This year I read two of the saddest stories I can recall. The second was Reforming Fundamentalism by George Marsden, a zoom lens view of the demise of evangelicalism told via the history of Fuller Theological Seminary. The first was Evangelicalism Divided by Iain Murray, a wide-angle lens view of the demise of evangelicalism in the last half of the 20th century. Both stories were captivating to me, at least in the sense that a 10-car accident on the other side of the freeway is captivating. Marsden’s account was thorough and devastating, but he did not write with an agenda, or a specific thesis, as Murray did.
My purpose is not to review either book here, so I’ll not try to restate Murray’s thesis, but rather my response to it. After all, the Paleoevangelical of the Year award is about who influenced me most towards gospel-centered thinking and living. Without question, that person in 2005 was Iain Hamish Murray.
Murray tells the story of how ambitious evangelicals recognized the secularization of Western culture and the Church’s diminishing influence, and how they responded by repudiating their separatistic roots in order to partner with the mainline denominations. Their objective was essentially to evangelize the world through the person of a world-famous front-man (who was a player, not a dupe) and to revitalize those spiritually, numerically, and theologically bankrupt denominations.
They failed. Miserably.
But chances are, you knew that story. Murray’s unique contribution to me is two-fold. First, his documentation is impeccable. This is no screed laced with rumor and innuendo. I’ve looked for critiques from those who would have interest in knocking the blocks out from the foundation of his narrative. The only substantial factual disagreement I can recall of those that I read is tangential and only bolsters the integrity of those who are on his side of the battle. If any readers have encountered reviews that hold any substantial factual disagreement, I would be curious to know of them.
Murray’s second contribution is his tone. He tells the story in a voice that cannot conceal the heaviness of heart with which he writes—a heaviness sourced in two layers of sadness. The first is that the story took place. The second is that it has to be told, and he is the one telling it. Murray documents this slouch towards Babylon with none of the glee of which some past authors have been accused. His story is a burden that he is compelled to bear because of the gospel that demands a defense. I will grant that I may be reading too much into his tone because I heard him interviewed about the book before I read it. I heard a tentativeness and sadness in his voice that may not come across in the book, so I could have carried that presupposition into the reading. Regardless, I need to learn lessons from both of his contributions.
This book ought to be mandatory reading for all evangelical seminary students and pastors. It will not be, because too many seminary leaders are either in love with the aforementioned world-famous front-man, lead institutions with schools named after him, or are shackled by the fear of what their constituencies would say if they told the truth.
Sad.
But thank you, Dr. Murray, for your courage, your thoroughness, and your willingness to tell a story that needed to be told.
Friday, December 30, 2005
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
The Optimism of My Youth Is Dead and Gone
A long, long time ago I was wrestling with a desire to pursue vocational ministry, which had recently awakened in my heart. Not having much of any idea how to take those first steps or even how to make the decision, I went to a man who for a long time had been in vocational ministry and who had been a great help and encouragement to me. He gave me a gentle shove in the right direction, and he also said a few words that for some reason stuck like a treble hook in my mind. He said, “Ben, the politics you’ll see in ministry will break your heart.”
As I remember, he admonished me that my responsibility was simply to be faithful. Period. Back then I don’t think that I really knew what kind of politics he was talking about, but somehow I knew that he was right.
This was a great year. I will never forget 2005. I learned many lessons that I’ll never forget, just one of which is that my counselor’s advice was right—the politics in ministry really do break your heart. (If you think you know all that I have in mind, you’re wrong.)
The bottom line is that the optimism of my youth is now dead—but it needed to die. It was largely an optimism that was based on hope in flesh. Read any biography or history of an institution. It will either be a stark record of human failure, or it will fall short of objectivity and accuracy.
That’s the bad news. The good news is that my optimism is not dead and gone—just the optimism of my youth. The optimism that remains is a gift from God. It is a reinforced hope in His changelessness and His faithfulness to do as He has said. It is, by His grace, an optimism grounded in His eternal purposes, His sovereign plan, and His kind intention to bless His people. And somehow, he’s chosen me to share in those riches.
