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How come some Christians, supposedly enlightened and set free from legalistic constructs, react more strongly to strong words from someone like Dr. Jonathan Sarfati or even Ann Coulter than they would do to those who enjoy strong language or drinks?
How come many Christians want to do better at very good things such as Showing Grace, Caring for the Poor, Being Authentic, Loving Liberals and Avoiding Legalism — but as soon as other Christ-followers come along with a different or harsher (even arguably un-Biblical) zeal or rhetorical style, they’re ready to give up and not show the same grace and caring to them?
I want to do better at tolerating my homosexual friends than Christians have in the past. I’m more enlightened, tolerant and Christlike. But you — ? Oh no, you’re a Legalist or a Mean Christian. I don’t want to be around you; you make us look bad, so get out of my face.
But my response here is not to those who questioned Dr. Sarfati’s seeming contention that because Jesus was sarcastic and even “mean” sometimes, then we’re allowed to be that way in all interactions with evolutionists or compromising Christians. I was among them myself.
Rather, I’m directly rebutting folks such as Nathan Zamprogno, who wrote a reply to me earlier today. He clearly spent a lot time on it, and I want to respond more directly and carefully.
I read all of what Nathan wrote. But I suspect he didn’t quite read all of what I wrote.
While he and I seem to agree on some of my points, he seemed to assume a false either/or dichotomy: that my questioning Sarfati’s style would mean I would also detest all them mean young-earth creationists. But actually, with this issue, I’m a both/and kind of man.
My reasons are threefold. By deciding that the often-harsher rhetoric of apologist activists such as Dr. Jonathan Sarfati is in effect intolerable, worse than putting up with secular sins, Christians are:
1. Sucking up to secularists,
2. Alienating our apologist brothers, and
3. Risking rejection of real truth.
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 at 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.”
On April 30, 2006, a young collegian and decade-long church member, baptized, known to dozens, and frequent participant in missions and teaching positions, prepared to stand before a church congregation and tell them about his only recent redemption by Grace.
First, Pastor David Prince summarized his own forthcoming message and prefaced Moore’s testimony.
Let me give you a little brief background. Jacob’s been in this church many years. There are people here this morning who are here as Christians because Jacob Moore spoke the truth of the Gospel to them. He’s been involved in mission projects; he’s been involved in serving and leading and teaching and all kinds of different ministries in the life of this church.
And yet he’s here today to tell us that though he was rigorously active in the life of this congregation — that he had never genuinely believed the Gospel.
And what I’m overjoyed about today is that his testimony is not that he realized he wasn’t doing this, that or the other, and so he could not be a Christian.
But his testimony is: When I really saw how good the Gospel really is, I knew that I never really trusted in that.
The goodness of the Gospel captures another heart.
And sometimes it’s hard for us to have a category for that; those of us who’ve been around a while, well: if there’s anybody we know who’s a Christian, it’s Jacob Moore! —
Now.
So it’s with great joy that I invite our brother in Christ to come share his heart this morning.
The following is the Jacob's unabridged testimony. I’ve transcribed his entire message, truncating only to account for false starts, ums, rare grammar errors and such. Since then, Jacob has become absolutely certain of his true redemption, and has continued his mission work out of love for Christ and His glory — not to add points to his own scorecard of spirituality.
This has long been a favorite topic of mine, yet far too frequently not actually practiced. But meanwhile, several “‘Aha!’ moments” on the issue have occurred to me while viewing episodes of the television program, The Way of the Master.
I do not own stock in Living Waters Ministries, nor are they by definition on the Exchange. But Ray Comfort, very short guy with charismatic presence but not doctrines, and Kirk Cameron, a younger, taller man (though still Very Short Guy), who apparently used to be quite popular in an old sitcom, do much discussion about Biblical evangelism contrasted with current church methods.
Kirk, in particular, once role-played an unredeemed person who did not fall into the “felt needs” category oft targeted by seeker-friendly churches. An “evangelist” called Kirk on the telephone while Kirk lounged poolside, face obscured by sunglasses. Try Jesus! the evangelist encouraged him. He’ll heal all your hurts and make you happy!
I’m already happy! Kirk assured him with a grin, on the phone.
This made the “evangelist” on the other end very confused.
After all, this isn’t supposed to happen. Kirk’s “rich young ruler,” it seemed, already had tons of money, a great family, no current personal problems whatsoever and not even a “hole inside of him that only God could fill.”
