Tag: Church

Church and State no. 3: God’s kingdom isn’t America

Church and State no. 3: God’s kingdom isn’t America

In the last article in this series, we discussed the most basic principle to rightly understand the “church v. state” conundrum. That principle was this—there are two kingdoms, Babylon and Jerusalem. Babylon will lose. Now we’ll build on this foundation and introduce the next building block:

  • Principle 2: God’s kingdom is not America or any other country

What hath the “Jerusalem that is above” to do with Washington D.C., London, Moscow, Beijing, Mexico City, and Buenos Aries? Nothing. That is, not directly. God’s kingdom is not the USA, Great Britain, or Russia … not even Barbados. American Christians may nod their heads at this point.

I’d like to ask you to stop. Think for a moment. Then realize that I really mean that. America has nothing to do with God’s kingdom. That means something important for the church v. state issue—but more on that later.

The “Babylon” which the Apostle John describes in Revelation 17-18 represents Satan’s kingdom in all its flavors. Some interpreters see Babylon only as a geo-political foe which will rise in the last days—it only has relevance for the tribulation. I think it’s more than that.

As I said earlier, Babylon is all the societies, cultures, values, and systems that oppose God throughout history. No matter their outward form, they have the same origin—Satan. This evil empire’s aim is to be a stealthy narcotic, dulling our senses, distracting us from the Gospel light with … whatever, all while disguising its presence. This is why the image of the high-class prostitute is so apt—Babylon is seduction to idolatry,[1] in any form. It entices us to give ourselves to something other than God.

Of course, this “dominion of darkness” (Col 1:13) will take final form as a nation state in the last days, but it still exists here and now as a nefarious shadow behind the curtain. Before it assumes legal and political shape later, it exists now as influence, as values, as worldviews, as wicked ethics, as degenerate cultures in various local contexts. Think of it as a sinister “e pluribus unum,” in that “out of many” there is really “one” malevolent force—Satan.

Jesus’ kingdom is also in an “already/not yet” state, and it will also take legal and political shape once He returns and topples Babylon (Rev 19). It, too, exists for the moment as subversive and countercultural influence, values, worldviews, and cultures. Ideally, these “cultures” are not those of nation states, but the particular, authentic expressions of the true Jesus communities within those countries. “Out of the many” that is the global church there is “one” prime mover—the Lord Jesus Christ.

Both kingdoms are “already, but not yet” in this “field” that is the world, which means the countries where we live are simply the individual battlespaces of a global conflict. Cultures, values, worldviews, and influence ebbs and flows from one side to the other as local and regional actions in a much larger war.

This means “Babylon” is the USA. It’s China. It’s Ukraine. It’s Russia. It’s every part of this world, which the Apostle Paul says is under the sway of “the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient,” (Eph 2:2). But these same places are also “the kingdom of God” in the form of individual Jesus communities—the “wheat” and the “weeds” inhabit the same battlespace at the same time. To borrow a cliché from Vietnam, it’s “hearts and minds” that each kingdom is after, because that’s what drives our actions (cp. Prov 4:23; Lk 6:45).

So, I say again—God’s kingdom is completely distinct from any country on this earth. This is what Jesus meant when He said this to Pilate:

My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.

John 18:36

He didn’t simply mean “I ain’t from here!” or “my kingdom is located in heaven, not on earth.” The kingdom will be here (Rev 21-22)—Belinda Carlisle was right about heaven being a place on earth. What Jesus meant is something like “my kingdom is totally different than anything here.” It’s from another sphere, another realm, “from another place.” It’s a different thing (cp. Jn 8:23).[2] It’s a kingdom predicated on His loving sacrifice which prompts our loving allegiance and obedience (Deut 6:5; Mk 12:28-32). If Jesus’ kingdom had merely been from this sphere, concerned with borders, power, and politics, His disciples would have fought to prevent His capture.

But it isn’t, so they didn’t.

This means whenever Christians conflate kingdom values with nationalist interests[3] as if they were the same thing, they’re making a terrible mistake. They are not the same thing—not even close. God’s kingdom is distinct from every nation state.

We’ll explore what that means in the next article.

[1] “… any form of worship or religious practice presented or interpreted by the writer or speaker as equivalent to this; the worship of a false god,” (“idolatry,” noun, no. 1a, OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/91099?redirectedFrom=idolatry  (accessed April 29, 2023)).

[2] The preposition in ἡ βασιλεία ἡ ἐμὴ οὐκ ἔστιν ἐκ τοῦ κόσμου τούτου seems to express derivation. For commentary, see (1) Leon Morris, The Gospel According to John, in NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971), pp. 769-770; (2) C.K. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John (London: SPCK, 1960), p. 447; (3) Alvah Hovey, Commentary on the Gospel of John, in American Commentary (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1885), p. 366.

[3] “Advocacy of or support for the interests of one’s own nation, esp. to the exclusion or detriment of the interests of other nations,” (s.v. “nationalism,” noun, no. 1a, OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/125289?redirectedFrom=nationalism (accessed April 29, 2023)).

What is Providence?

What is Providence?

Providence is what Christians call “God governing things to turn out like He decided.” Either God is trying really hard to make something work, or He directs and controls reality. The scriptures tell us the second option is the right one. But, how does this work? This bible study considers what the scriptures have to say about this issue, and why it matters for your life.

Here are three resources that you might find helpful when considering this topic:

  1. Thomas Watson, “A Body of Divinity,” pp. 89-95.
  2. 1689 London Baptist Confession of Faith, ch. 5.
  3. 1618 Belgic Confession of Faith, Article 13.

Church and State no. 2: The two kingdoms

Church and State no. 2: The two kingdoms

We continue our discussion of the relationship between the church and the state (see the series here). The previous article in this series introduced the topic of church v. state. We discussed two critical paradigm shifts with which any American Christian audience must reckon (a task in which it sometimes fails). We presented three general operating environments in which the church often operates—their boosters often see these frameworks as the preferred, ideal paradigm. I then offered a precis of the five principles which should inform any discussion of the “church v. state” problem. Now, in this piece, we’ll examine the first and most basic principle for considering this issue. Here it is …

  • There are two kingdoms; Babylon and Jerusalem. Babylon will lose.

The Apostle John paints a picture of two competing kingdoms—Babylon and Jerusalem (Rev 17-18). This contrast is the story of history and reality. We’ll sketch each kingdom, in turn.

1. Babylon is Satan’s kingdom, symbolized as a charming seductress.

John’s picture fades in on a pretty woman sitting atop a beast.

The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet, and was glittering with gold, precious stones and pearls. She held a golden cup in her hand, filled with abominable things and the filth of her adulteries.

Revelation 17:4

John tells us the woman’s name is “Babylon the great,” that she is a prostitute, and the mother of all the abominations of the earth (Rev 17:5). This woman is a figure for the beguiling ways Satan tempts us to follow him.

For all the nations have drunk the maddening wine of her adulteries. The kings of the earth committed adultery with her, and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her excessive luxuries.

Revelation 18:3

Babylon, personified as an attractive call girl, offers “wine” to the masses resulting in “adulteries,” which God often uses as a metaphor for spiritual rebellion (e.g. Hosea 1-3). The nations lust after her, buying her services, committing “adultery.” The merchants trade with her, less interested in her physical charms than in the money they can make in trade. Like the sinister villain in Stephen King’s Needful Things, Babylon offers up whatever we desire with the aim of keeping us in her embrace. She buys us all, each in our own way. “By your magic spells all the nations were led astray,” (Rev 18:23).

This passage ends with Babylon’s destruction, her ruins aflame (“the smoke from her goes up for ever and ever,” Rev 19:3). The merchants, the heads of state, and all those involved in the economic system which abets this “trade” will cry aloud in shock when they behold the end of everything they know (Rev 18:4-20)—the “kingdom” which shaped their reality has fallen.

