Can egalitarians be "gospel-centered" too?

There aren't many topics more controversial within evangelicalism than the issue of women in ministry leadership. The debate between evangelical complementarians (those who believe Scripture prohibits all women from serving as pastors or elders in the local church) and evangelical egalitarians (those who believe Scripture does not prohibit women from serving in those roles) often gets pretty heated. I won't rehash the arguments here since most of us have probably made up our minds, but I do have some questions:

How big is the gulf between evangelical complementarians and evangelical egalitarians? Is it more like a crevasse or a chasm? And how much should we insulate ourselves from those on the other side of the great gender divide?

On some days, the gap seems pretty wide. Those are usually the days when I'm reading blogs, books or articles by anyone associated with The Gospel Coalition, an organization that for all its merits, appears to have elevated complementarianism to a level of non-negotiable orthodoxy to the exclusion of egalitarians like myself. I truly hope this isn't the case because there's a great deal to like about TGC as one of the most intellectually astute, culturally engaged and discipleship-oriented interdenominational networks in all of Western evangelicalism. I'd be willing to wager my ESV Study Bible that if I wasn't an egalitarian, I'd probably be a TGC enthusiast by now. But if my stance on women in ministry excludes me from certain fraternities, I'll learn what I can through my binoculars from across the canyon.

There are other days when the prospects for respectful disagreement and Kingdom-oriented collaboration among complementarians and egalitarians seem within reach. These tend to be the days spent closer to street level, where I see Christians across the evangelical spectrum coming together for parachurch conferences, seminary classes, small group Bible studies and yes, Sunday morning worship services despite their differences over gender roles. In these settings, the question of women in ministry seems more like a secondary theological debate open to more than one interpretation among committed believers. I've even heard of a few egalitarians reading books by Tim Keller, J.I. Packer and Jack Deere as well as complementarians benefiting from the writings of Scot McKnight, Richard Mouw and Dallas Willard.

In case you're wondering, this is not the part where I throw up my hands exclaiming, "Can't we all just get along?" Softening our convictions for the sake of a creating a mushy middle is not the answer. So long as both camps are making a sincere and prayerful effort to follow the teachings of Scripture in good conscience, I would not expect either side to discard their best theological arguments, websites and academic journals as if these differences of interpretation and ministry application did not matter in any significant way. To the contrary, they matter immensely. Just ask a gifted woman who is told she can never teach the Bible to men or a complementarian who is told that all gender distinctions are inherently oppressive and best left behind. The sheer potency of this explosive topic is enough to warrant sober theological reflection and discussion within the body of Christ.

Besides, it's logically impossible for both camps to be correct. God either calls and gifts certain women to serve in positions of pastoral authority or he does not. When a woman experiences a call to ordained ministry along with the preaching and shepherding responsibilities entailed, such a call is either compatible with Scripture or it is not. "Middle ground" approaches that leave matters up to congregational popular vote or veto depending on the "comfort level" of vocal parishioners are entirely unconvincing to me. Whether implicitly or explicitly, every church and denomination will eventually need to take some kind of stand, all the while remaining careful neither to prohibit what Scripture affirms nor affirm what Scripture prohibits.

Interestingly enough, I was originally a complementarian during my undergrad years at Wheaton. But after significant time wrestling with the "problem passages" and reviewing the arguments of both sides in the years since, I've decided to plant my flag with the other guys (and gals). Not that this switch has added much convenience to my journey of preparation for vocational ministry in evangelical contexts. If I was convinced the apostle Paul's prohibition of women teaching/leading men in 1 Timothy 2 was meant to be universal, I'd find a vast array of ministry resources and church planting networks eager to equip me from a complementarian perspective. It would also increase the pool of potential mentors, churches and denominations consistent with my theological convictions which are mostly of the old-school evangelical variety (not including my 'charismatic' understanding of the Holy Spirit which is another can of worms).

On a practical level, I've discovered this whole egalitarian thing to be a downright dealbreaker in many circles, keeping me (and my wife) at arm's length from an array of otherwise palatable opportunities for ministry networking and training. It's painful to admit this, but complementarians are increasingly in the middle of the action these days when it comes to a putting forward a theologically robust integration of church planting and discipleship resources for local congregations. While the real world doesn't always mirror what's happening online, I foresee TGC embodying more of a long-term trajectory than a short-lived trend. Living in Hawaii, it can take a while for the rumblings of Christendom (i.e. mainline decline or complementarian resurgence) to reach our shores, but it's only a matter of time before the well-equipped contingent of "gospel-centered" churches makes its mark (or should I say 9 Marks) on the islands' evangelical landscape.

