The serpent, of course, disguises himself as an angel of light. The bride, on the other hand, is still besmirched and muddied. Telling the true from the false is never easy. The former point reminds us not to be fooled by appearances. The latter reminds us that we will never find the perfect church. If you do, don’t join it because you’ll ruin it. Because neo-liberal churches are liberal, they are to be avoided. Because they are neo, they are not always easy to see. What follows then are a few diagnostic tests that ought to help you along the way.
1. If the church notes anywhere that it is part of the ECUSA, the PCUSA, the ELCA, the UCC, the UMC, the DOC, or any other mainline denomination, it’s not likely to be neo-liberal. It is instead paleo-liberal and you need to run for your life.
2. If the church trumps the plain teaching of specific texts in light of broad principles across the scope of the Bible, it is likely a neo-liberal church. Paul tells us, for instance, that wives are to submit to their own husbands, as unto the Lord. Neo-liberals trump this text with the general principle that we are to submit to one another, the broad principle of “servant leadership” and this little nugget, “I just can’t see Jesus insisting that a woman submit to Him…” This same principle is at work with respect to ordaining women in the church. Sure Paul tells us that women are not to exercise authority over a man, but we know the Holy Spirit calls people to this thing or that, and who are we to argue with the Holy Spirit?
3. If the church spends much time touting the wisdom of those outside the church, it is likely a neo-liberal church. To be sure blind squirrels do find nuts, and God gives grace to those outside the kingdom, but beware when the church is all abuzz with the wisdom of this advertising wizard or that psychology guru. If your pastor gets his reading list from Oprah, you are probably in a neo-liberal church.
4. If your church is so zealous to meet people where they are that they end up leaving them where they found them, you are likely at a neo-liberal church. This one is particularly sticky. Take, for instance, those who practice the perversion of sodomy. A sound church will of course believe, and act on the belief that the gospel is bigger than this or any other sin, that those who repent and turn will find their sins forgiven, and their lives empowered for obedience. On the other hand, a sound church will never embrace those who practice gross and heinous sin without repentance. If discipline is not practiced, if, any time discipline is mentioned leadership chimes in that they’re all about grace, not law, you are likely in a neo-liberal church.
5. If your church is ecumenical beyond the confines of the gospel, it is likely you are in a neo-liberal church. We all ought, of course, love our brothers and sisters in Christ even when we disagree on important, though non-essential issues. No one is suggesting that a warm attitude toward the Baptists down the street is a danger sign. A warm attitude toward the liberals down the street is a problem. A warm attitude toward Rome is a problem. A warm attitude toward peace-loving Muslims is a serious problem. What often drives this kind of ecumenical spirit is embracing “inclusivism” a clear doctrinal heresy that is becoming ever more common in churches that on the surface look evangelical. Here the view is that the grace of God is spread abroad to other faith traditions. This is often in turn driven by a cozy relationship with post-modernism wherein we confuse biblical humility with betraying Jesus. That is, when our narrative doesn’t allow us to affirm “Thus saith the Lord” or “There is no other name under heaven by which a man must be saved” because this makes us look like we have “cornered the market on truth” then we are in a neo-liberal church.
6. If your church is willing to make affirmations, but is unwilling to make denials, it is not really making affirmations and is likely a neo-liberal church. It is one thing to say, “Jesus saves.” It is another altogether to say, “Only Jesus saves.” It is one thing to affirm that we will enter into heaven when we die because we trust in the work of Christ. It is another thing to say that those who do not so trust will suffer the wrath of the Father into eternity. Here the sheer ugliness of hell doesn’t inflame our evangelism. It eviscerates it, because we would rather believe it doesn’t exist. If your church leaves open this question, open the door and walk away.
7. Last but not least, if your church leadership is often speaking about what they want to believe, rather than what they do believe, you might be in a neo-liberal church. This works in two directions. First, it may be a sound biblical doctrine that they “want” to believe because there it is in plain sight in the Bible. But something, namely worldliness, makes them hesitate. Second, they may mean that their convictions are formed not by what the Bible says but what makes them feel good. “I like to believe that hell is empty” is nice talk for “I don’t believe the Bible and what it teaches about hell.” “I like to believe that God gives everyone a chance, and judges us by the sincerity of our hearts” is nice talk for, “I don’t believe the Bible and what it teaches about the need for regeneration, faith and repentance.”
Remember, these folks will not hiss at you. They will tell you they are sorry to see you go. In reality, you are an aggravation to them, and they are a danger to you. When we agree that the Bible gives us our answers, we can overcome any disagreement. When one of us believes that the Bible is true, and must be believed no matter what the world says, and the other believes we need to look reasonable and accommodate ourselves to the world, we have unequal yoking. Get out, and get into a faithful church.
