Continued from part 1: a review, with careful questions, of Sarah Young’s bestselling Jesus Calling.

Real promises: weakened, ignored or denied

“My writings must be consistent with [the Bible’s] unchanging standard.” I’m not sure if Young understands what a vital goal that is. Back in Old Testament days they used to stone men who “prophesied” something God didn’t say. Now some believe the gift of prophecy Paul discussed with the Corinthians is identical — and that is a related issue, but Young does not even try to prove her “listening” to God is Biblical. She simply assumes it is, then starts, and doesn’t even explain how it is that God’s words to her will also apply to readers; I’m confused!

Of course, if God had promised He would communicate more with His people using impressions during quiet times, I wouldn’t be criticizing this. However, He never promised He would.

Yes, of course He could do this. But the fact that God could do many things is not proof that He has or will. Even a VeggieTales episode portrayed this well: God could turn Larry the Cucumber into a chicken, but as Bob the Tomato reminded Larry, God only does what He wants to do. Scripture tells us how He has revealed what He wants us to know about Him: Scripture alone.

Even if God had chosen to reveal new things to “listeners” today, it must be consistent with His previous revelation. Otherwise He is a liar, and not the loving, truthful God He promised He is.

But despite giving credit to Scripture alone as being inspired, Jesus Calling’s author treats the precious, revealed Scripture in a very casual and cavalier fashion, frequently throughout the devotions. Her partial quoting of verses, often mixed with her own opinions of what Jesus was telling her that particular day, bypasses the context of each passage, and the whole Bible itself.

The first woeful result: this weakens the power of Scripture’s promises. For example, Jeremiah 29:11 is a wonderful proof of how God promised to remember the Jews even during their exile (which He Himself had promised and carried out because of their disobedience). But Young quotes only that verse, apart from context, apart from the glorious encouragement that God not only made this promise to them, but fulfilled it. She makes the “promise” not only narrowly personal but pathetic. The only reason we know God will do the same for us — which is promised more directly in other Scriptures — is because He has a track record, a history.

It’s typical of evangelicals to repeat God’s promises without their contexts, which actually would render them more powerful and encouraging. Why quote only partially? We treat no other book or writer like this. Is it more loving to Jesus to listen only to parts of His more-sure promises? How would He feel about any of us salvaging His words from the page, or our own memories — anyone steeped in evangelical culture for years could do this — for our own goals, and not His?

Second, Young’s partial quotes of Scripture phrases frequently end up ignoring what God has already and explicitly said. At random (that’s another wrong way of reading any book, including the Bible!) I flipped to Young’s personal-turned-meant-for-others entry for June 18:

You are my beloved child. I chose you before the foundation of the world, to walk with Me along paths designed uniquely for you. Concentrate on keeping in step with Me, instead of trying to anticipate My plans for you. If you trust that My plans are to prosper you and not to harm you, you can relax and enjoy the present moment.

Is this all just a pack of lies? No. But has Jesus really said this, in that order? Also no. Young italicizes the “I chose you …” to indicate its Biblical origin and cites the reference, along with others. But she ignores the fact that Paul was writing (Ephesians 1: 3-10) about a Christian’s salvation from spiritual death thanks to Christ’s death, redemption of us and resurrection: the Gospel! Instead she misappropriates this phrase as if it’s only about a Gospel result: following “paths designed uniquely for you.” This both weakens the actual promise and ignores the core truth: that only through the Gospel of Christ’s grace and forgiveness of our sins do we have any hope of staying on His paths for us. Because of this ignoring what God has truly said, whether intentional or simply careless, Young’s pep talk is neither loving nor encouraging. Despite her intentions, it becomes a lie by omission and a “unique path” that isn’t so unique as legalistic.

That leads to a third and last tragic result of Young’s attempts to speak on Jesus’ behalf: Jesus Calling implicitly denies the Gospel. This is perhaps the worst lie of omission in the book: in 365 devotions, Young never finds time to emphasize how Jesus came to Earth to fulfill the Law and die to save from sins. He came not just to show a better way to live or give us His special Peace and Presence that help in our troubles — any self-help speaker could do that. Instead Jesus showed the more amazing love: He died for His people’s sins to reconcile them and His creation to God the Father.

Any book that bypasses that — as if expecting someone else to take care of that tangential, trivial part of the Bible — does not help point people to the true-life Jesus. This “Jesus” ends up being only a solution for personal problems and a balm for one’s soul during quiet times. He’s not the actual Savior Who saves us not just from our little failings and imperfections, but from our initial hatred of God, and does all things for God’s glory.

Any professing Christian book ignoring that is not offering improved love, or bonus-feature love, but no real love.

