Something of a 'blog war' over the 'culture wars' has unfolded recently, beginning when Rachel Held Evans presumed to speak on behalf of millennials by declaring, 'My generation is tired of the culture wars.' This post is not going to be a response to that post specifically, as guys like Jamie Smith and Brian Mattson have already done a fine job addressing the problems her post is laced with.
All this, however, does raise the important question of what faithfulness in the context of our culture looks like. What should we expect as the community of believers when we live under the rule of our King? Last week, I was sitting with four university students as we finished working through Albert Wolters' book, Creation Regained, and we spent some time chewing over this bit in the postcript, which he co-authored with Mike Goheen (and which loudly echoes the renowned missiologist, Lesslie Newbigin):
Mission entails suffering; faithfulness to the gospel of the kingdom will mean a missionary encounter with the idolatrous powers of our own culture. Loyal allegiance to our kingdom mission will mean a clash of comprehensive stories. The gospel makes an absolute claim on the whole of our lives. The story that shapes our Western culture is likewise a comprehensive story which makes totalitarian claims. There is an incompatability between the gospel and the story of our culture. Every culturally embodied grand narrative will seek to become not only the dominant, but the exclusive story. If we as the church want to be faithful to the equally comprehensive biblical story we will find ourselves faced with a choice: either accommodate the Bible's story to that of our culture, and live as a tolerated minority community, or remain faithful and experience some degree of conflict and suffering.
Ours is a mission under the cross. The good news may call forth opposition, conflict, and rejection (John 15:18-25).
Though it is hard to get accurate statistics on such things, some estimate that about 170,000 Christians die each year for their faith. All of us would agree, I'm sure, that this is a group of people that really gets what Jesus is saying in John 15. The disaffected millennials – indeed, all of us – should stop and think about this for a moment when we're tempted to try and find ways around bits of Scripture we find uncomfortable or that require us to be in stark opposition with the culture around us. Hundreds of thousands of Christians are willing to die (and millions more willing to endure persecution) instead of capitulating to a culture that demands they live unfaithfully. And all the while we try to fit Jesus into a mould that will make him easier for us to get on side with.
I'll be the first to agree that the 'culture war' mentality is problematic and unhelpful (I think James Davison Hunter makes an excellent critique of that paradigm in his book,To Change the World), but deciding that we should be the ones to set the terms for our faith is not the answer. This is simply idolatry, replacing the rule of Christ with our own authority.
Newbigin's idea that we need to understand ourselves as missionaries in a culture whose story is entirely antithetical to the story of Scripture is so important to remember at this point. We bear witness to the rule of a King who makes a total claim on all of life, and at every point the gospel challenges a culture which rejects that rule. And so we should expect conflict.
Trying to live faithfully under the lordship of Jesus Christ isn't about making Christianity palatable to the culture around us. As it is, sometimes the total allegiance that Jesus demands will make it feel like we're sititng all alone in a crowded room. Sometimes it is even going to hurt. But for Christians, it is the only option.
With this being our first Christmas in Britain, we had the opportunity to take part in the Christmas tradition of gathering around the television at 3pm to watch the Queen's Christmas address. What everyone is talking about after this year's address – and what the media is avoiding talking about – is the last part of her speech, where she spoke of the forgiveness of sins that comes through Jesus Christ and her prayer that all would make room in their heart for him.
The various reactions triggered by this are interesting. As I mentioned above, I saw several news reports this morning reviewing the speech, none of which mentioned the last part. But on Twitter and Facebook, I've seen many Christians overflowing with excitement that their Queen would point so clearly to Christ as the hope of the world. While the message itself excites them, of course, the excitement is probably more a result of such a prominent public figure so openly talking about Jesus.
What makes the Queen's speech interesting as well is how it contrasts with a recent speech by Prime Minister David Cameron on the place of Christianity in Britain – she insisting that salvation is found through faith in Jesus, he merely pointing to the role Christianity's values and morals play in shaping British society and his own rather minimal commitment to it.
When I lead the 8:00am service at our church, I sometimes get to pray these words from the Book of Common Prayer:
Almighty and everlasting God...we humbly beseech thee so to dispose and govern the heart of Elizabeth thy servant, our Queen and Governour, that, in all her thoughts, words, and works, she may ever seek thy honour and glory, and study to preserve thy people committed to her charge, in wealth, peace, and godliness.
Having heard her speech, I am glad to know a little more about the faith of the Queen we pray for each week. And we will keep offering these prayers for her, trusting that God will continue to guide and sustain her.
Of the things I have never understood, these are included – why church attendance rises so much at Christmas, and why so many recording artists produce Christmas albums during their career. The only conclusion I can draw is that they must not think about the words they are singing when they sing the traditional hymns of this season.
The church has many great hymns that proclaim the wonderful truths of the Christian faith, but I find that many of our Advent and Christmas hymns make those declarations in an especially poignant way. I was thinking about this yesterday evening during our carol service, looking at the many unfamiliar faces gathered in the church. Why were they there? And why did they so readily sing these songs, even with exuberance?
