After writing my piece comparing Mercersburg Theology with Neo Calvinism, my online-friend Gregory Baus pointed out that the tenets I was describing can be found in the best, if not the whole, of the Presbyterian tradition. As an example, he pointed to Sean Michael Lucas’ definitive biography of Robert Lewis Dabney, specifically his chapter dealing with Dabney’s public theology. Below is a short excerpt from that chapter, of interest to those Presbyterians concerned with cultivating an ancient, “antimodern” faith:
“Dabney’s strong adherence to an older faith placed him closer to antimodernists, who were discovering ancient religions such as Buddhism or rediscovering Catholicism, than to New South Presbyterians, who downplayed their creeds in order to influence Southern Culture….
In a gilded age that made the seemingly impossible possible though unprecedented technological manipulation, antimodernists sought a refuge in otherworldly faiths, which proclaimed a transcendent deity who was shrouded in mystery.
Though most scholars have failed to recognize the possibility that Old School Calvinism—as maintained at Princeton Seminary or defended by Dabney—could be as antimodern as Buddhism or Anglo-Catholicism, for Dabney it appeared that the older faith in a transcendent, sovereign deity both put him out of step with the prevailing modernist spirit of the age and provided resources to challenge the modern age of the Spirit.”
In 1844 the newly formed seminary of the German Reformed Church called Philip Schaff to be professor of Church history. After trekking from Berlin to Pennsylvania, Schaff promptly delivered the inaugural lecture for the semester. This lecture, later published with an introduction by Schaff’s colleague John Nevin as The Principle of Protestantism, encapsulated the Reformed, ecumenical, and sacramental emphasis, which came to be known as Mercersburg Theology. Half a century later another European theologian who, like Schaff, was heavily influenced by German Idealism landed on American soil to lecture on a theological system he had been developing in the Netherlands. In these addresses, later published as Lectures on Calvinism, Abraham Kuyper defended a Neo-Calvinistic worldview that was culturally all-encompassing. Christ’s redemption, argued Kuyper, was not limited to the so-called “sacred” or “spiritual” realms, but embraced art, politics, commerce and every sphere in which man is a participant.
To be sure, the legacies of Neo-Calvinism and Mercersburg are not equal in regards to size or influence. While the Dutch Reformed Church has flourished in Europe, South Africa, Canada, and America, Mercersburg theology has never reached more than a modest, albeit fervent, following. In addition to being smaller, the Mercersburg family tree looks very different from that of the Neo-Calvinists. The Mercersburg tree, shaped by more churchly conversations, grew in a more liturgical, ecumenical direction, while the Neo-Calvinist tree bent toward cultural engagement.
My argument is not that the Mercersburg and Neo-Calvinist families are arguing for the same thing only with a different vocabulary. The branches of both trees have reached too many and too far for such a hypothesis to be submitted let alone taken seriously. Rather, my argument is that while the trees do not share identity, they do share similarity. This similarity, far from being coincidental or contrived, I will argue is naturally and organically found in the writings of the Mercersburg and Neo-Calvinist founders. Indeed, it is my contention that the Mercersburg and Neo-Calvinist trees share similar roots and grew in the like soil of a decidedly non-puritanical reading of Calvin.
Thus, what follows is not an attempt to read Nevin as a Dutchman or Kuyper as an Antebellum Presbyterian. Rather, my aim is more modest and will come in three parts. First, I hope to show that both parties were reacting to the same problem; namely, the radical subjectivism produced by the Enlightenment. Second, in contrast to the modern strain of individualism, both parties sought to locate the nexus of ecclesial and epistemological authority squarely in the active, current reign of Jesus. Lastly, I will offer two ways in which both camps could be strengthened by a close reading of one anther’s texts. Such mutual appreciation, I will conclude, will assist both camp’s efforts of faithfulness and relevancy. (more…)
The current campaign season has been brutal thus far. The American people have been treated to vitriolic personal attacks, countless conspiracy theories, and two major party candidates with questionable track records. Every word has been parsed by media, and every issue has been intensified by endless social media pontificating. The only people in the country who have anything to smile about right now are political science grad students, waking to a world of endless dissertation topics.
