The Gospel Coalition

Arthur Herman. How the Scots Invented the Modern World: The True Story of How Western Europe’s Poorest Nation Created Our World and Everything in It (Three Rivers Press, 2001). Written in the same vein as How The Irish Saved Civilization, this book focuses on 18th century Scotland and the influence of those Scots in the Western world. From Hume to Hutcheson to Lord Kames to Adam Smith, the Scottish Enlightenment shaped our world more than most people realize. Herman has written an accessible and well told narrative of the most important events and most important Scots in the early modern period. I especially enjoyed the two chapters on Bonnie Prince Charlie and the Rebellion of 1745–fascinating history that most Americans know nothing about.

Willem J. Van Asselt. Introduction to Reformed Scholasticism (Reformation Heritage Books, 2011). Get this book, especially if you are Reformed, and especially if you are a Reformed pastor. At 250 pages, you won’t find a better introduction to the subject–a subject about which most Reformed Christians and pastors are largely ignorant. The important thesis of this book–and it is very much in the Richard Muller school of thought–is that “scholastic refers above all to method, without direct implications for content” (8). So Reformed Scholasticism is about orthodox Reformed theology (i.e., that which coheres with the Reformed confessions) explained and defended using the particular form scholastic method. For my money, the most important chapters were the ones tracing the development of Early Orthodoxy (1560-1620), High Orthodoxy (1620-1700), and Late Orthodoxy (1700-1790), with representative examples from each time period (Franciscus Junius, Francis Turretin, and Benedict Pictet respectively).

William S. Barker and W. Robert Godfrey, eds. Theonomy: A Reformed Critique (Zondervan 1990). It’s hard to find a competent critique of theonomy. This out of print book–with chapters from the likes of Waltke, Frame, Poythress, Gaffin, and Keller–is one of the few resources worth getting. I found Tremper Longman’s chapter on penology, Godfrey’s chapter on Calvin, and Sinclair Ferguson’s chapter on the Westminster Assembly especially helpful.

Jack C. Whytock. An Educated Clergy: Scottish Theological Education and Training in the Kirk and Secession, 1560-1850 (Wipf and Stock, 2008). The title tells you what you need to know. If you are not particularly interested in Scottish theological education from 1560-1850 this book ain’t gonna float your boat. But if you need to know something in this subject area, you’ll be mighty thankful for the excellent research and documentation Whytock has provided. A critical piece of scholarship for specialists in the field.

Jon D. Payne and Sebastian Heck, eds. A Faith Worth Teaching: The Heidelberg Catechism’s Enduring Heritage (Reformation Heritage Books, 2013). This new release is a handsome hardcover with an excellent line up of scholars, including Lyle Bierma, Mark Jones, Danny Hyde, Cornelis Venema, Mike Horton, and Joel Beeke. Here’s my blurb: “This is a wonderful collection of articles, both practical and scholarly. There is much here to help us understand the history, the theology, and the continuing relevance of the Heidelberg Catechism. As we preach through the Heidelberg in our church, I will certainly consult this book often. It prompted me to think again and again, ‘Isn’t the Catechism remarkable!’ and, more importantly, ‘Isn’t the gospel amazing!’”

Sam Storms. Kingdom Come: The Amillennial Alternative (Mentor, 2013). I’m really excited about this book and grateful to Sam for the years he put in to this significant volume. Here’s what I say on the back cover: “This is a remarkable book which will surely become the standard bearer for Amillennialism for years to some. This is a book I will return to many times in my personal study and in pastoral ministry. Storms has given us a model for accessible, relevant, warm-hearted scholarship in service of the church.”

Oliver D. Crisp and Douglas A. Sweeney. After Jonathan Edwards: The Courses of the New England Theology (Oxford University Press, 2012). Yes, I know, another meaty book on Jonathan Edwards. But this one, like many other recent volumes, is a good one. Three chapters stood out to me. I continue to find Mark Noll’s insistence that Edwards was the good guy that later Presbyterian bad guys ignored or dismissed to be overwrought. I found Darryl Hart’s chapter on Edwards and the Young, Restless, and Reformed to be more balanced than I might have expected, with a healthy does of caution that Edward’s soaring theology tends not to mesh well with popular forms of evangelicalism. And finally, I found Paul Helm’s chapter comparing Edwardsianism with older forms of Reformed thought to be a much needed essay for those who only know Reformed theology through the lens of the great, and sometimes peculiar, theologian from Northampton.

In his book The Meaning of Marriage, Tim Keller warns against becoming “a faux spouse for someone who won’t commit to you” (215). While some relationships move too quickly, many others drag on for years with no signs of deepening or progressing toward marriage.  Keller observes that some people (usually men, I’d say) are content to experience a relationship with the opposite sex that yields many of the benefits of marriage (companionship, someone to talk to, someone to bring to social functions) without any of the commitment.

Tim poignantly, and humorously, explains how this very phenomenon was occurring in his relationship with Kathy at one point.

[T]here came a time in our relationship, after we had known each other for several years, when Kathy saw that this was exactly what had happened, and so she gave what has come too be known in our family as the “pearls before swine” speech.

Though we were best friends and kindred spirits, I was still hurting from a previous relationship that had ended badly. Kathy was patient and understanding, up to a point, but the day came when she said, “Look, I can’t take this anymore. I have been expecting to be promoted from friend to girlfriend. I know you don’t mean to be saying this, but every day you don’t choose me to be more than a friend, it feels as if I’ve been weighed and found wanting–I feel it as rejection. So I just can’t keep going on the same way, hoping that someday you’ll want me to be more than a friend. I’m not calling myself a pearl, and I’m not calling you a pig, but one of the reasons Jesus told his disciples not to cast pearls before swine was because a pig can’t recognize the value of a pearl. It would seem like just a pebble. If you can’t see me as valuable to you, then I’m not going to keep throwing myself into your company, hoping and hoping. I can’t do it. The rejection that I perceive, whether you intend it or not, is just too painful.”

That’s exactly what she said. It got my attention. It sent me into a time of deep self-examination. A couple weeks later, I made the choice. (216)

Now listen, don’t do anything rash on Valentine’s Day. The emotions may be running just a bit too hot. But there is probably someone reading this blog who needs to make their “pearls before swine” speech. And just as likely there are probably more than a few folks who need to make up their minds. Think about it. If you’ve found a pearl, don’t lose it.

This was a very good year for books. I’ve made several Top Ten lists, and some years I can’t think of ten really strong books to include. This year, however, I had a hard time figuring out which books to bump off.

It should go without saying that this list is not meant to assess the whole gamut of Christian publishing, let alone every interesting book published in 2012. I read a lot of books, but there are plenty of worthy titles that I never touch (and never heard of). This is simply a list of the books (Christian and non-Christian, but all non-fiction) that I thought were the best ones published in the past year.

