Over several weeks one could say I’ve been neglecting my “job,” or part of it anyway. But why? No one, to my face anyway, has been chiding me for not writing weekly blogs over the holidays (and longer). I’m not beholden to write YeHaveHeard columns for an outside employer. And I haven’t Gone to Seminary to do this as an official Ministry.

These are all pathetic excuses. And they show how even the man who’s writing a series on Top seven risks for young restless Reformeds can fall into risk no. 5.

5. Neglecting the doctrine of Christian vocation.

Several times this subject has arisen on YeHaveHeard, mostly because I’ve been looking into it myself. Such thoughts do not come naturally, that God is just as glorified by “menial” and even “secular” jobs as He is when we do overt ministries.

But does all — yes, I do believe that should be our standard — young-restless-and-Reformed rhetoric reflect this truth? Are more Gospel-driven folks believing and speaking against the opposite view? I hope that’s not itself just a calling for some Christians, for we’re all meant to preach all of what Christ has commanded (Matt. 28: 18-20). That includes the full counsel of God in the Word. Yet I keep seeing examples of books, sermons, etc., that either assume people already get this, or else say or imply (our of ignorance, I hope?) the exact opposite:

• A Christian pastor and radio program host, in the name of preventing compromise with the truth that Scripture is sufficient, spends half an hour disparaging anyone who would want to allow liturgical dance or other creative expressions of worship in a church service. “If the Bible’s not enough, nothing is enough,” he says, and speaks not all wrongly against those who want to add special effects and other stunts to worship services. (But then, after a comical slip of the tongue, he laughs and says he didn’t mean to say we don’t need Christian radio programs like his. Why the double standard?)
• Radical, a popular book released last year by David Platt, a pastor, rightly challenges many American Christians’ blending of some favorite Christian ideas with “American dream” prosperity-style beliefs. But in proclaiming the Gospel and asking readers to apply it to their lives, Platt was quite selective in his examples: all of them related to Professional Ministry, overt church work. For examples about Christians who stay in their “secular” jobs, he only mentioned the time they might take for mission trips.
• Two Christian parents are adamant that their children must go to Bible college and learn courses specific to some kind of overt Ministry. This is the family’s default direction, it seems, without recognition for the fact that God may have gifted the children as they grow with other ways to serve in His Kingdom: engineering? artistry? full-time stay-at-home-motherhood? political activism? education? music? movie-making?

For myself, I didn’t inherit the impression that some jobs are more spiritual from any Christian teacher. Instead the “meme” is implicit, and left unopposed, in too many Christian books and slogans: If you’re doing any work besides overt Ministry, you may not be in the right place.

Or the quiet thought which surely many of us sometimes have (I’m sure it’s not just me) that says, Someday I want to quit this job and Go Into the Ministry.

Implicit in both of these suspicions: Your job is not as important as the professional Minister’s.

For Christmas my wife bought me Job-Shadowing Daniel, and when I am finished I hope to review this book by former “bi-vocational” minister Larry Peabody. His Biblical basis and experience with both “secular” and church work lends to his excellent overview of vocation truths and the life of Daniel. (See, appropriate “advertising” on this site has advantages!).

Throughout the book Peabody focuses on Daniel’s ascent in King Nebuchadnezzar’s court, every bit a bureaucrat as any legal office intern who outshines his peers — and gives Godward advice and witness at the same time. Peabody shows how Daniel was just as much a minister of God in his calling as any of the more-overtly-spiritual prophets were in theirs. Though others may have had more amazing methods of being called — such as Isaiah and Ezekiel with their visions — Daniel’s call was just as important and the plan of the sovereign God just as active in his life.

At first for me this meant purging the mental shrapnel of this-is-work-and-that-is-Ministry — sorting through and rejecting the wrong beliefs I’d picked up intellectually. Pieces of that false dichotomy are still there, but reading this book has really helped, after I’d listened to a Discover the Word radio series, read God at Work by Gene Veith and even analyzing Radical by David Platt (who gives an I’m-sure-unintentional negative example).

