As I recently read through Crossway’s collection of the Letters of Francis Schaeffer, I was struck by how applicable Schaeffer’s insights are today, particularly in regard to evangelical movements, leaders, and doctrine. His counsel deserves to be heeded by those of us in the “gospel-centered” stream of evangelicalism.

With this in mind, I have selected some favorite excerpts from these letters and woven them together creatively. Using Schaeffer’s own words, I am imagining out loud what counsel he might give us today.

What Francis Schaeffer Might Say to the Gospel-Centered Movement Today

1. Make sure your loyalty to Christ supersedes any loyalty you have for the “movement.”

[Brothers and sisters,] I see the need for Christians across the face of the earth who are indeed brothers in Christ, standing on the fundamentals of the faith and separated from unbelief, to come into personal fellowship one with the other to the praise of our Lord. And yet how quickly such a thing can grow into that which is merely cold, formal, and dead. The cry of my heart is that God may have mercy on us.

I increasingly see the dangers involved in organization, and I do think that most of us get the cart before the horse. That is, we organize first and then go forward, rather than growing close to one another through spiritual and personal contacts and then letting whatever organization grow naturally out of that-as the tree puts forth the leaf and then the bud and then the flower as the Lord leads.

I don’t think [that the deeper spiritual walk is] in antithesis to an organization. And yet, I must say that it does seem to me that so often organization becomes a means to an end in itself. So often it takes so much energy to turn over all the machinery that the work never gets finished. And so often we put the machinery in the place of the Holy Spirit, feeling that if we can just get organized enough then the thing is sure to go on and be successful.

Of course, this is all very wrong, and not only wrong but wicked. We must realize that it is only the Holy Spirit who can give the power, and we must realize that the only motivation which pleases our dear Lord is our love for Him. Merely keeping machinery turning, and getting all mixed up in the self-aggrandizement that so often goes with a large organization, completely casts aside this primary motive of love to the Lord and a dependence then on the one source of true Christian power-the Holy Spirit.

The problem is not one of loyalty or lack of loyalty to a “cause” or “movement.” [The problem is that] loyalty to organizations and movements have always tended over time to take the place of loyalty to the person of Christ… We must urge each other not even to give final authority to principles about Christ, but only to the person of Christ.

2. Don’t let your orthodox doctrine be disconnected from a living relationship with the living Christ.

Doctrinal rightness and rightness of ecclesiastical position are important, but only as a starting-point to go on into a living relationship – and not as ends in themselves.

[Take the Reformation, for example.] The Roman Catholic Church had come to teach the wrong doctrines. And I feel that most of the Reformation then let the pendulum swing and thought if only the right doctrines were taught that all would be automatically well. Thus, to a large extent, the Reformation concentrated almost exclusively on the “teaching ministry of the Church.”

In other words almost all the emphasis was placed on teaching the right doctrines. In this I feel the fatal error had already been made. It is not for a moment that we can begin to get anywhere until the right doctrines are taught. But the right doctrines mentally assented to are not an end in themselves, but should only be the vestibule to a personal and loving communion with God.

The danger of orthodoxy, even true orthodoxy, is in falling off the other side of the knife blade: that is, in stating the intellectual position and then placing a period. What we must ask the Lord for is a work of the Spirit . . . to stand on a very thin line: in other words, to state intellectually (as well as understand, though not completely) the intellectual reality of that which God is and what God has revealed in the objectively inspired Bible; and then to live moment by moment in the reality of a restored relationship with the God who is there, and to act in faith upon what we believe in our daily lives.

3. Live in a way that demonstrates the holiness and love of God.

We must exhibit simultaneously the holiness of God and the love of God. Anything else than this simultaneous exhibition presents a caricature of our God to the world rather than showing him forth.

We are in a day when evangelicals tend to let down the absolutes in the Word of God in doctrine and in life, and we must be careful not to contribute to this. On the other hand, we are in a day when other evangelicals are becoming more and more heartless, and we must be careful not to contribute to this as well.

The problem is in being those who insist upon the absolutes of God and yet show forth beauty to the world, which is strangling for the need of both absolutes and beauty. These things are beyond us in our own strength, but not in His strength as we allow Him to bring forth His fruits through us in this sinful and ugly world and generation.

May the Lord lead you that you not deny His existence through lack of faith, nor deny His character in either His holiness or His love.

4. Rely on the Spirit as you grow in your love for God.

[Remember that] the decisions of a growing work demand that the One who directs be constantly at hand.

It brings me increasingly to my knees – to ask that the Holy Spirit may have His way in my life; that I may not think just of justification and then the glories of Heaven (with merely a battle for separation between). [But that I may also think of] all the wonders of the present aspect of my salvation, and that they may be real to me in my life and ministry.

What a wonderful Lord we have, and how glorious it is to indeed have God as our Father, and to be united with Christ, and to be indwelt by the Holy Spirit. Oh, would to God that our ministry could be under His full direction, and in His power without reservation.

God really is there. He really does exist, and He made us for Himself. Knowing that He is there, and therefore that we do not live in a silent universe, changes everything. To know that we can speak and that there is Someone who will answer fills the vacuum of life that would otherwise be present. And then, when we realize His love for us as individuals – that Christ really did die for us as individuals, for us personally – life is entirely different.

You need not be afraid to enjoy God. The beautiful thing is that He uses us, but never in the way a soldier would use a gun only to throw it down and take another. He uses us, but He always fulfills us at the same time.

