Cheesy Christian cinema: Nostalgia for a bygone era

Andrew Barber takes a dim view of the phenomenon of "Christian film." The recent glut of evangelical cinematic efforts is not helpful to Christianity's public image.

I know it can seem petty to pick on Christian films, but they have become a noteworthy representation of Christianity. Every conversation I have with a non-Christian requires dealing with their perceptions of me as a Christian, which more often than not means dealing with the Republican Party, televangelists, and Christian media. The issue of representation aside, the problems in Christian films must be addressed, because they are not just issues of technique or stylistic preferences. They are issues of integrity.

There are currently two primary problems with Christian films: (1) they are either inherently dishonest and/or (2) they are primarily concerned with what C. S. Lewis called “egoistic castle-building.” Note: discussing both issues will require me to generalize about Christian films at large, so there will be (I hope) some exceptions. But I believe the trends discussed here are self-evidently true for a great majority of the Christian film genre.

Barber is pretty much on target with his critique. With rare exceptions, Christian movies have always been cheap, cheesy, and contrived. But what I find most interesting about Barber's article is that it could easily have been written 20 years ago, or even 40 years ago.

The perception of evangelical Christianity as being dominated by "the Republican party, televangelists, and Christian media" has not changed in over a generation, despite the fact that the landscape of evangelicalism has changed drastically, for better or worse, since the heyday of the Religious Right in the 1980's. The fact that Christian films continue to perpetuate the image of an evangelicalism joined at the hip to Republican politics and the idealistic crusades of televangelists is a particularly stinging indictment against a Christian media paralyzed by a nostalgia for a bygone era.

Andrew Walker on World Vision and evangelical identity

If you were unfortunate enough to read Tony Jones and Rachel Held Evans today, you might mistakenly think the evangelical world is full of "spiritual bullies" and rigid ideologues who simply will not tolerate dissent, especially in the form of a para-church organization softening its standards on marriage. Jones and Evans are among the more strident voices of nominal evangelicalism's whiny, overgrown adolescent fringe. They would do well to heed the admonitions about spiritual maturity from Paul and Peter, among others. Matt Kennedy offers the "Rachel Held Evans Rule" as a criterion for determining the good or evil of particular actions.

Conversely, Andrew Walker, writing today for First Things, sums up with remarkable clarity what the recent World Vision episode demonstrates about "evangelical identity."

In American evangelicalism, you can’t believe in anything you want and call yourself an evangelical. That what Mainline Protestantism is for. That’s the route that “professional dissidents” like Rachel Held Evans want evangelicalism to become, but that only leads to eternal pottage.

World Vision reversed course, ostensibly, from an outpouring of criticism from conservative Christians all over the United States. To the lot of us, there seemed to be something inconsistent about a Christian organization making marriage an adiaphora—something up for negation, or compromise. And that’s why I remain skeptical at trend lines that suggest that younger evangelicals will embrace same-sex marriage. It defies precedent. In each age, intellectual surrender and compromise has stood before the church, yet she keeps on going. The faith persists. As G. K. Chesterton said that bears repeating: “Time and again, the Faith has to all appearances gone to the dogs. But each time, it was the dog that died.”

In a day where American views of sexuality are fracturing, the World Vision episode reveals that the gravitational center of evangelicalism remains decidedly biblical. The challenge before us today is to keep it that way.

Modes of baptism may be negotiable, but even then, we all insist that it is water that must be present. The same couldn’t be said about the bitter pill World Vision was asking evangelicalism to swallow. Evangelicals know that the structure and design of human embodiment has a biblical telos to it, that marriage is something, but World Vision was saying something different.

We weren’t having it. But there were no Papal Bulls. There were no Councils. There were no Synods. There was only evangelicalism with Bibles open, recognizing that a line had been crossed.

Good for World Vision in correcting course. This episode will subside, and wounds will heal. Their integrity remains intact. Their steps to reverse a horrifically wrong stance are commendable. And good for evangelicalism to have the identity it does to know what its identity is and isn’t.

Fig leaves won't do in the presence of a holy God

I have long soured on what I not so affectionately refer to as "pop culture evangelicalism," that faddish brand of "relevant" spirituality popular of late among the young and foolish. Some will protest that the term is unfair, and I might even be inclined to agree. To add the qualifier, "evangelicalism," to a movement that is entirely a product of "pop culture" is to diminish both, but that is precisely the point. Evangelicalism does not need pop culture and its addiction to celebrity in order to be "relevant," and pop culture does not need evangelicalism to clothe its narcissistic excesses in spiritual garb.

The dirty little secret is that American evangelicalism, unhinged from anything resembling historical moorings, has been married to pop culture almost from its inception. Its current adriftness--theologically, spiritually, and substantively--is the natural outcome of the exaltation of the autonomy of the individual over the mutual accountability of the community. The emergence of an evangelical celebrity culture mirroring that of the secular entertainment world was inevitable in such an environment.

Depravity, however, that most wholesome yet distasteful doctrine of the Reformation, has a way of wielding its ugly head at the most inopportune of times. The well documented downfalls of celebrity "mega-church" pastors are testimony to this. Sex brought down Ted Haggard. Muddled theology felled Rob Bell. Now, allegations of plagiarism threaten to derail the ministry of Mark Driscoll.

As is often the case when accusations of impropriety arise, many of Driscoll's critics, who have never cared much for his bombastic brand of evangelicalism, have taken to piling on, calling attention to some of the Seattle pastor's other questionable actions.

In an article posted at Juicy Ecumenism today, however, Mark Tooley raises an issue with Driscoll which may seem superficial, but actually goes to the very heart of the problem with pop culture evangelicalism.

It once was a redeeming quality for traditional once Mainline Protestant churches that, whatever their other deficiencies, they offered a respectful, traditional worship atmosphere, with clergy and parishioners dressed formally. Increasingly this seriousness is less and less common, and I sometimes see worshippers dressed similar to Driscoll in this photo. Usually I see only a handful wearing a coat and tie at my own church and other Methodist churches where I attend, a big shift from just a few years ago. Recently I was asked to be an usher at a church I visited, my only apparent virtue as a stranger apparently being that I was among the very few in a suit. 

An elderly woman in my church has recalled that her father, when pastor of the church in the 1940s, had been the last minister to appear in the pulpit wearing a frock coat and not a robe. Apparently not until well into the 20th Century did Methodist clergy start wearing robes, previously wearing dark suits. Francis Asbury, founding bishop of American Methodism, was famous for crisscrossing the American frontier in his dark suit, which naturally got frayed. John Wesley reputedly preached often to outdoor crowds in the robe of an Anglican clergy. 

The largest church in the neighborhood of my church is an historic black Baptist congregation. Their traffic creates a small traffic jam on Sunday mornings. And as I pass their parishioners walking from their parked cars they are always formally dressed, men and women, all ages. This particular church is pretty well to do. But as a black seminary president recently explained to me, historically black people who were not well off saw church as their most important experience of the week and dressed accordingly. I’ve noticed that worshippers at immigrant Hispanic evangelical churches are often dressed very formally, probably for similar reasons. 

Shouldn’t church be the most important event of the week for everybody, at least as important as a wedding or other celebration?

Tooley is quite on target in pointing out the inadequacy of Driscoll's wardrobe. I am not as big a stickler for congregational uniformity, but clergy ought always to dress appropriately when leading worship, proclaiming the Word of God, and presiding at the Lord's Table.

