The Gospel in the West – Part 2

Power Evangelism

When I graduated from seminary (Trinity Evangelical Divinity School) in 1992 a debate was quietly afoot in the hallway between Wayne Grudem and D. A. Carson.  On the one hand, Grudem was advocating for what was known at the time as “power evangelism.”  He argued for the real value of signs and wonders in the presentation of the gospel for. When reading the accounts of the early church there are regular records of displays of God’s power (healings, exorcisms and other miraculous signs and wonders).  Should these not be normative today, too?  Across the hall D.A. Carson was objecting and would soon publish a book as editor countering the power evangelism perspective.  (Funny how many of my former profs have “polarized” over various issues in the last 20 years … but that’s another post.)  Grudem was not impressed with what he felt was a poor portrayal of his arguments and so put together a response that was never published as glamorously as was Carson’s work.

I’m not sure what became of that debate as, frankly, I was more taken aback by the rhetoric going on between two godly professors than by the substance of the issue at the time, but looking back I believe the issue was really about gospel proclamation.  In short: the issue really isn’t about the validity or necessity of signs and wonders, per se.   

The point is that Grudem was really wrestling with what provides context and substantiation for the preaching of the gospel.  Paul speaks, for instance, in 1 Corinthians 2 about not coming with carefully crafted oratory but in the demonstrated power of the Spirit.  In Galatians 3 he chides the church to remember the power of the Spirit demonstrated among them.  In 1 Thessalonians 1 Paul points to something beyond his words that helped substantiate his message.  And throughout Acts there is far more than simply words spoken—there are consistent demonstrations of the presence and power of God.

The Pure Gospel

Today, as when this debate about power evangelism was all the rage, a similar argument is now centering around holistic understandings of the gospel versus a straightforward proclamation of forgiveness of sins through Jesus Christ.  Take, for instance, a book recently given to me by a friend: What is the Mission of the Church? by Kevin Deyong and Greg Gilbert.  In a fashion very similar to Carson’s response to power evangelism, the authors write intending to persuade the reader into compartmentalizing the mission of gospel proclamation (i.e. preaching the gospel) from works of mercy and social justice.  The style leaves you almost feeling shamed for believing anything different from the authors.

I see a connection between the aspirations of those who believe in “power evangelism” and those who advocate for social justice and acts of mercy being necessary components of the gospel witness.  The issue is that words, without context, are simply that: words.  We may provide a history of Jesus in the proclamation of the gospel (though I contend it is normally a de-historized Jesus that is presented) but in essence what is presented is information that people need to know and believe.  Sometimes I wonder if we are wandering down the path of Gnosticism and mystery religions with such platonic segmentation of the gospel.

Beyond Compartmentalizing the Gospel 

Could it be that the gospel proclamation is necessarily paired with being and doing?  I love the way Darrell Guder explains it in his work, The Continuing Conversion of the Church: gospel witness requires saying, doing and being.  I compare it to a three-leg stool.  If you try to sit on it and one leg is missing you will fall over.  So, too, with our gospel witness!  And what I believe we are wrestling with in the west is that accompanying praxis that gives substance and context to the words we speak.

In the 90s the idea of power evangelism was believed by some to fill the void.  Today the idea of the holistic gospel approach is that works of mercy and compassion reflect the character of God and provide the necessary context for preaching.  The real question, then, is: what is it about the church and how we function in this world that demonstrates the presence and power of God—a presence and power that substantiates the message we proclaim?

For me, the place we need to start is fundamental: it is in our basic ecclesiology that has allowed the church to become so syncretised with commercialism and business theory that it virtually becomes a commodity on the shelf of religious goods and services.  I wonder if people looking on truly see much that is compelling in the church.  Do they see a community defined by its allegiance to Christ and to his mission or do they see a people defined by something else (age, relational status, economic condition, culture, language, some unique affinity)?  My mother reminded me of Bonhoeffer the other day.  And I recall him writing in his work, Life Together, that something beyond our natural affinity must be the defining raison d’être for the church and, with regard to what I am describing here, a compelling witness to the world of the presence and power of God.  Social justice can, indeed, be part of that (as can supernatural acts of God, though I doubt very much whether he has in mind gold fillings and other such “miracles” that are celebrated in the west).  Even more fundamentally, what about Ephesians 2:11-3:12 and Paul’s discussion of the profound community that arises from the cross? 

Could it be that when we, as a church, are experiencing God’s converting and transforming power and allowing that to infiltrate the world in which we live, that the necessary context for the proclamation is given?

The Gospel in the West

Blogging is complex business! I’ve written and re-written this post more times than I can count, trying to come up with a way to express what has been troubling me for some time. So I think perhaps my answer is to give up trying to find a “perfect” way to put out there what I am trying to say and simply state it and see where it may lead.