In the bible’s storyline Babylon is, of course, the empire which conquered Judah, destroyed the first temple, and carried the flower of the southern kingdom off into exile. Beyond the purely historical reference to that specific calamity, scripture later takes “Babylon” and uses it to personify evil and all that opposes God—it’s a figure, a metaphor, a representation. The prophet Isaiah speaks darkly about the king of Babylon, yet his words seem to shade over to a deeper meaning—perhaps referring to Satan himself (Isa 14:3ff). Zechariah speaks of an angel crushing into a basket a woman who represents sin and sending her far away to the east … where Babylon lies (Zech 5).

Now, in Revelation 17-18, God has poured out all His judgments, “Babylon” has fallen, and now Jesus returns to the world He left behind on that day so long-ago outside Jerusalem (Acts 1; Rev 19). In this passage, Babylon is Satan’s kingdom; and the system, culture, world, and values that oppose God have finally crumbled to bits—destroyed from on high with sudden violence (Rev 18:21).

When Jesus returns with “the armies of heaven” (Rev 19:14), He quickly destroys the beast, the false prophet, and the entire army which they mustered. This is a cosmic clash of two opposing forces—darkness v. light. Each character is the opposite of the other on the divine playbill:

Antichrist is Satan’s delegate → Jesus is the Father’s delegate.

Antichrist has an army → Jesus has an army.

Antichrist loses → Jesus wins.

After the millennium, God releases Satan, who tries to salvage what he can from the wreckage—a Battle of the Bulge-like gamble, a last roll of the dice (Rev 20:7-10). Now the struggle isn’t between the delegates, but between the supreme players themselves—it’s God who immolates Satan from on high with a divine fireball (Rev 20:9-10).

The evil empire falls in Revelation 17-18. The coup leaders are each cast into the lake of fire (Rev 19:20; 20:10). God has meted out rewards to the righteous, and judgment to the wicked (Rev 20:4-6, 11-15). Now that God has swept the debris of Satan’s coup away, God brings about His own kingdom (Rev 21-22). Creation is remade, sin is destroyed, and God finally has the community He’s been working to re-create since our first parents made their fateful choice. “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them,” (Rev 21:3)—Emmanuel, indeed (cf. Isa 7:14; Mt 1:23)!

2. Jerusalem is God’s kingdom, fighting with Babylon over the same ground.

Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the weeds tells us about His kingdom in a powerful way. He explained:

The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.

Matthew 13:24-26

Jesus wants to talk about the kingdom and this parable is an allegory[1] to explain all about it. This is one of the few parables where Jesus identifies the true referent for every character in the story; you have (1) a farmer, (2) an enemy, (3) a wheat crop, and (4) a bunch of weeds. The setup is simple; a farmer sows seed but it turns out bad!

That is terrible. Something’s gotta be done …

The owner’s servants came to him and said, “Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?”

“An enemy did this,” he replied.

The servants asked him, “Do you want us to go and pull them up?”

Matthew 13:27-28

The field was supposed to be one thing, but now it’s a hot mess. The servants think they should go clean it up—why not go and rip out the weeds? What does Jesus think?

“No,” he answered, “because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.”

Matthew 13:29-30

Jesus says no. He says the field will never be cleansed until the harvest—Jesus will give orders to sort it all out then. But, for now, just leave it alone—let the weeds and the wheat all grow up together. If they try to pick out the weeds now, they’ll probably just rip out a whole bunch of wheat. Better to leave it.

In Matthew’s gospel, the writer then inserts a few other parables about the kingdom, but circles back to Jesus’ explanation of our story. This is an intriguing story, so much so that the disciples wanted to hear Jesus explain it once they had a chance to speak to Him alone (Mt 13:36).

He answered, “The one who sowed the good seed is the Son of Man. The field is the world, and the good seed stands for the people of the kingdom. The weeds are the people of the evil one, and the enemy who sows them is the devil. The harvest is the end of the age, and the harvesters are angels.”

Matthew 13:37-39

Jesus has now explained all the referents:

kingdom of heaven→this scenario of events
farmer→Son of Man = Jesus
field→world
good seed ≈ wheat→people of kingdom
weeds→people of evil one
stealthy enemy→devil

Pay particular attention to the field—what is it? Jesus says it’s the world, and this “field” boasts two crops which are growing side by side—the “people of the kingdom” and “people of the evil one.” This battlespace is simple—two opposing kingdoms, each with its own commanding officer, each with its own followers, inhabiting the same territory. This war will resolve when the “harvesters” arrive, whom Jesus identifies as angels.

He explains:  

As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil. They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Whoever has ears, let them hear.

Matthew 13:36-43

This “field” that is our world will remain a mess until “the end of the age.” The harvesters will fix the field when Jesus sends them. But notice that Jesus now calls the “field” the “kingdom”—He says the angels “will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil.” The field is both the world and the kingdom. This suggests Jesus sees the world—this present battlespace—as transitioning into His kingdom at the decisive moment in the future when He intervenes. It’s as if “this world” is the territory at issue throughout history, and Jesus views it as already His, and judgment is (in part) Him sweeping evil out of His lands forever.

“Then,” He promises, “the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.” Why? Because the “weeds” will be gone, and the “wheat” will finally be free to flourish in the field (i.e., “the kingdom of their Father”) without an invasive species choking them.

Jesus’ kingdom is here, right now. It’s in this world in the form of a dispersed community in exile (see no. 3-4, below) in a hostile land.[2] This situation will remain that way until the end of the age (cf. the parable of the net at Mt 13:47-50)—it’s why Jesus said this whole parable, the entire state of affairs it sketched, “is like” the kingdom of heaven. As one early Christian discipleship manual said, “There are two ways, one of life and one of death, and there is a great difference between the two ways.”[3]

3. The world as the battlespace for the two kingdoms at war

This is a sketch of the battlespace we’ve occupied from the Fall to the present. This is the foundation for considering the vexing issue of church v. state. There is a kingdom of darkness called Babylon. There is also a kingdom belonging to God which the Apostle Paul refers to as “the Jerusalem that is above” (Gal 4:26; cf. Rev 21:2). These two kingdoms are the cultures, values, and societies corresponding to two quite different masters—Satan and God. Viewed the right way, we can frame the big picture of history as the story of these two kingdoms in supernatural conflict.

Babylon will lose. Jerusalem will win, and then (and only then) …

… with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth; with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked. Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist.

Isaiah 11:4-5

From this fountainhead, other principles logically follow. We’ll turn to these in the next articles.

[1] “A story, picture, etc., which uses symbols to convey a hidden or ulterior meaning, typically a moral or political one; a symbolic representation; an extended or continued metaphor,” (s.v. “allegory,” noun, no. 2, OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/5230?rskey=ts99zo&result=1&isAdvanced=false (accessed May 05, 2023)).

[2] For an argument for the “already, but not yet” aspect of the kingdom, see Herman Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom, trans. H. de Jongste (Phillipsburg: P&R, 1962), esp. §IV. Many Americans often turn to George Ladd when they think of “already, but not yet,” but Ridderbos published first.

For dispensationalist rejoinders to the idea of kingdom being present now, see esp. (1) Chafer, Systematic, pp. 5:333-358; 7:223-224, and (2) Alva McClain, The Greatness of the Kingdom: An Inductive Study of the Kingdom of God (reprint; Winona Lake: BMH, 2009).

[3] “Didache”1.1, in The Apostolic Fathers in English, trans. Rick Brannan (Bellingham: Lexham, 2012).

Church and State no. 1: A tricky question in a muddled world

Church and State no. 1: A tricky question in a muddled world

This essay (see the series) aims to help ordinary Christians rightly consider the relationship between the church and the state. This is important because Christians receive many contradictory messages about this issue. Some Christian influencers call for believers to “take America back for God.” Others just want good, old-fashioned Christian values to influence society, and they feel marginalized because Mayberry is gone and isn’t coming back. Still others just want the church to have nothing to do with politics—perhaps to the extent that their churches neglect to speak truth to a decadent culture.

So, there’s good reason to consider the “church v. state” issue with some fresh eyes—to go back to basics. I won’t address everything about this large topic, but I hope to establish a foundation for thinking about this issue the right way. This essay consists of six articles, of which this is the first.

