What happens when two of the most influential evangelicals of the 20th century don’t see eye to eye on an issue with important theological and practical implications? A public showdown. That’s what happened with John Stott and Billy Graham in the mid 1970′s regarding the role of social ministry in the mission of the church.

The year was 1974.

2500 evangelicals from 150 countries and 135 denominations were in Lausanne, Switzerland for the International Congress on World Evangelization. In his biography of John Stott, Godly Ambition, Alister Chapman describes the background for the confrontation:

The central purpose of the congress was to galvanize evangelicals to finish the task, to ensure that the gospel finally reached every corner of the earth. Its theme, emblazoned above the podium, was “Let the Earth Hear His Voice.”

By the time of Lausanne, Stott had come to the conclusion that God called his people to care about society and politics as well as evangelism. Many at Lausanne agreed with him, especially people from churches associated with the WCC (World Council of Churches), where social and political issues were high priorities. However, the belief that preaching the gospel was all that really mattered was still common, especially in the United States. Talk of social action brought to mind the dreaded social gospel, which many saw as a chief culprit in the theological drift of America’s historic denominations.

At Lausanne, Stott wanted evangelicals to take social action seriously. The twist in Stott’s message to the congress was his argument that the Great Commission itself demanded that Christians pay attention to people’s physical and social needs, as well as their spiritual ones. He did this by focusing not on the standard version of the commission, namely Jesus’ command to go and make disciples of all nations as recorded in Matthew’s gospel, but rather on John’s account of Jesus telling his disciples that as his Father had sent him, so he was sending them. And just as Jesus’ mission had involved caring for people’s bodies, as well as their souls, so should that of the church.

The Lausanne Covenant reflected Stott’s vision. It was primarily focused on evangelism, but included a secondary section on social responsibility. As time went on, however, it became clear that the committee tasked with continuing the work of Lausanne was not fully on board with the Covenant’s inclusion of social ministry.

… Stott discovered that the powers that be in this American-led movement had not really accepted the covenant’s dual emphasis on evangelism and social action… Stott was adamant that Lausanne should be about social action, as well as evangelism. The committee had already been stacked against him, however.

So, as Stott arrived in Mexico City in January 1975 for the first meeting of the continuation committee he knew it would be an uphill battle.

Billy Graham addressed the meeting on the first night. “What I counsel…” he said, “is that we stick strictly to evangelism and missions, while at the same time encouraging others to do the specialized work that God has commissioned the Church to do.”

Stott stayed awake for several hours that night, formulating his response to Graham’s proposal. By morning, he had decided to confront Graham, who was bankrolling the meeting and the movement. As business began, Stott stunned everyone by saying that he would resign from the committee if Graham’s vision for the movement prevailed. Stott demanded that the Lausanne Covenant’s emphasis on the social implications of the gospel be reflected in the organization’s ongoing work. Stott and Graham had known each other since Graham’s crusades in England in the mid-1950′s and they had become personal friends. But Stott’s challenge was still bold.

The committee was shocked. Many in the room disagreed. For them, social concern had occupied just one paragraph of the covenant and little of the congress’s discussions, whereas evangelism had dominated both. Many evangelicals still saw the world very much as Stott had done back int he 1950′s: caring for people’s physical needs was important, but getting them saved was much, much more so. But losing Stott would have been a big blow. Some felt he was blackmailing the committee.

How was this disagreement resolved? It wasn’t. Not totally anyway. Here’s what happened…

In the end, they locked Stott and Peter Wagner, a Fuller Seminary professor who wanted Lausanne to focus on strategies for evangelism, in a room and told them to come up with a compromise. The result was a weak reference to “the total biblical mission of the church” in the committee’s statement of purpose. Graham made sure that his relationship with Stott was not breached, writing to him in April to say that “there is no man that I respect, love, admire and would gladly follow more devotedly than I would you.” It was a mark of Graham’s humility that he did not use his enormous capital to press his point at the meeting at Mexico.

When I think of John Stott and Peter Wagner locked in a room, I only wish they’d locked a tape recorder in there with them. For more information on Stott’s life and ministry, I recommend Godly Ambition by Alister Chapman.

The Great Commission was given to a community.

Western readers have tended to read the Great Commission passages (especially Luke 24 and Matthew 28) in light of the autonomous individual. We interpret the commissioning scenes as tasks assigned to individual Christians.

But a proper focus on the corporate dimension of these accounts helps us understand the commissionings in light of the identity Jesus bestows upon a community.

Jesus does not send a Christian to the nations, but a church.

A “Fulfilling” People

By seeking and saving the lost in His ministry, Jesus has formed a new people, the true Israel, who will finally fulfill God’s purposes in the world, in light of God’s own work in fulfilling the promise He made to Abraham. Jesus sends a community to the world, in fulfillment of his work in Israel.

A Foreshadowed People

The communal witness of the church is foreshadowed and promised in the Old Testament, and it sees its arrival as the Holy Spirit descends to fulfill God’s promise in the New Testament. To interpret the commissioning texts as applying only to individuals is to miss the rich, biblical overtones throughout the Scriptures that envision a community serving as salt of the earth and light of the world.

A Gospel-Formed People

The church is united as a witnessing community, but it’s the gospel we witness to that constitutes our identity. After all, the gospel is centered on the Sent One who witnesses to the Father. The person and work of Christ make possible the existence of this witnessing body.

