“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.” These are the words of Martin Luther King Jr., one of my heroes and quite possibly the greatest civil rights activist in American history. When I consider these words I too have this dream: that one day America might be color-blind. Yet in this Presidential election, I fear that this is not the case.

This puts me in mind of Charles Dickens’ words, “It was the best of times; it was the worst of time.” It is a tale of two candidates: one with black skin and one with white skin. One candidate stands for abortion unrestricted by law while the other stands for life at conception, protected by law. One stands for a socialistic redistribution of wealth while the other stands for lower taxes across the board. One stands for biased justice while the other stands for equal justice before the law.

Yes, the first is Barack Obama and the second is John McCain. From every sign that I have seen, the former will win this election due in part, not to his character, but to the color of his skin. This, say King’s children who support Obama, is what their father would have wished for: voting a candidate into office based on the color of his skin.

Maybe this sounds bad coming from a white middle-class student who hasn’t suffered much from racism. Maybe I just don’t understand. Then again, maybe I do. Don’t get me wrong, I would like nothing better than to say that I had voted for the first black president: I, a descendant of slaveholders and Confederates could vote to end the color barrier for the highest office in the land. I would like few things better.

Yet, in good conscience I cannot. Barack Obama will not get my vote based on the color of his skin, but will lose it based on the quality of his character. I realize that my vote will most likely be swallowed up in the left-leaning politics of my home state. Yet if I am to follow my hero in the civil rights movement and his great ideal of judging based on character, I must overlook Senator Obama’s skin color and vote against him. This is the meaning of King’s words and this is why I support Senator McCain for President of the United States.

This is one of those simple-yet-profound, easy-to-read yet substantive and lengthy, Truth-and-Grace balanced columns that I so wish I had somehow written myself. Answers in Genesis author Abby Nye offers not only an overview of true and false “tolerance,” and moral relativism, and steps in opposing it.

Tolerance is a sham. Tolerance is much talked about, but rarely practiced. Tolerance, as defined by the politically correct, means tolerating those who fit snugly within the borders of the politically correct.

[. . .]

The myth of tolerance is fueled by two major lies. You may not recognize these lies when you first encounter them. Initially, they may even sound good and make sense. But when you subject them to the scrutiny of basic reasoning, the lies become apparent.

The first lie is that tolerant people are good people and that intolerant people are bad people. Inherent in this idea is that tolerance is always good. Therefore, the more tolerant a person is, the better a human being that person becomes.

Really? Why don’t we try it out:

Let’s say you are a male at college and your roommate wants his girlfriend to spend the night in your dorm room. You tolerate that with a wink and a nod, and hey, you’re cool. You’re tolerant. Who are you to judge?

Let’s say the next night, he wants to have two girls spend the night. You might be a little more uncomfortable with this scenario, and it’s not really your thing, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be your roommate’s thing. And besides, you’ve already proven yourself tolerant of one girl and earned the accolade of good guy. By extending the logic of tolerance, if you tolerate two girls, you become twice as tolerant and twice as good. You are doubly understanding. Doubly less judgmental and doubly compassionate.

Now, let’s say the roommate is tired of sexual escapades in the dorm room with two girls at a time and wants to try something different. Really different. Maybe bring a sheep in the room. Or a cow. Or a little boy. You now have an incredible opportunity to prove just how open-minded and truly tolerant you really are. You can see how once started down the path of tolerance, you begin veering down a slippery slope. Tolerance is not the equivalent of goodness. Blind tolerance without discretion is anything but good. It’s ignorant. G. K. Chesterton referred to tolerance as the virtue that remains after a man has lost all his principle.

[. . .]

When we fail to deal with the tolerance issue, two things happen. As conservatives, we compromise liberty. As Christians, we compromise truth. Those are the two things at risk when we silently bow to leftist tolerance.

So, how do college students deal with the problem of psuedo-tolerance? Based on my own experiences, including some mistakes, I offer the following ideas [. . .]

One of my favorites in her “tolerance” arguing tips is no. 7: Smile. “Why? Because you’re right,” she quips.

Only sporadically have I posted shorter items here, and I certainly don't mean to detract from Roccondil's excellent essay below, Abortion and the Role of a Leader.

Also, I've never posted a video link on this site. Yet this introduction to a lecture series on “Christless Christianity,” also the subject of a new book, both by Dr. Michael Horton, is a great place to start. Should Christianity really be a list of moral to-dos, whether liberal or conservative? Is the Church really fine with its doctrine — creeds — but bad with its actions — deeds? Or is the problem that with either “creeds” or “deeds,” far too much focus is being placed on humans instead of God and His glory?