In this introductory article I’ll sketch two paradigm shifts which impact any discussion along this line from an American context, introduce three common operating environments in which churches often operate, and provide a preview of this essay’s conclusions. Then, I’ll spend the bulk of the essay discussing five foundational principles that will help us work through the “church v. state” issue. I labored to ground these principles firmly in the biblical storyline, rather than in creeds, confessions, or political theology. This doesn’t mean I don’t value tradition; it just means first principles on important issues ought to be explicitly or implicitly scriptural.

Paradigm shift no. 1—the death of “Christendom” and the like

In the 20 centuries (and counting) since Jesus’ first advent, Christians in the West have often operated in an environment that assumed a church and state nexus. Since the time of Constantine, the church had presumed it would have the support of the state and of the culture around it. The tremors of the Enlightenment cracked this wide open.

But, even after this earthquake, the church still occupied a position of unquestioned influence and status in many nations—a defacto Christian-ish ethos pervaded. For example, as late as 1952 the National Council of Churches launched a $500,000 advertising blitz to promote the Revised Standard Version translation of the bible and publicly presented President Harry Truman with his own copy[1]—this is unthinkable in 2023.

Figure 1. Excerpt from Peter Thuesen, In Discordance with the Scriptures (New York: OUP, 1999), p. 70.

This situation began to change rapidly in the mid-20th century, when for perhaps the first time in its history the church in the Western world began to grapple with how to understand its role vis-à-vis the state as a minority community in a self-consciously secular world.[2] Some flavors of the American church have long responded to this with a defensive impulse which stems from its memory of a different time, when “while the state was not officially Christian, society seemed to promote values that were deemed essentially Christian.”[3] Whether this idyllic reality existed at meaningful scale outside of 1950s television sets is open to question.[4] However, that era is gone, secularism is here, the church has a minority status, and one theologian aptly likened this new world to an airplane flying blind without instruments, not knowing where it is or where it’s going.[5]

Certain American believers sometimes react by trying to re-Christianize society on a superficial level—to recapture a largely imaginary lost glory. One Christian historian described Victorian-era America as having “a veneer of evangelical Sunday-school piety” that amounted to “a dime-store millennium.”[6] It’s still common to hear older believers complain about the demise of compulsory prayer and bible reading in public schools. This ghost of a so-called “Christian nation” is a monkey some flavors of the American church have trouble shaking off its back—it often lurks in the background in the guise of a Christian-ish American exceptionalism or super-patriotism. 

Paradigm shift no. 2—Christianity shifts to the global south

The second paradigm shift for the church v. state issue is that many, many Christians now live in an environment that never knew Christianity as a civil religion[7] and are not handicapped by that cultural memory. Over the past 120 years, Christianity has at last become a truly global phenomenon. For many centuries, since the Arab conquest of the Mediterranean basin in the early 7th century, Christianity had been largely a Western religion.[8] But, as one church historian has noted, the period between 1815 to 1914 (the great age of missions) “constituted the greatest century which Christianity had thus far known.”[9] This missions movement produced a church that is now global and no longer beholden to the patronage of Western benefactors. These so-called “younger churches” are hungry, energetic, and often far outpace the enthusiasm and vitality of their Western “parents.”

There were now new centers in every continent, resulting in a map of Christianity that, rather than seeing it as having its base in the West, and from there expanding outward, sees Christianity as a polycentric reality, where many areas that had earlier been peripheral have become new centers … the new map of Christianity does not have one center, but many. Financial resources are still concentrated in the North Atlantic, as are educational and other institutions. But, theological creativity is no longer limited to that area.[10]

Indeed, most Christians now live nowhere near Europe or North America.

In 1900, 82% of Christians lived in the North. By 2020 this figure had dropped dramatically to just 33% … The future of World Christianity is largely in the hands of Christians in the global South, where most Christians practice very different kinds of the faith compared to those in the North. Christianity has shifted from a tradition that was once majority global North to one that is majority global South.[11]

Many of these Christians did not grow up in a “Christianized” culture, and so their thinking of the church and the state isn’t colored by sepia-toned memories of a bygone age. We can learn from these brothers and sisters and better appreciate the limitations of our own situation. So, for example, when an Argentine theologian critiques the culture Christianity of the “American Way of Life,” the American church ought to listen to its brother:

Christian salvation is, among other things, liberation from the world as a closed system, from the world that has room only for a God bound by sociology, from the “consistent” world that rules out God’s free, unpredictable action … The gospel, then, is a call not only to faith but also to repentance, to a break with the world. And it is only in the extent to which we are free from this world that we are able to serve our fellow men.[12]

This is a call to, among other things, divorce oneself from secular values and allegiances—including political ones. Perhaps because the author doesn’t come from a context where Christianity has been a civil religion, he can read the New Testament without explicitly or unwittingly conflating church and state—and that makes him (and others) worth listening to.

Three common operating environments for the church

Broadly speaking, churches operate in one of these three operating environments:

  1. Church in alliance with the state. In this arrangement the church and the state are generally bound together. Legislation and public policy will allegedly be informed by purportedly Christian values. This can take various forms. Theonomy envisions the church as the state (basically a theocracy);[13] the populist rhetoric from what is sometimes misleadingly labeled as “Christian nationalism” is downstream from some aspects of this theory. Constantinianism refers to the state controlling the church—when the Roman Emperor Constantine converted to faith he made Christianity the state religion and presided over councils about Christian doctrine as both the head of state and as the alleged head of the church. In Western Europe, many nations still retain the emaciated shell of a state church—even though that influence is now largely symbolic. Or, in a softer version of the same, varieties of American exceptionalism[14] advocate for America’s special role in God’s providence and its resulting obligation to honor God in all it does, or at least America’s role as “a communal paragon of justice, freedom, and equality.”
  2. Pluralism. This is also known as a “free church in a free state.” The idea is that government’s role is to preserve law and order and provide freedom for citizens to pursue their own religious path or none at all. The state is more of a neutral arbiter or policeman who keeps order.[15] The first amendment to the U.S. Constitution embodies this ethos in its “free exercise” and “establishment” clauses—the government cannot establish a religion or prohibit its free exercise.[16] The 1948 United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights also reflects this perspective.[17] Baptist churches which understand their heritage (and not all do) have always been champions of this ethos.
  3. Isolation. In its milder forms, this means Christians create their own alternative subcultures for reality (think about the movie The Village). Or, it can mean a church deliberately never speaks of “political issues” and chooses to not teach believers how to engage these topics as responsible citizens. Or, in perhaps its most extreme form, it can take the form of monasticism.[18] 

Many Americans Christians of a certain age and subculture are probably most comfortable with some version of American exceptionalism. On the other hand, some Christians are sick of it all and don’t want any hint of “politics” in the church. Other Christians believe church and state ought to stay separate, each minding their own business—their interests may overlap but their roles and functions are different.[19] Still others are theonomists who want a Christian America. Even more aren’t quite sure what they want and are falling prey to populist, bastardized variations of theonomy-ish talk from right-wing politicians who may or may not actually believe what they say.

What do the scriptures say? Do they provide a way out of this confusing maze?

Five principles—a preview of coming attractions

Here are a preview of the five foundational principles that I believe provide a solid, biblical basis for considering the “church v. state” question. These come from an unapologetically Baptist milieu, and some readers will spot this fairly quickly. Here they are, with a brief description.

  1. There are two kingdoms, Babylon and Jerusalem. Babylon will lose. This is the most fundamental truth about human history, the biblical story, and reality.
  2. God’s kingdom is distinct from every nation state. If we conflate America (or any nation) with the kingdom, we’re making a terrible mistake. “The church is the community of God’s people rather than an institution, and must not be identified with any particular culture, social or political system, or human ideology.”[20]
  3. A Christian’s core identity is as a child of God and a kingdom citizen, and so her principal allegiance must be to God’s kingdom (“Jerusalem”) and not to a nation state. If you’re a Christian, then God doesn’t much care that you’re an American. You now have a kingdom passport, kingdom citizenship, and a kingdom mandate. To the extent our most basic identity is rooted in America rather than God’s kingdom, then we are traitors.
  4. The church’s job is to be a kingdom embassy; a subversive and countercultural society calling outsiders to defect from Babylon and pledge allegiance to Jerusalem. “We argue that the political task of Christians is to be the church rather than to transform the world … The church exists today as resident aliens, an adventurous colony in a society of unbelief.”[21]
  5. Set apart, yet not isolated. The analogy of “church v. state” compared to “home v. work” is helpful. Christians must approach political and social issues as self-conscious outsiders with a kingdom agenda—to tell God’s truth to Babylon. A pluralist operating environment is the best operating environment for a local church.

