However, there also comes a time when we must take stock of the situation, especially if certain people begin pressing their influence toward an unhealthy imbalance. The majority must always be aware of whether or not they are presently in the majority – indeed, if it is still a good thing to identify with the majority at all.
Before I get started, let me say that most of the things I address in this blog can be applied to almost every sect of Christianity in some way. But it just so happens that today I'd like to talk specifically to my friends within the circles of reformed theology – a tradition with a long history of rigorous Bible scholarship and sincere dedication to Christ. Over the past year or so, I've had the pleasure of much spirited dialogue with friends and acquaintances who approach the Christian faith from a newly-revived, distinctly Reformed/Calvinistic perspective. The movement I have in mind was recently dubbed by Time Magazine as "The New Calvinism." But I'm not a big fan of labels because people are often much too complex for labels to be useful. Reluctantly, I will be using a few labels in this blog but only as a naming convention to loosely identify who I'm talking to, or about. For this reason, it's important that I clarify the terms a little further.
John Piper says that, to be a part of this new movement within the reformed community is actually synonymous with affirming the tenets of Calvinism. But lest you confuse my intended audience, just because you might identify with certain aspects of Calvinism, it doesn't necessarily mean that you are a New or "Neo-Calvinist". In fact, as you read this, you might find that you enjoy and affirm the teaching of the men I’ll mention, but wouldn't consider yourself to be a part of some extreme movement, or any movement at all for that matter. If you're not sure you've even met a member of this movement, you might recognize them as the growing group of evangelical Christians promoting Reformed/Calvinistic theology in a much stronger, more fervent, more prescriptive, more intentional way than has been done in recent years – perhaps even in centuries.
Through this new appreciation of reformed doctrine, teachers like John Piper and Wayne Grudem have spearheaded a great modern reformation to correct many of the ills that have infected the church. Though the classic works of Calvin, Luther and Edwards are certainly worthy of study on their own merits, this recent surge of Neo-Calvinism was born primarily out of a reaction against the rampant relativism of our secular culture and the emergent church's growing de-emphasis on the importance of orthodox Christian doctrine over the past decade.
Undoubtedly, more corrective measures are in order to bring the church full-circle (and in some cases, even stern rebuke), but my worry is that, once again, many well-meaning believers have jumped on the vicious pendulum of reactionary tactics instead of forming a measured, thoughtful response that adequately addresses the real issues. What began as a initiative to rehabilitate the rubbery backbone of the church has snowballed into a divisive mob mentality as the vision from its inspiring leaders has trickled down to some who sit in the pew.
My intent today is not to debate the theological viability of reformed doctrine or the strengths and weaknesses of Calvinism. My concern is, rather, the extent to which some Neo-Calvinists have started applying their methodology in extreme, unsophisticated, militant ways – all under the banner of reformed theology. My only goal today is to humbly offer five points – five cautionary suggestions to my reformed friends, to chew on and prayerfully consider. These thoughts should be taken in a loose, general sense, not pushed to extremes or to the absolute exclusion of other important virtues. These are merely observations I've made with the hope that they will serve as reminders to help us find an appropriate balance between grace and justice; unity and diversity; truth and mystery – all distinctive hallmarks that should characterize the lives and beliefs of those who hold fast to the ancient Christian faith.
I offer these humbly as exhortations, not as accusations:
1). The fine line between having heroes and being an idolater.A student at my seminary (who I'll leave anonymous) recently said, "I can't wait to be done with school so I can be the next Tim Keller. In fact, I only listen to Keller, Driscoll and Chandler." Now, on the surface, I guess there's nothing really wrong here. Even Paul says that we should imitate him, but of course, as he imitates Christ (1Cor 11:1). Had the opportunity presented itself to me, I would have asked this person, "Have you ever expressed this weird man-crush to Tim Keller, Mark Driscoll or Matt Chandler?" Because, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be comfortable with it.
If you're the type of person who's doing good to read one or two books a year, then you would do well to read anything put out by the authors above (or feel free to plug in your own favorite reformed author: Mahaney, MacArthur, Sproul, etc.) On the other hand, doesn't this somewhat narrow way of thinking seem to trivialize the extremely rich and diverse storehouse of Christian thought that has accumulated over the past two thousand years – particularly during the period before the Reformation was even a twinkle in Martin Luther's eye.