A God-Exalting People

The terminology of witnesses in Luke 24 likely echoes the Lord’s words to Israel in Isaiah 43:10-12:

“You are My witnesses” – this is the Lord’s declaration – “and My servant whom I have chosen, so that you may know and believe Me and understand that I am He. No god was formed before Me, and there will be none after Me. I, I am Yahweh, and there is no other Savior but Me. I alone declared, saved, and proclaimed – and not some foreign god among you. So you are My witnesses” – this is the Lord’s declaration – “and I am God.” (HCSB)

Don’t miss the high Christology on display here. By adopting the same words of Yahweh to Israel, “You are my witnesses,” Jesus is associating Himself with God, and He is associating his followers with Israel.

The implication is that Jesus is the embodiment of Yahweh and His followers are the true Israel who will finally fulfill the task given to God’s people. Witness flows from knowing Jesus.

A Spirit-Empowered People

There is an eschatological dimension to the corporate nature of the “witnesses.”

It is true that Acts 1:8 focuses on the geographical expansion to the ends of the earth, not the eschatological promise of Christ being with the disciples to “the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). Still, there is a strong element of eschatology in Acts 1:4-8, since Christ’s last words in Acts are preceded by a question from the disciples regarding the timetable of the kingdom’s restoration to Israel. Their desire to know the timing of God’s kingdom coming in its fullness is rooted in Jewish eschatology. When Jesus brushes off their question, He does not do so because it has no validity, but because He desires to focus on what the disciples are to be (and therefore do) in the meantime.

The disciples will indeed be an eschatological people, not because they know the signs and the times, but because they are indwelled by the Spirit who empowers their witness to the ends of the earth. John Stott is right to describe the church as the “pilgrim people of God.”

The corporate witness of the church is missionary in its purpose and eschatological in its framing.

Presence and Proclamation

The most concentrated power of witness is in the corporate, common life of the church united on mission for Christ. The church that is truly “present” in a community will necessarily proclaim the gospel. The communal identity of the church is essential as an undergirding of our proclamation as we seek to fulfill the Great Commission.

You can’t obey Jesus’ command to go and make disciples if you don’t know what Jesus means by “disciple.” And you won’t know what Jesus means by disciple unless you watch the the way He portrayed discipleship in His teaching, particularly in His parables.

What do we find when we examine the portrait of a disciple in Jesus’ parables? A consistent emphasis on the disciple’s need to do two things:

1. Understand the current eschatological moment.
2. Live accordingly.

In other words, discipleship is portrayed in terms of “wisdom,” and wisdom is defined by living in light of “what time it is.”

Take a look at some examples…

The Wise and Foolish Builders (Matthew 7:24-27)

The parable that closes Jesus’ most famous sermon ends with a vision of discipleship that places final judgment front and center.

The contrast between the wise and foolish builders is the climactic finale to Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, because it demonstrates the seriousness of what is at stake. The storm that threatens the two buildings is divine judgment.

Rarely do we begin our explanation of “making disciples” with the idea of final judgment. This element of Jesus’ teaching is often shuffled to the side as an unpopular component of our theological confession. But the parables of Matthew challenge viewing discipleship in these terms: knowing what time it is and bringing one’s life in line with eschatological reality.

Human lives matter. Human choices matter. Eternity hangs in the balance.

The Foolish Bridesmaids (Matthew 25:1-13)

Just as the two builders are contrasted in terms of wisdom and foolishness, the bridesmaids are also contrasted in the same manner.

The disciple of Christ is not the one who self-identifies as a Christian, but the one who is prepared for Christ’s coming. One of the lessons here is that discipleship cannot be summed up in appearances, but in the exercise of wisdom that leads one to live in light of the kingdom of God.

In both stories, judgment exposes foolishness, both the faulty foundation of the foolish builder and the lack of preparation from the foolish bridesmaids. Discipleship is formed and described within the context of eschatological preparation.

The Parable of the Talents (Matt 25:14-30)

A disciple must be a good steward of the gifts of God in the present while waiting for the Master’s return. The disciples commended as “good and faithful servants” are those who live with eschatological anticipation, choosing to invest in ways that maximize the king’s resources. Even though the primary point is stewardship, discipleship is seen through the lens of eschatological anticipation.

The Unmerciful Servant (Matt 18:21-35)

The Parable of the Unmerciful Servant is prompted by Peter’s question to Jesus about how many times he is obligated to forgive someone who wrongs him. Jesus’ reply of “seventy times seven” is not a rhetorical trick, but rather a reference to the end of exile, the “seventy-times-seven” years prophesied in Daniel (9:24-27) before God’s deliverance will take effect.

So, a disciple forgives not only because he has been forgiven, but also because of what time it is. In the eschatological day of jubilee, debts are released and debtors are freed from their burdens. The kingdom changes everything.

New Wine in Old Wineskins (Matt 9:17)

Jesus’ analogy of putting new wine into old wineskins is a reference to the overlap of eras, referring to the coming kingdom which will no longer be contained by the exclusivistic tendencies of God’s chosen people who have lost their saltiness and who have failed to be a light to the nations.

The Faithful Servant (Matt 24:42-51)

Jesus speaks of a faithful servant whose anticipation for his master’s return leads him to alter his priorities. In this analogy, discipleship is not a generic faithfulness to God’s commands, but a specific faithfulness formed by the disciple’s understanding of what time it is and what the future holds. The vision of the future affects the disciple’s actions in the present.

Jesus’ commission isn’t just “go and tell.” First, it’s “go and wait.”