When I say “best” I have several questions in mind:

•    Was this book well written and enjoyable to read?
•    Did I find it personally challenging, illuminating, edifying, or entertaining?
•    Is it a book I am likely to reread or consult often?
•    Do I see myself frequently recommending this book to others?

The books that score well in all categories are “best” and make their way on Top Ten lists.

10 (tie). Paul David Tripp, Dangerous Calling: Confronting the Unique Challenges of Pastoral Ministry (Crossway).
10 (tie). Zack Eswine, Sensing Jesus: Life and Ministry as a Human Being (Crossway)

Both books are convicting, challenging, and freeing. Both are very personal too. Tripp’s book is full of cautionary tales and arresting illustrations. I can’t imagine a pastor not being helped by this volume (though, my one quibble is that I think Tripp is too hard on seminaries). I also agree with Tony Reinke that the design and physical feel of this book are terrific.

I got Eswine’s very recently so I wasn’t able to finish it. But I love what I’ve read, and the endorsements are unusually laudatory. Of the two, Tripp’s is more hortatory and Eswine’s more contemplative. A lot of wisdom, experience, and honesty in both volumes.

9. Rob Lister, God is Impassible and Impassioned: Toward a Theology of Divine Emotion (Crossway). Ah yes, the book I always thought I might write, but am glad someone else did first. No doubt, Lister’s scholarship is better than mine would have been. We really are in his debt for doing the heavy lifting through the Church Fathers, the Reformers, Moltmann, and the relevant academic literature on the massively important question “Does God suffer?” Lister says no: God is impassible, but that does not mean he is passionless. I hope Lister will consider a popular level volume on the same topic so that more of the church can benefit from his research and reasoning.

8. Charles Murray, Coming Apart: The State of White America, 1960-2010 (Crown Forum).  A much talked about book that will continued to be referenced in the broader culture, especially among conservatives. This book “is about an evolution in American society that has taken place since November 21, 1963, leading to the formation of classes that are different in kind and in their degree of separation from anything that the nation has ever known. I will argue that the divergence into these separate classes, if it continues, will end what has made America America” (11). Whether you agree every jot of his analysis and every tittle of his prescription, you will be challenged to think more deeply about virtue, vice, segregation, culture, the elite, the working class, happiness, and the uniqueness of the American project.

7. Jay Nordlinger, Peace, They Say: A History of the Nobel Peace Prize, the Most Famous and Controversial Prize in the World (Encounter). This book reads like a survey of 20th century history and a series of mini-biographies. Nordlinger writes with a good pace and a light touch. He has a good sense for keeping things interesting and a keen eye for the inspiring and the ironic. He had my attention after his opening chapters on Alfred Nobel and “Norway the Peaceful.”

6. Timothy Keller (with Kathy Keller), The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God (Dutton). This is Keller being Keller (both of them!). Their writing is culturally informed, sensitive to skeptics, and full of biblical wisdom. We’ve been reading this book in our small group for the several months. The conversation has been great and everyone has loved the book. There’s a lot in this book for singles too. With a plethora of sound marriage books to choose from, I’m sure I will be recommending this one often.

5. Alistair Chapman, Godly Ambition: John Stott and the Evangelical Movement (Oxford University Press). Although the book, being a handsome OUP print, is a bit pricey, it’s worth your investment. If only all dissertations-turned-into-books were as fascinating as this one. Chapman understands Stott both as a seminal figure in the growth of global evangelicalism and as a man born into privilege in a certain kind of Britain that no longer exists. Of particular importance is the insight Chapman gives into Stott’s shift on social issues.

4. Carl Trueman, Creedal Imperative (Crossway). Not long ago one of my friends asked what’s one book I wish everyone in my church would read. Many suggestions came to mind. In the future, this will be one of them. With this book, confessional churches will better understand what they are and why they exist. Non-confessional churches may developing a hankering for catechisms and confessions. Trueman argues cogently and persuasively for the importance of doctrine, definition, and delineation in the life of the church.

3. Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy, The President’s Club: Inside the World’s Most Exclusive Fraternity (Simon and Schuster). Having read their book on Billy Graham and the presidents, I was eager to read another Gibbs/Duffy book on the highest office in the land. They avoid covering the same ground as many other presidential books by looking at the post-WWII presidents as they have related to each other. This unique angle makes for unique history. You’ll find out who was better than you thought (Hoover), which president went rogue (Carter), and which two are surprisingly good friends (Bush 41 and Clinton). This is popular history at its best—accessible, interesting, and with a knack for the untold story.

2. D.A. Carson, The Intolerance of Tolerance (Eerdmans). I’m surprised I haven’t heard more people in my circles talking about this book. They should be. Carson tackles the subject of tolerance with his usual verve, careful analysis, theological probing, and well-timed expressions of exasperation. Our staff is just finishing a semester together in this volume. Christian leaders and teachers need to read this book.

1. Joel R. Beeke and Mark Jones, A Puritan Theology: Doctrine for Life (Reformation Heritage Books). This is a remarkable achievement: a systematic theology which synthesizes the best of Puritan thought. Here you’ll find the best of head and heart, of praise and praxis, of careful thinking toward the goal of a godly life. Beeke and Jones are to be commended for a groundbreaking volume that will benefit the church for generations. I know I will mine its riches often. A truly great book in a year of great books.

Honorable Mentions

Steve DeWitt, Eyes Wide Open: Enjoying God in Everything (Credo House)

Albert Mohler, The Conviction to Lead: 25 Principles for Leadership that Matters (Bethany House)

Michael J. McClymond and Gerald M. McDermott, The Theology of Jonathan Edwards (Oxford University Press)

George Whitefield (Lee Gatiss, editor), The Sermons of George Whitefield (Crossway)

Greek-English New Testament: Nestle-Aland 28th Edition and English Standard Version (Crossway)

Guest Blogger: Jason Helopoulos

Every preacher should be growing in their preaching ability. It is a gift that is to be nurtured. And there are able teachers available. One of the great benefits we have in our age, which did not exist in previous ages, is our ability to hear men from far away at the touch of a button. A good preacher will willing listen to other preachers and seek to nurture the gift given to him.

I have no doubt that some of the most gifted preachers in our time, as in every other age, are unknown outside their local congregations and immediate context. And because I don’t know them, I can’t point to them. Therefore, when I think of some of the gifted expository preachers of our day, the men below are those who come to mind. They all preach according to their own personality and makeup. And this is part of what makes them effective, so preachers don’t try to imitate some of the things they do. However, there are things that a preacher, who is always trying to grow in preaching can learn from them. (And every Christian seeking to grow in the faith would benefit from having these preachers on their iPods and iPads for regular listening).