Driscoll and others of the "casual" persuasion may argue that their ragged and disheveled attire is an expression of incarnational ministry. However, that is missing the point. The minister leading worship has a great weight upon his shoulders. It is his responsibility to bring the worshiping community into the presence of a holy God. From the Garden of Eden onward, this is not something one does when clothed with mere fig leaves.

Timely Re-post: Mark Sanford and the failure of pop culture evangelicalism

[NOTE: This article was originally posted on June 30, 2009. In light of recent events, I think it is appropriate to re-post it at this time.]

Pop culture mythology portrays "evangelical Christians," lumped together under the umbrella of the "Religious Right," as a potent--even dangerous--force in American politics. In reality, however, the "evangelicalism" so often maligned by the pop culture is largely a product of that culture itself. From the outmoded escapist fantasies of "rapture ready" dispensationalism to the trendy fads of the "Emergent Church," the similarities between pop culture evangelicalism and genuine Christianity are few and far between.

A stinging indictment against one of the major shortcomings of pop culture evangelicalism is the sorry episode involving South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford. As Lloyd Fonvielle sees it, Sanford's "culture" failed him.

Sanford's case feels more complex, and interesting. He's clearly still in love with his Argentinian bombshell, if by love we mean the pussy-fever associated with a new and transgressive sexual relationship. Some failing in the right-wing Christian culture he inhabits seems to have left him unprepared to deal with the power of that fever -- you get a sense he was blindsided by it, and is still reeling from the blow.

Perhaps there is something about the rhetoric of his culture that minimizes the exaltation of sexual love, relating it too exclusively to law and duty, downplaying its delirious joy, leaving the members of that culture defenseless when the real thing emerges or re-emerges in their lives.

When it comes to adultery, I'm agin' it -- I don't see it as a "pecadillo" but as a profound, existentially crippling moral failing . . . yet at the same time less about the sex involved than about a violation of trust that can almost literally rip the heart out of a partner. No amount of personal pleasure or fulfillment can justify it, but you need to have a healthy appreciation of just how much personal pleasure and fulfillment it can deliver to know what you're up against when it presents itself.

I don't think Mark Sanford had a clue. In his e-mails to his mistress he sounds like a lovesick and somewhat bewildered teenager. How did he get to the age of 49 in that condition of emotional immaturity?

The particular "failing in the right wing Christian culture" here is a view of sin as merely the violation of a moral law ("God's law," to use one of Sanford's favorite terms) with little or no emphasis on the larger problem of depravity being the natural state of the fallen human condition. This is an essentially Pelagian view which reduces repentance to little more than saying, "I'm sorry and I'll try to do better next time." There is no need for divine grace, just a more earnest human effort to try harder to stay out of trouble. But trouble will always find you if you rely on your own strength, rather than on the grace of God alone, which awakens true repentance and a radical change of heart and mind.

Pop culture evangelicalism is hardly the monolithic monster so foolishly feared by the cultural left. Its minimalist expression of the faith will never transform even one individual, much less an entire culture.

Downfall: The desire to be respected in the halls of power

Louie Giglio

Concerning the recent dust-up involving Louie  Giglio's withdrawal from the Obama inauguration ceremony, Gary DeMar asks the question I've been hoping someone would ask before I had to ask it myself. Namely, why would a Christian pastor want to speak a "good word" (i.e. benediction) over an event celebrating a godless political agenda?

Christians are riled up that Louie Giglio, pastor of the Passion City Church in Roswell, Georgia, was dumped by Obama’s people to give the benediction at the President’s inauguration ceremony. I’m shocked that more Christians aren’t riled up that Louie Giglio agreed to do it in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong. I believe Giglio has a great ministry. This year’s Passion event turned out 60,000 young people who donated more than $3 million to help in the effort to abolish the pernicious sin and crime of slavery.

Why was Giglio dumped? I love this from the Washington Post:

“An evangelical pastor from Atlanta announced Thursday [January 10] that he would not give the benediction at President Obama’s swearing-in ceremony after a sermon he gave on homosexuality in the mid-1990s resurfaced earlier this week.

“In that sermon, the Rev. Louie Giglio called for Christians to ‘firmly respond to the aggressive agenda’ of some in the gay community and warns that widespread gay marriage ‘would run the risk of absolutely undermining the whole order of our society.’”

Resurfaced? Did it come ashore in a bottle? It didn’t “resurface.” Homosexual activists went looking for whatever they could find on Giglio to get him ousted. They knew that if they could find anything he said about homosexuality, he would be gone.

President Obama supports homosexual marriage. He’s pushing for a state-wide acceptance of homosexual marriage in his home state of Illinois.

How can a Christian offer a Christian benediction for a man who represents a worldview that is antithetical to the Christian faith he claims to be a part of and implements policies that could result in divine judgment?

Would the apostle Paul have given a benediction for Nero? Would Peter have done it for Herod? Would Martin Niemöller (1892–1984) have given a benediction for Adolf Hitler?! Niemöller used his pulpit to expose Adolf Hitler’s radical politics even though “[h]e knew every word spoken was reported by Nazi spies and secret agents.”

We are to obey the civil authorities. We are to pray for civil rulers to do the right thing (Rom. 13:4; 1 Pet. 2:13). But we are not required to stand up with them and grace their governments with a benediction. How can a “good word” be given for a civil ruler who supports so many

John the Baptist didn’t attend government functions with Herod and sanction his behavior with a benediction. He spoke out against his sin. He paid a heavy price (Mark 6:14-29).

We shouldn’t be surprised at the way Christians and Christian beliefs are dealt with by this administration. We’ve seen four years of it. Early Christians suffered under the religious oppression, first, of Judaism, and second, Imperial Rome. Ours is a prophetic task not an enabling one.

Nathan didn’t stand with King David and offer a benediction. David would have loved for him to do it. It would have given him religious cover for his sins. Instead, Nathan confronted the powerful king about his sin. Keep in mind that David was an accomplice to murder. Nathan put his life on the line in his prophetic word to the king.

The same is true of the priests who confronted King Uzziah (2 Chron. 26:16–23). The king had just “warred against the Philistines, and broke down the wall of Gath and the wall of Jabneh and the wall of Ashdod; and he built cities in the area of Ashdod and among the Philistines” (v. 6). The priests were defenseless, and yet they still confronted the king.

Overstated comparisons with Nero, Hitler, et al. aside, DeMar's point is well taken. The actions of Obama and his administration over the last four years, most notably the suppression of religious freedom through mandates imposed on religious groups via his healthcare law, suggest that the president is, at best, a person of wavering faith more urgently in need of the church's rebuke and correction than its blessing.

Cardinal Dolan

That being said, however, it is possible for a Christian leader to be salt and light while carrying out ceremonial duties at political gatherings. Delivering the benediction at both party conventions this past summer, Timothy Cardinal Dolan, with meticulous pastoral skill, asked God's blessing on the nation and its political process while simultaneously reminding both Democrats and Republicans of the great national sins in which partisans on both sides have been complicit.

Religious celebrities (forgive me for my cynicism) cozying up to presidents is nothing new. Obama has had his share of moderate to left-leaning clerics on the White House guest list, and they have generally served as court theologians for his political agenda. Conversely, the list of "right wing" evangelical clerics who have frequented the White House during the tenures of Republican presidents is infinite, and one would be hard pressed to find any instance of them rebuking their nation's leader in even the mildest tone, much less that of a Nathan or a John the Baptist. The desire to be respected in the halls of power has been, and will continue to be, the downfall of many a Christian leader, regardless of political affiliation, who forgets his first allegiance is to Christ and his kingdom.