To be sure, there are questions and doubts in my mind. Will I be faithful? Will I persevere in my confidence in God? Will I set my ambition on becoming a political player? Time will tell. In the meantime, I’m glad for the lessons and the loss. I don’t think I'll be missing out on much at all.
As I remember, he admonished me that my responsibility was simply to be faithful. Period. Back then I don’t think that I really knew what kind of politics he was talking about, but somehow I knew that he was right.
This was a great year. I will never forget 2005. I learned many lessons that I’ll never forget, just one of which is that my counselor’s advice was right—the politics in ministry really do break your heart. (If you think you know all that I have in mind, you’re wrong.)
The bottom line is that the optimism of my youth is now dead—but it needed to die. It was largely an optimism that was based on hope in flesh. Read any biography or history of an institution. It will either be a stark record of human failure, or it will fall short of objectivity and accuracy.
That’s the bad news. The good news is that my optimism is not dead and gone—just the optimism of my youth. The optimism that remains is a gift from God. It is a reinforced hope in His changelessness and His faithfulness to do as He has said. It is, by His grace, an optimism grounded in His eternal purposes, His sovereign plan, and His kind intention to bless His people. And somehow, he’s chosen me to share in those riches.
To be sure, there are questions and doubts in my mind. Will I be faithful? Will I persevere in my confidence in God? Will I set my ambition on becoming a political player? Time will tell. In the meantime, I’m glad for the lessons and the loss. I don’t think I'll be missing out on much at all.
Monday, December 26, 2005
Fundamentalists and the Original New Evangelicals: Some Curious Commonalities
George Marsden analyzes the methods for divining God's will as they were practiced by both fundamentalists and the founders of Fuller Theological Seminary—the fathers of the New Evangelicalism:
For all major decisions, Fuller and the other founders of the seminary spent much time in prayer and took seriously certain signs as messages from God as to whether to proceed with a given course. The dominant form of the twentieth-century fundamentalist version of this common Christian practice was the nineteenth-century holiness tradition, which emphasized particularly a personal walk with God and the leading of the Lord. These emphases were widespread in American revivalist Protestantism and had been reinforced in fundamentalism especially through the influences of Keswick piety. Even the practical-minded Carl Henry later wrote that "any statement of evangelical experience that does not include the possibility both of communion with God and the communication of the particularized divine will seems to me artificially restrictive."
George Marsden, Reforming Fundamentalism: Fuller Seminary and the New Evangelicalism, pgs. 57–58. (Quote from Henry is from his autobiography, Confessions of a Theologian, pg. 53.)
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Inconsistent Secularists: An Unexpected Christmas Gift
The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the firmament sheweth his handiwork.
and the firmament sheweth his handiwork.
Those were not the words that I expected to be inscribed in stone above the entrance to the Moorhead Planetarium on the campus of the University of North Carolina. My Adult Bible Fellowship class (Sunday School for those of you who aren’t up on church growth lingo) went to the planetarium show on “The Star of Bethlehem” last weekend. Despite several positive recommendations from people who had seen the show in previous years, I expected a naturalistic presentation of non-supernatural explanations for the phenomenon with some religious window dressing.
What I saw instead was a careful look at some possible naturalistic explanations tempered with occasional referenced to the possibility of supernatural activity and tied together by the conclusion of Johannes Kepler, one of the first astronomers to investigate the origin of the star. The final word on the star in the planetarium show, spoken in a reverent tone, was that Kepler “believed it was a miracle.”
Even more remarkable was the attention the presentation devoted to the texts of Scripture that describe the phenomenon of the star. I’ve read evangelical commentators who go to far greater lengths to offer naturalistic interpretations of texts that are acceptable to the secularists. I’ve heard some sermons in my life that interacted far less with Scripture. I’ve even heard a whole pile of them that demonstrated far less interest in faithfulness to the authorial intent of the text.
So is the fact that a school in the North Carolina state university system would allow such faithfulness to the text of Scripture a miracle in itself? Could it at least be enough to make me question my cessationist leanings? Well, perhaps not, but it was an unexpected Christmas blessing, and I’m thankful for it.
If you're ever in the Chapel Hill area around Christmas, check it out. It runs through January 8th.
