79 Sermon Illustrations on Postmodernism

Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. –Hebrews 11:1

Did you hear the story about the dead postmodern paratrooper? The last words his jump partner heard him say as he hurtled past were: “How can I know for sure it’s gonna open?” He failed to take his buddy’s hurried advice, “You gotta trust it!”

Postmodernism, today’s fad philosophy, has lots of interesting things to say about the meaning and existence of truth. In particular, postmodernism points out that the human mind is affected by emotions, by the way we were raised, by the community we live in, by faulty senses, and by the fact that the words of human language are not precise enough to be perfect carriers of the truth. Therefore, they say it’s impossible to prove that we speak or hear the truth.

There’s some truth in that. But the trouble is that we have to put our faith in a jillion things every day–proven true or not! Every day when I get to work, I trust that my office chair is going to hold me up. I could debate forever about the accuracy of the ergonomic engineer’s plan for my chair, but if I’m going to get any work done I’ve got to sit down and fire up my computer. Then I discover the truth: the chair holds!

Alister McGrath, Christian research lecturer at Oxford, says this about the fallibility of words in reference to something much more important — the character and nature of God: “Even though human words are inadequate to do justice to the wonder and majesty of God, they are nevertheless able to point to Him. Inadequacy does not imply unreliability”

Language is probably not capable of revealing perfect truth. But if we’re going to live and act, we have to trust that some words, some people, and some things are reliable. When it comes to daily living, postmodern philosophy doesn’t cut it. Eventually you have to quit debating and make your choices. And it is when you make your choices that truth becomes evident.

If you don’t believe me, ask people who have trusted Christ if they believe they made a mistake. — DO

REFLECTION

• How do I determine what or whom I can trust?

• Has the Bible shown itself to be a reliable source of truth to me?

Truth is meaningless without trust.

Have you ever had a conversation with a friend and you asserted what you thought was a universally true statement only to hear your friend reply, “I can see how that might be true from your perspective. But it isn’t true from mine.” Or perhaps you’ve offered this response yourself. I would suggest that truth is independent of me and my perspective. But even as I make the suggestion, I can imagine someone retorting, “Exactly! But that’s your perspective.”

Richard Rorty, a popular defender of the postmodern view of truth, describes truth as whatever we can get our friends, our colleagues, or our community to agree to. He argues that saying that some statement is true is really only another way of saying that it is a useful statement for our community. Hence, Rorty says that when people say “I can see how that might be true from your perspective, but it isn’t true from mine,” they mean to assert that what you said was useful for you, but not for me.

Why does Rorty and others think about truth in this way? In his own words, “The world does not speak. Only we do. The world can, once we have programmed ourselves with a language, cause us to hold beliefs. But it cannot propose a language for us to speak. Only other human beings can do that... [L]anguages are made rather than found, and... truth is a property of linguistic entities, of sentences.”

His description is not unique to postmodernism, but in a world that is much ado about preference it is easily embraced. Rorty is essentially saying that if language is something we as humans have created, then truth is something we have created as well. Those sentences, principles, and ideas we thought were true are nothing more than sentences, principles, and ideas that are useful to our community.

Ironically, if Rorty’s views are correct, then his views themselves are not to be taken as true or false but as either useful or not useful. So, as the criticism goes, why should I accept his views if I don’t find them useful? His own assertion applied to his own assertion makes his words void of meaning.

But I believe there are further reasons not to accept this view. At the heart of his explanation is the unjustified assumption that there is no God. But how can we make this absolute statement if we are denying absolutes in the first place? Moreover, are we not intrinsically aware that there is much in the world that transcends language? Is there no truth you can think of that remains true whether or not you articulate it? Reality does not change because we rename things.

In the pursuit of truth, intent is always prior to content. The love of truth and the willingness to submit to its demands is the first step. Rorty puts the belief in truth on trial precisely because he wants to claim there is no judge -- and we are the judge -- all in the same breath.

On the contrary, when Jesus claimed that all “who are on the side of truth” listen to him [John 18:37], he was not merely establishing the existence of truth, but that he is the embodiment of it. Far from being something we create, he was saying that truth is identical to himself. Truth, he was claiming, is a person -- not merely just another perspective. It is knowable, real, and unchanging because it comes from the only Being who is uncreated. To reject him, therefore, is to choose to govern one’s self with a lie. In this sense, truth is intrinsically personal and immensely useful -- and thankfully, it is not ours to create.

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Copyright © 2007 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

A person recently told us a story that was both fascinating — and disturbing. Her name is Tessa Littlejohn. She is a flight attendant who lives in Ontario. Tessa recently worked with another flight attendant from Quebec, whom I will call Cecile. As they worked, Cecile told Tessa all about her boyfriend, Gerard. Cecile was wearing a ring on her left hand, so Tessa asked her if she was engaged. Cecile blushed. “Actually,” she said, “Gerard and I have been married for two years.”

Then why on earth was she calling Gerard her “boyfriend”? Because, Cecile explained, no one in Quebec gets married anymore. If she referred to Gerard as her husband, Cecile said, “I would sound like an old lady. It would feel too weird.”

Tessa was not too surprised at Cecile’s reasoning, but it did make her think about what happens when a society abandons God and His laws.

For Quebec, this abandonment began during what became known as the Quiet Revolution. As Richard Neuhaus writes in the March issue of First Things, up until 1960, when Quebec’s Liberal Party took power, there was an almost total synthesis of Church, culture, and state; the Catholic Church provided nearly all educational and social services.

As American scholar Charles Doran notes, it was Catholic clergy who helped people survive the hardships of a new and rough land, and “provided the social cement for the colony.” But in the 1960s, Canadians abandoned their Judeo-Christian values in favor of modernity. And as Doran notes, the Catholic clergy “became an embarrassing reminder of a past that everyone wanted to forget.” Tragically, the Church willingly cooperated in its own retreat.

The predictable result of this revolution was that the role of the state became greatly enlarged, because the state alone was capable of implementing desired social changes. Today, nearly five decades later, the churches largely stand empty — and the consequences of modernity are on stark display.

Of all the Canadian provinces, Quebec has the lowest marriage rate. It also has the lowest birth rate — the province is literally dying out. Quebec’s abortion rate is higher than all other Canadian provinces, with 30 percent of all pregnancies ending in abortion! Quebec leads the other provinces in divorce and suicide rates as well. And its chief city, Montreal, has become a notorious haven for pedophiles, according to Canada’s leading news magazine.

As Tessa notes, “Society is collapsing; they are on the cusp of a crisis that is only mitigated by the fact that they are part of a larger country, which is not at the same point of moral failure. If you want to know what happens to society when it rejects God,” Tessa concludes, “look at Quebec.”

What is happening to French Canadians is tragic — and it should serve as a warning to those of us living south of the border. Religious faith and practice cannot be cut adrift from a healthy society — not if the society, that is, wants to stay healthy.

Americans have already traveled perilously far down this same road, and suffer many of the social traumas Quebecers do. The question is: Are we going to continue down this same, destructive road — or change course? Will we learn from the disastrous lab experiment conducted to the north — or copy it?

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Copyright (c) 2008 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint with Chuck Colson" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

A few months ago, a group called Humanists International updated their “defining statement of World Humanism.” Though they explicitly state that the statement “is not a creed,” it is — and it serves as an update to what’s known as “the Amsterdam Declaration,” the official statement of World Humanism, last updated in 2002. In that edition, the World Humanist Congress stated that “the solutions to the world’s problems lie in human thought and action.”

While that is an interesting claim to make only a year after the “human thought and action” on display in the chaos and tragedy of 9/11, secular humanists interpreted those events in defense of their creed. According to the 2002 statement, “Humanism is a response to the widespread demand for an alternative to dogmatic religion.” In other words, some people become terrorists because they’re religious, not because they’re human. That argument was persuasive at the time. In fact, in the years following 9/11, secular humanism seemed to get a second wind in Western culture, as evidenced by the rise of the so-called “New Atheism.”

However, advocates for secular humanism have always resembled the cynical onlookers portrayed by Friedrich Nietzsche in his parable of “the Madman.” When “the madman” declares “I seek God! I seek God!” the onlookers mock him. “Has God gotten lost, like a child?” they ask. “Has he gone on a voyage?” After all, this was the end of the 19th century. Who believed in God anymore?

What the mockers missed, Nietzsche’s parable taught, is that even as the secular intellectuals of his day mocked belief in God, they were holding on for dear life to the fruits of the faith they disdained. In fact, they seemed blissfully unaware of what untethering the world from God would entail, both for individuals and for society.

No longer could social norms like human rights, scientific progress, or the preference of kindness over cruelty be justified, much less maintained. After all, only a belief in a particular type of Creator could ground such notions. “What were we doing when we unchained this earth from its sun?” asked Nietzsche.

