot suits, cheesy comb-overs and sweaty wads of cash. It’s not too unlike how we think legalism is only and ever about substance use, and perhaps worldly amusement. But prosperity, just like legalism, is really just a set of principles. That means it is highly mobile. The principles of legalism can be applied to education and (gulp) the Sabbath just as much as they can be applied against Drambuie, Hoyo de Monterrey’s and Cohen films.

In the same way, prosperity can manifest itself amongst the more staid and suburban consumers of virtue, those who may be tempted to rest in the fact that they be no sucka’s for bling. After all, if sin is an equal opportunity affliction then prosperity crouches at every turn, seeking whom it may devour. There is a siren song of prosperity for the middle- and high-brow patron who prefers a wallet to money clip. It can transcend the more unsavory trappings of material and tangible gain. It is usually about another more subdued way of being happy, healthy and whole by way of applying so-called “biblical principles” to one caucasian value or another: brighter and more pious children, a stable (not brimming) checking account, the accolades of peers.

Despite what sophisticated Presbyterians might assume, the dividing line between a theology of glory and that of the cross really isn’t set between the crass and couth elements of society. It isn’t even marked out by those given to peanut gallery out bursting and those who prefer their worship to be much more reserved.  In point of fact, the boundary marker is fixed within the human heart, a much more wily location. We are natural legalists as well as given to prosperity. We are hard-coded to look within and find a way to get our victory. If we’re being honest, looking outside ourselves is a heinous notion. The problem with being inwardly bent, however, is that the only thing which lies within East of Eden is sin. Thus after diving within we only surface with silliness. It’s not just those who rub idols to obtain a harvest of caddies that come off pitiable–it’s also those versed enough to invoke ancient Greek gods in order to “amplifiy wealth and dispel that state of poverty, govern your destiny and produce in your life a lovely, fertile garden of material and intangible wealth.” C’mon already.

My wife is still a fan of Epiphron but is taking McBride with a grain of salt. But I think I have an idea for her next stocking stuffer, Mark Chanski’s WOMANLY DOMINION: More Than A Gentle And Quiet Spirit, courtesy of the Center for Reformed Theology and Apologetics:

Christian woman – take dominion!  “Play your position!” is a call we may hear a coach yell at a soccer or football game. The meaning is: “Do what you have been assigned to do, and do it well!” Many Christian women have been told over the years that they must quietly stay under their parasols while their men go out and conquer the world.  But is this what the Bible really teaches? 

The Calvinist has the reputation of being a strong logical reasoner; nevertheless, because he makes the Bible his ultimate foundation, he does not hesitate to include in his system ideas difficult for reason to harmonize, ideas which seem to be logical opposites, as long as the Bible gives him reason for doing so.

This fact is of great importance. It keeps the Calvinist from becoming a one-sided extremist. A few examples may serve as illustrations. Take the seemingly logical opposites of predestination and human responsibility. John Calvin and Calvinists believe wholeheartedly in absolute predestination. But nowhere do you find human responsibility stressed more emphatically than in Calvin’s writings and among Calvinists. If you should ask the Calvinist, “But how do you harmonize these two?” he would reply, “That is unnecessary! God reconciles them, and that is enough for me.” While he can illuminate this harmony to a certain extent, basically it is a mystery and he is content to let it be so.

Or take these two opposites: the doctrine of election, which stresses God’s activity, and the covenant of grace as a responsibility, which stresses man’s activity. Although the study presents problems, there is no group that maintains both as ardently as does the Calvinist.

Again, reflect upon these facts which to some appear as opposites, namely, sin and grace as they affect man. There is no system that puts man the sinner down so low as does the Calvinist with his doctrine of total depravity. But there is none that places the Christian on a higher pedestal or demands more of him than does the Calvinist.

You might adduce the eternal conflict about the relation between spirit and matter. The materialist is always trying to reduce spirit to matter. The idealist pantheist maintains that matter arose from spirit. The Calvinist does not hesitate to accept the dualism of matter and spirit. He maintains that these are distinct substances, created by the same God, but as distinct from one another as they are from God the Creator.