Go ‘Heels!
Nursing Home Staff
Today I went with my parents to visit one of their former neighbors who is in her 90's and has been in a nursing home for several years. Christmas Day in a nursing home isn't my idea of something I want in my future, but today it gave me a glimpse of God's common grace.
I expect nursing home staff to be pleasant, and despite working on Christmas, all but one that I saw seemed to be so today. The one who was not, was more than pleasant. She was bubbling. She was joy in a white uniform and a Santa hat. While we were sitting in the room with our friend, I heard her talking to a number of residents in their rooms or in the hallway. She sounded as though all the residents were her dear grandparents. I don't remember all that she said. I know there were lots of "Merry Christmases" and plenty of questions—not the "How are you today" stuff—conversational questions that demanded some time and thought on her part.
I don't know this woman. I didn't talk to her. I have no reason to think that she is a believer or that any of her conversations ever have anything to do with the gospel. I do suspect that some folks who had little or no contact today with family or friends outside the home were grateful to know that someone cared about them, and not just the kind of care that someone got paid to provide.
She made me think. Do I show people in my church, my neighborhood, and my workplace that I care—really care, not just "chatty conversation/how are you today?" care? Do I live the gospel in a way that gives anyone any reason to think that it really matters to me, or does playing church satisfy my soul?
I expect nursing home staff to be pleasant, and despite working on Christmas, all but one that I saw seemed to be so today. The one who was not, was more than pleasant. She was bubbling. She was joy in a white uniform and a Santa hat. While we were sitting in the room with our friend, I heard her talking to a number of residents in their rooms or in the hallway. She sounded as though all the residents were her dear grandparents. I don't remember all that she said. I know there were lots of "Merry Christmases" and plenty of questions—not the "How are you today" stuff—conversational questions that demanded some time and thought on her part.
I don't know this woman. I didn't talk to her. I have no reason to think that she is a believer or that any of her conversations ever have anything to do with the gospel. I do suspect that some folks who had little or no contact today with family or friends outside the home were grateful to know that someone cared about them, and not just the kind of care that someone got paid to provide.
She made me think. Do I show people in my church, my neighborhood, and my workplace that I care—really care, not just "chatty conversation/how are you today?" care? Do I live the gospel in a way that gives anyone any reason to think that it really matters to me, or does playing church satisfy my soul?
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Too Funny to Pass Up
I successfully avoided linking to the Emerging and Calvinism posts. This one on Dispensationalism was irresistible.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
"Can We Live Without God?": A Prime-Time Special Worth Watching?
I caught a brief promo this morning of a Fox News special that will air Christmas night at 9:00 ET. Titled, "Can We Live Without God," the special is hosted by morning news update anchor Lauren Green. The promo showed clips of Green interviewing an atheist and Ravi Zacharias. A year ago I would have been confident that Zacharias would be more loyal to his convictions than Ted Haggard. Anymore, I don't hold my breath.
What makes this worth watching to me, though, is not the guests, but the host. As Green chatted with the other morning hosts about the special, she commented that the conclusion is inescapable that both the theist and the atheist positions demand faith. I found that comment pleasantly surprising and insightful coming from a news anchor.
What makes this worth watching to me, though, is not the guests, but the host. As Green chatted with the other morning hosts about the special, she commented that the conclusion is inescapable that both the theist and the atheist positions demand faith. I found that comment pleasantly surprising and insightful coming from a news anchor.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Paleoevangelical of the Year Awards (2000–2004)
1974–1999 awards here. 2005 to follow.
2000: A.W. Tozer and John MacArthur
Tough one here, not because there aren't candidates, but because I can't remember what I read when. Nevertheless, I know that it was during this year that I read John MacArthur's Ashamed of the Gospel, which cultivated my distaste for both church growth evangelicalism and her less-hip cousin, revivalistic fundamentalism. I also know that I read A.W. Tozer's The Pursuit of God this year, but I forget whether it was for the first or second time. Regardless, Tozer lit a flame in my heart that has only gained intensity as time has passed and the flame has found more fuel.