Relationship through truth

My goal is not to be a mean “watch-blogger” type, or to act as though any imaginative portrayal of Jesus or creative work is an assault on the truth of Scripture’s sufficiency. As a fiction author myself, I’ve written “dialogue” for Jesus, and even imagined what He would say to a man who somehow visited the New Earth before he died! But all artistic endeavors, all imaginings of what Jesus would say or do in a particular situation, must be grounded in God’s actual Word. And is it really loving, both to the real Jesus and to our Christian brothers and sisters, to act as though we have managed to reach some spiritual plateau and received new words from Him?

Let us say I come home today after work and reunited with my loving wife. Then she begins telling me about her day, what thoughts she’s had, what goals she’s accomplished, anything she has done or hopes to do. What if I nodded politely, telling her (and others later) how much I appreciate what she says — but then go off by myself, in a quiet room, and wrote down what I thought she would say to me, even while using half-remembered phrases she did say?

This approaches too close to some of the rhetoric I have heard from those who say they want “relationship” but don’t need to worry about all that truth-and-doctrine stuff. I just want to know the real Jesus, they say, and all this theology and learning facts gets in the way.

Fortunately, Young does not say that. But she also never reminds us that true love for a person does not come apart from careful, grace-based, intentional listening to what he actually said. One can memorize facts about a figure without loving him or being in a close relationship, but one cannot love a person apart from caring and loving what he has said about what he is like.

Objection: But I’ve been in so many churches where everyone is all about dry facts and figures about Jesus. What I really need is rest in Him and have His peace, not just more things to do and truths to know about Him, “doctrine” without love. Why are you picking on this book?

Yet any professed “doctrines” about Jesus also become lies by omission, if separated from love for others in Christ — the same love the Father showed us by sending Him to redeem us.

Therefore, I would simply ask: how does correcting for lies-by-omission with more of the same help fix the problem? Jesus does promise rest, absolutely (as in Matt. 11:28). But the best rest we can receive in Him is because He has forgiven us — not just for stressing out or failing to believe His promises to help guide us, but from our rebellion against God Himself.

That is a greater story, and a far greater love, for the actual Jesus Christ.

Christians shouldn’t oppose creative re-presenting of His truth, either in fiction or nonfiction, including devotional books. But we must love the real Jesus. And He calls us to truth, and better honor His precious Word — the same Word that Peter said is “more sure” (2 Peter 1:16-20) even than Peter’s incredible experience on a mountaintop.

Stephen, a book reviewer who hopes to combine Biblical truth with God-honoring imagination,

To all the readers of a little hardback that was the Christian bestseller of 2010, and with hopes that these will see that I seek to support a real and true relationship with Jesus Christ,

Grace and peace to you! Yet might I honestly ask some questions about this book?

In her introduction to Jesus Calling, author Sarah Young says she knows these devotionals do not equal Scripture’s importance. Nevertheless, she writes “as” Jesus, in the first person, and doesn’t even attempt to find in the more-sure Word a precedent to seek God’s words that way.

Instead her reasons seem to be: doing this is what she needed and it helped. It works for me, so a) it’s right, b) it’ll also work for you. Did I read that wrong?

While sharing her life story of learning, church-planting work and counseling, Young admits, “I knew that God communicated with me through the Bible, but I yearned for more.” That seems to imply she’s already read the Bible, been there, done that, and knows everything that’s in it, and is therefore ready to move on to something better. For her, that superior method includes “waiting quietly in God’s Presence, pencils and papers in hand, recording the messages they received from Him,” as once did two anonymous authors of another book called God Calling.

But does the actual Word from God recommend doing this? Why does Young seem to expect “the Presence” (her term) to speak new words? Scripture says the Holy Spirit’s job is to show us Christ and His Word, sufficient for our needs (1 Timothy 3: 16-27). Why desire more?

In Ephesians 1, the apostle Paul’s loving letter to a new church, he prays for them: not that they would find new wisdom, but that they would have “the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints” (verse 18), through Christ’s death and resurrection. Jesus, open their eyes to the amazing salvation and spiritual riches You’ve already given them!

Young does credit the Bible as “the only inerrant Word of God,” but after explaining how her wish for more led her to “listen” for other “personal messages” and “directives” from God. But why not focus on the Word? “My writings must be consistent with that unchanging standard,” she says, and thank God for that. But why write messages “from Jesus” at all, for ourselves or for others? I know I haven’t mastered the Bible in a 101 course and am now ready for more! But even if Young had mastered Scripture, why does she ignore the Bible’s Gospel narrative — the holy God sent His Son to save sinners? That actually weakens His love and promises.