Another apparent conflict is the one between separation from the world and culture. Whereas the secular man feels nothing for separation from the world, some Christians lay all stress on separation from the world but do not realize their calling to share in the cultural development of the world and their duty to be leaven in human society. The Calvinist keeps his equilibrium by stressing both as the Bible demands.

A last example we call attention to the contrast between intellectualism and mysticism. Men are inclined to be either one-sidedly intellectual or emotional in their religious life. One of the very best attributes paid to Calvin and the Calvinistic movement in this respect is that they have been called by some intellectualists, by others mystics, and by still others voluntarists who stress the will in religion. Certainly Calvinists must be balanced Christians if they can be charged with stressing all three. It is needless to say that Calvinists have not always fulfilled the demands of Calvinism. They have at times been one-sided, stressing either the intellect or the will or the emotions. But in so doing they have not practiced a full-orbed Calvinism, which provides for a proper emphasis on all three.

H. Henry Meeter, The Basic Ideas of Calvinism, Pgs. 41-42

“What we have so far said of the Sacrament abundantly shows that…[it] was not ordained to be received only once a year…it was ordained to be frequently used among all Christians in order that they might frequently return in memory to Christ’s Passion, by such remembrance to sustain and strengthen their faith, and urge themselves to sing thanksgiving to God and to proclaim his goodness…. [T]he Lord’s Table should have been spread at least once a week for the assembly of Christians, and the promises declared in it should feed us spiritually…. All, like hungry men, should flock to such a bounteous repast. “

Answer: John Calvin Institutes of the Christian Religion John T. McNeill ed Ford Lewis Battles trans Library of Christian Classics (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1960 [1559]) IV.xvii.44, 46

Look at that blemish-free skin, Todd.

I know Z is in the middle of reposting his series on Theology of the Cross (and for obvious reasons, we usually try to limit the Outhouse to one sitter at a time), but this was so relevant to that context I thought I’d slip it in.

I just got back from an early Father’s Day event at TCS, and part of the festivities was recitation of Rudyard Kipling’s famous poem “If” (well, if I know about it, it must be famous).  Among the other qualities which Kipling asserts will make one “be a Man, my son!” we have:

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

That struck me as very Theology of the Cross.  It’s obvious to see how a Theology of Glory fails to unmask earthly Triumph as an impostor, but by the same token, an expectation of Glorious Triumph will lead one to tend to view the world that now is as an unmitigated Disaster.  A properly tuned Theology of the Cross is better able to take both Triumph and Disaster in stride, focusing always on God’s sovereignty and common grace, and pinning our hope on the world to come.

The following was penned by Lutheran Don Matzat and is from the archives of Issues, Etc.

Evangelicalism has produced a new breed of liberals. These “new liberals” claim to believe what the Bible says and retain orthodox theology, but they adopt the same notion of cultural relevance that drove the old liberals.

When the enlightenment and the age of reason invaded Christianity the result was classic liberal theology – the placing of reason over biblical revelation. Such embracing of modern culture did great harm to the Christian message. We can rejoice today because, for all practical purposes, classic liberal theology is dead. We are living in the age of postmodernism.

Classic liberal theology, primarily the product of 19th century German rationalism, imposed its mind-set on the Christian Church. Today, with the advent of postmodernism, the classic liberal is as politically incorrect as the conservative Bible-believer. It is not proper, according to the postmodernist thinker, to impose your viewpoint on other people. They have their truth, and you have your truth. The folks of the “Jesus Seminar” are, for the most part, aged scholars attempting a last hurrah.

But there is a new threat on the horizon. It is no longer the classic liberal but the new liberal – the culturally relevant postmodern evangelical.

Liberals and Conservatives

Traditionally, the terms liberal and conservative, when applied to Christianity, defined two divergent viewpoints as to the relationship between reason and revelation. While the liberal was progressive in his embrace of the rationalism of the culture, the conservative remained the cautious traditionalist.

The liberal placed reason over revelation in order to accommodate the culture and make the Christian message palatable to the modern, scientific mentality. The liberal attempted to form a “religion of the people” by offering a culturally relevant message.