Well, try Jesus anyway, because he’ll make you happier, the “evangelist” insisted. But Kirk’s rich guy, logically, saw no point in it.
Of course, there’s that whole sin-rebellion-against-Law-and-Hell issue, often avoided by some churches because by nature it’s offensive. As Kirk Cameron explains elsewhere:
Within the last 100 years, a new gospel has crept into our churches. It has been designed to not offend you. It has been carefully crafted not to be too “in your face.” It gently suggests that you open your heart to Jesus if your current lifestyle isn't working for you, and try God “when the time is right for you.”
This “seeker centered” and “no offense” approach is no gospel at all; it is “another gospel.” If we continue to define sin as “honest mistakes,” we will continue to fill our churches with “backsliders” and false converts who fail to repent because they don't see the seriousness of their sin. We will give them a cruel false hope, and make them comfortable aboard the “Jesus loves you” pleasure cruiser, singing songs to the Captain, while they blindly speed toward the iceberg of Eternal Justice.
Of course, evangelism is not supposed to be easy; no Evangelism Method is a surefire remedy every time, whether the Christian discusses either Hell or God’s loving nature too much. Questioning moral presuppositions and creation-based evangelism also “misfires” with many people, despite its effectiveness in logically pummeling Evolutionary ideas. And all the other evangelism “tricks” have their caveats.
Perhaps more people are finally giving up on human-based methods and have turned Reformed, as I seem to have done. Because God is indeed sovereign, and yes, “many are called but few are chosen”! — we’re merely the conduits for His call, should He so choose to send it, working through the Holy Spirit.
Not much need, then, to get all sweaty and play the organ through Just One More Time, increasingly desperate to Reach People by ourselves. Instead, we can allow Him to be further glorified in us, and not rely so much on our own human evangelism-sales techniques.
Look who's on Boundless today — Kirk Cameron, one of my all-time favorites — post-television fame, of which I only learned after he had been drawn to Christ and to Ray Comfort's “Way of the Master” ministry. True to form, Kirk offers a Biblical rebuke of watered-down milk “evangelism,” which too often ensures that no one really feels all that guilty for anything, really, or at least not for long:
“Let's face it, we've all made honest mistakes. You're not perfect, I'm not perfect, nobody's perfect. But God doesn't expect you to be perfect, that's why He sent His Perfect Son — so that you could have that relationship with Him again.
”If you will just admit your honest mistakes to God and say 'yes' to Jesus as your Savior, He will come into your heart and you will become a child of God. You will never be alone again, because you'll have Jesus, the ultimate friend riding 'shot-gun,' guiding you through life. That is eternal life — the abundant life Jesus came to give you. Would you like to have that life, that peace, that joy, that friend?
“If you want to know Jesus and find what you've been looking for, then invite Jesus into your heart. He's been waiting for you. He's been waiting for this very moment. Come now and simply accept Him.”
Now you may be thinking, “What's wrong with that?” What's wrong is that it's not the gospel; it's a recipe for disaster. Sin is not an honest mistake and Jesus did not die to make you happy. Sins aren't accidents and God is not a lovesick celestial being, hoping for some nice person to ask Him into their heart so He can make them happy — as though He has a man-shaped hole in His heart that only we can fill.
The first problem with the false modern gospel is a watered-down definition of “sin.” Sin is not an “honest mistake”; it is an honest choice from a sinful heart to do what you know is wrong. Would a good judge describe the crimes of a vicious murderer as “honest mistakes”? While it sounds ridiculous to call murder and rape “honest mistakes,” God sees hatred to be as wicked as murder (1 John 3:15), and lust as deceitful as adultery (Matt 5:28). In God's world, those who lie are liars. If we have stolen, we are thieves. If we have broken God's Law in any way (in word, thought, or deed) we are Lawbreakers.
Might we hear more from Cameron in coming weeks on Boundless?
Meanwhile, on the other page this week, Matt Kaufman discusses the faults of other “divine hug” evangelism methods:
[N]o one was ever won to the faith without being “cut to the heart.” C.S. Lewis, describing the process, noted: “The Christian religion is, in the long run, a thing of unspeakable comfort. But it does not begin in comfort. It begins in the dismay I have been describing, and it is no use at all trying to go on to that comfort without first going through that dismay.”