I hope this brief sketch of the church v. state issue is helpful for you and provides a sure foundation for considering a question that will only get trickier in the coming years. Future articles in this series will discuss each of these five principles in detail.

[1] Peter Thuesen, In Discordance with the Scriptures (New York: OUP, 1999), pp. 4, 90. 

[2] This is an important caveat, because the long Baptist struggle for religious liberty took place within a Christian-ish milieu. What I’m referring to is the church as a minority community in an overtly secular world.  

[3] Justo Gonzalez, Christian Thought Revisited: Three Types of Theology, rev ed. (New York: Orbis, 1999), p. 128.

[4] See especially David Halberstam, The Fifties (New York: Fawcett Columbine, 1993), ch. 34. 

[5] See Carl F.H. Henry, Toward a Recovery of Christian Belief (Wheaton: Crossway, 1990), ch. 1. 

[6] George Marsden, Understanding Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991) p. 10.

[7] A civil religion is “a religion, or a secular tradition likened to a religion, which serves (officially or unofficially) as a basis for national identity and civic life,” (s.v. “civil,” see s.v. under “compounds,” OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/33575?redirectedFrom=civil+religion (accessed May 08, 2023)). I’m distinguishing this from “Christendom” in which an alleged Christianity has an external and superficial role as a traditional religion (s.v. “christendom,” noun, no. 3c, OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/32437?redirectedFrom=christendom (accessed May 09, 2023). For example, many Latin American countries have a “Christendom” background because of their Roman Catholic heritage, but it’s not necessarily a basis for national identity or civic life—read the Latin American liberation theologians.

[8] Justo Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity, vol. 1, rev. ed. (San Francisco: HarperOne, 2010), pp. 288-294. See also Kenneth S. Latourette, A History of Christianity, vol. 1, rev. ed. (New York: Harper & Row, 1975), pp. 286-291. 

[9] Kenneth S. Latourette, A History of Christianity, vol. 2, revised ed. (New York: Harper & Row, 1975), p. 1063.

[10] Justo Gonzalez, The Story of Christianity, vol. 2, revised ed. (San Francisco: Harper One, 2010), pp. 525, 526.

[11] Gina Zurlo, Global Christianity: A Guide to the World’s Largest Religion from Afghanistan to Zimbabwe (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2022), pp. 3-4.

[12] Rene Padilla, Mission Between the Times: Essays on the Kingdom, revised ed. (Carlisle: Langham, 2010), p. 42; emphasis in original. This essay is the presentation Padilla gave at the 1974 Lausanne Conference.

[13] On “theocracy,” I mean “[d]omination of the civil power by the ecclesiastical,” (John MacQuarrie, s.v. “theocracy,” in The Westminster Dictionary of Christian Ethics, ed(s). James Childress and John MacQuarrie (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986), p. 622).

On theonomy, see Rousas Rushdoony, Christianity and the State (Vallecito: Chalcedon, 1986). “A Christian theology of the state must challenge the state’s claims of sovereignty or lordship. Only Jesus Christ is lord or sovereign, and the state makes a Molech of itself when it claims sovereignty (Lev. 20:1-5). The church of the twentieth century must be roused out of its polytheism and surrender. The crown rights of Christ the King must be proclaimed,” (p. 10). Emphasis added. Theonomists often insist they do not endorse sacralism and want God-ordained institutions to remain in their own spheres of authority. Yet, one of the church’s jobs is to insist that “every sphere of life [including the government] must be under the rule of God’s word and under the authority of Christ the King,” (Christianity and the State, p. 9). Thus, they would argue this is not a church and state alliance at all. I believe this is a distinction without a meaningful difference.

[14] I’m drawing from John Wilsey’s discussions of “closed” and “open” American exceptionalism, respectively (American Exceptionalism and Civil Religion: Reassessing the History of an Idea (Downers Grove: IVP Academic, 2015), pp. 18-19).

[15] See especially Raymond Plant, s.v. “pluralism,” in Westminster Dictionary of Christian Ethics, pp. 480-481.

[16] For a trustworthy, plain language discussion of the historical context and legal interpretation of the religion clauses, see Congressional Research Service, “First Amendment Fundamental Freedoms,” in Constitution Annotated, https://constitution.congress.gov/browse/amendment-1/ (accessed 08 May 2023).

[17] Article 18: “Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance.” https://www.un.org/en/about-us/universal-declaration-of-human-rights.

[18] On monasticism, see Kenneth S. Latourette, A History of Christianity, vol. 1 (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1975), pp. 221-235.

[19] “Church and State might in a perfect society coalesce into one; but meantime their functions must be kept separate,” (Edgar Y. Mullins, The Axioms of Religion (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1908), p. 195).

[20] Lausanne Covenant, Article 6. 

[21] Stanley Hauerwas and William Willimon, Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony, expanded ed. (Nashville: Abingdon, 2014), pp. 39, 48.

Christ, Culture, and the Church

Christ, Culture, and the Church

This world is a mess. A few decades ago, Carl F.H. Henry wrote: “The West has lost its moral and epistemic compass bearings. It has no shared criterion for judging whether human beings are moving up or down, standing still, or merely on the move only God knows where.”[1] In the absence of a Biblical world-explanation, Henry argued, “[t]he search for an alternative model is beset with confusion, and Western society drifts indecisively toward chaos. Secular scholars seem unable to tell us where we are.”[2]

This is surely correct, even if (32 years hence) it prompts an eye roll and a muttered, “yeah, no kidding!” from the reader. My burden is to suggest what local churches ought to think about this situation—what we ought to do about it, what our posture towards this world ought to be.

First, I’ll define “culture” so we begin on the same page. Second, I’ll sketch[3] three helpful paradigms. The first is from the 1950s, the second from 1994, and the third from 2006. Each tries to answer this same question, in its own context. Each is inspired by the first. Finally, I’ll sketch out my own approach and confess with which paradigm my sympathies lie.

What is Culture?

The term “culture” means the distinctive ideas, customs, social behaviors, and way of life for a particular nation or people.[4] H. Richard Niebuhr suggests “culture” is a synonym for “civilization” or what biblical writers called “the world.”[5] In turn, the definition of “civilization” brings us back round to where we began: “the society, culture, and way of life of a particular area.”[6]

Niebuhr—Christ and Culture

H. Richard Niebuhr’s famous book began life as a series of lectures in which he sought to consider the “double wrestle of the church with its Lord and with the cultural society with which it lives in symbiosis …”[7] Niebuhr’s writing sparkles with an academic vibe. He doesn’t write as a churchman confronting urgent problems, but as a scholar reclining in his armchair, puffing on his pipe, staring into an ethereal distance. There’s nothing wrong with academics, of course—I only mean that his discussion is dispassionate and abstract.

He lays out a five-fold taxonomy of how the church ought to relate to culture:

  1. Christ against culture. The church is always in opposition. There is a war footing. Christ is opposed to this world, its culture, and He calls us to come out from the world and be separate.[8]
  2. Christ of culture. He guides civilization to its utopian goal of brotherhood and value. Christ “confirms what is best in the past, and guides the process of civilization to its proper goal.”[9] There is no antagonism.
  3. Christ above culture. Only thru salvation will Christ lead us to utopia.[10]
  4. Christ andculture in paradox. We must obey both authorities in this life while we endure and wait for Jesus. There is duality and tension here that is admittedly a bit schizophrenic—many people are likely here.[11]
  5. Christ transforms culture. This is a conversionist position. Jesus is a leaven that works on society from inside out, spearheading the Gospel all about.[12] There is a positive view of culture—”a sort of Jesus will fix it now” feel.[13]  

Bloesch—Responding to Reality

Donald Bloesch was a longtime professor of systematic theology at Dubuque Theological Seminary, in Iowa. In the inaugural tome of his seven-volume systematic, he described four possible responses to modernity.[14] His approach is practical, more “real,” and less theoretical than Niebuhr’s. He is less discussing a theory of Christ v. culture, and more describing how Christians choose to respond to the world as it is.