On the other hand, the authentic Christian conservative, on the other hand, while not rejecting the role of reason, willingly submitted reason to biblical revelation. The conservative was also interested in reaching people, but he was motivated by the greater desire of faithfulness to biblical truth. For the conservative, the Word of God, not the culture, determined the church’s agenda.

The real issue that divides liberals and conservatives is not specifically the role of reason but rather the issue of cultural relevance. Being culturally relevant in the modern scientific age demanded watering down the Christian message by eliminating the offensive elements, such as miracles.

The postmodern culture is not characterized by rationalism but by relativism. Absolute truth claims are rejected. Truth is either personal or the perspective of a specific community of faith.

Postmodernists are driven by the heart rather than by the head. This “new age” is also a spiritual age, yet it is a spirituality based on feelings, the development of the inner-life, not on propositional truth. I believe it is proper to conclude that the desire for cultural relevance defines and distinguishes the progressive liberal from the authentic Christian conservative. As the philosophic underpinnings of the culture change, the result will be a new breed of liberals.

This new liberal is not a rationalist. He may believe that the Bible is inspired and inerrant and may claim to possess theological soundness, but is driven by the same desire for cultural relevance that drove the classic liberal. The result of this new liberalism upon the Christian Church is as devastating as the intrusion of the classic rationalist.

Cultural Relevance

Where did we get the idea that the Christian Church should be culturally relevant? Obviously, this is not a Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod idea. We required two world wars before we stopped speaking German. The present expression of the drive for cultural relevance is a product of modern evangelicalism.

Present day evangelicalism or neo-evangelicalism is rooted in the 40’s. While emerging out of fundamentalism, it was a reaction against fundamentalism. Various conservative Christian leaders such as Harold John Ockenga, Carl F. H. Henry, Edward John Carnell questioned the relevance of the fundamentalist stance.

In assessing modern conservative Protestantism, they rightly noted that, while many fundamentalist churches were growing, they were primarily appealing to the lower, uneducated, socio-economic level. They concluded that this brand of Christianity would not impact the modern culture with the Gospel. Out of these observations emerged a “new evangelicalism” characterized by scholarship, social relevance, and an attitude of non-separatism.

What is an evangelical? Noted fundamentalist leader Bob Jones defined the new evangelical as one who would say to a liberal, “I’ll call you brother if you’ll call me smart.” Others have referred to evangelicals as simply “smiling fundamentalists.”

The new movement began to take shape. In 1942, the National Association of Evangelicals was formed. Fuller Theological Seminary, organized in 1947, became the training center for the new evangelical pastor. The Billy Graham Crusades beginning in 1948 led the evangelism impetus for the new evangelicals. The first issue of Christianity Today, the scholarly journal of conservative evangelical theology appeared in 1956. Within a few years it had more readers than the more liberal Christian Century.

While fundamentalism had responded to liberal theology by being separate, clinging to their own out-dated culture, the new evangelicals attempted to become integrated and culturally relevant. The movement was highly successful. Time magazine declared 1976 as the Year of the Evangelical.

Evangelical Style and Method

For the first twenty-five years, the Billy Graham Crusades characterized the evangelism zeal of the new evangelicals. In the past twenty-five years, the Church Growth Movement has taken over as the primary evangelical distinctive.

The new evangelicals desired to remain faithful to the Gospel proclamation, but recognized, along with the classic liberals, that the preaching of the cross of Jesus Christ is foolishness to the modern culture. While the classic liberals attempted to reach the culture by changing the product, the new evangelicals set out to change the packaging by adjusting style and method.

In 1970, Donald McGavran of the School of Missions at Fuller came out with the groundbreaking book Understanding Church Growth. Since that time, the face of American Christianity, including the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, has not been the same. Grasping McGavran’s theories, Fuller Seminary professors C. Peter Wagner, Arthur Glasser, Alan Tippett, Charles Kraft, and others began to widely disseminate these “Church Growth Principles.”