“My writings must be consistent with that unchanging standard.” Are they? Might we test this book in love, the same way we do any preacher or writer who claims to speak for God?

An allegory

Allegories are helpful. This one breaks down only because Jesus is real. Otherwise, consider:

My darling, you may have heard such different accounts of me so as puzzle you exceedingly. But though I am absent you today, my heart ever returns to think of you and anticipate greatly when we will reunite. Permanent happiness shall be ours, with passions (that) were stronger than our virtue. And now as I plan to return from London in a fortnight, know that my love remains with you. You may not know how this began; neither did I, for I cannot fix on the hour, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. … I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun. Do contemplate my return and think of me in return, for it is our quiet times together I treasure the most.

Very truly yours,

Your Mr. Darcy

Photo illustration by yours truly

This could be the next great literary success: Mr. Darcy Calling, with daily devotions “from” Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy himself, brooding and mysterious, owner of Pemberly, hero of Jane Austen’s classic Pride and Prejudice. In fact, quotes from Pride and Prejudice itself — the parts where Mr. Darcy was talking — are in the above letter as I “listened” to him, to relay his thoughts to you, gentle reader. My past experience with Pride and Prejudice allows me to know what Mr. Darcy wants and what he’s daily thinking about: you, and how much he desires your company.

Yes, Pride and Prejudice is the only source for learning what Mr. Darcy did and said, and what we know about him from his creator, the actual author, and what is also mysterious about him. But don’t you feel like you want to know more than that? Like you want his actual Presence?

… Just a few little issues that all those nitpicky Austen book purists will take with my approach:

1. Pride and Prejudice was not intended to be read this way. Even assuming Mr. Darcy were a real person, the only sure record we have of his doings is the novel itself!
2. The italicized quotes do not place what he said in the rightful contexts.
3. Mr. Darcy’s dialogue takes place in completely different settings than a Letter to You, Gentle Reader. Sometimes he was talking with Elizabeth Bennet, his actual love!
4. Pride and Prejudice is not meant to be read piecemeal. It has an overarching storyline.
5. Elizabeth Bennet is nowhere in the 365 “devotions.” Her role, and Mr. Darcy’s courtship of and eventual marriage to her, is integral to the story. You can’t just hijack a real-life person (again, imagine he’s real) and “listen” for new messages from him to another.
6. The “quotes” give lip-service to the original book, but are useless and even contradictory additions. For example, Mr. Darcy does not endorse passions stronger than virtue.

And if I have let errors slip into this open letter’s Pride and Prejudice portion, such as minor plot disparities, or misspelling Elizabeth Bennet’s last name with two Ts instead of one (which I haven’t) — why should those trifling oversights get in the way of having a Personal Relationship with Mr. Darcy, or my own qualification to speak on his behalf?

Seriously, I hope no one who respects Jane Austen and Pride and Prejudice would decry these six critical questions as ignoring a need to have a “personal relationship” with Mr. Darcy. Why? Because this “Darcy” is made-up, based on partly remembered quotes from the book. It gives lip-service to the book, such as the character’s name and origins and some traits, but the very existence of this product implicitly says: Austen just didn’t say enough to help. Now it’s my turn.

How might Jesus feel to hear His wonderful Word so dismissed? Moreover, can one say he or she wants a personal relationship with Christ, and then decide not to listen to what we know He said — or, even with good intentions, listen to someone else who wasn’t listening?

On Friday: how does Jesus Calling consider the complete and in-context promises of Scripture?

Christians who say we should do evangelism, not politics, may miss out on Biblical ways God uses to promote the Gospel and allow His grace to influence our nations, argues Wayne Grudem in Politics According to the Bible.

You can read his whole first chapter here (PDF download), courtesy of Justin Taylor.

First Grudem offers Biblically based and -inferred thoughts on “Five Wrong Views about Christians and Government,” some of which I relisted and quoted here.

Perhaps the fourth view he addresses is more commonly occurring to solid, well-meaning and Gospel-driven Christians, who want to avoid the Church’s un-Biblical overemphasis on politics in the past. As a result, they may ignore what the Bible does say about influencing world leaders for good, and God’s ministry through “secular” governments as Paul reminds us in Romans 13.

In chapter 1, Grudem busts several Christian myths about politics — again, most of them very understandable, especially when compared with opposite excesses — reminding us:

1. [This view has] Too narrow an understanding of “the Gospel” and the kingdom of God.

“The Gospel” in the New Testament is not just “trust Jesus and be forgiven of your sins and grow in holiness and go to heaven” (though that is certainly true, and that is the heart of the Gospel and its foundational message). No, the Gospel is God’s good news about all of life!

