It may have been a great idea to start out. But last week, someone’s¹ idea to ask for various definitions of “not the Gospel” in a Twitter hashtag may have brought in more questionable points than helpful reminders.

I contributed two of these myself, but thought to qualify the second one.

Poor Jesus is knocking on the door of your heart, and all He needs is for you to let Him in! #notthegospel
7:59 PM Jul 19th

“There’s a God-shaped hole in your heart that only He can fill.” #notthegospel (Well, not that slogan alone, anyway! Let’s not overcorrect.)
7:58 AM Jul 21st

Yes, such statements are not by themselves the Gospel. But still, someone could teach the whole Gospel and include such statements as these.

That’s a minor objection some could raise, and rightly so. But other Tweeters, it seemed, used the hashtag simply to offer silliness, or worse, imply that something was only heresy — or even that someone specific was only promoting Gospel-less heresy.

I think slamming all CMM — I don’t know how else to read that one — was a bit too far.

As of Wednesday morning this whole thing was still going. It will likely fade soon. Yet the fact will remain true that overzealous Christians defending the Gospel so much that they offend those who also believe and even promote the same message.

Soon after, the aforementioned Pyromaniacs blogger posted a mostly-open-for-discussion post about Calvinists that don’t seem to behave according to the doctrine of grace they profess to believe.² Unfortunately there are a few filthy-acting Calvinists out there who seem to commit the exact same error they decry in evangelicals and emergents: pick a problem, find the doctrinal hammer, and see every problem (whether it matches or not) as the problem that must be nailed with the same solution.

Yet true “Calvinism,” i.e. Reformed theology, sees God and His glory as the ultimate goal, and all problems — sin, suffering, free-willie emphasis, etc. — as means to that end. So such people who act as though Fixing Problems is the means aren’t practicing what they preach.

I give that disclaimer almost as a warning mostly to myself, because while going through some of these “not the gospel” Tweets, it could seem like I’m committing the same error in reverse.

In our haste to uphold the real Gospel, let’s not overcorrect and bash rightful Gospel derivatives — such as “we must live out the Gospel” or even “there’s a God-shaped hole” and so on. Not everyone who says such things is a corrupt compromiser. And even if they are, that’s no cause to throw out unqualified, un-nuanced (even on soundbyte-heavy Twitter) slams of certain people who arguably not only believe but promote, sing about and preach the true Gospel.

Witticism criticisms

ReformedFundy

Giving all your money to the poor: #notthegospel
12:00 AM Jul 19th

True — though Jesus more than implied it could be some people’s calling (Matthew 19: 16-30).

ReformedFundy

Giving away fiction novels is #notthegospel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzh3MYv1L4A
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:15:17 AM

No, but nothing is wrong with it either. I hope this isn’t another Reformed-people-oppose-fiction-not-aloud-but-in-practice thing. We need more Reformed authors honoring God in story.

Doing something, or giving something, or living a Christ-honoring life, may not be the only thing we need do to preach the Gospel, but it’s part of it. Scripture evidence backs this up: we must use words and deeds to preach the Gospel. This same is true against Tweeters’ proclamations that “lifestyle evangelism” is “not the Gospel.”

I’m not picking on ReformedFundy; two of his Tweets were simply the first I noticed here.

ecrosstexas

Any gospel presentation that has man contributing more than sin and guilt to his salvation. #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:15:34 AM

But can’t God change hearts and bring repentance and faith even to those who wrongly overemphasize Man’s Free Will and You Must Make a Decision. Even if I said even something as extremely free-willie as “God only needs your repentance and your faith, which you come up with on your own to meet him halfway,” does that make me a heretic? Am I guilty of not preaching the Gospel at all? I may not be right, but the Gospel could still be there.

kkiptum

RT @llanphere: “Heaven is only a prayer away.” #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:19:14 AM

ReformedFundy

The Sinner’s Prayer: #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:19:20 AM

These, like many other similar Tweets, are addressed to those who overdo the whole “pray this prayer” response to the Gospel call, as if the words themselves are magical or that repeating them guarantees you were sincere. However, how many non-Reformeds, outside “the loop,” know this? Saying this apart from context (Charles Finney, etc.) will just be confusing. Some will assume that the statement connotes you must do something apart from simple repentance and faith in Christ to save us. That assumption would be wrong. But let’s communicate this better.

venchenzareally

“God’s love is unconditional” #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:22:41 AM

This I can amen — but I’d add that God Himself, in Christ, fulfilled for repentant sinners His own condition of punishment. So in a sense, God’s love is both conditional, and unconditional.

airjomax21

RT @llanphere: Preaching predestination to unbelievers. #notthegospel #stopityouknuckleheads
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:31:16 AM

Amen. No further response necessary.

