The Bible I Don’t Believe

frustration-798907.jpgI try not to blog, preach, converse, write or make decisions while angry. But, you can’t be perfect.

This morning I made it to my computer at ten minutes before I had to be at breakfast. I moderated some IM comments and then checked my email. There, alongside the Nigerian riches I’m regularly offered and various other items slipping past my spam measures, were two letters written by eloquent and pious brethren, both telling me I was an apostate- had abandoned the faith- for not using the word “inerrancy” in regard to the Bible.

I can write twenty versions of what I believe about the Bible that would gain me the ridicule of any atheist and the spite of any Episcopal bishop, but none of those descriptions of what I believe about the Bible and none of the confessional statements I can point to as my own will make one dent of difference to the two brothers who want me to know that after reading my blog they know I’m going to hell.Continue reading “The Bible I Don’t Believe”

Galatians 4:6 and The Trinity

Galatians 4:6 And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!”

A few thoughts about this verse, not to take issue with anyone, but to say I think there’s more theology in the Bible than we sometimes think.

I agree with most Christians that the fully developed doctrine of the Trinity needed to be defined by the church because the Bible is not written in the form of sophisticated and exact theological definition.

But I don’t agree that the verse above is particularly ambiguous or that it can be interpreted reasonably or correctly with non-Trinitarian assumptions.

For starters, the verse is part of the epistle to the Galatians and that letter exists in the larger context of a classically Jewish, Biblical and emerging Christian context.Continue reading “Galatians 4:6 and The Trinity”

What’s Wrong With Megachurch Evangelicalism: Exhibit A

I removed the Seven Day Sex Challenge Post.

For those fortunate enough to pay attention, we’ve just had a seminar on what’s going on in the lead dog evangelical megachurches in America.

Criticize the pastor for one lame-brained, attention grabbing stunt, and within 24 hours, threats of every kind are in the air.

Criticize one celebrity pastor for one manipulative ploy and the angry dogs are at the gates, threatening to sue over a picture you got off the first page of google images.Continue reading “What’s Wrong With Megachurch Evangelicalism: Exhibit A”

Test Driving Some Thoughts On Past Controversies

I can now officially say I’ve written my most controversial sentence. It’s various versions of “I am rethinking what I believe about God.”

I know. I know. Somehow this has been translated into “I’m no longer a Christian,” “I’m abandoning Christianity,” and “I’m ordering anchovies on that pizza.”

Why has this idea been so upsetting to some of my readers? I’ve tried a few explanatory thoughts out. If you are interested, you can test drive them as well. (If you have to translate this post into my conversion to Buddhism, I’d recommend moving to a blog with more pictures.)

1) Ministers are supposed to have all the answers.

If you are Southern Baptist minister, you had an ordination council. I had mine 8 years after I became a Christian, seven years after I declared my intention to be a pastor, two years after college graduation and one year into seminary.

I was asked a few things about a few things, but to tell you the truth, there wasn’t enough theological content in my ordination questioning to fill up a good 4 X 6 card. And that’s fairly typical.

I have no idea where anyone in Southern Baptist life anyone gets the idea that it would be a bad idea to rethink what you knew when you were 15 or 23. Nothing about being called into ministry stops you from being ignorant. If you don’t know that, you aren’t listening very closely.

Of course, in my case, it was life, not theology, that challenged me to start over and reacquaint myself with the God and Father of my Lord Jesus Christ. And I can’t apologize for Life. It seems to have a syllabus that I don’t have access to. If you are one of those people who can say “Life has nothing left to teach me,” then God help you. I don’t want to sit next to you during a thunderstorm.

Read Job for more details.

A minister is set aside to proclaim the Gospel, but no one promises to not have a personal spiritual journey along the way.

2) They are misunderstanding what I mean. (Accidentally or on purpose.)

And that’s pretty likely in some cases, I’m sure.

I never meant that I was abandoning the Christian faith and only the most hostile selective reading could come up with that.

I’m not abandoning the confessional framework that I affirmed as a Christian and an ordained minister. I’m not renouncing the faith. I’ve clearly said so in every post.

Michael Bauman taught me years ago that theology is the wind in the sails, but the creeds are the anchors. I may have pulled up anchor and let down the sails for a journey, but I never abandoned the anchors. I need them and always will.

Imagine that you are a parent. You’ve been confident you know how to raise your child. You do everything “they” told you to do. You followed the book, you followed the seminars, you followed the advice of the experts.

Then, one day, your child comes home and says “I’m a gay atheist who plans to spend his life as an urban terrorist.”