Here is Boesch’s typology, with some free paraphrasing from me. Not each response will contain all the traits, but the “feel” will be familiar:

  1. Restoration. There is a more insular focus on “rebuilding the walls” of the church. A “clear and hold” the line against the world ethos. A Christian counterculture mindset may produce a ghettoized outlook. There is impatience with dialogue with “the enemy.” Apologetics is largely defensive, to assure insiders they have “the truth.” There may be a scholastic fidelity to creeds, and a sectarian emphasis on the purity of a particular church. Empirical rationalism or fideism may be present.[15]
  2. Accommodation. We must update and revise the faith to reach people. We ought to forge a theology that can gain support from and connect with culture. This is essentially Niebuhr’s “Christ of culture.” Bloesch notes “the Christ it upholds is drawn from and shaped by the cultural ethos more than by the biblical revelation.”[16] This is traditional liberal theology. I would put Schleiermacher here, and perhaps some of Rauschenbusch and radical feminist theology like that of Rosemary Reuther, which locates authority in experience.[17]
  3. Correlation: This is a mediating, “Christ above culture” approach. Apologetics prepares the way for theology, and Christ will eventually reconcile culture with Himself. “[I]nstead of categorically repudiating worldly wisdom, they endeavor to assimilate it in a Christian world view or faith perspective.”[18]
  4. Confrontation. This is Bloesch’s position. It focuses on the antithesis between faith and culture. Its goal is conversion to the kingdom of God. The Gospel confronts and calls us to defect to God. It’s more about proclamation than apologetics—a “Christ transforming culture”-ish approach. The kingdom is leaven in the world, changing it from within. It is “not an apologetic that leaves the fortress of faith to engage in struggle with the world on its own terrain but an apologetic that finds its security precisely in the fortress of faith and calls the world to unconditional surrender by acknowledging the authority of the fortress of faith over its own domain.”[19]

Keller—All/And

Tim Keller re-shaped Neibuhr’s categories, helpfully critiqued each, and didn’t settle on either model.[20] Each of us, he suggested, is likely attracted to aspects of different models based on our gifts. We ought to treat these models and their attributes like a buffet—picking and choosing strategies based on our cultural moments and context.[21]

Here is Keller’s taxonomy:

  1. Transformationalist. We engage culture through an emphasis on pursuing our own vocations from a Christian worldview.[22]
  2. Relevance. “The animating idea behind the Relevance model is that God’s Spirit is at work in the culture to further his kingdom.”[23] This is Niebuhr’s “Christ of culture” and “Christ above culture.”
  3. Countercultural. The church is a, well … countercultural alternative society opposed to the world.
  4. Two kingdoms. “God rules all of creation through the ‘common kingdom’ in which people operate by natural revelation and the ‘redemptive kingdom’ in which Christians are ruled by special revelation.[24]
Keller, Center Church, p. 231.

My approach—Bloesch-ish

There is a reason why I defined “culture” at the outset. I’m skeptical that the distinctive ideas, customs, social behaviors, and ways of life for particular nations or peoples in Creation 1.0 will survive the jump to Creation 2.0. So, I don’t believe the church is called to “influence culture,” because this culture is scheduled to go up in flames. This doesn’t mean local churches must be isolationist. I don’t believe congregations exist to “influence culture,” but to push God’s counterculture into the public square as the ordained alternative. Supporting inner-city Gospel missions, crisis pregnancy centers, local schools (etc.) are not ends in and of themselves—they’re vehicles to show and tell God’s values and His Gospel to outsiders.

So, I’m largely unmoved by Keller’s framing (see his horizontal bar across the middle of the graphic), because “influencing culture” is not a goal. Getting people to defect from pagan culture and to God’s community is the goal. Churches must use innovative means to achieve that, motivated by love, compassion, and justice.

So, my framing is less “how do we influence culture” and more “how should we respond to culture.” Thus, I believe Bloesch’s discussion was more helpful. I have freely adapted and condensed his taxonomy and contextualized it for 2022. How should local churches respond to the disaster that is American culture? There are at least three different, contradictory ways Christians choose to answer that question:[25]

  1. The Alamo (defense). Fortify the walls, stock ammo, hunker down, and wait for Jesus. This is a defensive ethos—it’s about protecting the church. Even apologetics is less about engaging the enemy than about protecting Christians from being seduced by the Dark Side—like poor Kylo Ren. The mantra is to keep things pure and strong while we hold off “the enemy.” Despite protestations, it’s often less about evangelism and the Great Commission, and more about protecting church from danger. There is a pervasive “things ain’t like they used to be, and I’m mad as hell and I’m not gonna take it anymore” vibe at work.
  • Play-Dough. Accommodation to cultural tastes, with rationalizations. God is not a gendered being, feminine pronouns for Her are fine, Jesus has no sexual ethics, do what makes you feel good, faith is about feeling, not doctrine, “you do you.”  
  • Confrontation (offense). This perspective is less about “protecting the church,” and more about winsomely confronting the world employing various innovative means, and calling people to defect from Satan to Jesus.

It might be helpful to picture these three ways in simple pictures:

  1. The Alamo. Fade in on a castle with its doors barred, its drawbridge raised, its moat filled with hungry crocodiles, snipers on the parapets,[26] people sheltering inside, archers deploying, knights with swords at the ready, anxious to charge if the door is breached. The villages round about are the enemy—and they want to destroy your kids.
  2. Play-Dough. Focus in on the same castle. The folks are burning it down. They sift through the rubble and donate the stones to local nationals to build a shrine to a Veggie Goddess—who is really just Jesus by another name, anyway.   
  3. Confrontation. The castle is the church’s stronghold in an unholy land—an embassy to represent Christ to folks who want to know more, and at the same time a forward operating base to push His message into the world aggressively, forcefully … and engagingly. It wants local nationals to join the castle community.

Your view of “church v. culture” will shape your posture towards the world:

  1. Alamo: Focus on holiness for defensive purposes, so you’re not seduced by the Dark Side (like Vader). Emphasis on bible reading, bible interpretation, defending the faith. A relentless, perhaps even unwitting “insider” focus—resources emphasize being educated about “dangers” facing the church, protecting your children, etc.
  2. Confrontation. Pushing the message and implications of the Gospel outside the church’s walls—spiritual combat with a winning smile.

I fear many of us are tempted to adopt the Alamo ethos. There is a time and place for defense. But, we mustn’t forget offense—and we certainly can’t confuse belligerent defensiveness with that winning offense. For example, June is Pride Month:

  1. Alamo. We preach defensive sermons from Leviticus 18 and tell our congregation that “homosexuality is bad,” and distribute free books to the congregation explaining why transgenderism isn’t Scriptural.
  2. Confrontation. We record several short videos telling a better story than the “sex as identity” message so many people believe, then spend several hundred dollars advertising these videos on social media platforms in our local community, and invite comment and discussion.

I believe churches ought to err on the side of Confrontation, which is really just evangelism. It’s easy to stick with the Alamo ethos. I think we must do more.

[1] Carl F.H. Henry, Toward a Recovery of Christian Belief (Wheaton: Crossway, 1990), p. 15.  

[2] Ibid, p. 16.  

[3] I cannot hope to do more than briefly sketch these approaches—consult the referenced works for more detail and do not assume my abbreviated discussion here captures all the nuance of each author’s position!

[4] Oxford English Dictionary, s.v. “culture,” noun, 7a. March 2022. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/45746?rskey=Ztxhta&result=1&isAdvanced=false  

[5] H. Richard Niebuhr, Christ and Culture (New York: Harper and Row, 1951), p. 32.  

[6] New Oxford American Dictionary, s.v. “civilization,” 3, p. 317.  