It's one thing to be a fan of a certain style or tradition, but it's another thing entirely to be a groupie – and there's nothing sadder than being a groupie. Why? Because groupies pursue the object of their idolatrous obsession to the complete exclusion of all variety. They can't relate to people with different tastes, experiences or insights because they live in their own little world – and they like it that way. Groupies build creepy little shrines with candles, autographed concert tickets and tour t-shirts. But shrines are built by other kinds of groupies out of bookshelves, filled with a narrow range of authors, and an even narrower range of perspectives on theology, philosophy and history. People like this love to post an endless supply of chummy photographs taken with their favorite reformed celebrities as they tour the country on the church conference circuit. Will you autograph my ESV?
I'm not saying that Christians outside of reformed circles don't have celebrity idols of their own, but idol worship amongst New Calvinists is particularly ironic given the iconoclasm that came out of the Reformation in the 16th century. In an effort to rid the Catholic church of idols, centuries-old sculptures were toppled, ancient frescoes were plastered over with stark white walls, and irreplaceable paintings were ripped down and burned during riots led by overzealous fanatics with an axe to grind. This was another sad case of overcorrection that should have been handled differently. Instead, the church added yet another black eye to its impressive collection: the Crusades, the Inquisition and now this, a move that would ultimately alienate artists from the church for centuries.
Even the Bible itself has entered this discussion with the new and wildly popular ESV Study Bible, recently referred to as the "Elect" Standard Version by one Neo-Calvinist leader. He was obviously joking, but it is the thread of truth contained in the joke that makes it funny. However, it's when certain followers within the movement don't realize it's a joke that it becomes cause for concern. The translation really is great, but what are we to say about the growing “club" mentality starting to develop among some ESV users who look down in pity upon those still using the lowly NIV? The student I quoted above went on to say in the same discussion that he likes "the Calvinist 'bent' to the ESV translation" better than other versions of the biblical text. Really? Should we be comfortable with the text having ANY "bent" to it? I was under the impression that Bible translators should strive for a reading that most closely reflects the meaning of the original languages? Though it is certainly marketed to and preferred in reformed circles, I'm not sure that the ESV actually has a Calvinistic bent to it at all. But regardless, the fact that people are choosing a Bible based on this perception should concern everyone – just as much as those who choose the Spirit-filled Study Bible for its "bent" toward Pentecostal/Charismatic theology.
Two years ago on Thanksgiving Day, my pastor and friend, Matt Chandler, had a massive seizure caused by a large tumor silently growing in the right frontal lobe of his brain. Surgery to remove the tumor was immediately necessary and the prognosis looked grim. The story made headlines and the outpouring of support for Matt and our church was immense. Amidst an insanely busy speaking schedule and the responsibilities at his own church in Minneapolis, John Piper offered to come speak to our nervous congregation, grieving in the wake of this tragic news. Despite the leadership's plea to the public that this particular Sunday be reserved for the regular congregation struggling with the difficult reality affecting our beloved pastor, the place was overflowing with visitors that morning who had traveled from all over Texas just to see the leading voice of Neo-Calvinism.
After delivering an inspiring message, Dr. Piper actually made himself available for prayer and counseling alongside the other ministry staff at the front of the sanctuary. But what followed this impressive gesture of humility and concern absolutely turned my stomach. The second he stepped down from the platform, scores of people made a B-line straight for John Piper. I wanted to believe that these people simply had extremely difficult questions that they felt only he could answer. But in the midst of this somber moment, as people started puling out their camera-phones to record evidence of their brush with Neo-Calvinism's frontman, I wanted to vomit.
Now, don't get me wrong, this was not John Piper's intent. He graciously indulged his obnoxious followers in a low key, dignified way so as not to make a scene that would disturb the people who were actually praying to his left and right. But you could tell he was disappointed and uncomfortable with the mad rush that ensued after his offer to help. I want to think that most of the Piper-groupies snapping pictures for their Facebook wall that day were clueless visitors – but does it matter? The fact that so many people couldn't discern that this was obviously not the time or place for such behavior was quite disheartening.
The church mirrors the negative aspects of pop-culture in so many ways already, and sadly, this is also true when it comes to our pathological fascination with those who have power, influence and fame. We should be different. All of these men, for all of the great things they have done, have shortcomings – and yes, even when it comes to their doctrine. It's what it means to be fallible, and I think they would agree that it's unhealthy to put them (or anyone else) on a pedestal like this.
