The Gospel for Postmoderns?

(Yeah, I know it's been a long while since I wrote something. :-)

If you go back a few decades in most western cultures, there was a time when most people knew something about God and His law. They may not have believed upon Jesus Christ but nevertheless they would tend towards the view that there is a God and would have known something of the Ten Commandments. In that context you could preach the gospel by reminding people of God's law and getting them to see they had broken it. You could then explain how Jesus had perfectly kept God's law and had been crucified for their sins. You could then urge them to repent and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, assuring them that their sins will be forgiven and that they will be saved from eternal damnation (hell). Of course all was not rosy in the church garden, a decline had already begun in the 19th century with the advent of enlightenment thinking which claimed that science had all the answers and that man didn't need God or religion any more. Nevertheless, basic knowledge of the bible was widespread and the gospel could be presented this way.

Today it can no longer be assumed that people have even the most basic bible knowledge. In fact, western culture now seems to generate people who are predisposed to be opposed to Christianity - despite knowing very little about it. The irony is that, at the same time, the enlightenment thinking that led to the decline of traditional western Christianity is increasingly being rejected. God is no longer "dead", contra-Freidrich Nietzsche. Powerful arguments against aggressive opponents of Christianity such as Richard Dawkins are beginning to be raised from non-Christian philosophers. Soon Dawkins and his ilk will be 'dead'. (Unfortunately much of the church, as ever behind the times, doesn't see this so they're still expending their efforts vainly trying to counter Dawkins, disprove evolution and so on. In effect, relying on science instead of the Gospel.)

Though spirituality is good again, the 'god' that now 'reigns' in people's minds is manifold. At the centre, of course, is 'me'. What matters most are my feelings, my wants, my needs and my rights. Materialism, fame, self-gratification and wanton sex are the gods we worship. Just add in a bit of Oprah or some self-help pop-psychology with a hint of eastern mysticism to complete the mix. Relativism and pragmatism (what works for me) is the order of the day. Now spirituality is fine. Just as long as you don't make any exclusive claims of course. So is that it? After thousands of years on the earth, is that the pinacle of man's ability to answer the most fundamental questions like why are we here? or what happens when we die? Seems so!

So just how do we present the gospel in this context? How do we present the gospel in a way which engages with people? In a way which is relevant to the culture? The old ways just don't work. How do we engage with people in a way which isn't going to result in them immediately switching off? I say we need to listen to people, without confronting them, to understand two things:
- why they think Christianity has nothing to say to them, and
- what matters to them.

Increasingly with postmoderns, in understanding why they have dismissed Christianity, we find that the reason given isn't because they think science has disproved Christianity. Rather, they will have fundamental intellectual and philosophical reasons why they have dismissed it. Often, we'll find that what they have dismissed is not the gospel but religion. Religion teaches that we must do good works in order for good to accept us. But the gospel teaches that God accepts us, therefore good works will follow. Religion in effect puts God in your debt, he owes you, whereas, in the gospel, we owe God everything. As a result it is vital to spend time explaining the difference between the gospel and religion.

I hope to explore these issues further and suggest some example ways in which the gospel can be presented to postmoderns in subsequent posts.

The reason for the name

I’m a strange hybrid. Part modern, part post-modern. Depending on whose definition you take I’m a late Boomer or an early Generation X-er. I’m a 60’s child, part rebel part traditionalist. I’m all mixed up for sure. Generally, relativism frustrates me. I need concrete answers. I often feel uncomfortable with ambiguity. Ask me a question and I might ask you to define your terms. Yet, in other ways I feel equally uncomfortable with precision and dogmatism – particularly the sort in the church that says you must believe exactly these things. One thing I have learned for sure: mere knowledge is never going to satisfy the deep longings of my heart. The ‘post-modern’ in me desperately yearns for authenticity and community, to experience God, to taste of His goodness, to be lifted way beyond the plane of mere knowledge. Yet the “enlightenment” side of me needs solid facts. I need to know that my experience is founded on ultimate truth. You could say I am too rational for mysticism and too mystic for rationalism! This is why I have benefited so much from two quite different streams within the church, one old, one new. Though the one that is old is still very much alive today and the one that is new has been around a long time.