TimmJones

Christian Hedonism: #nottheGospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:38:47 AM

A little vague? If he’s addressing Desiring God’s definition of Christian hedonism, I’d reply again that valuing Christ for His own glory, and seeking ultimate satisfaction in Him, is part of the Gospel. Still, someone who wrongly practices only a duty-driven life can still be saved.

SusanYenser

Let go and let God… #NOTthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 2:31:45 AM

Again, for those conditioned to react against perceived adding to the simplicity of the Gospel, this could come across as saying “faith is not enough to be saved.” In certain circles, people know it means that you don’t just sit back after you’re saved and not work out your own salvation — though knowing it is God Who works in us (Philippians 2: 12-13). But others may not get the inside reference. So though it’s true that “Let go and let God” is fraught with wrong meanings, so would be condemning the statement without offering more clarification.

voiceofthesheep

“Come as you are” – #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 11:03:46 AM

Yet another true rebuttal — that could still sound like adding works to the “simple” repentance and faith Christ gives His people for them be saved. Yes, converts should come as they are, but they should know Christ doesn’t expect them to stay that way. He gives us new hearts and minds (Romans 12: 1-2) and we are saved for good works (Ephesians 2:10).

lunchboxsw

Being perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect. #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 12:12:00 PM

mesa_mike

@piratechristian Sermon on the Mount #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 5:44:53 PM

(Picks up and comforts the crying babies who were just thrown out along with the bathwater.)

Folks: Peter said that God expects holiness, and Jesus gave the Sermon on the Mount. Knowing that apart from Him we cannot fulfill His expectations is essential to understanding the Gospel.

I’m sure of what he means. But what do people hear? Maybe we can be more careful.

LaneChaplin

Disney Movies #notthegospel (even though I love them)
Monday, July 19, 2010 1:27:45 PM

Um … I’ve mentioned others not getting references. This is one I fail to get myself.

jesusbayona

All spirit-filled Christians speak in tongues. #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 1:35:56 PM

That’s a better one, especially because some who say this audaciously claim it’s “full gospel.”

Awretchsaved

I’ve asked Jesus to come into my heart. #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 3:20:28 PM

Booo. A bit too far? Saying this is not “not the Gospel.” If this is all we say, sure, that could be a problem. But it is not worth implying those who say this are believing a false Gospel.

axiomvv

RT @mykelpickens: Theology is #notthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 3:43:12 PM

Um, if you have, believe and strive to live according to right theology, using it as a means to love God and learn more about Him — then yes, theology is how we know the Gospel. Can we not imply that only few people are theologians, instead of all of us, or that theology is only dry?

tegregory

@piratechristian My what an anti-socialist kick you’re on today. How’s this?: “capitalism, free market, government ‘freedom’ #notthegospel”
Monday, July 19, 2010 4:24:22 PM

Apart from Christ, anything is not the Gospel, and that includes both socialism and capitalism. Duh. But capitalism is at least closer to Biblical truth. (Example: the New Earth will feature privately owned property — Isaiah 65: 21-22.) Capitalism and socialism are not equal ills.

bobbycapps

RT @piratechristian: Feeding the Poor #notthegospel // #butisafruitofthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 4:42:23 PM

bobbycapps

RT @piratechristian: Social Justice #notthegospel // #butisafruitofthegospel
Monday, July 19, 2010 4:45:43 PM

Now there we go. That seems much more helpful in clarifying true meanings.

Of course, it’s difficult to address every nuance or possibility of misunderstanding. Yet if I can do it — at least, I hope I did — in the second of my two Tweets about this, can’t we all?

Meanwhile, as others began pointing out, many of the “not the Gospel” ideas coming under fire may not themselves be the Gospel. Giving out novels, lifestyle evangelism, redeeming the culture, changing the world or living a purpose-driven life alone can’t save us. Most Christians know this, at least in theory. But the Gospel does bear fruits. And it could include those things.

And as Frank Turk himself later noted:

Frank_Turk

#notthegospel – does the Gospel have any necessary consequences? If so, why are we afraid of these things?
Monday, July 19, 2010 7:48:50 PM

It is something we all spend almost all our days doing. When pastors, teachers or friends issue the challenge to avoid living like a “Sunday only Christian — any answer should include it. And it’s something the whole Bible often addresses.

But it’s something that many Christian books, teachers, leaders and sermons don’t often touch.

I think that [a] great heresy of the Christian faith in the 21st century is that here, people spend their time and life at work … [and] it’s a whole area of life that we have not addressed in theological seminaries, in churches. I think people don’t think about it because they’ve never been challenged to do it. And yet as you go through the Bible you find that the Bible has a lot to say about work. But we somehow just go right over it.

That’s according to Dr. Haddon Robinson, theologian, preacher and teacher, and cohost of RBC Ministries’ “Discover the Word” daily radio broadcast.