Is it possible that you might say, “I’m going to rethink everything I believe about parenting?” Of course.

If you said that, would you be saying “I am renouncing my role as a parent and will never claim that child is mine”? No, of course not.

Second example. You are a baseball coach. You have a system. You believe in your basics, your methods and your experience. You are certain that if your team follows your system, they will win.

Your team does everything you ask. To a “T.” Week after week; game after game.

You lose every game.

Is it possible you might say “I am going to rethink everything I believe about baseball”? Of course.

Would you be resigning as coach? Renouncing baseball? No.

3) “When you say that, you make the rest of us feel wrong and condemned.”

If that has been the case, I sincerely apologize. I probably was thoughtless on this score at times, and I regret it.

There are several ways to approach the process of rethinking a faith journey.

One IS to blame everyone for misleading you.

I do believe I was misled early on in my life about what God is like, but I was misled by good people who took what they were saying very seriously as truth. They weren’t messing with my head or playing games. They were following what they’d heard preached and taught. They were trying to get it all right.

But I was the one who came back again and again to beliefs that were increasingly distant from Jesus as I would meet him in the Gospels. When I defended my theology, my agenda and my version of religion using those beliefs, it was entirely MY fault.

I hold myself responsible for what I’ve persisted in believing and what I’ve taught others. Like Luther, I think the only way to have integrity is to say, from time to time, that people can be (will be) wrong and our consciences have to be captive to the Word of God. I’m #1 on the list of people who can be wrong. Like Luther, it may not be comfortable to go back to the Word and start over, but “reformed, always reforming,” should mean exactly that.

The reason we have hundreds of false teachers misrepresenting Jesus with trash from the church’s theological trash can is we didn’t realize you have to return to the sources regularly or you lose credibility.

What we all believe about God personally exists on several levels at once. Sometimes those levels co-exist peacefully, even in the face of information and experiences that indicate something is very wrong somewhere. But at other times, we realize we can no longer hold all those levels together and still really believe.

At that point, our faith has to “go into the shop,” so to speak, for a re-calibration. Some things have to change for that faith to be healthy and continue. The faith we had as children or teenagers or in a particular stage of life has to grow to fit new realities. I’ve taught that for years as healthy faith development. Apparently living it is a bit more controversial.

The absolute wrong response is to take that experience of growth as an excuse to blame others, even if there is some degree of blame to be assessed. This is MY faith journey. It’s who I am. The only thing that needs to change is how I think of and experience God. It’s not a blame game, but a growth process.

4) People aren’t comfortable with change and new beliefs in those who are supposed to be mature, dependable Christians. It frightens people to think those who are supposed to really know Christ are asking serious and fundamental questions.

I’ll refer back to the “Jonah 4″ post and the absolutely unavoidable certainty that the Bible presents all kinds of people at all sorts of places in life doing fundamental reassessments of God, with good fruit resulting.

But let me use some non-Biblical illustrations.

What if white ministers in the south had’t questioned the God they’d been told approved of slavery and segregation?

Would anyone suggest to Jeremiah Wright that his ideas about a Black Liberation God could stand some re-examination?

Would anyone suggest that health and wealth preachers like Joel Osteen could benefit from comparing their God to the God of Jesus, especially as he’s seen and worshiped among the poor?

Does anyone thing that the nationalistic, flag-waving God of many culture war Christians could stand to be compared to the God of Jesus?

What ideas about God do I have that allow me to spend more on coffee than I do on relieving hunger or digging wells?

Most of us would be happy if someone would rethink God and come out where we think God actually is. Well…..how can you deny that, in the face of obvious personal pain and crisis, some persons who were formally quite sure they had God pinned down in the box have decided to look at God again, and to go to school with Jesus as their teacher?

5) If we rethink God, that could mean we’d also have to rethink…..other stuff!

The fact is that beliefs and rhetoric about God are usually propping up other things that we believe or really want to be true.

We want to believe that following the principles, steps and theology of our leaders will ensure great marriages, great kids, great lives. (If they are, then good for you.)

We want to believe that we are really experiencing the presence of God in church. Many of you are and many of you are not. No one is saying it’s the same for everyone, but those who are experiencing God in their church have no reason at all to be judgmental or angry that someone else isn’t having the same journey. But those who aren’t….aren’t bad people ignoring Jesus. They are hungry and thirsty, but right now they aren’t satisfied.

We want to believe there’s an answer to give to suffering people that makes perfect sense of the worst situation. (Of course, Dobson wrote “When God Doesn’t Make Sense,” so perhaps some people don’t have that answer yet.)