The secular humanism of the 20th century has been in steep decline for decades now, overwhelmed by a worldview that holds that there is no universal, discernible story of reality that can be known, that we’re all trapped in our own people groups and in our own understanding of reality that is defined by some sort of inner sense of knowledge. In such a context, reading the Amsterdam Statement seems almost quaint, like watching an episode of Little House on the Prairie or some other show committed to showing human goodness in a time gone by. Complete sections of the statement are written as if the 20th century never happened

We are convinced that the solutions to the world’s problems lie in human reason, and action. We advocate the application of science and free inquiry to these problems, remembering that while science provides the means, human values must define the ends. We seek to use science and technology to enhance human well-being, and never callously or destructively.

Other sections claim all that God brings to the world, while rejecting God Himself.

We value all sources of individual joy and fulfillment that harm no other, and we believe that ... ethical living is a lifelong undertaking.

We therefore treasure artistic creativity and imagination and recognise the transforming power of literature, music, and the visual and performing arts. We cherish the beauty of the natural world and its potential to bring wonder, awe, and tranquility. ... We esteem the quest for knowledge, and the humility, wisdom, and insight it bestows.

One wonders what the Madman would have to say to this.

From its very beginning, secular humanism has, in various ways, promised to save the world. Not only have these promises failed, but no coherent vision has even been offered of what a “saved world” would look like. Like the progressives of today, who promise progress without any fixed definition of better or worse, all that’s left is a pursuit of pleasure, to enshrine self-expression as the highest good. In other words, it was the abject failure of secular humanism that gave birth to the cynical postmodern ethos of today.

If nothing else, secular humanism is a cautionary tale for Christians who think of the Christian faith as a kind of humanist project. Of course, we want to be respectable, intellectual, good people who make the world better. But Christianity is not merely a way of achieving human flourishing. It is first and foremost a Story of reality, an account of the world and human history that is true. This story is the foundation of certain, nonnegotiable moral beliefs that may not be popular, but they are also not up for grabs, and they can’t be separated from the truth claims of Christianity in the first place.

In other words, the Christian creed is not to be updated every few decades, despite what you may have heard.

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Copyright (c) 2023 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

TIME magazine shocked the American public on April, 8, 1966, by publishing a simple cover with one red-letter question on a black background: “Is God Dead?”

When TIME reproduced their 1966 cover design this April -- now with the question, “Is Truth Dead?” -- Southern Baptist ministers and theologians reaffirmed their confidence in the eternal truth of the living God.

“Truth is not dead,” Owen Strachan, associate professor of Christian theology at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, told The Pathway.

“Humanity has an unshakable thirst for truth. Truth is burned on our hearts and imbued on our brains. People are starving for truth today. They are living in the wreckage of a world that has willfully gouged out its eyes to truth.

“But we who preach Christ have the means of salvation and surety. I believe in days ahead that many will disagree with us, but that our promotion of absolute truth, a coherent worldview, and a Savior will prove irresistible to many left in the wilderness by postmodern education.”

Death-of-God theology

That TIME magazine would follow up their talk of God’s death with talk of truth’s death is no surprise, Strachan added. “The two ‘deaths’ are directly related. If God is not with us, then we have no foundation for truth.”

The 1966 cover article, written by TIME religion editor John Elson, featured the radical “Death-of-God” theological movement of the 1960s.

Though relatively short-lived and small, this movement gained notoriety for its leaders, who championed the radical 19th-century philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s slogan, “God is dead,” to advance their own theological views. By talking of God’s death, they meant different things: Some meant that talk of God was simply illogical and meaningless; others that, since modern people couldn’t accept the traditional view of the Christian God, the church ought to abandon talk of Him altogether; and others that God had utterly abandoned His divine nature forever when He became incarnate as the fully human -- and merely human -- Jesus of Nazareth.

Church historian Miles Mullin says Christians shouldn’t be shocked that the 1960s produced such a radical theological movement. After all, the ‘60s aren’t called the “radical ‘60s” for no reason.

“Radical changes were taking place internationally as the world entered the post-colonial era, radical changes were taking place legally in the United States as Civil Rights leaders aggressively and publicly asserted that African Americans should be treated as full citizens, and radical changes were taking place culturally in America as social mores from the past were challenged and overturned,” Mullin, vice president for academic administration and professor of religious history at Hannibal-LaGrange University, said. “In this context, is it any surprise that radical theology emerged as well? Or that TIME found the radical Death-of-God theologians so intriguing? Or that they would print such a radical cover?”

Nevertheless, for many Americans at the time, the 1966 TIME article did come as a surprise, evidenced by the 3,421 letters the magazine’s editors received from readers.

“People were alarmed. They were shocked,” David Baker, pastor of First Baptist Church, Belton, Mo., told The Pathway. “I remember it. I was 16 years old when it came out. I remember my pastor addressing it the Sunday after it came out.

“It was a different time. People had not been exposed to that kind of thinking. There were a lot of folks that were shocked that anybody would make that statement, particularly that a major magazine would put it out on the shelves.”

For Baker, however, it is only natural that, little more than 50 years later, TIME is publishing a cover design that questions the existence of truth. After having questioned the existence of God, TIME, as well as many people in American society, has removed the only foundation for absolute truth.

Skepticism about God’s existence enabled the growth of postmodernism in the 20th-century -- that is, the philosophical movement that teaches there is no ultimate truth, no grand narrative to explain the meaning of life for everyone.

“People now speak, even in conservative circles, of exclusively personalized truth: ‘My truth.’ ‘Your truth,’” Strachan said about this relativistic tendency within society. “Truth today is no different than an item on a fast-food menu; you can take it or leave it.”

What follows the death of truth?

TIME’S 1966 article about God’s alleged death ultimately pronounced the death of truth in much of society, according to John Greever, an adjunct theology professor of theology at Missouri Baptist University and pastor of First Baptist Church, Fenton, Missouri. TIME’s more recent cover, questioning the existence of truth, is actually behind the times, he added, since some experts have actually pronounced the death of postmodern skepticism about truth.

“Postmodern thought is philosophically bankrupt,” Greever said. “There is no way that you can logically, consistently and compellingly argue that there is no truth in any truthful way.”

But what, Greever asked, comes in the wake of postmodernism’s death? His answer was not heartening.

“What comes after the degradation of absolute and objective truth is tyranny and oppressive thought.... That’s why we have protests. That’s why we have shouting matches. It’s no longer about what anyone’s viewpoint or perception or perspective is, but about whether or not they conform to the common narrative of life or thought.”

Such oppression was on display, for example, when the state of Washington sued Barronelle Stutzman, a Southern Baptist flower shop owner, after she refused -- because of her biblical convictions -- to design floral arrangements in 2013 for a same-sex wedding. Such oppression was on display when Springfield’s Missouri State University in 2014 expelled Andrew Cash, a Christian counseling student, simply for saying that he could not in good conscience counsel same-sex couples; he would instead would refer them to a counselor who shared their beliefs about marriage and human sexuality.

Such oppression was on display when last year, the NCAA began threatening the state of North Carolina with economic retaliation if they refused to repeal a law mandating that people could use only the restroom corresponding to their biological sex. In March, state legislators repealed the law. See related report.

As a matter of fact, by questioning the existence of truth this month, TIME magazine isn’t really trying to promote a postmodern, relativistic view of truth, according to J. Alan Branch, professor of Christian Ethics at Midwestern. Indeed, this month’s cover article in TIME apparently has very little to do with a philosophical discussion of truth’s existence. Rather, the article questions the honesty of U.S. President Donald Trump -- a man little esteemed by the leftwing media.

“What TIME really means by ‘Is Truth Dead?’ is that they want abortion on demand, legalized euthanasia, legalized pot, and abandonment of sexual restraint,” Branch told The Pathway. In other words, he acknowledged, they’re simply promoting their own brand of truth -- a “truth” based on a liberal, progressive ideology.

We live in a confused and confusing age. Things once considered obviously true are now rejected. Things once considered unthinkable are now thought to be unquestionable. How should a Christian think?

In the state of Oregon, high school graduates will now no longer have to demonstrate proficiency in reading, writing, or arithmetic. The logic behind the suspension of the state standards, according to the governor, has to do with equity. Somehow, she missed that “helping” racial minorities by not giving them even the most basic tools for life is a different kind of bigotry altogether, one which Andrew Sullivan has called a bigotry of no expectations.

Then there’s the story of Michaela Kennedy Cuomo announcing to the world that she’s moved beyond identifying as a homosexual and bisexual, and even beyond pan-sexual, to now demi-sexual, meaning that she’s only attracted to those with whom she shares an emotional bond. The need to publicize each and every stop on a journey of identity tourism is an odd feature of our day. The idea that every feeling, attraction, or preference is in and of itself an identity, is a tragic feature of our day.

