In which our regular writers toss around
subjects a little more volatile than usual.
Christianity Today reports that about 1 in 6 Christians now refer to themselves as
“non-denominational”, which is about double the number who did so as recently
as the turn of the century.
Tom: Gallup says:
“Increasingly, Christian Americans …
prefer to either identify themselves simply as Christians or attend the
increasing number of nondenominational churches that have no formal allegiance
to a broader religious structure.”
What do
you think about that, IC? It’s not all good news, is it?
Immanuel Can: No, probably not. Some of it is.
No Dawning Realization
Tom: I take it you don’t think it’s primarily a product of a dawning
realization among Protestants that sectarianism is carnal and violates the spirit of New Testament Christian faith?
IC: I wish it were
all born simply of a conviction of the unity of the Body of Christ. But I think
it’s also possibly reflective of our social ethos of knee-jerk individualism;
or alternately, that it’s expressive of a general (and justified)
disenchantment with where traditional churches have tended to be going.
Tom: Roger Olson, who
is a professor of theology at Baylor, agrees with you that the change is not an
unmitigated positive. He says:
“There is a trend toward what I call ‘generic Christianity’ that is very feeling-centered and pragmatic and somewhat anti-intellectual. As denominational particularities are ignored or hidden, what’s often left is a ‘lowest common denominator’ spirituality that is often little more than ‘worship’ and ‘discipleship’ devoid of cognitive content. The result is often folk religion rather than historic, classic, biblical Christianity.”
If Olson’s right, then put bluntly, most of these new “non-denominational”
Christians know so little about the Bible that they couldn’t coherently
articulate a disagreement about doctrine even if they had one, or else they
just plain don’t care.
A Deplorable Decline
IC: Well, I have to
admit that locally I’ve seen a deplorable decline in Christian knowledge,
coupled with the rise of a very bland, uncritical and theologically-vague kind
of belief. But I didn’t really know how general my observation was. What’s your
impression of Olson’s claim, Tom?
Tom: As you know, I
grew up circulating among non-denominational churches. When I was in my teens,
it was a very big point in those circles not to use a divisive, sectarian name,
and those who did so were quickly called out for it. Today, what used to be a
generic identifier of convenience is capitalized more often than not, most
people view those churches as just another denomination, and many in their
younger generation take for granted that this is perfectly acceptable. So
they’re kind of bucking the trend Gallup is observing.
Now,
within those churches, there are some young believers who are still very well
taught indeed, and you can have a deep discussion with them on many different
aspects of scripture. There are others, I fear, where Olson’s “lowest common
denominator spirituality” would be a pretty accurate description. But I think
the general trajectory is not encouraging.
Testing, Testing
IC: I once had the
idea of testing this. I thought it would be illuminating to design a quiz to
see whether Christians knew more about their Bibles or other stuff. In each
question, you could choose to answer either a question from the Bible or from
something else. So one question read something like, “Name either: a) five
disciples, or b) five members of the Simpson family.”
Tom: Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa, Maggie … and I’ve never watched a
single Simpsons episode. Way too easy. Disciples? Peter, James, John, Judas,
Nathanael, Simon the Zealot … okay, okay, I should be able to get more of
these in a few seconds without going to the Gospels.
IC: You
win. I guess I was wrong.
Tom: No, I see your point, but do trivia quizzes really give us any kind of
idea of how much we know about the word of God? Is it THAT kind of knowledge we
need to be testing? Might it not be more useful to ask “What is 1 Thessalonians
about?” or “What is the great theme of Galatians?” or “Where would I go to find
teaching about how to conduct meetings of the church?” or “Name five ways
John’s gospel differs from Matthew’s”?
IC: Well, it’s true
that trivia is … well, trivial. But isn’t it interesting that we don’t
even know the very simple things? I wouldn’t be surprised to find that a
Christian had no explanation of the numerology of the Torah; but maybe we
should be worried if the very simple and easy things in the New Testament are
stumpers, and the minutiae of pop culture are readily at hand.
A Case of Relative Exposure
Tom: It
certainly tells us something about our relative exposure to each, doesn’t it? I
readily admit I seem to have inadvertently memorized more Elvis Costello lyrics
than comparable-length passages of scripture, and that probably doesn’t speak
well of me. Then again, I also don’t read Elvis in five different translations,
and I don’t memorize scripture set to catchy pop tunes. Maybe I should.
Perhaps what we’re saying here, then, is that most of us who grew up in Christian homes
are not our father’s sons to the extent we should be, and that those of us in
our generation who have failed to live up to the level of teaching we received
have also failed to pass on that teaching to our children and to those who have
been saved and come into our churches in the interval. As a result, while today
we are more likely to identify as generic ‘Christians’ rather than Christians
of a specific theological stripe, this not because we are more agreeable and
unified than our grandparents, or because we have solved outstanding problems
of theology, but rather it is because we don’t know or care enough about the
things of God to fight over them.
Would
that be fair?
IC: I wish it weren’t — but yes, it is.
Welcome to Laodicea, Have a Seat Right In the Back There
Tom: Well, then, in
addition to this sort of individually shabby behavior and decrepit corporate
condition having tons of precedent in the Old Testament, I suppose there is
also a prescription somewhere in scripture for precisely our sort of malaise,
isn’t there? I’m thinking of what the Head of the Church had to say to a sad little group of Laodiceans:
“I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.”