2). Uncomfortable with our Comfort
Perhaps the one new trend within the New Calvinist movement that worries me the most is the relative ease with which some of my reformed friends seem to hop up on the Great White Throne without considering the enormous magnitude of the place they are sitting – that is, in a seat reserved only for the one, holy and righteous Judge of the universe.
Scripture certainly tells us that we can know a tree by its fruit, but I have grown increasingly uncomfortable with how comfortable people are with pronouncing judgments of "saved" or "not saved" on certain individuals – particularly other prominent pastor/teachers. I'm not referring to the universal inclusivism recently made popular by the Rob Bell debate. I'm referring to judgments being made about one's salvation based on secondary, non-essential issues that have been debated within the church for thousands of years. There are good reasons that the early church councils spoke clearly about things like the Trinity and the deity of Christ, but chose not to come down on one side or the other of the Calvinism/Arminianism debate.
Accusations of heresy, "bad theology", apostasy and heterodoxy are handed out like parking tickets simply because a particular view isn't Calvinistic. However, even in cases of bona fide heresy, shouldn't we be a little less eager to dole out eternal death sentences to people for doctrinal errors, especially given their total depravity? I'm not saying that you can deny the deity of Christ and still call yourself a legitimate Christian, but should lines be drawn so quickly and decisively based on differing views on eternal security or limited atonement? I understand having personal suspicions about these matters, but is it wise to proclaim it publicly in books and blogs? Are we qualified to make such a bold call about someone's eternity? Lines must be drawn, I understand that. My concern is that we do it so thoughtlessly as to minimize the gravity of what we're saying.
We should get nervous when people start to suggest that 5-point (or even 7-point) Calvinism is a necessary condition for orthodoxy, or even worse, salvation. Was the thief on the cross a Calvinist? Is it conceivable to think that John and Charles Wesley are burning in hell because of their Arminian theology? What about Catholic theologians like Thomas Aquinas who provided the very bedrock for much of modern day systematic theology, Christian philosophy and apologetics? Will C.S. Lewis be forced to spend eternity with Satan and Screwtape because he thought the Calvinism/Arminianism debate was a false dilemma? New Calvinists would do well to learn from the Protestant iconoclasm before their zeal turns into a witch hunt directed at people instead of just paintings.
3). Let's not equate the Gospel with Calvinism
During a theological debate a few years ago, a friend of mine once proclaimed, "Calvinism IS the gospel!" Whoa... really? I completely understand being enamored with a particular theology or philosophy, especially one as systematic and well-thought out as Calvinism, but do we really want to equate the gospel itself with something that is as hotly debated as Calvinism? Does Calvinism have something say about the gospel? Well, sure it does. But so does Arminianism; so does dispensationalism; so does covenant theology. I think my friend has since softened his original position on this, but this extreme sentiment is still out there, though primarily among the most zealous and misguided diehards on the fringe of Neo-Calvinism – which is why I'm not going to spend a lot of time discussing it.
This kind of exclusive claim to the gospel should cause us just as much concern as if my friend had said, "Being Baptist IS Christianity!" I remember growing up around people who thought of themselves first as Baptists, Catholics or Methodists before thinking of themselves as Christians. I also remember thinking the way they prioritized these distinctions was quite odd. To equate a manmade denomination with the Christian faith itself, well, that would be a bit presumptuous to say the least – perhaps, even blasphemous. I think the same can be said about a particular manmade theology.
Most New Calvinists would never take so strong a position, formally. However, practically speaking, I think things have gotten a little out of balance. What is needed is a reminder that, when Jesus said, "the harvest is plenty but the workers are few," (Matt.9:37) He didn't mean that the Kingdom of God has a shortage of people defending and promoting Calvinism. Deep systematic theological training is an absolute necessity in the life of every believer, but let us not confuse this with the gospel. Calvinism may be good, but it's not THE good news.
I would also like to add here that, yes, many things truly are black and white. But there seems to be a tendency among some Neo-Calvinists toward reductionistic thinking in which everything is oversimplified – certainly not theologically – but evangelistically, apologetically, conversationally. "The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart" (Heb.4:12) For this very reason we must handle the gospel skillfully, lest we end up cutting off our own limbs with a weapon designed to defeat the enemy.
Calvin and Luther disagreed when it came to certain non-essential theological issues. Mark Driscoll, Matt Chandler and John MacArthur don't agree on everything either. And guess what? Modern Neo-Calvinists don't agree with everything Calvin and Luther believed. It would do us well to remember this diversity of beliefs held amongst our heroes of the faith.