And in case anyone thinks we’ve reached the bottom of this slippery slope, a TikTok video has now resurfaced from last fall in which a young woman passionately explains what may be next. Instead of identifying as “he” or “she,” many now claim the words “kitty-,” “pup-,” or “bunny-self” as pronouns. All this means that we may soon see chosen identities that transcend species, not just gender.

As my friend Dr. Kathy Koch said at a recent event, “Our first response in all of this should be tears, not anger.” It’s true, of course, that many people are the victims of self-inflicted bad ideas. But it’s also true that we live in a cultural moment in which even medical schools deny the basics of biology. How sad for young people to feel so distant from their own bodies that they’d rather be called rabbits than humans.

But to be clear, our crisis is not merely a moral one; it’s a cosmological one and an epistemological one. We’ve not just lost the ability to know right from wrong; we’ve lost the ability to know what’s real, what’s true, and what’s false.

In the ancient world, it was much simpler. There were authorities, civic and religious, that would announce what was good and true. You were told these berries are good. The water from that spring will make you sick. Your people came from this place and therefore you worship these gods. People came to know the world primarily by trusting the accumulated wisdom of those who had lived before.

A major shift emerged a few hundred years ago, first in the West and then elsewhere. People discovered that their ancestors weren’t always right. As society began to question the knowledge it had been given, the growing distrust in revealed wisdom grew alongside a greater confidence in what could be learned through reason and science. Reason offered not only a critique of revelation and tradition, but a compelling replacement for it. However, along with material comforts, this human-centered approach to knowledge brought along new and oppressive ideologies.

On a societal level, we saw state-sponsored evils unleashed under the banners of “progress” for “the common good.” On a personal level, these coldly clinical beliefs of the Enlightenment made life easier; but they also left it emptier. Beauty and truth lost their meaning; and the arts and social sciences in particular took a hedonistic turn. Truth claims built on human reason alone proved inadequate for human needs and human nature.

With the postmodern shift, in whose waters we now swim, suspicion and doubt are just the only things we can trust. There’s now a skepticism, not only of authority but also the objectivity of human reason, and this underlies and permeates our relationships to ourselves, to one another, and to the outside world. This habitual doubt now dominates the search for knowledge.

This leaves truth as subjective, found within, and created by each of us individually. We imagine ourselves to be free thinkers. We’re “free” from the constraints of governing authorities, “free” from the tyranny of tradition, and “free” from anyone else’s expectations. We’re “free” to imagine that reality conforms to our imaginations and fantasies, even though it doesn’t.

Underlying this brief history of Western civilization is a very basic reality. Without God, true knowledge is impossible. Without God, certainty loses to skepticism, truth claims devolve into power plays, and objectivity can never escape subjectivism.

Philosopher Richard Rorty put it this way, saying, “I came to realize that the search of the philosophers for a grand scheme that would encompass everything was an illusion, because only a theism that combined a God with equal measures of truth, love and justice could do the trick.”

I know what you’re thinking: I know Who that God is. But Rorty had already dismissed the possibility of God. And so that made any real attempt at discovering truth a dead end. But 1,000 years ago, Anselm of Canterbury offered a way forward, suggesting that the pursuit of truth could best be understood as, fides quaerens intellectum, or “faith seeking understanding.”

The Christian worldview acknowledges the frailty of the human mind, but still grounds knowledge in the eternal, unchanging nature of a God outside of us. And, even better, a God who communicates to us. In this vision, our limitations are best understood not as dead ends, but as invitations to ask questions, and to seek answers from the One who has them.

Christianity offers something far better than the fallible traditions of ancient days, or the arrogant ideology of the modern era, or the socially constructed tales of our postmodern time. It offers the true description of the world — as it really is, the self-revelation of an omniscient God who not only loves us but created us with the ability to know.

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Resources

"What Does 'Demisexual' Say about Christian Hope?" by John Stonestreet, BreakPoint, July 27, 2021.

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Copyright (c) 2021 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

Reaching people who think negatively about Christianity. An interview with Brian McLaren

Brian McLaren pastors inside the beltway at Cedar Ridge Community Church in Spencerville, Maryland, and is author of the forthcoming book More Ready Than You Realize: Evangelism and Dance in the Postmodern Matrix (Zondervan), and a featured speaker at the National Pastors Convention in February 2002 -- check out http://www.NationalPastorsConvention.com for all the details, to request a free brochure, and to register by the Early Bird deadline.

Q: How can we speak evangelistically to people today? Is it different from how we spoke to former generations?

A: Much of our evangelism here in the United States was developed in a context of Christendom, in which just about everybody knew the basic information of Christianity and were favorably disposed to it. Evangelism got people to act on what they already knew and, in a sense, already passively believed. You could call people to commitment relatively quickly. You could also use pretty forceful persuasive techniques. In dealing with postmoderns, you're dealing with people who do not know the basics of Christianity. If anything, they have a negative idea of what Christianity is. So it makes no sense to them if you come on too strong and quickly ask for a commitment. We should count conversations rather than conversions, not because I don't believe in conversions, but because I don't think we'll get many conversions if we keep emphasizing them.

Q: So what does evangelism to postmoderns look like?

A: When most people think of evangelism, the word "arguments" comes up -- arguments for the existence of God, arguments for the uniqueness of Christ, arguments for the inspiration of the Bible. For postmodern people, anything presented as an argument is less persuasive because arguments suggest a message of conquest rather than a message of peace. Postmoderns are so assaulted by advertisements and political messages that for a message to be important and true, it must come in a form other than argument.

Also, we have become good at boiling the gospel down into little four-step outlines. Modern people love diagrams; it's all about engineering. But postmodern people feel that truth comes as a mystery, a story, and a work of art; truth is more like poetry than engineering. This forces us to ask if we have a clear understanding of what the gospel really is. If, for hundreds of years, we have turned the gospel into a problem-solution mindset or series of arguments, we must ask how that may have distorted our understanding of the gospel. In many ways, the modern evangelical gospel is a message about how to not go to hell. When you step back and ask if that's really the gospel from Jesus' perspective, it's pretty hard to answer yes. When Jesus talks about the gospel, he talks about the kingdom of God. That offers a whole realm of questions that are more important.

Q: How do you train people to be authentic witnesses for the gospel?

A: We don't talk about having a missions department in our church. Instead, we tell people that what we do is missions. When we become a follower of Christ, we're signing up for his mission. That involves doing good, caring for the poor, and giving out cups of cold water in Christ's name, then telling others the story of the gospel and what God has done in our life. We talk about being and making disciples in authentic community for the good of the world. We talk about that because, according to Jesus, one of the things disciples do is help others become disciples.

Q: Besides showing kindness, how do you reach out without being pushy?

A: We emphasize that to be a good member of our church, we must get to know our neighbors. We say, throw parties. Have people over. Be nice to the children in your neighborhood. Be good people. Be good neighbors. That makes it easier to talk to people about your faith. You know that verse in 1 Peter 3 about always being ready to give an answer? Well, that implies that people are asking questions. To me, part of the issue is how we can help Christians live such good lives that people want to ask questions. If people aren't asking the questions, and we're teaching Christians how to talk rather than walk, we might just be encouraging them to be obnoxious.

Q: What questions might people ask of Christians?

A: Many would ask, "Is Christianity good, and can it make me into a better person, or will it make me a jerk?" They ask that because when they think of Christians, they tend to think of people who are narrow-minded, judgmental, arrogant, and angry. And they think, "Wow, I really want God, and I'd rather be a Christian than a Buddhist or a Muslim, but Christians look like jerks. I don't want to become like that."

They might also ask, "How can I be a Christian without becoming hateful toward people of other religions?" If we answer that question by giving reasons why other religions are wrong, we just prove that we're not the kind of person they want to become.

Q: How can churches be more welcoming to postmodern non- Christians or new believers?

A: To become this kind of church, we may have to accept people who don't dress right, don't talk right, don't smell right, and don't think right. If we're not willing to let them belong before they believe, they will never believe in our church. Because if a group says we will only accept you if you agree with us, it sounds like any other worldly group. What people are looking for is a group that accepts them regardless of whether they conform. That becomes one of the validations of the gospel.

>From BUILDING CHURCH LEADERS, a resource to train leaders, published by Leadership Journal (c) 2001 Christianity Today International.

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To find out more about BUILDING CHURCH LEADERS, go to:

http://ChristianityToday.com/bclqbrochure/

The modern age has been the age of revolution, and the world we now inhabit has been shaped by a series of earth-shaking revolutions that have altered the cultural, economic, political, and personal lives we lead. Now, researcher George Barna declares a new revolution -- a revolution on behalf of spiritual vitality, but at the expense of the local church. In REVOLUTION, Barna never seems to take refuge in understatement. To the contrary, he demonstrates a marketer's bravado when he declares: “Whether you want to or not, you will have to take a stand in regard to the Revolution. It is on track to become the most significant recalibration of the American Christian body in more than a century. Your response ought not to be based on whether you are comfortable with it, but rather on its consistency with biblical principles and its capacity to advance the Kingdom of God. If you are a follower of Jesus Christ, then you must understand this Revolution of faith because it is already impacting your life, and it will continue to do so in the years to come.”