In the coming days, church leaders have some hard work to do as well. Challenges facing us include healing the wounds in sharply divided churches and finding new ways of engaging the public square. The last few days have, however, brought to my mind one issue above all others: the current state of American evangelical discipleship.
We have watched once admired leaders engage in hypocritical power-grabbing, willing to tarnish their legacy just so evangelicals have some foothold in the White House. Maybe more frightening than this, many sincere brothers and sisters have demonstrated an anemic moral reasoning which allows them to ignore language and actions clearly condemned by Scripture. “SCOTUS is all that matters right now,” they say. “And have you seen the other person?” they add with a touch of moral indignation. These latest remarks are one more stream feeding a growing river of American evangelical resistance to criticism (think of the recent conversations involving race) and fear of appearing “liberal” on almost any issue.
Of course, I write these words as a minister of the gospel who is himself flawed. Even as I read social media comments and mourn our present condition, I am reminded of my own persistent oversights and shortcomings. I mourn over the continual ways in which my behaviors, attitudes, and thoughts are out of step with the way of Jesus. I think of the state of my own discipleship, and I question my fitness to lead the church in these challenging days.
To be certain, discipleship has been occurring in our churches. Yet the current models have been found wanting. In particular the typical pathway of American evangelical discipleship has included the following elements:
A basic knowledge that we are somehow forgiven by God through Jesus
Short Scripture readings chosen for “comfort” and “encouragement”
A near obsessive focus on marriage and parenting
Constant reminders that God is with us in our struggles
A working knowledge of the “Christian position” on a few social issues
A variety of teachings on “hearing” God’s voice
The end results have been people who know God’s forgiveness but are shaky on God’s commands. A people who love God’s encouragement but don’t quite know what to do with God’s warnings. A people who want to succeed in life (with money or marriage) but still somehow follow a guy who was crucified. A people who have tried to live the Christian life in largely individualistic terms on a diet of disconnected verses. Hence, the focus on “hearing” God’s voice – not on hearing God’s Word in Scripture proclaimed to God’s people.
Many of us have been aware of the problem of malnourished disciples for too long. Answers have been proposed. Some have suggested that we ditch the judgment and focus on inclusivity. Others have found the answer in a life of miracles and immediate divine revelation. Another group has turned to renewed Christian intellectualism to supply our needs. In many instances, the answers to the problem have proven as troublesome as the problem itself.
In these difficult days, what are church leaders concerned with the ongoing growth of God’s people to do? There are simply no curriculums or social scientific studies which will solve our problem. In fact, the answers seem to this observer to be remarkably unremarkable. As November comes and goes, I am re-committing myself to three tasks.
Immerse God’s people in the reading of Scripture. – God’s people need God’s Word. It needs to be read individually, memorized, and, most critically, read and heard together in our congregations. We need more than disconnected thoughts. We need lengthy pericopes, whole chapters, Old and New Testament working together. God’s people need to wake with David. Commute to work in the company of the Exodus community. And worship God together in the words of the Psalter. Memorization is key. We need God’s Word to make its way down into our long-term memory so that it can be deployed in the course of day-to-day living. We need to memorize more than single verses but, instead, whole chapters and strings of verses addressing the same theme. We need to feast not only on a few biblical words but on whole patterns of biblical thought. And if we find that we are crunched for time, we need to be prepared to ditch the single-verse devotionals and the many books on Christian living. We can no longer afford to raise up people who know how to set boundaries but don’t know how God’s covenants develop throughout the Bible or the differences between Matthew and Mark. These resources are not bad; they are simply inadequate for our present need.