That's not something we can put on the back burner till we've shown people a nice, affectionate Jesus. And however good our intentions, it does a disservice to Jesus to try. For it's in seeing the magnitude of our sin that we see the magnitude of God's love — the love of Him “Who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all” (Romans 8:32).
One can certainly be more optimistic about the future of Christendom with all of these Christ-centered warriors banding together like this.
On the last morning, May 30, of the New Attitude 2006 singles conference in Louisville, Ky., author and pastor Josh Harris took to the podium for his second message, and laughed at himself.
We need two podiums, he said — one for a short guy like me. A young woman from our church named Janelle recently told me, “‘You are so tiny but God is so big!’” and He’s using you anyway. Harris kept going, to continual laughter: “‘You’re like David, you’re small in stature, but you’re among giants!’”
And by this point, I’m cracking up while listening to her, Harris said. “This is killing me, because I had no idea there were so many synonyms for short. A little shrimpy man for Jesus!”
With that, the shrimpy man announced the formation of New Attitude 2007, same Bat-time, same Bat-channel. “We’re so thrilled that John Piper has agreed to come next year!” he shouted, to tremendous applause. “Finally, his schedule worked out. So finally, Piper, NA ‘07.”
At this point, can you take any more messages containing so much? Harris asked. “There’s definitely been some truth gluttony that’s taking place, as we’re just packing it in, message after message. Some of you are like, If you share one more message with me, I’m just going to — whomph — barf, New Attitude, all over.”
But we have one more to go, Harris said. This message will be a review “of all that we heard — not everything, but to grab most of the significant things and consider together what it means to take this home. And that’s what’s so important about all that we’ve done: it’s meaningless unless we take it home … apply it to our lives, work it into our lives, and review it.”
During the second-to-last session of the four-day New Attitude singles conference in Louisville, Ky., Eric Simmons, singles pastor at Covenant Life Church in Gaithersburg, Md., began drawing the previous days’ imagery together into “the big picture.”
It’s so easy to lapse into drudgery, lumping aspects of the Christian walk right along with menial daily tasks such as taking out the trash, and other menial chores, Simmons said. By doing this, they lose sight of joy. Their life in Christ becomes a list of gottas: I gotta read the Bible, I gotta go to church, etc.
In the book of Colossians, Paul, even while sitting in a prison, writes how he was thrilled that the Gospel was advancing. “The Kingdom of Christ has come!” Simmons exclaimed. It bore fruit in the first century, and it’s bearing fruit now. Paul was thrilled, and so should we be.
“If you’ve been saved by Grace within the past five years, please stand,” Simmons asked.
About a half-dozen people rose. The previous night, the conference leaders, these strongly Grace-based, Reformed, conversion-method-avoiding Christ-followers had given a near-Baptist-style altar call. They made it clear to potential respondents that walking down an aisle won’t save you; repentance and responding to God’s call for redemption will.
(And once upon a time, I almost thought Reformed theology was a natural barrier to evangelism.)
The auditorium burst into applause. How must it feel, I wonder, to be a new Christ-follower in these circumstances? Does it at all seem as if you’re receiving too much attention? Or do the newly redeemed not even care about that, so lost that they are in Grace and community?
Have a global vision, Simmons said. The Kingdom is here, and we get to help further its domain!
Mass inner groans must have resulted after author and speaker Josh Harris announced the formation of seven “breakout sessions” at the New Attitude 2006 conference on May 30.
Why? Because all seven sounded very interesting — and it just didn’t seem fair to have to choose only one.
I myself was torn between a session with Dr. Al Mohler about Biblical worldview and sexual ethics, and another one hosted by Justin Taylor, editor, blogger and former research assistant to John Piper. Actually, speaker Eric Simmons said when introducing Taylor, he was former theological director to John Piper.
“How did you direct John Piper?” Simmons asked.
Taylor responded, “I didn’t.”
Because I heard this exchange, it’s clear I finally opted for Taylor’s message — mostly because I’m less familiar with the “emergent church” movement (ECM) than I am with the Bible’s views on sex. (The latter is somewhat easier to learn, at least in theory. For example, one can easily skip all the don’ts and save time by simply proclaiming the Bible’s dos in simplified summary: wait until marriage, then sure, have at it, and have fun.)