So there. Of course, from the very onset some may question the earth-shaking significance of a “revolution” announced in a 140-page book, no matter how shocking its cover and publicity. Of course, THE COMMUNIST MANIFESTO was a short treatise as well, but this hardly seems a fair comparison.

When George Barna talks about the revolution he perceives, he speaks about “an explosion of spiritual energy and activity” that is “likely to be the most significant transition in the religious landscape that you will ever experience.” He begins his manifesto by illustrating his “revolution” by means of a conversation between David and Michael, two representative postmoderns. Both of these men, depicted as playing golf on Sunday morning rather than going to church, are described as having been “driven out of their longtime church by boredom and the inability to serve in ways to make use of their considerable skills and knowledge.” Beyond this, their response took the shape of two very different trajectories. David “decided to develop his own regimen of spiritual practices and activities in order to retain a vibrant spiritual life.” Michael, on the other hand, “chose to call a truce with God and simply get on with life, sans church.”

As Barna describes them, both think of themselves as “deeply spiritual” persons. Beyond this, both affirm the truth and reliability of the Bible and pray before meals. Both complain of being chastised by pastors for their failure to be involved in the local church.

Of the two, David represents Barna's “Revolutionary Christian.” As such, he is “not willing to play religious games” and has little interest “in being a part of a religious community that is not intentionally and aggressively advancing God's Kingdom.”

As Barna acknowledges, “We live in an era of hyperbole.” Evidently, he has decided to join in hyperbolic expression. He acknowledges that the very idea of revolution is one that has attracted the attention of marketers. He identifies the Revolutionaries as a group of relatively young adults, now numbering over two hundred million persons. They are frustrated with local church life, have grown to distrust ministry leaders, and are determined to do more than “go with the flow” of contemporary evangelicalism.

And who wouldn't want what Barna's Revolutionaries desire? “They are seeking a faith experience that is more robust and awe inspiring, a spiritual journey that prioritizes transformation at every turn, something worthy of the Creator whom their faith reflects. They are seeking the spark provided by a commitment to true revolution and thinking, behavior, and experience, where settling for what is merely good and above average is defeat.”

These high-demand Christians represent a threat to the established church. With an amazing lack of nuance, Barna consistently presents his Revolutionaries in a positive light and the local church in a negative light. When Revolutionaries are criticized by established churches, this is “simply because of their determination to honor the God they love.”

Consider Barna's description of these brave souls. “Like their role model, Jesus Christ, they ignite fierce resistance merely by being present and holy. It is perhaps that holy presence that will get Revolutionaries in the deepest trouble they will face -- and that will bring lasting healing to a culture that has rebelled for too long against its loving Creator. These Christian zealots are radically reshaping both American society and the Christian Church. Their legacy is likely to be a spiritual reformation of unprecedented proportions in the United States, and perhaps the world.”

Beyond this, Barna warns that Christians are not to judge these believers “who are dedicated to pleasing God and blessing people” when “they are true to biblical principles and commands.” There lies the main problem with Barna's Revolutionaries and the revolution he so eagerly promotes. Where this revolution falls short is seen precisely in light of the Bible's presentation of the normative Christian life and the means of grace whereby believers are shaped into Christlikeness.

We should be fair and open-minded in understanding the passions Barna presents as formative for the Revolutionaries. He identifies these as a desire for intimate worship, faith-based conversations, intentional spiritual growth, servanthood, resource investment, spiritual friendships, and family faith. While some might describe these passions with different language, no one can doubt that Barna is on to something when he points to these issues as the reason for the Revolutionaries' dissatisfaction with so many existing congregations. Almost everything he says about the inadequacy of local church life is validated by even a brief acquaintance with the superficiality of American evangelicalism.

We should remember that Barna's dissatisfaction with the church is not a new development. In 1998 he published THE SECOND COMING OF THE CHURCH, in which he warned: “At the risk of sounding like an alarmist, I believe the Church in America has no more than five years -- perhaps even less -- to turn itself around and begin to affect the culture, rather than be affected by it.”

Still, something has gone tragically wrong when a marketing researcher declares that the church of the Lord Jesus Christ is simply doomed -- especially in terms of local congregations. “There is nothing inherently wrong with being involved in a local church,” he argues. “But realize that being part of a group that calls itself a 'church' does not make you saved, holy, righteous, or godly any more than being in Yankee Stadium makes you a professional baseball player. Participating in church-based activities does not necessarily draw you closer to God or prepare you for a life that satisfies Him or enhances your existence. Being a member of a congregation does not make you spiritually righteous anymore than being a member of the Democratic Party makes you a liberal wing nut.”

A closer look at that argument reveals a glaring non sequitur. It completely avoids the question of what the church SHOULD be, and it undercuts a basic biblical premise -- that the local church is SUPPOSED to be the very place where Christians are drawn into the very passions Barna identifies -- and into so much more.

The fatal attractiveness of his argument is found most clearly in this short paragraph: “Being in a right relationship with God and His people is what matters. Scripture teaches us that devoting your life to loving God with all your heart, mind, strength, and soul is what honors Him. Being part of a local church may facilitate that. Or it might not.”

Barna wants to identify the Church at the “macro” level as the universal fellowship of all believers. But the local church -- representing the “micro” dimension of institutional church life, is more often an impediment to spiritual growth, in his view, than a means of shaping Christians into authentic discipleship.

We must remember that Barna is a market researcher and not a theologian. Still, he has ventured into this territory and risks making sweeping theological statements that simply will not bear closer scrutiny. He implies that the Bible reveals no normative ecclesiology and that local churches, as known today, are simply “abiblical” -- not addressed in the Bible at all.

He argues: “The Bible does not rigidly define the corporate practices, rituals, or structures that must be embraced in order to have a proper church. It does, however, offer direction regarding the importance and integration of fundamental spiritual disciplines into one's life.”

That is true up to a point, of course. It is true that today's pattern of church organization with publications, youth ministries, gymnasiums, and church buildings is not drawn directly from the New Testament. Of all persons, a marketer should understand this reality very well, since he is best positioned to understand how the challenges of the modern world have been met with organizational responses at the local church level.

What George Barna misses is the big picture of New Testament ecclesiology -- a picture that identifies congregational life as the very means whereby believers are shaped into Christlikeness and Christian maturity through the ministry of the Word, the fellowship of the saints, and the normative patterns of church life. Barna's Revolutionaries may be involved on spiritual quests that have added dimensions of meaning to their lives, but what they lack is the accountability, deployment, mutuality, and koinonia of the local church as envisioned in the New Testament.

Only the briefest of glances at the New Testament, looking particularly at the book of Acts and at the various letters to the churches, would reveal the centrality of preaching, discipline, congregational fellowship, and the central practices of baptism and the Lord's Supper. Barna offers genuine insight when he points to the larger cultural trends of generational transition, the rise of a new view of life, dissatisfaction with irrelevant structures, the impact of technology, the importance of genuine personal relationships, direct participation in reality, and the quest for deeper meaning. Still, one must wonder about Barna's nearly complete lack of nuance. What are we to make of Barna's claim that “Jesus Christ is the focal point of the life of every Christian Revolutionary today. It is His call to revolutionary living that beckons us and guides us on this path?” Are the Revolutionaries never wrong? Beyond this, Barna's definition of spiritual transformation seems amazingly superficial. “Spiritual transformation is any significant and lasting transition in your life wherein you switch from one substantial perspective or practice to something wholly different that genuinely alters you at a very basic level,” he writes. That's all?

He points to a cluster of what he calls “spiritual mini-movements” as indicative of where the Revolutionaries are at work. These mini-movements are, he argues, reshaping the shape of Christianity in America, from the emergence of cyber-churches and house churches to a new emphasis upon family and home-schooling.

Part of the problem undoubtedly lies in Barna's marketing approach to the church. A look through Barna's many books -- all widely read and helpful in understanding larger cultural trends -- reveals that he has never articulated anything close to a New Testament vision of the local church.

In GOD IN THE WASTELAND, David F. Wells points to the problem of approaching the church from the angle of marketing. “A business is in the market simply to sell its products; it doesn't ask consumers to surrender themselves to the product. The church, on the other hand, does call for such a surrender. It is not merely marketing a product; it is declaring Christ's sovereignty over all of life and declaring the necessity of obedient submission to him and to the truth of his Word. When the church is properly fulfilling the task it has been assigned, it is demanding far more than any business would ever think of asking prospective customers. Simply put, the church is in the business of truth, not profit. Its message -- the message of God's Word -- enters the innermost place in a person's life, the place of secrets and anguish, of hope and despair, of guilt and forgiveness, and it demands to be heard and obeyed in a way that not even the most brazen and unprincipled advertisers would think of emulating.”