Teach God’s people biblical theology. – Even as God’s Word is read, heard, and memorized, church leaders must recommit themselves to teaching the overarching narrative of Scripture. We must develop the relationships between different portions of the Bible. In our thematic studies, we must collect relevant material from a story which begins with creation, experiences the horrific consequences of the fall, tastes the glory of redemption, and culminates with the restoration of all things. Our people don’t need bits and pieces of Scripture to provide comfort in crisis. Our people need deep and sturdy understandings of biblical ideas, strong enough to sort through the bewildering landscape of modern life. Many of our heroes in the faith have led their people through verse-by-verse expository study. This approach has borne fruit, but I doubt that it currently addresses the needs of people without a significant biblical-theological framework. Every teaching time is an opportunity to reinforce the grand sweep of the narrative and to point to the redemptive work of Jesus. To be sure, not every sermon will be the same. We simply cannot miss the opportunity to teach the all-encompassing nature of the Scriptural portrait of reality.
Provoke the moral imagination of God’s people. – God’s people don’t need their church leaders to feed them the answers to today’s difficult questions. The results of this approach are all around us. Approaching ethics top-down has led to imbalance in our witness to the world. For example, we are often capable of crying out against the abortion industry but incapable of addressing real and persistent racism in our communities. We compromise on some issues and justify the compromise on the basis of another issue. This has also given birth to a subtle yet insidious legalism which leaves us suspecting the salvation of anyone who speaks out of step with us on our prized ethical (and often political) issues. How can we forge a better way? We start by following the path of the first task above. God’s people – and the leaders of that people – need to be exposed to the wide range of imperative content in the Bible. The Bible has much to say about the distortion of God’s will in all areas of life – including the economic, the political, the personal, and the sexual. We need all of this material. Moreover, application in our sermons and teaching times should be designed to suggest the multitude of ways in which the Bible gets under our skin and opens up new pathways for our present walk. Don’t tell people what to do. Show them the possibilities of a life lived under God’s rule. Church history has a crucial role to play at this point. Studying the history of the Holy Spirit at work in the church shows us how the Bible has formed and shaped our mothers and fathers in the faith. What did the Bible mean for the early modern city of Geneva? How did the African slave community appropriate the story of the Exodus? How have Christians from other eras persevered in strange political environments? I would advise congregations to consider using Sunday school time or small group meetings to engage in these types of historical study. It might even help to hire a historian-in-residence, equipped to bring case studies before the eyes and minds of God’s saints.
Much more could be said and needs to be said concerning the future of American evangelical discipleship. These brief thoughts have not touched on the necessary subjects of prayer, sacraments, or evangelism. But one last thing must be mentioned. These goals are attainable. We do not need large congregations, big budgets, or advanced degrees to begin digging into the world of corporate Scripture reading and imaginative moral thinking. We do, of course, need willing hearts and ready hands; yet the possibilities lie no further than the Bible on our shelves and the people in our homes. Real ministry and real discipleship do not begin with professional musicians and bounce houses. Those things are great, but they are not the stuff of discipleship. So here’s to the future of American evangelical discipleship – far beyond the dark and troubling days of early November.
Scott Cress is Associate Pastor of Faith Presbyterian Church (EPC) in West Lafayette, IN. In addition to his pastoral work, he serves as a business chaplain and part-time lecturer with Purdue Polytechnic Institute. He is married to Shana, with whom he is raising up two little disciples of Jesus.
In the next few weeks, colleges across the country will commence their Fall semester. Many students who grew up in Christian homes will consciously trade in their faith for a philosophical system antithetical to the one of their upbringing. Even more students, however, while not outright denying their Christian faith, will unconsciously adopt a philosophical system that is inherently idolatrous. It’s not that this second group wants to be idolaters; they simply lack the tools to discern the nature of the bill of goods their professor is selling them.
So, how can one know if a given philosophical system (Kantianism, Marxism, Platonism, etc.) is idolatrous? One can begin by asking two questions. First, “is this logical?” Second, “is this sinful?” If the answer is “yes” to the first question, the answer will be “no” to the second question. If the answer is “no” to the first question, the answer will be “yes” to the second question. Here’s a story to illustrate the point:
On her twenty first birthday, Cindy was promised a night on the town with her girlfriends. After dinner, her friends came to her house in a limo, blindfolded her, and took her to Crazy Dave’s Casino (obviously, she had some pretty lame friends…). As they were getting into the limo, they shoved some bills in her purse and said “tonight’s on us!” Once inside, Cindy took off her blindfold. Because there was no signage on the inside of the building, Cindy still wasn’t sure where she was. Eventually, she saw a waitress and asked if she could get something to drink. As she pulled out her wallet to pay, she saw four hundred Crazy Dave’s Casino-Bucks in her purse.