But more recently I believe these truths have begun sinking deeper. For me it’s begun going beyond the more-overt Ministry of showing how regular, even drudging work is part of God’s plan for His people — even in “secular” jobs, even when one isn’t actively sharing the Gospel. Instead I must apply this even more personally. Doing these dishes is glorifying God through work. Trying to get along with your family of origin: also glorifying God through work. Going to this city council meeting, interviewing this person, even covering anti-Gospel rhetoric honestly and with as much objectivity as I can muster — this glorifies God, even apart from witnessing.

One can overdo corrections for this, for sure. Already I’ve seen a few of those examples, such as in another book I’m reading. It overemphasizes “the priesthood of believers” truth almost to the point of disparaging those who are called to be an overseer or a teacher, which is certainly a legitimate and honorable calling for some Christians (example: 1 Timothy 3).

But Reformed folks could stand to start swinging back the other direction on the truth of varying vocations apart from what is popularly construed “full-time ministry.” We’re all part of “a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). Thus I hope more Gospel-driven types will ensure they’re recognizing the special role of more-overt Biblical ministers of the Gospel, such as pastors and missionaries, but also challenging “lay” ministers to fulfill their unique callings. Yes, all of us are “ministers,” as Peabody points out, and we should even stop using the term as if it denotes our ranking among a lower Christian caste!

• The Christian pastor and radio program host might recognize that his calling is to preach the Gospel directly to his congregation, and combat “compromise” with those truths on his radio program. However, he ought to be more careful about slamming any other methods of ministry as if they’re automatically equivalent with attacks on the Sufficiency of Scripture. If one of his callings is radio, why should another Christian not also worship and share the Gospel through dance or even a “program”? We should have serious conversations about whether these things can glorify God during church services, but let us not assume anything not worthy of overt-ministry service isn’t worthy at all.
• As I’ve said before, I’d love to see extended thoughts to Radical and other books, which champion proving in our lives that we’re really sold out for the Biblical Jesus out of gratitude for His lordship and salvation. My guess is that Platt, quite naturally, could only think of his particular calling while typing anecdotes for his chapters. He and other leaders might not even think of the connotations, or the fact that these reinforce the subtle idea that God is given the most glory through overt missions. Shall we share this with Platt and others, honestly, and even hope for Radical at Work, Radical at Home?
• And for Christian parents: sharing with them books such as Job-Shadowing Daniel, or perhaps a similar work about high-school age Christians trying to find their careers in Christ, may help. Gnostic ideas affect us all. All redeemed parents want to see their children succeed and be kept safe; but they simply may not have considered that the way God kept Daniel in His will was to send him into exile and assign him “pagan” jobs such as learning Babylonian mythology and “magic” (Daniel 1) and carry out often-seemingly useless bureaucratic tasks (Daniel 2, 4-6). Broader beliefs about “separation” from the world come into play here, and some Christians need to have those challenged as well. But all of this, I’m sure, must be done in the contexts of loving relationship.

Next: do YRRs feel guilty if they’re not being persecuted?

Apparently another risk for young restless Reformeds: highly inconsistent blogging. (Yes, I’m addressing that. With all of these real-life relationships and community, with family and friends to consider, I just don’t have the zone-out-on-internet time that’s so much more important.)

A recap: I’m Reformed myself, and by that I mean not just books, dry theology and asking John Calvin into my heart¹ but a perspective of trying to see everything in a God-centered way. God is large and in charge, perfectly holy, true and loving (and He defines holiness, truth and love) and His sovereignty is not only over salvation. It’s over everything: heaven, Earth, spiritual things, material things, all “menial” things.

So how come more Reformed folks aren’t thinking this way about our physical eternal destiny?

4. Missing the New Earth and its implications.

Perhaps it’s because we’re all still Reforming. None of us is Reformed, past tense, as if we already came to some zenith of knowledge and applying God’s truth and love. That won’t come until the Resurrection. But even now we do know enough about the coming Resurrection to apply its truths better in our lives — and I see some Reformed folks quite stunted in this area.