Their sermons are all marked by the following qualities: attention to the text, it is clearly drawn from the passage they are proclaiming,  hard theological wrestling in the background, they do not shy away from hard teachings, are Christ focused, God-exalting, and usually excellent in application. I appreciate all of them as preachers for these reasons. These are qualities that we should all seek in our preaching. And yet what sets these preachers apart is not only these qualities, but what they each uniquely excel in. And it is these qualities that I want to draw our attention to. What they uniquely excel at are areas that all preachers would benefit from encouraging in their own preaching:

Derek Thomas–Dr. Thomas’ sermons do that which is seemingly difficult, but essential–his sermons tend to send the listener walking away contemplating God and focused upon Him. (Thomas sermons)

John Piper–When one thinks of Piper’s preaching, passion and sincerity have to be two of the first thoughts. His biblical preaching is always filled with energy and you know he believes what he is preaching. (Piper sermons)

Tim Keller–His sermons excel at clarity and engaging people in our current western culture. Many preachers are good exegetes of culture. Many are good exegetes of the text. It is not easy to be both, but Keller makes it look easy. (Keller sermons)

CJ Mahaney–There are few better at having sermons anchored with affection-stirring illustrations and pleading that is appropriate in calling lost sinners. (Mahaney sermons)

Sinclair Ferguson–The Scottish accent helps. Who doesn’t like a good Scottish accent? But a few minutes into the sermon you won’t find yourself thinking about Scotland. Ferguson’s sermons drip with theological richness, are always profound, and yet are simple to understand. That is a rare gift indeed! (Ferguson sermons)

Load up your iPod, take a walk, learn, and be blessed. And be a blessing to your people.

Tim Keller reflects on why sex before marriage is wrong and unwise:

The modern sexual revolution find the idea of abstinence till marriage to be so unrealistic as to be ludicrous. In fact, many people believe it is psychologically unhealthy and harmful. Yet despite the contemporary incredulity, this has been the unquestioned uniform teaching of not only one but all of the Christian churches—Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant.

The Bible does not counsel sexual abstinence before marriage because it has such a low view of sex but because it has such a lofty one. The Biblical view implies that sex outside of marriage is not just morally wrong but also personally harmful. If sex is designed to be part of making a covenant and experiencing that covenant’s renewal, then we should think of sex as an emotional “commitment apparatus.”

If sex is a method that God invented to do “whole life entrustment” and self-giving, it should not surprise us that sex makes us feel deeply connected to the other person, even when used wrongly. Unless you deliberately disable it, or through practice you numb the original impulse, sex makes you feel personally interwoven and joined to another human being, as you are literally physically joined. In the midst of sexual passion, you naturally want to say extravagant things such as, “I’ll always love you.”

Even if you are not legally married, you may find yourself quickly feeling marriage-like ties, feeling that the other person has obligations to you. But that other person has no legal, social, or moral responsibility to even call you back in the morning. This incongruity leads to jealousy and hurt feelings and obsessiveness if two people are having sex but are not married. It makes breaking up vastly harder than it should be. It leads many people to stay trapped in relationships that are not good because of a feeling of having (somehow) connected themselves.

Therefore, if you have sex outside marriage, you will have to steel yourself against sex’s power to soften your hear toward another person and make you more trusting. The problem is that, eventually, sex will lose its covenant-making power for you, even if you one day do get married. Ironically, then, sex outside of marriage eventually works backwards, making you less able to commit and trust another person. (The Meaning of Marriage, 225-27)

“Polemic” comes from the Greek word for war. It refers to a contentious argument or controversy. A polemicist, therefore, is one who does not shy away from controversy but strenuously argues for his position, often trying to refute a rival position in the process.

I am not against polemics. It is a necessary virtue for Christians in so far as Christianity believes in the immovability and central importance of truth. Where would the church be today if Athanasius, Augustine, and Luther eschewed polemics? Christians must be willing to enter the fray and engage in controversy if they are to be faithful in a fallen world.

I also know there are many dangers with polemics. I see them in myself and can spot them (more easily, sadly) in others.

1. Polemicists can be over-sensitive to certain errors. Have you ever noticed that most Christians (at least the ones engaged in controversy) have one particular error they are particularly good at spotting? I admit that I tend to be most critical of liberal theology and liberalizing tendencies in the church. I’m sure this is owing, in part, to being taught liberal theology in college and being in a denomination where almost everyone is more liberal than I am. I think often this sensitivity to liberal trends helps me guard against error and protect others from the same. But it can also mean that I’m too quick to pounce on theological mistakes that are more in the category of “honest ignorance” than malicious mendacity.  For others, it may mean they are too eager to swing a large mallet every time a little fly of Arminianism (or Calvinism) or Egalitarianism (or Complementarianism) buzzes by.

2. Polemicists can be under-sensitive to other errors. Over the years I’ve had to learn that just because liberalism is a problem, it doesn’t mean the most conservative position is always the solution. It feels safest to swing as far away from our enemies as possible, but sometimes that only serves to push us into another mistake. I’ve come to appreciate (if that’s the right word) that liberalism isn’t the only mistake bedeviling the church. Some people are loveless, some don’t pray, some can’t get along with others, some are legalistic, some are antinomian, some get off track with justification, others with sanctification, others with end times nonsense, and on and on. A good pastor, or a good Christian for that matter, must have the maturity to see that theological dangers come in many shapes and sizes.

3. Polemicists can lose all sense of proportion. We all have a tendency to lock onto our “thing,” whether that thing is gender issues, homosexuality, doodling in worship, the regulative principle, church architecture, real wine at communion, the Trinity, the ordo salutis, the poor, or seeker sensitive churches. The problem is not with having convictions on all these things. I think many of the items in the list above are extremely important. Several get to the heart of the Christian faith. The problem is when every issue becomes as big as every other issue, so that family-integration, every week communion, and justification by faith alone are all equally essential to the gospel. It’s fine for the Lord to call us to fight certain fights in our day, but we must not assume every fight is as critical as every other.

4. Polemicists can see everything through a single lens. This is true across the theological spectrum. For some people everything comes back to gender roles. That’s their bread and butter. That’s what’s wrong with the world (on either side of the issue). Everything is about the empowerment of women or the assault of feminism. Other people can’t stop railing against revivalism and Charles Finney. For still others, everything is about confessionalism, or pietism, or polity. When I dove deep into the emergent church I vowed to myself that I would not be the anti-emergent guy my whole life. I did not want to see emergents under every rock and be dropping them into sermons and lectures for the next thirty years. They weren’t that important and I didn’t want to become that imbalanced. Some of us never learn to let go of old battles and we never learn there are other things worth fighting for.