Don’t let the program’s 15-minute length (or RBC’s famousness for the pithy devotionalette Our Daily Bread!) fool you. Well, it fooled me at least. Somehow I thought this program might not have a lot of doctrinal depth. Last year, when they spent months going over commonly misread and misunderstood Bible verses, I found I was so wrong.[And in fact, their grace-based and truth-imbued exploration of such verses formed an idea that would later become this site.]

Discover the Word began its series on Godly vocation in early January. Their first week, they began discussing the practical side of what people who’ve lost their jobs go through, how they recover and how others can help. On Jan. 11, they began focusing on Biblical doctrine of work.

Here most doctrine issues, Robinson noted, are from a lack of Christian teaching on the subject. Thus wrong ideas — including false divisions of “secular” and “sacred” — can infest our minds.

And if Christians do talk about our daily work, Robinson continued, it’s often limited to certain contexts. For example, if a theme is following God’s will in normal ways, we might mention the need to avoid stealing from the workplace. Much more common is the encouragement for people to witness and share the Gospel with others, including at work, he said. But in addition to those truths, do Christians spend equal time talking about God’s approval of work itself?

The following day they played a clip of a simulated sermon. It’s something that Christians might hear at a church whose pastor may not intend to further false ideas, but falls into this practice anyway because of ignorance or a perception of the false sacred/secular dichotomy.

“God wants you to give yourself to Him. He wants you think seriously about how you spend your time and where you spend your money.

“As you know, we desperately need people to teach our junior-high boys. But many of you are too busy with your job, your work, that you don’t have time for God’s work. The roof of our church building is in need of repair, and many of you are busy making money. But you can’t find money to invest in the house of God.

“Now I’m not scolding you. But I’m just asking: are you so busy working and making money that you’ve pushed God and the church out of your lives?”

My initial reaction: maybe few people have heard someone say that so directly. But do we have such assumptions deep down in our minds? Do we hear Biblically based, Gospel-driven truth against these notions? If not, the lies may keep growing. And so will the false belief that what we’re doing in our workplaces, or our tasks at home, are less important than “official” ministry.

Cohost Alice Matthews wondered if such guilt trips are more common than we might think.

It completely ignores everything that goes into the work week of the person in the pew. This person who is having to make money in order to pay the rent, or pay the mortgage, buy groceries for the family — the whole life of that person, Monday through Saturday, is being put aside in favor of only dealing with what is going on in the church.

And that, Robinson added, does nothing to aid the “don’t just be a Sunday Christian” truth.

That’s one of the [problems]. The other [problem] is: “the real work that you do for God is what you do on Sunday at the church. And what you’re doing out there in the workplace is somewhat questionable.” … I’ve had businesspeople say that when their work is addressed [at church], it’s always addressed in a way to make them feel guilty. Now you’re out there making money, and that’s somehow a terrible thing to be doing.

“Necessary, but terrible,” Matthews quipped. And she and cohost Mart De Haan went on to acknowledge the truth that the Bible does views some things as “set apart” for God. That includes Old Testament prophets’ references to the Jews building their own houses instead of working on the Temple, and Jesus’ encouragement that we must lay up treasures in Heaven.

Yet we can also lay up treasures in Heaven, and glorify God well, even in “secular” jobs. And Christians should honor that truth as much as they honor more-direct Kingdom work.

That’s what I draw from Robinson’s finish to that broadcast.

You don’t hear it the other way. You don’t hear, “Some of you are spending too much time working with the junior boys. And you’re not out there in the workplace doing the kind of work you ought to be doing, that’s quality work.”

… Pastors and Christian leaders do preach this kind of thing: that the really important work in life has to do with what you do with the church. Obviously it’s another sermon to say — you got to have balance. But we don’t talk about the balance of doing good work in the workplace. … There are inadequate ways of bridging the gap between worship and work. And I think serious Christians need to think about that in an honest way.”

Web designers may not give slideshows during furloughs at their supporting church, but their work can honor God and furthers His Kingdom as much as any foreign missionary.

Just yesterday I happily found that the “Discover the Word” website is better able to do just that.

That enables even easier access to a months-long series earlier this year, by DTR hosts Dr. Haddon Robinson, Alice Matthews and Mart De Haan. This series lasted from early January to mid-March, and it was in one episode that the first time I heard one of my little mini-myths busted: Jesus did not condemn Martha for working and not listening, but had other reasons to encourage her to listen to Him.

Already I’ve heard at least two weeks of the short, 15-minutes episodes. But as soon as I can download the rest, I think I’ll start over from the beginning.

And Lord willing, the Discover the Word hosts will consider more work: perhaps making this same content into a book. That could help more people than just me remember God’s different career callings, gifts and talents in our lives.

How I wish I could repost the whole thing — yet it’s only fair to point any readers to Focus on the Family’s Young Married Life site for the full column by Justin Taylor.

Yesterday was when I first saw it there. And Taylor’s first sentence made me rejoice.

Do you ever feel guilty for going to work when you could be doing ministry instead?

This might encourage you too — especially if today has been one of Those Mondays.