Evangelicalism: Waning or changing?

Falwell: Evangelical or Fundamentalist?

Scot McKnight wonders if evangelicalism, at least as he defines it, is on the wane.

What is evangelicalism? I have been, am and will stand by David Bebbington and Mark Noll. Evangelicalism is a movement in the Protestant church shaped by differing but clear emphasis on four beliefs: the centrality of the Bible, the centrality of the atoning death of Christ, the centrality of the need for personal conversion, and the centrality of an active mission to convert others and to do good works in society.

Who decides who is evangelical? No one, really. Others, mostly. There is no one who decides who gets to carry the evangelical card but there is a a general conviction on the part of others who is “in” and who is “out.” I have an opinion, and you may have an opinion, and the one with the louder voice or the bigger voice might be the most compelling but … let this be said: God does not equate “Church” with “evangelical.” But because it is a movement, and for some the movement is so important that it is nearly the same as the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church, it matters deeply to some.

My old seminary mate (actually he was a year or two ahead of me) Ken Schenck takes issue with McKnight's criteria.

My problem with this approach is that it mistakenly thinks that there is some objective thing called "evangelicalism." Even worse, it plays into some self-perpetuating myth by which a particular social group can consider itself the true heirs of Christ, not unlike the Roman Catholic Church. That's laughable.

In reality, this word will have multiple meanings at any particular time and its meaning will change over time. So let's be clear, the question being asked is whether or not the particular social movement known as neo-evangelicalism, which rose in the late 1940s, is on the wane. It is not a question of whether these four things are true and necessary (or, if so, how):

• a personal commitment to God in Christ
• a commitment to action so that the world transformed for God
• a sense of Scripture as a sacrament of revelation

Christ's death and resurrection as God's focal mechanism of cosmic reconciliation
I am not sure that the social group that was twentieth century evangelicalism is on the wane so much as its heirs are changing. My wording above in itself reflects some of the ways in which it may change. I do doubt that evangelicalism as the Republican special interest group it has been will have much power going forward. But, then again, I would have said that in 2000 right before 9-11 and would have been completely wrong.

I think Ken is on to something in noting the decline of a particular strain of what has, perhaps incorrectly, been popularly identified as "evangelicalism" since the latter half of the twentieth century. He is also correct in pointing to a much broader, and less static, movement within the church--far broader than that narrowly defined by Bebbington and Noll--that will continue to exercise influence for the foreseeable future.

Ironically, McKnight's original post is flanked with a photo of the late Jerry Falwell who, while being the very embodiment of the "Religious Right" in its heyday, was an oldline fundamentalist who never really fit either the classical or contemporary definition of "evangelical."

"Near heaven" experiences: Is the glass half empty or half full?

I am not a fan of books about "near death experiences." Most such works are sentimental fare by writers who claim to have had some kind of encounter with the hereafter but don't seem too interested in subjecting said encounters to rigorous theological analysis. I actually know several people who have had such experiences, but they tend to be humble folk who don't talk about them very often, much less write books about them.

In a most charitable piece for Christianity Today, editor Mark Galli explores the most recent spate of book on what he prefers to call "near heaven" experiences. After analyzing the evidence and considering the trustworthiness of the witnesses, Galli concludes:

Mark Galli

To be sure, while these narratives preach a key aspect of the Good News, they fail to preach the full gospel. There is little that points to the centrality of Jesus Christ in the scope of redemption. No mention is made of Christ's life, death, or resurrection in these accounts. But I think it fair to say that from a Christian perspective, it is only because of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection that anyone can have such extraordinary divine encounters in the first place. 

And that's precisely what the church can bring to these narratives—a full-orbed gospel, one centered on Jesus Christ, the revelation of God, and the hope of the world. In fact, some of the narratives beg for such. Take Alexander's description of God, whom he calls Om:

One of the biggest mistakes people make when they think about God—or Allah, or Vishnu, or Jehova, or whatever you choose to call that Source of absolute power, that Creator that rules the universe—is to imagine Om as impersonal. Yes, God is behind the numbers, the perfection of the universe that science measures and struggles to understand. But—again, paradoxically—Om is "human" as well—even more human than you and I are. Om understands and sympathizes with our human situation more profoundly and personally than we can even imagine ….

As they say, that will preach. Alexander may be confused about which God he ran into, but we certainly aren't.

This to me is the great redeeming characteristic of near-heaven experiences. Despite their varied accounts and sometimes confused theology, there are moments when it is apparent that many of these people have had a remarkable encounter with the living God revealed in Jesus Christ. In the end, these are not so much near-death or near-heaven experiences, but, as a friend noted, near-God experiences. And when we see that people, even those who do not share our biblical assumptions, experience the God revealed in Jesus Christ—that is, the God of unconditional love—we cannot help but be thrilled and gratified. And to see it as an opportunity to talk about the full counsel of God.

Galli takes a "glass half full" perspective. He acknowledges the problems with the quirky, even absurd, theology that often arises out of such experiences, but also sees an opportunity for more mature believers to inject the fullness of the Gospel into the discussion.

A harder line is taken by John MacArthur acolyte Phil Johnson of Grace to You Ministries. In a radio interview, Johnson not only chastises Christian publishing companies for publishing books about near death experiences (an argument which may actually have some merit) but also takes Galli to task for giving them a hearing via Christianity Today. Johnson expresses some legitimate concerns, but his harsh tone, echoing that of MacArthur (whom I have long considered one of the most polarizing figures in American evangelicalism), makes the bulk of his comments unpalatable. A glass that is half empty cries out to be filled with, to use Galli's words, "the full counsel of God."

It is difficult to see how Johnson is extending grace to anyone while harboring such a displeasurable attitude.

Pat Robertson meets Michael Nesmith

Pat Robertson has stepped in it again. It is somewhat tiresome to continue chronicling the missteps of this aging relic of pop culture evangelicalism, but the amusement factor seems to be elevated every time he opens his mouth. The latest target of his pungent commentary on current events is -- What else? -- the David Petraeus affair.

The Christian Broadcasting Network (CBN) has issued a statement defending its chairman Pat Robertson's recent comments on the military sex scandal involving CIA Director Gen. David Petraeus and author Paula Broadwell, saying that Robertson's comments have been skewed in an attempt to discredit the famed televangelist.
Chris Roslan, spokesman for CBN, issued a statement shortly after Robertson's comments, which he made on the Monday, Nov. 12 and Tuesday, Nov. 13 episodes of the "The 700 Club", CBN's flagship program.

"In his comments about General Petraeus, Dr. Robertson clearly stated that he does not condone sexual immorality, a fact that was left out by certain bloggers in an effort to discredit him," Roslan stated, according to Gawker.com.

Robertson first spoke on Gen. Petraeus' affair on Monday, when he told "The 700 Club" viewers that the affair between Petraeus and his biographer, Paula Broadwell, was a matter of "propinquity."

"[Petraeus] is a Lieutenant Colonel, [Broadwell] is an extremely good-looking woman," Robertson said on Monday's episode.

"She is a marathon runner, [...] she's running with him and she's writing a biography. I think the term is 'propinquity,' and there was a lot of propinquity going on," Robertson added.