2. The “whole Gospel” includes a transformation of society.

Of course we must proclaim forgiveness of sins through faith in Christ alone. Of course this is the only way that people’s hearts will be truly transformed.

But forgiveness of sins is not the only message of the Gospel. That is because Jesus is looking for transformed lives and through them a transformed world.

3. Which parts of the Bible should the church not preach about?

“What parts of the Bible have you decided not to preach about because you are ‘just going to preach the Gospel’?” Have you decided that you won’t preach on Romans 13:1–7? Or that you won’t preach on 1 Peter 2:13–14? What about Genesis 9:5–6?

4. God leaves Christians here on earth both to do evangelism and to do good for others.

When people trust in Christ as their Savior and have their sins forgiven, why does God not snatch them up to heaven immediately? Why does he leave them here on earth? Is it only so that they would preach the Gospel to others? Well then, what are those people supposed to do after they trust in Christ as Savior? Is their only purpose on earth to preach the Gospel to others, or does Jesus want us to do some other things, such as loving our neighbors as ourselves (see Matt. 22:39)? ¹

5. God established both the church and the government to restrain evil.

I agree that one significant way that God restrains evil in the world is through changing people’s hearts when they trust in Christ as their Savior (see 2 Cor. 5:17). But we should not turn this one way into the only way that God restrains evil in this age. God also uses civil government to restrain evil, and there is much evil that can only be restrained by the power of civil government, for there will always be many who do not trust in Christ as their Savior and many who do not fully obey him.

6. Christians have influenced governments positively throughout history.

I cannot agree with John MacArthur when he says, “God does not call the church to influence the culture by promoting legislation and court rulings that advance a scriptural point of view.” [MacArthur, Why Government Can’t Save You, 130.] When I look over that list of changes in governments and laws that Christians incited, I think God did call the church and thousands of Christians within the church to work to bring about these momentous improvements in human society throughout the world. Or should we say that Christians who brought about these changes were not doing so out of obedience to God? That these changes made no difference to God? This cannot be true.

(Tomorrow: Grudem provides Biblical, provocative responses to objections such as, “What the church really needs is some persecution, and it’s wrong or useless to try to improve our governments and avoid that.”)

Today my church’s co-op blog, ProvPress, gets my original column — a review of Gene Edward Veith’s God at Work.

I couldn’t resist more geeking-out over Wayne Grudem’s new work Politics According to the Bible and another book, City of Man by Michael Gerson and Peter Wehner. Both of those are now on my desk, having arrived much earlier than I had expected from a certain major online retailer. It will be a little while since I read them, partly because I’m trying to kick the mostly-reading-nonfiction habit (as a fiction writer!) and partly because I’m still reading Dave Harvey’s book Rescuing Ambition.

Like Gene Veith himself, I likely once assumed I already knew the truth that God is glorified in the different roles He gives Christians. Sure, “worldly” work isn’t any less spiritual than church work, I might have said. But I doubt I sincerely believed that, which can lead to doubts and even mistrust in God — as if a “spiritual” task glorifies God more than a “secular” career.

Veith says that when a friend gave him a copy of Gustaf Wingren’s book Luther on Vocation:

I had assumed that I knew what the doctrine of vocation was; that, yes, one can do every occupation to the glory of God. […] But both Luther and Wingren said so much more. For Luther, vocation, as with everything else in his theology, is not so much a matter of what we do; rather, it is a matter of what God does in and through us. (9)

Much of Veith’s work is a condensation of both scholars’ works, bringing their truths to the lay level. “After all,” Veith notes, “it is we laypeople who most need to understand the nature of our callings in the world.”

Throughout several short chapters, Veith overviews how Christians have taught vocation in the past. Though Scripture says the world has been corrupted by sin, he says, God’s creation is still running in many ways as it should. Even those who are not saved are under a “common grace,” and God’s people find precedent in Scripture for understanding their varying callings in at least four areas: as a worker, a family member, a citizen of one’s country and a Kingdom citizen.

All the while, Veith repeats the theme of God at work through us as we fulfill our callings.

Read the rest of my review at ProvPress. …

In Passion and Purity, Elisabeth Elliot uses her love story with her first husband Jim Elliot to illustrate the practical principles of the book’s subtitle: bringing your love life under Christ’s control.

For five years she and Jim waited to pursue their relationship, because Jim knew he needed to be single for the missionary work he was undertaking at that time. During this period, Elisabeth kept detailed diaries recording her thoughts, prayers, and struggles with submitting to God’s will. It was not an easy road, but through Christ Jim and Elisabeth were able to offer their love to God and accept when His answer was “not yet.” It’s a profound lesson, and all the more when the blessing denied is such a wonderful one.