Now, there are only two ways that Cindy could have deduced her location. First, she could have spotted a logo. While it’s true the big Crazy Dave’s sign was outside, there were actually logo’s on the slot machines, napkins, etc. Secondly, of course, she could’ve known by looking at the Crazy Dave’s Casino-Bucks. Her currency could’ve revealed to her the location. Likewise, her location could have told her what sort of currency her friends slipped into her purse. For Cindy to answer the question “am I at Casino Dave’s?” she’d have to look at her currency. For her to answer the question “what sort of currency do I have in my purse?” she’d have to look at the signage.
Back to our original question: how can one know if a given philosophical system is idolatrous? There are at least two ways: Firstly, you can look for signage. Here, you’re trying to determine if the system outrightly advertises itself as sinful. Put simply, this means asking a couple questions of the philosophical system. One question is, “does it enable me to do something God forbids?” Nihilism, for instance, enables one to tear down systems for “tearing’s” sake. Well, some systems need to be torn down, but we’re commanded to obey God’s rule. Any tearing, then, must not be for its own sake, but because we’re seeking a system patterned after the rule of God.
Thus, we know Nihilism is idolatrous because it enables us to do something God forbids. Another question to ask is, “does the system forbid me from doing something God commands?” Animism, for instance, is idolatrous because it teaches that everything on the earth, indeed the earth itself, has a soul. Thus, I’m forbidden from, among other things, giving thanks to God. If “Mother Nature” is giving me food, my thanksgiving is directed to the object I’m eating rather than the One who gave me the object to eat. Like Cindy, you’re in a building (the Casino of Idolatry, if you will), and you’re looking for clues as to the nature of the structure.
Secondly, you can look at the currency in which the philosophical system deals. This is crucial because not all philosophical systems are easily detected as “sinful.” Like Cindy in the casino, there isn’t a big Crazy Dave’s sign, and the logos are quite small and inconspicuous. Thus, it won’t do to simply ask “am I in the Casino of Idolatry?” Rather, you’ll have to ask “am I using the currency of the Casino of Idolatry?”
Well, what is the currency of idolatry? In a word, it’s illogicality. If the system is illogical, it is idolatrous. Idolatry is always making a deal in which you trade life for death; the family blessing for some soup. An idolatrous philosophical system never uses the currency of “logic.” Thus, one can ask the question, “Are the propositions which this philosophy proposes logical?” If the answer is “no!” then you can know the system is itself idolatrous. With a little deductive reasoning, one can find idolatry in any illogical statement. Likewise, one can find incoherence in any given expression of idolatry.
Take, for example, the illogicality of Kantianism. In his book on logic (a wonderful resource for any incoming freshman!), Vern Poythress shows how the system is self-defeating (i.e. illogical):
“Kantianism uses reason to build a system that sets the limits of reason. To do so, it has to survey the field. It has to transcend the phenomenal and look at the noumenal realm as well. It has to take a God’s-eye view. This view, once achieved, afterwards allows it to tell you and me the narrower limits in which our reason can safely operate. The God’s-eye view is Kantianism’s secret, and simultaneously its weakest point. Kantianism is self-destructive. In its results, it tells us what are the limitations of reason. If we take those results seriously, we have to apply them to Kantianism’s own reasonings about philosophy. Those reasonings go beyond the limits, and so we conclude that they are not sound.”
Faith is not antithetical to critical reasoning. In fact, faith offers the freshman the tools by which she can fully engage the whole of reality, physical and metaphysical. Or, to stick with our illustration, the biblical faith offers a currency backed by the Creator of the whole world. Thus, spendable not only in “religion class” but in philosophy, art history, economics, and science. Go, then, freshman: study with confidence! Indeed, study in faith.