The old stream is what we might call classical reformed soteriology in line with the early reformation. On the one hand this rejects what I believe to be the man-centred theology of Arminianism which elevates free will above the sovereignty of God. On the other it rejects the “limited atonement” beloved by many modern, and sadly, aggressive, internet ‘Calvinists’ who would have us proclaim an empty Gospel that would call us to repent and believe not knowing whether or not Christ died for our sins. It is NOT four-point Calvinism as some refer to it. (I suppose we are all prone to assign quick labels to things we don’t understand). This is classical reformed doctrine which can be neatly summarised with the old formula that Christ died sufficiently for all and efficiently for the elect. In one sense the atonement is limited, in another sense it is not but more of that some other time. This ‘stream’ is still alive today and I for one am thankful. It played a part in rescuing me from the clutches of cold hyper-Calvinism.

The new stream, which we might call “gospel-centredness” takes its cue from the likes of Tim Keller, the late Jack Miller and Jerry Bridges. From this I have learned that the gospel is not just the A-B-C of how we enter the kingdom and the thing we proclaim to unbelievers, but is, in fact, the A-Z though which we grow in sanctification. It has helped me understand why I have spent so much of my Christian life basically volatile and unhappy. More of that in due course too.

Of course, the doctrine of sanctification by faith isn’t new. It is a common theme amongst some of the puritans. Its just the terminology and the renewed emphasis that it brings that is new. And it is a much needed antidote to the superficiality and coldness of much of the church today. It can both expose the pride of the Pharisees and self-appointed guardians of orthodoxy on the one hand and lift-up the down-hearted and self-pitying on the other.

These are two recurring themes you will see here. In fact I’m excited about them both. I hope that if you stick around long enough you might catch some of that excitement. Of course, I don’t mean excited for excited sake. My hope is that together we may grow in love for the Lord Jesus Christ to the glory of God.

Size doesn't matter, the Gospel does

Jared Wilson wonders whether a fixation on size is a Texan thing. Interestingly, it would seem he is originally from Texas but has never noticed this before. Over here in the UK we've long had this stereotyped idea of swaggering John Wayne-like Texans in large Stetsons driving Oil Tanker sized cars lighting fat cigars with fifty dollar bills who boast about how big everything is in good ole' Texas :-)
Not sure where we got that idea. Maybe it was from the TV series Dallas. Anyway I wanted to raise a question about what is behind this concern with size and I don't think its a uniquely Texan thing. I've encountered it here in the UK. The numbers may be different (we would probably consider a megachurch to be one with over two hundred people!) but I suggest the underlying cause is the same.

In my opinion the idea that size matters is the product of a combination of poor theology and worldly thinking. Actually the two are closely related. There's an underlying assumption by many that size is an indication of God's blessing yet I can think of no biblical justification for that. Rather I suggest it is the product of our materialistic, performance oriented, western cultures. Now it is true that quality attracts, but the question is what are the criteria used to define quality? Good music? A great show? Some guy oozing charisma who tells funny stories and makes you feel better about yourself?

What we really need is deep, heartfelt repentance over sin and godly, Christ-exalting people who are patient and joyful in affliction. And when I say repentance I'm not talking external law keeping here. I mean the secrets of our hearts, those inward motives that we try to dress up as doing the Lord's business when its really all about making us feel good about ourselves. This isn't a popular idea in this day of sugar-coated superficiality on the one hand and cold, dead orthodoxy on the other. One thing such talk doesn't do, with one or two notable exceptions, is attract large numbers. Sadly some churches don't even mention the Word sin let alone talk about our inward desires.

What I think is really behind this fixation with size is the idolatrous belief that "I'm part of something big therefore I matter". It doesn't matter how much we might say that our trust is in Christ alone our sinful hearts will constantly be looking elsewhere for something to appease our consciences, inflate our egos and satisfy the longings of our hearts. Longings that only Christ will satisfy. What we desparately need are churches who will expose our idolatrous hearts and patiently, consistently, lovingly and constantly point us back to the cross as the only thing worth boasting about.