Last year, I posed some questions looking at why one’s persuasion on gender roles carries far more weight in the 'Restless Reformed' movement than other secondary issues open to evangelical disagreement including one's view of baptism, the Lord's Supper, charismatic gifts, eschatology, church polity or young earth/old earth creationism. The line of reasoning typically offered by my TGC brothers tends to rely on slippery slope scenarios. The basic gist goes like this: "If we allow egalitarians into our movement (which would invariably include the voices of women pastors who are unfit for spiritual leadership), the stage would be set for additional theological compromises to inevitably follow." I'll grant that potential for doctrinal drift always exists, but this can work both ways. Are egalitarians more likely than complementarians to slip into certain forms of cultural accommodation including moral relativism, universalism and the denial of biblical authority? Yes, but couldn't it also be said that complementarians have been more susceptible to other vices in the direction of fundamentalist separatism, sexism and self-righteous legalism?

When terms like "gospel-centered" and "gospel-driven" are only used in the context of describing complementarian ecclesiology, it creates the perception that one does not have the Gospel right if one is not a complementarian. When egalitarians are excluded from any reference to participation in "gospel-centered ministry," the implicit message is clear: We will not recognize or affirm your commitment to the Gospel unless you hold to complementarian theology. Conversely, egalitarians (however orthodox) are disqualified from being trusted as ministry partners in the task of proclaiming the true Gospel. I could be wrong, but this appears to be more than just a case of like-minded parachurch organizations taking a strong stance on gender roles. It feels more like an attempt to marginalize egalitarians outside the boundaries of orthodoxy.

I can hear some of my egalitarian friends saying, “Relax Dan, you can’t expect those restless reformed guys to touch anything egalitarian with a ten-foot pole. If they want to isolate themselves as the only true bearers of the Gospel, so be it.” My response would be that the Gospel Coalition represents anything but an irrelevant, shrinking movement. Far beyond a loose affiliation among big-name pastors like Piper, Keller and Driscoll, the vibrant network of complementarian Calvinists continues to broaden and deepen through an effective strategy of vigorous church planting, publishing and of course, online resources up the wazoo. They are not so much isolating themselves as they are isolating us. Again, I'd love to be wrong because some of my favorite pastor-authors include guys like Tim Keller and Sam Storms, godly men who have been incredible role models in the development of my own approach to ministry. It is precisely because my fellow egalitarians have so much to gain from their wisdom that an evangelical schism over the gender debate would hurt both sides.

In essence, here's what I'd like to ask my brethren over at The Gospel Coalition/Desiring God/9 Marks/Ligonier/Acts 29/Sovereign Grace/White Horse Inn/T4G:

• To what extent is complementarianism more than just a prominent feature of the New Calvinist movement, but essential to the Gospel itself?
• Is adherence to complementarian theology a prerequisite for becoming "gospel-centered" or "gospel-driven?"
• As someone who affirms the Nicene Creed, salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone, the supreme authority/infallibility of Scripture, original sin, the existence of hell, Christ's sinless life, his penal substitutionary atonement on our our behalf, his propitiation of God's wrath, his bodily resurrection and his second coming but also holds to an evangelical egalitarian perspective on women in ministry leadership, have I failed to believe the Gospel?
• In short, can egalitarians be gospel-centered too?

Since it is my conviction that the boundaries of historic Christian orthodoxy can (and must) include evangelicals of both the complementarian and egalitarian variety, here's what I hope we could say to one another:

"With all due respect for your sincere desire to follow Jesus and adhere faithfully to the teachings of Scripture, I disagree with your position on this important issue. Just as I would love for you change your mind on the question of women in ministry, I'm sure you feel the same way about my stance. But because our shared belief in the Gospel is more important than our differences on secondary matters, I'm hopeful we can respectfully disagree as brothers/sisters in Christ while encouraging each other to live joyfully and faithfully in light of the good news."

But if this sounds too much like key lime pie in the stratosphere, maybe we could just shout it across the canyon once in a while.

UPDATE: Scot McKnight has begun a related discussion over on his Jesus Creed blog.

Book Review: Evolving in Monkey Town

Rachel Held Evans and I share a lot in common. We’re both 29-year-olds who were raised in evangelical homes and attended small Christian colleges from 1999 to 2003. We’ve both experienced our fair share of disillusionment with various aspects of American evangelicalism and have lived to blog about it. Topping off the similarities, her husband’s name is Dan while my wife Rebecca sometimes gets called ‘Rachel’ by mistake. So it comes as no surprise that I enjoyed reading my advance copy of Rachel’s winsome new book, Evolving in Monkey Town: How a Girl Who Knew All the Answers Learned to Ask the Questions (Zondervan).