"I mean, who knows? The man's off in a foreign land, and he's lonely, and here's a good-looking lady throwing herself at him. I mean, he's a man," Robertson concluded.

The ordained Southern Baptist minister spoke on the military scandal again on Tuesday's episode of "The 700 Club", saying of Gen. Petraeus: "He's got four stars, he's written a book on counterinsurgency, he's the acknowledged expert in the world, he's one of the greatest generals America has ever produced, yet he can't keep his pants zipped."

Joel Miller was quick to criticize Robertson and his unique choice of words.

Petraeus and Broadwell came together while she worked on her book about him. “I think the word is ‘propinquity,’” said Robertson, then joked, “There was a lot of propinquity going on.”

It’s worth looking at that word. Propinquity — personal proximity that results in attraction — is hardly an excuse for infidelity. If anything the Christian tradition outright warns people about it. After being propositioned on several occasions, Joseph runs away from his temptress. Solomon warns his son to stay clear of the seductress. Paul tells us to make no provision for our fleshly lusts. And Jesus says to look on someone lustfully is the same as committing adultery.

Ever wonder how TMZ breaks celebrity news? They go where celebrities are making news. It’s the same with infidelity. If you want something, go where it happens. If you don’t want it, stay away.

It is highly unlikely that Pat Robertson is a connoisseur of the music of erstwhile Monkee and country rock pioneer Michael Nesmith. Up until now, however, I had rarely heard "propinquity" used in any other context than this:

Conrad Mwebe on the curse of motivational speaking

Conrad Mwebe wants to exorcise from the church the meddlesome curse of "motivational speaking" popularized by the likes of Joel Osteen (definitely not one of my favorites). H/T to Stand Firm.

Sadly, motivational speaking has become the staple diet of many evangelical pulpits. The message being heard is, “God has put the potential in you and all you need to do is believe in yourself to unlock that potential. Have a grand vision and live out that vision. You must be a man or woman of destiny and the sky will be the limit for you. Don’t let your past failures get in your way of success. Look beyond them, as Jesus looked beyond the cross and thus overcame it. You are the head and not the tail. ”

In the light of the plethora of motivational speaking, it begs the question, “Is this how Old Testament and New Testament preachers preached?” If I summarise the preaching of Noah, Moses, Elijah, Isaiah, Jonah, Paul, Peter, etc., in the Bible, is this the kind of message that I will find there? I do not think so. Granted, motivational speakers borrow words from these men, but borrowing someone’s words is not the same thing as saying what he is saying. “A text without a context is a pretext.”

My chief quarrel with motivational speaking is that it reduces God to a means rather than an end. Men and women are not made to see that the nature of SIN lies in the letter “I” in the middle of the word. Instead, motivational speaking feeds that same ego and points to God as the one who can spoil it to the point of intoxication. That is a lie! It is God alone who must be at the centre of our lives. Christianity demands a dying to self, a taking up of one’s cross, and a following after a suffering Saviour.

Whenever I listen to motivational speaking, I seem to hear the message, “Peace, peace,” where there is no peace. It sounds to me like a doctor assuring a patient who has terminal cancer in its final stages that he should not worry because all will be okay if he only believes in himself. The guy is dying, man, for crying out loud! It is the height of insincerity if a preacher knows that the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23) and instead makes those heading for the slaughterhouse feel nice.

Motivational speaking makes people feel good, whereas the gospel first makes people feel bad—until they find their all in Christ. True preaching must make people face the fact that they are living in rebellion against God and that they need to repent or they will perish. It is only as people recognise this and cry out, “What shall we do to be saved?” (Acts 2:37, 16:30) that true preaching gives them the good news, “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Romans 10:13).

Motivational speaking is an attempt at trying to kill a charging lion with a pea-gun, using freshly cooked peas, spiced with the most aromatic seasonings. The aroma may be tantalizing to the taste buds, but it is totally useless in bringing down that ferocious beast. Men and women outside Christ are DEAD in trespasses and sins. Exciting their senses with nice-sounding platitudes will not give them life. They need the law to kill their fallen egos and the gospel of Jesus Christ to give them life.

I know that motivational speaking is filling up our church buildings until they look like football stadiums. In this world of misery and gloom, we can all do with some encouragement. But is that all that we were called to do as preachers? What good is it if men feel inspired and motivated, and then go back home to live a life of sin and selfishness? Sadly this is the norm in so many evangelical churches. The churches are filled to capacity with people determined to drink sin like water the whole week.

Motivational speaking is not biblical preaching. It is a blight on the landscape of true evangelicalism. It is filling the churches with dead people who are being told to live as if they are alive. We need to return to the good old gospel that truly gives life to the dead and sets men and women free. Like Paul of old, every truly evangelical pulpit must sound out the clear message of “repentance towards God and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ” (Acts 20:21). Let us get rid of this curse of motivational speaking!

This is not going to end well for the NAE

Marvin Olasky and Mark Tooley are reporting on a disturbing alliance between the National Association of Evangelicals (NAE) and The National Campaign to Prevent Teen and Unplanned Pregnancy, an organization funded by the pro-abortion Hewlett Foundation. Preliminary information suggests this is a marriage bought and paid for in hell.

Here are several items worth considering now, beginning with the money trail. During the past decade the Hewlett Foundation, one of the nation’s largest abortion promoters, gave The National Campaign nearly $50 million. The National Campaign in turn gave $1 million to the NAE in 2008 and is now negotiating with the NAE a new grant that would “continue the work started under the previous grant,” according to National Campaign chief program officer Bill Albert.

The $1 million (apparently for use over several years) was not much by Hewlett or National Campaign standards, but it’s big for the NAE, which had a total budget of about $1 million in 2009, 2010, and 2011, according to the Evangelical Council for Financial Accountability. And what exactly is “the work” that will continue if the NAE gets another grant?

Here’s an example: The NAE sponsored a panel in April at the Q Gathering in Washington, D.C., where young evangelicals gathered to hear speakers and panels address numerous topics, including abortion reduction. According to Q founder Gabe Lyons, the NAE “highly recommended” for inclusion in the panel the speaker who ended up dominating it, National Campaign CEO Sarah Brown—without disclosing its financial connection to her.

Brown urged contraceptives for the unmarried as well as the married. No one on the panel disagreed. When it concluded, 372 audience members had the opportunity to answer electronically this question, "Do you believe churches should advocate contraception for their single 20-somethings?" Almost two-thirds voted yes.

News reports trumpeted that result as evidence that the debate over contraceptive use by the unmarried is over, since even evangelicals favor it. In this and other ways, the National Campaign’s grant paid off.

The NAE has had its share of public relations problems ever since the downfall of its infamous former president Ted Haggard. However, its leftward slide began with the unholy crusade of its former director of government affairs Richard Cizik, who resigned under pressure in 2008 after stating that he was "shifting his views on same sex unions." Current president Leith Anderson now appears to have also gone wobbly on the subject.

Meanwhile, the Minneapolis Star Tribune reports that Anderson, who retired last year as pastor of a large Minnesota church, will not take a public stand on that state’s upcoming vote on the definition of marriage. “When churches start getting really politically engaged, they often lose focus over what is their primary mission,” Anderson told the newspaper. “There are appropriate times to do it [be politically engaged]. I think churches should, but they need to be careful about what they do. I especially think churches should seek to be nonpartisan in their approach to teaching moral truths.”

