Evangelical Reformation

No, the “not” is not a misspelling. The “not” I am referring to is the one that reviewers kept trying to put into my manuscript.

I wrote this manuscript for a course I was teaching, and then decided that I might try to get it published. So I thought I would send it to a few reviewers to get feedback. The manuscript included the phrase, “Theology is an exact science.” Two reviewers thought this was a typo, that I really meant, “Theology is not an exact science,” and inserted “not” for me.

I meant what I had written. Theology is an exact science. God is a God of precision in every aspect of His universe, and especially in His Word. It is easy to misunderstand precision as meaning rigid and one-dimensional. I hope to discuss more on the nature of precision in future posts. Nonetheless, God knows precisely what He is doing and calls us to think His thoughts after Him.

The response of the reviewers tells us a lot about the general attitude among Christians today. Most contemporary evangelicals think that someone could not possibly be saying that theology is an exact science.

This has been a prevalent attitude across the past several decades, during which evangelicals have adopted many concepts that would not pass theological scrutiny of scientific precision. We have discussed some of these forced concepts on this blog on a fairly regular basis, e.g. self-esteem, unconditional acceptance, viewing any restriction short of murder as legalistic, etc. As with a part in a car or watch, a small error can lead to much distortion and suffering.

The bad news is that evangelicals are getting self-consciously worse about approaching theology unscientifically. This embracing of the imprecise seems to be one of the hallmarks of the emerging (or emergent) church movement that seems to be gaining steam among evangelicals daily.

No one seems to know exactly what that movement is about. The postmodern orientation that spawned it resists definition. Ask ten postmodernists what postmodernism is and you get eleven different opinions. They like it that way. If you could define it, it wouldn’t be postmodern. The emergent church movement seems equally as illusive.

However, one component that seems clear is its reaction to what it sees as modernist theology, which sought to reduce theology to a precise system. No one can seem to explain (at least in an understandable way) how this emergent approach to theology that resists precision and systematization differs from the relativism we find in secular postmodernism.

Of course, such a system is very comfortable. The absence of systematic truth leaves the individual freedom to believe and to do his own thing.

The fact is that all of the dominant concepts that have influenced our culture (evangelical and otherwise) across the past several decades reflect the existentialism of the 1960’s. If truth is relative, then the individual has the prerogative to establish truth for himself and do his own thing. He becomes the god in his personal universe, asserting the right to feel good about himself and be accepted by others regardless of how he lives.

This is not to say that the emergent church movement does not have some valid emphases. It does. However, as noted above, even a small amount of error can be very destructive. This movement is opening the door to major theological corruption.

The emergent church movement is moving us away from an evangelical reformation, moving us toward rootlessness at a time when we need to be rooted and grounded. Part of the solution is to “un-not” the view that theology is not an exact science.

For a change of pace, let me share a spiritual experience I had in college.

I did my undergraduate studies at West Point. One year, I participated in intramural cross-country. They figured that would be a good sport for me since it required no skill. I just had to start at the starting line and put one foot in front of the other until I reached the finish line. They thought I could handle that. Of course, the skill required to be actually good at the sport is speed, and that usually left me somewhere in the middle of the pack, and sometimes farther back than that.

However, we had some substantially more talented people on the squad that year, which resulted in our winning the championship for the Second Regiment. At that time, the Corps of Cadets consisted of two regiments. This meant that we would run against the First Regiment for the Brigade championship.

The cross-country course ended on a long hill—no doubt the design of some sadistic mind or some staff person who thought that this arrangement would build character. As I approached that hill during the championship race, I was occupying my usual spot around the middle of the pack.

About that time our coach, Tom Finley, appeared along the side of the road and yelled to me that if I would pass the two runners in front of me from the other team, we would win the championship—the awful implication being that if I didn’t, we would lose. How could it be that the brigade championship came to rest on the shoulders of some guy in the middle of the pack? Nonetheless, as I looked at that long hill and those two guys about ten yards ahead of me, and sensed that I was about at the limits of my endurance, that is the situation in which I found myself.

It was at that moment that the Lord brought to mind Isaiah 40:31, “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint.”

As I reflected on that truth, I sensed that I was being energized by a power that was not my own. I found myself catching up to the two men I had to beat. I tried to get past them, but they blocked my path. I discovered that I had enough energy to run around them. As I continued up the hill, I sensed them putting on speed in an attempt to catch up, but that newfound power enabled me to stay ahead of them until I crossed the finish line.

I didn’t set any records that day, or any other day for that matter, but I did learn that God keeps His Word in very literal ways, that it is possible through the power of God even at the end of a tough race on a long hill to run and not be weary. That lesson has been a source of faith and strength on many occasions since.

Sure, Jesus had both. John tells us that He was full of grace and truth. (John 1:14) But it seems that today we must settle for one or the other.

It tends to be a generational thing. The previous generation majored on the truth. This one stresses grace.

The previous generation was (and still is) into Bible teaching, expository preaching, and personal devotions that includes systematic Bible study. They were also into living by the book, especially the rules of the book.

To today’s generation, the latter description may sound pejorative. They would be shocked to hear that the rules of Scripture are not all bad, that holy living may have some merit.

However, the one rule the pervious generation stumbled over was the mandate to display grace. The problem with that one is that it seems to undermine all the rules. After all, if you go around showing grace to rule breakers, how can you keep them in line?

Contemporary evangelicals see through that one. They tag it as judgmental and legalistic. They abhor its rigidity and critical spirit. And they are right. Rules without grace produce a pretty sour existence.

Instead, contemporary evangelicals have opted for grace. Grace is the absolute of this generation. Grace is always the answer.

This orientation reflects itself in its embrace of the concept of unconditional acceptance. It is always right to accept. To do otherwise is to judge. That, obviously (to them), is always wrong.

I talked with a cohabiting couple who claimed to be believers about the unbiblical nature of their lifestyle. Their response was: “How dare you judge us.” Actually, I have had that conversation and received that response more than once.

And if grace trumps the biblical teaching on sex outside of marriage, it will trump about anything. This approach to life captures the slogan adopted by Outback Steakhouse: “No rules, just right.”

This generation avoids being bothered by the rules by avoiding serious Bible study. They may read short devotionals, especially if they feature grace, or read some books, especially if they feature grace. But serious exegesis and theology are nowhere near their scope of interests. One Christian bookstore owner indicated that 80% of his sales consisted of music and tee-shirts.

However, this fixation on grace is not all bad. Giving high priority to grace can be quite nice, especially if the alternative is the judgmental attitude of the past. It is a blessing to enjoy a church atmosphere free of critical spirit, but rather characterized by a kind and friendly ambiance.

However, at some point there is a need for a commitment to righteousness. The absence of this emphasis is destructive to the contemporary evangelical culture.

In our last post, we warned against idealizing the good old days and asserted that evangelical reformation should not be an attempt to go back to the past. Rather, it is an attempt to move beyond the errors of the present by striving toward a biblical worldview and lifestyle.

This matter of grace and truth is another area where we should emulate neither past nor present. The Christian life, and life in general, works only if it embraces both grace and truth and assigns the rightful place to each.

This requires serious Bible study and commitment to the principles of Scripture. That must include the concept of grace. If we, like Jesus, were full of both grace and truth, we might start an evangelical reformation.