Originally written for the opinion column of “The Bagpipe” and expanded for Faithfusion.net.

I am not a single-issue voter and I probably never will be. Yet I come dangerously close to being one when I consider an issue like abortion. I see few issues which are so black-and-white that even those who support “reproductive rights” will not give straight answers when asked about the issue directly. I think that in this November Presidential election, the issue of abortion needs to be at the forefront of our thinking.

There are some who think that abortion is something that will end “in God’s good timing,” This, of course, is the same logic used of slavery in the nineteenth century and is as destructive now as it was during the American Civil War. The reason is that the issue of abortion is inseparably linked to ideas of leadership and character that ought to inform us when choosing any leader, not just a president.

It is certainly true that a president will have little direct influence over the laws governing the procedure of abortion, and yet it is a part of the President’s duty to try to do something or make a clear moral statement about the issue. The President has a unique role as a protector of American citizens. He is commander of our armed forces and of federal law enforcement and therefore if he is not prepared to protect the weakest Americans from harm, he is not doing his job. If he does not speak out for those who have no voice, then he has abandoned his God-given duties as a governing authority. When the government does not prevent moral evil, it has failed in its God-given task.

At this point, I am going to directly address the positions of the two major candidates in this election: John McCain and Barack Obama.

For several years, I’ve barely written about political issues. Since retiring somewhat from the incidental position of “token campus-newspaper right-winger,” my interests have diverged more into socio-cultural tenets and worldviews. That especially includes the struggle of true, God-focused, Biblically balanced Christianity against heretical views and other bad stuff.

Meanwhile, the presidential election kept going and I didn’t much care. The conservative crop of candidates was underwhelming, and I’m not just saying that because all the other conservatives were saying that. Sure, many bloggers and such were trying to muster sufficient enthusiasm to defeat either Clinton or Obama with whoever we had to work with. But I would rather write about honoring God in art and fiction, discouraging seriously false doctrine, or the nature of films and books that reflect tenets of Scriptural truth, whether intended or not.

Then along came that governor of Alaska as John McCain’s vice-presidential pick. And right away I reverted into a flag-waving, fired-up neo-con artist cliché with the rest of them.

For a few days, I had just a mild case of struggling. No politician is perfect, I told myself, and that includes the former mayor, current governor and pro-life mother of five from the 49th state. I’ve enjoyed the Republican convention and Sarah Palin’s speeches; I find her presence in the campaign inspiring — but I know it’s propaganda. It’s propaganda, I keep telling myself.

Ah, but then I’m reminded that some propaganda is true. This very site is propaganda — most websites are. My own thoughts include propaganda, which I often hope to repeat to myself, such as the Gospel and its effects on my life. All political movements are propaganda.

And that’s all right. With the hope of a glorious and legalism-free life, I am at liberty to enjoy propaganda and make some of my own. Lord willing, I won’t elevate politicians or political causes over the centrality of the Gospel, or the Church’s need to proclaim that Gospel in-depth to believers, and to non-Christians at the same time — whomever the Lord will draw, often with our blessed involvement. But that doesn’t mean other topics are unimportant or off-limits.

Therefore, once again on this site, I can write about political issues from that point of view. Palin and all the discussion and the (oft-manufactured) controversy surrounding her brings such fascinating frontiers to explore. In this case, such exploration can be done specifically regarding the issue of Grace in the Christian faith.

As usual, Liberals don’t get the Christian concept of Moral Law. But even more so, whether knowingly or not, Liberals even less comprehend the existence of God’s Grace toward sinners.

(As I did last week, I've also posted this part-two-of-three column to Speculative Faith today.)



Last week’s column, the first in this three-part series, began with a rebuttal to the pervasive notion among some Christians (both real and merely professing) that Christians are meant to avoid exposure to any type of evil, whether real or represented.

To that we find several objections, backed solidly by Scripture itself. Verses such as Philippians 4:8 never encourage Christ-followers to think about only nice things. The Bible itself often represents rebellion in much of its rot-gut disgustingness. The Gospel narrative itself comprises dark and bloody elements. And lastly, Christians were never taught to avoid the world and all its cultural products by the Apostle Paul, who illustrated the point with both words and by example. One of those examples is the below verse:

“All things are lawful for me,” but not all things are helpful. “All things are lawful for me,” but I will not be enslaved by anything.