If people took a moment to think about the lyrics of the Advent and Christmas hymns, I wonder how they would react to something like the third verse of 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing':
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Sun of Righteousness! Light and life to all He brings, Ris'n with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die, Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.
Many of these songs are joyful expressions of the wonder of the incarnation. Other songs boldly present a challenge to those who have not confessed Christ as Lord, and demand a response. Consider this verse, from 'Joy to the World':
He rules the world with truth and grace, And makes the nations prove The glories of His righteousness, And wonders of His love.
Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, Born this happy morning, Jesus, to Thee be all glory giv'n!
In November of last year, Al Wolters wrote an excellent article for the online version of Comment magazine, making a similar point about the 'Hallelujah Chorus' in Handel'sMessiah. He notes that despite the overtly religious theme – that Jesus Christ is the Messiah and that his Kingdom rules over all the earth – people in our culture still stand up when the choir sings the majestic chorus. What makes this especially interesting is the juxtaposition of the confession of Christ as Lord, ruling over all the earth, with Psalm 2, which is sung prior to the chorus. Wolters observes,
The meaning is unmistakable. The nations at large conspire against the Lord and against his Anointed, and plan to cast off all restraints that he has imposed on them. But God will only laugh at their defiance, and he (now addressed in the second person) will crush their rebellion and smash them like a piece of pottery. Then the "Hallelujah," with its celebration of the universal triumph of God in Jesus Christ, is sung. And audiences across several continents get to their feet in symbolic endorsement.
What do we make of this? It may be surprising that people who don't consider themselves Christians continue to sing these songs (or even celebrate Christmas, for that matter), but old cultural mores die hard, and that these songs remain so widely known owes to the vestiges of a culture in which Christianity once had a more prominent place.
Still, how can so many people sing the words of these songs and not be taken aback by the startling claims they make? One reason, perhaps, is their familiarity. Repetition serves as an aid to remembering something and implanting it in our mind, but too much repetition can sometimes dull the effect of the thing to be remembered. We hear these songs played over and over again at this time of year, and it may just be that the oft-repeated choruses no longer hit us with the full force of their declarations. More, the power of the message of the church's Advent and Christmas hymns is diluted further when mixed in with the many trivial and meaningless seasonal songs that have been produced over the years, such as the patently ridiculous 'Here Comes Santa Claus.'
Unfortunately, many of those who sing these songs during this season will likely not be in a place where the songs are accompanied by a faithful proclamation of the gospel, underscoring and heralding the powerful truths the hymn-writers penned, challenging the listeners to surrender their lives to the newborn King they sing of. The sad reality is that many of the churches that see a swelling of attendance during the holidays are no longer known for their orthodoxy, and so the bold hymns of Christmas just become happy carols to sing by candlelight.
That being said, it really is quite significant that during this season, even in our day, people will repeatedly hear songs proclaiming that Jesus is Lord broadcast over the airwaves or in their neighbourhoods or in churches all across our towns and cities. Let us hope and pray that as they hear and sing these songs and find themselves confronted with the truth of the gospel, that they would be captivated by the wonder and the promise of the incarnation, and fall on their knees in worship before the Lord of heaven and earth.
Simon Smart, of the Sydney-based Centre for Public Christianity, sat down with Kevin Vanhoozer to talk a little bit about the importance of looking at culture through a theological lens, and the responsibility of the church in the world. Vanhoozer contributed to a book a few years ago called Everyday Theology, which forms the basis for their discussion, and looks at the calling and challenge of living as a faithful disciple of Christ in all parts of life. The two part, 15-minute discussion is below:
A word about the implicit theology held by many who opt for cremation rather than burial. Reasons of hygiene and overcrowding led reformers toward the end of the last century to propose this step, which, as not all Western Christians know, is still firmly opposed by the Eastern Orthodox (despite the shortage of land in Greece at least) as well as by Orthodox Jews and Muslims. But cremation tends, classically, to belong with a Hindu or Buddhist theology, and at a low-grade and popular level...that is the direction toward which our culture is rapidly moving. When people ask for their ashes to be scattered on a favourite hillside or in a well-loved river or along a shoreline, we can sympathize with the feeling (though not, perhaps, with denying the bereaved a specific spot to visit in their grief). But the underlying implication, of a desire simply to be merged back into the created world, without any affirmation of a future life of new embodiment, flies in the face of classic Christian theology.
I am not of course saying that cremation is heretical... I am merely noting that the huge swing toward it in the last century reflects at least in part some of the confusions, both in the church and in the world, [about death and resurrection].
Given our aversion to speaking about death – and that includes Christians – I have not ever heard or been involved in a serious conversation about the theological implications of what we do with the bodies of our dead. What do you think of Wright's assertions? Is this something Christians need to think about more carefully?