Growing up in Dayton, Tennessee (site of the famous Scopes Monkey Trial of 1925 which debated the teaching of evolution in public schools) as the overachieving daughter of a theology professor, Rachel was a Sunday School superkid raised in a Bible Belt subculture of zealous apologetics. Though adept at defending her Christian worldview against doubters and skeptics during her high school and early college years, everything changed when she began experiencing doubts of her own. The most potent ones involved questions concerning (you guessed it) why God would allow horrific human suffering or send millions of non-Christians to eternal torment in hell. Frustrated with the simplistic answers she knew so well, Rachel questioned her dad one Friday afternoon describing the quandary this way:

It’s like God runs some kind of universal sweepstakes with humanity in which all of our names get thrown into a big hat at the beginning of time… Some of us are randomly selected for famine, war, disease, and paganism, while others end up with fifteen-thousand-square-foot houses, expensive Christian educations, and Double Stuf Oreos. It’s a cosmic lottery, luck of the draw. (p. 99)

If such irreverent theological sniping makes you uncomfortable, you might have hard time with this book- which is precisely the point. Undergoing a process to re-evaluate all your previously unshakable beliefs from scratch is no fun, especially in the foothills of Southern Appalachia. But if you’ve ever felt conflicted about similar questions, you will be refreshed by Rachel’s intellectual honesty and courage in facing her fears. Far from drowning in a sea of skepticism, her faith re-surfaces more vibrant than ever. While critics might contend that Rachel is promoting doubt to the detriment of faith, this is not the case:

I would argue that healthy doubt (questioning one's beliefs) is perhaps the best defense against unhealthy doubt (questioning God). When we know how to make a distinction between our ideas about God and God himself, our faith remains safe when one of those ideas is seriously challenged. (p. 220)

As it turns out, Rachel's quest has not really been about finding good answers to life's toughest questions after all. If answers were all she wanted, she clearly demonstrates an intellect and theological acumen capable of researching them. This is not to say there aren't any good answers worth seeking on such important matters. If anything, Rachel's writing indicates she is already more familiar with apologetics than most people in our generation. And though she could articulate the correct evangelical responses with flair, she needed something different, namely, the simple permission and empathy of hearing someone say, "You know, I'm not sure what to make of that either." (p. 190)

Evolving in Monkey Town is a thoughtfully entertaining and engaging read packed with adventurous questions from start to finish. While I didn't always agree with the way she nuanced the nature of the atonement, biblical interpretation or the ever-controversial tension between divine sovereignty and human responsibility, I have tremendous respect for Rachel's perspective, particularly on the important subjects of doubt and spiritual questioning. Based on the interactions we've shared via her excellent blog, I've been impressed by her uniquely provocative yet welcoming approach to theological dialogue. An attentive learner and genuine listener, she is one of the most gracious and authentic people I've encountered in the blogosphere. Evangelicals of all ages would be wise to give her survival story a good hard listen.

Our Son, God's Child

Just over a week after his first birthday (May 10), we found out that our second son Vincent has a cancerous tumor in his liver. While there's more than enough bad news to call this a full blown family crisis, there's not quite enough to rule out the possibility of a full recovery. The scenarios are seemingly infinite at this point, not unlike the range of emotions that accompany this sort of thing. If fear and anxiety are like mosquitoes, we're navigating a swamp full of standing water.

And yet, there is light flickering in the darkness. I had no idea it was possible to feel so shocked, devastated, afraid, thankful, hopeful and at peace- all in the same moment. I'm certain it has something to do with the multitude of friends and loved ones praying for us around the globe. I suspect it also has something to do with my soul being anchored in the resurrection power of a Messiah familiar with suffering, a risen King who is before all things and in Whom all things hold together (Col 1:17).

In the midst of preparing for the worst, hoping for the best and praying for a miracle, I've found comfort from an unlikely source: theology. Yup, it turns out that theology, that supposedly dry and dusty set of doctrinal propositions, makes all the difference in the world when a crisis hits. Whether you're aware of it or not, your concept of God will affect how you pray in the midst of chaos and suffering. What kind of triune Being is He? Is the Father ultimately near or detached from those in pain? Can the Holy Spirit be called upon to work miraculous healings in the 21st century or not? Will Jesus really come back someday to vanquish all injustice and disease? Do we live with the recognition that His blood on the cross has inaugurated a reign of peace in which He is reconciling all things to Himself- including things like liver cancer?

John Stott put it this way: "I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross... In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it?"

May the supernatural, unfailing, parental love of God for Vincent be sufficient for all of us who long to see him healed.

NOTE: Please visit Vincent's CaringBrige website for the most recent updates on how his treatment is going as well as prayer requests, photos and much much more!

Emotional Men & Rational Women

Here's something I recently read in Jim and Sarah Sumner's book, Just How Married Do You Want to Be? (IVP, 2008):

Christians have to be careful not to buy into the paradigms of the world. It's the world that says that men, being masculine, are rational and women, being feminine, are emotional. The Bible doesn't say that at all. It flies in the face of Scripture to say that men are not emotional- because that would make them incapable of rejoicing in the Lord or mimicking Christ's anger or grieving about sin with the Holy Spirit. It likewise flies in the face of Scripture to say that women are not rational- because that would make them incapable of following the commandments to renew their minds and meditate on Scripture and take every thought captive to Christ. According to the Bible, men and women alike are created in the image of God (Genesis 1:26-27); thus both are emotional and rational.