In line with Luke’s emphasis on the person and role of the Holy Spirit, it’s no surprise that the command of Christ in Luke 24 is not to go into the world to make disciples, but rather to go to Jerusalem and wait for the coming of the Spirit. The fact that Jesus’ command before His ascension is “go and wait” rather than “go and tell” underscores the importance of the Holy Spirit’s role in enabling the disciples to live up to the identity Jesus has given them.

What happens if we miss this point?

• We will overestimate the work Christians can do in their own power.
• We downplay the necessity of the Spirit in the work of taking the Gospel to the nations.

The Obligation

Last week, I wrote a blog post pointing out the significance of Jesus’ focus on the identity of witnesses rather than the activity of witnessing. Jesus gives us an identity, not just a task.

Still, it would be a mistake to assume that Christ’s prediction of identity somehow disregards the command of verbal proclamation and witness. The fact that Christ gives the disciples the title “witnesses” assumes that they will, in fact, behave in line with this identity.

A sense of obligation accompanies the prediction.

Imagine a royal family. The father tells his son, “You will be king one day.” This prediction focuses on identity, but it naturally includes certain activities and tasks that will be expected of someone with such an identity, not the least of which includes ruling.

In a similar manner, though the commissioning texts in Luke focus on the identity of witnesses, the fact that Christ expected His followers to engage in activities that demonstrate and prove their identity should not be missed.

The Gift

Here’s the catch. When you turn from the disciples’ identity to their task, don’t forget the power needed for such activity, power that comes from the Spirit.

The identity of witnesses leads to the activity of witnessing, only because this activity is undergirded by the power of the Holy Spirit. The obligation comes with a gift.

The necessity of the Spirit’s power and presence does not come out of nowhere, but is also part of the Old Testament promises.

• Ezekiel 36:25, for example, focuses on the forgiveness God will grant his people, while the very next verse promises a new heart and God’s Spirit who will indwell the believer and cause him to follow God’s ways. 
• Along with the promise of forgiveness of sins in Luke 24:47 comes the promise of the Holy Spirit (v. 49) who enables a relationship with Christ and empowers witnesses to fulfill their mission.
• Not surprisingly, then, in Peter’s sermon at Pentecost, he moves effortlessly from proclaiming forgiveness in Jesus (Acts 2:38) to proclaiming the promise of the Spirit (Acts 2:38‒39).

The promise of God in the Old Testament was that His people would be given new hearts and be empowered for ministry through the person and work of the Spirit.

You Need the Spirit

Church leaders in the West tend to view the growth of the church and the implementation of mission in terms of strategies and methods. The back-and-forth between advocates of missional, incarnational ministry, and attractional ministry underscores the different methods and tools available to church leaders who seek to be faithful to the Great Commission.

While not detracting from the importance of measuring strategies and goals in seeking to fulfill Christ’s commands, we must not lose sight of the fact that far more important than having a plan is relying on a Person.

Both commissioning texts in Luke-Acts focus their attention on the need for the Holy Spirit. Jesus’ command to the disciples to go to Jerusalem and wait for the coming of the Spirit underscores the truth that, apart from supernatural intervention, the disciples are powerless to accomplish the task Jesus has given them.

Likewise today, our reliance on the Holy Spirit can be measured not by the number of books we read and strategies we implement, but by the time and energy we spend in prayer for the Spirit’s power and work to be manifested in our lives. Relying on the Spirit does not negate the importance of planning and prioritizing and strategizing (as is evident in the way the apostles make plans as they take the Gospel to the nations), but it keeps methods and tools in proper perspective.

Conclusion

It has often been said that we set the sail, and God sends the wind. One of the most important ways we can apply the commissioning texts of Luke-Acts is by remembering our utter need for power from on high as we seek to live in light of our identity as Christ’s witnesses.

So, as you go, don’t forget the Gift.

We often think of “witness” as something we do (such as evangelism), rather than something we are.

But in the commissioning scenes in Luke (24:44-48) and Acts (1:4-8), Jesus speaks of the disciples in terms of present reality (“you are My witnesses”) and future identity (“you will be My witnesses”).

What’s the significance of being Christ’s witnesses?

Jesus is the Focus of Our Witness

First, note the emphasis in both accounts on Jesus claiming authority over the disciples’ identities and activities: My witnesses.

This could refer to the fact that the witnesses belong to the Lord —”you are the witnesses who belong to Me.” Or it could mean that the witnesses speak of the Lord in line with their identity —”you are the witnesses that speak of me.”

I’m inclined to go with the latter understanding since Luke 24:44‒48 focuses on bearing witness to all that has been fulfilled in the Old Testament (not to mention the focus in Acts on the expansion of the apostles’ witnessing speech to Jesus).

“Witnessing” is Birthed from Identity

Secondly, note how the emphasis falls on the identity of the disciples as witnesses, not the task of witnessing. The focus on the disciples’ identity doesn’t negate the task of witnessing, of course, but it does remind us that the activity of “witnessing” is birthed from the our identity as “witnesses.”

The prediction of Jesus assumes the task of witnessing, but the fact He focuses on our identity indicates a comprehensive understanding of who disciples are, not just what they do.

The disciples do not become witnesses because they engage in the activity of witnessing; rather, they engage in the activity of witnessing because they are already witnesses.

