Wednesday, January 19, 2011

"Legalism may sometimes be as debilitating to the church as the moral dangers against which the legalism has become the protection."

In one of Mark Minnick's Preserving the Truth conference talks (I think it was his first), he quoted from David Wells' article, "The Word in the World." I found Wells' article online here, and it's well worth reading the whole thing.

The article is a bit long for the internet, and below are two extended quotes (with the portion Minnick quoted in italics), also unusually long for the medium. But as so much that Wells writes, they're penetrating and provocative:
It is not difficult to see that Protestant fundamentalism in the twentieth century has been, in these ways, a sect.3 Although its stridency in the first decades of this century came to be moderated later on, its view of the world has nevertheless always been distinctive and discernibly different from what has been considered normal in society. Its sense of antithesis, both to the culture and to the liberalism within Christian faith, was sharp and painful. It developed its own religious jargon and formulated rules that rapidly became legalisms that covered everything from wearing lipstick, to dancing, to movies. It withdrew educationally, denominationally, and culturally and organized itself into enclaves from which the outside world was excluded. Within these enclaves, therapy and comfort were offered to those who, from time to time, might wonder about the world outside. And it is not hard to see how fundamentalist doctrine had both a religious and a cultural dimension, for as George Marsden notes, at the heart of the debate with the modernists was the question: “Should Christianity and the Bible be viewed through the lens of cultural development, or should culture be viewed through the lens of Scripture?”4

For example, that the Bible was to be viewed as inerrant and “literally” true was, at a doctrinal level, a way of asserting its inspiration; but at a cultural level it was also a way of rejecting literary criticism in the universities. And this criticism was simply symptomatic of the whole drift of modern education. The belief in miracles, which was at the heart of fundamentalism, was there because it is at the heart of the Bible; but the assertion of such a belief was also an unmistakable way of rejecting the naturalistic and secular temper of the day. The belief in divine creation was, at one level, the assertion of biblical teaching; but at another, it was a deliberate rejection of Darwinianism and was a way of defying the reigning cognitive paradigm in society. Dispensational premillenialism was seen to replicate biblical teaching, but it was also a way of rejecting ideas about the progress of humanity that were at the heart of the civil credo that dominated public thinking until quite recently.5 In fact, prior to Christ’s return things are going to get much worse, not much better. Fundamentalist doctrine thus served both to protect biblical truth and to fend off the modern world.

In retrospect, it is clear that many dangers attend the path of cognitive dissonance. It is not easy to reject the reigning cognitive paradigm without stumbling into anti-intellectualism. That was a turn that fundamentalism took.6 Nor is it easy to sustain a moral antithesis to culture without drifting into legalism. Legalism may sometimes be as debilitating to the church as the moral dangers against which the legalism has become the protection. Much of fundamentalism did become hidebound and legalistic. Fundamentalism also produced a profusion of authoritarian leaders who could resolve life’s dilemmas with a degree of certainty that is usually beyond the reach of mere mortals. The fundamentalist landscape was filled with such figures.

In the early post-War years, evangelicals were determined that they would not repeat the fundamentalists’ mistakes. They distanced themselves from their rather rough and belligerent cousins by speaking of themselves as “neo-evangelicals.” The language was Carl Henry’s, though it has usually been credited to Harold Ockenga. What was “neo” about them was that they would not be anti-intellectual, separatistic, legalistic, or culturally withdrawn. They shed fundamentalist uncouthness, earned Ph.D’s from the finest universities, sat at the ecumenical table, dispensed for the most part with dispensational premillenialism, and loosed themselves from most cultural taboos.

The final chapter has not yet been written on this experiment, but when the time comes there will be an interesting question to answer For all the warts and flaws of fundamentalism, it did succeed in preserving the Word of God and the Gospel. Will this also be true of the evangelicals? They are undoubtedly much nicer than the fundamentalists, but in the end will they fail where the fundamentalists had succeeded? That will be a delicious piece of irony if it turns out to be true.


CHRIST AND CULTURE

On the surface, the issue seems simple enough. Fundamentalists exhibited too much of the “Christ-against-Culture” animus, and evangelicals have too much of the old liberal “Christ-of-Culture” outlook.7 The earlier liberals, Niebuhr said, believed they “could live in culture as those who sought a destiny beyond but were not in strife with it.”8 That is what too many evangelicals are like today. From our church marketers to our respectable journals to some of our theologians,9 there is a rush to embrace cultural norms, habits, and tastes in hope of success and in the naive belief that it is all quite harmless and can be harnessed to this or that Christian cause with impunity. So at first glance the transition from fundamentalism to evangelicalism seems like one from too much strife with culture, in the one case, to too little with it in the other.

At root, however, it is a question of how to engage the culture without losing one’s soul. Fundamentalism feared losing its soul and so did not engage the culture; evangelicalism fears being different from the culture and is in danger of losing its soul.

[. . . and then the conclusion . . .]

There is, however, a final irony to note. It is this: In the Old and New Testaments, the moments of great impact in the world were never those in which the people of God became indistinguishable from those in their world. When this happened it was a moment of spiritual debauchery. In order to influence the world, the people of God have to be quite different from it cognitively and morally. The irony is that to be relevant, the church has to be otherworldly; and when this spiritual otherness is extinguished by the ache for this-worldly acceptance, it loses the thing that it wants above all else—relevance. The church eventually discovers, to its great dismay, that it has lost its voice and no longer has anything left to say. That is the discovery that now seems to be looming ahead of the evangelical world. It is the iceberg that awaits the Titanic as those on board persuade themselves of their invincibility and pass the days in partying.

