Process, results, and Mark Driscoll

In my last sermon, I opened with a bit about "destination people" versus "journey people." It wasn't meant to be serious, or to provoke much serious thought. It was mostly to help people to relax and engage with the text of Exodus, which is a book about Israel's spiritual journey out of slavery and toward their destination of the Promised Land. So it was fascinating to me that after the service, as people were making their way out and greeting me (as is still tradition in our church), that a friend stopped me with a serious comment about this illustration.

He told me that journey vs. destination is another way of talking about "process orientation" vs "results orientation." Which is true. Some people don't care about how something is done, only that it is done. For others, how you get there is at least equal in importance as that you arrive. This led to a further discussion about politics and also about church ministry. My friend told me that he is usually more process than results oriented. I lean the other way.

The conversation was sharpening for me in light of recent events involving Pastor Mark Driscoll. I have read much of what Mark has written and found much of it beneficial and helpful (esp. Doctrine) and enjoyed a few of his sermons. Moreover, I respect the fact that his church, Mars Hill, has been able to effectively share the Gospel with so many people (esp. young men) in a city as aggressively secular as Seattle. I did have questions, as many did, about various comments he made or actions he took, but somehow, through a combination of my own spiritual immaturity and results orientation, I largely ignored the warning lights.

Now the warning lights have given way to smoke pouring out of the engine. I have no desire to join in what has become a generalized internet pile-on. Yet, I do think that pastors (like me!), who tend toward seeking results above all do well to pay attention to what has occurred. Too many of us were willing to ignore evidence of immature and ungodly behavior in Mark because his ministry was going so well. There really were lots of people coming to faith in Jesus. There were churches being planted. And that's what many of us pastors (again, including me!) hope will one day happen in our churches too. At our best, we want to see those things happen not out of some megalomaniac desire to build a monument to ourselves, but because we really do believe that faith in Jesus Christ is the dividing line between heaven and hell and that life is only found knowing Him. So out of love for others, we greatly desire to see as many as possible know and love and follow Jesus.

Yet it is apparently easy for that good desire to transmogrify into ugly self-exaltation. May I and my fellow pastors never be granted influence that outruns our character, nor allow ministerial results to so overrule the process of obtaining them that we discredit the Gospel message we so earnestly desire to spread.

Holding the line

It seems to me that the hardest thing in the world is to preach and believe the Bible as it lies on the page. It is quite easy, by contrast, to depart either to the right or to the left. If we depart to the right, we become one or another variety of fundamentalist, who seek to make the Bible say more than it in fact does, or make it speak clearly about issues on which it either has little to say or leaves freedom for the individual believer's conscience. Thus, fundamentalists warned us against the evils of coffee, games played with cards (even if there was no money involved), Bible translations other than the KJV, songs other than the ones in their hymn book, even non-intoxicating levels of drinking, playing games on Sundays, interpretations of eschatology other than pre-trib/pre-mil, and so on. These warnings elevated matters of either personal choice or conviction to matters of "biblical" obedience, often out of good motives, but nevertheless restricted people's freedom to follow Jesus as He might lead.

We are not, thankfully, in much danger of the evangelical church re-embracing the excesses of fundamenatlism. To do so would be a serious departure from Gospel and one from which I am glad that evangelicalism has largely escaped. But we are, I think, in danger of an equally serious one: departing from the Gospel to the left. By that, I mean all the variety of the ways that we remove from our beliefs that which we no longer wish to discuss or affirm. In some churches, this means not preaching through books of the Bible, and particularly the Old Testament, because that might bring up things we'd rather not discuss. This has led, unsurprisingly, to staggering levels of biblical ignorance as people with no sense of the broad sweep of the Bible don't know how it fits together or why the Old Testament is even there. It can also mean ignoring or minimizing passages that teach contrary to what we want to do. One particular favorite in this regard is 1 Timothy 2:12, which seems to offer a pretty much unconditional prohibition on women having teaching authority over men. Worst of all is the tendency to reduce the Gospel by making it more about serving people and doing nice things than warning them to flee the just wrath of God and embrace salvation and new life by grace through faith in Christ.