4). It's hard to be a good surgeon when you're wearing boxing gloves.
Without looking up from his chart, a doctor delivers his diagnosis to an unsuspecting patient who simply went in for a regular checkup, "Guess what? You've got a big fat brain tumor and you're going to die a slow painful death." The patient is shocked and can't comprehend the full weight of what the doctor just said, let alone the technical medical lingo he rattles off later as he tries to explain the reason why she's dying. Should the doctor candy-coat the truth? Should he lie and tell her that everything's going to be okay? Absolutely not! That would be unethical and downright cruel. But should he at least soften the blow with some concern in his voice? Should he show some compassion in the way that he delivers the bad news? Should he take into consideration the age, background and emotional state of his patient? I think the obvious answer is, yes! Can he also be firm? I think the best doctors have a combination of friendly bedside manner, sophisticated technical knowledge and a sober directness in their diagnoses – don't you?
Paul's presentation of the gospel was sophisticated, strategic and highly targeted toward specific audiences for the expressed purpose of making his presentation more persuasive (1Cor 9:19-23). This is not to be confused with sophistry or empty rhetoric used to emotionally hype up a crowd. No, Paul says he actually does it "for the sake of the gospel." The same goes for when he refuted heresies or addressed discipline issues within the church. He was firm, precise and unwavering, but he wasn't belligerent or combative. Paul said, "Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ… when each part is working properly, [it] makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph.4:15-16)
Most Neo-Calvinsits I've met know the gospel very well, but often it's the ham-fisted way they present the gospel that is lacking. Most of the prominent leaders within this movement are extremely gifted communicators who don't really struggle with this problem, but there are some who seem to think that, as long as you recite the cold hard facts, the gospel has been proclaimed well. But there is something to be said about the way we say things. Even though we can be confident that we have the truth, this does not give us a license to be smug or arrogant in our presentation of the truth. It is more often the stench of our evangelical swagger that turns people off, than the truth itself.
Sometimes I'm tempted to think that Calvinism itself makes people act this way, in that they genuinely believe the persuasiveness and skill with which the gospel is presented doesn't really matter since it's all up to God anyway. But then I see men like R.C. Sproul and Matt Chandler, both strong Calvinists, take such great care with how they speak the uncompromised truth in a way that's actually mindful of (even sensitive to) the worldview their audience is filtering everything through.
Is it reasonable to expect an atheist to trust Christ as Lord when all he hears is "Trust the Bible, because the Bible says so!" How can one possibly trust the Bible if he doesn't even believe that God exists? I'm not advocating slick presentations that can somehow argue someone into heaven, but I get really frustrated when I see people handle the beauty of the gospel in such a clumsy fashion.
I wanted to offer a sample of one of the most abrasive voices within the New Calvinist movement that, up until now, did nothing but curl my toes every time I heard the man speak – Todd Friel, host of Wretched Radio. However, while doing research for this blog, I came across an interview he did with Tim Challies, yet another prominent voice within the movement. Though I typically have issues with the approach that both men take much of the time, I must say that I was pleasantly surprised to hear that they may be softening their attitudes and rhetoric a bit toward believers who wouldn't consider themselves any brand of Calvinist. I can only pray that this trend in grace continues. As a way of offering an olive branch and as a testimony to the possibility of change, I would encourage you to listen to the following link (after you finish my blog, of course). It is, quite frankly, something I never thought I would post when I started my research:
http://www.challies.com/writings/podcast/ck29-a-discussion-with-todd-friel
5). Paradox of Unity
Is there anything harder to achieve or maintain than unity? But is there anything more glorious this side of heaven? If you think about it, unity presupposes diversity. We don't say that Mt. Everest is "unified" because it's one huge solid piece of rock. No, it's just there – standing by itself. But we do attribute unity to songs and paintings and nations and groups of people. Why? Because when different pieces come together in a harmonious way, unity is created. Identical sounds result in monotone speeches. The use of one color results in indiscernible abstract art. People with identical mindsets result in cults and groupthink.
Like I said above, there are obviously times when the truth must be defended and lies exposed. There are times when wolves must be identified and the wayward rebuked. But this must be held in tension with Scripture's clear priority on unity within the body of Christ. One of the last prayers that Jesus prayed was, "I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me" (John 17:20,21). Paul talks extensively to the dysfunctional Corinthian church about how badly diversity is needed in order to have unity. Paradoxical? Or two sides of the same coin?