11 comments:

Don Johnson said...

Ben, I'm wondering if you think the most important part of that piece is the sentence you pulled out for your headline?

Maranatha!
Don Johnson
Jer 33.3

Ben said...

Don, there are lots of great quotes in that article. I'd suppose that which quote is most important would vary depending on who's reading it.

brian said...

Another good line:

"The irony is that to be relevant, the church has to be otherworldly; and when this spiritual otherness is extinguished by the ache for this-worldly acceptance, it loses the thing that it wants above all else—relevance."

Couldn't agree more. But another variation might read:

"The irony is that to be separate the church feels it must be belligerently anti-world. And when love for the world is overcome by protection from the world, those who separate get more than what they wanted--total separation from any world they might want to reach, and even separation from their own brothers in Christ.

Don Johnson said...

But, Ben, I was asking for your opinion, not the generic 'who's reading it'...

I agree there are a lot of great quotes in the article.

Maranatha!
Don Johnson
Jer 33.3

Ben said...

Hey Don, sorry . . . not trying to be difficult here. Maybe I should have said, "Which quote I think is most important depends on who I'm talking to."

So here's one for you: Do you think that quote is true?

Ben said...

Brian, I think that's part of what Wells is saying in another of the best lines from this piece:

"At root, however, it is a question of how to engage the culture without losing one’s soul. Fundamentalism feared losing its soul and so did not engage the culture; evangelicalism fears being different from the culture and is in danger of losing its soul."

That's not to imply that all definitions of "engage the culture" are created equal.

Don Johnson said...

Hi Ben,

Do I think the quote is true?

First, the word 'legalism' is a bit loaded, as I am sure you are aware. One man's biblical conviction is another man's legalism.

Second, as I read that part of the article, I wondered if he would descend into the all too typical jabbing at fundamentalism without much real knowledge or understanding of fundamentalism.

So, as a general concept, I think that the quote could be true. But as it applies to fundamentalism, I'm not sure. I suppose one could say that some fundamentalists are legalists, but what I would mean by that term is that the person somehow thinks by keeping an external standard he is gaining merit with God. So... there are probably some who are indeed legalists.

But most fundamentalists, even the more culturally rigid ones, aren't keeping standards in order to gain merit with God, but out of a conscientious desire to obey what they understand God to be saying in his Word.

As such, I wouldn't think the quote is as applicable to fundamentalism as Wells thinks.

FWIW

Maranatha!
Don Johnson
Jer 33.3

Ben said...

Don, I'm not intending to raise an argument over what is or is not legalism and how many fundamentalists are guilty of it. I was curious in hearing whether you'd agree at a conceptual level, and I take it that you do.

I wouldn't even quarrel with your definition of legalism, though I do think there's a sense in which requiring of people what Scripture doesn't require must be closely linked to legalism. We certainly see that in Galatians, and that was a key component of the Pharisees' error, if you'd consider them legalists.

So if I preached that the Bible requires men to part their hair on the right side of their head, is that legalism? Maybe not. Maybe it's just stupidity and/or incompetence. But if I foster an environment that churns out people who are so confused that they think they have to part their hair on the right side of their heads to be mature believers/spiritual leaders, am I a legalist? I'm genuinely curious to hear your perspective, even though it's a bit tangential.

Or would it be legalistic to preach, "I can tell something about how spiritual a guy is by the length of his hair"? I heard that preached at The Wilds.

Don Johnson said...

Hi Ben,

Sorry to have wandered off on you, I had a little matter (annual business meeting) intervene and sort of forgot about this conversation.

Well, the parting the hair on the right side of the head is probably a bit hard to get our head around because I can't think of anyone who would hold to that, or why they would. Maybe you could start a new thing with it!

But let's use the length of hair thing, because that is a real item we are all probably pretty familiar with. Let's make your question fit that:

But if I foster an environment that churns out people who are so confused that they think they have to [wear their hair off the ear and off the back of the neck] to be mature believers/spiritual leaders, am I a legalist?

Yeah, I think that would be legalistic. I think the key is the 'mature believers' word, because one's level of maturity involves walking with Christ, personal Bible study and prayer, the inner working of the Spirit, and is NOT determined by how you cut your hair.

As I said in an earlier post, if you think keeping some law will make you more holy or acceptable to God, that is legalism. I would also say that if you parse the law (or God's word) in such a way that you can avoid fulfilling its requirements, that, too, is legalism, but of a slightly different kind. The Pharisees were good at both.

I tend to react when the word is used of Fundies, however, because I don't think most Fundies are truly legalistic. The way the word is used is as a pejorative and tends towards anti-nomianism. It's sort of a discussion killer.

I don't know if that answers your questions. Hope it adds a little light anyway.

Maranatha!
Don Johnson
Jer 33.3

Ben said...

Don,

Whether "most Fundies are truly legalistic" is both a qualitative and quantitative statement, which is difficult to assess on both points. I would argue that there's a widespread reality in which pastors and churches that would deny legalistic doctrine, at the same time foster legalistic atmospheres. They say the right things (mostly), but they create cultures that communicate far more powerfully than their words.

scott adam ALF said...

I have a stone given to me by my father and to him by his. It has two holes in it. Like religion it often has two points of view. The believers baptism(adult included) unites us in a common destiny. Once knowing we aim to please. Gottfried ALF my great grandfather shed light on this issue as a Anabaptist Baptist wandering in Poland dealing with this issue at the Galatians. As my Grandfather did on the plains around Deep Wells North Dakota. Often finding convergence with traditional Lakota traditions.