I was disappointed somewhat because I thought this book would be primarily about how to move toward purity, with some examples from Elisabeth’s life to illustrate her points. But instead it was the other way around — very autobiographical, with the principles of submission and holiness explored more incidentally.

There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. I just found myself not quite so interested in the details of her relationships with God and Jim; I wanted more focus on Scripture and practical purity. More structure would have been helpful, too.

Another thing I found problematic were some of Jim’s letters that Elisabeth quotes. Several were extremely open and honest about his sexual desire for her. I’m not a prude and I think physical desire is a gift of God and absolutely has to be addressed in any book about purity, but the desire expressed in his letters was so intensely private and very suggestive — not sinful, but not to be placed before the public eye. Some of it was so explicit as to conjure ideas that I needed to instantly dismiss. I think this places a huge limitation on how we can use and recommend this book, especially with teens.

Elisabeth frequently quotes old hymns and poems, and I found this wearing after awhile. The spiritual principles represented are timeless, but not every hymn or poem is. I like many old hymns and enjoy archaic language in poetry, and I understand they were extremely meaningful to her as she worked through these issues. These elements are just overused to the point of near-tedium.

So that’s a lot of negativity about the book. The things I liked can best be explored by quoting Elisabeth’s own words:

I am convinced that the human heart hungers for constancy… There is dullness, monotony, sheer boredom in all of life when virginity and purity are no longer protected and prized. By trying to grab fulfillment everywhere, we find it nowhere. (21)

So long as our idea of surrender is limited to the renouncing of unlawful things, we have never grasped its full meaning… (Lilias Trotter, 37)

Waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting the heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one’s thoughts. (59)

Waiting silently is the hardest thing of all… But the things that we feel most deeply we ought to learn to be silent about, at least until we have talked them over thoroughly with God. (60)

God gives us material for sacrifice. Sometimes the sacrifice makes little sense to others, but when offered to Him it is always accepted. (64)

Our vision is so limited that we can hardly imagine a love that does not express itself in protection from suffering. (84)

It is the control of passion, not its eradication, that is needed. How would we learn to submit to the authority of Christ if we had nothing to submit? (90)

There are some good principles here and I did not dislike the book overall. But this is mainly an autobiographical work and those who want a structured, organized, practical approach to biblical purity should probably look elsewhere.

Radical by David Platt, an Alabama pastor, did get a lot of things right — but did not address several issues that would have made it more balanced. That’s what I wrote in my review last week. But a few related topics remained, some leftovers I wasn’t able to get into that review.

For instance, there’s the main theme of chapter 6, “How Much is Enough?” The question, and much of the chapter, reference Mark 10 and its description of Jesus’ encounter with a rich man.

Platt summarizes the account, ending with the rich man’s dejected departure from Jesus, clearly not wanting to follow Jesus’ commandment to sell all he has and follow Him. God bless Platt, he focuses on the truth that the rich man didn’t just have a moral failing. “Fundamentally, the rich man needed a new heart, one that was radically transformed by the gospel,” Platt writes.

Radical’s author also focuses on two errors people derive from the passage: acting as if the New Testament commands all Christians to sell all they have, or assuming that “Jesus never calls his followers to abandon all their possessions to follow him.

“This means he might call you or me to do this,” Platt notes.

But how would we know that? The author stops short of offering thoughts. What solution will fill the empty space? My concern: all those assumptions about listening for some “inner leading” from God, a nudge or a pull this direction or that, are still around. And many Christians will lurch toward them automatically.

Yes, a longer discussion of discerning God’s will would take more time. But Platt was good at including other disclaimers. A short aside like this would have helped: We can’t know for sure if God wants you to sell all you have. That’s another topic (try so-and-so book about it). But we do know Scripture doesn’t support some ideas of listening for God’s “inner nudge.” Our only sure source of knowing God’s will in advance is the written Word.

Without such disclaimers, Radical could permit wrong ideas to enter readers’ minds. To be sure, that’s often not an author’s fault. But Platt’s other asides, such as the hmm-hmm-maybe-that’s-naughty line about French fries, contribute (likely unintentionally) to a guilt-inducing edge. ¹

As Kevin DeYoung notes in his critical, though friendly review:

To his credit, Platt says we don’t need to feel guilty for everything that is not an absolute necessity (127). But earlier we are made to feel bad for the money we spend on french fries (108). It is easy to stir people to action by relating how little everyone else has and how much we have in America, but we are not meant to have constant low-level guilt because we could be doing more.