[7] Niebuhr, Christ and Culture, p. xi.  

[8] Ibid, pp. 40-41. “That world appears as a realm under the power of evil; it is the region of darkness, into which the citizens of the kingdom of light must not enter; it is characterized by the prevalence in it of lies, hatred, and murder; it is the heir of Cain. It is a secular society, dominated by the ‘lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life,’ or, in Prof. Dodd’s translation of these phrases, it is ‘pagan society, with its sensuality, superficiality and pretentiousness, its materialism and its egoism.’ It is a culture that is concerned with temporal and passing values, whereas Christ has words of eternal life; it is a dying as well as a murderous order, for ‘the world passes away and the lust of it.’ It is dying, however, not only because it is concerned with temporal goods And contains the inner contradictions of hatred and lie, but also because Christ has come to destroy the works of the devil and because faith in him is the victory which overcomes the world. Hence the loyalty of the believer is directed entirely toward the new order, the new society and its Lord,” (Ibid, p. 48).

[9] Ibid, p. 41.  

[10] “… true culture is not possible unless beyond all human achievement, all human search for values, all human society, Christ enters into life from above with gifts which human aspiration has not envisioned and which human effort cannot attain unless he relates men to a supernatural society and a new value-center. Christ is, indeed, a Christ of culture, but he is also a Christ above culture,” (Niebuhr, Christ and Culture, p. 42).

“These men are Christians not only in the sense that they count themselves believers in the Lord but also in the sense that they seek to maintain community with all other believers. Yet they seem equally at home in the community of culture. They feel no great tension between church and world, the social laws and the Gospel, the workings of divine grace and human effort, the ethics of salvation and the ethics of social conservation or progress,” (Ibid, p. 83).

[11] “Hence man is seen as subject to two moralities, and as a citizen of two worlds that are not only discontinuous with each other but largely opposed. In the polarity and tension of Christ and culture life must be lived precariously and sinfully in the hope of a justification which lies beyond history,” (Niebuhr, Christ and Culture, p. 43).

[12] “Christ is seen as the converter of man in his culture and society, not apart from these, for there is no nature without culture and no turning of men from self and idols to God save in society,” (Niebuhr, Christ and Culture, p. 43).

[13] “Hence the conversionist is less concerned with conservation of what has been given in creation, less with preparation for what will be given in a final redemption, than with the divine possibility of a present renewal,” (Ibid, p. 195).

[14] Boesch, Theology of Word & Spirit, pp. 252-272. 

[15] “A sectarian theology will do battle for the sake of the church or the elect, the gathered fellowship of true believers, not for the sake of the world for whom Christ died,” (Bloesch, Word & Spirit, p. 268). 

[16] Ibid, p. 257.  

[17] “If a symbol does not speak authentically to experience, it becomes dead or must be altered to provide a new meaning,” (Rosemary Reuther, Sexism and God-talk: Towards a Feminist Theology (Boston: Beacon, 1993), pp. 12-13).

[18] Bloesch, Word & Spirit, p. 262.  

[19] Bloesch, Word & Spirit, p. 271.

[20] Timothy Keller, Center Church (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2012), pp. 194-243.

[21] Ibid, p. 240.

[22] Ibid, p. 197.  

[23] Ibid, p. 202.  

[24] Ibid, p. 209.  

[25] This is adapted from Donald Bloesch’s discussion in A Theology of Word & Spirit (Downers Grove: IVP, 1994), pp. 252-272. 

[26] I’m aware modern snipers didn’t exist in medieval times, but just go with it …

When is a Church Not a Church?

When is a Church Not a Church?

I want to talk about what “the church” is. This will be a high-level discussion, not a defense of a particular kind of church (Baptists v. Methodists, etc.). I want to talk about this because I fear we forget just how important it is to get this right. As sectarian battles light up social media and the news (with no end in sight), this deceptively simple issue deserves some consideration. 

There are different ways we use the word “church:”

  1. The building where the congregation meets. This is common language, and I get it, but it’s wrong.
  2. In a wholistic sense, considering the entire congregation of the faithful throughout the world. We’ll begin with this.
  3. In an institutional sense—a local place that exists somewhere. This is the sense which we’ll spend most of our time pondering.[1]

Wholistic Sense—Church as Brotherhood of Christ-followers

Three strikingly different theologians offer up similar definitions for “the church” in a wholistic sense.

Emil Brunner says the church is “a brotherhood resulting from faith in Christ,” and every “church” (viewed denominationally or singly) is but one instrument, vessel, or shell of that brotherhood that spreads that message of redemption.[2] I think this is a beautiful description.

Beth Felker Jones explains a church is “the community that rejoices in God’s gracious salvation … the church is the people of God, called out to bear visible witness, in the body and as a body, to the free and transformative gift of grace we have received in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.”[3] Again, simple and beautiful—especially the first portion.

Wayne Grudem writes “[t]he church is the community of all true believers for all time.”[4]

No matter what other sectarian loyalties we’re ready to defend, we must get this right—and these good definitions help us. God’s plan is to gather a community, through Jesus the King, to be with Him in His coming kingdom—forever. He’s been building that community since the Fall, adding to it all the while, across all that space and time. So, God’s congregation (i.e. assembly) is the community of all true believers for all time.

This is important, but now to something more specific—how do you know if you’re in a “good” local church, or a “bad” one?

Individual Sense—Ethos Pentagon + Tyler Heptagon

What I’m really asking is—how much has to change (i.e. go wrong) before “a thing” is no longer “that thing?” We’ll discuss the individual church by looking at it from two different angles:

  1. Ethos ≈ mood, characteristics, feel (etc.) of the church, and
  2. Practice—what does the congregation actually do? What are they about?

The Ethos Pentagon

This is a modification of the classic “four marks” of the church, which I’ll call the “Ethos Pentagon.” The Nicene-Constantinople Creed (381 A.D.) set the guardrails for “the church” a long, long time ago. Untold millions of Christians have found it helpful, so we ought to, also: “I believe in one holy, catholic, and apostolic church.”[5] Perhaps the most helpful controlling passage that expresses this ethos is Ephesians 4:1-5.

I’m adding “brotherly love” (inspired by Emil Brunner[6]) as the animating force which drives the four classic marks from Nicaea (cf. 1 Jn 3-4). So, we’re left with a pentagon that looks like this:[7]

Love. This is most clearly seen in 1 John 3-4, which I don’t have space to discuss in detail. “The person who doesn’t love does not know God, because God is love,” (1 Jn 4:8). If this ethos doesn’t animate everything a church does, then it’s nothing, worthless, a fraud (1 Cor 13:1-3; see also Col 3:8-17 (cf. Eph 4:1-5)). Love the fundamental mark of Christianity.[8] Emil Brunner writes:

The Spirit who is active in the Ekklesia expresses Himself in active love of the brethren and in the creation of brotherhood, of true fellowship.[9]

The one thing, the message of Christ, must have the other thing, love, as its commentary. Only then can it be understood and move people’s hearts. True, the decisive thing is the Word of witness to what God has done. But this Word of witness does not aim merely to teach, but also to move the heart.[10]

The song “Proof of Your Love” (by for KING & COUNTRY) sums up this “brotherly love” ethos that should drive the classic four Nicene marks.

A church is only a true church to the extent its attitude, mood, and vibe is one of love for one another, and for the lost. This suggests a congregation with a consistently pugilistic, angry, outraged face towards the world may not even be a “church” at all.

Oneness ≈ Unity. This is an attitude—all Christ-followers are part of the same community, the same brotherhood! Christ is the Head of one body, one community, one congregation—this is why the biblical references are sometimes to one particular congregation, or to all the scattered congregations considered as a whole.

The Church is “one” because Father, Son, and Spirit are One. The Church shares the same faith (Eph 4:5). The Church partakes of the same “loaf” of bread, and the same “cup of blessing” at the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor 10:16-17; Eph 4:5). The Church shares in the same baptism (Eph 4:5). Perhaps it’s helpful to see Christ’s congregation as “one” in the sense that every true church or denomination is a distinct branch of the one tree that is Christ’s body.[11]

You only have a true church to the extent that it recognizes other groups of genuine Christ-followers as brothers and sisters in the same family. This suggests that, to the extent that your congregation is exclusivist, it may well be a false church.