Whenever I finish a book by James K. A. Smith, I feel encouraged, puzzled, and provoked. Perhaps that’s one reason I continue to read Smith’s books. I like when writers force me to think. Good books shift categories and reframe discussions in ways that shine light on truth from different angles.

Smith’s shortest book to date is Letters to a Young Calvinist: An Invitation to the Reformed Tradition (Brazos, 2010), a collection of letters that Jamie writes to a younger version of himself. The book is designed to respond to the Reformed Resurgence among young people in recent years. Jamie wants to help young Calvinists avoid the pitfalls of Reformed theology and instead embrace the promise of the wider Reformed tradition. And just as I expected when reading Jamie’s work, I was encouraged, puzzled, and provoked.

Encouraged

I’ve counseled lots of guys who (1) grew up in typical evangelical churches, (2) went to college where they asked deep questions about their faith, (3) found in Calvinism some clear, seemingly biblical answers, and (4) came home ready to share their nuggets of wisdom with the rest of their congregation. I could probably put together my own collection of emails I’ve sent off to young Calvinists. (I should say younger Calvinists, since I still fancy myself as young!)

Much of Smith’s book overlaps nicely with the counsel I’ve given others. Most helpful is the warning against the sin of pridefulness. Humility should be the primary Calvinist virtue. Jamie writes:

“How strange that discovering the doctrines of grace should translate into haughty self-confidence and a notable lack of charity.” (xi)

“The way you talk in this most recent letter seems more concerned with pointing out what’s wrong with all the other Christians around you – especially our friends at church. I’ll be honest with you: it sometimes sounds like you think you’ve achieved some new secret knowledge, which somehow gives you license to mock those who don’t have it.” (6)

Right on. The last thing we need is a bunch of neo-Gnostic Calvinists impressed by their ability to read between the lines of Scripture until they can rightly discern all the ways of God.

Particularly helpful in Jamie’s warning against pride is his communal focus. He constantly prods his young Calvinist conversation partner toward the local church. Friends matter. The church matters. The church you grew up in, even if it is decidedly not Calvinistic, is the church God used as the instrument in your life to bring you to faith and shape your Christian character. You were loved into the kingdom. Jamie is right to remind us of our need to serve the church. I especially like this line of advice:

“What should you be doing to become a Reformed theologian? That’s easy: teach third-grade Sunday School.” (30)

Another positive aspect of this book is Jamie’s decision to begin his brief exposition of Reformed theology by emphasizing that everything is a gift, including our existence. “To be is to be graced.” (15) By speaking of grace that “goes all the way down,” he effectively reframes Calvinism as more than the doctrines of election and predestination. Instead, one must adopt a God-centered view of the world that widens the lens of Calvinism to all the earth, not just tulips.

Puzzled

As the book progressed, I found myself scratching my head at times, not quite sure regarding the direction Jamie wanted to take us. For example, in his letters about the wide scope of God’s redemptive work, Jamie writes:

“To say that God is concerned with more than the salvation of individual souls is not to say that he’s interested in less than the salvation of individuals.” (65)

He goes on:

“The you of God’s dealings is always an ‘us’. The gospel is always already a social gospel.” (68)

I think I agree with Jamie here, but I question the language he uses. Jamie prefaces his remarks about corporate salvation by insisting that individual salvation cannot and should not be undermined. I say something almost identical in Counterfeit Gospels.

But I don’t think it’s wise to call this a “social gospel.” Even if Jamie’s point is that God’s salvation incorporates us into the covenant community, the term “social gospel” has too many negative connotations for it to be a helpful description. There’s not enough room in this book for Jamie to further explore what he means here, which is why “social gospel” will throw up unnecessary red flags to conservatives on guard against last century’s liberal “social gospel” theology.

Another point that puzzles me is the way Jamie describes the storyline of the Bible. Granted, he traces the plot line in a way that emphasizes the covenant community (which is the subject of the letter this storyline appears in). But I fear this way of reading the Bible’s story is reductionistic:

The basic lineaments of the narrative are simple and unchanging: the Creator of the universe establishes norms and standards for his creatures (“the law”) and requires them to obey. In the face of their original disobedience, he doesn’t suspend those norms or standards; rather, he keeps calling humanity to that standard while at the same time graciously enacting countermeasures. But the call is the same: humanity, created in God’s image, is called to bear his image as Yahweh’s ambassadors, his vice-regents in the territory of creation, by continuing to unfold and unpack all the potential that has been folded into creation. And he calls us to do that well, in ways that accord with his norms and desire for the final flourishing of his creation “to the praise of his glorious grace” (Eph. 1:6). The core of the covenant remains the same. Unfortunately, our covenantal infidelity also remains constant – until the climax of the covenant when a Son of Mary lives up to the calling on our behalf, and then makes it possible for us, by grace, to live up to the covenant.” (74)

There’s nothing untrue in this summary of the Bible’s plotline. But the emphasis on the creation mandate appears to overshadow and even eclipse the weight of biblical testimony upon how the cross resolves our sin problem. If this is the major plot line of the Bible’s grand narrative, one wonders why so much of the covenant story deals with bloody sacrifices, the temple as the place of God’s presence, and the exile that is only ended when the Jesus – the true Israelite – lives, dies, and rises on our behalf.