Even more than Platt’s French fries part, this aside from page 77 provoked my raised eyebrow:

In all this missions talk, you may begin to think, Well, surely you’re not suggesting that we’re all supposed to move overseas. That is certainly not what I’m suggesting (thought I’m not completely ruling it out!).

And why not completely rule that out? No — let’s completely rule it out! If the entire body were in overseas missionary work, where would the sense of domestic missionary work be? If the entire body were on the missionary dole, where would the sense of financial support be?

It doesn’t take much to show why Christians should avoid even hinting that one ministry calling would be better than another. That is true even if they’re passionate about certain ministries, such as overseas missionary work. And I argue it’s true even if a Christian book’s audience may be the sorts of people who truly need to consider that their callings may be greater than preserving their American Dreams and leaving the harder missionary work to Those People.

Platt’s lyrics may say all the right things. I just wonder if he let slip some assumptions about the best Christian living, however unintentionally, in the music of his asides and anecdotes.

Are you overly dependent on other people? Do you care too much what they think? Or do you try to manipulate others to do what you want?

These are all forms of being controlled by other people, and you might be surprised to realize the extent of it in your own life — I certainly was. In this book, biblical counselor Edward Welch looks at what the Bible calls our “fear of man” and how we can overcome it by understanding the character of God and applying biblical principles to our relationships. Soaking in this book (which I studied with a group of wonderful, likeminded young women) was an epoch in my understanding of biblical relationships, counseling, and psychology.

Basically, our fear of man is a worship issue. We worship people because we think they can give us the love and acceptance we crave. Our goal becomes their approval or their behavior that aligns with our desires. When we worship people, they are big in our lives and God is shunted off to the side, minuscule in comparison. We make other people something that we need, and we are always controlled by what we need.

This isn’t something we can conquer if we just work up enough willpower; it is impossible to break free on our own steam. So what’s the cure? How do we train ourselves not to fear man and to fear God rightly instead?

It all starts with the Word of God, which is completely sufficient for all our needs (2 Peter 1:3). We need to meditate on the white-hot holiness of God and His awesome power. When we understand who God is, His creation becomes a lot less intimidating. We must also learn to develop a biblical worldview of God, ourselves, and others and apply that knowledge daily.

One of the things I was challenged with and enjoyed the most in this book was its perspective on secular psychology. Welch addresses the hot-button issue of needs and psychology’s view of the person as an empty “love-cup” that constantly needs to be filled. We are not empty, leaky love-cups with psychological needs. It’s true that we are needy people, but those needs are spiritual (such as salvation and sanctification), not psychological (love and good feelings about ourselves).

This flies in the face of secular psychology, which teaches that you need positive feedback from others to reach the goal of high self-esteem; that is, feeling good about yourself. The problem is that your self-image is still dependent on what other people say and think about you. It may be positive, but ultimately you are basing your view of yourself on what the imperfect people around you think. The real issue — dependence on others for feelings of self-esteem — remains unchanged.

I’ve been guilty of trying to confer self-esteem on others many times, and I can’t believe how I missed the obvious. Basically I was just training that person to continue in dependence on what other people (in this case, I) say.

The whole issue of spiritual needs versus psychological “felt needs” is one reason that so many people don’t find what they want in Jesus. They turn to Him to fill up the perceived needs of their love-cup, and He just doesn’t operate that way. He provides everything that we need, but what we need and what we think we need are two different things. Most of the things we would call “needs” are really just selfish desires. It isn’t always bad things that we’re desiring, either — most of the time it’s good things like love and relationship that we want. The problem is what we do with those good things; it’s the way we desire them that turns them into idols in our lives. We view them as our rights and feel wronged when we don’t get them.

The truth is, high self-esteem is just another term for pride. The Bible’s teaching on man is a dreary one; we are sinful, radically depraved creatures who have no legitimate reason whatsoever to feel good about ourselves. Anything good that we do has a selfish motive at some level.

I know this doesn’t jibe with the accepted bases of psychology which teach that man is essentially good, but it’s what the Word says and I’ve never met a person who wasn’t sinful and imperfect. And low self-esteem is just another form of pride too, because people with low self-esteem are still obsessed with themselves. The ideal is no self-esteem, because in that model self is peripheral, with love for God and others taking center stage in our lives. We can only be free when we are not obsessed with ourselves or with what others are thinking of us.

Our lives proceed out of our theology, as Welch says, and so he treats the basic doctrines of the character of God, the condition of man, redemption through Christ’s work on the Cross, and more. We are all theologians; we just don’t all have good theology.

The section on God’s needs (which are non-existent) is excellent because so often today God is portrayed as some desperate, begging weakling who needs us to love Him in order to experience fulfillment. This is baloney. God is perfectly self-sufficient in the unity of the Trinity; He needs nothing from us. And that is what makes His love so wonderful. He has no ulterior motive; His love is pure.