5. Polemicists can be less than careful with their attacks. There is a tendency in controversy to oppose what we shouldn’t oppose just to make sure we can oppose what should be opposed. I’ve always thought that N.T. Wright’s correctives regarding Second Temple Judaism would be more helpful if he didn’t go out of his way so often, and in my opinion so carelessly, to take swipes at imputed righteousness, the Bush administration, and anyone who has ever believed in going to heaven when you die. Just as bad are those bloggers who may or may not have an important point to make, but they always find a way to make the point with as much vitriol and alarm as possible.

6. Polemicists can give their opponents too much power over them. There are lots of people in this world and plenty of positions that really bug me. Some of them deserve to be opposed. Many of them deserve to be ignored. None of them deserve to have mastery over your life. It saddens me to see Christians who can’t seem to go a day without thinking nasty thoughts about Tim Keller, or John Piper, or Rick Warren, or the Religious Right, or Barack Obama, or Mark Driscoll, or complementarians, or homeschoolers, or TGC, or two kingdom theology, or the missional mindset, or Sovereign Grace, or megachurches, or those prickly Calvinists, or inerrantists, or your denomination, or your fundamentalist upbringing, or the church that fired you, or that one pastor who hurt you, or that one time your ex-friends were mean to you, or that school that made you wear uniforms as a kid, or whatever. Fight the good fight in the day of battle and give the rest over to God. The only thing worse than That Thing you oppose is what you are like when you can’t stop raging against That Thing.

7. Polemicists can forget that there is more to life than controversy. We can get so wrapped up in the latest blog battle or political gaffe or theological misfire by someone we’ve never met that we forget about our own kids, our own church, our own flesh and blood friends and family members. We can forget to0, that the people we are opposing are complex characters, which doesn’t mean we always have to play “nice,” but it does mean we should remember that every human being we interact with is a mess of sins and struggles and hurts and fears and bright spots and dark places. A little dignified respect is in order, for the sake of God’s image if for nothing else. And most crucially, as we look at the fine print of some present controversy may our eyes not become so squint that we can no longer behold the wonders of being God’s children and the beauties of God’s world. Let us not become morose, peevish, and small when we serve such a good God with such a great gospel and such a glorious heaven. A heaven in which Christ will be all in all, and all our polemics will be put to their just and final end.

In the spring of 1969, Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones gave a series of lectures at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia that explored the nature of preaching and made a stirring defense for the centrality of preaching. These lectures were published in March 1972 as Preaching and Preachers. This fortieth anniversary edition is being released both to honor the legacy of Lloyd-Jones and to introduce a new generation to his wisdom and passion. When it came to preaching, the Doctor was unusually gifted, unusually insightful, and unusually opinionated. You’ll find that the message of this book is just as timely and lively today as it was four decades ago.

This new edition, which I edited, contains the original text of the 1972 edition. The content of the original messages has not been altered. But a few other elements have been added that should make this popular book even more accessible.

• Subheadings have been added to aid in reading.
• There are now questions at the close of each chapter for use in group discussion or personal reflection.
• In addition, several contemporary preachers have written essays discussing the impact of this book and the influence Lloyd-Jones has had on their own lives. You’ll find new essays from Bryan Chapell, Mark Dever, Ligon Duncan, Timothy Keller, John Piper, and myself. Our aim is to serve the church by directing a new generation of preachers to this deserving classic.

I know of no other book on preaching that will motivate you to preach like this one will. Pastors will rediscover the romance of preaching. Christians in general will be better equipped to understand the preaching task and why it must have pride of place in the church’s ministry. I love this book because I believe God can use it to make better preachers and encourage better preaching. There is no more vital task. For as the pulpit goes, so goes the church.

This post is adapted from my “Note from the Editor.”

In recent years, several self-proclaimed evangelicals, or those associated with evangelical institutions, have called into question the historicity of Adam and Eve. It is said that because of genomic research we can no longer believe in a first man called Adam from whom the entire human race has descended.

I’ll point to some books at the end which deal with the science end of the question, but the most important question is what does the Bible teach. Without detailing a complete answer to that question, let me suggest ten reasons why we should believe that Adam was a true historical person and the first human being.

1. The Bible does not put an artificial wedge between history and theology. Of course, Genesis is not a history textbook or a science textbook, but that is far from saying we ought to separate the theological wheat from the historical chaff. Such a division owes to the Enlightenment more than the Bible.

2. The biblical story of creation is meant to supplant other ancient creation stories more than imitate them. Moses wants to show God’s people “this is how things really happened.” The Pentateuch is full of warnings against compromise with the pagan culture. It would be surprising, then, for Genesis to start with one more mythical account of creation like the rest of the ANE.

3. The opening chapters of Genesis are stylized, but they show no signs of being poetry. Compare Genesis 1 with Psalm 104, for example, and you’ll see how different these texts are. It’s simply not accurate to call Genesis poetry. And even if it were, who says poetry has to be less historically accurate?

4. There is a seamless strand of history from Adam in Genesis 2 to Abraham in Genesis 12. You can’t set Genesis 1-11 aside as prehistory, not in the sense of being less than historically true as we normally understand those terms. Moses deliberately connects Abram with all the history that comes before him, all the way back to Adam and Eve in the garden.

5. The genealogies in 1 Chronicles 1 and Luke 3 treat Adam as historical.

6. Paul believed in a historical Adam (Rom. 5:12-21; 1 Cor. 15:21-22, 45-49). Even some revisionists are honest enough to admit this; they simply maintain that Paul (and Luke) were wrong.

7. The weight of the history of interpretation points to the historicity of Adam. The literature of second temple Judaism affirmed an historical Adam. The history of the church’s interpretation also assumes it.

8. Without a common descent we lose any firm basis for believing that all people regardless of race or ethnicity have the same nature, the same inherent dignity, the same image of God, the same sin problem, and that despite our divisions we are all part of the same family coming from the same parents.

9. Without a historical Adam, Paul’s doctrine of original sin and guilt does not hold together.

10. Without a historical Adam, Paul’s doctrine of the second Adam does not hold together.

Christians may disagree on the age of the earth, but whether Adam ever existed is a gospel issue. Tim Keller is right:

[Paul] most definitely wanted to teach us that Adam and Eve were real historical figures. When you refuse to take a biblical author literally when he clearly wants you to do so, you have moved away from the traditional understanding of the biblical authority. . . .If Adam doesn’t exist, Paul’s whole argument—that both sin and grace work ‘covenantally’—falls apart. You can’t say that ‘Paul was a man of his time’ but we can accept his basic teaching about Adam. If you don’t believe what he believes about Adam, you are denying the core of Paul’s teaching. (Christianity Today June 2011)

If you want to read more about the historical Adam debate, check out Did Adam and Eve Really Exist? by C. John Collins.