Michael Goheen writes:

We would be mistaken if we were to think of Jesus’ call to witness as merely one more assignment added to an otherwise full agenda for the people of God. Witness is not one more task among others: Witness defines the role of this community in this era of God’s story and thus defines its very identity. Its eschatological role at this point in history is to make salvation known first to Israel and then to the Gentiles. (A Light to the Nations, 127.)

Witnessing is Comprehensive

Third, Jesus’ commissioning at the end of Luke’s Gospel and at the beginning of Acts underscores the comprehensive nature of being a witness, and in light of these two scenes, we should take into account all that has been said about discipleship in the Gospel of Luke, as well as the activity of the apostles in Acts.

John Polhill explains the link between witnessing and discipleship, particularly in Acts:

In Acts the role of witness is closely linked to that of discipleship. A true disciple is a faithful witness, not only willing to bear testimony to Christ but even to suffer for Him. The word “witness” came in the later church to have just that connotation: a true witness is one who carries his or her testimony to the death. (Acts, 69)

Indicative Before Imperative

So, “you will be My witnesses” is a promise that means we have a comprehensive identity that becomes the defining factor for us as individuals and churches. It covers all aspects of life.

Witnessing cannot be reduced to one aspect of a Christian’s activity. It should be seen as the foundational aspect of a Christian’s identity.

We speak of Christ because we are of Christ.

We witness because He has declared us to be His witnesses.

The indicative precedes the imperative.

Yesterday, I summarized Rodney Stark’s The Rise of Christianity: How the Obscure, Marginal Jesus Movement Became the Dominant Religious Force in the Western World in a Few Centuries, which traces the sociological components that contributed to Christianity’s growth.

Today, we’re looking at what parts of Stark’s analysis may be helpful for church leaders today. The strengths of Stark’s proposal are many. His sociological analysis does not deny or minimize the supernatural elements of Christianity’s explosive growth.

Instead, we ought to see this book as an examination of the means God used to fulfill his purposes. A sociological approach should not be set against a supernatural approach. Understanding these human elements will help us make some points of application for society.

1. Understand that not everything Stark sees would be a worthwhile strategy for Christian growth in the future.

For example, Stark’s assertion that “both Peter and Paul sanctioned marriage between Christians and pagans” (111) is contested by Christian scholars. There is no doubt that Peter and Paul wrote in a way that took into consideration the presence of such marriages, but nowhere do we see such marriages prescribed.

On the contrary, one could argue that the apostles would have counseled against entering such unions. Stark is right that the early Christians displayed high levels of commitment, but it is an overstatement to assume that this commitment “made it safe for them to enter exogamous marriages” (114).

2. Note the correspondence between Christianity’s costly demands and its rapid rise.

Stark writes:

“It would seem that costly demands must always make a religion less attractive. And indeed, the economists’ law of demand predicts just that, other things remaining equal. But it turns out that other things do not remain equal when religions impose these kinds of costs on their members. Costly demands strengthen a religious group by mitigating “free-rider” problems that otherwise lead to low levels of member commitment and participation. Sacrifice and stigma mitigate the free-rider problems faced by religious groups” (177).

Why does Christianity thrive in conditions where there is a social cost to be paid?

First, it makes it harder for people to join the church and adopt Christian belief and practice. “High costs tend to screen out free riders.” Secondly, high costs are likely to increase the level of commitment and participation of those who do join the church (177).

The counterintuitive nature of this analysis is spot on. Far from making Christianity more mainstream and “easier” for people to join, pastors ought to embrace the social cost and demands as one of the most attractive features of the faith.

3. Embrace, don’t evade, the particulars of Christian teaching. 

Christian leaders today can also learn how the central elements of the faith have an inherent attraction to them that should be utilized in our evangelistic witness.

“Central doctrines of Christianity prompted and sustained attractive, liberating, and effective social relations and organizations” (211).

Doctrines such as the inclusive call to salvation for people from every ethnicity ought to be at the forefront of our witness.

Conclusion

The Rise of Christianity is a readable, engaging presentation of the sociological dynamics behind Christianity’s rapid growth. Church leaders who read this book will unlearn some common myths about our movement’s rise.

At the same time, Stark’s analysis provides us with fresh thought about how best to maximize the church’s effectiveness today, as we rely on the Holy Spirit to work through our methods in presenting the gospel message that transforms lives.

The publishing house that gave us John Stott’s Christian Mission in the Modern World (IVP) in 1975 now considers this slim volume to be a “classic;” reading through the book, it is not hard to see why. Stott’s take on the mission of the church is memorable because of his brevity and clarity.

A helpful guide to issues related to Christian engagement of contemporary society, Stott’s work focuses on biblically defining five important words: mission, evangelism, dialogue, salvation, and conversion. Let’s take a brief look at Stott’s work and then examine some of the strengths and weaknesses of his proposal.

Summary

Christian Mission in the Modern World begins with questions every generation must wrestle with:

“What should be the church’s relation to the world? What is a Christian’s responsibility toward his non-Christian relatives, friends, and neighbors, and indeed to the whole non-Christian community?” (19).

In tackling these questions, John Stott turns to a number of important words and seeks to define them biblically.

Mission

Stott begins with “mission.” He contrasts the older view of mission (exclusively evangelistic with mercy ministry or social work relegated to “platform” status for the evangelistic outreach) with the newer, ecumenical view (focused on the creation and development of peace on earth, a model in which the world sets the agenda for the church).