Am I all “there” yet myself? Not at all. But perhaps it helped that I didn’t just read Desiring God by John Piper and then immediately go read Jonathan Edwards and R.C. Sproul; my Desiring God reading was alongside my reading of Randy Alcorn’s fantastic book Heaven.

Piper’s book stressed that God exists primarily to exalt Himself, and thus the highest good He can give His people is not faith, not gifts, not even salvation, but all of those things for a greater goal: giving people Himself. Otherwise He would be both mean and an idolater. And Alcorn’s book stressed some very similar themes: for those who love God and are redeemed, their ultimate purpose is not some unearthly spiritoid existence in a “heaven” unlike Earth, but in a revamped and physical New Heavens and New Earth, with Christ reigning personally.

Many YRRs are indeed talking about that. For example, just today Collin Hansen, the very guy who coined the “young restless Reformed” phrase, Tweeted: “There will be no car repair in the new heavens and the new earth.” I think he must be having vehicle trouble.

But in response I asked: “How do you know? Car mechanics could glorify God!” And that is likely unnecessary to nitpick. Other issues, though, seem to be causing Reformed Christians more difficulty, and perhaps it would help if we not only acknowledged the physical nature of the coming New Earth, but considered more actively how that truth affects us now. Examples:

Do we act or speak as if God gives no blessings at all, even before the New Earth, such as rest, fellowship and even Stuff? After Francis Chan quit his California church, sure he was meant to do something even more “radical” than that, YRR-dom has been abuzz. That’s a debate we need to have, and optimally centered on questions like these: does the Bible really call all Christians to be ascetics like Chan implies? Is that kind of lifestyle really more “spiritual”?

Are we sure that in all our “Gospel-centered” emphases that we aren’t defining the Gospel’s effects too narrowly? Some, for example, imply that Christians just need to preach the Gospel, and minimize fields such as politics. Yet the Gospel also includes Scripture passages such as Romans 13, and examples of good and bad rulers in the Old Testament, and other passages that apply to human governments — and rulers will certainly be present in the New Earth. So how should Christians rightfully, honoring Christ, engage in civil government?

Might Christians accidentally get into such a “wartime mindset” (borrowing Piper’s phrase) that we forget God’s peace? Last night I was talking with a friend about this, and I had to high-five him after he said that some YRRs are too enamored with the ideas of suffering and persecution. That’s partly because previous Christians have minimized the fact that God may want us to suffer. But He might also not want that. We’re to have God’s peace either way, my friend said. And that rest that we’ll have is not only in the afterlife — the New Earth — but seeps in advance into this life as well. Let’s make sure we’re not treating the battle as more important than the victory. After all, in New Earth there won’t be any more villains to fight!

Christians who emphasize ministry as teaching, evangelism, church work — are we forgetting how God works in different vocations? More on this in my next column, but in summary, this oversight comes through not as much from pastors or authors saying, “Church work is more spiritual than your work,” but not saying all God-honoring callings are important.

For example, David Platt’s book Radical was all about asking yourself how much Jesus really means to you, and if He means everything, you will want to give everything. Platt, however — likely just because of incidental myopia — only cited examples of how Christians give up their Stuff or secular jobs in order to do more specifically Church-related work. Yet if the New Earth is our future, then we know that Christians there will be doing more than just teaching and discipleship (oh, but imagine how great that will be). And even now, I seem to recall Paul encouraging people to be “radical” in even the not-very-spiritual-sounding ways, such as being a good employee at work (Colossians 3) or loving your wife and family (Ephesians 5).

How we see our lifestyles, our worldview, our battle plans and vocations ought to be more clear when we consider our future physical existence in a physical world. There we’ll have no issues with thinking of spiritual things versus “earthly” things because “now the dwelling of God is with man” (Rev. 21:3). There we’ll not just have bad guys to fight, but God’s perfect peace, at rest and at Home forever. Implications from that truth, not just the truth itself, are things that “young restless Reformeds” ought to consider — and even daydream about! — more often.