Taylor has edited several books by John Piper, Simmons said, including Reclaiming the Center and Sex and the Supremacy of God. Regarding the latter, Simmons quickly amended for the crowd of singles — “Well, they can read it later.
“He is trying to bring sound doctrine to a level that’s readable to people like us,” Simmons said. And Taylor blessedly evenhanded about the ECM, Simmons added — he’ll outline not only its problems, but the very legitimate questions their leaders have raised about the effectiveness of the American Church in today’s culture.
“My hope today is that Justin would give you some Biblical discernment about certain twisted truths that leaders of the emerging church movement want to get out there,” Simmons said. “I hope people become equipped to represent humble orthodoxy. We’ve only received these truths through God and past generations.”
Josh Harris, author of several books — at first on God-focused relationships and then branching out — began the four-day New Attitude conference in Louisville, Ky. last night. His hour-long, fantastic expository message was based on 2 Timothy, in which Paul, an older pastor about to depart his position and the world altogether, hands instruction to his younger protégé, Timothy.
The message, of course, was geared to young adults. Singles — ending high school, or perhaps already past college.
As you grow older, Harris said, at last you develop a sense of ownership and responsibility. Suddenly, you have an urge actually to vacuum the inside of your car. When buying a home for the first time, you find yourself with intense interest in the workings of the walls, floor, toilet plumbing, etc.
The same is true with careers, as a generation of students becomes members of the workforce: in business, government — and churches. The younger generation inherits the Church from that which came before, and often, Harris said, the younger hopes to innovate, to reinvent, to come up with cooler things than the previous demographic. “Every generation has cooler music,” Harris said — implying that perhaps every generation only thinks it’s cooler.
This passage in Timothy is geared toward those younger inheritors, Harris said. It’s not just for official church ministers. All who follow Christ are affected.
Because at present, the Church in America is wrestling with change, and trying to determine whose approval they will seek, Harris said.
Innovation is good sometimes — “but conversation [about change] goes beyond mere methodology and practice,” he continued. Often the Church will come perilously close to reinventing its actual beliefs as well.
“Whose approval are we going to live for?” Harris asked. Yes, nearly all in the churches will instantly issue the correct answer — “God’s” — “but it’s so easy to get sidetracked,” Harris said.
Far too often, the younger innovators are reacting not to the instructions of the Scripture, but to the errors committed by the past generation of church leaders. Others cross the line between trying to reach the culture and err by striving to impress culture. Thus the Church falls for polar-opposite extremes: it either becomes a slave to trends, or ignores culture altogether by forming its members into subcultures and cliques!
To avoid this, we need the truths of 2 Timothy, Harris said. Our mission is to please God. He is our Audience. We are to live and die for God’s approval.
And from this passage, that involves three main missions.
“Believers are touting [The Da Vinci Code movie] as an 'opportunity for evangelism' and even an incentive to bolster our own faith. Baloney,” says Barbara Nicolosi, founder and director of the Christian screenwriter training program Act One. “This film is based on a book that wears its heresy and blasphemy as a badge of honor, and I intend to stay far away from it.”
I don't much agree with Nicolosi's later admonitions not to “debate the Devil” — a reasoned 1 Peter 3:15-style defense of the faith toward honest skeptics is certainly not on par with the don't-answer-demons'-questions rationale she cites. And yet Nicolosi and others raise a good point about Christians being all too willing to debate anti-Biblical ideas on the Devil's terms. Why do Christians not fight harder to create their own artistic works based on Biblical truth, instead of merely waiting to respond all the time? The Passion of the Christ and certainly The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe was an excellent start, for the film industry, anyway. Let's continue that.
Otherwise, secular observers will — perhaps rightfully — cite the classic line, this time regarding Christians: “Methinks you dost protest too much ...”
Last week, I finally finished the third installment of a three-part series about “Churchianity.” That is, the tendency of some (often smaller) American-Southern churches to uphold their own Churchese jargon, unwritten traditions and antique evangelism methods — supporting them above not only natural, timeless relevancy to the “real world,” but often Scripture itself.
That’s partly because I was waiting for my own experiences with one church’s mutant strain of Antique Evangelism to run their course.
All the better, unfortunately, was to let the mess finish and then write about any lessons learned.
Yet nothing that happened in my situation seemed to yield any insight. I experienced almost exactly what I could have expected from such a church, whose entrenched, government-in-exile-style leadership sought to avoid not only new ideas, but public conflict altogether, at whatever cost.