Commenting on the effects of the Church Growth Movement upon evangelicalism, David Wells writes:

A new and more culturally adapted evangelicalism emerged, the central figures of which were no longer the scholars who had been prominent in the immediate post-war years but rather a host of managers, planners, and bureaucrats – and not far behind them, marketers This new set of leaders view growing a church or, for that matter, any Christian ministry as essentially no different from growing a business.(1)

Instrumental in the move to turn the local Christian congregation into an efficiently functioning business were the writings of marketing expert George Barna.

(2) He conceived of the church as a business, the pastor as a CEO, and the Gospel as a product. Many LCMS congregations have jumped on the “mission statement” band-wagon, thinking that the word “mission” defined a Christian thing. The fact is, the “mission statement” idea emerged out of the marketing strategy of secular corporations. In a college business textbook the authors write: “A mission statement broadly outlines the organizations future course and serves to communicate ‘who we are, what we do, and where we’re heading’.” (3)

In his book Dining with the Devil, Os Guinness points out that the Church Growth Movement has caused theology to take a back seat to methodology. He writes:

Today theology is rarely more than marginal in the church-growth movement at the popular level. Discussion of the traditional marks of the church is virtually non-existent. Instead, methodology is at the center and in control. The result is a methodology only occasionally in search of a theology. After all, Church Growth, as opposed to church growth, is a self-professed “science,” not a theology. (4)

Relativism

As postmodernism gradually replaced the age of reason, evangelicals, in search of cultural relevance and driven by “seeker sensitivity,” readily adopted the new paradigm. The issue for us is no longer simply adopting “evangelical style” while retaining “Lutheran substance.”

Since the primary manifestation of postmodernism is the relativity of truth, when such a mind-set invades the church, the results will be the same. Truth will be deemed relative. Dr. Mike Horton writes:

In fact, evangelical Christians, according to Barna, are equally divided between those who strongly agree and strongly disagree with the statement, “There is no such thing as absolute truth.”. . . Even among conservative evangelicalism the accommodation to contemporary culture’s retreat from objective truth is obvious. . . . If the early church defended its convictions with “It is written. . .” and the medieval church with, “The Church says. . .”, today’s evangelicals often throw out slogans and the appeal, “I feel that. . .” (5)

Dr. Albert Mohler adds:

Yet to our shame, the modern secular worldview has wrought destruction within the church as well. The modern attempt to dominate truth has given way within sectors of the church to the postmodern rejection of truth itself. Indeed, in many denominations and churches, notions of orthodoxy and heresy have become “conceptual emptiness.” The boundaries have vanished. The very possibility of heresy is dismissed in many circles within Protestantism. (6)

Experience over Doctrine

While the classic liberal placed reason over Scripture, the postmodern liberal places experience over Scripture.

People join a church today because “they like it.” They have a good experience. They listen to their pastor, because “they like him.” Whether or not the church teaches truth or the pastor proclaims truth is no longer the issue.

If there are elements of the Christian faith which people do not like, those doctrines are not rejected but simply marginalized. People don’t like the subject of sin and redemption. Therefore, for the postmodern liberal, Jesus is no longer primarily the suffering Savior who died to forgive human sin. Rather, he is our friend who helps us make it through the week. He gives us good principles for living so that we could be successful in our daily living.

Obviously, people don’t like the doctrine of hell. Some postmodern liberals have adjusted the doctrine in order to be more culturally relevant. Unbelievers, according to their way of thinking, are not punished eternally but simple annihilated.

People don’t like the idea of standing in awe of a holy God. One author speaks of this as the “cringe factor” that must be eliminated. God has become the “good buddy” of the postmodern liberal.

The postmodern pastor is dedicated to the task of offending no one.

Denouncing Polemics

If doctrinal truth is relative, there is no point in defending truth or pointing out error. Error does not exist. Dr. David Wells writes:

So it is that the particularities of evangelical faith, the things that make it different – are dissolved. Modern culture grants me absolute freedom to believe whatever I want to believe – so long as I keep those beliefs from infringing on the consciousness or behavior of anyone else, especially on points of controversy. (7)

Classic confessional theology has always embraced two parts: the first is the clear declaration of the truth; and the second is the description of heterodox positions (those positions that are in error). The postmodern liberal will hold to his truth, but will be uncritical of errorists.