Stott believes both these approaches are deficient, and so he offers a third way. Downplaying the Great Commission text in Matthew 28, Stott lifts up the scene in John 20 where Jesus sends out the disciples in a way that makes Christ’s mission the model of ours:

“He came to serve. He gave himself in selfless service for others, and his service took a wide variety of forms according to men’s needs… He served in deed as well as in word, and it would be impossible in the ministry of Jesus to separate his works from his words… Our mission, like his, is to be one of service” (39).

Stott believes social action is a “partner of evangelism” in that “both are expressions of unfeigned love” (43). The Great Commission to go and make disciples is a more narrow command of Jesus than the Great Commandment to love one’s neighbor.

Therefore, “mission” does not describe everything that God is doing in the world, but rather describes “everything the church is sent into the world to do,” and this necessarily includes mercy ministry, not just gospel proclamation (48).

Evangelism

In defining evangelism, Stott points out wrong turns evangelicals sometimes take in our evangelistic efforts (such as, defining evangelism in terms of the recipients of the gospel, or in terms of results and methods). Instead, evangelism must be defined in terms of proclaiming the message of the gospel.

What is the gospel? At the most fundamental level, “God’s good news is Jesus” (68), but the apostolic presentation of Jesus included five elements: the gospel events, the gospel witnesses, the gospel affirmations, the gospel promises, and the gospel demands.

Evangelism, properly understood, is the Christian’s proclamation of the gospel message, though this proclamation certainly takes into account the Christian’s presence in the world (87).

Dialogue

Next, Stott turns to the question of dialogue, and he addresses concerns that dialogue is a gateway to compromise. Stott recommends dialoguing with those of different faiths or those of no faith because dialogue is the mark of authenticity, humility, integrity, and sensitivity.

Salvation and Conversion

The rest of the book focuses on two important words – salvation and conversion.

In speaking of salvation, Stott concludes that even if the gospel has ramifications for all of society, the kind of salvation described in the Bible “concerns persons rather than structures. It is deliverance from another kind of yoke than political and economic oppression” (142). Stott does not downplay the importance of seeking justice and liberation for the oppressed, and yet he does not consider deliverance from unjust social structures to be “the salvation which Christ died and rose to secure for men” (148).

Regarding conversion, Stott defines the term as “the response which the good news demands and without which salvation cannot be received” (162). The reality of conversion cuts against the kind of syncretism and universalism currently popular among those in Western cultures.

Some Thoughts

John Stott’s stature in evangelical thought and life is well deserved, as his work is almost always biblically sound, mindful of historic and contemporary debates, and positioned in a way that avoids unhelpful extremes.Stott’s legacy could be summed up in the words “biblical” and “balanced,” since his proposals are self-consciously rooted in the text and his recommendations avoid reductionisms that harm the church.

Keeping the many strengths of Stott’s approach in mind, there are places where his proposal on mission could be improved.

Downplaying the Moment?

One area of weakness is in Stott’s treatment of conversion and regeneration. Stott is right to point out the inseparable nature of these two events, regeneration being God’s act and conversion being the human’s response. Though I differ with Stott on the ordo salutis, I agree that salvation begins with God’s initiative and that the events of conversion and regeneration are simultaneous in a temporal sense.

The bigger issue is that Stott denies the human’s subjective experience during the moment of regeneration.

“Regeneration is unconscious, whereas conversion is normally conscious… The actual passage from death to life is not a felt experience… Its consequences, however, are plain” (170-1).

He then adds:

“The reason we may know we are born again is not because we were consciously aware at the time of what was happening, but because we know that our present Christian self-consciousness, or rather God-consciousness, being a mark of spiritual life, must have originated in a spiritual birth” (171).

It is difficult to understand the reason why Stott feels it necessary to separate the experiential aspects of regeneration and conversion if these events are indeed simultaneous. I fear this position downplays the moment of conversion, as is proven by Stott’s next point, in which he describes conversion as “more a process than an event” (171).

It is true that one cannot reduce every Christian conversion to a one-size-fits-all, dramatic event of embracing salvation. Conversion experiences come in all shapes and sizes.

But Stott’s overemphasis on gradual conversion undercuts his earlier insistence that evangelism is primary in the mission of the church. How? By diluting the evangelist’s reasons for issuing the gospel demands to repent and believe at a particular point in time. Downplaying the moment of conversion could lead to an expectation of gradual enlightenment that keeps Christians from urging people to “cross the line” from darkness to light.

Maintaining Evangelistic Priority

A second weakness in Stott’s proposal is the expansion of mission to “everything the church is sent into the world to do” without offering suggestions as to how to keep evangelism at the forefront of our activity.

At a fundamental level, Stott is right in his definition of mission and the primacy he gives evangelism. But when it comes to church practice and the choices of church leaders, there is little here to help us discern the way forward in embracing social ministry as a partner to evangelism while still maintaining evangelistic priority.

Is Stott referring to the mission of the church gathered or the church scattered?

Is he referring to Christians in their individual vocations seeking to be salt and light in the world or is he referring to the church as a corporate witness?

Not only does Stott not answer these questions, but he also muddies the issue considerably by rejecting ulterior (evangelistic) motives in social ministry. He writes:

“To sum up, we are sent into the world, like Jesus, to serve. For this is the natural expression of our love for our neighbors. We love. We go. We serve. And in this we have (or should have) no ulterior motive. True, the gospel lacks visibility if we merely preach it, and lacks credibility if we who preach it are interested only in souls and have no concern about the welfare of people’s bodies, situations and communities. Yet the reason for our acceptance of social responsibility is not primarily in order to give the gospel either a visibility or credibility it would otherwise lack, but rather simple uncomplicated compassion. Love has no need to justify itself. It merely expresses itself in service wherever it sees need” (47-8).