On Facebook, I’ve been compiling lists of “go to books” on various topics (apologetics, discipleship, education, etc.). A friend sent me this question: what are your list of “go to living writers/thinkers?” Being a schoolteacher in the Summer, I had the time to give it some thought. At first, I typed out a list of ten names in no particular order: Ken Myers, RC Sproul, NT Wright, John Frame, Eugene Peterson, Robert Barron, Peter Leithart., Alistair Begg, Marilynne Robinson, Os Guinness.
I was relatively happy with the list. It was honest; it reflected those to whom I look and trust. However, after some thought, I deleted the names. In their place I wrote one name: Byron Borger. Of course, one person really isn’t a “list.” One person can’t represent the depth or breadth of a tradition. Yet, I’m confident those familiar with Byron’s work at Hearts and Minds Bookstore will understand my rationale. As I looked over the authors–those people who have been so pivotal to my formation as a Christian, I was struck by something: If I didn’t directly learn about them from Byron, I at least read one of their books at the insistence of one of his brilliant reviews. Just this week, in fact, I started David Dark’s new book at Byron’s recommendation.
For those unfamiliar with the work of the Byron and his wife Beth, Hearts and Minds Books is an independent bookstore located Dallastown, PA going on 30 years. Prior to starting the store, Byron was a college minster with Coalition for Christian Outreach. When you email Byron a question, as I have, you feel his college ministry background. He’s a man who has clearly spent his life engaged with big questions and big ideas. He’s eager to connect just the right person with just the right work. Sure, there are times he gets excited about a particular book and strives to get everyone to read it (i.e. Visions of Vocation), but that’s not his typical MO. Observing from a distance (we’ve never met in person), I’ve found Borger’s vocation to be more similar to a pharmacist than a bookseller. People come to Hearts and Minds with one deficiency or another. After some listening, Borger prescribes just the right supplement of Al Wolters or Richard Middleton or an obscure gem hidden in a tacky dust jacket. (more…)
This week week Eerdmans released his newest book, Field Hospital: The Church’s Engagement with a Wounded World. While the book (which Matthew Levering calls “Richly instructive”) is made up of a number of essays and lectures developed over several years, the work holds together as a cohesive argument, summed up in Pope Francis’ famous metaphor of the church as a field hospital. Says Cavanaugh:
“The image of field hospital pictures the church not simply lobbying but taking risks, refusing to accept ‘the political system’ or ‘the economy’ as is, but rather creating new mobile and improvised spaces where different kinds of politics or economic practices can take root.”
While there’s plenty within the pages with which to quibble (the distinguishing quality of any good book!), the book represents the mature, thoughtful thinking of one of the most creative Political Theologians working today. In keeping with Cavanaugh’s overall project, that which is “earthly” is revealed to be incredibly “heavenly,” and vice versa. For a taste, watch the following interview between Cavanaugh and Rachel Bomberger:
I’ve mentioned my appreciation for the work of Nicholas Wolterstorff before. Even in those times when I’m not completely persuaded by his argument, I find his reasoning to be incredibly stimulating and helpful. The below excerpt comes amid a discussion on the question, “are Christian schools necessary?” In offering an affirmative answer, Wolterstorff gives a splendid discourse on the logical implication of the Christian world-and-life-view vis-à-vis education. For book length discussions in this vein, I’d highly recommend Norman Dejong’s classic Education in the Truth, the collection of essays by Berkhof and Van Til Foundations of Christian Education, Desiring the Kingdom by James K.A. Smith, Donovan Graham’s Teaching Redemptively, and of course Wolterstorff himself, starting here:
“Christian parents, in directing the education of their child, will seek to train the child to live the Christian way of life as a member of the Christian community in the midst of human society[i]. The children of Christian parents are already members of the household of faith, they are immature members. It is the duty and responsibility of Christian parents to bring their membership to maturity.