Holiness. We want to “keep Christianity weird” by obeying God’s laws because we love Him. This means we think, live, and act differently than the world around us, because we’re guided by God’s values. Though it’s an anachronism to impute this to Nicaea, we’re essentially talking about the doctrine of separation (rightly understood). Christ wants His church to be pure when He returns (Eph 5:25-27).

A church is only a true church to the extent that it, as a local fellowship, shows God’s love to the world by the transformed lives of its members![12] If a church does not push an ethos of personal and corporate holiness—doing what His word says!—then it may be a false “church.”

Catholic. God’s family is bigger than your tribe—His community has existed since Adam and Eve, across space and time, encompassing millions of men, women, boys, girls—even today! See Revelation 5:9-10 and 1 Corinthians 12:12-27.

We learn from one another, across man-made geo-political, racial, cultural, and gender boundaries because we’re all part of the same family, with gifts to bring to the table! It also means this brotherhood in Christ is meant for the whole world—to be spread everywhere, not ghettoized in a particular area.[13]

Beth Felker Jones writes that we ought to:[14]

  1. Recognize that no one part of the church is the whole body of Christ.
  2. Rejoice in the shared doctrine and practice that belong to the whole church.
  3. Allow differences to flourish, without seeing it as a threat to unity.
  4. Humbly listen to and be willing to learn from other parts of the body.
  5. Look for and rejoice in God’s active work in the whole world.

You only have a true church to the extent that it learns from other genuine Christ-followers and works together to spread God’s message. If you believe only your tribe is a “true church,” no matter how finely you try to finesse it, then your “church” may be a false church.   

Apostolic. This means holding fast to the true and apostolic teaching about the Gospel and Christian life—Jesus and Peter wouldn’t think your message was crazy.[15] A continuity of belief with the past—built upon the apostles and prophets. Christianity has content—it isn’t playdough (Jude 3; Eph 2:20).

You only have a true church to the extent that it believes, teaches, and lives out what Jesus and the apostles taught. So, for example, the lower your church’s doctrines of major concern rank on Paul Henebury’s Rules of Affinity, the less “true” your church may be.

Who cares? A Methodist and an Anglican will tell us why. Beth Felker Jones explains:[16]

  1. Unity: in a world of strife, we show God’s love by our love for one another, and mirror God’s own unity.
  2. Holiness: we show the world the alternative to brokenness and wrongness—God’s holiness.
  3. Catholic: in a world with emptiness and despair, we invite anyone to the table to share in God’s goodness so we can learn from each other and grow, together—treasuring particularity and differences.
  4. Apostolic: in a world full of lies, we tell the truth about God and His message of love and forgiveness.

Michael Bird notes the following:[17]

Practice—The Tyler Heptagon

Now, what about practice? I’ve never felt the Nicene marks (even augmented by “love”) was enough to capture what a “true church” ought to be about. So, I’ve gradually developed what I call the “Tyler Heptagon” as a general descriptor for a faithful local church:[18]

The components are not difficult to follow:

  1. Christ life + death + resurrection: these must be major emphases!
  2. Scriptures: they’re given by God and are our supreme authority.
  3. Conversion: emphases on repent + believe + grow.
  4. Missional: Gospel message and its fruit expressed in a “conscience of the kingdom” ethos in society. This is a major failing for too many local churches. If you have no practice of evangelism, your church is derelict in its duties. I’m not referring to fruit per se—I’m talking about effort. Are you doing anything, or is evangelism a passive wish?
  5. Praise to God: this must be a major emphasis!
  6. Right practice: a reformation, “always reforming” mindset—not a faith expression and doctrine set in immobile concrete.[19] Whatever you might say, if your every reaction to anything “new” or “other” as related to your faith tradition is immediate hostility and a “run away!” mindset, your feet are set in concrete.
  7. Right heart and motivations: These are affections—an honest love for God must be behind everything we say and do … or else we get everything wrong.

What Does This Mean?

When you consider both ethos and practice, to the extent these things aren’t there, or are weak, your church is unhealthy or maybe even false. In a shadowy but indefinable way, at some point if enough of these things are weak or missing altogether, you don’t have a true church at all.

Think about it this way—at what point is a car a junker? When the seatbelt won’t buckle unless you slam it really hard? When the sliding doors on the minivan won’t open, anymore? When it won’t start consistently? In isolation, these aren’t deal-breakers. But, when they’re all persistently there, at some point you stand back and admit, “yeah … this car is a piece of junk!” You didn’t realize it until that moment, and maybe you can’t pin down the exact moment the car became a piece of junk. But, still … now you wake up and realize you drive a piece of junk car.

As you consider ethos and practice, it’s the same with a local church. The state of a church—at what point it “becomes” unhealthy or perhaps even false—is a totality of the circumstances assessment, and a number of factors could push it across the line. Perhaps these two metrics, ethos and practice, will help as you consider how to make your own church healthier.

Our churches will never be perfect. But, they can all be better. Let love inform your ethos. Doctrine without love is nothing. Purity without love is nothing. A church that doesn’t evangelize is derelict. A rigid dogmatism without heart is death. A closedmindedness to further reformation is no virtue. Let’s make our churches be more about Jesus than a reflection of our sectarian battlelines.

[1] Emil Brunner doesn’t like to consider the church from an institutional perspective, preferring instead to speak in a wholistic sense of a brotherhood of all who share faith in Christ. To him, the institutional church is the shell or instrument of the ecclesia. I get what he’s saying, but when it gets down to brass tacks, out of the clouds, people need to know when they’re in a true, bona fide, legitimate local assembly. We must speak of the church on the local, institutional basis, too. So, here I stand.

[2] Brunner, The Christian Doctrine of the Church, Faith, and the Consummation, p. 128ff. 

[3] Beth Felker Jones, Practicing Christian Doctrine: An Introduction to Thinking and Living Theologically (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2014), p. 195.

[4] Grudem, Systematic, p. 853.

[5] Πιστεύομεν … εἰς μίαν ἁγίαν καθολικὴν καὶ ἀποστολικὴν ἐκκλησίαν.

[6] See my article “Brotherly Love and the Church.” 23 October 2020. https://bit.ly/3qhLzdy. 

[7] For my discussion of the four marks, I’m generally following Michael Bird as a base unless I specifically note otherwise (Evangelical Theology: A Biblical and Systematic Introduction (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2020),pp. 833-842.

[8] The Cape Town Commitment (2010) reads: “The people of God are those from all ages and all nations whom God in Christ has loved, chosen, called, saved and sanctified as a people for his own possession, to share in the glory of Christ as citizens of the new creation. As those, then, whom God has loved from eternity to eternity and throughout all our turbulent and rebellious history, we are commanded to love one another. For ‘since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another,’ and thereby ‘be imitators of God…and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.’ Love for one another in the family of God is not merely a desirable option but an inescapable command. Such love is the first evidence of obedience to the gospel, the necessary expression of our submission to Christ’s Lordship, and a potent engine of world mission,” (Article 1.9, https://lausanne.org/content/ctc/ctcommitment#p1-9).

[9] Brunner, Church, Faith, and Consummation, p. 134. 

[10] Brunner, Church, Faith, and Consummation, p. 136. 

[11] This is what Alister McGrath calls the “biological approach” to oneness (Christian Theology: An Introduction, 3rd ed. (Malden: Blackwell, 2001), p. 497). 

[12] “When the church is holy, we bear visible and material witness to God’s love for the world,” (Jones, Christian Doctrine, p. 201).

[13] Brunner, Church, Faith, and Consummation, pp. 122-123. 

[14] Jones discussed this under a “ecumenical” heading in the introduction to her systematic theology (Christian Doctrine, pp. 4-9), but I co-opted it as a great shorthand to describe the catholic ethos a church ought to have. Hopefully, she’ll forgive me! This is quoted nearly verbatim—it isn’t my paraphrase.