Provoked

And then there is the underlying irony of this book that makes it difficult for me to recommend it to my young Calvinist friends. Despite his advocacy for a wider view of Reformed theology, Jamie takes an adversarial stance toward the young, restless, Reformed from the Westminster tradition.

While his desire to widen our view of Reformed theology is admirable (I too prefer the Heidelberg Catechism over Westminster), Jamie jabs at the Calvinists who want to “get people to toe the party line.” Included in this group are the Baptists (like myself) who lean Reformed in certain aspects, and yet who are unashamedly Baptist in ecclesiology.

Jamie wants people to embrace Reformed theology as a full package, which includes infant baptism and Reformed ecclesiology. That simply won’t do for guys like me, and it’s the Reformed principle of sola Scriptura that keeps me from going there. I am beholden – not to Westminster, Heidelberg, or even the Baptist Faith and Message – but to Scripture above all. Jamie would surely agree with this conviction, but then he targets Westminster:

“The Westminster stream diminishes the catholicity of the Reformed tradition, so the ‘Calvinism’ that it articulates is just the sort of slimmed-down, extracted soteriology that can be basically detached and then inserted across an array of denominations.” (61)

The irony here is that – even as he assumes the role of peacemaker and advocate of big-tent Reformed theology – Jamie is actually narrowing “Reformed” in a way that excludes, rather than includes. He criticizes Westminster for diminishing catholicity, when it appears to me that Westminster-influenced Baptists, at least in this instance, have a greater understanding of the catholicity of the Christian church than he does. For all his talk against the party line and drawing lines about who’s in and who’s out, Jamie’s book is – at least at some level – an attempt to draw lines.

Conclusion

Encouraged, puzzled, and provoked. But overall, I believe Letters to a Young Calvinist contains good, pastoral insight into the pitfalls and promise of Reformed theology, even if I disagree with Smith in some of the particulars.

The furor over Rob Bell’s new book, Love Wins, shows no signs of subsiding. The development of the discussion has caused me to reflect on what a fever is and what it represents. Fevers don’t show up without a cause. A high temperature points to a bigger problem. It’s the sign that the immune system has kicked in and is fighting off an infection of some sort.

If we had a thermometer for the evangelical movement, we’d find a raging fever. But some evangelicals are responding to the fever in unhelpful and pastorally-damaging ways.

Response #1: The Fever is the Problem

When bloggers and pastors began responding to the promotional materials for Love Wins, many evangelicals used the occasion to point out their disagreement with the young, restless, and Reformed instead of dealing with the substantive issues Bell’s book brings to the surface. Conservative evangelicals sounded the alarm that Bell’s book was unorthodox, and a number of evangelicals threw stones at the messengers: You’re an alarmist. You’re just a bunch of heresy hunters. You can’t get along with anyone you disagree with.

Imagine being in a crowded building when the fire alarm goes off. Instead of looking for the fire or heading for the exit, everyone stands around the alarm and begins discussing its shortcomings:

“Wow, this alarm sounds so shrill. It hurts my ears. Someone should change the tone!”

“Who pulled this alarm anyway? I don’t smell any smoke. I don’t see a reason for the warning.”

“Well, I can smell smoke, but I’ve got to tell you – these alarms just go looking for smoke. Who do they think they are anyway?”

“Even if you can smell smoke, you shouldn’t sound an alarm until you see the fire for yourself. Silly alarms… so early. I’ll just sit tight and wait until the flames get here.”

A few days ago, I read a blog post in which the author was mourning the fact that we Americans aren’t more like our British brothers when it comes to controversy. Why can’t we keep ourselves from being embroiled in theological controversy? We Americans are the only Christians who feel compelled to join in robust theological debate with the intent to expose heresies.

In other words, fevered discussion of theological truth and error is the problem. The fever is the issue. Why not take a Tylenol and some Dramamine and chill out?

I can immediately think of two reasons to go after the infection. First, the Bible shows us a way of doing theological debate that is anything but sedated. Paul tells the Judaizers to emasculate themselves. John the apostle of love calls everyone who denies Christ’s humanity an antichrist. Jude calls us to defend the faith against those who deny Jesus Christ as our only Master and Lord.

Here’s another reason we shouldn’t just shrug our shoulders and say: “Let’s have a cup of tea and talk it out.” Look where that kind of theological engagement has gotten England. The “everything goes” mentality has robbed the Church of its power and has spawned a radically post-Christian society in which the Church practically has to begin all over again to gain a hearing for the gospel. As one British theologian has joked, “Wherever Paul went, there was a riot. Wherever I go, they serve tea.”

Response #2: The Body is Okay with Infection

The other response from evangelicals that has me scratching my head goes like this: Rob Bell’s universalistic tendencies are nothing new. In fact, we’ve always had a segment of evangelicals who lean in this direction. So let’s not get too worked up about universalism. After all, the denial or redefinition of hell isn’t that big of a deal in the long run.

To be fair, this kind of evangelical isn’t denying that universalism is heterodox. Returning to the sickness metaphor, I believe this group sees universalism as problematic. But the underlying message is this: This problem isn’t life threatening.

I don’t think so. And I don’t think Rob Bell thinks so either.

At the heart of Bell’s book is the issue of what God is like. The denial that God saves us from Himself and His holy, just, and awesome wrath is a denial that goes to the heart of the gospel. This is not a discussion on the level of complementarianism versus egalitarianism, views of the end times, or Calvinism and Arminianism (or any of the other “isms” that fall between the two).