For more on the relationship between faith and science, you may want to look at one of the following:

• John C. Lennox, God’s Undertake: Has Science Buried God?
• Should Christians Embrace Evolution: Biblical and Scientific Responses, edited by Norman C. Nevin
• God and Evolution, edited by Jay Richards
• Vern S. Poythress, Redeeming Science: A God-Centered Approach
• C. John Collins, Science and Faith: Friend or Foes

Tis the end of the year, the time to reflect on what has been and what may be. For several months I’ve been pondering a post on this thing that’s been called Young, Restless, and Reformed. What’s good? What’s bad? What needs to be celebrated? What needs to addressed?

For starters, it may be time to retire the name. As you may know, “Young, Restless, Reformed” was the title Collin Hansen gave to his Christianity Today article on the first Together for the Gospel conference in 2006. Subsequently, Collin penned a fine book with the same title. I stole the title for my blog (because “DeYoung” fit so nicely into his phrase). To this day I meet people who swear that I wrote the book Young, Restless, and Reformed. Even when I promise them I didn’t, they insist that I must have. Sorry Collin.

I think the phrase was quite clever. It had alliteration. It played off of pop culture (The Young and the Restless). And it captured a mood: young Christians eager to embrace this new found wonder of deep theology about a big, sovereign God. But, over time, people have wondered whether the young are getting older, whether the restless should settle down, and whether Calvinist soteriology is the same as Reformed. So the name doesn’t work for everyone.

More importantly, I’m afraid the label is often used in a way that makes YRR sound like an organized movement with official standards and spokesmen. The Gospel Coalition is an organized movement and it embraces some of the YRR mood, but the two are hardly identical. TGC was started by, and continue to be led by, Don Carson and Tim Keller–wonderful men, and Calvinist in important ways, but not quite young or restless. Likewise, while Together for the Gospel is a gathering place for many who fit the YRR description, it is a biennial event, not a movement. There never was a plan to sign people up for the YRR team or for certain people to speak for the YRR team, let alone that the YRR mood would replace the importance of local churches and specific denominations.

A Convergence and Resurgence

This thing called the New Calvinism or YRR or the Reformed Resurgence is a constellation of factors, personalities, conferences, churches, and movements. In one sense, YRR was simply the realization that a number of different networks or organizations that had existed for many years actually had a lot of important things in common. From Ligonier to Desiring God to 9Marks to the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals to Grace to You to Southern Seminary to Sovereign Grace to Acts 29 brothers discovered there were many reasons to cheer for each other and work together. The rise of the New Calvinism was, in important ways, simply the awareness that there were more evangelical, complementarian Calvinists out there than we knew.

But in another sense, the New Calvinism is new. The “young” in Young, Restless, and Reformed was not a marketing ploy. A new generation of Christians is being nourished by the doctrines of grace. Evangelical seminaries are full of young men passionate about theology, biblical truth, and the glory of God. From blogs to church planting to conferences to book sales to new pastors to new people in our churches, I believe the Spirit really has been at work in our day to give young people a grounding in the deep things of God. Wasn’t it J.I. Packer who said something like: when I started teaching this reformed stuff I spoke to rooms, then I spoke to churches, and now I speak to convention centers. We ought to rejoice in this progress. No doubt, a few have been bandwagon jumpers or groupies. And some others will drop away. But surely we ought to thank God for every pastor, speaker, writer, blogger, publisher, or church member in these days who has grown hungry for the gospel meat of God’s word and eager to share it with the many others who are hungry to feast on the same.

Challenges Ahead

But there are also challenges facing my generation of evangelical Calvinists. And I’m not thinking here of the outside forces that threaten to undermine a biblical understanding of marriage or a high view of Scripture or the uniqueness of Jesus Christ. I’m thinking about issues that need attention (and are receiving attention) in our YRR circles. Let me mention three of these challenges.

1. Ecclesiology. Evangelicals have never been known for their robust theology of the church. Previous centuries could boast of many learned, almost comprehensive volumes, on the polity, powers, and purpose of the church. We could use more of that today (see How Jesus Runs the Church for a good example). The folks at 9Marks have done a lot to expound a practical, theological doctrine of the church. But some of our biggest disagreements have to do with the church: multisite, worship, governance, the place for denomination, the place for parachurch organizations, the place for trans-denominational entities, the role of the church in society, the relationship between the church and the kingdom, the nature of the offices, the role for ordinary means, and the list goes on. Underneath it all is the question of whether the Bible even speaks to most of our church questions. Maybe our ecclessiology is thin because the Bible is very flexible. Or maybe we have more work to do.

2. Missiology. Recently, Tim Keller and Mike Horton have weighed in on how close we are to a consensus on the mission of the church (more specifically, the relationship between church and culture). Greg Gilbert and I have made our pitch for mission as disciple-making. Other disagree. There is still no consensus on how to think through word and deed, gospel proclamation and social transformation, the mission of the church and our individual callings. Whether we can reach a consensus or not, we must search the Scriptures for ourselves and think through our mission strategies, mission priorities, and missions budgets accordingly.

3. Sanctification. Worldliness is one of our “high places.” We are clear on how the gospel can pronounce us holy, less clear on how the gospel can make holy. Even less clear that the gospel requires us to be holy. We could stand to talk less about the particulars of sex and more about the process of sanctification. And how do we become holy? Is it by getting used to our justification? Or is it also by faith in future promises and by God-given effort? What is the relationship between law and gospel? Is there any grace in law? Can we insist on law out of love for grace? How do justification and sanctification relate to each other and how do they both relate to union with Christ?

To be sure, there are other issues that could use more attention: the continuation or cessation of certain spiritual gifts, the historicity of Adam and Eve, and the role of contextualization in an increasingly post-Christian world. I’m sure my list of three reflects my particular interests and discussions at the moment.

What Now?

So what is the way forward? Is there a future for YRR? On the one hand, I don’t really care about the future of a label. But on the other hand, I do pray for the propagation of the good theology, expositional preaching, strong passion, and gospel partnerships that have characterized the best of the New Calvinism. I would hate to see these renewed emphases once again subside, whether because of boredom (“the glory of God is, like, so 2005″), a reverse bandwagon effect (“I like Calvinism until other people did”), or a general disease with anything that smacks of evangelicalism.

That’s why–and this will sound somewhat paradoxical–one of the most important steps forward for YRR is for each of us to go deeper into our own churches and traditions. No movement, let a lone a mood, can sustain lifelong mission, discipleship, and doctrinal commitment. The Baptists should learn to be good Baptists. The Presbyterians should not be ashamed to be Presbyterians. Those in a non-denominational context will have a harder time, but they too should learn to swim in the church’s historic stream of confessions, hymns, polity, and theology.