On the one hand, this appeal to compassionate motivation is indeed correct. Christians ought to never see their work in the world as merely a tool for evangelism, as if a lost person is their project.

On the other hand, the implication of this point of view is that the ulterior motive of evangelism necessarily dilutes “simple uncomplicated compassion” and leads to the “smell of hypocrisy” around our philanthropic activities (41).

To this we must ask: What could be more simple and compassionate than serving a person physically with the hopes of also serving them spiritually? Christian compassion must not and cannot be reduced to physical assistance; otherwise, we fail to provide what Stott himself considers to be the “new and urgent Christian dimension” to neighbor-service and neighbor-love (46).

Conclusion

Overall, Christian Mission in the Modern World is a thoughtful, balanced approach to issues related to mission, evangelism, and social work. Though there are places where Stott’s desire for balance could prove problematic in practice, this book is an invaluable introduction to contemporary engagement of our world with the gospel.

There are certain truths about one’s culture that can only be learned from leaving it and looking at it from the outside in. When Lesslie Newbigin, renowned missionary to India, returned home from the mission field, he saw his culture with fresh eyes.

Signs Amid the Rubble: The Purposes of God in Human History (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2003) is a collection of essays drawn from three lecture series. The lectures span Newbigin’s ministry, from the 1941 Bangalore Lectures delivered when Newbigin was only 32 to the 1986 Henry Martyn Lectures, and then his brief address on “gospel and culture” given in Brazil ten years later.

This is a difficult book to review because Newbigin’s essays cover a breadth of topics, and they come at different moments during his lengthy ministry. Rather than treating this as one of Newbigin’s books, we are better off summarizing the book as if they are snapshots of the missionary’s thought at different times in his life.

Newbigin and the Idea of Progress

We begin our summary with Newbigin as a young missionary in 1941, delivering the Bangalore Lectures on the Kingdom of God and the idea of progress. In juxtaposing God’s kingdom with the secular idea of progress, Newbigin prepares to “disentangle and criticize from a Christian point of view” (4) that which Westerners often take for granted: the gradual progress of society.

Newbigin sees the illusion of earthly progress, particularly in the way people tend to define it. The bandwagon mentality causes many to “define what is good as what is in line with the development of society and then proceed to assert that the development of society is in the direction of the good” (14).

Newbigin, however, sees obstacles in the way of true progress because he observes the true state of human affairs and the stubbornness of the human heart. Like a prophet, Newbigin foresees the ugly side of human technology:

“The true reading of history seems to be this, that every new increase of man’s mastery over earth and sea and sky opens up possibilities not only of nobler good, but also of baser and more horrible evil, and that even those movements of social progress which can point to real achievement in the bettering of society have to be put side by side with these equally real movements of degeneration which have sometimes actually arisen out of the same social improvements” (16).

We are right to long for a perfect world, but this paradise will not be brought about by the gradual optimism of secular society. Nor will it be relegated to a quiet, immaterial afterlife for God’s people. Instead, the gospel is “the publication of the divine plan to sum up all things in Christ… The hope set before us in the gospel is fundamentally corporate, not individualistic” (24).

Newbigin’s view of the kingdom of God is shot through with eschatology. He affirms a literal Last Day and chastises those who would spiritualize the event.

“Belief in eschatology without belief in a literal eschaton is like belief in religion without belief in God” (34).

He recognizes the façade of justice if there is no Day of Reckoning:

“If there is really no connection between ought to be and shall be; if, that is, there is no assurance that one day right values will be recognized for what they are and acknowledged: then there are consequences that we must face” (40).

Anticipating the criticism that his view robs our present actions of any worth and value in God’s kingdom, Newbigin argues for a view of the kingdom that invests our good deeds with eternal significance.

“Every faithful act of service, every honest labor to make the world a better place, which seemed to have been forever lost and forgotten in the rubble of history, will be seen on that day to have contributed to the perfect fellowship of God’s Kingdom” (47).

Prayer is envisioned, not as a passive reception of God’s rewards, but as active participation in shaping and fitting the world to receive God’s promises (51).

Newbigin on Evangelism and Pluralism

The next set of lectures in this book represent Newbigin’s mature thought. His 1986 Martyn Lectures address the issue of mission work and the perception of evangelism as intolerant and arrogant.

Newbigin quickly pokes holes in the edifice of ideological pluralism and relativism. “The opinion that doubt is more intellectually respectable than belief is merely one of the prejudices of our culture; it rests upon a confusion of thought,” he writes (64). And against the overly pessimistic epistemology of postmodernism, Newbigin says:

“There is an admirable air of humility about the statement that the truth is much greater than anyone can grasp, but it can be very deceptive when it is used to neutralize any confident affirmation of truth” (65).

Therefore, evangelism is not arrogant or imperialistic.

“It is the necessary sharing of what we have been given, and to withhold it is not merely disobedience and ingratitude to our Savior: it is also betrayal of the trust placed in us for the sake of all those who share our common humanity” (65).

Newbigin sees God’s election, not as an exclusive club designed to receive salvation, but as a missionary community chosen for the sake of the nations. Salvation in this sense is corporate and eschatological.