The New Spirituality

We are living in a culture that has become very spiritual. While religion is “out,” spirituality is “in.” Popular techniques that are a part of the postmodern spirituality are becoming widely adopted by postmodern evangelicals, including those within the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod.

Recent publications by Lutheran organizations (8) have promoted popular New Age practices, including the technique of “centering”.

While it is true that these techniques can be traced to the mysticism of the classic contemplatives, the popularity of these methods today is not related to a revival of classic mysticism but rather the proliferation of the teachings of the New Age movement.

Even though historic Lutheran theology has rejected the introversion and quietism necessary to engage in these practices, seeing them as a challenge to the objective nature of justification, this makes little difference. The practices are popular. People, especially women, enjoy this new spirituality. It’s warm and fuzzy.

Collaborative Bible Study

The new approach to education in the postmodern age is what is called “collaborative learning.” Gene Veith says:

The postmodernist emphasis upon groups shows up also in education. Students engage in “collaborative learning.” Instead of each individual student learning the lesson and doing the homework, students work together in groups, collaborating to receive a group grade. (9)

The postmodern pastor, rather than being a teacher and defender of the truth of Christianity, becomes a group facilitator. Bible study is no longer the exegetically trained pastor saying, “this is what the verse means,” rather, the group determines the meaning of Scripture as it applies to them. The pastor is no longer the spiritual authority figure – his opinions on spiritual matters are really no better than anyone else’s opinion.

Trashing Tradition

When I took “worship” in the seminary, the historic liturgy was not “given to me,” rather, I was given to the liturgy. Liturgical worship added the note of transcendence to the service.

The question was not do the people like it? It was what we did! If you wanted to sing gospel songs, go to the Baptist Church – that is what they do. Today, in the desire to appeal to the seeker, the postmodern pastors trash tradition. The postmodern expression of Christianity is no longer historically based, but is merely built upon the spiritual whims of the populace.

The Results

Fifty years after the rise of the new evangelicalism and twenty years after Time declared 1976 The Year of the Evangelical, what has become the shape of American evangelical Christianity? Has the push to attain cultural relevance been successful?

By and large, the Christian Church has not impacted the secular culture with the Gospel. Instead, the philosophy, methods, and style of the secular culture have invaded the Christian Church. Rather than adjusting the secular culture, the grand evangelical experiment in cultural relevance has produced a Christian culture that is virtually identical with the secular culture. Many churches are businesses. Their pastors are CEO’s. The worship services offer entertainment. We have Christian television, Christian radio, Christian books, and Christian gift shops. We search the Christian “yellow pages,” to find Christian lawyers, psychologists, and financial advisors. We cast our vote for the Christian politicians. Christian contemporary music is marketed in the same way as secular music. We can do Christian aerobics and join Christian weight-loss programs. A Christian ghetto has been produced. While Jesus told his church to be in the world but not of it, the culturally relevant evangelical is of it but not in it.

Successful postmodern evangelical pastors such as Bill Hybels and Robert Schuller are really no different than the successful modern liberal clergy, such as Sloan Coffin and Harry Emerson Fosdick. While Coffin and Fosdick built their congregations by appealing to human reason, Hybels and Schuller “grow a church” by appealing to the feelings and experience of the people. While the classic liberal pastor questioned, on the basis of reason, the truth of traditional Christian doctrine, the postmodern pastor ignores doctrine and focuses on methods that produce success. Doctrine that stands in the way of appealing to the culture, such as the issue of human sin, is marginalized.

On the surface, it may seem ironic to think of the evangelical as the new liberal. The roots of evangelicalism are found in the ultraconservative fundamentalism. Os Guinness comments on this seemingly strange reversal, “Mention of the liberal camp only deepens the irony . . . fundamentalists as modernity’s former misfits have become its most ardent missionaries.” (10)

Yet, it is not so strange that former fundamentalists are the new culturally relevant liberals. H. Richard Niebuhr points out that the fundamentalist attack on the so-called liberalism of cultural Protestantism was not so much motivated by the desire to preserve the authentic Christian faith, but rather an expression of loyality to their own outdated culture. He writes: “the mores they associate with Christ have at least as little relation to the New Testament and as much connection with social custom as have those of their opponents . . . though the culture it seeks to conserve differs from that which its rivals honor.” (11)

From fundamentalism to neo-evangelicalism the issue was always culture over Christ. The difference is, the culture embraced by the neo-evangelicals is the culture of the world.