Thus the challenge is to hold to the line, proclaiming all that God says with fidelity. It means preaching and obeying the whole of Scripture, not just the parts we find most congenial. It means helping people understand how Jesus fulfills the Old Testament and why that matters. It means neither adding to, nor taking away, by either deliberate oversight or ignorance, what the Scripture has to say. It means especially that we keep the Gospel which saves people from death the center of all things and that we show how living in obedience is connected to that message no matter where we are in Scripture.

Apostasy and Apologetics

Apologetics begins out of a genuine heart for lost people and a deep desire to see them embrace the faith in Jesus Christ which will give them new life in both the present and eternity. And it also begins with the recognition that a great many things Christians believe are confusing, hard to swallow, or otherwise totally alien to average unbeliever in general and to the apologist's non-Christian friends in particular. And underlying all apologetic efforts is a passionate conviction, even if left unarticulated, that if the faith can be sufficiently clarified, explained and rightly presented, then the non-Christian(s) that the apologist loves will intend place his/her/their trust in Christ and be saved from sin, death, and hell. In other words, apologetics begins with noble motives of love for the non-Christian.

However, it can and often does turn quickly toward apostasy. It frequently proves a short jump from "clarifying and explaining the faith correctly" to softening it down to a level felt to be more palatable, removing hard teachings, sharp corners, and rough edges. The apologist's motivation often leads to simply eliminating or explaining away scriptural statements that, on their face, are pretty clear and don't require much explanation. For example, no one reading the New Testament, and in particular Jesus' teaching on the subject, can come away from that concluding that Hell is something other than a place of eternal conscious torment away from God's presence or that consignment to that place is anything less than permanent. Likewise, there is no biblical evidence supporting women as elders/pastors or having teaching authority over men, the holiness of homosexual relationships of whatever label or type, or a view of Scripture as less than the authoritative, divinely inspired, inerrant Word of God.

Yet today, we find evangelical pastors and leaders espousing all of these views. Why? I think in most cases, it is because they find the actual teaching of Scripture in these areas too hard, presenting too high an obstacle for the unbeliever to clear to come into the Kingdom of God. To put it as charitably as possible, their apologetic desire for people to come to Christ stands in the way of faithfully preaching the Word of Christ. And though their love for people and desire for them to enter God's Kingdom is commendable in itself, it is loaded with serious problems.

Number one, it rests on the assumption that God didn't really mean it, or that the Bible isn't "fully" (i.e., in every place) inspired, or that there is some "trajectory" or arc from Scripture to the current day from which we can infer a different teaching about hard passages than the Bible itself presents. That is problematic in itself, since the Scripture's unreliability about "hard" teaching doesn't exactly fill a person with confindence about "easy" teachings like Jesus' death and resurrection as the hope of forgiveness and eternal life. But the bigger problem is that it sets up the apologist himself or herself as the final arbiter of truth, determining what is truly biblical and what isn't. And as a basis for building a new life, that's a pretty shaky foundation.

Number two, it assumes the apologist is "more gracious" or "more loving" than God. If it is true that the Bible is indeed God's Word (and if it isn't, then the whole debate is absurd!), then the apologist's feeling that softening hard truths is better than leaving them hardened presumes that God is less interested in seeing people converted than the apologist. Yet the idea that humans love their fellow humans more than the God who sent His Son for the rebellious is not just wrong, it's blasphemous. Moreover, if God is really loving, then we must conclude that He gets to define what love is, and apparently, it includes telling people the real truth, hard edges and all. After all, which is better, telling a man with stage 4 cancer that he needs aggressive chemo, radiation, etc. or that he should go home and eat a fudgsicle and he will be fine? One is "harder" for sure, but that road is also the one that leads to life and freedom, while the other feels better but leads to death.