Taylor continues:

If you’re a student, you’re spending hours in the classroom, hours typing papers, hours taking tests. But you could be out evangelizing. If you’re in the workplace, you spend hours in front of your computer, hours in meetings, hours in your little cubicle. But you could be on the mission field leading people to Jesus.

Should you feel guilty? I remember hearing a student leader in college who thought the answer to that question was definitely yes. We were on a retreat, and he was delivering a passionate exhortation. His belief was that God’s default expectation was for all Christians to go into full-time vocation ministry — the exception was the rare person whom God called to be in a “secular job.”

It sounds plausible, doesn’t it? It’s certainly well-intentioned. But I don’t think it’s biblical.

I want to offer some thoughts about what I’ve been learning about the biblical view of calling and vocation, but first we need to understand some biblical basics about the nature of work itself.

Take a break from your own work, and go read the rest.¹

(Adapted from my review posted last year and available here.)

It was in 2006 that I had managed to catch up to yet another Christianity-acclaimed author: John Eldredge, writer of the 2001 Wild at Heart book and its successful spinoffs.

It’s written for men, and yet although Eldredge is clearly an avid outdoorsman and guy who likes to leap off cliffs and things, his style is often very dramatic, almost feminine. His style contrasts with that of some other Christian men’s books, whose shorter, journalistic sentences cut the poetry and flowery adjectives and get right to the roots.

Worse than the style is this: in terms of defining a man’s role Biblically and how truly redeemed men of God should operate in a rebellious world, Eldredge falters — repeatedly.

In his haste to rebut — and rightfully so — secular and Christian notions of sensitive, caring Nice Guys in touch with their feminine sides, Eldredge unfortunately goes too far, and “wildly” outside of Scripture and common sense.

Walk on the wild side

Despite his own few disclaimers, Eldredge more than indirectly describes his own favorite hobbies — biking, hiking, running from an angry bull moose, etc. — as typical as those of the Wild Man, who has truly become free.

Eldredge naïvely applies this one-size-fits-all approach, based on whatever outdoorsey things worked for him, as if they will work the same for every crisis-afflicted man every time. Meanwhile, guys who enjoy painting, writing, or perhaps that corporate work Eldredge often dismisses as stunting to “wildness,” would fall far outside the stereotype. Instead, it seems the inevitable result of the Man Who Is Truly Set Free will be a sudden craving to rappel off a high sharp place.

That could be dismissed as merely the author’s narrow-mindedness, and rather juvenile self-focus. By far the worse problem is where Eldredge thinks far too broadly: proof-texting multiple Scripture passages and distorting God’s nature to fit his own “wild” worldview.

‘Wounded’ by un-Biblical ideas

Wild at Heart usually acts as a sequel to something. Eldredge’s often-meandering style leaves one not wanting more in the manner a great book brings, but in the way rendered by a book whose author hasn’t exactly finished every thought. One can easily read and keep thinking, This is a supplemental. It’s as if Eldredge is writing for people already exposed to something.

One could assume that prerequisite book is the Bible. But Eldredge never directly recommends reading the Scriptures or repenting to follow Christ before considering Wild. Instead, to make the “wild” ideas take hold, Eldredge merely assembles a montage of Scripture passages and other quotes, old and new, from psychologists, religious writers, recording artists and very often the Mel Gibson movie Braveheart. The character William Wallace of that film is frequently upheld as a Wild Man whose example we should emulate. (This book was written, of course, before Mel Gibson made his famous film about the truly best Man — and God — Who ever lived.)

Eldredge does devote considerable time to God Himself. Yet at times his portrayal of the Almighty is downright human — as another reviewer wrote, this is “God in Man’s Image.”

God is the ultimate Wild Man, Eldredge maintains. He enjoys taking risks. And His creation ultimately reflects that wildness, Eldredge writes, by way of thunderstorms, pods of killer whales, great white sharks, rattlesnakes and angry, charging bull moose.

“After God made all this, he pronounced it good, for heaven’s sake,” Eldredge explains.

Hold up. Read over that Wild list for a moment and consider: thunderstorms, sharks, rattlesnakes and bellowing moose can kill people. And if God makes all this because He’s wild and likes challenge and adventure, therefore — part of God’s “adventure” is killing people?

But Eldredge is nowhere near wanting to make God the infamous “author of sin.” In fact, he reveals his views as drastically opposite. “In an attempt to secure the sovereignty of God, theologians have overstated their case,” which results in a chess-player God Who directly causes sin, Eldredge says. “Clearly, this is not so. God is a person who takes immense risks.”

Of course, Eldredge assures readers he’s not advocating Open Theism. For those unfamiliar with the term, the word “heresy” will do instead, for it describes an unbiblical God Whom you can surprise. Yes, some may indeed “overstate” God’s sovereignty and decide He plays both sides of the chessboard; but Eldredge goes to the opposite extreme. Both hyper-Calvinists’ and Eldredge’s Open Theist versions of God have Him directly causing sin and death — the latter view begging that conclusion because God is a risk-taking, “wild” Deity.