Suppose your love of dancing is known throughout your community. Suppose that at tonight’s dance you’ve not only waltzed and tangoed through the first five dances, but did so with a variety of partners and always with a genuine smile on your face. Comes now a young gentleman to ask if he might have the next dance with you. He follows every detail of the prescribed social niceties of the ask. His reputation is not that of a rake or a scoundrel. You say, “No, thank you.”
The young man has at least three choices before him. He can walk away politely. Or, he can “politely” pursue the issue, asking, “Are you injured? Perhaps you are tired and I might ask again in a while?” or he can have a meltdown like your three year old nephew who missed his nap and is denied cotton candy at the county fair. The third option we all reject. The first option we all recognize as a legitimate option. It’s the second option that is unclear. We can clear it up rather easily however, with one question- is the young man owed an explanation? No, of course not. That doesn’t mean I necessarily fault the man for asking. But if his probing questions are met with a polite albeit cards-to-the-chest response of “no” he is left with only the first and third choices. If he takes his “no’s” politely and politely walks away, no trouble. If, however, your answers push him toward a sputtering fit of frustration, well, he thinks he is owed something he is not.
Chances are this chain of events has not happened to you, from either side of the equation. Chances are they never will. But this exercise in imagination should remind us to, even with friends, guard our boundaries, and not cross theirs. We live in the information age, and google never says, “None of your business.” We are inclined therefore to think everything is our business. Too often we even think we are google, and owe an answer to anyone who asks. Which is just how the devil wants it.
When Cyrus sent Nehemiah to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem, Nehemiah went on his way to do just that. When Sanballat saw what was going on he was none too pleased. Did he send a message to Cyrus, “Dear Majesty, What gives?”? No, he went after Nehemiah. He sputtered and spewed. He threatened and falsely accused. He demanded that Nehemiah come and explain himself. Nehemiah just kept building. He had been given a job to do. He was faithful to his own vision and to the calling of his king. And he would not stop the work to explain to those who objected of its legitimacy. He just kept at it.
Our enemies, and even our friends can all too easily become the sand in our gears. Worse, we can become the sand in theirs. Perhaps we would all do well to put this as frontlets before our eyes, “Who are you to judge another man’s servant? To his own master he stands or falls. Indeed he will be made to stand, for God is able to make him stand” (Romans 14:4). To put it another way, “Dance with the One who brung you.”
It is not at all unusual for us to defend our own peculiar perspective by painting our opponents in the worst possible light. There is genuine disagreement over whether political issues have any place in preaching. Those who stand opposed, however, lob their arguments against those who wrap their sermons in the American flag, who create six part sermon series on why poll taxes are more biblical than property taxes. Those who are more eager for sermons dealing with political issues, on the other hand, argue against Gnostic preaching that seems to suggest that anything outside of prayer, preaching and the sacraments is worldly, off limits. Very few are that extreme, in either direction.
The answer to the question- what should pastors preach, is simple enough. They should preach the Bible. The Bible, according to the Bible, equips us for every good work. There is nothing of importance, and surely all would agree that liberty is important, that the Bible does not speak to. Where it speaks so so ought the preacher to speak. We don’t come to the Bible, or any of its texts, hoping it will support our own message. Rather we come hoping we will communicate its message.
The more difficult question is one of priorities. The question is not if we should preach against the grasping state, but how often ought we to do so? And that, I would argue, is answered not by knowing the Bible, but by knowing one’s congregation. Too often we tickle the ears of the flock not by speaking well of them, but by thundering against the sins of their enemies. A steady diet of “We are the oppressed minority who are being overrun by the state that hates us” may increase our blood pressure, but isn’t likely to increase our holiness.
Preaching should both call us to repent of our sins and look to God’s promises in Christ. That may mean calling a congregation to repentance for treating the state as an idol, looking to it to give us this day our daily bread. It may mean calling a congregation to repent of its indifference to the enslavement of their neighbors by the state. But it is likely also to mean calling a congregation to repent of worshipping mammon, or bowing before the god of personal peace and affluence. It might also mean calling a congregation to stop acting like Chicken Little, and implicitly denying that God raises rulers and brings them down for the sake of the sanctification of His bride. It might mean calling the congregation to repent of its pride, if we are given to thinking, “I thank you Lord that I am not like other men. I read Breitbart and have anti-government bumper stickers on my car.”
Or, as we consider the size and scope and tyranny of the state that ruled during the time of the New Testament church, we might preach like this- Do not be surprised when the world hates you. It hated Jesus, and we servants are not greater than the Master. They may persecute us. They may take our property. They may silence us. They may put us to death. But, we are princes in the kingdom of God, seated with Christ in the heavenly places. We have been set free of the greater Monster, our own sin. And we are to be of good cheer, for He has already overcome the world.