Number three, it does not produce what it promises. The dirty little secret of almost every effort to round off the corners of the Christian faith is that they do not produce converts. The people who bought Rob Bell's books, and Brian McLaren's, and countless others, from Schleiermacher's on back through time, were largely the disgruntled children of the orthodox and evangelical. They aren't reaching new people so much as helping people who find their parents' faith distasteful to still call themselves Christians. But such efforts lead not to a revitalization of the church, but to its decline. The last 20 years, which have witnessed the rise of both the megachurch and the "emerging church" as major influences in evangelicalism, and which have both sought, in divergent ways, to make Christianity "easier" have also witnessed a declining percentage of actual Christians.

Finally, it assumes that becoming a Christian is actually easier than it is. It is true that our message is so simple that even a child can understand it and believe it. But there is simply no easy way to tell someone that he or she is a sinner deserving of God's wrath, and that Jesus' death and resurrection is the only hope of eternal life. Nevertheless, those who try to cushion the blow for the non-Christian act as if the only thing separating  him/her from fully embracing the Gospel and the new life that flows from it is a good presentation of the right information and a decision to embrace it. But that's not actually true, at least not fully. What actually separates the person from God is the very sin we proclaim as part of our message. And that sin makes the transformation of a non-Christian into a Christian the most miraculous thing that can occur. Indeed, it is an impossible thing, apart from God's own power. We must therefore not forget our role: we are to proclaim the Gospel, hard edges and all, and God who is rich in mercy and love, will save those whom He has called.

A Warning for my Reformed Brethren

I'm a reformed pastor. I use the small "r" because I do not find myself fitting comfortably in the capital "R" reformed tradition, since I believe in believer's baptism, pre-tribulational, pre-millennial eschatology, and a future for ethnic Israel as the restored "natural branches" who will return to God after the times of the Gentiles are completed (Rom. 11).

That said, I find a lot to enjoy among my "big R" brethren. I find their commitments to the inerrant Scriptures, the doctrines of grace, and the revelation of Christ in all the Scriptures refreshing in our mushy evangelical world. I love their appreciation for church history and the consequent realization that the Christian life did not begin and will not end with them. I love the emphasis on expository preaching as the way which brings the Scripture to life such that God is allowed to speak old words to new days. I have attended and deeply benefited from their conferences (Together for the Gospel and the Gospel Coalition) and look forward to going again the future for soul refreshment and the encouragement that only comes from the Word of God faithfully preached and the fellowship of the saints.

That said, I am deeply concerned about some of the things I see in the broader Cool Calvinists movement:

1. The inability to disagree in an irenic way. I see this in everything from John MacArthur's well-publicized theological shiv for those who disagree with him on alcohol use to the commenters on the average theology blog, most of which comments I can no longer read for this very reason. There simply has to be some setting between "not a big deal" and "bury the needle." The sky is not falling nor is someone a hypocrite, a false teacher, or a heretic simply because he or she disagrees with you. This is closely related to #2, which is...
2. Pride. We who hold to the doctrines of grace are right about many important things, but it is simply arrogance to assume we are personally correct about them all. We do well to remember that we are not the definition of theologically orthodoxy, nor does disagreement with me (whoever "me" is) equal departure from "the faith once for all delivered to all the saints."
3. Exclusion. I never cease to find it odd that while Reformed Charismatics like C.J. Mahaney and Mark Driscoll are welcomed, Reformed Dispensationalists are the treated like the proverbial red-headed stepchild. Chuck Swindoll, Chip Ingram, Tommy Nelson, and others of like mind do not appear anywhere, but James McDonald was a headliner prior to that unfortunate Elephant Room business. Which is weird, to say the least. We shun those who could be reliable friends when we need them and we are limiting the potential unifying effect of what could be a much broader and deeper movement to renew evangelicalism.