Wheaton's Next President: The Right Choice?

The evangelical blogosphere is abuzz regarding the selection of Philip Ryken as the next president of Wheaton College once Duane Litfin retires this year. Given Dr. Ryken's theological background as a complementarian Calvinist minister in the PCA (a pretty conservative denomination even by evangelical standards), it will be interesting to observe the reaction from evangelicals who do not happen to be part of the Gospel Coalition/Restless Reformed movement.

As a Wheaton alum, I'm still processing this news for myself, but in the meantime, I'd be interested to hear from either:

A) Any complementarian Calvinists who are NOT excited about Dr. Ryken's selection

or

B) Any egalitarian non-Calvinists or "evangelical moderates" who are.

No matter how this plays out, my prayer is that it will all be for Christ and his Kingdom.

UPDATE: After learning a lot more about Dr. Ryken in recent weeks; as well as the desired qualifications and lengthy selection process undertaken by the College over the past 2 years, I am now supportive of Wheaton's choice. Denominational particulars aside, Dr. Ryken's record of scholarship, organizational leadership ability and intense devotion to Christ are undeniable.

Random (theology) Question of the Week

Does anyone know R.T. Kendall's position on women in ministry? I can't seem to find it anywhere.

Am I a liberal or a conservative?

In my little "about me" blurb, I describe myself as a "progressive evangelical Christian." This can be confusing since the word progressive is often taken to mean liberal, whereas evangelical is often used synonymously with conservative. Defining these terms gets tricky even before we grant that someone can be theologically liberal but politically conservative or theologically conservative but politically more liberal. So instead of opening a semantic can of worms, perhaps the following indicators will help to place me somewhere on the theological-political landscape. I report, you decide.

20 REASONS TO CALL ME A "LIBERAL"

1. The thought of living in the Bible Belt freaks me out.

2. I am not always proud to be an American.

3. I tend to vote for Democrats in state and national elections.

4. I enjoy listening to NPR on a regular basis.

5. I believe government agencies and publicly funded non-profit organizations have a significant role to play in preventing and alleviating poverty.

6. I believe human-induced climate change is not only real, but will have significant impacts if not mitigated by reducing emissions, hitting the poor the hardest.

7. I believe our nation urgently needs comprehensive reform in both health care and immigration policy.

8. I am morally opposed to preemptive war.

9. I am against the use of state-sponsored torture (including waterboarding).

10. I am opposed to capital punishment.

11. I believe there is great value in inter-religious dialogue and ecumenical collaboration for the common good.

12. When it comes to Christian political punditry, I'm more sympathetic to the Jim & Tony of the evangelical left (Wallis & Campolo) than the Jim & Tony of the evangelical right (Dobson & Perkins).

13. I believe the earth is (a lot) more than 10,000 years old.

14. I'm more likely to purchase books published by InterVarsity Press than Crossway.

15. I believe Scripture teaches that God calls and gifts women to serve at every level of church ministry leadership.

16. On the international front, I believe issues such as human trafficking, clean water/sanitation, food security, fair trade and debt cancellation deserve our attention.

17. I support the UN's Millennium Development Goals, which include halving extreme poverty and global disease by the year 2015.

18. I believe gays and lesbians should be allowed to serve openly in the U.S. military.

19. I believe gays and lesbians should be legally protected against hate crimes committed on the basis of their sexual orientation.

20. On gun control, organized labor, energy independence and tax policy, my views tend to be left of center.

20 REASONS TO CALL ME A "CONSERVATIVE"

1. The thought of sending my kids to public school freaks me out.

2. I consider it a blessing and a privilege to be an American citizen.

3. I believe it's a good idea to abstain from sex outside of marriage (teenagers and grown-ups alike).

4. I am very concerned about the effects of Hollywood, MTV and video games on children.

5. I am opposed to physician-assisted suicide.

6. I am opposed to the legalization of marijuana use.

7. I am opposed to embryonic stem-cell research.

8. Like all forms of domestic violence, I believe abortion is a tragic and immoral.

9. I believe there really is such a thing as absolute Truth with a capital 'T.'

10. I do not believe all religions are different paths to the same destination.

11. I believe Jesus of Nazareth was the Christ, God in the flesh and is the only Name by which we can be saved. Through His crucifixion, death and bodily resurrection, He has saved us by grace to reconcile us to God (which is very good news for sinners like me).

12. I believe the Bible, God's inspired Word, is authoritative and without error in all that it teaches (when interpreted correctly).

13. I believe Scripture teaches that marriage is a lifelong, monogamous covenant between a man and a woman.

14. I believe Heaven and Hell really exist.

15. I believe Satan (the Devil) really exists.

16. I believe prayer really does makes a difference.

17. I wholeheartedly believe in miraculous gifts such as divine healing, prophecy, words of knowledge, speaking in tongues and deliverance from evil spirits.