That meant they instead resorted to “underground” opposition, a drive-by-shooting form of indirect attack. And of course it proved they were too cowardly to let their positions be known and thus open for discussion.
So it wasn’t “disillusioning.” I wasn’t much shocked to find that Churchians could behave so badly.
And yet I’ve found there’s still much to be learned from seeing such disgusting events happen personally.
It’s like a building implosion: you may know some of how it’s done, you may have even seen it happen in TV news clips. But it’s still even more impressive to see it happen in front of you. Perhaps for the first time, the enormity of the event — or problem — truly impacts you.
And yes. A figurative structural implosion is exactly what was happening at this church.
Two months ago, I began writing my three-part series about “Churchianity.” I use that term here to describe the Church’s (at least the American Church’s) tendency to remain steeped in its own methods of doing things, so much that it fails to adapt its approaches where it needs to, to remain timeless and naturally relevant to a changing world.
Part 1 covered how Churchians are often “Speaking in the Language of Churchese,” which most non-Christian people don’t know — or only think they know.
Part 2 focused on The Unwritten Rules of God’s House that are set up by many churches — the often-subtle codes of conduct that church participants must obey. They aren’t found in the Bible, of course, yet “Churchians” often act very dogmatic about these rules, elevating them to the level of Sacrosanct. (And meanwhile, they would likely be among those rightfully critical of the Roman Catholic Church for officially doing the same thing with its extra-Biblical traditions).
Both columns, and sets of problems, find their climax here in Part 3: Antique Evangelism.
Sure, many Megachurches are wrecking true Christendom from within by concentrating on reaching the unredeemed masses. Either they crave popularity and attendance numbers, or sincerely hope to draw them to God — and therefore they openly cater to people’s “felt needs” and entertainment cravings.
But American Churchianity commits the polar-opposite error: that of withdrawing far beyond Christ’s admonition to “be in the world and not of it.” In place of the real world, Churchianity makes its own little world, with its own language and customs. Yet many of them, especially the American Southern churches I’ve mentioned in earlier columns, still hope to seek the unredeemed, who remain Out There.
Such churches thus place much emphasis on preaching the Gospel, often using traditional methods with long heritages. I’m referring mainly to Revival Services and their close cousin, Altar Calls.
I'm sure this doesn't happen to Kirk Cameron every day, but it seems the script of unsaved-sinner-gets-it-immediatley, which I've written before, actually played out when Kirk attempted witnessing to his electrician. He gives a play-by-play account (nice) in Electric evangelism:
I knew I wanted to witness to him so I planned my approach. It started with prayer. “Lord, please prepare this man's heart and help open my mouth boldly as I ought to.” I said, “Good morning. How are you doing?”
“Good. You?”
“Great. Thanks for doing such a great job on my house. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Can I ask you a question? Have you ever gotten shocked doing your job?”
“Oh, yeah...(laugh). A few times. It doesn't feel good!”
[. . .]
“Wow. You have a really dangerous job. Do you pray before you go to work each day? Because maybe you should.”
“Yeah, I do sometimes.”
“Really? That's cool. I was an atheist most of my life, but now I really love God. You know what did it for me? The Ten Commandments.”
“How so?”
“Well, would you consider yourself to be a good person?”
We had a wonderful conversation. I walked him through the Law (as we often demonstrate on our TV program) to show him that according to God's high standards, neither he nor I was a truly “good” person. [. . .]
Great style. Real world. One-on-one. Just like the Way of the Master program — the best Christ-centered, reality-based television series in existence. Ever.
How did Kirk record all this material for later transcription? Perhaps he was wired?
(While discussing a digital art showcase with two students, one of them mentions something about working with some boy on another high school project.)
STUDENT: [common method of expressing astonishment]
MYSELF: Your high school project partner was God?
STUDENT: Oh, well — I just — I don't really say “oh gosh” or anything like that.
MYSELF: No, I just say that to throw people off when they're breaking the Fourth Commandment [sic]. I don't think even “oh gosh” avoids the problem — in your head you're still thinking the real thing.
STUDENT: Yeah. [Says something else about the project partner.]
MYSELF: All right, commandment-breaker, let's keep going with this interview.
Mayhap I shall call this compressed approach “Comfort-Lite.” It's likely I didn't plant a seed, but I may have at least turned up a trowelful of dirt.