Informed Christians understand the original creation was “very good” (Genesis 1:31). And it was “wild” and adventurous enough without moose chasing people all over the place. Eldredge goes outside of Scripture in merely that explanation. It is enough to undermine his whole foundation. But his errors hurtle even closer to the cliff’s edge from there.

Later, Eldredge re-describes the Rebellion in Genesis, running the narrative like everything else through his own standard gender-roles filter. Evidently the reason for Adam’s sin was not rebellion against God’s law, or wanting to be like God. Instead, the first created man “gave in to paralysis,” Eldredge writes. “He denied his very nature and went passive.”

Indeed, a case can be made that this is a secondary aspect of the Rebellion or a consequence of sin — that men forsake their roles as leaders and give way to passivity. But it’s not the cause of the first sin! God in Genesis and everywhere else in Scripture made it clear that idolatry ruined everything first and everything else is just secondary. Still, this is the “wild, wild” world of Eldredge, where apparently only denying gender roles ruined everything.

Just understand not only God’s wild nature, but how Adam denied his own wild nature in God’s image, and all men’s other problems are made clear, Eldredge contends. That includes the “wound” that every man supposedly inherits, likely passed down by his own father. Here Eldredge abandons Scripture even more and instead goes all secular-psychologist on readers.

The wounded before the spiritually dead?

Again Eldredge’s myopia is clear: A man’s denial of his Wildness or a Wild God is indirectly tied to the Wound he must have received as a growing boy. Here multiple male anecdotes come into play, chimed in by song lyrics: many men, Eldredge among them, give their accounts of mistreatment from their fathers, who may have told their sons they were worthless, would amount to nothing, and other condemnations.

Once more, a one-size-fits-all approach. If you’ve formed a False Self, or if you’re hurting, it’s your father’s fault.

To be sure, no thinking person would deny that is true for countless people, in a world of rebellion that often has rejected God’s designated roles for men and women and the sexes’ very real differences. But to portray all men as suffering the same affliction without regard for diverse circumstances, other problems and altogether common sense — it’s a cause/effect procedure, a diagram from a book — is rather a “wild” concept indeed. Yet it’s been common to some psychiatrists and approaches to therapy — un-Biblical ones — for years.

Comedy columnist Dave Barry spoofed this approach in a mid-1980s column, reprinted in Dave Barry’s Bad Habits:

PSYCHIATRIST: And what seems to be the trouble?

PATIENT: I’ve been having these horrible, splitting headaches.

PSYCHIATRIST: And when did these headaches begin? Around the time you realized your father was a horrible man?

PATIENT: No, my father was a wonderful man. My headaches began last week, when I was working under a car and the jack broke and the car fell on my head. I’ve also been bleeding from my ears.

PSYCHIATRIST: I see. And was your father’s name Jack?

Eldredge goes far outside the Scripture again when he contends that men must come clean about their “wound.” It sounds almost like an altar call to salvation, except for one crucial element. Eldredge, in effect, maintains that wounded men must admit and repent — repent the fact that It Wasn’t My Fault.

A quoted scene from the movie Good Will Hunting plays this out. A psychiatrist must get his patient to “repent” by admitting several times that It Wasn’t His Fault. “It’s not your fault,” the psych tells “Good Will” over and over. “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.” Until finally Will breaks down and is forced to admit the fact that — well, he’s guilty of nothing.

Eldredge skips over the fact that Biblically every man is guilty of a heinous crime: insidious rebellion against a holy God! Of course, many men’s fears and the factors that have led to their problems are often unavoidable, but that’s the result of another man’s rebellion against God that has led to the man’s maltreatment of others.

Rebellion against God is the true Wound, but it’s much worse than just an injury: the Bible is clear that humans are dead in their sins (Ephesians 2:1-9, Colossians 2:13). And the Biblical God, because of His sovereign, holy nature, is repulsed. Therefore Christ, because of His mercy, will resurrect His people from that death as He resurrected Himself. Only then can He begin work on the numerous scars and wounds committed on the person after he was killed.

Eldredge doesn’t just write about working a surface treatment for a living person’s wounds. Instead, he presents a Savior Who will stitch wounds (real or merely perceived) without first resurrecting the individual from his or her spiritual death.

Such a view is understandable, at least from a human point of view. If a doctor stands before a battlefield filled with the wounded and dying, and those already dead, he should tend to the wounded first. But the Almighty God, as is typical for Him by human standards, does take a “wild” approach: He raises the dead first! He can do that!

Dismissing ‘doctrinal Nazis’?

That is Wild at Heart’s mortal wound: Eldredge skips over the rebels-and-resurrections doctrines. He seems to assume you’ve already read the Bible, or may somehow get into those other peripheral things such as sin and Grace after you’ve dealt with your father’s nasty treatment or your own vital desperation to prove yourself a man.