Response to the New Liberalism

The divisions that exist within Protestant Christianity today over the issue of cultural relevance are as great if not even greater than the divisions caused by liberal rationalism. In the April 5, 1997 edition of the New York Times, columnist Bruce Bawer commented on the state of American Protestantism:

American Protestantism is in the midst of a major shift. It is being split into two nearly antithetical religions, both calling themselves Christian.

Those who oppose this new liberalism dare not respond as old-fashioned cultural conservatives and yearn to recapture the good ol’ days of the 40’s and 50’s. Old-fashioned conservatives are as much a hindrance to the Christian enterprise as are the new liberals. Did people in the 40’s and 50’s understand the liturgy of the church? Were they theologically astute? Were they effectively catechized? Were they able to share their faith or did they merely invite their neighbors to church to listen to the pastor?

Old-fashioned cultural conservatives may join the fight to preserve Bible-based, traditional, confessional Christianity, but they often do so out of the desire to preserve the good ol’ days. From what I can remember about the good ol’ days, they were really not that great. We boasted of having the “pure Gospel,” but more often than not had no idea what that meant.

The advent of postmodern liberalism may be the very thing we have needed to wake us from our dogmatic slumbers. In the past, we have not done a good job of teaching and training the people. Truth is relativized and tradition is rejected today because neither were understood nor valued in the 40’s and 50’s, but there are many good signs on the horizon.

There is a renewed emphasis in the LCMS upon catechesis – teaching and training people in the basic elements of the Catechism. If the postmodern age rejects truth, the church must powerfully present truth to fill the vacuum. If the postmodernist claims that there is no absolute truth, we respond by saying, “Yes there is, and we have it. Come and learn.” It is again time for the people in the LCMS to say, “We have the pure Gospel!” But this time, they should be taught what that means.

There is also a move among evangelicals back to the historic expression of the Christian faith as seen in the Church Fathers and in the Reformation. Former liberal theologian Thomas Oden now refers to himself as paleo-orthodox. He has returned to the historic roots of the faith. The Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals, a movement comprised of both Lutherans and Calvinists, is calling evangelicals back to the Reformation. Baptist theologians such as Albert Mohler, John Armstrong, Tom Nettles, and Rob Shorter encourage Baptists to find a deeper expression of their faith in Word and Sacrament.

Movements come and go, but the truth is eternal. Much of the controversy caused by the Church Growth Movement is driven by the baby-boomer generation. This generation will pass and “Woodstock” will no longer be celebrated in the sanctuary. Perhaps the time will come when the refrains of contemporary Christian music will be echoing through the halls of Lutheran nursing homes.

This is a very exciting time to be a part of the Christian Church. It is a time to learn and to grow, or “To get it right and get it out!” Jesus made it very clear that his Church will prevail and the gates of hell will not stand against it!

1. Wells, David, God in the Wasteland, (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994), pp.71-71.

2. Barna, George, Marketing the Church, (Colorado Springs: Navpress, 1988).

3. Thompson & Strickland, Strategic Management, (Boston: BPI, 1990), pp. 4-5.

4. Guinness, Os, Dining with the Devil, (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1994), p. 26.

5. Horton, Michael, Beyond the Culture Wars, (Chicago: Moody Press, 1994), p. 69.

6. Boice, James Montgomery and Sasse, Benjamin E., Here We Stand, (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1996), p.61.

7. ibid. 1, p. 27.

8. Harmony: A Guide to Emotional Well-Being, Aid Association for Lutherans, 1994.
Shaltanis, Theresa and Mark, Quiet Time with God, International Lutheran Women’s Missionary League, 1997.

9. Veith, Gene, Postmodern Times, (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1994), p. 183.

10. ibid. 4, pp. 61-63.