And I love how Welch makes the point that God’s goal is not us; this is most emphatically not self-esteem teaching dressed up in Christian lingo. The goal of everything God does is His own glory. If He existed to love us, that would make Him an idolater, because He would be centering Himself, the Creator, on something created! He would be no different from someone in the ancient world bowing down to an idol that he himself had fashioned. There is nothing higher in the universe than God’s glory, and so that is what He must seek if He is really a holy and perfect God.

Once Welch establishes the biblical view of needs, he can then talk about how God does fill our real needs (not our felt needs).

From there he moves on to discuss the importance of the Body of Christ and the community of believers. It’s important to note that “community” is not just a Christian idea; there is a move in secular circles toward group identities and relationships. Where the Christian should be different is in his/her motive for being involved in a community. It isn’t just another means toward self-actualization and growth (though we certainly do grow through our interactions with other believers). We should be active members of the Body of Christ because we can’t glorify God and exemplify Christ in isolation; we need others so that we can demonstrate God’s love toward them. In other words, once more it isn’t about us, but about honoring God and serving others. The goal is never a selfish one.

Of course, the community of believers — aka the church — isn’t a perfect place, and part of this chapter talks about dealing with conflict in the church. Ultimately we have to move toward others in love, even when it is costly. That’s what God has done for us. We need to ask ourselves what our duty is toward those who have hurt us, and then fulfill it. Biblical love for others will increase both our sorrows and our joys. The same principle is explored in the chapter on how to deal with enemies and “neighbors” (acquaintances, neither friends, family, or enemies). Loving enemies and even neutral neighbors is impossible without understanding God’s love for us. While we hated Him, He loved us and gave Himself for us. There is no stronger motivation to truly love others, and no other way it is possible.

Welch cites several biblical examples to demonstrate the truth of his arguments. I especially loved his treatment of the book of Hosea. What an incredible, humanly impossible demonstration of sacrificial love. His discussions of Isaiah and Job are also excellent. Welch also uses some case studies from his own ministry and some of them will hit close to home for people who have been sinned against (i.e., victimized) by others.

In addition to the great truths that Welch presents, I appreciated his engaging and seemingly effortless prose. He is eminently readable.

This was a transformational book for me. I am still walking through the cycle of conviction, repentance, and a changed worldview which leads to changed behavior. The fear of man is such an instinctive and powerful part of me, and I will probably be struggling with it till the day I die. But I am not helpless. God has given me what I need to change and has promised to complete His work in me (Philippians 1:6). With His grace working in my life, I will move closer to the goal of loving other people rather than needing them. I will learn to love as Christ loves me; God will become bigger and I (and others) will become smaller. He must increase and I must decrease. There is such freedom in that.

Fear of man will prove to be a snare, but whoever trusts in the LORD is kept safe. ~ Proverbs 29:25

(Continued from parts 1, part 2, part 3 and part 4.)

Living in light of New Earth

Finally, I run the risk of committing a similar “ministry myopia” error when I fault Platt, even slightly, for echoing a false dichotomy of living for Heaven versus living for this physical world.

Though you and I live in the United States of America now, we must fix our attention on “a better country—a heavenly one.” […] If your life or my life is going to count on earth, we must start by concentrating on heaven. (page 179)

Many Christians may not see a problem here, or even have a problem here. I can only humbly suggest that saying such things could reinforce another myth in Christendom: a myth that spiritual things, jobs and actions — such as preaching the Gospel overtly — matter more to God than material things, such as a Christian’s vocations, creations or talents.

So what I would have really appreciated here is a reminder that God plans to bring Heaven down to Earth (Rev. 21), creating a New Heavens and New Earth. With that in mind, Christians’ goals ought not be just to live for heaven and store up spiritual blessings. How we manage our time, work and talents glorifies God. And even in material, non-spiritual-sounding ways, we glorify Him and live in light of the very real, physical After-world He will create.

Conclusion

In summary, ultimately I recommend Radical, though with some uncertainty. For those already saturated in Gospel-based worldviews and are living in radical ways, it’s a great reminder — yet don’t they already know this in theory? And for more-compromising Christians who need to hear Jesus’ call to radical living, isn’t it better to teach them more about what He has done?

(Further thoughts coming next week.)

(Continued from parts 1, part 2 and part 3.)