As in the past, George Barna has served the church by describing and documenting trends that are shaping the culture and in revealing the superficiality and failings of all too many local congregations. Regrettably, his prescription is even worse than his diagnosis, for minimizing the importance of the local church runs directly counter to the Bible's vision for the Christian life. The real answer to Barna's concern is the recovery of biblical ecclesiology -- a recovery that would relativize and revolutionize the entire landscape of contemporary Christianity in America.

The revolution we truly need is a recovery of the New Testament vision of the local church -- a comprehensive embrace of the totality of congregational life, including all of the functions and marks revealed in Scripture. This is the great task to which this generation of Christians is called -- and we will need Barna's Revolutionaries in order to make this happen. Channeling all these energies into a comprehensive recovery of the biblical vision for local churches would be a revolution worth joining -- and worth celebrating. VIVA that REVOLUTION!

*

Several seats ahead of me, a conversation about THE DA VINCI CODE was drawing otherwise subdued travelers out of their newspapers. “It really makes you look at the church differently,” a voice said, triggering a quick “yes” out of the one beside her. Meanwhile, the passenger on my left was describing truth as coming in flavors like ice cream. “And I've never been able to develop a taste for Christianity,” he told me. Sitting alone in my car after the long plane ride, I echoed the tired query of the psalmist, “Are the foundations destroyed?” My inquiry of God was more than dispirited: “What can I do?”

The need for a coherent and compelling apologetic is reiterated daily. From time to time, it is a need I meet with despair. How do you present the Gospel when words are constantly being redefined and the lines between fiction and reality are spoken of interchangeably? Those of us who long to bring the balm of Christ to a world in pain can find ourselves retreating for countless reasons: rejection, disappointment, fear, inability. Yet it is often when my skill in presenting the Gospel seems most inadequate that God corrects once again my grave shift in thought.

It is not up to me to uphold the pillars and pieces of Christianity to make it a true and valid thing to believe in. It is not my skill in communicating or my winsome personality, but the Gospel itself that speaks with power: “For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake” (2 Corinthians 4:5). It is a mindset imperative not only in understanding the Christian story, but the very nature of truth itself. That which is real, that which exists and has meaning, exists whether we choose to stand beside it or not. Even in the throes of postmodernity, Jesus is Lord and the Gospel powerful.

C.S. Lewis once asked, “Where, except in the present, can the eternal be met?” In my dismay over the immeasurable need for truth and coherence, in my frustration for lack of words and despair for not seeming to get through, I fail to live entirely in the present. Whether wishing I had paid more attention in philosophy or hoping to find one more book on witnessing effectively, I am failing to remember that within the Gospel I long to bring even on an airplane is a person present and relevant NOW.

Jesus Christ calls us to an effective awareness of the present, to witness to the world with every moment he has given us. Where Jesus says, “Follow me,” where he pleads, “Come to me,” there is both urgency and immediacy in his voice. God is always nearest to us “now” and it has profound implications for the message we long to share.

But the Scriptures speak little of our ability to prove the existence of God or convince the skeptic of his illogic. What we are often reminded of is the POWER of the Gospel spoken in our behavior towards one another and in our devotion to Christ. “As I have loved you,” said Jesus, “so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). The promises of the one who came in the fullness of time are boldly written upon this very moment. What are you communicating to your neighbor right now?

The psalmist once asked, “When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?” (Psalm 11:3). Perhaps it was uttered with the same defeat you and I face from time to time. Yet the psalmist chose to place his dispirited inquiry beside a truth larger than his despair and more real than his inability. In the verse immediately following, the psalmist remembered the fullness of even that moment of seeming defeat: “The LORD is in his holy temple; the LORD is on his heavenly throne” (Psalm 11:4).

====================

Version from 3/27/06:

Several seats ahead of me, a conversation about THE DA VINCI CODE was drawing otherwise subdued travelers out of their newspapers. “It really makes you look at the church differently,” a voice said, triggering a quick “yes” out of the one beside her. Meanwhile, the passenger on my left, inspired by the conversation in front of us, was describing truth as coming in flavors like ice cream. “And I've never been able to develop a taste for Christianity,” he told me. Sitting alone in my car after a long plane ride, I echoed the tired query of the psalmist, “Are the foundations destroyed?” My inquiry of God was equally dispirited: “What can I possibly do about it?”

The need for a coherent and compelling apologetic is reiterated daily. From time to time, it is a need I meet with despair. How do you present the gospel when words are constantly being redefined and the lines between fiction and reality are spoken of interchangeably? Those of us who long to bring the balm of Christ to a world in pain can find ourselves retreating for countless reasons: rejection, disappointment, fear, inability. Yet it is often when my skill in presenting the gospel seems most inadequate and I voice my weariness in prayer that God corrects once again my grave shift in thought.

It is not up to me to uphold the pillars and pieces of Christianity to make it a true and valid thing to believe in. It is not my skill in communicating or my winsome personality, but the gospel itself that speaks with power, and this power that speaks in my life: “For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus's sake” (2 Cor. 4:5). It is a mindset imperative not only in understanding the Christian story, but the very nature of truth itself. That which is real, that which exists and has meaning, exists whether we choose to stand beside it or not. Even in the throes of postmodernity, Jesus is Lord and the gospel is powerful. This I forget when focusing on me.

C.S. Lewis once asked, “Where, except in the present, can the eternal be met?” In my dismay over the immeasurable need for truth and coherence, in my frustration for lack of words, and despair for not seeming to get through, I fail to live entirely in the present. Whether wishing I had paid more attention in philosophy or hoping to find one more book on witnessing effectively, I am failing to remember that within the gospel I long to bring even on an airplane is the person of Christ present and relevant NOW.

Jesus calls us to an effective awareness of the present, to witness to the world with every moment he has given us. Where Christ says, “Follow me,” where he pleads, “Come to me,” there is both urgency and immediacy in his voice. God is always nearest to us “now” and it has profound implications for the message we long to share.

The Scriptures speak little of our ability to prove the existence of God, or convince the skeptic of his illogic. What we are often reminded of is the power of the gospel spoken in our behavior towards one another and in our devotion to Christ. Both require an awareness of God in the present moment before us. “As I have loved you,” said Jesus, “so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). The promises of the one who came in the fullness of time are boldly written upon this very moment. What are you communicating to your neighbor right now?

The psalmist once asked, “When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?” (Psalm 11:3). Perhaps it was uttered with the same defeat we face from time to time. Yet the psalmist chose to place his dispirited inquiry beside a truth larger than his despair and more real than his inability. In the verse immediately following, the psalmist remembered the fullness of God even in that moment of seeming defeat: “The LORD is in his holy temple; the LORD is on his heavenly throne” (Psalm 11:4). In our daily attempts to provide an answer for the hope that is within us, might this vision seal our hearts. The LORD is near us EVEN NOW.

________

Copyright © 2005 and 2006, Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

[Original illustration at this number was deleted for being obsolete]

“The truth is not contingent on me.” Several years ago these words caught my attention as I heard them sounding loudly in the chorus of a song. At the time it was an utterly startling and freeing reminder for me. Namely, that God did not need me to uphold the pillars and pieces of Christianity to make it a true and valid thing to believe in. The truth is not contingent on me. It is an incredibly simple lesson, but a reality that is imperative in understanding not only the Christian story, but also the very nature of truth itself. That which is considered supreme reality, that which is known to have ultimate meaning and value of existence, exists whether we choose to stand beside it or not.

I read recently that the new metaphor for the postmodern embrace of truth and spirituality is the cafeteria, where one is solely responsible to actively seek after that which he or she desires. In a cafeteria, all available options are equally valid. Moreover, assembling a desirable combination of choices is also legitimate. I believe this metaphor is sadly accurate. Going out and discovering our own spiritual truths is seen as a very personal quest; truth itself is something understood to be completely contingent on me. As a friend one time commented, “I refuse to let anyone tell me what my truth is.”

Indeed, perhaps as a reaction to the intense rationalism of the Modern era, postmodern thought tends to emphasize the idea that all is not as it might seem. The preference is now anti-rationalism, anti-realism; we want to create our own reality, a mosaic of truths that will suit our own needs. And intrinsic to this approach is the concept of practicality. If it is in anyway useful to our lives then it is viewed as a “valid” truth. I once heard someone note this pointedly in a statement that she even went as far as to call her life's motto. She said, “If you can't use what you know to be true then it isn't worth knowing.” Such is the current mood - one where truth itself can be deemed unworthy of knowing.