First, I should identify the two books have led to this post. One, a return to the 1989 classic by Leslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society, spurred my initial thoughts that were on a piece of paper. (I am so old school but would welcome an i-pad some day!) The other, a very recent work given to me by a friend, What Is the Mission of the Church? by Kevin DeYoung and Greg Gilbert, provided a point of entry into the current debate on issues of the gospel.

Newbigin got me thinking by contending that making one’s eternal destiny the starting point for gospel articulation is short sighted. Among his arguments was the problem of centering the gospel on “the individual and his or her need to be assured of ultimate happiness, and not with God and his glory” (179). Much of what I ask below arises from reflecting upon this point.

DeYoung and Gilbert helped through their distinction between what they call the “wide angle lens” and “zoom lens” of the gospel. The former points to the cosmic sense of the gospel found throughout the New Testament. The latter points to the forgiveness found in the cross (a point they contend is the only way in which the writers of Scripture “zoom in” on the gospel). This has served as a foil for my thoughts.

At its core I suggest the gospel is actually a story—THE story—of what God has done in this world in and through Jesus Christ, “the descendent of David according to the flesh and who was declared to be the Son of God with power according to the Holy Spirit by the resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 1:3-4). Even when Paul described the Gospel in terms of Christ dying for our sins he always did so within the context of the story of God revealed in the Scriptures, tying this event to the historical work of God and the historical reality of Jesus life, death and resurrection (1 Corinthians 15:1-4). The gospel is the story of how God reconciled all things to himself through the cross (Colossians 1:20). In what has become popular parlance, the gospel is the climax of the misseo dei, the fulcrum upon which everything rests and everything turns. The gospel expands from the cross, and it never excludes the cross.

Bringing this back to Newbigin, while we need to make this gospel understandable for the people to whom we proclaim it, we must be ever vigilant that we do not become guilty of syncretism, merging western philosophy and western cultural proclivities into the essence of the gospel. Toward that end I have a few distinctions I suggest are worth pondering when we focus on “zoomed-in” gospel—distinctions that I hope will help us avoid the pitfalls of a truncated gospel that leads to so much emphasis on eliciting a response that we miss the call of the Great Commission: to make disciples.

1. The Gospel is not primarily about establishing a personal relationship with Jesus Christ

THOUGH...

When you respond to the Gospel the Holy Spirit works in you to encounter the living God and experience him personally. Could it be that the use of catch-phrases like “personal saviour” and “inviting Jesus into my heart” leads us to a human-centred gospel? Beware turning the blessing of the gospel into the essence of the gospel!

2. The Gospel is not primarily about you being forgiven for your sins

THOUGH...

Responding to the gospel necessarily requires facing the cross, seeing one’s sinfulness and receiving forgiveness. Contrary to DeYoung and Gilbert, I suggest that forgiveness of sins is not only the entry point to receiving the blessings of the gospel; it is also the entry point of participating in the gospel and an ongoing experience of the gospel as we seek to follow God and live out the full implications of the gospel. Forgiveness is not the ending point, as if one could simply pray a prayer for forgiveness and move on without any call being heard and obeyed.

3. The Gospel is not primarily about fixing your life

THOUGH...

You will experience inner healing and equilibrium as you submit your life to God as he is revealed in the Gospel. It is even possible some may also experience physical healing. I contend, however, that such experiences function as a sign of God’s ultimate purpose for creation and, just as with the healings of Jesus in the New Testament, point beyond the individual to the God who is restoring all things in and through Christ. We in the west would do well to rediscover a theology of suffering and the power of embracing our brokenness to be what Henri Nouwen called “The Wounded Healer.”

Finally,

4. The Gospel is not an abstract set of truths

THOUGH...

You will unlearn much and discover much as you engage the gospel and how it manifests in and speaks to your culture and context. It is little wonder that one of the hallmarks of Christianity through the centuries is a reflection on all of life in light of the gospel. But to boil the gospel down to a set of propositional truths is to run the risk of creating a modern version Gnosticism where knowledge is divorced from praxis and can ultimately be isolated from the whole of life. If it is anything, the gospel is a radical call to a whole new approach to life under and in conscious awareness of God and his work in and through Christ.

The Gospel is the story of the true ruler of all who, though Jesus Christ, is bringing all his purposes for humanity and creativity into being. He has done this (and is completing his work) in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The gospel is a call to embrace a new meaning for life, a new set of values, and in many ways, embracing and refining those aspects of your life that reflected God’s purposes even before you encountered the Gospel. In many ways, then, the gospel calls us in the west to move beyond our self-focus to center our lives on Christ and the purposes of God in this world.