1 Corinthians 6:12 (ESV)

Here, Paul quotes what was apparently a Corinthian proverb, and this instance, qualifies it with the Christian view. “All things are lawful,” the Corinthians apparently liked saying, but Paul goes on to say: Yes, but not all is beneficial. What is the point of doing “all things” if they only enslave you? The Apostle doesn’t even use the it’s-just-wrong-or-could-tempt-you-toward-evil argument. Instead, he goes for a more obtuse objection: what would be the benefit of doing something? Will it help you in Christ, or glorify sin?

That’s the argument I hope to make here, hoping to correct the opposite extreme of the first of three views on portrayals of evil. The first was a notion that Christians are commanded to think only about pleasant and Godly things and expose themselves to as few portrayals of evil as possible. But the second view goes something like this:

2. Because we’re saved, there’s nothing wrong with seeing the same movies, listening to the same music, reading the same books as others. After all, they’re just movies, music, books; I’m mature enough to handle these things. Besides, for much too long Christians have segregated themselves and been legalistic, and we’re supposed to be “all things to all people.” How should we evangelize if we don’t understand the culture we live in?

Three weeks since my response at the Dragons in Our Midst blog, the author has kept up his negative contentions about the newest and beyond-blockbuster movie Batman film. According to Bryan Davis, the film was much too dark, encouraging sin and hopelessness, and with muddled moral meanings that — unlike some Christians claim, including myself — in no way reverberate the penal-substitution aspect of Christ's sacrifice.

But after Davis warned he would not publish further comments from me if I continued “labeling” (itself a label, by the way) Davis's views (with terms such as “neo-Pelagian”), apparently the author has seen fit not to approve my most recent response, which I tried to post on Wednesday, Aug. 27.

Naturally, then, I'm re-posting it here, after only adding Davis' original comments that I was addressing.

For now, I am not accusing either you or Truth Seeker [another commentator who disagreed with Davis] of holding to a false gospel. I don't know enough about your beliefs to make such a call. In fact, I haven't accused you of anything, yet you have labeled me as being neo-Pelagian. Enough said on that.

[. . .]

More later ... maybe. I don't want labels thrown around. If you continue doing that, I won't publish your comment.

Bryan, firstly, as for throwing around “labels” in my last contribution — well, I also like to call those “words,” and you yourself used 188 of them in your response. ;-) The label I used in capital letters was neo-Pelagianism, meaning that your views on man’s nature, before and/or after salvation, are remarkably close to that idea.

Theologians both professional and amateur, “good guys” and “bad guys,” have used and continue to use such terms all the time, in order to save space, sort and organize ideas and compare today’s doctrinal views with those of their earlier advocates.

(If you like, I will later use other terms on myself as well, and thus demonstrate their harmless nature and lack of weaponized damage!)

Such terms do not count as an “accusation” per se as you said, but are merely descriptive. And the term I used was in support of my view that your perspective on matters relating to man’s nature are affecting your views on the story elements of films such as The Dark Knight, and apparently other media as well.

To be sure, it is my view that your foundational views are wrong, contrary to common sense and moreover, Biblically untenable; but whether the views are right or wrong — or my ventured connection between the views and your dislike of the film is right or wrong — is another issue.

(Columnist's note: the following essay, the first of three planned parts, was simulposted to Speculative Faith.)

For this week’s column, I’m going to do something many Christian columnists do, but that (from what I remember) I haven’t yet done: quote a Bible passage, and thus sound very profound. In this case, it’s a passage that is so often misunderstood — and even less often, that misunderstanding is not contrasted with the life and practice of the apostle who wrote it.

Here goes:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8 (ESV)

This verse came to mind while I was still making a few incidental rounds online, reading a few blogs on which Christian commentators were critiquing The Dark Knight. Already I’ve offered my views, on this site and elsewhere; and as much as I did appreciate the blockbuster Batman film, somehow I’d like to move on and talk about something else. However, the film and its indeed “dark” elements have engendered a variety of reactions within Christendom. And I can’t help but think Christians’ views of the Gospel of grace — whether right or wrong — are affecting how they see stories like this.

I hope some of you won’t be too annoyed here, because in this and in at least two future columns, I hope to categorize those factions and reactions to this film, and novels and films altogether, into three groups. Then I’ll deal with them one by one, ending with the view held by me and many others.


Virtue versus violence

1. Christians shouldn’t expose themselves to negative things no matter how positive other elements are. Darkness can’t mix with light. To do so would be to compromise, expose ourselves to evil and maybe allow Satan to gain a foothold in our lives.