I’m not suggesting all our churches look more traditional (though some of that wouldn’t be all bad). I am suggesting, however, that it’s better to live in a specific ecclesiastical room instead of in the hallway of evangelicalism. This doesn’t mean for a moment we should avoid trans-denominational ventures like TGC and T4G. I continue to think a lot of good can come from the conferences, the resources, and the friendships that these groups foster. But we should read deeply into our tradition, not just broadly across the current spectrum of well-known authors. We need to learn to be good churchmen, investing time in the committees, assemblies, and machinery of the church. We need to publicly celebrate and defend important doctrinal distinctives (e.g., baptism, the millennium, liturgical norms) even as we love and respect those who disagree. We should delight in our own histories and confessions, while still rejoicing that our different vehicles are ultimately powered by the same engines of the Christian faith–justification, the authority of Scripture, substitutionary atonement, and the glory of our sovereign God.

Let’s dream big and labor small. The work God is doing to sharpen the theology, fire the passion, inspire the minds, and join the gospel hearts in this generation will be better and stronger as we go deeper down and bloom where we’re planted.

Greg and I would like to respond to Ed Stetzer’s thoughtful review of our book. It will be helpful to read his review along with our response. More importantly, we encourage you to read the book for yourself and not assume you have the book pegged apart from reading it.

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When we first began to write What Is the Mission of the Church? Making Sense of Social Justice, Shalom, and the Great Commission (WTS), we figured it would kick up some dust.  This question of what the church is sent into the world to accomplish is not only enormously complex, but it is also deeply felt.  People have strong emotions about it, and rightly so. We’ve already taken time to address the “nagging questions” posed by our friend Trevin Wax. We know that others have posted reviews of the book (sometimes multi-part, often critical). Unfortunately, we can’t respond to every critique that may arise.

We think it is important, however, to post a substantive response to Ed Stetzer’s lengthy review in the latest issue of Themelios.  Neither of us knows Stetzer well (though we have met him), but we’ve both read his materials and heard him speak over the years. We rejoice that we are on the same team, proclaiming the same gospel, loving the same Church. He is one of the good guys.

Areas of Agreement

We sincerely appreciate Stetzer’s encouragement about the careful exegetical work we tried to do throughout the book.  We understand that he doesn’t agree with all our conclusions.  But it’s our conviction that a careful look at particular texts is one of the things most grievously missing in this conversation about mission.  Much of the conversation seems to float above exegesis, focusing on themes and trajectories of Scripture rather than the details of the actual text. So we are glad that Stetzer is affirming our call for more of that kind of work.

We also are glad that Stetzer perceived our heart for establishing a better footing for the church’s life in the world.  Both of us love the church deeply.  Like Stetzer, we’ve given our lives to vocational ministry, and we are glad to be engaged with him in this work.  There’s a lot at stake in this conversation, and it’s good when brothers in Christ can engage in serious discussion about serious issues.

As a quick side-note, we also appreciate Stetzer’s commendation of our chapter on the Gospel.  In particular, Stetzer cites the wide-angle/zoom lens we advocate in this book, and applauds the “development” that framework represents from Greg’s What Is the Gospel? One minor quibble though: Greg actually published those ideas in the Together for the Gospel book from 2008 (published 2009), and before that in a series of blog posts at 9Marks—a good year-and-a-half before What Is the Gospel? was published.  In fact, though What Is the Gospel? focuses on the zoom lens, if you read it with the fuller picture in mind, you’ll see all those ideas underlying that book, too. Stetzer implies that there has been some development or refinement or improvement in our explanation of the gospel—but in fact, we aren’t saying anything here that we haven’t already laid out.

Responses

Besides that, there are a few other things in Stetzer’s review to which we wanted to respond as well. At times we disagree with his arguments. On other points we agree entirely and are not sure why Stetzer seems to think we don’t.  And then, most importantly, we also wonder if Stetzer hasn’t missed the main problem we’re aiming at in the book.

Love and Good Deeds and the Mission of the Church

Stetzer’s main criticism of What Is the Mission of the Church? is his contention that we “underplay” the importance of good works.  He says that we “equate ‘making disciples’ with evangelism,” and that we “do not adequately acknowledge the role of love and good deeds in commending the gospel to unbelievers.”  Then he makes a strong case that making disciples includes teaching everything Jesus commanded, that the life of disciples will issue in good deeds, and that good deeds extol and commend the gospel.

Conversations about whether something is “underplayed” or not emphasized enough—or acknowledged but not acknowledged adequately—are difficult conversations to have.  The fact is, we agree with most everything Stetzer says about how good deeds function in the Christian life and in the commendation of the gospel, and we say so repeatedly in the book.  For example, Stetzer says that we “underplay” the role of what he calls “secondary ministries” that are not immediately didactic and explicitly gospel-revealing.  But we have an entire section in Chapter 9 explaining how such mercy ministries can function to show God’s love to the community and how they function to further the church’s pursuit of its mission (see also our responses here and here to Trevin’s nagging questions). In another place he says that we don’t “adequately acknowledge” the role of love and good deeds in commending the gospel to unbelievers, but that’s only after saying that we “acknowledge” in a whole section of the book that doing good works will help us win a hearing for the gospel among unbelievers.

We’re not trying to be pedantic here. But it’s not clear to us what might be the difference between acknowledging something and adequately acknowledging it.  The fact is, we agree with Stetzer that good works play a confirming and extoling role with reference to the gospel.  When Jesus says that the world should see our good deeds and glorify our Father in heaven (Matt. 5:16), or when Peter says we should watch our conduct so that the world may see our good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation (1 Peter 2:12), we understand the weight of what they are saying, and nothing we say should be understood as trying to avoid or de-emphasize this important biblical teaching.

Part of the problem, as we’ve mentioned before, is that many Christians do not distinguish between the church as organization and the church as organism (to use Bavinck’s terminology). We tend to think that “church” is basically plural for Christians. But the church as an institution with ordained officers and a ministry of word and sacrament is not equivalent to the individual church members who scatter each week and fulfill their various callings and vocations. Christians may work for fair housing or for better public schools, just as non-Christians may work for the exact same things, but the Church bears the unique responsibility to preach Christ and him crucified. As Michael Horton points out in a recent blog we highly recommend: “If we can distinguish between the church as organization (place) and the church as organism (people), rather than setting them in opposition, then we can avoid the dangers both of ecclesial mission creep and of ignoring our worldly callings.”

Evangelism and “Making Disciples” and “Teaching Everything”

Stetzer (and other critics) point out that the mission of the church includes disciple-making, and that disciple-making is done by “teaching them to obey everything Jesus commanded.” We agree. But strangely, Stetzer says that we “equate ‘making disciples’ with evangelism.”  That’s simply not the case. We are as appalled as anyone by the mechanical decisionism that has marked many evangelical churches over the past few decades.   Over and over in the book, in fact, we say that the mission of the church is “proclaiming the gospel and making disciples.”  At the end of the chapter on the Great Commission, we sum things up by saying that the task of the church is to win people to Christ and build them up in Christ (63).  We also say that the word “teaching” in Matthew 28 “makes clear that Jesus has more in mind than initial evangelism and response.  He wants obedient, mature disciples, not just immediate decisions” (46). We never suggest that disciple-making can be reduced to initial evangelism. We are surprised Stetzer charges us with an error we explicitly disavow.