Next: Among young-restless-Reformed types, radical church work is in, glorifying-God-just-as-much- in-work-and-motherhood-and-business not so much. Why?

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.

(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?)

(Continued from part 1.)

Ministry myopia?

I don’t believe any Radical oversights are intentional. Instead, I wonder if any ministry myopia has accidentally come into play. That mindset happens quite often; I frequently fight it myself.

Here is what I mean. What if I wrote my own book about how (currently this is a favorite topic for me) many Christians have not applied a Biblical worldview to their normal day-to-day jobs? My theme: too many believers have this notion that some jobs are “sacred,” such as church work, and other jobs are “secular,” not worth as much commitment, and not as spiritual.

So in this hypothetical book, I strive very hard to be Biblical. While questioning the state of Christians’ thinking about work, I disclaim many times about how I don’t want to be legalistic. Going through passages such as Proverbs, Colossians 3, and 1 Thessalonians 4:11, I’m very careful to explain that God knows we can’t always do our absolute best at our jobs, doing everything as if for God and not for men. I also make it clear: some Christians truly are called to do overtly “spiritual” jobs, like Going into The Ministry, and all believers should support them.

But what if in this book, almost all the verses and anecdotes I cited were about Christians in secular jobs? What if, right up until the last, I only emphasized scenarios about people who were blessed by forsaking sacred/secular mindsets, and now living for God in their normal jobs?

Very often I felt that was what Platt has done, but only in reverse. Again I found nothing un-Biblical in his book. But he left unsaid too much that was Biblical.

Sure, it’s very hard to include every nuance, every disclaimer, every related truth, in any book or sermon about a particular subject. Platt did well including many related truths with his points to live radically for Jesus in all areas. I don’t question his commitment, his heart, or his effort. However, I do wonder whether any encouragements to be radical and dismiss American-dream  false teachings should also include truths from four essential and related Biblical doctrines.

(Tomorrow: Platt seems to overlook the truth that “radical” Christianity takes different forms.)

The book was a light read; and a tough read. It was short, yet seemed to take longer. I agreed with almost all of it, yet often grew frustrated. Its author reinforced truth, yet proved very challenging — and often not for the reasons one might assume.

After hearing about Radical by David Platt for so long, I was finally able to read it myself.

And I meant every word of the seeming paradoxical reactions I described above.

First, what did Platt get right? Much in every way! Radical may not be the first to call Christians to abandon materialistic assumptions (the “American dream,” as Platt references it), but it’s one of the few I’ve read that starts off grounding that call not in moralistic motives, but the Gospel.

Megachurch methods, program-driven pragmatism, topical sermons about how to Live Better, and pray-this-prayer-and-be-safe ideas are popular, but weaken the Gospel, Platt often repeats.

If we have been saved by this amazing God from our just fate under His wrath, Platt asks, why are we not responding out of gratitude to Him? Why do many Christians take God’s blessings as a means to their own end, substituting comfort for God’s call on all believers to take His Gospel into the world to others? And why, Platt asks, do many Christians who claim not to believe all people will be saved (universalism), in practice act as if it’s not necessary to preach the Gospel?

Platt bases his calls to action in solid Scriptural ground: Christian hedonism, not just (as others might say) We Must Build a Better World, or It’s the Right Thing. Those who give all they have to Jesus aren’t just doing their duty. They do so for the sake of Him as their reward:

You know that in the end you are not really giving away anything at all. Instead you are gaining. […] So with joy—with joy!—you sell it all, you abandon it all. Why? Because you have found something worth losing everything else for. [… Jesus] is something—someone—worth losing everything for. And if we walk away from the Jesus of the gospel, we walk away from eternal riches. (page 18)

That’s what I most appreciated about Radical: Platt’s Gospel basis. In many ways, yes, the rest was challenging to my own sin-shrapnel of practical universalism, or lack of care for the poor and those who haven’t heard the Gospel. Yet it was challenging in many other ways — not for anything Platt said, but for some truths and Biblical balance he could have also easily included.

(Tomorrow: might some who encourage “radical” Christianity forget “ministry myopia”?)