These are worrisome not just because they involve sinful attitudes and behaviors, but because, if they are not corrected, I fear that the broader movement will fall apart just as it begins to have real influence and is most needed. Indeed, I fear it is already happening.

Slow martyrs

When I sat in the crowd at the latest Together for the Gospel (T4G) conference in Louisville a few weeks ago, my heart was filled with conviction and joy listening to David Platt talk about God's sovereignty and death-defying missions. He made the thoroughly biblical point that, if we really believe in God's sovereignty, then we ought to have more courage as we confront difficult and even dangerous situations. We ought to willingly face down the prospect of martyrdom with both confidence and joy no matter the outcome. And I couldn't agree more. In fact, as I sat in that stadium, I was ready, not simply on an emotional high, but actually ready, I think, to lay my life down for the cause of Christ and the spread of the Gospel.

Not gonna happen.

Oh, it's not that I know the future. I am neither a prophet nor a prophet's son. But living as I do in the United States, and being called to pastoral ministry here, I think the odds are not in my favor. I won't, in all probability, have one of those great do-or-die, renounce-Jesus-and-go-free-or-stay-faithful-and-lose-your-head moments that make for such inspiring reading later and which serve as pungent testimony to the reality of one's faith. I probably won't have the words of my sermons sealed in blood to be read and heard by future generations of the faithful.

You probably won't either.

Instead, what will most likely happen to me is that I will face, like most of you, a different set of challenges in being faithful. It won't be renounce Jesus or die, it will be the smaller, daily challenge of being faithful to Jesus in renouncing sin and pursuing Him. Of trusting Jesus not to stand with me as the fire is kindled, but to stand with me as I go through chronic disease, disappointing and painful relationship conflicts, raise my children to (hopefully!) fear God and love Him with all their hearts, keep preaching though I wonder on many Mondays whether it works, keep loving dear Karen sacrificially even when we are in conflict, and so on until death or Jesus comes. It's not fast martyrdom, in other words, but slow martyrdom, learning to daily put to death the deeds of darkness and my old man, put on the new self created to be like Christ, and trust Jesus to work in and through me to make me wholly his. This too, is a sacrifice, this too, a form of dying for Jesus, albeit a more normal, less spectacular one. But still, it is a sacrifice, and one I pray that God finds acceptable in His sight and glorifying to Him.

On politics and religion

Jonah Goldberg is not a Christian. I don't know what his faith commitments are, though my guess would be some variety of Conservative (as opposed to Orthodox or Reform) Jewish. Regardless, his comments from today's G-File are among the best and most reflective that I've read anywhere about the role politics currently plays in modern American life. Here's the meatiest part:

 If you clear the public square of what we traditionally call religion -- Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Mormonism, Buddhism etc. -- we will not have a public square free of religion. We have a public square full of religion fighting under the false flag of "secular values" -- with no opposing sources of moral authority to resist it.

The utopianism, millenarianism and radical egalitarianism at the emotional core of liberalism are fundamentally religious in nature. That doesn't mean liberalism is evil or totalitarian. But it is less than totally self-aware. The nice thing about traditional religion is you know where it comes from. The unwritten faith of liberalism masquerades in the costumes of modernity, progress, social justice and the like without recognizing that liberalism requires leaps of faith, too.

Liberalism's lack of self-knowledge about its nature makes it very powerful and very dangerous. Liberals can simply claim -- without seeming like they're lying, because they actually believe it -- that they are cold, rational presenters of fact and decency. Comte's "religion of humanity" has forgotten that it is a religion at all. But forgetting something doesn't make it any less real. Wile E. Coyote forgets there's no land underneath him. His ignorance doesn't keep him aloft.

This is how the New Class of experts and helping professions become secular priests of a wholly political religion. We confuse credentials for ordinations, regression analyses for consecrations. And without a conception of a higher authority, without a more enduring and transcendent dogma to inform our consciences, we are left following the captains of rudderless ships leading us to ruin.