On many occasions in this journey, I have wanted to turn in my Evangelical membership card and call it a day. There have been moments when I still wanted to believe in Jesus, but I didn’t want to belong to this crazy family anymore. Maybe you’ve been there too… but with all the sincerity that I can muster, I truly believe this dysfunctional and whacked-out family of ours can be healed and find recovery.
—author Mike Foster
I am currently here at the Evangelical Theological Society (ETS) annual conference in New Orleans, Louisiana. I love this gathering because it brings together several of my favorite things: evangelical theology (on the highest scholastic level); good friends (a lot of my old friends from seminary come here every year so it’s like a big reunion); and travel (the conference is held in a different city every year so it’s a great way to see the U.S.). I love getting together with like-minded people who sharpen one another’s minds, hearts, and lives. It’s like a big happy family—I am an evangelical and proud of it. However, as with every family, there is inevitably some dysfunctionality. There is always the crazy uncle or the weird cousin who you cannot disavow because they’re part of your family, but who always seem to bring an uncomfortability to family reunions.
I felt this sentiment yesterday morning when I heard the lecture of one of the top evangelical Christian scholars in America who shall remain nameless. He lectured on evangelicalism, a topic which fascinates me, especially since I have a book coming out next year on this very topic. As I listened to his talk, I agreed with just about everything he said: he was lucid, articulate, and compelling (at least on an academic level). He talked about how we are evangelicals, and at our core we have the evangel, the Gospel, as a major part of our identity. However, a disturbing thing happened in the middle of his talk: the official video cameraman came up fairly close to him—not obtrusively so, but close enough to be noticed—and this speaker immediately turned to the cameraman and said something to this effect, “Brother, would you please put that camera away! We are here talking about the Gospel, and it is far more important than media!!” It was a bit shocking how the speaker dressed down the cameraman in front of the whole crowd—especially since the cameraman was not some random guy but was actually hired to do this job—and a person sitting next to me (who I had just met) said, “You know, this speaker just lost a lot of credibility in my eyes.” I couldn’t agree more.
I just thought it was extremely ironic that in the midst of his talk about what the Gospel was, the speaker undermined his own position by implying the Gospel was only about truth and not about love. The ungracious way in which the speaker chastised the cameraman was only the confirmation of other stories I had heard about the speaker. This speaker is well-known for being right—on a truth level—but I have hardly ever heard any mention of his love, in fact he is often known as someone who bulldozes anyone who disagrees with his theology. His truth brings him much acclaim, but I wonder if that hasn’t gotten to his head. He seems to feel like he can treat other people uncharitably because the truth covers over a multitude of his sins. I also wondered whether the cameraman was a Christian. What if he was not? What kind of witness did the speaker just set for him? The speaker obviously could talk the talk, but didn’t seem to be walking the walk, at least not at this particular moment.
Unfortunately, we evangelicals sometimes have a similar tendency as the speaker. I love the fact that evangelicals love the truth. What a great witness toward a world of moral relativism and wishy-washy universalism. Truth is abundantly important. But let us not forget that, as Christians, we are called to love. I don’t know why people think that truth and love are mutually exclusive. They should work in partnership with each other, similar to faith and works. James 2:18-20 says, “But someone will say, ‘You have faith; I have deeds.’ Show me your faith without deeds and I will show you my faith by what I do. You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder. You foolish man, do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless?” Deeds flow out of our faith, and is evidence of our genuine faith. Likewise, love flows out of our truth, and is evidence of our genuine truth. If this speaker is not showing love, I wonder what kind of “truth” he possesses. It seems to be only intellectual but not rooted in his heart.
As I read the Gospels, a scary observation strikes me: the only people Jesus comes down hard on are the Pharisees, the people who possess truth but do it in completely the wrong attitude. That’s called self-righteousness. In terms of the “sinners,” the prostitutes, and the tax collectors, Jesus was gracious. He calls them to repent, he tells them to sin no more, but he loves them and dines with them and hangs out with them. With the Pharisees, the morally upright people with shriveled hearts, he doesn’t mince words—Jesus calls them “You brood of vipers” and “white-washed tombs.” Knowing the right thing but approaching it with the wrong attitude seems to be the kiss of death, according to Christ. Even the Apostle Paul made his point in 1 Cor. 13:1, “And now I will show you the most excellent way. If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”
I talked to a lot of people after the lecture, and many people agreed with me that the speaker was wrong in his attitude. It wasn’t just me—it seemed to be a fairly common consensus. I, for one, had a hard time concentrating on his lecture after the cameraman rebuke. For one, this was not a worship service, it was an academic lecture. I can understand more if the speaker felt like the cameraman was interrupting a sacred moment, but that was not the case. Secondly, the cameraman’s job was necessary—this lecture will probably go online or be sold on video for the benefit of many people who were not able to come to ETS. Now they will see the speaker’s rebuke on the video (unless it is edited out), and/or miss the second half of the lecture because the cameraman was forced to put his camera away. There is a bigger picture that the speaker was obviously missing.
It seems to me that as people get older, they either get crustier and grumpier, or more humble and more charitable. This speaker seems to fall in the former category; someone like Billy Graham seems to fall in the latter category. Here’s a blog that I read recently that outlines well Graham’s theological humility. I, for one, would rather look to Billy Graham as my example.
After this morning lecture, I went to an afternoon lecture by another speaker, and he called evangelicals to charity. The tone was completely the opposite of the morning lecture. He said, “There are far too many souls out there who are going to hell for us evangelicals to be fighting amongst ourselves. We need to work together and cooperate for the Gospel and for the Kingdom.” He quoted Eph. 4:29, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”
At least there is someone talking sense. After the morning lecture, my heart broke—because I know that there are many people in our evangelical family who are like this (this is also why I do not call out this speaker by name; he is not the problem, he is merely a symptom of the problem). And truth be told, I know I am sometimes like that, though I try not to be. I’m not that old, but I’ve certainly learned to be more gracious and charitable since my younger days, and I hope that the Lord keeps working on my heart to make me more humble. The more I know, the more I should realize how little I know and how much further I have to go. The more I know Jesus, the more I should realize how far from Jesus I actually am, and that should cause me to be more gracious to others. For in the same way that we treat others, that’s how the Lord will treat us. The afternoon speaker gave me hope.
Like Mike Foster in the quote at the beginning of the blog, I don’t want to leave evangelicalism. This is my family. I love evangelicals, and I am one. It is surely better than the alternative, e.g. people who don’t believe in Christ or in his exclusivity or in the absolute authority of Scripture. But I hope and pray that evangelicalism remains sane and healthy and a good witness to the world, and that “they will know we are Christians by our love.”