Rob understands the stakes and he makes them clear in his book. He describes the traditional view as toxic. I disagree with his conclusion, but I admire his candor. Rob recognizes how high the stakes are in this debate. Why shouldn’t we?

So the idea that we can move forward in good Christian fellowship, accepting these kinds of views as just one segment of evangelicalism, is hopelessly naive. It assumes that there is still a unified evangel in evangelicalism, something that is simply not true if this kind of teaching passes as evangelical.

Conclusion

Evangelicalism has always been a big tent. The question before us today is, How big can the tent be before it caves in? How big can the tent be before “evangelical” means nothing more than “a professing Christian who is serious about what he/she believes”?

Where do denominations and confessions of faith fit into this picture?

What is the center of evangelical theology? Are there boundaries? If so, where? Who decides?

The situation created by Rob Bell’s book doesn’t answer any of these pressing questions. But the discussion certainly reveals the sickly state of the movement. For the past few weeks, I’ve been grieved by the unfolding of events and the response. At the same time, I’m confident. In every day and every age, Truth wins.

In a recent Q&A with John Piper and Conrad Mbewe, Piper was asked a question about increasing division in evangelicalism between those who are Reformed and those who are not. Toward the end of his answer, Piper makes a good point about how love for the Bible can be a unifying factor for evangelicals who hold differing theological views:

I love this Book. I love this Book way more than the Institutes… or way more than Jonathan Edwards.

An Arminian who is a lover of this Book – and you can smell humility on that guy, an absolute submission to this Book – man, can I go a long way with that guy! I can talk to him all day long.

But if a Calvinist comes along who never quotes this Book, but just quotes Calvin – I don’t want to spend any time with him. I’m not interested. He’s just always blabbering away. He’s read some latest catechism or some latest book, and he’s on to this doctrine or that doctrine… I want to say: “Would you give me a verse?! Give me a verse. I just want to hear God come out of your mouth!”

In that sense, I hope that I’m a winsome person. If an Arminian says, “Look, I think that everything I say is in this Book.” I say: “Me too! Let’s talk! Let’s go to this Book together. Let’s worship the God we see in this Book.” It’s amazing how far you can go with those people.

Piper’s point about love for the Word being a unifying factor for evangelicals is important to note. It shows that the dividing lines in evangelicalism are not merely about particular doctrines (Arminian vs. Calvinist, charismatic vs. cessationist, Baptist vs. Presbyterian, etc.), but about the centrality of the Word.

Plenty of young Reformed guys thrive in non-Reformed churches as long as those churches clearly uphold and passionately proclaim the Word. The best of the young Reformed movement is not concerned with Calvinizing all evangelicals; they’re too busy proclaiming the gospel to the lost. What the young Reformed movement is reacting against is not Arminianism (or non-Calvinism), but a superficial treatment of Scripture that fails to dig deep and grapple with the big questions the Bible raises.

The cover story of this month’s Christianity Today is a lengthy profile of Albert Mohler, president of the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. The story is written by Molly Worthen, a writer and journalist finishing her Ph.D. at Yale. The article covers the history of the Conservative Resurgence in the Southern Baptist Convention as well as Mohler’s influence in the wider world of evangelicalism. After reading the story a few times, I wanted to weigh in with some thoughts.

First, I deplore the way that many evangelicals (particularly those in the conservative circles I run in) belittle Christianity Today. I’ve heard the jokes: Christianity Astray, Capitulation Today etc. Some dismiss CT as if the magazine never takes strong stands based on solid biblical reflection.

I have critiqued CT articles from time to time, but I don’t join the chorus of constant CT-critics. Generally speaking, the issues I sometimes have with CT’s coverage tend to be issues I have with the prevailing sentiments of evangelicalism. CT provides a snapshot of the para-church big-tent wing of evangelicalism, a tent that encompasses Christians with different views on a number of important issues. If I were to agree with everything I read in CT, I would no longer be reading the type of publication that CT seeks to be: an evangelical magazine that speaks from and to village-green evangelicalism.

Enough with that. Now, on to the cover story.

When I first heard about CT doing this profile, I thought, It’s about time! Albert Mohler is highly influential in a number of circles that are, in turn, highly influential for evangelicals. When you put these different circles together, you realize just how much influence Mohler exerts. Three circles stand out:

• The Southern Baptist Convention. (He is a denominational strategist who played an important role in the the Great Commission Resurgence, not to mention the fact that he casts the vision for the Convention’s mother seminary).
• The Religious Right. (Though he eschews the term “culture warrior” and is more nuanced than the typical voices in conservative politics, his cultural analysis is very popular. He has become a sort of spokesman for this wing of evangelical thought.)
• The Reformed Resurgence. (Through his leadership in Together for the Gospel, the Gospel Coalition, and his well-known Reformed theology, he has carved out a role as a guide to young Reformed types seeking church and cultural renewal.)

Looking at Mohler from the perspective of the Reformed Resurgence, the Religious Right, and the Southern Baptist Convention reiterates his status as a mover and shaker for evangelicals. In many ways, he resembles one of his mentors, Carl F.H. Henry. Speaking of Henry, the most ironic part of CT’s cover story is that it paints Mohler as being outside the mainstream of evangelicalism for his complementarian and inerrantist views when, in fact, it is Mohler (and not CT) who is carrying the mantle of former CT editor Carl Henry on these and other issues.