Varying Christian vocations

Christians who are faithful dispensing coffee behind a Starbuck’s counter can be just as radical for Christ’s sake. Christians who work in business, raise their families and even own nice houses — even those who may have unwittingly compromised with a consumerism-driven life — can devote those tasks to the glory of God. Factory workers, stay-at-home moms, scholars, authors and pastors can live radically, even if they have never helped build an orphanage in Costa Rica.

I really do wish I could write that hypothetical book I mentioned earlier. Maybe someone will. For if compromising with consumerism is one blight on the church, so is a failure to see all of life — including Official Ministry such as caring for the poor and evangelizing in a foreign land — as ministry for God’s sake. This, by the way, is one surefire way to support missionaries.

Maybe a Radical sequel or two could address such things: Radical At Home, Radical At Church, Radical In the Workplace, etc. Yes, that would be much too market-driven; I suggest that only tongue-in-cheek. Yet Platt’s book almost exclusively emphasizes only Radical in Overt Ministry.

Avoiding hints of do-ism

It’s not that I’m opposed to direct explanations of what we’re supposed to do with the Gospel, not that we have it. Yet Platt seemed to explain the basis for the Christian’s radical good works, the Gospel and the rewards Christ offers, in only about 20 percent of Radical. The rest seemed to be exhortations of what to do, with only several callbacks to an assumed foundation. Though I haven’t tabulated total phrases or words, it might be a ratio of about 80 – 20, do versus done.

Even for those Christians who fit most directly into Platt’s audience — the wealthy suburbanites who have long since neglected the Gospel call in practice, even if not in belief — would it not be better to reverse the ratio? Like Scripture itself, should we focus more on done rather than do?

Such wrong views about possessions, and failures to follow Christ’s Great Commission, are not overthrown only by calls to radical living. They are overthrown by focus on the radical Gospel, God’s truly astounding nature and plan of redeemed His people, not just for their good and happiness but for His own glory. Shouldn’t that be Christians’ main points for those who still live a consumerism-driven life? Instead, Platt seemed to focus more on the fruits, and assuming the case had been made for the roots. Those still trapped in moralism won’t see much difference.

(Finally: Radical accidentally reinforces false Heaven-versus-Earth dichotomies.)

(Continued from part 1 and part 2.)

Different gifts, same Spirit

In his finale, Platt recommends five very simple options to living radically. They include: pray for the whole world, read the entire Bible in one year, sacrifice money for a specific purpose and commit to a local church. It’s the fourth item that bugs me, again not so much because of what Platt says but what he doesn’t say, and what he does imply: that truly radical Christians will be able to do some kind of missionary work in another nation, or at least an inner city area.

Jesus called His disciples, and by proxy all Christians, to find, teach and disciple new believers in the Gospel (Matt. 28). Too many Christians ignore or dismiss His call. Yet I wonder if Platt might be subtly, similarly overlooking the fact that Christians obey this call in different ways.

“[W]e know that each of us has different gifts, different skills, different passions, and different callings from God,” Platt does recognize (page 73). “God has gifted you and me in different ways.” Yet almost all of Radical, and in all but a few anecdotes, it seems Platt focuses narrowly on certain gifts: missionary work, caring for the poor, ascetic living, or personal discipleship.

No one should object to reminders of neglected foreign mission fields, or reiterating the Gospel call. But for many readers who already struggle with basic needs, who aren’t in Platt’s main audience of consumer-driven Christians, and who want to support a local church, what does the call to radical faith look like? One answer: very often it looks like being faithful in small ways, living a quiet life and working with one’s hands (1 Thess. 4:11). Very often Christians who have not devoted more time to Ministry are already being radical in their homes, churches and jobs.

Should we not encourage those who are already living “radically” in ways unique to their lives? My mother-in-law is a single mom, with two daughters still at home, and is restricted to being a nontraditional student, having striven to earn a bachelor’s degree before their life insurance runs out, and working. My own mom forsook her nursing career to raise and homeschool not only myself, but my five younger siblings; meanwhile, my father works to support his family in an intense full-time job, leaving little chance for the kinds of missionary work that get displayed in church slideshows. For any of them, trying to meet another kind of “radical” lifestyle would be sinful.

Being radical can mean different things for different Christians. It often takes on small forms. Author Kevin DeYoung calls this being a “plodding visionary.” It is not Big. But it is faithfulness.

I’m sure Platt knows this already. But shouldn’t such vital truths get more air time in Radical?

Platt does say he offers more questions than answers, and I’m certainly not looking for anyone to give an exact formula for every situation! Yet a few more disclaimers about missionary work, or praise for those living radically, outside the missionary spotlights, would have been helpful.

(Tomorrow: Radical stops short of better discussing truths of Christian vocation; and should the book’s apparent content ratios of Jesus-has-done versus you-must-do be reversed?)