2001: Kevin Bauder
In the spring of this year, a couple of my friends took "History of Fundamentalism" from Dr. Bauder at Central Seminary and were overwhelmed. Although I was still in Wisconsin, I felt as though I was taking the class second-hand through them. Dr. Bauder preached in chapel at Maranatha and spent a great deal of time with prospective seminary students sometime during the year, and I visited Central in the fall. Somehow, the entire experience cultivated my desire for further discipline and training in a rigorous academical and spiritual environment.
2002: Garry Friesen
Friesen's Decision Making and the Will of God transformed my thinking about how to make decisions that are not directly addressed by Scripture. A few years before I had listened numerous times to tapes of a series of messages on the subject taught at a college & career retreat by Dr. Greg Mazak of BJU, so the pump was already primed. Friesen's critique took me the next step by his thorough analysis of the traditional mystical view of God's will in light of biblical texts. His book also gave me the tools to apply biblical wisdom and prudence to non-moral decisions, which came in the nick of time for my seminary vs. ministry+seminary decision that summer.
2003: Frank Hamrick
This is an easy one. Dr. Hamrick began to tie together the questions in my mind that had begun to arise from reading Tozer and Piper. I had read bits and pieces of Piper over the years and had been profoundly affected. Tozer lit the flame, Piper fed it, and Hamrick helped me to use it. Seeing how Hamrick was attempting to apply God-centered teaching to the specific area of youth ministry was a priceless help towards cultivating a love for the gospel in my heart and life.
2004: Mark Dever
Ironically, everything that I've read by Dever, I read in either 2003 or 2005. What happened in 2004 is that I began listening to his 9Marks interviews. The interviews were a conduit for me to hear a variety of men (Piper, MacArthur, Duncan, Murray, Wells, Sproul, and others), most of them pastors, explain their passion and concern for the health of churches, the primacy of biblical worship, the centrality of expositional preaching, and the necessity to defend the purity of the gospel further reinforced my commitment to those values. I particularly appreciated their willingness to critique the faults in their own circles and to be honest about the destructive influences of evangelical heroes.
Note: Piper keeps coming up, but I can't peg him to a particular year. Perhaps when I'm old I'll start giving out lifetime achievement awards.
P.S. Anybody want to take a stab at 2005?
2000: A.W. Tozer and John MacArthur
Tough one here, not because there aren't candidates, but because I can't remember what I read when. Nevertheless, I know that it was during this year that I read John MacArthur's Ashamed of the Gospel, which cultivated my distaste for both church growth evangelicalism and her less-hip cousin, revivalistic fundamentalism. I also know that I read A.W. Tozer's The Pursuit of God this year, but I forget whether it was for the first or second time. Regardless, Tozer lit a flame in my heart that has only gained intensity as time has passed and the flame has found more fuel.
2001: Kevin Bauder
In the spring of this year, a couple of my friends took "History of Fundamentalism" from Dr. Bauder at Central Seminary and were overwhelmed. Although I was still in Wisconsin, I felt as though I was taking the class second-hand through them. Dr. Bauder preached in chapel at Maranatha and spent a great deal of time with prospective seminary students sometime during the year, and I visited Central in the fall. Somehow, the entire experience cultivated my desire for further discipline and training in a rigorous academical and spiritual environment.
2002: Garry Friesen
Friesen's Decision Making and the Will of God transformed my thinking about how to make decisions that are not directly addressed by Scripture. A few years before I had listened numerous times to tapes of a series of messages on the subject taught at a college & career retreat by Dr. Greg Mazak of BJU, so the pump was already primed. Friesen's critique took me the next step by his thorough analysis of the traditional mystical view of God's will in light of biblical texts. His book also gave me the tools to apply biblical wisdom and prudence to non-moral decisions, which came in the nick of time for my seminary vs. ministry+seminary decision that summer.
2003: Frank Hamrick
This is an easy one. Dr. Hamrick began to tie together the questions in my mind that had begun to arise from reading Tozer and Piper. I had read bits and pieces of Piper over the years and had been profoundly affected. Tozer lit the flame, Piper fed it, and Hamrick helped me to use it. Seeing how Hamrick was attempting to apply God-centered teaching to the specific area of youth ministry was a priceless help towards cultivating a love for the gospel in my heart and life.