However, we should probably say something here about the common idea that the church’s work of “making disciples,” that is, “teaching them to obey everything I commanded,” necessarily means that the church itself, as an institution, must provide an example of or model all those things.  Sometimes, of course, that’s true.  As the church loves one another and cares for one another, we are certainly modeling to one another what it means to love and care for others—our families, our neighbors, our co-workers, the needy, and others.  But sometimes the case is made that the command to “teach everything” implies that the church is to be “exampling everything.”  So, the argument runs, if we want Christians to care for the poor, the church as a whole needs to care for the poor.  If we want Christians to feed the hungry, the church needs to feed the hungry in order to provide a model for its members.  But surely that’s too easy a solution.  If you’re talking about a clothes closet or a soup kitchen, that solution works just fine. It makes sense in that particular case.  But considered as a driving principle, the idea that the church “teaching” necessarily includes the church “exampling” just doesn’t work.  You have to ask how far that goes.

For example, must the church, as an institution, be modeling to its members how to make good Christian films?  Must it be providing an example of how to do good Christian art?  How about good Christian cooking or marathon-running? We are not trying to be snarky with these questions. We believe there is a legitimate point to be raised. Must the church as an institution be actively engaged in politics so as to model what Christian civic engagement looks like? Doesn’t it make more sense to say that the church as an institution is to teach Christians what Jesus commanded, and teach his disciples that they are to obey him in every area of their lives, rather than to say that it must provide an example or model obedience in every particular instance?

The Main Thing We Are Seeking to Correct

Put that aside, though.  On the larger point we agree with Stetzer whole-heartedly that love and good deeds play a crucial role in confirming, extolling, and promoting the gospel. We abhor cheap grace.  God forbid we should ever be guilty of giving it aid and comfort in any Christian’s heart. As we state in the first chapter of our book, we do not want Christians to be indifferent toward suffering. We do not want Christians to think evangelism is the only thing that matters. We do not want Christians retreating into holy huddles. We do not want Christians “who risk their lives and sacrifice for the poor and the disadvantaged” to feel like their work only matters if it results in conversion (22). As we say again at the end of the book, “Any book that comes across as suggesting that loving our neighbors is somehow sub-Christian is a very poor book indeed” (231). We believe we are being misunderstood in this regard. Perhaps we were unclear. Perhaps some reviewers are assuming a position we don’t espouse. Perhaps we are misreading our critics’ critiques. In any event, please know that we believe in the indispensability of good deeds and the essential requirement to love our neighbors as ourselves.

But the point of What Is the Mission of the Church? was never to question whether love and good deeds are necessary for Christian obedience or even to question whether they confirm and extol the gospel we preach, and are therefore vitally connected to the mission of proclaiming the gospel and making disciples.  Clearly they are.  Good works of every kind—personal, social, economic, artistic, athletic, cultural—do that kind of work.  That’s not in question for a moment.

The question we are addressing in the book is whether the mission of the church—the thing it is organized and sent into the world to do—is to do those good deeds to the end of making the world a better place.  Is it the church’s mission to do city renewal, to do neighborhood revitalization, to eradicate poverty, to eliminate hunger, to raise the global standard of living?  Of course, we all want to see this happen. But should we always expect to see this happen? Is this why God gathers weak and weary sinners into churches? Is the presence of social problems in a community a sign that the church has been unfaithful to its mission? That’s the direction this discussion of mission often runs. We’ve seen well-meaning evangelical Christians explain church planting initiatives with the language of pulling “the whole community together [to] make a measurable difference.” The expressed desire is to be “agents in improving graduation rates, increasing literacy or lowering unemployment.” They ask, “What if together we could provide tutoring in every school, support services for every fire station, or orientation for every immigrant?” (We’re not making up these quotes.) Obviously, these are fine causes, ones Christians may pursue—and some will be called to pursue—out of love for others. But then again, is this the sort of work we see Jesus engaged in during his ministry? Is it the ministry we see pursued in the book of Acts? It sounds good to say mission is “both-and,” that the church should do these things while still making the gospel central. But churches do not have infinite resources, people, or time. The church cannot do every good thing that could be done. There must be priorities. We argue that the church’s priority—and the grid through which mission endeavors should be evaluated—is teaching others about Christ to the end that they may worship him now and forever.

Just to reiterate, our book is not about whether good deeds commend the preaching of the gospel, and whether therefore they are vitally important to the mission.  It’s a question of whether it’s the church’s mission—its Christ-given orders—to improve the world and make it more livable.  That’s what large numbers of evangelicals seem to think these days.  They talk as if Jesus expects them to improve housing options and sanitation in their cities.  They adopt church slogans that call their people to “Change the City and Change the World.”  They publish brochures that say that their churches exist to make their cities livable for all people, that their Sunday morning services happen so that all people—Christian or not—can share their Christ-given gifts with the city, and they invite all people, regardless of faith, to join them in the great work of revitalizing the downtown area.  That’s what too many young Christians today think the church is about. And therefore that’s the main thing we are questioning in What Is the Mission of the Church? and pleading with people to reconsider.

Other Areas of Disagreement

That’s the biggest issue we are trying to address and the biggest disagreement we have with Stetzer’s review. But there are a number of smaller issues too.

Christopher Wright and Humanity and Creation

Stetzer takes issue with our critique of Christopher Wright, arguing that we “misread” Wright when we say that “Wright’s view is that humanity derives our value from being a part of creation” (Stetzer’s words). Wright may have written less than precisely on page 399 of his book, but he says quite clearly that “our own value as human beings begins from the fact that we ourselves are part of the whole creation that God already values and declares to be good. We will have more to say about human life in a moment, but the starting point is that we take our value from the creation of which we are part, not vice versa” [emphasis ours].  As he promises there, Wright does go on to affirm strongly that humanity has unique value in God’s good creation.  But surely it’s not illegitimate to raise concern about the idea that our value as human beings derives from the whole creation of which we are a part. Some Christians talk as if individual human redemption is a smaller subset of larger cosmic renewal, when in fact Scripture teaches that the whole creation longs to obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God (Rom. 8:21). Salvation is universal only because it is first personal.

Is it Our Job or Jesus’ to Do What Adam Failed to Do?