Worthen’s profile of Mohler is not condemnatory. She carefully presents his views on many issues. The best parts of the article are when Worthen is quoting Mohler or summarizing their conversations. She ably describes the building blocks of Mohler’s vision: for Southern Seminary, for the Southern Baptist Convention, for the conservative political movement, etc. Overall, Worthen’s article is neither a hack job nor a puff piece.

That said, Justin Taylor rightly described the article as “condescending.” The tone is negative at times, and Worthen’s condescension comes out in some of the offhanded remarks she makes in her reporting.

For example, when speaking of Southern Seminary’s current theological outlook, Worthen includes a parenthetical remark:

“As proof of the seminary’s current ‘diversity,’ some faculty protest that they are only four-point Calvinists.”

Her sarcasm aside, Worthen fails to understand the administration’s adherence to the Abstract of Principles, which ensures that all faculty fall in line as at least a moderate Calvinist. Her remark assumes that great theological diversity in a faculty is a virtue, whereas Mohler believes it is more virtuous for the faculty to be faithful to the confessional statement of the seminary founders.

Southern Seminary students aren’t portrayed nicely either. She describes the student visitors to Mohler’s personal library as “goggle-eyed” and gullible.

When it comes to Mohler, Worthen conveys respect for his accomplishments, but she wonders out loud if he is the intellectual everyone thinks he is. She writes of his personal library:

“A self-conscious air pervades the library, in the jumble of cultural artifacts intended to convey worldliness; in the shelves lined with a conspicuous number of Great Books, Harvard Classics, and other pre-packaged sets that seem the fruit of a single-minded mission to conquer a body of knowledge, or at least to give that impression.”

So the library may be part of Mohler’s attempt to come off as smart? As if the man, after all of his academic accomplishments, needs a big library to demonstrate his intellectual fortitude?

Later, she goes further, saying that Mohler is not so much an intellectual or theologian as he is an “articulate controversialist.” She trots out two of Mohler’s controversial positions (though it’s hard to imagine that his creationist views are that controversial for evangelicals, most of whom fall squarely into the Answers in Genesis camp and not Biologos). Because of the space she devotes to controversies, Worthen leaves out Mohler’s more important view of  ”theological triage,” a concept that is very influential for conservative evangelicals seeking to uphold sophisticated theological distinctions and yet engage in partnerships with Christians who hold other views.

Worthen’s most perplexing comment is her charge of elitism. She writes:

“Mohler is just as elitist as the moderates of Old Southern: he is certain he has the truth, and those Baptists who protest simply are not initiated into the systematic splendor of Reformed thought.”

It appears that, for Worthen, elitism equals being certain one has the truth. Is that necessarily so? Cannot agnostics be elitist? What about postmodern theologians who revel in uncertainty and easily dismiss the “ultra-rationalistic” theological viewpoints of earlier evangelicals? What about journalists who are certain that certainty equals elitism? If Mohler comes across as an elitist in this article, a closer reading makes Worthen come across even more so.

In the end, Worthen gets a lot of facts and details right, but she puts them together in a way that makes her portrait of Mohler unflattering. Yes, the article could have been worse. But it could have been better too.

Take a look at this excerpt from Matthew Paul Turner’s memoir, Hear No Evil: My Story of Innocence, Music, and the Holy Ghost. Turner relates his journey from a fundamentalist Baptist background to (according to his FaceBook page) Christian universalism. For a while, he claimed to be a Calvinist:

Most people thought I was a fully-fledged Calvinist when I began carrying around a book of Puritan prayers and sayings.

But I wasn’t a full-on Calvinist. At the most, I believed three and a half of the five points to be true. The only time I became a five-point Calvinist was when I went home to Chestertown and my father and I felt like arguing about God’s sovereignty. Those arguments brought out the worst in both of us. Dad turned into the stubborn legalist who had no patience for ideas that differed from his, and I turned into the punk know-it-all son with a religious ax to grind.

I liked being Calvinist because it made me feel controversial and edgy to believe something different than what my parents believed. On those trips home, I felt like I was experiencing my own little Protestant Reformation, hammering various disagreements I had with my past into my parents’ faces.

I think that’s why people like Josiah and me sometimes turned into Calvinists. We could be passive-aggressive toward our parents and our past lives without being considered unchristian. Reformed doctrine offered a different way to think about God. And sometimes different, even when it really isn’t that different, is all we need to make us feel alive, creative, and in control of our own destiny.

Turner is on to something here. There is a tendency in us younger evangelicals to desire “edginess.” It’s not always a matter of Calvinism. Sometimes it comes out in our worship style, our innovative church growth practices, or our dismissal of the Christian Right and embrace of social justice and environmentalism.

But a renewal of evangelicalism will not take place if our desire is to be edgy and controversial for controversy’s sake. Believers on fire for God will indeed be “radical,” “edgy,” “subversive” (I like that last word especially!), but lasting change will elude us if our desire for edginess and subversive living becomes an end in itself.

We are most different from the world when we are seeking God with all our hearts. Seeking his kingdom and righteousness is what sets us apart from the world.

Let’s avoid the temptation to adopt certain “edgy” beliefs and practices as a way to set ourselves apart from other Christians. Instead, let’s re-focus on living for God’s glory, which will set us apart from the world in the way that truly makes a difference.

Some people do not like to be labeled. And no one likes to be misrepresented.