Anderson recalled he had stated his opposition to same-sex marriage in 2004 while at the church. NAE officially opposes same-sex marriage. But in recent years NAE has moved away from its traditional focus on social issues and increasingly has endorsed more politically liberal causes. Under Anderson’s presidency NAE has opposed U.S. enhanced interrogation techniques, called for nuclear disarmament, and endorsed Comprehensive Immigration Reform including legalization for illegal immigrants. Last Friday, Anderson publicly backed President Obama’s decision to stop enforcing U.S. immigration law against illegal immigrants under age 31 who assert they came to the U.S. as minors.

If Anderson is quoted correctly, he seems to believe the church should not vigorously affirm laws upholding the traditional definition of marriage. But he thinks the church should publicly espouse very specific positions on issues like immigration law and national security, where Christian teachings are not so traditionally defined.

It gets worse. In 2010, the NAE adopted a resolution seeking "common ground" and "fresh national dialogue" on the subject of reducing the number of abortions in the United States. Cizik's successor, Galen Carey, said at the time that partnering with notorious pro-abortion groups like Planned Parenthood was a possibility. It would seem logical to conclude that the alliance between the NAE and the Campaign is an outgrowth of the 2010 resolution.

This is not going to end well. No story involving the selling out of principle for political expediency and social acceptance ever does.

J.I. Packer on the Puritans

The distinguished Anglican theologian discusses his personal testimony, his lifelong fascination with the Puritans, and the influence of Martin Lloyd-Jones.

Leithart: Evangelicals and Eucharistic neglect

Peter J. Leithart knocks this one out of the park with the bases loaded -- a grand slam!

I was recently asked to identify the biggest cultural challenge facing American Evangelicals. In my judgment, the biggest cultural challenge is not “out there” in “the culture” but internal–I almost said, “inherent”–to Evangelicalism: the persistent marginalization of the Eucharist in Evangelical church life, piety, and political engagement. Evangelicals will be incapable of responding to the specific challenges of our time with any steadiness or effect until the Eucharist becomes the criterion of all Christian cultural thinking and the source from which all genuinely Christian cultural engagement springs.

The church is called to keep our Lord Jesus, his death and resurrection, as the focal point of worship, witness, service, and mission. How do we protect ourselves from darting off after each fresh fad? Jesus didn’t think Christ-centered preaching would be enough. He left his church not only a gospel to preach, but rites of water, bread, and wine to practice. It’s difficult to forget Christ and his cross when we proclaim his death in the breaking of bread at the climax of every week’s worship. When the Sign seals the Word, the church becomes a communion of martyrs ready to bear the cross because they have consumed the cross.

Our problem is missiological as much as it is ecclesial and liturgical. Jesus asked His Father to make the disciples “one even as we are . . . perfected in unity so that the world may know that you sent me” (John 17:11, 23). What makes us think we can preach the gospel effectively from the ruins of a splintered church? Do we expect to evangelize the world when we cannot even eat together? We confess that the church is one and catholic, but what we confess, we deny at the table. The world notes the hypocrisy, and moves on.

Sharing the Supper forges us into a corporate body that participates in Christ through the Spirit. By the Spirit, we become what we receive: “We are one body because we partake of one loaf” (1 Corinthians 10:16-17). In practice, Evangelicals don’t partake, and so we aren’t a body. When we do partake, we don’t partake together. We aren’t a body with many members so much as an aggregation of individuals. There’s little point in asking what “message” the “church” needs to proclaim unless we can speak of a church with something resembling a message.

In addition to the ecclesial, the political consequences of our Eucharistic neglect are almost beyond calculation. The great French Catholic Henri de Lubac traced in intricate detail how the sacredness of the table slowly migrated first to consecrate the institutional church and then to sanctify the state. Evangelicals are intensely protective of the “sanctity” of the flag, but many would be puzzled at the classic Eucharistic announcement, “Holy things for holy people.” Lacking a rightly ordered Supper, modern Christians wrap nationalism in a veil of sanctity, with sometimes-horrific results. In the U.S., Christians are frequently urged to give political support to this or that variation of Americanism. There is no genuinely Christian alternative because the church has no defined public shape with the resilience to withstand the political forces that press in on us.

As it is in politics, so is it in economics. Because we don’t take our bearings from the table, the growing debate among Evangelicals about how to constitute a just economy lists awkwardly from hedonism to asceticism and back. The Supper ritualizes a Christian vision of production and distribution as it catches up our economics into the economy of God. By the Spirit, bread and wine, products of human labor, become vehicles for communion with Christ.

As the Russian Orthodox theologian Alexander Schmemann pointed out long ago, the Supper discloses the purpose and destiny of all creation. Not only this bread, but all bread, all products of human work, can be means of fellowship with God and one another. Further, we receive these products of human labor, with thanks; as a gift of God. Thus the table discloses the mystery of the creature’s participation in the Creator’s creativity, and this participation produces goods that are ours only as gifts received, goods to be shared and enjoyed in communion.

The Supper closes the gap between joy in creation and pious devotion to God. At the table, delight in the taste of bread and the tang of wine is delight in God, though this double delight is not unique to this meal. Every meal and every moment, every encounter and every project burst with the promise of communion with God. This world, Schmemann said, is the matter of God’s kingdom.

Evangelicals move away to Constantinople or Rome at an alarming rate, often because they lose hope of finding even a glimmer of liturgical piety in Evangelical churches. They’re hungry, and they believe they have found where the banquet is happening. Luther and Calvin would be aghast, for in their eyes the Reformation was an effort to restore priestly food to all of God’s priests as well as an effort to recover the gospel of grace.

All the cultural and political challenges that Evangelicals face come back to the Supper. It’s important to do it right, but it’s more important to do it and to do it together. Until we do, most of our cultural chatter will continue to glance harmlessly off our targets. Until we do, Evangelicals will flop and flounder with every cultural wind and wave.

Sad but true observations on evangelicalism from David French

David French reflects on the waning cultural influence of evangelicals, even as their political influence has continued to rise. It is a sobering analysis, sad but true.

. . . During my years in the pews, I’ve witnessed a moral collapse — and a corresponding collapse in positive influence over the real lives not just of our fellow congregants but also of our fellow citizens in need. Of course it’s difficult to present a compelling witness when our own practices and lifestyle are often indistinguishable from the larger culture, but the problems get more specific. Here are three:

1. We are more focused on meeting the material needs of the poor than their spiritual needs. Spend much time in the evangelical community, and you’ll soon learn that the old-fashioned Gospel-focused mission trip is largely a thing of the past. Now, you go build schools. Now, you go dig water wells. Now, you repair houses. These are worthy goals, all, but service projects by themselves don’t change hearts and minds, they often make (frequently) self-inflicted misery more bearable. Service must be accompanied by intentional, vocal evangelism and discipling.

2. We go on sinning so that grace may abound. The secular stereotype of the modern evangelical — as a judgmental moralizer — is so wrong as to be laughable. Everywhere you go, preachers reject this model entirely, emphasizing, for example, “divorce recovery,” therapy, and treatment for the consequences of sin. Again, these are worthy things, but Christ and the Apostle Paul also emphasized holiness and discipline. How often has your church actually disciplined adulterers? How often have you intervened in the life of a friend before they made devastating mistakes? Our desire to be liked trumps all, and suffering is the result.