18. I affirm the often-trivialized concepts of "spiritual warfare," "attacks of the enemy," "prayer warriors" and "hedges of protection."

19. I have been known to lift my hands and act "shallow and emotional" while singing modern praise and worship choruses.

20. I'd rather spend money on a David Crowder concert than attend a free lecture by Phyllis Tickle (true story). Christian rock trumps mainline Protestant intellectualism once again.

Blogrolls and Pigeon Holes

"My momma always said you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes. Where they're going. Where they've been. I've worn lots of shoes..." - Forrest Gump

Let's be honest. What's the first thing you look for when visiting a new blog? Do you head straight for the main content by reading the latest post in its entirety? Or is it more important to 'size up' the author from his/her bio, affiliations, blogroll and other bell-whistle peripheries? If you're anything like me, the initial moments at an unfamiliar blog are focused on gathering enough data to make a theological/political diagnosis: conservative, liberal, moderate, libertarian, evangelical, mainline, ecumenical, academic, pastoral, missional, traditional, postmodern, Reformed, charismatic, emerging, egalitarian, complementarian etc.

This process of instinctive categorization smacks of superficial stereotyping, but is it really much different from scanning dust jacket bios at the bookstore or channel-surfing with a remote? Do snap judgments represent the height of consumeristic self-absorption or a practical necessity in the age of information? Who has the time to judge a book by anything besides its (back) cover? If Forrest Gump's human taxonomy theorem applies to the internet, you can tell a lot about a person these days by their Facebook profile, Amazon wishlist or bookmarked sites in their web browser. Even a seemingly innocuous blogroll can be a window into one's soul.

So if you're as interested in labeling me as I am in labeling you, here are some quick facts about the authors of my top 20 church and theology blogs:

- All of them are evangelical Protestants of one stripe or another.

- At least 13 have a graduate degree in theology or Biblical studies.
- At least 11 are egalitarians.
- At least 9 are under age 40.
- At least 7 are women or minorities.
- At least 7 released a new book in 2009.
- At least 6 are current pastors or church planters.
- At least 6 live in the Chicago area.
- At least 4 live on the West Coast.
- At least 4 have earned a Ph.d.
- At least 4 are complementarians.
- At least 4 are affiliated with Christianity Today in some way.
- At least 4 are affiliated with the Evangelical Covenant Church.
- At least 3 are Southern Baptists.
- At least 3 are TULIP Calvinists.
- At least 3 could be described as part of the emerging movement.
- As least 3 were born outside the United States.
- At least 2 are editors at book publishing houses.
- At least 2 are Presbyterians.
- At least 1 is Pentecostal.
- At least 1 is Anglican.

Have I sufficiently tipped my hand? Should I begin measuring the drapes for my pigeon hole? What does my blogroll tell you about me? What does your blogroll say about you?

Manhattan Declaration: Where are the moderates?

To paraphrase Mark Twain, reports of the Religious Right's demise have been greatly exaggerated. Energized by the backdrop of President Obama's first year in office, an ecumenical but familiar group of influential conservative Christians (including prominent Catholic, Anglican, Orthodox and Evangelical leaders) have reasserted the primacy of abortion, gay marriage and religious liberty as the three foremost political issues that matter above all others.

If you haven't yet read The Manhattan Declaration: A Call of Christian Conscience, here's the full text and list of 145+ original signatories, which includes names like Chuck Colson, James Dobson, Tony Perkins and Al Mohler. This excerpt provides the basic gist:

Because we honor justice and the common good, we will not comply with any edict that purports to compel our institutions to participate in abortions, embryo-destructive research, assisted suicide and euthanasia, or any other anti-life act; nor will we bend to any rule purporting to force us to bless immoral sexual partnerships, treat them as marriages or the equivalent, or refrain from proclaiming the truth, as we know it, about morality and immorality and marriage and the family.

I suspect where one stands on the Manhattan Declaration likely hinges on how one would answer the question: Should abortion, gay marriage and religious freedom be placed at the very top of a "hierarchy of issues" (to use drafting committee member Chuck Colson's term) when it comes to public policy concerns facing Christians?

So far, the Manhattan Declaration has received mixed reviews. Bloggers over at First Things can barely contain their enthusiasm for it, while others like Dan Gilgoff have said it "reads like a throwback to the culture wars of the 2004 election." Regent College theology professor John Stackhouse calls it "strangely useless" while Jonathan Merritt, founder of the Southern Baptist Environment and Climate Initiative, says the statement is unlikely to "sway a new generation of Christian leaders who take a broader view of cultural issues facing us today."The document's backers point to the diverse range of theological perspectives represented by its signatories, not everyone in the evangelical world who typically contributes to these types of ecumenical public policy collaboratives has endorsed the Manhattan Declaration. A handful of names like Ron Sider, Cornelius Plantinga, David Neff and Richard Mouw notwithstanding, there doesn't seem to be much support from evangelical "moderates" who were instrumental in drafting last year's Evangelical Manifesto and 2004's For the Health of the Nation: An Evangelical Call to Civic Responsibility, both of which called for a broadened platform including issues like creation care, poverty alleviation, racial reconciliation, human rights and peacemaking. Those who have endorsed both the Manhattan Declaration and the Evangelical Manifesto (Timothy George and Leith Anderson for example) appear to be the exception.