Some who seem to fit the “Emerging/Emergent” label don’t want to be pigeonholed into one category. Others resist terms like “liberal” and “conservative,” “fundamentalist” and “progressive,” “Calvinist” and ”Non-Calvinist” (or “Anti-Calvinist”!). But even those who don’t mind being called “Emerging” or “Progressive” or  ”Young, Restless, Reformed” (to borrow Collin Hansen’s clever phrase) want their views to be accurately represented.

Last week, Dr. Scot McKnight added a new name to our list – the “NeoReformed.”

Who are the NeoReformed? According to Scot, the NeoReformed represent a particularly aggressive group of people who embrace Reformed theology and demonstrate an attitude of exclusion reminiscent of pre-evangelical Fundamentalism. The NeoReformed see anyone outside of their circle as unfaithful to the gospel and only pseudo-evangelical. Therefore, they exalt peripheral doctrines to “central status” and then ”demonize” others that disagree. 
 
In Scot’s two posts about the rise of the NeoReformed, you will find some “fighting words.” He describes this group as “religious zealots” that are “wounding… evangelicalism.” Scot is not merely describing a particular group of people; he is hoping his readers will actively resist their influence.
 
What are we to make of Scot’s assessment? Here are some thoughts.
 
1. Does Scot exaggerate his case?
 
Yes, I think so. He writes: “When gospel is equated with double predestination, often said in harsh terms, we are seeing a good example of the spirit of a NeoReformed approach.” I have yet to come across anyone who thinks the gospel can be equated with ”double predestination.” 

Neither do I know of any Reformed individuals (whether leaders or followers) who want to put a fence around the evangelical “village green” and kick everyone else to the curb.  

Nor do I think that there is a large number of complementarians out there who view their position as the very center of orthodoxy. (Very important, maybe – but not the center of Christian truth.) 
 
2. Does this movement even exist?
 
Yes. Despite some of the overstated rhetoric employed by Scot McKnight in his blog post, I agree with his main premise.

There are those who equate “Calvinism” and “the Gospel”. I have encountered a good number of people who think this way: if you are less than a five-point Calvinist, you are less faithful to the gospel than the “truly Reformed”. The irony here is that some people who preach justification by faith alone in Jesus wind up making their understanding of the doctrine of justification the basis of justification!

3. Does this movement want to take over evangelicalism and kick everyone else off the “village green?”

Here is where I think Scot is off base. The NeoReformed movement may indeed be a new expression of old-school Fundamentalism. (I am not using the term “fundamentalist” in the best sense of the word, in that it points to fundamental Christian truths. I am speaking of Fundamentalism with a “capital F” – more an attitude, than a belief system.)

But, as I have written elsewhere, the typical “fundamentalist survival mechanism” causes these types of groups to splinter off into smaller and smaller groups, each one enclosed by more narrow parameters than the one that came before it. Once the group finds its identity in what it protests, it eventually goes on to discover less and less important things about which to protest.

The people Scot labels as NeoReformed are not trying to reclaim the title of “evangelical” for themselves. Those who truly fit his description are more interested in protesting evangelicalism in its current form than in saving it.

So… Scot should not worry about being kicked off the village green anytime soon. The NeoFundamentalists are not building fences; they are off to the side of the green holding up protest signs.

4. Is Scot referring to leaders or followers?

Scot has not clearly answered this question. Is he referring to leaders like John Piper and Mark Dever and Ligon Duncan and John MacArthur? Or is he referring to some of their less-than-gracious followers? I am quite sure Scot is referring to certain followers, but I wonder how much blame – if any – he puts on the leaders.

Take John Piper’s response to N.T. Wright for example. Piper’s book is a gracious critique of Wright’s view on justification. Piper clearly states that he does not believe Wright is under the curse of Galatians 1 for preaching another gospel. And yet one can find this very charge leveled at Wright by all sorts of people who might be fans of Piper and other Reformed expositors.

So, yes… some of the NeoReformed practically anathematize Tom Wright and refuse to read his work. But I have yet to find significant leaders of the Reformed movement who treat Wright this carelessly.  

5. Does Scot apply a double standard?

I agree with Scot’s premise regarding the existence of a NeoReformed, NeoFundamentalist strand in some Reformed circles. What puzzles me is why Scot comes down so hard on this particular group for being arrogant when there are other groups on the village green expressing the same attitude.

Just a couple of years ago, many in the Emerging movement were writing as if everything old is passing away and all is becoming new (meaning, “Emergent”). Many of these books could cause one to think that the evangelical green was turning brown. Things were greener on the Emerging side.

Though Scot has rightfully distanced himself from some of the liberal trends of Emergent and rightfully maintained distinctive evangelical beliefs over against the universalistic tendencies of writers like Spencer Burke, he seems to be more worried (at least publicly) about the sinful excesses of the Reformed Resurgence than the flirtations with apostasy among some in the Emerging Church.

It is hard to see how Doug Pagitt, a pastor who denies original sin, holds to an orthodox view of salvation in any way. In many of his public statements and interviews, he comes across as quite arrogant and brash. Yet Scot has not yet (publicly, that is) called him out on these faults.

One of the reasons I enjoy reading Scot McKnight’s blog and books is because of the careful way he seeks to understand different theological groups on their own terms. He has encouraged me to think carefully about Emerging, weighing the strengths and weaknesses of the movement, while avoiding quick judgments. I hope he will extend the same courtesy to some of the people he labels “NeoReformed” (assuming the group in question is open to dialogue!).

