The Most Progressive
I once concluded a tour of several Christian colleges where I had various conversations of a similar ilk. In discussing the church and the relevance of many contemporary expressions of it, I realized on reflection that for many people, words like “history” meant something the individual may have become aware of in just the last two or three weeks. Likewise, “tradition” was an obscure word used to describe things like Thanksgiving, but one that had nothing to do with reality or with everyday life as we had to live it now.
What disturbs me personally--and many I have talked to across the globe--is the growing trend to ignore Christian history, to devalue Scripture, to reframe worship, and to lessen the role of discipleship, holiness, theology, and content. What matters is whether God is “experienced” (something I also seek), whether worship is compelling (a commendable value), and whether people actually come (a valid desire). However, this tendency and practice of avoiding the past is distracting, and I believe, wrong.
Within the mythology of modern and post-modern society is the deep belief that only what works or satisfies in the present is to be allowed. Thus a creeping evolutionary notion is married to an existentialist demand, and then served up with a muddle of therapeutic and marketing requirements, which begins to alter beyond recognition the thing (the Christian faith) that is the target of such enthusiastic revision.
Commenting on what he describes as the breathless pursuit of relevance, Os Guinness writes, “By our uncritical pursuit of relevance we have actually courted irrelevance; by our breathless chase after relevance without a matching commitment to faithfulness, we have become not only unfaithful but irrelevant; by our determined efforts to redefine ourselves in ways that are more compelling to the modern world than are faithful to Christ, we have lost not only our identity but our authority and our relevance. Our crying need is to be faithful as well as relevant.”(1)
Now, please don’t get me wrong. I am not suggesting that we ignore the serious questions and needs on the hearts of people. Nor am I suggesting a return to some older model, defined by the “50’s”, sixteenth-century Geneva, eighteenth-century England, or America in the Great Awakenings. My concern is with an uncritical embrace of ideas and methods that bring with them hidden value orientations and an inherent tendency to redefine the church. Sometimes the changes made come with a price tag that does not reform the church, but which may instead deform it.
I was reminded of this by my wife who sat in on a discussion about learning Scripture. One individual concerned with the other adult’s lack of biblical knowledge suggested this be might remedied by watching Veggie Tales! (Might it also have been possible to suggest reading the book itself?) On another occasion I was taking an elderly guest to church. As we entered, the band launched into a mind-blowingly loud rendition of their latest song. The whole service was styled as a performance with the rock concert serving as the guiding model. My guest was first stunned then shocked. Later, she asked what any of this had to do with Christ. Perhaps her objection could be ascribed to age, style, preference, and culture, but I cannot help but feel it is more than that.
Not all progress is progress, and everything new or novel is not necessarily good. C.S. Lewis referred to ideas that were viewed as “past their sell-by date.” The ingrained belief was that some things were simply outmoded. His friend Owen Barfield responded to him in the following way: Before we judge whether an idea is outmoded or not, we must ask some pertinent questions.
Why did this idea go out of date?
Was the idea ever refuted?
If it was refuted, by whom, where and how conclusively.(2)
Today it is not just ideas, but practices that are viewed as outmoded, and hence irrelevant. We tend to consult the gurus of our time, those with real success portfolios, because we want to have the power of real change. Again, I am not suggesting all things modern, or post-modern, are bad. I am asking us to take a look at the underlying values or transformational factors that we may be unaware of, and which may inadvertently be smuggled in. As Marshall McLuhan suggested in the 1960s, “The medium is the message.” The question we need to ask then is what medium might corrupt, distract, or deform the message?
Art Lindsley quotes an old proverb, “What is true is not new and what is new is not (necessarily) true.” He writes further, “While we can and should unearth new insights into truth, we should be cautious if we start to depart from the ideas believed and taught by Christians throughout history. Perhaps some traditional ideas need to be revised, and we are the ones to do it. However, if we differ greatly from the faithful giants of history, we must stay open to the possibility that it is we, not they, who need correction.”(3)
History and tradition are valuable sources of insight and wisdom on how to live. Indeed, the greatest renewal movements in history came with a respect for the past and a desire to see God work again in a new generation as He had done in an earlier one. Truly, that is an exhortation to exercise due care towards our love of all things new and trendy and to not allow an unbridled enthusiasm for the present to blind us to the givenness and value of the historical Christian faith. In the words of C.S. Lewis, “If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive man.”(4)
Stuart McAllister is vice president of training and special projects at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.
(1) Os Guinness, Prophetic Untimeliness: A Challenge to the Idol of Relevance (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2003), 15.
(2) As told by Art Lindsley in C. S. Lewis’s Case for Christ (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2005), 39.
(3) Ibid., 47.
(4) C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Collier Books, 1960), 36.