That will preach.
The only thing worse than falling into a spiritual valley is the conviction that one must always be on a spiritual mountaintop. Though the Bible is the very history of the ups and downs of God’s people, God’s people go on thinking themselves immune, and that something is terribly wrong if their passion and joy today is not at the same fever pitch it was on the day they came to faith.
There is, of course, a ditch on the other side of the road. We can grow complacent, our ardor having all the vitality of lukewarm water. But cooler than it once was can be a long way from lukewarm. We ought to be taking our spiritual temperature. We ought to pray for passion, joy and gratitude. What we have to watch out for is when the devil comes calling like some diabolical pusher offering us his spiritual uppers.
When we are dissatisfied, when we are looking for more, the devil is more than happy to offer us what we think we need, and keep us from what we truly need. The history of the church is littered with sundry strategies to cure the spiritual blah’s. After Constantine turned down the heat and Christianity became acceptable, it got flabby. So monasteries were invented. You leave the world behind, enter into your vows, and become a super-saint. Not long after universities popped up, with much the same goal. Eventually contemplative prayer forms and then revivals, camp meetings stoked sundry fires, leading us to the annual tacky-fad-of-the-day in the broad evangelical world.
Pietism, Methodism, quietism, whatever-ism, all of these seemed to offer to the “plateau-ed” Christian a means to get to the next level, to relight the fires, to receive a second blessing, to stand out from the crowd, to draw nearer to the living God. The motive has much to commend it, the means not so much. What all these have in common is that the Bible says not a word about them. They are, every one of them, man made, human inventions to lift us up to God. Which is why they simply do not work. The Bible offers a gospel-infused answer to our problem. We do not labor to draw closer to Him, to stoke the fires of our passion. Instead He draws near to us. He lifts us up. And He does these things through His appointed means.
If we would be closer to God, we must give heed to His Word. We must attend to the preaching of the Word. If we would be closer to God, we must sit at His table, and feast in His presence. If we would be closer to God, we must grow closer to those whom He indwells. If we would be closer to God we must cease trying to be a special kind of Christian, and start crying out “Lord, be merciful to me a sinner.”
There are no special Christians, only a special Christ. We have no need to ask Him to give us more. We need only ask Him to help us see all that He has already given.
Thesis 44 We must practice a judgment of charity toward others.
“Judge not,” Jesus preached in His Sermon on the Mount, “lest you be judged” (Matthew 7:1). There are, typically, two reactions to this potent warning. Those outside the kingdom of God, despite refusing to bow the knee to Jesus, here cheer Him on. This is, without question, the favorite text in all the Bible amongst those who don’t heed the Bible. These folks find here a blanket condemnation of all judging in all circumstances.
Those inside the church, however, have a slightly more sophisticated understanding of the text. They, perhaps after having this verse used as a club by unbelievers against them, have enough smarts to know we’re being judged, and that rather harshly, by those fussing at us for judging them. We point out the hypocrisy of our unbelieving friends, and move on.
In both cases, I’m afraid, we miss the point. Jesus, contra those outside the church, is not telling us that we ought never to make any judgments. Jesus, contra those inside the church, is in fact saying something about judging. Refuting the unbeliever’s take on the passage may tell us what the text doesn’t mean, but it doesn’t tell us what it does mean. What is means, simply put, is that we can expect to be judged with the same level of care with which we make judgments. If, for instance, we rush to judgment, we can expect others to rush to judgment against us. If we mistake our subjective guesses of the motives of others as gospel truth, we can rest assured that others will confuse their guesses on our motives as gospel truth. Jesus is here calling us to judge, with both care, and with grace.
We judge with grace by not assuming the worst about others. We take our well developed skills at self-rationalization, and use them for good, for explaining in a gracious way the behavior of our neighbor. That is, when we snap at a friend, it’s because we’ve had a bad day. When friends snap at us, it is because they are horribly impious people who are lucky to have us for friends. What we ought to think instead is that we snap at our friends because we are the chief of sinners. Our friends snap at us because our sins would test the patient of a saint, because we are so aggravating.
The practice, of course, puts us in grave danger of being abused. Which is a good thing. When we remember that we are already unchangeably the children of God, when we remember that we are called to die to self, we are in a position to take chances like this. Our snapping neighbor may in fact be a big, fat, jerk, and we are making, in our hearts, excuses for his boorish behavior. The end result is still coals heaped upon our neighbors head (see Romans 12:20). This practice allows us, encourages us to rest in God’s strong right arm, to enter into battle confident that He has numbered our days, and is our strong tower. Not only that, it encourages others to practice a judgment of charity toward us, something we are sure to need before long.