But this attitude, though widely present among us, is hardly new. In the Gospel of John, Jesus, standing before Pontius Pilate says poignantly, “I came into this world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.” (John 18:37-38) Jesus' words in that profoundly charged conversation cut through the heart of a common attitude. How honest is your search? Or as Ravi Zacharias has said many times, intent is prior to content. What side of truth do you stand on? Truth corresponds to reality, not preference or opinion. When truth is contingent on the individual holding the belief, anything at all can become true, which is thoroughly ridiculous. And we know better than this; such an approach taken in realms of science or history would be utterly scorned.

The apostle Paul writes of those who are ever learning and never coming to knowledge of the truth. Do you ever feel like this? How do you know you are holding the truth? What guides you in finding truth in your daily life, in your worldview, in matters of faith and spirituality? The same Gospel that relays the conversation of Jesus and Pilate about truth begins with powerful words. “In the beginning was the word... Through him all things were made... And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us... We have seen his glory, the glory of the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:1,2,14) In the Christian story of life, there is a beginning, a middle, and an end, none of which is contingent on us. Truly, this is good news.

____________

Copyright © 2003 Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM). Reprinted with permission. "A Slice of Infinity" is a radio ministry of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries.

*

We live in a culture that increasingly rejects the very notion of truth. There is a sense that it is fine for us to sing and pray in our own little “holy huddles” as long as we don’t try to influence the culture or bring biblical morality into the marketplace.

Our best response in a situation like this is to simply preach the truth: We’re called to preach the Word of God in the power of the Holy Spirit. We consider the realities of the culture, but at the same time we exegete the congregation just as we exegete the text. Much like missionaries translating scripture from one language to another, we translate biblical truth so that others can grasp it.

Those with a modern world-view attempt to attack Christianity as untrue, but those with a postmodern world-view say Christianity is simply one truth among many other truths. It is first-century paganism all over again. It’s the society Paul faced in Athens, where the people covered their bases by erecting an altar “to an unknown god.”

In his book Reality Isn’t What It Used to Be (HarperCollins, 1990), Walter Truett Anderson says we are in the midst of a shift in thinking shaped by three processes: (1) The breakdown of belief – Today we have no universal consensus about what is true. (2) The birth of a global culture – We are more aware of the existence of other belief systems, so we are less likely to accept any one of them as absolutely true. (3) A new polarization – Social conflicts divide our society.

For postmodernist, truth is simply the construction of one social group and its language; that’s why it may not be valid for other groups. And since there are no “objective facts” — only the perceptions of the group — then postmodernism results in an assault on history, which can be written or rewritten according to the needs of a particular group. [Most of the current assaults on Euro-centric scholarship grows out of this postmodern rejection of history as we have traditionally understood it.]

When the liberal arts graduates of our major universities have been indoctrinated with this world-view — that there is no objective meaning and that truth is simply what we want it to be for our own purpose — then how does that promise to play out in their lives and careers? Are those who don’t believe in truth more likely to lie, steal, cut corners, or do whatever they think necessary to advance their own agendas? Those who think truth is simply an act of power are more likely to use their own power to suppress opposition and enforce their own will.

And when everything becomes subjective, moral principles are abandoned. As Gene Veith, author of Postmodern Times: A Christian Guide to Contemporary Thought and Culture (Crossway Books, 1994), has observed, “Other people — even spouses and children — are valued only for what they can contribute to my pleasure.” There is now little or no social sanction on the successful businessmen who abandons his wife and kids to take on a trophy wife — after all, who’s to say he is wrong? In an absence of moral standards, how do you even define “wrong”?

In an interview for Preaching magazine, Rick Warren told me, “Because preachers are called to communicate truth, we often mistakenly assume that unbelievers are eager to hear the truth. They aren’t! Unbelievers aren’t that interested in truth these days … Today people value tolerance more than truth. People complain about crime, drug abuse, the breakup of the family, and other problems of our culture, but they don’t realize the cause of it all is their rejection of truth.

“Moral relativism is the root of what is wrong in our society. But it is a big mistake for us to think that unbelievers will race to church if we just proclaim, ‘We have the truth!’ Their reaction will more likely be, ‘Yeah, so does everybody else!’ Proclaimers of truth don’t get much attention in a society that devalues truth …

“While most unbelievers aren’t looking for truth, they are looking for relief. This gives us the opportunity to interest them in truth. I’ve found that when I teach the truth that relieves their pain or solves their problem, unbelievers say, ‘Thanks! What else is true in that book?’ Sharing biblical principles that meet a need creates a hunger for more truth.”

Like the first-century apostles who launched into a pagan culture and proclaimed the Gospel, we are called to faithfully and authentically preach God’s truth. Preach truth with wisdom, with passion, and with purpose – then trust the Holy Spirit to go to work.

The question of truth stands at the very center of the postmodern challenge. As with any major shift in human thinking, postmodernism comes packaged with both positive and negative elements. Positively, the general worldview of postmodernism reminds us that we are deeply embedded in cultural and linguistic systems that shape and influence our thinking. Furthermore, postmodernism can provide a corrective to epistemological arrogance -- the tendency to claim premature finality for our thought and truth claims.

On the other hand, the negative dimensions of the postmodern turn are often deeply subversive of the very concept of truth. Indeed, the rejection of truth in any knowable and objective form is one of the greatest challenges postmodernism presents to the Christian faith. The questions raised by postmodernism can lead to the development of a healthy and faithful epistemological humility. On the other hand, the more general effect of postmodernism has been to insinuate a very dangerous epistemological humility that can undermine confidence that any truth can actually be known.

In recent years, John R. Franke, a professor at Biblical Theological Seminary in Hatfield, Pennsylvania, has been among the foremost proponents of the embrace of a postmodern worldview. A major figure in the emergent church, Franke has been a significant critic of modern evangelicalism. In his new book, MANIFOLD WITNESS: THE PLURALITY OF TRUTH, Franke offers an argument that pushes the postmodern envelope and offers what amounts to a completely new way of understanding truth. Truth, Franke argues, is inherently plural.

Franke’s new book is part of the “Living Theology” series published by Abingdon Press in cooperation with Emergent Village. The book deserves close attention, for it presents a vision of truth we are sure to confront in years to come.

From the onset, Franke speaks honestly of his frustration when asked about his understanding of truth. “Personally I will admit that I am beginning to find the question more than a little annoying,” he states. Franke forcefully insists that he DOES believe in truth, but manifold witness presents an understanding of truth that amounts to postmodernism in full force.

IS CHRISTIANITY PLURALIST?

Helpfully, Franke sets out his thesis early in the book. He begins with the argument that the Christian church has embraced pluriform truth claims and then argues that the Christian faith “is inherently and irreducibly pluralist.” As he explains, “The diversity of the Christian faith is not, as some approaches to church and theology might seem to suggest, a problem that needs to be overcome. Instead, this diversity is part of the divine design and intention for the Church as the image of God and the body of Christ in the world. Christian plurality is a good thing, not something that needs to be struggled against and overturned.”

This is a truly breathtaking argument. Indeed, Franke understands that his embrace of pluralism is itself a product of his own postmodern context. Previous generations of Christians, he acknowledges, considered plural truth claims, doctrinal formulas, and theological systems to be a challenge that required clarification and the discernment of truth -- not as a condition to be embraced. “The early Protestant church was characterized by plurality, but this does not mean that Protestants were pluralists,” he concedes. “They were not. Instead, they were committed to establishing the one true church over against the Roman Catholic Church, which they viewed as a heretical distortion of the one true church. They were committed to one true way to be a Christian, the one right way to read the Bible, the one system of doctrine, the one right set of practices.”

Not so in the emerging church movement. Instead, that movement “is similarly characterized by plurality.” But, in contrast to historic Protestantism, “it also AFFIRMS plurality as an appropriate and necessary manifestation of Christian community.” Thus, plurality “is not to be opposed, but rather something to be sought and celebrated.” This explains how the Emergent Village community can claim “to honor and serve the church in all its forms -- Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Protestant, Pentecostal, Anabaptist.”

In MANIFOLD WITNESS, Franke offers a skillful review of postmodernism and its understanding of truth. Furthermore, he expends considerable energy and thought in the task of calling Christians to an understanding of the careless way some believers speak of truth. Many of his thematic statements are both eloquent and helpful. Franke is certainly right when he exhorts:

“Christians committed to the Lordship of Jesus Christ should not acquiesce to the cultural relativism that gives up on the notion of ultimate or transcendent truth. But we must also resist the temptation of espousing a notion of truth that makes an idol out of our own conceptions, assumptions, and desires as though they are not subject to critique.”

IS THE TRINITY PLURALIST?