[15] Michael Svigel helpfully suggests seven teachings that summarize the Christian message:  (1) the triune God as Creator and Redeemer, (2) the fall and resulting depravity, (3) the person and work of Christ, (4) salvation by grace through faith, (5) inspiration and authority of Scripture, (6) redeemed humanity incorporated into Christ, and (7) the restoration of humanity and creation (RetroChristianity: Reclaiming the Forgotten Faith (Wheaton: Crossway, 2012), pp. 175-176).

[16] Jones, Christian Doctrine, pp. 203-204. What follows are my summaries of Jones’ comments—they aren’t quotes.

[17] Bird, Evangelical Theology, p. 842.

[18] This began life as my own re-phrase of what I call the “Stackhouse hexagon,” which was itself inspired by David Bebbington (John Stackhouse, “Generic Evangelicalism,” in Four Views on the Spectrum of Evangelicalism, ed. Andrew Naselli and Collin Hansen (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), pp. 123-124). However, it’s been colored by so much reading, and I’ve added and subtracted and modified so much, that I feel free to give it my own label, at this point. Stackhouse (and Bebbington) used their models as theological descriptors of evangelicalism. In my modification, I use it as a model for a “generically faithful local church.”

[19] See especially Roger Olson on the perils of a “conservative” mindset that, in functional practice, believes the Spirit has nothing new to teach the church to better live out the Christian faith as revealed in Scripture (How to be Evangelical Without Being Conservative (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2008), pp. 13-42).

Thinking about Israel and the Church

Thinking about Israel and the Church

Here are some slides about a difficult topic. You shouldn’t mistake this presentation as a definitive assessment, or even fully representative of major positions. There are too many nuances, even within the same circles, to capture here. But still, these slides do a credible job of laying out some broad guardrails to think about this issue. I present three different options, and devote several slides to each one (check the headings).

Here you are …

Sad about being fightin’ mad

Sad about being fightin’ mad

I’ve been slowly wending my way through Kenneth Latourette’s wonderful History of Christianity: Beginnings to 1500. I began the book at the year 500 A.D., finished it, and have now circled back to the beginning to fill in the gap. I came across this observation from him just this morning:

Christians know they should be united, but they often are not. Because we are what we are, the quarrels are often about secondary issues―disagreements over how to express Christianity. The disagreements are rarely about the trinity, the Gospel, two-nature Christology, or original sin. It’s a sad disconnect, and it’ll never go away as long as we’re east of Eden.

Recent circumstances in my congregation make me read Latourette’s comments with sadness. We’ve had six people leave our church in the past two months because we had a wedding as the worship service on a Sunday morning.

  • I was told it was blasphemous to “usurp” the “proper” worship service.
  • I was told it was a “poor testimony” to unbelievers to see a wedding on a Sunday morning.
  • I was criticized for allowing decorations to be put up which “covered the cross” behind the pulpit … even though that cross is only two years old, and for 37 years there was nothing on the wall behind the pulpit.
  • I was told it was wrong for me to move our Wednesday evening bible study and prayer meeting to another room inside the building so we could stage wedding decorations in a convenient place.
  • I was told I allowed the building to be made to “look like a bar” because there was subdued lighting.
  • One (now former) member told me she didn’t believe I had made “Godly decisions” and thus no longer trusted me.
  • Another (now former) member suggested that, because the folks who did the lighting had the word “dragon” in the company name, we had somehow colluded with Satan (cf. Rev 12).
  • One (now former) member pointed his finger at me angrily during a public meeting and said I was wrong to remove the American flag from the platform for the wedding. I now plan to never return that flag to the platform.
  • Another (now former) member said I did not preach the Gospel, and suggested I received poor training.
  • Another (now former) member suggested I was wrong to point out during a recent sermon that Bob Jones University has a legacy of evil racism, and that the university didn’t drop its inter-racial dating ban until 2000. He explained Bob Jones University “had reasons for those policies.”
  • I was heavily criticized for allowing the wedding party to hold a private reception inside the church building afterwards, during which time they danced. I was told I allowed the building to be desecrated.

In short, my decision to hold a wedding for two church members as the worship service on a Sunday morning has prompted an exodus of six people. In each case, I interpret the wedding as the “final straw” and the trigger for a decision which was inevitable. I attribute it to three factors; the first two are often intertwined but are not quite the same:

  1. I do not model an “America exceptionalism” brand of Christianity.
  2. I do not hold to a second-stage fundamentalist philosophy of ministry which sees holiness as synonymous with a culturally conditioned and scripturally suspect set of external behaviors.
  3. I believe a church which fails to plan and execute corporate evangelism is derelict in its duties. Results are God’s business, but the responsibility to spread the Gospel is ours. This is non-negotiable. Thus a church which is purely insular is a useless social organization. One (now former) member complained that I spoke about the Gospel too much.

Local churches will always struggle to “make real” Jesus’ heart for unity. For me, this is a particularly sad blow because one of our congregation’s three “platforms” is to build community and love one another. This is a frequent emphasis in my sermons and teachings. Unfortunately, it isn’t yet a reality in our congregation. Like many churches, ours is small. Morale will suffer. It ought not to be this way. It makes me so sad, because I don’t know what these people think Christianity is. What have they been doing all their lives? How many others (in my congregation and yours) think the same way?

Singing the Ballot Blues

Singing the Ballot Blues

This Sunday, I preached a sermon about voting. It’s as close as I’ll ever get to telling Christians how to vote. I didn’t tell people “vote for Donald Trump or America is toast,” nor did I say “We must vote for Joe Biden!” I took a middle road, which is really the best road. It’s an uncomfortable road, because I believe a Christian ought to feel politically “homeless” in a world to which he doesn’t belong.

The Christian faith is about hope. Hope for a better world. Hope for a better us. Hope for justice. Hope that things are meant to be better than they are.

Hope that a God exists who is good, and that His Son Jesus of Nazareth lived, died and rose again to fix this broken world, by the power of the Spirit.

The Christian faith is about hope that God will rescue some of us, so we can be with Him in the new community, as part of a new family, in the new and better world to come. Christians can live here in peace and joy because of this new relationship.

But, while we wait for all that good stuff to happen … we’re stuck here. We can’t withdraw from society and isolate in Tupperware containers. We can’t marry the Church to the culture. We’re in this uneasy middle ground, with the Church set apart from the culture but not isolated from it.

This produces questions about how the Church should interact with society[1]. The election is 03 November; what should you think about voting?

I tried to answer that, here. I provided three principles to follow when voting:

  1. God will fix everything … later.
  2. Vote to support all kingdom values, not just some.
  3. Realize God doesn’t care if you don’t like your leaders.

The uncomfortable bit is in the second principle. I’m essentially taking the approach Michael Svigel summarizes pretty well in his article The Conscience of the Kingdom: A Third Way for Christians Caught Between Isolationism and Constantinianism. He writes:

On the basis of God’s Word and in allegiance to the Lord Jesus Christ, Christians speak and act on behalf of righteousness. Christians address political corruption, weigh in on social ills, take righteous action on behalf of truth, justice, and mercy, and do so in ways that refuse either to empower a “strongman” or take shelter in a bunker. All of this is done in a manner that reflects the fruit of the Spirit and the virtues of faith, hope, and love. Conscience Christians avoid any alliances or allegiances that would surrender their ability to speak prophetically to the “Herods” of their day. And they refuse to surrender the impartiality necessary to serve as the conscience of the kingdoms of their age.

This kind of approach almost always means withdrawing membership and loyalty to political parties and political action organizations, but it never means retreating from political, social, cultural, and moral engagement. It means boldly but lovingly speaking out against unrighteousness and injustice while promoting righteousness and justice—assuming, of course, that Christians are actually living out righteousness and justice themselves! In the Conscience of the Kingdom approach, the Church neither unites with nor retreats from the State; rather, she lives as the Church in the State and speaks as the Church to the State.

So, here’s the sermon. I think it’s pretty important:

[1] For an excellent discussion, see especially John S. Feinberg and Paul D. Feinberg, Ethics for a Brave New World, 2nd ed. (Wheaton: Crossway, 2010), 697-736; esp. 711-714.