3. We church-shop, seeking to meet our needs rather than serving the church. This echoes Douthat’s point above. Church-switching is pernicious. Not only does the church “market” breed selfishness, it also makes pastors market-oriented. As you survey church after church, each doing things their own way, ask yourself, which of these church institutions will still be present and viable in 50 years? Or 100 years? Or 1,000? Evangelicals often look askance at Catholics, but which of our churches has even lasted since the Reformation? We cannot build institutions when our focus is on building the self.

I once heard it said that following the social and political disruptions of the 1960s and early 1970s, religious conservatives decided that they had to win elections, while secular leftists decided to win the culture — and both groups succeeded. So now here we are, enjoying unprecedented influence on presidential outcomes even as our cultural foundation rots away beneath our feet. Not even the best presidential candidate will fix the family, nor will our most generous service project save a soul.

[Jesus said,] "For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul? For what can a man give in return for his soul? For whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him will the Son of Man also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

(Mark 8:36-38 ESV)

You can't make this stuff up: "All we are saying is give sex a chance!"

Cheesy gimmicks by flamboyant preachers are an unfortunate by-product of "contextualization," the watchword of the "Emergent" crowd and other pop culture evangelicals. In the case of Ed Young, however, the gimmickry is rapidly degenerating from Belgioso to Velveeta.

Evangelical pastor Ed Young believes Christians should practice what they preach, which is why he and his wife Lisa plan to spend 24 hours this Friday in bed on the roof of his church, streaming the marathon bed-in live on the Internet.

No, the Youngs won't be having sex, though that's an important part of the message they're spreading to members of their megachurch in Grapevine, Texas. Instead, the couple will be hosting an open discussion about marriage, relationships, sex and other topics covered in their new book, "Sexperiment: 7 Days to Lasting Intimacy with Your Spouse," which explores ways for married Christian couples to develop and maintain healthy sex lives. 

"Tragically, culture has kicked the bed out of church and God out of the bed," Rev. Ed Young told the Christian Post. "It's time to bring God back in the bed and put the bed back in the church. That's what this bed-in is all about."

Starting at 6 a.m. on Friday, Jan. 13, the Youngs plan to begin streaming their daylong discussion of sex and intimacy on their book's official website, the Christian Post reports.

They're also encouraging audience members to submit questions or discussion topics via Facebook and Twitter as they present their views on marriage, some of which continue to raise eyebrows.

One belief in particular, the "seven-day sex challenge" for which "Sexperiment" is named, gained national attention when the Youngs introduced it to parishioners in 2008.

The couple challenged Christian couples to have sex every day for a week in the belief that open and active sex lives, strengthens the bond between married couples and reduces temptation for pornography and other addictions.

The challenge has certainly proven successful for the Youngs, who have been "happily married" for nearly 30 years, working together to run the church Ed founded. Preaching to a congregation estimated at around 30,000, Young's influence continues to grow as he hosts a weekly television program and promotes the numerous books he's written prior to "Sexperiment."

According to WFAA-TV News Dallas, which conducted an investigation on Young in 2010, the pastor earns a salary worth about $1 million per year and generates untold profits from various intellectual property holdings including books, sermons, television programs, and mailing lists obtained from church marketing websites.

Such an outrageous publicity stunt is as hip as last century's headlines. Pastor and Mrs. Young seem to be taking their cue not from Jesus, but from two gurus in drag.

Christians for a Sustainable Economy make their CASE

David French introduces a new coalition to counter the Religious Left on economic issues. I'd say it's about time the claims of Jim Wallis and company were openly challenged.

Over the past several weeks I’ve been writing about the religious Left’s relentless effort to wrap its arms around big government and, disturbingly, the progress it’s making in divorcing evangelicals (especially young evangelicals) from fiscal and economic common sense. Jim Wallis and other religious leftists have formed a so-called “Circle of Protection” whose purpose is to ask, “What would Jesus cut?” This coalition — which gained an audience with President Obama two weeks ago — views federal budgeting practices that would ruin households, corporations, and local and state governments as not just fiscally appropriate but morally imperative.

The time has come to push back, to let the president and the public know that the religious Left does not speak for the entire faith community and that there is another relevant question to ask as we face a deficit crisis: “Whom would Jesus indebt?” I — along with my ACLJ colleague Jordan Sekulow — have joined an informal coalition of Christian leaders called “Christians for a Sustainable Economy.” As our first act, we’ve sent our own letter to President Obama. It begins:

Recently, in the midst of the debt-ceiling crisis, a group calling themselves the “Circle of Protection,” led by Jim Wallis of the activist group Sojourners, met with you and your staff to claim that biblical mandates preclude limits to federal programs for low-income people. The Circle includes representatives of the National Association of Evangelicals, Bread for the World, and the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops.

Wallis and the “Circle of Protection” do not speak for all Christians. However laudable their intentions, the consequence of their action is to provide a religious imprimatur for big government and sanctify federal welfare programs that are often ineffective — even counterproductive. Contrary to their founding “Statement,” we do not need to “protect programs for the poor.” We need to protect the poor themselves. Indeed, sometimes we need to protect them from the very programs that ostensibly serve the poor, but actually demean the poor, undermine their family structures and trap them in poverty, dependency and despair for generations. Such programs are unwise, uncompassionate, and unjust.

The answer is not higher taxes and more government spending:

The debt disaster is a spending issue. Tax revenues are finite, while the growth of government is unceasing. By any measure, federal spending has skyrocketed, from $2.9 trillion in 2008 to $3.8 trillion in 2011. We presently borrow over forty cents of every dollar we spend. While increasing taxes will generate additional revenues and reduce the deficit in the short term, it will ultimately harm the economy, constrain economic growth, and hasten the out-of-control growth of government. To give more money to Washington is to give the sickness the remedy it requests. The last thing the government needs is more money. It needs to cease its unwise and profligate spending.

And what is the true moral imperative? The letter puts its well:

We believe the poor of this generation and generations to come are best served by policies that promote economic freedom and growth, that encourage productivity and creativity in every able person, and that wisely steward our common resources for generations to come.

The letter represents just one step in a long battle to educate Americans — of all faiths — that the poor are not best served by welfare and that hundreds of billions of dollars of Great Society entitlements have not eradicated poverty but have instead created a permanent underclass and stifled the social mobility that is one of the cornerstones of the American dream. You can sign the letter as well and lend your voice to a new and vital effort.

Evangelicals and teetotalism: Not exactly the way of the Puritans

Thomas S. Kidd would like his fellow Southern Baptists (and evangelicals in general) to loosen up a bit when it comes to enjoying the occasional adult beverage, pointing out that their forerunners in fundamentalism were much less prudish in the face of human suffering.

In the book Fire From Heaven: Life in an English Town in the Seventeenth Century, the late Yale historian David Underdown tells a story of how the Puritans of Dorchester adopted an unusual tactic to assist the town's poor: they opened a brewery. As in many English towns of the 17th century, problems of overcrowding led many residents and their children to the edge of destitution. But the Puritans' vision of salvation was holistic: the godly would demonstrate their souls' transformation by God in good works. They would not allow their fellow families to go hungry while they had the means to do something about it. So they opened the brewhouse, using proceeds from beer sales to bring poor children to school, instruct them in the faith and in useful vocations, and give them clothes and food. The brewhouse was a wonderful success, and significantly helped to alleviate the problem of poverty in Dorchester.