So far, so good. Franke also offers a genuine and prophetic warning when he urges white Western evangelicals to consider the extent to which our own cultural context has shaped our thinking and beliefs and the temptation to assert our own cultural assumptions, rather than the Gospel, as the Christian message.

Nevertheless, the thrust of Franke’s argument goes far beyond that warning. In arguing for the plurality of truth, Franke seeks to ground this plurality in the very nature of God. In for sizing a social understanding of the Trinity, Franke argues that plurality exists even within God. As he explains, “difference is part of the life of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit live in the fellowship of missional love.”

The ministry of the Trinity is indeed so profound as to be beyond human imagination and knowledge. Nevertheless, the Bible does reveal the UNITY of the Trinity to be definitive. Throughout the centuries, faithful Christians have taken care to honor what the Bible reveals about the unity of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit. Yet, Franke asserts “in the life of God is the experience of what is different, other, not the same.”

Franke argues that God does reveal himself to his creatures, but he also insists “that God chooses to be revealed through creaturely mediums that bear the marks of their finite character.” In other words, the actual text of the Bible involves creaturely limitations. “These limitations remain in place in spite of the use God makes of them as the bearers of revelation,” Franke asserts.

In the end, Franke’s understanding of the Bible falls desperately short of evangelical conviction. In an argument similar to that made by his late mentor, Stanley Grenz, Franke argues that “Christian communal identity has been bound up with a particular set of literary texts that together have been identified by that community as canonical Scripture.” He speaks of the Bible as “inspired,” but his argument is that “the Spirit has spoken, and now speaks, and will continue to speak with authority, guiding the church into truth, through the canonical texts of Scripture.” His proposal seems to leave no room whatsoever for verbal inspiration.

“The Bible is the principal means by which the Spirit guides the church today,” Franke affirms, but he goes on to state that “the speaking of the Spirit is not bound solely to the original intention of the biblical authors.” Utilizing a postmodern understanding of literary texts and their interpretation, Franke asserts: “The speaking of the Spirit through the texts of Scripture means that while the intention of the author is an important concern, it is not the only concern. It does not represent the fullness of the speaking of the Spirit, since this always involves the response of the reader.”

Further:

“Put another way, the goal of reading the Bible is not the attempt to identify and codify the true meaning of the text in a series of systematically arranged assertions that then function as the only proper interpretive grid through which we read the Bible. Such an approach is characteristic among those who hold particular approaches to theology and hermeneutics in an absolutist fashion and claim that such procedures will lead to the arrival of the one true and proper conception of doctrine contained in Scripture. The danger here is that such a procedure can hinder our ability to read the text and listen to the speaking of the Spirit in new ways.”

This means that we are not actually bound by the words of Scripture. Instead, the church is to engage the Bible, trusting that the Holy Spirit will lead the community into a new understanding. Thus, the emerging church would be freed from accountability to the actual words and propositional statements of Scripture. The community can simply claim that it is being led by the Spirit into a new and different understanding.

THEOLOGICAL LIBERALISM IN A NEW KEY

Of course, this is the very argument asserted by Protestant liberals over the last two centuries. Franke adds postmodern concepts and language to an old argument. The new liberalism, chastened by postmodernism for its extreme individualism, now puts theological revisionism in a communal context. The result is the same -- the subversion of biblical Christianity.

Clearly, Franke and other emerging types will chafe under that criticism. Indeed, even as he criticizes the notion of “historic Christianity” and any set of “minimum beliefs” necessary to be a Christian, he also asserts: “Of course I believe in truth. I believe in God. I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.”

The problem is this -- Franke’s argument that truth is plural means that the church should both embrace and celebrate different and even contradictory understandings of these doctrinal statements and core truths. While Franke is undoubtedly correct in warning that no theological system is free of cultural limitations, his proposal amounts to a total and unconditional surrender of doctrinal accountability. While he insists that not all doctrinal assertions are allowable, he undercuts the authority of Scripture to serve as the norm for establishing truth from error.

The Protestant liberals of the 19th and 20th centuries often offered words of criticism orthodox believers and theologians needed to hear. Nevertheless, their subversion of biblical truth and their embrace of heresy rather than orthodoxy established these theological liberals as adherents of a religion fully distinct from Biblical Christianity.

Now, the leading edge of the emergent church movement follows the very same trajectory. MANIFOLD WITNESS is a fascinating book, but John Franke’s proposal is a recipe for theological disaster. In this book, a new postmodern form of theological liberalism comes fully into view.

In our postmodern world some might ask, “So what if Jesus did rise from the dead? I’m glad it works for you, but it’s not for me, it’s not where I’m at.” How should we respond to those who may not deny the bodily resurrection of Jesus, but who do question its significance and relevance for today? Let me share two significant moments in my own life.

Several years ago I participated in a short term mission trip to Thailand. This country is almost totally Buddhist and very resistant to Christianity. We have had little success in evangelizing Thailand. One day we hired a guide to take us around Bangkok. As we began talking I told him I was Christian. He politely informed me that he was a Buddhist, and then he asked me to explain what a Christian is. To my amazement he had never heard about Jesus. He kindly allowed me to talk for some time and when I got to the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, he literally stopped the car and turned to me in the backseat to ask if I had really said that Jesus was raised from the dead. I said that was correct, and I went on to tell him that Jesus remains alive today as God and King over all things.

When I finished, this Buddhist from Thailand said nothing for several minutes. He then looked at me again and said, “If this Jesus really did come back to life from the dead, He did something that no one else has ever done. If that is true, He would have the right to make a claim on every person that no one else could.” That Buddhist man did not become a Christian that day. I do not know if he has, and I’ve never seen or heard from him again. He said he just could not believe that someone could come back from the dead, but he would think about it.

I do believe this: He saw the issue and what is at stake with crystal clear clarity. Now let me share a second experience.

Several years ago I became friends with a gifted and brilliant man named Mike Bryan. Mike is not a Christian. In fact he considers himself to be an atheist or agnostic, depending on which day it is. Mike is incredibly smart and intelligent. He is also quite curious. That curiosity led Mike to Dallas, Texas, and Criswell College around 1990 for the purpose of living within an evangelical community and writing about his experience. Surprisingly -- especially to his editors -- Mike did not produce the hatchet job they expected. He actually was quite complimentary about what he found, and so he wrote a book entitled “Chapter and Verse: A Skeptic Revisits Christianity.”

After spending almost six months with us: going to classes, attending a major pastor’s conference in Jacksonville, Florida, traveling on a mission trip and observing a Southern Baptist Convention annual meeting, it was time for Mike to leave and return to his home in New York City. My wife and our four boys had fallen in love with Mike and so we had him over for dinner before he left. After dinner, as we were sitting around talking, I asked Mike this question: “Thinking about all you have studied and experienced, what is the bottom line as you see it?” With no hesitation at all Mike responded, “That’s easy. It’s the resurrection of Jesus from the dead.”

Mike then proceeded to set forth the logic of the issue. “If Jesus rose from the dead then there is a God and He is that God,” Mike said. “Furthermore, the Bible is true because He said it was true and believed it was true. And, that means there is a heaven and a hell, and one’s relationship with Jesus is the deciding factor as to which way you go.”

I have often wished my seminary students, fellow theologians and brothers and sisters in Christ who attend our churches saw the issue as clearly as this agnostic/atheist. If the resurrection is true, the rest of Christianity falls right into place. If, on the other hand it is not true, millions of us wasted our time on Easter Sunday. I am convinced, based on the historical evidence and the witness of the Spirit in my heart, it was not a waste!

Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. –Hebrews 11:1

Did you hear the story about the dead postmodern paratrooper? The last words his jump partner heard him say as he hurtled past were: “How can I know for sure it’s gonna open?” He failed to take his buddy’s hurried advice, “You gotta trust it!”

Postmodernism, today’s fad philosophy, has lots of interesting things to say about the meaning and existence of truth. In particular, postmodernism points out that the human mind is affected by emotions, by the way we were raised, by the community we live in, by faulty senses, and by the fact that the words of human language are not precise enough to be perfect carriers of the truth. Therefore, they say it’s impossible to prove that we speak or hear the truth.

There’s some truth in that. But the trouble is that we have to put our faith in a jillion things every day–proven true or not! Every day when I get to work, I trust that my office chair is going to hold me up. I could debate forever about the accuracy of the ergonomic engineer’s plan for my chair, but if I’m going to get any work done I’ve got to sit down and fire up my computer. Then I discover the truth: the chair holds!

Alister McGrath, Christian research lecturer at Oxford, says this about the fallibility of words in reference to something much more important — the character and nature of God: “Even though human words are inadequate to do justice to the wonder and majesty of God, they are nevertheless able to point to Him. Inadequacy does not imply unreliability”

Language is probably not capable of revealing perfect truth. But if we’re going to live and act, we have to trust that some words, some people, and some things are reliable. When it comes to daily living, postmodern philosophy doesn’t cut it. Eventually you have to quit debating and make your choices. And it is when you make your choices that truth becomes evident.