But any criticisms of his worldview, based on the felt-needs framework and “gender recovery” mind trips, won’t be well-received. Early on, Eldredge dismisses those concerned with sound teaching as “self-appointed doctrine police” who practice “doctrinal Nazism.”

Like most, he’s likely referring to those who swerve too far into Pharisaical legalism, which stifles true growth in the Person of Christ. But such an approach miscasts the Pharisees and gets the problem completely backwards: the Pharisees’ flaw wasn’t forcing everyone to accept their correct and proper Biblical doctrines. It was making up new rules, with if/then, cause/effect approaches to every problem, and saying they were equivalent to what was actually in Scripture.

That is exactly what Eldredge has himself done. The “wild” focus has led him in the book to proof-text Scripture to support his redefinitions of God, human rebellion and the seriousness of humankind’s “wound.” And he naïvely applies these concepts to all unspiritual or “problem” men, rather than sourcing his views in the actual Bible.

Perhaps sticking with the Scripture is all the more becoming the truly “wild” concept in the Church, while too many of its members increasingly seek after psychology and worldly traditions rather than the Person of Christ Himself. His Word should never be replaced by the worldly wisdom of men — either “wild” men or otherwise.

“God, I thank you that I am not an Evangelical Arminian. They drive me insane, filling churches with false converts and talking only about Man’s Free Will, ignoring Your sovereignty over all. They swallow up any teaching without discernment and don’t care about systematic theology.

“But I have my shelves full of textbooks about doctrine, and I study them hard, as often as I can, and make it a point to talk about my favorite parts with everyone I meet. I avoid pastors who talk too much about human choice and don’t make sure to clarify every single time that really it is God’s choice anyway. I read only nonfiction and don’t need to expose myself to impractical things. And I listen only to expositional sermons about favorite Scripture passages.”

We need a revolution in the Church!

The Church is too (fill in blank) and/or not enough (fill in blank) and we need to be Radical for Christ. Christians are too (select one: Americanized, comfortable, cultural, non-missional, risk-averse) and we must Return to the Ideal Church of Yesteryear. We’re much too used to the way things are; it’s time to abandon that and finally go out and Change the World!

I’ve heard this often. Thought that way often, too. Sometimes I still do. And it’s easy to think so, because a) younger people think they have their ancestors’ sins all figured out, and b) very often we have figured them out, and can see the flaws in those who’ve come before.

This is not limited to “emergent” professing Christians either. I’ve seen this in some “young restless Reformed.” Again, they’re often right. Too few Christians really are “radical” enough.

Yet along with being encouraged to take risks for God and figure out what Christianity really means and finally sell out your life to Jesus and go wherever He takes you — I have begun to wonder, apparently along with many others, if we aren’t becoming a little imbalanced.

Let’s narrow this subject to be about those who truly are Christians, not those who hijack Jesus mostly to promote modern social movements (often with liberal, non-orthodox emphases). The fact is, we’re prone to many of the same errors, and just because we’re concerned about being Biblically correct and orthodox, and read Edwards and Spurgeon, doesn’t mean we’re immune to an imbalanced kind of Radicalism Idolatry.¹

Is it possible that in our haste to be all radical and world-changing, we’re not also prone to:

1) Being unloving to older Christians, even less doctrinally solid ones, even family members without whom we never would have gotten to this spiritually superior point?

I pause and shift in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Guilty.

2) Worshiping a more-direct Christian Ministry™, while minimizing the importance of, or even coming to despise, other lines of work — such as business or parenting — that in Christ are just as much “ministry” as a more-overt Radical calling to foreign missions or pastoring a church?

Also guilty, and for months and perhaps years I subconsciously buried my talents in the ground, wondering to myself whether God could really use me in powerful ways even if I was only writing feature stories five days a week for community newspapers, or blogging Christian topics.

3) Doing what author/pastor Kevin DeYoung describes below, and basing our lives on a sort-of Christian-conference high and mostly exhortations to be radical, and as a result despising the “day of small things” when God is working in radical ways, even if we cannot see them?

Guilty times three. At age 17, I was a latecomer to the Christian camp scene, and coming home I felt all so spiritual, a New Stage of Christian living. I haven’t been back to camp since, and the few conferences I have attended were good ones, such as New Attitude (now Next).

In 2006 one of the New Attitude speakers, Josh Harris, directly encouraged his listeners not to fall for the Christian-conference high thing. That often leads to discouragement, Harris said. Once the air of real life becomes thicker, and you fight with your parents or neglect to read the Bible — you forget how God works radically, as DeYoung said, even in “the day of small things.”

And it was just this year that DeYoung incidentally furthered this point, in his May 30 message about “The Church” (download the MP3) about how Christians ought to view local churches.