But things changed over the years and by the early nineteenth century, human suffering had taken on a different form, thus calling for a different kind of reform.

Teetotalism responded to a serious evil, alcohol abuse, which was more prevalent in antebellum America than it is today. Historians estimate that Americans probably drank about five gallons of alcohol per capita per year in those days, more than double today's rate. This was partly because alcoholic beverages were often safer and more nourishing than other options, such as unreliable water supplies. But the high demand also reflected a tendency among many Americans—men, in particular—to overindulge. Drunkenness and alcoholism produced its typical fruits, including domestic violence and poverty.

The temperance movement reacted to a real social and medical problem. We should not dismiss it as a product of Victorian prudishness. But then a focus on reducing alcohol abuse morphed into the conviction that it was a sin for any person to take a drink, period. This was a simpler approach, but it is not biblical.

Whatever teetotalers may say, they cannot get around the fact that Jesus turned water into wine, and that Paul told Timothy in 1 Timothy 5:23 to stop drinking water alone, but to use wine to help his stomach ailments. (Teetotalers will respond that these beverages had very low alcohol content, an assertion not revealed in scripture, either.) A strict ban on alcohol for all Christians is a position of recent vintage (pun intended), with almost no precedent in church history before the 1800s.

Church history, particularly in America,is replete with similar examples of the spirit of legalism quenching a legitimate movement of the Holy Spirit. There was a time when holiness churches raised funds for mission work by asking worshipers who felt so led to leave their fine jewelry (wedding bands, earrings, necklaces, etc.) on the altar so the gold could be melted down and converted to currency. Within a generation, this voluntary act of sacrificial self-giving had been codified into a prohibition against the wearing of jewelry altogether.

Faced as it is today with numerous social and missional concerns, the church needs to learn from these sad chapters in its history and guard against the encroachment of legalism.

James K.A. Smith on the new "evangelical" universalism

Old school universalism ("many roads lead to God") has pretty much worn out its welcome among the pantheon of heresies and heterodoxies. But, as James K.A. Smith observes, there is a new form of universalism now emerging (pun intended) and its adherents claim to be of the evangelical persuasion. Unlike their predecessors, these "evangelical universalists" have no objection to the unique claims of Jesus Christ. Their objection is to certain ideas of God which run counter to their "hope" and "imagination."

Let's attend to these two specific sorts of claims. I would note that both of these intuitions are fundamentally anthropocentric strategies--outcomes of what Charles Taylor (in A Secular Age) calls "the anthropocentric turn" in modernity. A couple of thoughts:

1) The "I-can't-imagine" strategy is fundamentally Feuerbachian: it is a hermeneutic of projection which begins from what I can conceive and then projects "upwards," as it were, to a conception of God. While this "imagining" might have absorbed some biblical themes of love and mercy, this absorption seems selective. More importantly, the "I-can't-imagine" argument seems inattentive to how much my imagination is shaped and limited by all kinds of cultural factors and sensibilities--including how I "imagine" the nature of love, etc. The "I-can't-imagine" argument makes man the measure of God, or at least seems to let the limits and constraints of "my" imagination trump the authority of Scripture and interpretation. I take it that discipleship means submitting even my imagination to the discipline of Scripture. (Indeed, could anything be more countercultural right now than Jonathan Edwards' radical theocentrism, with all its attendant scandals for our modern sensibilities?)

2) The "at-least-I-hope" strategy might seem less problematic. Doesn't it just name what all of us secretly desire? Indeed, wouldn't we be quite inhuman if we didn't hope in this way? (Then you get Winner's obnoxious suggestion that any of those who continue to affirm divine judgment are really trying to "guard heaven's gate," taking a certain delight in exclusion, as if they saw heaven as a country club. I won't dignify that with a response.)

But whence this hope? Can our hopes ever be wrong? Let's try an analogous example: I love my wife dearly. She is the best thing that ever happened to me, and our marriage has been an incredible means of grace in my life. I can't imagine life without her; indeed, I don't want to imagine life without her. And I want to hope that we will share this intimacy as a husband and wife forever.

But then I run into this claim from Jesus: "At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven" (Matt. 22:30). Should I nonetheless hope that marriage endures in eternity? Should I profess that I can't know this (since Scripture seems to suggest otherwise), but nonetheless claim that somehow hoping it might be true is still faithful? Or should I submit even my hopes to discipline by the authority of Scripture?

The new universalism is not the old universalism. Fair enough. But those of us who reject even the new universalism aren't gleeful about it. We might even wish it were otherwise. But we also recognize that even our wishes, hopes, and desires need discipline.

Unfortunately, the one thing the "new universalists" have in common with the "old universalists" is an aversion to anything remotely resembling discipline. After all, if we're all going to end up in the same place in the hereafter, what's the point of fine tuning our lives in the here and now?

Women's ordination: An unhelpful and unpersuasive argument

Scot McKnight is asking for input on the role of women in local churches. He includes this piece by Vaun Swanson which, my own beliefs about women's ordination aside, I find neither helpful nor persuasive for one glaringly obvious reason.

Why would the Christian community reject or fail to support well-trained female ministers when the apparent need for ministers is so great throughout the world? The Barna Research group has investigated gender differences in the American population. Among their findings women are more likely than men to read the Bible, attend church, pray, be born again, believe the Bible is totally accurate in all of its teachings, and describe themselves as “deeply spiritual.” Historically, women have been the backbone of churches. It is only logical that women would desire to attend seminary as a means of better equipping themselves for ministry. Because of the advances women have made in the non-church culture, however, women now expect the same level of respect, compensation, and leadership opportunities afforded men with similar training.

Unfortunately, the Christian culture in America is still struggling to accept women clergy. Even though women are more prevalent in seminaries, women clergy from every denomination continue to bump up against the “stained-glass ceiling” of longstanding limits, preferences, and prejudices. As part of a doctoral thesis project, I surveyed women who had graduated from a major evangelical seminary between 1996 and 2006. The percentage of female graduates finding appropriate ministry positions following graduation was shockingly low. In all, only thirteen percent of the women responding to the survey said they were working full-time in a ministry position, either within a church or a Christian organization in which they used their gifts and training and could unqualifiedly support themselves financially.

It is clear that American culture and the American church are following divergent paths regarding women. American culture is liberating women at the same time the church is systematically holding them back. Power struggles over what women can and cannot do are playing out in churches and denominations that are becoming more irrelevant to the culture-at-large every day. Seminary-trained women are caught in a vicious crossfire that very few anticipated when they responded to God’s call to become better equipped for ministry in the kingdom of God. Far too many good women are not finding ministry positions that will both utilize their training and abilities and support them financially. Rather than continuing to bang on the doors of these religious structures, women may need to work together to discover viable alternative ministry paths in which they can empower others and thrive in the use of their gifts and training. Trained female ministers are needed to address the serious spiritual, emotional, and physical issues women in America are facing in the twenty-first century. Women and men who believe this need to pull financial support from patriarchal and hierarchical Christian churches and organizations and invest it in those that affirm their equality. With God’s help, and the leadership of both female and male gifted ministers who have been set free, we can change our world for the better.

Now, before I reveal why I have problems with Swanson's argument, I would like to give other readers the opportunity to beat me to the punch. Laying aside your beliefs, one way or the other, concerning the topic of discussion, what do you think is the glaringly obvious reason for my saying this article is neither helpful nor persuasive?

Have at it!