If you don’t believe me, ask people who have trusted Christ if they believe they made a mistake. — DO

REFLECTION

• How do I determine what or whom I can trust?

• Has the Bible shown itself to be a reliable source of truth to me?

Truth is meaningless without trust.

The question of truth stands at the very center of the postmodern challenge. As with any major shift in human thinking, postmodernism comes packaged with both positive and negative elements. Positively, the general worldview of postmodernism reminds us that we are deeply embedded in cultural and linguistic systems that shape and influence our thinking. Furthermore, postmodernism can provide a corrective to epistemological arrogance -- the tendency to claim premature finality for our thought and truth claims.

On the other hand, the negative dimensions of the postmodern turn are often deeply subversive of the very concept of truth. Indeed, the rejection of truth in any knowable and objective form is one of the greatest challenges postmodernism presents to the Christian faith. The questions raised by postmodernism can lead to the development of a healthy and faithful epistemological humility. On the other hand, the more general effect of postmodernism has been to insinuate a very dangerous epistemological humility that can undermine confidence that any truth can actually be known.

In recent years, John R. Franke, a professor at Biblical Theological Seminary in Hatfield, Pennsylvania, has been among the foremost proponents of the embrace of a postmodern worldview. A major figure in the emergent church, Franke has been a significant critic of modern evangelicalism. In his new book, MANIFOLD WITNESS: THE PLURALITY OF TRUTH, Franke offers an argument that pushes the postmodern envelope and offers what amounts to a completely new way of understanding truth. Truth, Franke argues, is inherently plural.

Franke’s new book is part of the “Living Theology” series published by Abingdon Press in cooperation with Emergent Village. The book deserves close attention, for it presents a vision of truth we are sure to confront in years to come.

From the onset, Franke speaks honestly of his frustration when asked about his understanding of truth. “Personally I will admit that I am beginning to find the question more than a little annoying,” he states. Franke forcefully insists that he DOES believe in truth, but manifold witness presents an understanding of truth that amounts to postmodernism in full force.

IS CHRISTIANITY PLURALIST?

Helpfully, Franke sets out his thesis early in the book. He begins with the argument that the Christian church has embraced pluriform truth claims and then argues that the Christian faith “is inherently and irreducibly pluralist.” As he explains, “The diversity of the Christian faith is not, as some approaches to church and theology might seem to suggest, a problem that needs to be overcome. Instead, this diversity is part of the divine design and intention for the Church as the image of God and the body of Christ in the world. Christian plurality is a good thing, not something that needs to be struggled against and overturned.”

This is a truly breathtaking argument. Indeed, Franke understands that his embrace of pluralism is itself a product of his own postmodern context. Previous generations of Christians, he acknowledges, considered plural truth claims, doctrinal formulas, and theological systems to be a challenge that required clarification and the discernment of truth -- not as a condition to be embraced. “The early Protestant church was characterized by plurality, but this does not mean that Protestants were pluralists,” he concedes. “They were not. Instead, they were committed to establishing the one true church over against the Roman Catholic Church, which they viewed as a heretical distortion of the one true church. They were committed to one true way to be a Christian, the one right way to read the Bible, the one system of doctrine, the one right set of practices.”

Not so in the emerging church movement. Instead, that movement “is similarly characterized by plurality.” But, in contrast to historic Protestantism, “it also AFFIRMS plurality as an appropriate and necessary manifestation of Christian community.” Thus, plurality “is not to be opposed, but rather something to be sought and celebrated.” This explains how the Emergent Village community can claim “to honor and serve the church in all its forms -- Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Protestant, Pentecostal, Anabaptist.”

In MANIFOLD WITNESS, Franke offers a skillful review of postmodernism and its understanding of truth. Furthermore, he expends considerable energy and thought in the task of calling Christians to an understanding of the careless way some believers speak of truth. Many of his thematic statements are both eloquent and helpful. Franke is certainly right when he exhorts:

“Christians committed to the Lordship of Jesus Christ should not acquiesce to the cultural relativism that gives up on the notion of ultimate or transcendent truth. But we must also resist the temptation of espousing a notion of truth that makes an idol out of our own conceptions, assumptions, and desires as though they are not subject to critique.”

IS THE TRINITY PLURALIST?

So far, so good. Franke also offers a genuine and prophetic warning when he urges white Western evangelicals to consider the extent to which our own cultural context has shaped our thinking and beliefs and the temptation to assert our own cultural assumptions, rather than the Gospel, as the Christian message.

Nevertheless, the thrust of Franke’s argument goes far beyond that warning. In arguing for the plurality of truth, Franke seeks to ground this plurality in the very nature of God. In for sizing a social understanding of the Trinity, Franke argues that plurality exists even within God. As he explains, “difference is part of the life of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit live in the fellowship of missional love.”

The ministry of the Trinity is indeed so profound as to be beyond human imagination and knowledge. Nevertheless, the Bible does reveal the UNITY of the Trinity to be definitive. Throughout the centuries, faithful Christians have taken care to honor what the Bible reveals about the unity of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit. Yet, Franke asserts “in the life of God is the experience of what is different, other, not the same.”

Franke argues that God does reveal himself to his creatures, but he also insists “that God chooses to be revealed through creaturely mediums that bear the marks of their finite character.” In other words, the actual text of the Bible involves creaturely limitations. “These limitations remain in place in spite of the use God makes of them as the bearers of revelation,” Franke asserts.

In the end, Franke’s understanding of the Bible falls desperately short of evangelical conviction. In an argument similar to that made by his late mentor, Stanley Grenz, Franke argues that “Christian communal identity has been bound up with a particular set of literary texts that together have been identified by that community as canonical Scripture.” He speaks of the Bible as “inspired,” but his argument is that “the Spirit has spoken, and now speaks, and will continue to speak with authority, guiding the church into truth, through the canonical texts of Scripture.” His proposal seems to leave no room whatsoever for verbal inspiration.

“The Bible is the principal means by which the Spirit guides the church today,” Franke affirms, but he goes on to state that “the speaking of the Spirit is not bound solely to the original intention of the biblical authors.” Utilizing a postmodern understanding of literary texts and their interpretation, Franke asserts: “The speaking of the Spirit through the texts of Scripture means that while the intention of the author is an important concern, it is not the only concern. It does not represent the fullness of the speaking of the Spirit, since this always involves the response of the reader.”

Further:

“Put another way, the goal of reading the Bible is not the attempt to identify and codify the true meaning of the text in a series of systematically arranged assertions that then function as the only proper interpretive grid through which we read the Bible. Such an approach is characteristic among those who hold particular approaches to theology and hermeneutics in an absolutist fashion and claim that such procedures will lead to the arrival of the one true and proper conception of doctrine contained in Scripture. The danger here is that such a procedure can hinder our ability to read the text and listen to the speaking of the Spirit in new ways.”

This means that we are not actually bound by the words of Scripture. Instead, the church is to engage the Bible, trusting that the Holy Spirit will lead the community into a new understanding. Thus, the emerging church would be freed from accountability to the actual words and propositional statements of Scripture. The community can simply claim that it is being led by the Spirit into a new and different understanding.

THEOLOGICAL LIBERALISM IN A NEW KEY

Of course, this is the very argument asserted by Protestant liberals over the last two centuries. Franke adds postmodern concepts and language to an old argument. The new liberalism, chastened by postmodernism for its extreme individualism, now puts theological revisionism in a communal context. The result is the same -- the subversion of biblical Christianity.

Clearly, Franke and other emerging types will chafe under that criticism. Indeed, even as he criticizes the notion of “historic Christianity” and any set of “minimum beliefs” necessary to be a Christian, he also asserts: “Of course I believe in truth. I believe in God. I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.”

The problem is this -- Franke’s argument that truth is plural means that the church should both embrace and celebrate different and even contradictory understandings of these doctrinal statements and core truths. While Franke is undoubtedly correct in warning that no theological system is free of cultural limitations, his proposal amounts to a total and unconditional surrender of doctrinal accountability. While he insists that not all doctrinal assertions are allowable, he undercuts the authority of Scripture to serve as the norm for establishing truth from error.

The Protestant liberals of the 19th and 20th centuries often offered words of criticism orthodox believers and theologians needed to hear. Nevertheless, their subversion of biblical truth and their embrace of heresy rather than orthodoxy established these theological liberals as adherents of a religion fully distinct from Biblical Christianity.

Now, the leading edge of the emergent church movement follows the very same trajectory. MANIFOLD WITNESS is a fascinating book, but John Franke’s proposal is a recipe for theological disaster. In this book, a new postmodern form of theological liberalism comes fully into view.