So where are all the moderates?

Noticeably absent from The Manhattan Declaration's signatories are respected scholars like David Gushee, Jim Skillen, Mark Noll, Nicholas Wolterstorff, Stephen Monsma, J.P. Moreland, Os Guinness, Dallas Willard and Darrell Bock, not to mention other influential evangelical voices like Rick Warren, Joel Hunter, Bill Hybels, Gary Haugen and Rich Stearns. This doesn't mean Manhattan isn't an amazing feat of coalition-building across Evangelical-Catholic lines (Neuhaus would be proud), but such a narrow range of policy emphases might explain why many, including yours truly, are reluctant to sign on.

It looks like the culture wars are back, folks. Man your battle stations.

High Church vs. Low Church

Andy Rowell's post over at Out of Ur describes how 'high church' and 'low church' streams of the Christians faith have much to learn from each other. Perhaps a few working definitions are in order:

High Church: Rowell describes these as "liturgical" churches who "emphasize historical and global continuity in their worship services," including Catholic, Episcopal and Lutheran churches. According to Rowell, "Liturgical clergy see their role as being a faithful steward of historic Christianity. This consists especially of serving the Lord’s Supper and preaching."

Low Church: Rowell describes these as the "free" churches who are characterized by "the relative autonomy of individual congregations," including Baptist, Pentecostal and non-denominational churches. According to Rowell, "Free church pastors tend to see their role as equipping their congregations for evangelism and social justice."

(In case you're wondering, Methodists and Presbyterians fall somewhere in between.)

Personally, my own Christian journey has been shaped by an ecumenical denominational background predominately in the "low church" evangelical world, but I'm also very much drawn to the idea of weekly Sacraments, liturgy, sacred spaces and contemplative practices found in the high-church tradition. Every time I visit a liturgical church, I'm stuck by how thoughtful and intentional everything is.

Sometimes I wonder how my faith would be different if I had been raised on creeds and catechisms instead of DC Talk and Breakaway magazine. While I would love to see more liturgy, written prayers and reverence for the Great Tradition incorporated into our local church's worship gatherings, much of it is still a second language to me.

It's as if I've become a long-distance admirer of the sport of cricket from watching it on TV, but at the end of the day my natural sport is baseball. I may be intrigued by the oval-shaped field, wickets and bowlers (instead of a diamond, home plate and pitchers), but I'm in no way qualified to teach the fundamentals of a game for which I barely understand the rules.

Perhaps my low church, pragmatic evangelical DNA is to blame for my desire to see some sort of convergence that blends the best of both worlds.

Fantasy Football Affections

"You stir us up to take delight in your praise; for you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you." - Augustine of Hippo

Fantasy football has become a cultural phenomenon in this country. Recent estimates suggest around 27 million Americans play fantasy sports in an industry that has grown over 20 percent in each of the last four years. As someone who has played every fantasy NFL season since I was a freshman in college 10 years ago, I guess you could say I'm a poster child for its appeal. From my perspective, online fantasy sports (when played in moderation of course) provide a more efficient and flexible way to remain engaged as a sports fan without having to watch hours of live games on TV that inevitably eat into one's precious weekend and family time. There may be other ways to rationalize this peculiar behavior, but that's the best excuse I've come up with so far. What a time-saver!

This fantasy football season (which is just about half-over) my 2 teams are heading in opposite directions. In our league of church friends, my squad known as Flea Flicker is currently in first place (5-1), but in another group composed primarily of Wheaton alumni, my languishing Y.A. Tittlers are 9th out of 10 teams (2-4). It's essentially an imaginary roller-coaster with (virtually) no bearing on reality.

When I first began gathering names for our annual church league a couple months ago, it wasn't hard to find other fans who check scores online or in Monday morning's paper. But I was surprised when one of my friends, a devout football enthusiast who follows the NFL very closely, told me he didn't want to join. When I tried to reassure him that managing one's team can take as little as 5 minutes per week and does not involve any money, my friend still declined. I mentioned that he already knew most of other guys in our league and would probably fare well against the casual competition, but he still wouldn't bite. He told me he'd rather abstain than worry about constantly tweaking his make-believe collection of real-life athletes. When he insisted he'd be utterly consumed by it if he joined, I finally backed off.

Looking back on the conversation, I respect my friend's courage and self-awareness in declining my invitation, an offer that must have been tempting for a well-informed football fan like himself. It's not that I believe fantasy sports are an inherently sinful cultural artifact any more than Facebook, Twitter or even the internet itself. But as 21st century Christians living in a society saturated by personalized technology and customized entertainment, we are inundated with products and services relentlessly vying for our time, attention and ultimately our affections.