Conclusion

I am grieved by arrogance in all its forms (including the arrogance that I see too often at work in my own heart). In my own experience, it has been disheartening to hear a young Calvinist show disdain for a hero like John Wesley. And on the other side, to hear a young Emergent label a popular work of systematic theology as ”a bunch of crap” (he used a harsher word).

There is plenty of arrogance to go around. That is why it is imperative that all Christians everywhere must seek to stay faithful to Scripture, while loving our brothers and sisters in Christ (even when we disagree). Let us stand firm in our convictions, but always with graciousness. Would that we all be known for grace – no matter what our label!

written by Trevin Wax  © 2009 Kingdom People blog

I appreciate Collin Hansen for his book Young, Restless, Reformed, which helped me solidify my thoughts regarding the resurgence of Reformed theology among the younger generation. My celebration and concerns regarding this movement are included in this four-part series – an analysis of the promise and peril of the new Calvinism. Next week, I hope to have some time to post my reflections on the 2008 Together for the Gospel conference.

Reformed Resurgence 1: Calvinist Conversion?

Reformed Resurgence 2: John Piper

Reformed Resurgence 3: Southern Seminary

Reformed Resurgence 4: New Calvinists

Collin Hansen has done an admirable job documenting the rise of Reformed theology among the younger generations. Those who see themselves as part of this movement will read Young, Restless, Reformed with delight. Those who are close to the movement (like myself) will discover reasons to celebrate and reasons to be concerned. Those who stand against the new Calvinism will find plenty of ammunition against the young and restless evangelicals.

I thoroughly enjoyed the chapters that recounted the Calvinism of C.J. Mahaney and Josh Harris. I am not a charismatic in any sense, but I have benefited from the worship music coming from the Sovereign Grace crowd. I read two of C.J.’s books (The Cross-Centered Life and Humility) and thought both of them were good. Then, I met C.J. personally and thought his books were great! Here is a man who lives what he preaches.

I appreciate as well the cautiousness of Mahaney’s charismatic worship. Whereas Piper has learned from Jonathan Edwards about the glory of God, Mahaney has leaned on Edwards for advice in navigating between the unbiblical excesses of many charismatic practices and the charismatic expressions of those gripped by the gospel of grace.

As I closed Young, Restless, Reformed, I found myself celebrating certain aspects of the Reformed Resurgence. I also found myself with a new concerns about the perils that this movement will face. Below are some of my main concerns.

1. Is Together for the Gospel a conference expressing our unity in the gospel of Christ? Or should it rather be called “Together for Calvinism?” After all, every speaker is a five-point Calvinist. Are we “together” and united for Calvinist soteriology or for the gospel of Jesus Christ? Many Calvinists seem to confuse the two. Calvinism is the gospel (or at least the highest expression of the gospel) for many of my Reformed friends. I beg to differ.

2. The Reformed Resurgence, by its very nature, waters down (no pun intended) the importance of baptism, and along with that, other important ecclesiological matters. Michael Horton (professor at Westminster Seminary in California) is quoted at length about the rise of Reformed theology. He is delighted at the rise of Calvinism, but he sees a problem with the lack of ecclesiological unity. Many Baptists would agree with him. Piper’s desire to open church membership to the unbaptized is a case in point. The very fact that some would express an intention to create a “Together for the Gospel” denomination or association underscores the lack of ecclesial accountability to this movement. For the most part, our denominations are with us on the gospel, even if our church people are not 5-point Calvinists.

3. I can see the blogosphere continuing to become a significant shaper of both the good and bad aspects of this movement. Like any medium, blogs can be used in good or bad ways. The danger of blogging is that blogs are, by nature, self-promoting to some extent (and I speak as one who maintains a blog… I am not pointing fingers). Bloggers can also spread divisive rhetoric, underhanded attacks on other believers and foster an atmosphere of rivalry and dissension – often without being held accountable.

4. Several times in Collin’s book, the people being interviewed talk about the fruit that is coming out of the new Calvinism. We’re seeing young people get saved. We’re watching the new Calvinists help serve the poor, work out in the inner cities. Collin seems to argue for the validity of Calvinism on the basis of how it is affecting outreach. Ironically, the Emerging Church does the same thing. Our theology must be right if it’s pushing us into greater discipleship and service! Not necessarily. I believe our actions do back up our theology, but we cannot assume that our fruit necessarily proves the validity of our theological positions. Taken to an extreme, this tendency of Calvinists to point to their fruit as the greatest evidence of the truthfulness of their theology is simply the flip-side of some Church Growth leaders who advocated change based on what seems to be working.

I mentioned yesterday the condescending, dismissive attitude that many of the new Calvinists seem to harbor against their local churches. We should learn from some of the humble Calvinists. C.J. and Joshua model the humility that should be true of all who truly believe in the doctrines of grace. Listen to Josh:

If you really understand Reformed theology, we should all just sit around shaking our heads going, ‘It’s unbelievable. Why would God choose any of us?’ Harris said. ‘You are so amazed by grace, you’re not picking a fight with anyone – you’re just crying tears of amazement that should lead to a heart for lost people, that God does indeed save, when he doesn’t have to save anybody.’ 