According to Newbigin, genuine dialogue is made possible not by relativistic affirmations that paper over vital differences, but by participants’ efforts to convince others of the truth as they perceive it (76). This persuasion naturally leads us to the call to conversion, a call that cannot be immobilized by the diversity of human culture. On the contrary, culturally conditioned presentations of the gospel are inevitable. The errors to avoid are under-contextualizing by failing to make the message meaningful in the receptor language or over-contextualizing by losing the distinctiveness of the gospel within the cultural challenges (89-90).

The world is made better, not worse, by evangelism.

“To silence the call to conversion is no service to culture, for the true flowering of the culture is on the farther side of conversion” (94).

Likewise, evangelism leads to cultural improvement because it is accompanied by the signs of the kingdom.

“The announcing of the good news about the Kingdom is empty verbiage if there is nothing happening to make the news credible” (99).

Newbigin on the Gospel and Culture

The final set of essays in this book are taken from Newbigin’s talks on “The Gospel and Culture” in Brazil in 1996. Newbigin defines the gospel as the factual events at the heart of Christianity, events that have the purpose of saving human beings and bringing them into a restored relationship with a holy God (113). Newbigin then discusses the future challenges to gospel proclamation, as he sees the free market and Islam competing with Christianity for human allegiance (119).

Newbigin’s Strengths

Newbigin’s missionary reflections are always worth reading, as his insights offer us a window into our culture that helps us avoid the myopic tendency to read only those who are firmly settled in the same culture and harbor the same outlook on life.

One of the great strengths of his writing is his emphasis on the missionary nature of the church in the world. The church does not exist to affirm and coddle contemporary society but to witness to the gospel in the midst of it.

The power for this witness comes from the heart of the gospel, which Newbigin rightly believes is the substitutionary atonement and the historical resurrection of Christ. On the atonement, Newbigin writes:

“…God punishes sin. That is not an Old Testament doctrine abrogated by the gospel. It is taught by Jesus in the Gospels with an absoluteness that is nowhere exceeded in the Old Testament. But it is just because we know and cannot escape from that fundamental certainty, that the cross is what it is to us, the demonstration that the God against whom we have sinned and who rightly punishes sin, Himself drinks to the very dregs, deeper than even the foulest sinner has to drink, the cup of punishment. The paradox reaches its climax when He whom we know as the Word made flesh cries out “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” God bereft of God that He might save those who have sinned against God. I know it is sheer paradox, but I firmly believe that the heart of the gospel is there, and that if you remove one side of the paradox, and say that in the cross belief in divine punishment was shown to be an error, I think you both undercut all real moral experience and also take the power out of the cross itself” (43).

Newbigin rightly holds together the wrath and love of God in a way that enhances both and results in a call to trust in God’s goodness.

“God’s forgiving love to me in Christ is a sheer marvel that passes all comprehension. Only where we understand His wrath, do we understand the might of His love. It is as we understand His love that we know that His wrath is just” (45).

Newbigin’s Weaknesses

Though Newbigin is strong on the missional role of the church, he skates by the issue of inclusivism by declaring the subject irrelevant to the Bible. In the latter essays, Newbigin believes the question of one’s eternal destiny to be missing the point.

“The urgent question is not: How shall I be saved? But: How shall God’s name be hallowed, His Kingdom come, His will be done on earth as in heaven? The focus is on knowing and doing the truth now, so that we may be partakers of the corporate and cosmic consummation at the end” (71).

It is in separating the salvation of sinners from the hallowing of God’s name that Newbigin takes a significant step in the wrong direction, introducing an unfortunate dichotomy that appears to pit eternal matters over against earthly work.

By refusing to render a verdict on “the ultimate perdition of those who have not explicitly accepted Jesus as Savior” (72), Newbigin undercuts the missionary fervor he would like the see more of in the church. He pleads with Christians to stop debating the fate of unbelievers (74, 120), and instead return to the central motivation of missions: the glory of God. While Newbigin is right in declaring the glory of God as the motivation for missions, he is wrong to see the fate of the unevangelized as somehow disconnected from that purpose.

Conclusion

Signs Amid the Rubble is a thought-provoking work from a missionary-scholar always worth reading. Even with the theological missteps here and there, one senses the seriousness with which Newbigin took the missionary task and the passion he had for seeing those of us in the West awaken to the opportunity before us.

One of the reasons Newbigin is worth reading is the memorable way he articulates truth. I can’t think of a better way to end this review than the way he ended his last lecture, describing the church’s beginning as an “enormous explosion” of joy.

“The resurrection of Jesus was a kind of nuclear explosion which sent out a radioactive cloud, not lethal, but life-giving, and the mission of the church is simply the continuing communication of that joy – joy in the Lord” (121).

Ever notice the dissonance?

The early Christians saw their mission as global in scope, but during his earthly ministry, Jesus explicitly declared his mission to be focused only on Israel (Matt 15:24).

When traced backwards, the flow of universal mission of the early church runs into the rocks of Jesus’ striking particularity. What gives?

Here’s my brief attempt at giving an answer.

Jesus the Nationalist

The Gospels reveal a Jesus focused on Israel. In fact, his ministry appears to be focused so relentlessly on the Jewish people that many scholars have debated whether Jesus was concerned with outsiders at all. When taking into consideration the nations-focused mission of the early church as directed by the risen Jesus that was so prominent in Christian thinking, it is striking to discover that this global impulse appears to be absent from Jesus’ earthly ministry.