Those who hold this view — or a derivative; my summary can only go so far — would point to the Philippians passage as proof that Christians should avoid thinking much about evil, looking at images of evil or contemplating the reality of evil. Instead, we’re supposed to concentrate on only the good stuff, and thus, only good guys in our stories.

I hope most Christians don’t have the extreme perspective given, purely by accident, by a character in the “Kids Praise” cassettes of the ‘80s and early ‘90s, featuring Psalty the Singing Songbook. In one of the later tapes, Charity Churchmouse, trying to encourage Psalty’s omnipresent cabal of kids not to get depressed and down, sings the words of Philippians 4:8, along with her interpretation (you wild-at-heart guys, please hang tough through this): “I think about bright yellow daisies and daffodils, petunias, and all kinds of posies!” she proclaims. That’s just reading a silly, false and overly feminized view into the verse, though I’m sure that wasn’t Psalty’s intent.

Even the milder form of such a view would seem based on the incidental perception that Philippians 4:8 has a single word in there, which it does not — the word only. If such a meaning of the total-virtue types were true, it seems the apostle Paul would have put in the term between the words think and about — i.e., “think only about these things.” But he didn’t. Everything in this chapter is for encouragement, not a do-this-only command.

One week shy of a month since its release, The Dark Knight is still bringing in the numbers. According to Box Office Mojo as of yesterday, its total ticket sales in the U.S. are $441.5 million; and that, joined with $263.5 million in international earnings, brings in a global profit of almost $705 million. The film is also still at no. 1, after nearly a month of being released, and it's still stomping newer movies, including Mummy 3 or whatever.

But though many Christ-followers are seeing the film too, and are gripped by it and its dark yet ultimately redemptive message, several see the film as much darker than that — perhaps irredeemably dark.

One such critic, author Bryan Davis, has written several books, including the fantasy Dragons in Our Midst series. And he already had some unorthodox ideas about life, Christianity and everything, anyway. That includes un-Biblical and neo-Pelagian views on human nature without Christ, going so far on his blog (though not in his books; the ones that I've read, anyway) to claim that humankind is not basically sinful — or that the fact that Christians can and still sin, even if they are taking sanctification seriously, is simply untrue.

I've enjoyed some of Bryan's books, and have interacted with him on occasion, most recently here, regarding the very same issue of neo-Pelagianism. However, it's clear he holds to the basic Gospel, in which case, as I also noted, we're definitely colleagues in Christ.

But again, we'll likely need to agree to disagree, after the review of The Dark Knight that he posted Saturday. Along with picking on a few potential plot holes and why-didn't-the-ferry-passengers-just-try-to-disable-the-bomb kinds of questions (um, yeah), he repeats oft-occuring criticisms in Christendom of the film's climax.

'Ware spoilers:

When Dent dies, Batman and Gordon try to cover up this madman by lying about who killed the five police officers whom Dent had killed. Batman and Gordon agreed to say that Batman did it.

What? Are you kidding? Save the reputation of the psychopath and destroy the reputation of the true hero? For what reason? So the Joker wouldn't “win.” Lie to honor the dead false hero, who can't help you anymore, and destroy the true hero who can help? That's absurd. It's stupid. It's wrong.

As I’ve said a few times before in this category, local police reports containing such material as the excerpts below seem even funnier, given the (oft-misspelling-riddled) just-the-facts style in which they’re written.

Surely the officers, though, late at night, can see the humor in the situation, and perhaps even the humorless style into which their descriptions must be compressed. And, of course, perhaps with that in mind, the below excerpts only seem more comical to me, when in the course of my day job I’m finding them hidden in the otherwise dull and routine reports …

(Also, note the insistence of local law enforcement to term a car smashing into a stationary object a “collision,” despite the insistence of snide grammarians and journalism professors nationwide that a real “collision” requires the simultaneous impact of two objects in actual motion.)




The last temptation of ‘Christ’

On July 18, 2008 at 1734HRS I responded to a fight in progress [. . .]

Upon my arrival the Accused, Jesus Hernandez was being held down by a bystander in the roadway [. . .] I separated the subjects and through my investigation, it was discovered that Jesus arrived at the apartment around 10 minutes prior to my arrival. Witnesses on the scene stated that Jesus was trying to fight subjects at the residence and ended up hitting one subject, Ismael Quintero several times. It was then stated that Ismael was able to detain Jesus, prior to my arrival. I arrested Jesus for Disorderly Conduct 2nd Degree for engaging in fighting, violent behavior and causing a panic for the people outside in that area.

