One of Thomas Jefferson’s most quoted lines is, “I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just; that his justice cannot sleep forever.” All too often, I mutter that line to myself, replacing the word “country” with “church.” I tremble for the evangelical church in America. Were it not for the promises of the Gospel and the faithfulness of our gracious God, I would quake.
I just finished listening to a Christian radio program that featured an interview/debate with the author of a popular-level defense of Calvinism (names withheld to protect the guilty). The show’s host challenged the author on some points, unfortunately for him, the author was more than ready to deal with the challenges. The host could only reply by complaining that the author was going too deep with the text, the Bible wasn’t written for exegetes, but for common men—and true to form, he wouldn’t let his guest respond in a more-than-superficial manner. Discussions of the original languages, sentence structure (even in English) and development of a thought across more than one verse is apparently beyond the grasp of common man. One is reminded of Dave Hunt’s charge that discussing translation issues when in a debate is “elitist.”
Currently, the quick and easy joke on the Internet involves Dr. Dobson’s worry about Sponge-Bob’s sexual orientation. It doesn’t matter how much the people at Focus on the Family protest that such was not the point of his recent remarks, that is what people heard—it’s also what they wanted to hear and what they will hear. Most social conservatives should have learned in 1992 not to mention the name of TV characters while trying to address a serious issue, after the Dan Quayle /Murphy Brown debacle, but apparently that memo didn’t make it to Colorado Springs.
Tim LaHaye, the living embodiment of Ecclesiastes 12:12, is upset with his publisher for daring to publish someone else. Time magazine, Good Morning, America and other media outlets have reported on his tantrum over Tyndale House taking “money we made for them” to promote The Last Disciple by Hank Hanegraaff and Sigmund Brouwer, because it comes from an opposing (yet non-heretical) point of view.
Several writers and websites have decried the “anti-religious” bigotry displayed in The Passion of The Christ not being nominated for a Best-Picture Oscar or Golden Globe award. There are few if any who have stopped to wonder if it had anything to do with the fact that it wasn’t a well made movie—they were probably too busy scanning the pages of Christianity Today for news stories about the legions of new believers pouring into churches as the result that great evangelistic tool.
Meanwhile, we live in a nation where the drive for a totally secular society grows stronger every day. Where our collective moral compass is so out of whack it can’t stop spinning. Where people are scared by the threats that seem to be around us. And we respond with the sort of silliness displayed above. It's like offering a lady pinned in by her steering wheel a PalmPilot brochure to read as she waits for the Jaws of Life. “It’s not much help, but look at all the pretty colors.”
This isn’t to say that the Church shouldn’t address social issues, or television, or Hollywood or anything like that. We are to be in the world, we are to be on Mars Hill—involved in conversation about culture and truth-claims. But we need to do so in a way that isn’t so ripe for ridicule.
In the first half of the 20th century, the media, the government, culture in general listened to the Church. For example, when J. Gresham Machen had something to say about the proposed Department of Education, people listened. His apologetic books received reviews in mainstream press—who would also print works he wrote. His trial, founding of Westminster, and death were items of news—why? Because he was a public figure, he had a serious, thoughtful and thought-provoking message to proclaim to both the Church and society. To the best of my knowledge he never issued a press release about the length of Betty Boop’s skirts, or spoke out against the violence in Popeye.
For too many reasons to guess, that’s not the case anymore. A good deal of it has to with a cultural retreat on the part of the Church—the “don’t polish brass on a sinking ship” mentality of dispensationalism played a significant role in that. But those churches and Christians that didn’t parrot the Scofield Reference Bible shut up, too. By the time that Francis Schaeffer reminded the evangelicals that they needed to pay attention to what was going on around them, Modernism, Post-Modernity and liberalism had overtaken the public consciousness. The ship wasn’t sinking anymore, but it had drifted far off course.
Yet the Church has been given the very words of life. We have been entrusted with the oracles of God. We have the guidance our country needs—we even know what the word “is” means. But we only manage to give out what we can make fit on a bumper sticker or in the outline of a fish on the back of our cars (and who can read them anyway as we zip along at 80 mph?). The salt has all but lost its savor, maybe because it’s been kept in the shaker for too long.
Thom S. Rainer’s too-overlooked book Surprising Insights from the Unchurched gives some very interesting insights. The surveys reported show that it’s not the style of worship, the athletic facilities, the skits or any of the other gimmicks that bring people without a Church background to a particular church—and bring them back as well. It’s the doctrine, the teaching, and the teachers that do the trick. They want our message, they want our truths, our Gospel, and the standards for life that the Church is to give.
Instead of coming up with more ways to package 1 Chronicles 4:10, Christians need to apply their energies to forming well thought-out answers to contemporary issues—and then use their creativity to get those answers distributed, without pandering, dumbing-down, or talking past our audience. This will require work, it will require commitment, and it will take time for us to get it right. As the saying goes, Rome wasn’t built in a day, not even 40 Days of Purpose, and re-establishing credibility and the prophetic voice that the church is called to have will take years.
There are some positive signs—the Christian Schooling and Home Schooling movements are gaining some ground. The children that come from those are more culturally and politically involved than their contemporaries. Assuming the churches they move into as they establish their families and careers can direct their involvement and energies we might be on the right path.
Those of us who aren’t part of that upcoming generation will have to work a little harder; throwing off the inertia we’ve inherited from the last few decades in order to reclaim the lost heritage of centuries past. There are J. Gresham Machens, Jonathan Edwardses, John Miltons, and Billy Grahams lurking in our pews and pulpits, we need to drag them into the spotlight and not let them get distracted by the fluff around them.
The world does still look to the church for answers, for guidance—it still pays attention to what we say (otherwise, how would anyone know about Dobson and LaHaye?). We give them shrill moralism and trivial pursuits in return. The lost and dying world we find ourselves in the midst of deserves better—and our Lord has given us better. We simply must pass it along. They’re intrigued by The DaVinci Code, and yes, a dozen or so refutations of that phenomena have been published; but why not something positive along the same lines?
What about the arts? VeggieTales is inventive and clever, but it's aimed for kids, and can’t give much more than wholesome entertainment. Thomas Kinkade can churn out his paintings of light to the delight of the kitsch-starved throughout the world, but there’s not much contributed to anyone’s thinking by that. Where are the great Christian authors, producing actual literature? Larry Woiwode can’t hold up the legacy by himself.
Jesus Christ once addressed a large number of people (without the benefit of a wireless mic or PowerPoint) and told them, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” The city that is the evangelical church in the United States isn’t hidden—but it’s acting like it is. We need to change that, and we need to change that now.
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