2004: Mark Dever
Ironically, everything that I've read by Dever, I read in either 2003 or 2005. What happened in 2004 is that I began listening to his 9Marks interviews. The interviews were a conduit for me to hear a variety of men (Piper, MacArthur, Duncan, Murray, Wells, Sproul, and others), most of them pastors, explain their passion and concern for the health of churches, the primacy of biblical worship, the centrality of expositional preaching, and the necessity to defend the purity of the gospel further reinforced my commitment to those values. I particularly appreciated their willingness to critique the faults in their own circles and to be honest about the destructive influences of evangelical heroes.
Note: Piper keeps coming up, but I can't peg him to a particular year. Perhaps when I'm old I'll start giving out lifetime achievement awards.
P.S. Anybody want to take a stab at 2005?
"Heaven is a place where you can eat what you want and never get heavy."
Thank you, Ted Haggard, for that nugget of wisdom, as well as for the insight that heaven is full of all kinds of pastries.
Haggard is the president of the National Association of Evangelicals. He appeard last night on Barbara Walters' special, "Heaven: Where is it? How Do You Get There?" I didn't watch the whole thing, but I did tune in for the portion when the obligatory evangelical leader shares his obligatory nuanced/know-nothing thoughts on heaven and who goes there. I didn't tape it. I'm not wasting time searching for a transcript. I tried to type a couple choice quotes as I listened to Haggard, so I'll be paraphrasing Walters and getting as close as I can to Haggard's quotes. I'm not using quotation marks because I don't want to imply that I got every quote exactly right.
TH: There is only one guaranteed way to go to heaven according to Scripture—Jesus Christ. If you don’t know Jesus you have no assurance [emphasis mine] of going to heaven.
TH: If you believe in another god or no god at all, there is no guarantee. Jews, Muslims, and people of other faiths have to work out their own way to heaven.
BW: Do people who do not believe in Jesus Christ go to hell?
TH: I think so, unfortunately.
(To be fair, Haggard later said concerning the necessity of faith in Christ, "There’s no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.")
Paleo: Thanks, Ted, for being so dogmatic on the fabricated promise of a glutton-friendly heavenly buffet, but refusing to affirm with equal certitude the biblical teaching that those who do not believe are condemned. How very helpful to the advance of the gospel you were.
Can we really call the 30 million people and the 52 denominations he represents, "evangelicals"? Doesn't "evangelical" imply a belief that what the Bible teaches is true—even the parts our culture or even we ourselves don't like?
Haggard is the president of the National Association of Evangelicals. He appeard last night on Barbara Walters' special, "Heaven: Where is it? How Do You Get There?" I didn't watch the whole thing, but I did tune in for the portion when the obligatory evangelical leader shares his obligatory nuanced/know-nothing thoughts on heaven and who goes there. I didn't tape it. I'm not wasting time searching for a transcript. I tried to type a couple choice quotes as I listened to Haggard, so I'll be paraphrasing Walters and getting as close as I can to Haggard's quotes. I'm not using quotation marks because I don't want to imply that I got every quote exactly right.
TH: There is only one guaranteed way to go to heaven according to Scripture—Jesus Christ. If you don’t know Jesus you have no assurance [emphasis mine] of going to heaven.
TH: If you believe in another god or no god at all, there is no guarantee. Jews, Muslims, and people of other faiths have to work out their own way to heaven.
BW: Do people who do not believe in Jesus Christ go to hell?
TH: I think so, unfortunately.
(To be fair, Haggard later said concerning the necessity of faith in Christ, "There’s no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.")
Paleo: Thanks, Ted, for being so dogmatic on the fabricated promise of a glutton-friendly heavenly buffet, but refusing to affirm with equal certitude the biblical teaching that those who do not believe are condemned. How very helpful to the advance of the gospel you were.
Can we really call the 30 million people and the 52 denominations he represents, "evangelicals"? Doesn't "evangelical" imply a belief that what the Bible teaches is true—even the parts our culture or even we ourselves don't like?
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