In a recent interview with Leadership Journal's Skye Jethani, Reformed pastor Matt Chandler describes the sanctification process beginning with two questions:

"What stirs your affections for Jesus Christ? And what robs you of those affections? Many of the things that stifle growth are morally neutral. They’re not bad things. Facebook is not bad. Television and movies are not bad. I enjoy TV, but it doesn’t take long for me to begin to find humorous on TV what the Lord finds heartbreaking.

"The same goes for following sports. It’s not wrong, but if I start watching sports, I begin to care too much. I get stupid. If 19-year-old boys are ruining your day because of what they do with a ball, that’s a problem. These things rob my affections for Christ. I want to fill my life with things that stir my affections for him."

For some, playing frivolous fantasy sports, maintaining a blog or purchasing an iPhone will not consume us or rob our affections for Christ. For others like my spiritually mindful friend, it might. In either case, followers of Jesus must continually remain aware of the ways in which our affections and allegiances can be easily diverted by technological novelties as innocuous as imaginary football.

On the other hand, I don't believe fantasy football can be categorically dismissed as beyond redemption or antithetical to the Christian life. When done in the context of real-world friendships, it can be a healthy form of "male bonding" rather than an anti-social pursuit of superficial bragging rights or anonymous mind-numbing entertainment. This might be a stretch, but I'd like to suggest the joy of recreational competition, strategy and victory can even stir our affections for the One who satisfies like no other. On the subject of earthly pleasures, C.S. Lewis offered a balanced approach:

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for the something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage." (emphasis mine)

So yes, let us joyfully and soberly compete for the fading glory of fantasy football trophies. Let us enjoy the suspense and unpredictability of being sports fans. Let us marvel at comeback victories and rare upsets by the underdog. But let us not confuse these God-given blessings with the "real thing" who is Christ himself. He alone is our solid Rock in whom all things hold together. He alone is the true Bread and Living Water who satisfies our restless souls.

May our affections be stirred.

Further Questions on Torture and Abortion

As a follow-up to my previous post on torture and abortion, here are some of my questions for those who oppose one but defend the other.

Questions for those who are anti-abortion but believe torture can be justified:

1. If abortion is immoral (in part) because the procedure deliberately inflicts severe pain on a pre-born human being, why is it permissible to deliberately inflict incredible physical and psychological pain on a prisoner while torturing him or her?

2. If abortion is truly "worse than slavery" (an outlawed form of torture) as many pro-lifers say, should women who obtain an abortion be treated as criminals on par with someone who is found guilty of owning slaves?

3. If torture can be justified for pragmatic, utilitarian reasons (i.e. to prevent terrorism and save lives), what's wrong with the pragmatic, utilitarian reasons for abortion (i.e. to prevent poverty and unwanted pregnancy)?

Questions for those who are pro-choice but anti-torture:

1. If torture is immoral (in part) because it inflicts cruel, degrading and traumatic pain on a human being, why is abortion not also immoral, particularly in cases where the pre-born child has developed to a stage where trauma and pain can be experienced?

2. Why should prisoners of war have a greater right to life and dignity than pre-born children? Is one more human than the other?

3. If abortion is a matter of personal choice, why shouldn't torture be a matter of government discretion on a case-by-case basis?

Torture, abortion, and partisan ethics

I believe that as followers of Jesus, Christians must hold to a consistent ethic of human life. Scripture teaches that all human beings have been created in God's image (Genesis 1:27) and therefore, every person, whether young or old, rich or poor, strong or weak, saint or sinner, bears the imprint of the Creator. Human rights and dignity, yours and mine, are ultimately derived from the One who loves us "with an everlasting love" (Jeremiah 31:3). Consequently, people are not cosmic accidents or disposable commodities to be bought and sold, used and discarded. If we indeed believe that life is immeasurably precious to the God who created it, we have a responsibility to be extremely careful in situations involving the choice to purposefully harm, wound or terminate another person's life.

Interestingly enough, the convoluted realm of American politics reveals a peculiar dynamic where opposing sides in the culture wars profoundly disagree on the question of which lives should be defended as sacred and which ones are more disposable. Conservatives are generally opposed to abortion, euthanasia, physician-assisted suicide and genetic engineering, but are more likely to support the use of preemptive military force, capital punishment and torture, including water-boarding (see diagram at right) and other "enhanced interrogation techniques." The liberal end of the spectrum often opposes capital punishment, war and torture, but is more likely to defend abortion, euthanasia and physician-assisted suicide as matters of human rights. Is it just me or does anyone else find both sides to be inconsistent?