Today Sovereign Grace head C.J. Mahaney blogged about DeYoung’s closing points. I’ll reproduce his transcript here.² This is so encouraging, and essential when the Next Big Thing/Leader/Cause comes along, from outside or inside true Christianity, and could make us feel unnecessarily guilty for being right where God does want us, being a “plodding visionary” for Him.

It is easy to blast the church for all her failures. It is harder to live in the church day after day, year after year, with all of the ho-hum, hum-drum, and slowly, consistently make a difference[. …]

What we need are fewer revolutionaries and a few more plodding visionaries. So we need to ask the right questions, we need to have the right expectations, and we need to establish the right vision. [… He asks listeners to turn to Zechariah chapter 8.]

Here’s my burden for our generation […] along with all of the necessary pleas we have to be earnest and intense and radical and sold out — with all of that, I just also want to wave the banner from Zechariah 4:10: Do not despise the days of small things.

That’s what I mean by being plodding visionaries.

So if you’re a visionary, you don’t have your head in the sand. You’re going somewhere. You’re looking out, you’re moving in a direction! But you’re a plodder — one foot in front of the other.

Many of us are attracted to a Tasmanian Devil kind of Christianity! You remember, from Looney Tunes, spinning around? I attempted to do the impression, but you know what’s he’s like — rwlrghhkrghh — splattering, spinning around! You get fired up — and praise God for that — you get excited, and you spin out like the Tasmanian Devil, ready to conquer the world for Christ — and you blow up into a tree somewhere.

We need plodding visionaries.

When I wrote the book on the church, I read nine books that called for a revolution. Every other day it seems like I read of a new manifesto. And we may need to just simplify a little: get on the right road, and keep going. Get on the right road, keep going.

Our generation in particular is prone to radicalism without follow-through.

We want to change the world and we’ve never changed a diaper.

You want to make a difference for Christ? Here’s where you can start: this Sunday, volunteer for the nursery. “Here I am, pastor. What can I do to serve?”

“Thou shalt not kill.” Hmm, but doesn’t God kill people? He sounds very nasty to me.

(Cue references to Old-Testament wars, pagan kings getting heads chopped off, etc.)

It’s been a while since I’ve heard that. It’s sometimes spoken as a genuine question, but from what I’ve seen, much more often used as a cheap debate “point.”

One could certainly say much more about the difficult nature of hearing that God did command the Israelites to wage war against other peoples. But suffice it to say, the verse in newer, less-likely-to-be-misread translations actually reads:

… And the clear, main meaning is that of killing someone intentionally, of one’s own volition.¹

This does not apply to God, Who had His reasons for telling His people to kill others, to avoid the others’ sin and corruption.

Either way, a non-Christian would be stumped to explain how, exactly, it would be wrong for a stronger group to conquer a weaker group, even if they did falsely do so in the name of a mean nasty tribal “god.” After all, isn’t this simply species evolution in action?

Author Randy Alcorn asks in his most recent book If God is Good, why it is that many atheists claim to reject God because others suffer — while so many people who do the actual suffering are drawn even closer to that same God.

While Western atheists turn from belief in God because a tsunami in another part of the world caused great suffering, many brokenhearted survivors of that same tsunami found faith in God. This is one of the great paradoxes of suffering. Those who don’t suffer much think suffering should keep people from God, while many who suffer a great deal turn to God, not from him.

Imagine eavesdropping on a conversation between [atheist and supposed "former Christian" author/activist Bart] Ehrman and the very people whose suffering he uses as an argument for disbelieving in God. After hearing Ehrman’s case, someone says, “You’ve lost your faith because of my suffering? But my faith in God has grown deeper than ever. Why would I turn away from the only one who can comfort me, the only one who has planned eternal life for me, the only one who suffered immeasurably, beyond any of us, so that one day I need suffer no longer?”

You won’t find the strongest Christian churches in the world in affluent America or Europe, where the problem of evil [as a debate issue] has the most traction. In Sudan, Christians are severely persecuted, raped, tortured, and sold into slavery. Yet many have a vibrant faith in Christ. People living in Garbage Valley in Cairo make up one of the largest churches in Egypt. Hundreds of thousands of India’s poor are turning to Christ. Why? Because the caste system and fatalism of Hinduism give them no answers. So they turn to a personal God who loves them and understands suffering. I have interviewed numbers of people who take comfort in knowing that this life is the closest they will ever come to Hell.

Later, Alcorn quotes the final “nihilism”-laced paragraphs of Ehrman’s book (which is rather cheekily titled God’s Problem). First he presents Ehrman’s encouragement to seek money, material goods, nice cars and homes and families and the good life. Then Alcorn continues with the quote:

What we have in the here and now is all that there is. We need to live life to its fullest and help others as well to enjoy the fruits of the land. … But just because we don’t have an answer to suffering does not mean that we cannot have a response to it. Our response should be to work to alleviate suffering wherever possible and to live life as well as we can.