We also disagree with Stetzer’s charge that “creation for [DeYoung and Gilbert] does not serve as a theological starting place for understanding the telos for all of history.”  The basis for that statement seems to be that we don’t connect the creation mandate with the great commission.  In other words, “we do not consider” that “Jesus sends the church to accomplish what Adam, Noah, and Israel failed to do . . .” But it’s not that we don’t consider that connection, or “miss” it.  It’s that we disagree with it.  We don’t think the church is sent to accomplish what Adam failed to accomplish.  We think Jesus did that, and will do it fully and finally at the last day.  Fulfilling Adam’s failed task is not our mission; it’s the mission given and accomplished by Jesus.  We won’t rehash that argument here; we detail it in chapter 8 of our book.

Distilling Theological Building Blocks and Clarifying Categories

At the end of his review, Stetzer dings us for doing missiology in the wrong way. He argues that missiology can’t be done by “distilling theological building blocks,” but is best served by “theological vision.”  We’re not sure what “distilling theological building blocks” means, but we assume it means something like “clarifying theological categories” (as Stetzer puts it). It’s not clear to us how this is much different from Stetzer’s desired approach: a “theological vision of how and why God sends his people into the world on mission for his glory and the good of people of the earth.” This is precisely what we were trying to accomplish in the book. We believe, from our biblical-theological analysis, that God sends his people into the world to be ambassadors of reconciliation that the nations may be called out of darkness into his marvelous light. As a philosophy of missions, this may an incomplete theological vision for Stetzer, but it is a vision nonetheless.

Social Justice and Economics

At the beginning of his review Stetzer offers this assessment of our work: “Nearly every conclusion they draw is based on exegesis, except for their treatment of social justice, where after defining justice biblically, they depend on certain economic theories and the practical principle of ‘moral proximity’ to construct how we should think about this topic.” We are thankful for his initial conclusion, but would like to quibble with a couple other points. For starters, we believe the principle of “moral proximity” is a biblical principle. According to the New Testament we must do good “especially” to the household of faith (Gal. 6:10). We have an even higher responsibility to care for members of our own household (1 Tim. 5:8). In the Old Testament it was never the case that God’s people were equally responsible to meet the needs of everyone.

Regarding “certain economic theories” we do not mean to suggest that Christianity demands support for free market principles, let alone specific views on free trade coffee, socialized medicine, or international aid. In fact, that’s just the point we were trying to make. Many missional Christians passionate about social justice assume that genuine Christian compassion means we ought to favor higher taxes on the rich, government engineered redistribution, and a general disdain for democratic capitalism. We merely wanted to suggest other alternatives that are not incompatible with Christian principles and care for the poor.

Can Ordinary Pastors Do Missiology?

At the risk of sounding defensive, we can’t help but express our disappointment that Stetzer sounded so dismissive of our arguments at times; indeed, even dismissive of our right to make them. For example, Stetzer says that Chris Wright is “one of the few people that they cite, along with Stott and Lyons.”  We’re not sure whether he’s talking there about that one particular chapter on the Bible’s storyline or about our whole book.  If it’s that chapter, we don’t cite Stott in it at all.  If he’s talking about the whole book, we don’t want the impression to be left that we cite a total of three people in the entire thing. A quick check of the General Index shows that we cite dozens of writers, including David Bosch, Victor Hamilton, James Davison Hunter, Tim Keller, Andreas Kӧstenberger, Christopher Little, Reggie McNeal, Peter O’Brien, Eckhard Schnabel, David Sills. We reference many more in the footnotes.

One of the recurring themes in criticism of our book is that we don’t really engage missional thinking. It’s been suggested that we are insular, only talking with and listening to people who think just like us. We set up straw men, are ignorant of what missional Christians think, and may even demonize those who disagree with us. We readily admit it’s possible we have misread the authors we cite. It’s possible we may not have our pulse on the best of missional thinking. But we hope anyone who reads the book carefully will be able to see that we honestly try to interact with people like McNeal, Wright, Bosch, and Stott. We certainly read from many more and, contrary to the assumption of some, we have talked with many people who do not see things the way we do. It’s also worth pointing out that we explicitly state in the introduction that we are not anti-missional, let alone are we trying to condemn what everyone means by the term missional. Our concern is not with a term, but with determining a biblical view of the church’s mission.

If it turns out that we are tilting against windmills and no one believes the things we are arguing against, no one will be happier than the two of us. Whatever embarrassment may come from finding out that no holds the positions we combat will be overcome by delight in discovering that more people agree with us than we thought. But we do not think our concerns are phantom concerns. There are voices calling for the church to work for the redemption of creation, for the shalom of the world, and for the restoration of the cosmos, to the end that we may “[turn] back the hands of time to give the world a glimpse of what the world looked like before sin entered the picture” (The Next Christians, 59).

At times, especially toward the end, Stetzer suggests that we may be out of our depth in tackling this subject. He claims we are going against “the prevailing approach in evangelical missiology” and that “the truth is the reins of the missiological conversation and that task of mission will not be pulled back by the arguments in this book.” He chides us elsewhere with the assertion that “reading a couple dozen books is simply not adequate (or appropriate) to prepare themselves to stand against the careful theological thinking that has contributed to the widening of our understanding of mission.” In his final paragraph Stetzer concludes that our book “will not succeed at its task” because those inclined to like the book will be “the theologically minded who think deeply but engage weakly” and those on the other end of the spectrum “who could benefit from the book will not read it because the authors lack the background and engagement to make the case to the missional and missiological community.”

We’re not sure what to make of this last sentence (the final one of the review). We are both pastors, and both our churches meet right next to university campuses. We talk to real people—on both sides—for whom the matters in our book are seriously important. Perhaps our thinking on the mission of the church has been “not adequate,” and perhaps it is even “not appropriate” for us to think that we as non-scholars are prepared to make a contribution to this discussion. But we would hope that kind of judgment would be handed down on the basis of showing our arguments from the Bible to be wrong, rather than on the basis of pointing out that we are pastors and not missiologists or by implying that we don’t have street cred in missional circles. We pastor churches that engage in significant “missional” efforts in the community from supporting crisis pregnancy centers to providing ESL classes to working with the local Rescue Mission. While we may understand this work differently than some in the missional conversation and we may vet the opportunities through a different grid, our congregations also care about the poor and are devoted to good deeds as Scripture commands.

Conclusion

In the end, we want to thank Ed Stetzer again for honoring our work by providing a lengthy review of our arguments. We have learned from him in the past and we expect to benefit from his expertise for years to come. We actually agree with many of his critiques, because we think they do not fully describe our concerns or positions. Where we disagree on exegetical conclusions or theological distinctions we look forward to continuing to search the Scriptures together. Our hope is that our friends and foes, our sympathizers and those suspicious about us, our associations, or our missional credentials, will still give the book a careful reading and test everything against the pattern and prescriptions laid down in the word of God. We remain convinced that the Great Commission–with its call to proclamation and discple-making–is and must remain the task for which Jesus sends his church into the world.