(The following is edited from two more NarniaWeb forum posts of mine: the first, my introduction to a new topic called “ASLAN: The Lion’s violent death and viewers’ views,” and the second, my own response, written later and following several replies from other members.)

Recently I’ve been reading yet another Christian book that referenced Aslan’s death in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, yet to me it wasn’t a typical example. The book was Vintage Jesus by Seattle pastor Mark Driscoll and coauthor Gerry Breshears. Its chapter was about Jesus’ brutal and bloody death on the cross, during which He suffered the wrath of God as a substitution for people’s sins.

Here I’m guessing that all of us (I’m quite sure) already know that Aslan is a representative for Christ in the land of Narnia, a “supposal” as C.S. Lewis so clearly clarified of what-if-Jesus-appeared-there-and-acted-there-similarly-to-how-He-acts-here. (If that’s in doubt for you, though, I think half the open threads in the Narnia and Christianity forum at any given time are about that topic!)

Driscoll wrote about how Aslan’s fictitious death in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (the film specifically) is often appreciated much more by “secular” film viewers, than is the real-life death of Christ on the cross that is so often either incidentally ignored or directly dismissed by those who otherwise claim Christianity. For example, in Driscoll’s Seattle church, he often “yells” at people about Christ’s death and the horror and repulsive nature of it all, to the point of one person passing out and another throwing up!

But it’s a tough truth anyway. And as Driscoll notes, it’s interesting how Christ’s sacrifice is downplayed by some Christians, yet Aslan’s death is appreciated by many non-Christians!

Here’s the excerpt, from page 118 of Vintage Jesus.

Curiously, some people in the more left-leaning side of our dysfunctional Christian family are backing away from the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement. Those in the more established liberal churches, along with their emergent offspring, are routinely decrying the concept that Jesus paid the penalty (death) for our sin in our place on the cross. They say it is too gory, too scary, too bloody, too masculine, and too violent. Furthermore, they say that in our tender little world of kindness, such teachings won’t help further the kingdom of meek and mild Jesus.

Meanwhile, non-Christians in the culture seem to have an insatiable appetite for the doctrine. The storyline of masculine sacrifice of one’s life to save others remains one of the most powerfully moving themes in pop culture. It was amazing, for example, to sit in a theater watching The Chronicles of Narnia [LWW] and observe the reaction of a largely non-Christian audience to Aslan. If you remember, Aslan is the Christ figure in the story, or the lion that represents Jesus as “the Lion of the tribe of Judah.” In the story, Aslan willingly and nobly lays down his life as a substitute for those he loves to save them from the rule of evil. The theater became quiet and still at the sacrifice of Aslan—even non-Christians were moved to deep sorrow and tears. Later in the story, when Aslan returns back to life as a victorious king, a heartfelt joy returned to the crowd, and some people even broke out in applause and cheers.

Why? Because deep down, even though we are sinners, we remain God’s image bearers. Like Solomon said, God has set eternity in our hearts and we cannot shake our yearning to be delivered from evil and death by a conquering hero who loves us enough to give us new life through his death.

Heaven — that is, anticipating the New Heavens and New Earth — is one of my favorite topics to discuss, both here and elsewhere. Recently I returned to another NarniaWeb forum discussion about the subject, and found a lengthier post of mine from June 22 that seems self-contained.

So here it is, with only a little editing for formatting and clarity. It starts out in response to another member’s contention that it seems stereotypical to act as though some Christians really do believe Heaven, nor or future, will be a silly and cartoon-esque fantasyland with clouds, harps and rainbows and things. Well, I hadn’t thought of that before! Is it the case that even some Christians really do accept this image as that of Heaven?

col.klink wrote:

I keep hearing Christians and [“Heaven” author] Randy Alcorn complaining about how many people think is a place with lots of clouds were everybody has wings and plays harps. Does anybody actually believe that? Are people really that stupid?

[. . .] I’m disturbed when people say Christians believe that and teach it to children.

I don’t know of anyone who takes that description literally — even “fundamentalist” Christians aren’t nearly that silly. Instead, it’s mostly the idea of being “absorbed into God” or floating around in some kind of super-spiritual, nonmaterial, timeless state of being, that’s often advocated, or at least perceived in the back of Christians’ minds.

Take, for example, the following really-spiritual-sounding-but-un-Biblical statements:

• There will be no time in Heaven.