If, doctrinally, we are “wretched, poor,
pitiable, blind and naked”, there is an answer out there to be had.
IC: Indeed. The
remedy exists. But who will realize it? After all, the Laodiceans saw
themselves as rich and in need of nothing. They would have been very surprised
to be told they were poor and naked and blind … I’m sure they believed
quite the opposite.
Opening the Door
Tom: You’re quite
right, but that’s why I included the “If anyone hears
my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and
he with me” part. There seems to be in that final word to the churches the
expectation that some will not be zealous and repent — perhaps a very
large number will not, such that Christ himself is depicted outside Christendom.
So maybe denominations and large churches cannot be reformed in our day; I
can’t speak to that. But the offer of individual fellowship remains open, and I
think the Lord is expecting more than a few of us to open the door.
IC: Okay, let’s be practical: how do we “open the door”?
Tom: Well, a knock requires a response, which involves obedience. You
can always ignore the knock if you are determined to. But if we want to be in
fellowship with the Head of the Church, we need to start with the same view of
ourselves that he has. If he says “poor, naked and blind”, that’s what we are.
Then he says three things, the first of which is “buy from me gold refined by
fire.” Sounds to me like it has something to do with reorienting our spiritual
priorities toward the things which are of a high value in God’s economy, not
the world’s.
Do you want to try to unpack that metaphor
a bit?
The Cost of Truth
IC: Well, the source
of the gold is “from me”, so it’s something we get from the Lord himself. It
has to be “bought”, which means there’s a price attached. And the gold is
something that has been “refined by fire”, which means purified by a process of
heating and testing. And maybe that’s a key point: the Laodiceans had it easy.
They’d paid no price, and had something that convinced them they were “rich”.
But whatever they had, it was not the real deal, obviously; because it had left
them spiritually poor, naked and blind.
Actually,
they needed three things: true “gold”, “white clothes” that would actually
cover them, and “salve” that would restore their sight … and all
from God.
Tom: I think this is probably more applicable to the current evangelical
environment than we’d like to admit.
IC: I’d put this
together this way: the truth is going to be costly. And only that which has
been obtained and endured by sacrifice, testing and proving is going to make us
truly “rich” Christians. The more worldly you are, the more “naked” your shame
is when seen through spiritual eyes. But you don’t see that if you don’t have
God’s perspective. The Laodiceans had ceased to see this truth because they had
become self-satisfied. They believed they were affluent (blessed by God),
dignified (they had covered everything) and clear-eyed (seeing things as they
really are). And there was reason for their confidence, because from the
earthly perspective, they were doing exceedingly well.
Ironically,
from God’s perspective they were a total mess. Note that the metaphor here is
that of a high-ranking nobleman contrasted with the picture of a blind
street beggar.
Tom:
With no clothes to boot.
The Cost of Fellowship with Christ
IC: In short, we have
to judge ourselves — our wealth, our achievements and our status as a
church — with spiritual sight. And doing that is going to cost us. But the
price of not doing it is going to leave us ashamed and empty-handed before God.
So we’ve got to “man up” and judge ourselves rightly, by the standards of the
Lord, and see whether or not we’ve got anything worth having.
Tom:
Amen.
IC: Notice that the
Lord only “advises” here. He does not say, “I will give you this, or force it
upon you, even if you don’t care or if you choose not to have it.” You have to
want it, seek it and choose it, or else you just don’t get it.
Tom: Yes, because he’s
looking for fellowship: “I will come
in to him and eat with him”. You can’t coerce fellowship. Fellowship presumes a
common goal and shared experience in pursuing it. There’s a mutuality required.
So when he talks about the kingdom, our heart’s instinctive response must be
“Your kingdom come, your will be done”. That’s the only way it works, because you
can’t have a warm, collegial discussion about your common objectives with
someone who is too immature to know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Nor
can you have one with someone who is entirely focused on themselves. And it’s
even less likely you can have one with somebody who doesn’t know you well
enough or trust you enough to let you in the door when you knock.
Riding the Average
IC: Here’s the point:
those of us who want genuine fellowship with God cannot attain it by riding the
average. We can’t look around at other Christians and say, “Well, so long as I
keep to the centre of the pack, I’ll be okay.” That’s tempting, because it
requires nothing of us, and reassures us that we can continue our present
lives. But what we really need is a radical departure — not just from the
world, but from “Christendom”, if I can use that word. We need to see the
difference between how God sees our state and how others do; and we need to
choose to believe that God is right, and men — even “Christian” men, have
gone savagely wrong. They’ve succeeded in this world, but lost for the next.
So
it’s up to us, now, as individuals. As Revelation says, “if anyone” hears that
call, it’s time to “open the door”. And I think that means to provide
himself or herself as the conduit of Christ back into the local church. Because right now,
whether we want to know it or not, he’s probably outside.
Thank you. Your post is something I read everyday, early. Today was an exception because I was scheduled for a colonoscopy at 8:30. However, it is particularly appropriate. I pray for you "boys" every day.
ReplyDeleteThat's the sort of appointment with which I'm all too familiar. Trust the investigation was uneventful! The prayers are greatly appreciated.
DeleteEverything was good; according to the doctor.
Delete