Beckwith on the catholicity of evangelicalism and the irrelevance of Donald Miller

Francis Beckwith's advice to young evangelicals may be difficult for them to hear, but they would do well to heed his call to return, if not to Rome (as he has), certainly to a faith that retains a respectable degree of catholicity.

What I mean by Evangelicalism’s catholicity is its traditional allegiance to classical Christian orthodoxy and all that it entails about the good, the true, and the beautiful, including its commitment to the authority of Scripture and the veracity and normativity of the Catholic creeds. This is why if Evangelicalism is to survive, it has to grow up and not “emerge.” It needs the wisdom of David Wells’s The Courage to Be Protestant rather than the beatnik aphorisms of Donald Miller’s Oprah-fied narrative, Blue Like Jazz. It needs more Augustine and less Pelagius, and a theological and pastoral leadership that understands that it is not above its pay grade to suggest to its people that a purpose-driven life requires a purpose-driven death.

Writing in response to Lee Anderson's essay, "The New Evangelical Scandal," Beckwith confronts, quite forthrightly, the veneer of "authenticity" behind which so many theologically-thin young evangelicals hide.

According to Anderson, the young evangelicals are questioners: “For previous generations of evangelicals, questioning one’s faith was anathema. Now, it is a rite of passage, necessary for maturation and perfectly acceptable to God. It is, after all, part of the journey toward authentic faith.” As a philosophy professor, I love questions and questioners. I encourage my students to think critically about their faith. Jesus himself was the master questioner, always asking just the right question to the right people at just the right time. But the young evangelicals are selective, self-serving, questioners, just like their Baby Boomer grandparents. They have bumper stickers on their car saying “Keep your rosaries off my ovaries” and “Question Authority,” while not realizing that the truth of the first requires that you not question the driver’s authority. So, what the bumper should have is just one sticker that asserts, “Question everyone’s authority except mine.”

The young evangelicals are a lot like that. They like to “share their feelings” about how they believe they are constrained by what Anderson calls, “puritanical legalism,” because “Jesus really cares about the heart and our intentions.” But they are, at the same time, absolutely certain about lots of other things that they would never dream of questioning, such as “social justice” and environmental sustainability. Thus, they “know” precisely in what bin each piece of garbage should be deposited (you dare not show contempt for God’s creation), but they feel it is “judgmental” for one Christian to tell another Christian that it is wrong to have sex with one’s boyfriend or girlfriend regardless of the genders of the participants. Thus, they are dogmatists, “puritanical legalists,” about the proper end of garbage and recycling, but “thoughtful questioners” about the proper end of their reproductive organs within the confines of the one-flesh communion of husband and wife. This is, of course, exactly the direction in which secular culture is heading, about which the young evangelicals refuse to take a “skeptical, authentic, thoughtful” pose they claim their parents’ generation lacked. The acorn does not fall far from the oak tree after all. Sorry to say, but if your worldview has more in common with Al Gore than Thomas Aquinas, you are not a “questioner.”

If the young evangelicals are really serious about “struggle” and “authenticity,” they should ignore drama queens like Donald Miller and look to those who have actually lived it. Take, for example, my late grandmother, Frances Guido (1913-2002). She lost her husband (my grandfather) to stomach cancer in 1952. Widowed at the age of thirty-eight, she worked as a seamstress and provided each of her four children with twelve years of Catholic-school education.

Donald Miller's stature among young evangelicals is, to coin a phrase, ironically iconic. His own "authenticity" has been called into question, as we have explored previously. Beckwith is quite correct in characterizing him as a "drama queen" who ought to be, and ultimately will be, an irrelevant footnote in the history of Christianity in general and evangelicalism in particular.

What would Johann Gerhard say to Tony Campolo?

R.R. Reno chides left-leaning evangelical Tony Campolo for his embrace of an "antinomian" gospel.

In a recent posting, Tony Campolo effuses about the inclusive ministry of Jesus. Jesus, he writes, “was always reaching out to the marginalized.”

Therefore, he concludes, evangelicals need to affirm homosexuals and support the political effort to secure for gays and lesbians “all the same rights that the heterosexual community enjoys.”

“To reach out to the LGBT communities and join them in their cry for justice, and to champion their efforts for inclusion in our churches,” Campolo writes,” is to simply imitate Christ.”

Put simply, a true Christian must support the push for gay marriage.

Sigh. There are arguments for why traditional views of sexual morality should be rejected — utilitarian arguments, phenomenological arguments, arguments from cultural progress, and so forth. But decades ago I discovered that the theological arguments in favor of a complete reversal of Christian condemnations of homosexual acts involve eviscerating the Christian faith.

As I have stated before, the abandonment of the historic faith by contemporary evangelicalism, particularly with regard to biblical teaching on sexual morality, is painful to watch. One longs for the days when believers were shamed not by their failure to be "tolerant" or "inclusive," but by their failure to rebuke a neighbor's sinfulness. The sentiment expressed in this classic prayer from Meditations on Divine Mercy by Johann Gerhard stands in stark contrast to Campolo's misguided admonitions.

O Holy God, just Judge, You have committed to me not only the care of my own soul, but also the care of my neighbor's. But how often my carelessness causes great detriment to my neighbor's piety. How often I fail to rebuke my neighbor frankly and forthrightly for sin. How often I accuse my neighbor less forthrightly of faults, held back by fear or by a desire for my neighbor's favor. I am lax in praying for my neighbor's salvation (1 Timothy 2:1). I am timid in rebuking my neighbor for sin (Ezekiel 3:21). I am faint in the advancement of my neighbor's salvation. Thus You most righteously are able to hold me responsible for the blood of my perishing neighbor.

If my love for my neighbor were perfect and sincere, then that love would surely produce a candid and honest rebuke. If the fire of sincere love burned in my heart, then certainly it would flame more brightly as I offer the spiritual incense of prayer for my neighbor's salvation. We pray for ourselves all the time because we always are concerned for ourselves. But to ask God for the salvation of a neighbor is a work of love. When I do not pray for the salvation of my neighbor, I condemn myself by a violation of the law of love.

My neighbor dies a physical death, and I mourn and groan day and night, though physical death no harm to the godly person because it provides a transition to the heavenly kingdom. My neighbor dies a spiritual death by committing mortal sins, and I watch my neighbor die without concern. I am not grieved at all, though sin is the true death of the soul through which comes the inestimable loss of divine grace and eternal life. My neighbor offends the king, and I seek my neighbor's reconciliation by every means available. My neighbor offends the King of kings, who is able to dispatch soul and body to hell (Matthew 10:28), and I look on without concern. I do not consider this offense of the King to be an immeasurable evil. My neighbor stumbles on a stone, and I quickly prevent the fall or help my neighbor up from the fall. My neighbor stumbles at the Cornerstone of our salvation (Psalm 118:22), and I show careless neglect. Void of the concern and attentiveness I ought to have, I do not lift up my neighbor again. My sins are many and weighty enough, but still I am not afraid to participate in someone else's sins.

Be gracious, O God, I am a great and immeasurably burdened sinner. I carry my sins and the sins of others. I flee to Your mercy, which is promised to me in and through Christ. I, who am dead in sin, draw near to the Life (John 14:6). I, who am erring in the way of sin, draw near to the Way. I, who because of sin am worthy of damnation, draw near to the Salvation. Make me alive. Direct and save me for eternity, my true Life, Way, and Salvation. Amen.