• In Heaven, everything will be made plain to us and our spiritual eyes will be opened instantly.


• Heaven will be totally unlike anything we’ve ever imagined, but somehow we’ll really like it anyway.

These elements are directly cited in many Christian books about Heaven. Alcorn, for example, cites dozens of excerpts from titles, and then — easily — shows from Scripture how false they are, mostly based on the false presumption that the current Heaven — the place believers go when they die — is the same as the future Heaven; some theologians, trying to be all “spiritual” and not knowing it, just bypass the whole New Earth part.

(Also posted today on Speculative Faith.)

The Dark Knight is gripping. And very deep. Its evil is powerfully and horribly represented, especially on the part of The Joker, whom apparently you cannot even hurt. If he’s tortured or in pain, he just laughs. He lives to “watch the world burn.” He kills without a hint of remorse, and in fact, while he takes a life he merely jokes and (dare I say it) “cuts up.”

In the future, if I’ve ever encountered anyone, whether non-Christian or professing Christian, who claims total evil isn’t real or that people are basically good, I’ll likely refer to The Joker in The Dark Knight. His is an especially insidious evil.

But the film’s representation of goodness is even deeper. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the moral quandary at the end, which — a hint of spoiler may be impossible to avoid here, so I hope you’ve already seen the film — Batman himself resolves by deciding to become, in effect, a penal substitution for one man’s sins. This skewed and backward-heroic act, becoming the villain but really the hero, the total unfairness of it all, is riveting. But it’s a choice that we ultimately know Batman must make for the Joker’s evil plan to be thwarted.

As Plugged In reviewer Paul Asay wrote, “Batman takes [the man’s] sin on his own shoulders, leaving [him], in Gotham’s eyes, pure and spotless and clean. Sound familiar?”

Even as I write that, tears come to my eyes. It’s so unfair. It seems so unjust. But it is “an echo of the sacrifice Christ—utterly innocent, yet humiliated and judged on our behalf—made for us,” Asay continues. That’s what I though I saw then, and what I see now even more clearly: Christ becoming the “villain” to save human rebels, just as Batman needed to be.

But apparently several movie reviewers just aren’t getting it.

(Also posted today to Midwest Christian Outreach's blog, The Crux.)

From what I’ve read here on the MCO site and elsewhere, it seems like it would be interesting for anyone to out-emerge “emergent church” writers in terms of style and substance.

First, I would have a great conversational style, interrupting myself multiple times for pop-culture and movie references to show (perhaps incidentally) how trendy and hip and with-it I am. Secondly, I would be very well-read and adept and making seemingly complex ideas lay-level and understandable. Oh yes, and thirdly, I would subtly undermine concepts of orthodox Christian doctrine and the very idea of claiming to know objective Truth. Instead, I would offer a custom-cooked stew of warmed-up leftovers from old and molded heresies, such as Pelagianism, extreme postmillennialism, liberation theology and Jesus-died-to-set-a-good-example-for-us-ism.

Alongside all that, I would maintain a demeanor of humility, yet suspicion and intolerance only for those who claim to know objective facts about God. They are inevitably egotistical and autocratic, I would argue. And that assumption — that constantly floating specter of legalistic, pulpit-pounding we-have-God-all-figured-out self-appointed doctrine police — would be recognized all throughout the writing.

The emergents’ usual style is fairly similar for pastor Kevin DeYoung’s and sports journalist Ted Kluck’s Why We’re Not Emergent (By Two Guys Who Should Be), which starts with a cool and colorful, grainy-black-authors-in-silhouette-accompanied cover and keeps up the coolness factor even better within.

Regarding the first two “emergent” style characteristics, they’re mostly split: Kluck handles the conversational and cool style; DeYoung mostly debates the divergent views of the emergent mindset with well-read and complex yet lay-level flair.

However, on the third emergent style facet, these “two guys who should be [emergent]” aren’t anything of the sort. DeYoung offers solid doctrines of God’s Word and upholds God’s own understandability. He reveals and refutes the flagrantly illogical ideas of not even being able to know truth. Meanwhile, Kluck intersperses those lengthier, deep-doctrine-magic chapters with his own boots-on-the-ground accounts of delving into emergent culture, such as books by emergent guru Rob Bell, and conversations with his friends who are seemingly being assimilated into that quasi-Christian collective. “Kevin’s chapters are longer and more propositional,” Kluck explains in his own introduction. “If my chapters do nothing more than get you to keep reading Kevin’s, then I will consider it a job well done.”