Furthermore, the Gospels record Jesus as being up front about his nationalistic intentions. He claimed that his mission was only to the “lost sheep of the house of Israel” (Matt 15:24), a statement made upon his initial refusal of a Gentile woman who asked for healing for her daughter.

It is interesting to note the parallel between the global vision of the risen Jesus as manifested in the actions of the early church and the nationalistic vision of Jesus’ earthly ministry as manifested in the disciples’ avoidance of Gentile towns in favor of “the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt 10:5-6, 23).

Other statements reinforce Jewish priority during the ministry of Jesus, including his decision to choose twelve disciples (corresponding, most likely, to the twelve tribes of Israel) and the fact that the “God of Israel” received the glory when Jesus did engage in brief ministry in Gentile territory (Matt 15:31).

The Wrong Answer

Because of the apparent discrepancy between Jesus’ ministry focus and that of the early church, some scholars assume the evangelists had ulterior motives in the way they portrayed Jesus’ interactions with others.

For example, the Jesus Seminar chooses to pit Mark’s intentions against those of Matthew, postulating that Mark’s account of Jesus’ healing of a Gentile woman’s daughter is meant to justify the church’s Gentile mission, whereas Matthew’s account is “an effort to reinstate a narrower scope for Jesus’ activity.” While it is undeniable that each evangelist chose particular emphases in shaping the Jesus stories, this kind of speculation is wrongheaded. After all, both accounts show Jesus answering the request, and both Gospels also include an emphasis on global mission. (We could make the case that Matthew envisions the Gentile mission even more clearly than Mark does.)

Regardless of how one interprets the evangelists’ different accounts of the same event, it is clear that Jesus’ focus was on reforming Israel, not bringing his kingdom message to the rest of the world. His focus on Israel can be seen in his prophecies and pronouncements of judgment on the nation. Through symbolic, prophetic actions like cursing the fig tree (Mark 11:12-14, 20-25; Matt 21:18-22) and cleansing the temple (Mark 11:15-19; Matt 21:12-17; Luke 19:45-48, John 2:13-16), as well as strong prophetic denunciations (Matthew 24; Mark 13; Luke 21, 13:6-9), Jesus made his particular focus on Israel clear.

Christ’s Mission to Israel for the World

The messianic identity of Jesus, formed and shaped by the Old Testament promises and the Jewish prophets, leads in a direction that simultaneously complicates and resolves the issue. Instead of seeing Jesus’ messianic mindset in terms of either or, one ought to see his mission as to Israel on behalf of the nations. In other words, in narrowing his focus to Israel, Jesus does the work necessary for the entire world to be blessed.

If Jesus saw himself as Israel’s Messiah, the one who will constitute a new Israel, and if he purposefully acted in ways that fulfill the role of the Suffering Servant in Isaiah and the vocation of Israel as the light of the world, then it is no surprise that he would focus his ministry squarely on his Jewish contemporaries.

Jesus’ ministry was to the lost sheep of the house of Israel precisely, because he is the good shepherd come to gather the renewed Israel around himself and to launch their trajectory into the world with the healing grace God always intended to flow through his chosen people. Jesus ministered to the Jews for the Gentiles.

Therefore, we should say the mission of Jesus is first to Israel (through his own ministry) and then to the Gentiles (through the actions of his apostles), but this trajectory should not be reduced merely to salvation-historical terms. Instead, the mission of Jesus to the Gentiles (through his apostles) should be seen as contingent upon the success of his mission to the Jews.

Mission to the nations depends upon Jesus’ accomplishment of his mission to Israel. The particularity of Jesus’ earthly ministry serves the universality of God’s ultimate vision for the world.

Conclusion

Creating too strong a dichotomy between Jesus’ mission to the Jews and the church’s mission to the Gentiles is unhelpful. As the long-awaited Messiah who fulfills Israel’s vocation, Jesus accomplishes the mission of Israel through his own life and work, thereby bringing the blessing of Abraham to the nations, as was promised in the Old Testament.

The mission to the Gentiles was not at the expense of mission to Israel, nor was it merely an extension. Instead, Israel was to be the catalyst through which God would accomplish his promises to the world.

Jesus was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel in order that through his regathering and reconstituting the true Israel, the blessing of salvation would be released to flow from Israel and into all the world, just as God promised in the Old Testament.

Last year, I was honored to contribute an essay to The Mission of God Study Bible - a resource developed by Ed Stetzer and Philip Nation that traces the great themes of redemption through the Scripture, showing us God’s sending nature and our identity as His “sent” people.

On Monday (Jan. 13) at 3:00 p.m. EST, Ed Stetzer will be hosting the Mission of God Study Bible webcast with a number of guests. The mission of God is of great importance for the church today. I love this quote from Calvin Miller (from the Study Bible):

No matter your credentials. All who name the name of Christ have been ordained by the urgency of God’s agenda in a fallen world. Missionaries are not just those special few who have accepted some certificate of some profession. They are not servants of a special calling. Missionaries are all those who have said “yes, Lord!” To say “I believe” is to understand that you have accepted the commission to go into all the world, starting right inside your home, your village, your nation, your world. You have been empowered. Christ has breathed upon you (Jn 20:22). When Christ moves in, you move out. Out where? Out there! Outside your narrow life. Anywhere is the place to start. So start. Seek! Knock! Any door will do (Mt 7:7). You need no grand beginning point.

The webcast can be viewed at lifeway.com/theexchange on Monday at 3:00 EST.