May this attitude of humility and grace characterize Christians everywhere, whether or not they consider themselves young, restless, or Reformed.

written by Trevin Wax  © 2008 Kingdom People blog

Continuing our series through Collin Hansen’s Young, Restless, Reformed, we turn to the chapter on Southern Seminary. Provocatively titled “Ground Zero,” Collin’s chapter on SBTS has already ruffled some feathers. The chapter deals with the Reformed Resurgence at Southern through the eyes of three Southern students, seminary president Albert Mohler, and then the backlash against Calvinism evident in the wider Southern Baptist Convention.

Collin describes the Conservative Resurgence at Southern before he shows how the Conservative comeback has morphed into a resurgence of Calvinism across the denomination. He then shows how many Calvinists are in between a rock and a hard place within the SBC. He tells the story of Steve Lawson, whose Dauphin Way Baptist Church in Mobile, Alabama split over Calvinist teaching. He quotes Founders Ministry leader Tom Ascol on the Calvinists being forced into a “no-win” position. Collin does a good job of going back and forth between the opposing Southern Baptist views on Calvinism, moderating fairly between them as he makes his case for the Seminary being “Ground Zero.”

Celebration

Collin rightly notes how the Conservative Resurgence’s emphasis on doctrinal confessions necessarily led back to a resurgence of Calvinism at Southern Seminary. We can celebrate the fact that Southern Baptists are increasingly returning to their confessional heritage. The fact that many young Baptist pastors are reading and learning from our Baptist forefathers should cause us to rejoice. In order to know where we’re going as a Convention, we need to know where we’ve been.

The emphasis on evangelism is encouraging. Collin shows how influential some Reformed authors’ books on missions and evangelism have been. He shows how one Southern student won an evangelism award at Liberty University. He points to the number of Calvinist missionaries who are serving with the International Mission Board and the Calvinistic leanings of many contemporary church planters.

Compare the Southern Seminary of today with the Seminary thirty years ago and the reasons for rejoicing become clear. Southern now hosts a world-renowned faculty of conservative Bible scholars who believe in the inerrancy of Scripture, the fundamental doctrines of the Christian faith, and who sincerely affirm the Abstract of Principles as a confessional guide. Southern has come a long way, and we can rejoice in the fearless leadership of Albert Mohler in guiding the Seminary back to orthodoxy.

Concerns

By only focusing on the Reformed resurgence at Southern, Collin does not do justice to the diversity among Southern’s faculty. I’ve written about the common misconceptions about Southern Seminary elsewhere, but some of the more important facts deserve to be mentioned again. Not one of the deans currently serving at the seminary is a five-point Calvinist. Calvinism is not the main topic of discussion at the seminary among students. Mohler’s focus is the gospel, not Calvinism per se.

Furthermore, the three students Collin highlights were all of Calvinist persuasion before coming to Southern. In other words, they came to Southern because they were Calvinists. They did not become Calvinists because they went to Southern.

Collin devotes several pages to telling Timmy Brister’s story. I sometimes wonder if Timmy Brister and I attend the same seminary. Collin writes about Timmy “giving seminary leaders an earful when they welcome chapel speakers who have elsewhere derided Calvinism.”

It saddens me that for some Southern students, inviting to chapel a Baptist brother with whom we share strong ecclesiological ties, but who doesn’t subscribe to Calvinist soteriology would be more controversial than listening to someone like R.C. Sproul or Ligon Duncan. Where is the ecclesiology in this movement? If we can learn from those who disagree with the Abstract on a doctrine as important as baptism, surely we can learn from someone who disagrees with unconditional election. There’s a double standard at work here. The Calvinists welcome paedobaptists to chapel, overlooking that ecclesiological difference. Yet they protest fellow Baptists who do not toe the line on Calvinism. Personally, I am thankful that Southern Seminary administrators have chosen to welcome a variety of godly Christian men to the pulpit with whom we might strongly disagree on certain issues, but with whom we share a strong commitment to the gospel.

Another concern that rises to the forefront in this chapter is in Steve Lawson’s story about Dauphin Way Baptist Church. Lawson, after two years of preaching at Dauphin Way still describes his former church as having a “biblical literacy” that was “amazingly low. Many people weren’t even bringing Bibles to church.” Two things bother me here: first, that two years into his ministry, Lawson still saw his church as biblically illiterate. Secondly, the ease with which Lawson speaks condescendingly of his former church. 

A common thread that seems to unite both the Emerging Church movement and the “young, restless, Reformed” crowd is that both seem to be most attractive to young, disaffected evangelicals. In other words, the same angst (some may call it “young” or “restless”) that drives one from his theologically-light home church into an “emerging” church is often the same attitude that drives one from his theologically-light home church into the Reformed camp. I cannot help but wonder if pride and elitism forms the foundation for many of the people in both movements.

Some of those quoted in Hansen’s book seem to have adopted a kind of dismissive, condescending attitude toward their home church—churches in which they were loved, heard the gospel preached, were saved, and discipled. Ironically, many of today’s restless Reformed students came to faith in the “biblically illiterate” churches they so quickly criticize. Instead of showing a humble appreciation for the local churches that nurtured them into the faith, some Calvinists return to their churches, armed and ready to “reform” their theology.

I pray that Southern Seminary will continue to be a light in an increasingly dark world. But this will only come about if those of us who believe in God’s unconditional, unmerited grace serve the church in humility. Satan would love nothing more than to have the arrogant snobbery of Old Southern’s liberalism turn into the arrogant snobbery of New Southern’s Calvinism.

Tomorrow, I’ll be back with some final thoughts on the rest of Collin’s book.

written by Trevin Wax  © 2008 Kingdom People blog