11. Niebuhr, Richard H., Christ and Culture, (New York: Harper and Row, 1951), p. 102.

A quote, for your enjoyment:

Wrong-headed Activism

James intends neither to inflame nor pacify his readers.  His bold prophetic content is meant to convict, not enrage; to instruct, not incite.  His analysis is honest and his direction straightforward.  He does not want to mount a campaign, inspire a movement or lead a crusade.  He entertains no grand illusion of changing the system, but has every intention of breaking the world’s powerful hold on the community of faith.

Activism should never become a substitute for Christian thinking.  Zeal without knowledge, no matter how well-intentioned, leads Christians astray.  There are no quick fixes to social evil or to the evil within.  We only frustrate ourselves when we feel we can change the world by marshaling public opinion, sponsoring an economic boycott or marching on Washington.  Many evangelicals today are swayed by certain activists who distill Christian commitment down to a few issues.  These activists then lead their “forces” against evil, hoping to capture media coverage and public attention.

Seldom do wrong-headed activists see eye to eye on abortion and apartheid, the justice system and the environment, big business and pollution, nationalism and feminism.  The selective social agenda produces confusion and partisanship, reflecting a liberal or conservative platform rather than Christian ethics.  The American church has substituted left- or right-wing political strategies for the patience James calls for.  In the face of grave social injustices, many have neglected the meaning of Jesus’ kingdom ethic.

Many of today’s so-called Christian activists lack the understanding and resolve to endure patiently.  The end product of easy-believism, religious individualism and fuzzy relationism is a Christian whose patience is in short supply.  When the whole counsel of God is neglected and the principle of the cross is forgotten, bursts of wrong-headed activism are commonplace.

Douglas Webster, Finding Spiritual Direction, pp 144-5, commenting on James 5:7-11.

From Edmund P. Clowney, The Unfolding Mystery: Discovering Christ in the Old Testament:

The nations were drawn not simply by Israel, prospering under God’s blessing, but by the king of Israel, who was given encyclopedic knowledge. Solomon’s wisdom was compared with that of the wise men of the ancient world: he exceeds them all. The ideal of wisdom includes comprehensive inquiry into the world of creation. But Solomon diligently pursued biology as well as statecraft and literature. His wisdom was not parochial but international, cosmopolitan. Yet there would come a humble King who could quietly declare, “One greater than Solomon is here” (Mt. 12:42).

In the proverbs of Solomon no less than in the psalms of David, we are pointed toward Jesus Christ. The golden text of the book of Proverbs is: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding” (Prov. 9:10). Apart from the Lord, the acquisition of knowledge is meaningless. The ultimate and supreme reality is not fire or water, as early Greek philosophy imagined, nor is it an abstract set of ideas. It is not “Being.” It is the living God, who revealed Himself to Israel, and summoned the nations of the earth to heed His word…

Knowing and fearing the Lord is therefore the beginning of all of our thinking, the realistic thinking that will direct our lives (Prov. 3:5, 7; 12:15)…By calling us to make God the Lord of our knowing as well as our living, the wisdom literature directs us toward the personal revelation of God in Jesus Christ. On the other hand, the wisdom books and psalms of the Old Testament also prepare for Christ in a negative way: “’Meaningless! Meaningless!’ says the Teacher. ‘Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless’” (Eccl. 1:2).

The despair expressed in the book of Ecclesiastes has a particular place in the history of God’s saving work. The promises of God have been kept. The people of God now live in their land; they have not only their daily bread but milk and honey besides.

…The working man labors all his life, but what does he have to show for it at last…The “Preacher” of Ecclesiastes does, indeed, point to the only possible resolution of the enigmas of life…There is more to come: a greater rest than rest from Philistine invaders, a greater peace than Solomon could provide, a greater inheritance than the land of promise. There is more to come, because God is to come. When He comes, death the devourer will be devoured in victory (Is. 25:8; 1 Cor. 15:54-56). Suffering as well as death is a problem confronted in the wisdom sections of the Old Testament. David’s cry to the Lord in the laments of his Psalms leads us to the promise of God’s deliverance.