Do you see the inconsistency here? If we follow Ehrman’s advice to “drive nice cars and have nice homes” and consume expensive meals and drinks and spend as much as we can—in fact, “the more the better”—then we will not be working to alleviate suffering whenever possible.

What percentage of the royalties from Ehrman’s best-selling book has he ear-marked for easing world suffering? If it seems unfair to ask, remember that I am merely applying the standard he expects God to live up to: using all of one’s resources to relieve suffering. Does Ehrman place himself under the same condemnation he places God? Based on the lifestyle he seems to advocate, the answer appears to be no.

These questions seemed appropriate in my response this morning to a young man who claims to embrance “nihilism.” However, he admits his life has been an easy one and he has not really suffered like others do.

And this, as Alcorn and many others note, is the problem with such religious faith in life’s supposed meaninglessness: they cannot deal with the “problem of good” any more than some Christians struggle to address the “problem of evil.” Furthermore, without belief in a God who is good, there is no “problem of evil” anyway — for no belief  or action can truly be called “evil.”

Phil Johnson has just asked people not to debate the Age of the Earth on his Facebook page, after he Tweeted/posted this:

What to do with Dr. Mohler’s Ligonier message? Biologos is fumbling and scrambling: http://bit.ly/95ie0x

This gives me great relief, because I’m very busy today and had to fight the dreaded Debate Draw! But now I have better reasons to ignore and move on, not engaging some of the popular ideas that have recurred there.

That includes this one:

I’ve always held to an old earth idea…after all, Jesus did make aged wine at the wedding feast…so its not beyond God to make things that are aged already.

Yet if one assumes this is true, consider a few points and questions:

1. Why didn’t God reveal the Earth was far older than we’d thought?
If God did create Earth to “look old,” He also inspired His primary revelation in a written Word that gives us the “appearance” of a “younger” Earth. Why include lists of generations (likely without significant gaps¹) that when added together in ways the original authors would have meant, yield ages of thousands of years, not millions/billions?

2. How does “God made with appearance of age” help anyway?

John’s Gospel reveals the wine Jesus made was superior in quality, so we might guess it did seem to be old (John 2: 1-11). However, Jesus made this wine quickly — it was, in fact, young. If the “God made with appearance of age” idea has any merit, it would still prove the “young-earthers’ ” point: that despite whatever things appear to be, the world is not that old and was made in six short days.

3. So what does on “old earth” look like?

Do we have a version of Earth that we know for sure is old, so we can compare it with this Earth? Without historical witnesses, who decides the age? And why should we accept conclusions about history based on the words of scientists who

a) were not there to witness and record it?

b) decide a priori that evidence shall not be interpreted according to views that integrate God or Biblical truth, but instead with Only Naturalism Allowed presupposed rules?

c) make little distinction between present-day operational science and their own constructs of unobservable, nonrepeatable history?

4. What did the Flood do?

If God made the Earth with “appearance of age,” and that age included fossils, the global Flood would have destroyed them all anyway. Some try to get around this by positing a “tranquil flood,” or even less Biblical, a local flood. But again God is left surely guilty of deceiving His readers, for the constant repetition of the flood’s worldwide nature in Genesis 6-9.

5. Will we ever get past the same old “science vs. religion” myths and the even bigger myth of “neutral” scientists?

Some may never understand this, but the argument really isn’t over millions or thousands of years anyway. Rather, does the book of Genesis mean what it says, based on its genre and how its Author, and the human authors He inspired, intended it?

A Christian cannot add the secular-origins-science belief in millions of years into Genesis without also adding death, disease and suffering, for both animals and whatever human-like creatures preceded Adam and Eve. Such addition not only fails to respect Genesis, or actually reconcile the Biblical account and evolution-based origins science, but results in a greater difficulty for the Gospel: in such a view, a “loving” God approves of death, disease and suffering.

There’s less (or no) reason to oppose death, disease and suffering now.

By comparison with historical “fact” of particles-to-people evolution, the doctrines of God being love and creating His world with love sound senseless and pathetic.

The same God created using millions of years of death and suffering, then called it “good,” acted as though Adam’s and Eve’s sin was the problem, not Him, then inspired a book that misleads us.

Conclusion

I’ve written this quickly, and it could sound more callous than my usual style.

Christians can certainly believe in secular-science notions of history, and I know many good Christians who do. Maybe they haven’t thought about it, or maybe they have studied the issues and come away legitimately convinced in mixing evolution-based history constructs with Biblically based history constructs.

But taken to its logical conclusion, adding millions-of-years evolution to Scripture erodes the Gospel’s foundation and cheapens the very reason Jesus needed to die for His people.

Yet it’s a testament to God’s grace that He keeps such people in the faith, loving them and using them mightily for His Kingdom, regardless of such Gospel-eroding beliefs. I suppose either way, He gets the glory.