Two of the most contentions issues concerning the sanctity of human life in recent years have been abortion and torture. A Pew Research poll conducted earlier this year revealed that 62% of evangelical Protestants (my own faith tradition) believe "the use of torture against suspected terrorists to gain important information" is often or sometimes justified, whereas only 16% say it's never justified. It's especially disturbing that evangelicals are more likely to support torture than any other religious group in America including Catholics, mainline Protestants and those without any religious affiliation. The poll also found that those who attend religious services at least once a week are much more likely to support torture than those who seldom or never attend religious services. This is lamentable at best and shameful at worst.

When it comes to abortion, the statistics are flip-flopped. According to a separate Pew Research poll, evangelical Protestants remain the group most adamantly opposed to abortion, with well over 60% saying the procedure should be illegal in most or all cases. It's not difficult to find conservative religious organizations lobbying against abortion or liberal groups lobbying for the end of torture on religious grounds, but it's rare to find those who believe both practices are immoral. Opponents of abortion claim that it harms a sacred life and violates the dignity of another human being, a line of reasoning also used by those who oppose torture. Those who are "pro-life" seem the most likely to defend torture, but those against torture seem the most likely to defend abortion. How can this be?

The problem with our culture war categories of right vs. left is that everyone gets divided into two flawed packages of partisan platforms from which we assume the "other" side cannot possibly be correct about anything. We've confused Christian ethics with partisan ethics, deflecting every criticism along the lines of "Well, the other side clearly has it wrong on [fill in the blank: abortion/torture] so why should we listen to what they have to say about [torture/abortion]?" Have evangelicals considered the possibility that both torture and abortion are wrong on largely the same grounds, namely, the inherent dignity of human life created in God's image? Must we choose between the human rights of pre-born children and the sanctity of a prisoner's life? Aren't they both human? When the protection of a sacred human life conflicts with other important goals (national security or women's rights for example), do the ends justify the means?

Cue responses from conservatives defending torture and liberals defending abortion...

End Times Gloom and Doom: A Historical Reality Check

I'm told that if you translate "Prince Charles of Wales" into Hebrew and calculate the symbols using an ancient Jewish number system, it adds up to 666. Sound the alarm!

One of my least favorite aspects of being an American evangelical Christian is getting lumped together with peddlers of apocalyptic speculation and escapism of the Left Behind variety. Unlike those who are convinced that a "secret rapture" will occur at any moment or that the current geopolitical landscape is God's cosmic chessboard where brutal dictators, wars, famines and genocide are part of an inevitable collision course to destruction, I'm in no rush to force-fit today's headlines though an end times filter.

So instead of wading into the deep theological waters of eschatology or the Scriptural basis for cultural renewal, I offer the following 3 morsels to chew on. You'll likely need to read them at least twice to capture their full meaning, but it's an undertaking well worth the effort. I should also mention that each selection comes from the pen of a committed evangelical Christian. Ready, partake:

• "The evangelical predilection, when faced with a world crisis, to use the Bible as a crystal ball instead of as a guide for sorting out the complex tangles of international morality was nowhere more evident than in response to the Gulf War in early 1991. Neither through the publishing of books nor through focused consideration in periodicals did evangelicals engage in significant discussions on the morality of the war, the use of the United Nations in the wake of the collapse of Communism, the significance of oil for job creation or wealth formation throughout the world, the history of Western efforts at intervention in the Middle East, or other topics fairly crying out for serious Christian analysis. Instead, evangelicals gobbled up more than half a million copies of several self-assured, populist explanations of how the Gulf crisis was fulfilling the details of obscure biblical prophecies." -Mark Noll (The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind, Eerdmans, 1994)

• "The current crisis was always identified as a sign of the end, whether it was the Russo-Japanese War, the First World War, the Second World War, the Palestine War, the Suez Crisis, the June War or the Yom Kippur War. The revival of the Roman Empire has been identified variously as Mussolini’s empire, the League of Nations, the United Nations, the European Defense Community, the Common Market and NATO. Speculation on the Antichrist has included Napoleon, Mussolini, Hitler and Henry Kissinger. The northern confederation was supposedly formed by the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk, the Rapallo Treaty, the Nazi-Soviet Pact and then the Soviet Bloc. The 'kings of the east' have been variously the Turks, the lost tribes of Israel, Japan, India and China. The supposed restoration of Israel has confused the problem of whether the Jews are to be restored before or after the coming of the Messiah. The restoration of the latter rain has been pinpointed to have begun in 1897, 1917, and 1948. The end of the 'times of the Gentiles' has been placed in 1895, 1917, 1948 and 1967. 'Gog' has been an impending threat since the Crimean War, both under the Czars and the Communists. -Dwight Wilson (Armageddon Now! The Premillenarian Response to Russia and Israel since 1917, Baker Books, 1977)

• "Revelation 21-22 makes it clear that the ultimate purpose of redemption is not to escape the material world, but to renew it. God's purpose is not only saving individuals, but also inaugurating a new world based on justice, peace, and love, not power, strife, and selfishness." -Tim Keller (Christianity Today, A New Kind of Urban Christian, May 2006)