It should be noticed that the primary aim of the education that Christian parents give their child is a positive one—preparing the child to do something in society. The primary aim is not a negative one—secluding and isolating the children from society, quarantining them against infection. The Christian view of faith, life, and society justifies no such fearful and apprehensive negativism.
Thus, the question as to whether the Christians should maintain separate Christian day-schools will have to be wholly determined by their judgment as to whether the public schools, plus their homes and churches, are adequate instruments for that end. There can be little doubt that homes and churches together are adequate instruments for teaching children the proper devotional practices and the proper theological beliefs; one scarcely needs separate day-schools for that. But the question is whether homes and churches plus the public school are adequate instruments for training children to live the whole Christian way of life.
How could the public school supply what Christians must demand of the school to which they send their children? For, to repeat, the public school must be affirmatively impartial in its educational policies and practices. It cannot with propriety undertake to be a training ground for the Christian way of life. It cannot rightfully, in our religiously diverse society, systematically inculcate Christian standards for the assessment of art and literature, Christian economic and political principles, the Christian understanding of work, the Christian view of nature, the Christian understanding of the source of evil in human affairs. Yet exactly these things—and many others of the same sort—are what the Christian wants inculcated in the child, for the inculcation of such things is indispensable to training the child to live the whole Christian way of life.
It cannot be overlooked that the gospel speaks to our this-worldly secular existence as well as to our other-worldly existence. I think it is difficult, therefore, to avoid the conclusion that Christians need Christian schools for the education of their children. And once more—they do not need them to teach children the Christian way of worship; they need them to teach children the Christian way of life.”
It is that time of year when the cultures of Christmas past, Christmas present, and even Christmas future converge upon our family celebrations. While there is always a sense of anticipation at what will come underneath the tree, for Christians the greatest gift of Christmas has already been unwrapped, and its message remains evergreen. The Gospel of Matthew explains that the prophet Isaiah’s words were fulfilled in Jesus’ birth: “Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel,” which is translated, “God with us.” (Matt. 1:23)
It was the day Love came down.
I have yet to see the latest installment in the Star Wars series, the futuristic film released this Christmas present. My hope is that its plotline has improved upon Episode one, in which George Lucas revealed that the unfathomable mysteries of the Force lay in a microscopic material cause: Darth Vader’s mother had conceived a son, not by a man, but by the mysterious power of the midi-chlorians that inhabit and flow through all of life. (more…)
Marvin Olasky turned the tables on Ken Myers, conducting an intelligent, sweeping conversation on things ranging from modern dance to radical Islam. Per usual, when Ken talks about anything he talks about everything, deftly showing cultural connections between seemingly unrelated artifacts. Those who listen to Ken’s bimonthly MARS HILL AUDIO Journal won’t be surprised by the themes emphasized:
Life is a gift and the Spirit is the giver.
You can only believe what you can imagine.
Religion is a modern myth.
If you don’t have time to listen to the whole interview, skip to minute 58:30. There, Myers attempts to answer the question, “why does God allow Islam?” Following Peter Leithart and William Cavanaugh, Myers says Islam is a rebuke to the Western church which has succumbed to the temptation to privatize the faith. Perceived this way, the church can engage Islam by critiquing not its outward stance, but its dogma; that it’s a public outworking of a faith lacking a Trinity, an incarnation, or indeed grace.
“All of life is spiritual except what is actually sin.” – Francis Schaeffer
An extremely formative class during my time at Covenant Seminary was Cultural Apologetics, which my wife, Whitney, and I took with Mark Ryan and Dick Keyes. I’m thankful for the work of FrancisSchaefferStudies.org in bringing a number of old L’Abri lectures back into circulation – including the one below by Keyes. Here, Dick gives a brief intro to L’Abri by describing its five core ideas, which are as relevant today as they were in 1984:
There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, ‘Mine!’Abraham Kuyper
“Dabney’s strong adherence to an older faith placed him closer to antimodernists, who were discovering ancient religions such as Buddhism or rediscovering Catholicism, than to New South Presbyterians, who downplayed their creeds in order to influence Southern Culture….