We want to believe that if people would just listen to our pastor or our denomination or read this book or listen to that DVD…..they’d see the truth right there in front of them.

We’d like to believe that everyone who believes what we believe is right, that what we’re doing is God’s will and that everyone who disagrees with us is wrong.

It’s all very comforting. And for some people and their journey, it all works.

But not for everyone. Some of those who know it’s not working go to bed and say “If I would just try a little harder and be more sincere and prayerful, it would work. I just don’t believe enough.” That’s sad, because it may not be their fault at all.

And if you find this blog by this strange guy who hangs out his personal spiritual laundry on a clothesline right there where everyone can see it, and he — a married Baptist minister who tells other people what the Bible says and what God is like- HE says that he’s going back to Jesus and he’s going to rethink what it means to believe in the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ…then what? Is everything suddenly unsure? Is it a bad thing that he reported his journey and let others talk about theirs?

Sometimes in the journey, it feels very scary and alone. But God still has hold of us. He’s just bringing us along a different road. His covenant love hasn’t failed. We just have a further to go to see the light on the trail.

Could it be that people sometimes realize that they need to get up in the night, go get on their face and say:

“God….I’m not sure I really know what you’ve been saying to me. I’ve been talking a lot, but I haven’t been a very good listener. I’ve been good at repeating what I was supposed to say, but not very good at taking Jesus honestly and completely. So would you please help me to start over; to read the Bible and open my eyes to Jesus in a fresh, life-changing way.”

Yes, it is scary. But would it be better to just turn over and say “I already know what I need to know?” And go back to sleep?

Well folks, I’m awake. And I’m going to read my Bible, look and listen. Maybe God will meet me and answer that prayer.

Protection Racket Questions

INTRO: These are provocative questions meant to stir discussion. Please don’t over characterize me personally. I’m a facilitator of a discussion here. OK?

1. Would you tell a room full of atheists that your children are less likely to be involved in automobile accidents than theirs because you pray for them? If yes, on what basis? If no, why not?

2. Would you be willing to submit that claim or other claims about divine provision and protection to scientific verification by comparing two groups: one atheists, one praying Christians? In general, do you believe there is statistical evidence for a prayer answering deity?

3. Do you believe God gives us our daily bread because we pray the Lord’s Prayer petition? Do you believe he withholds daily bread from those who don’t pray it? What is your explanation to starving Christians in the third world who pray for daily bread but do not receive it in quite the same amount as Americans?

NOTE: I pray and I ask for prayer. I pray for the requests of others. But I do so because Jesus taught and modeled simple, childlike dependence on God that expresses itself in prayer to “Abba, Father.” Jesus is, as in all things, my sufficiency in prayer and my example in prayer.

A bad man is in the house

A Bad Man Is In The House
And one peace loving, non-confrontational Christian thinks we can’t ignore him.
by Eric Rigney

I don’t usually weigh in on political topics in this space. I prefer to leave such ruminations to the more politically savvy, such as the Monk himself. I am more of a philosophical (sometimes vague), universal issue type person, shying away from such specifically political topics as particular policy, political minutiae, the Washington scene, etc. I prefer instead to train my arguably dimwitted bulb on questions of personal philosophy and moral reasoning. Of course, I realize that most political issues have such philosophy and reasoning at their roots, but there are people out there who like to pick things apart on the strictly political level.

I am not one of those people. Everyone have fun debating budgetary hair-splitting or Capitol Hill atom-splitting, but count me out.

But this Iraq situation has got me feeling very specific. It is an issue that I think necessarily encompasses both questions of policy and philosophy. Maybe it’s that duality that has my attention. Whatever the reason, I am riveted.

Well, that’s partly true: I was riveted. For a while there I soaked up every bit of news I could find on the subject. CNN, the daily newspaper, NPR, local news, 60 Minutes – anything I could find which mentioned Iraq , I gave my full attention.

But the last couple of weeks I have found myself avoiding any mention of the whole thing, and when I do read or see or hear something about it, I feel sad and depressed. And I hate that feeling. I hate feeling like I don’t know where our country is headed – and I mean that literally in this case: not some vague idea of What’s to become of us? but a literal, very real sense of impending…I don’t know what. Not doom, exactly – I am given to hyperbole at times, but I am an optimist at heart, and I will probably not feel a sense of impending doom even when terrorists show up at my house with a bucket of Ebola and a vial of smallpox. I will foolishly believe that something will happen that will make everything turn out all right in the end. So no, I don’t feel that things are going to hell in the proverbial handbasket – but I do feel a distinct and poignant sense of disquiet and sadness

The thought of war has me down, sure – who wants a war, with all its bloodshed and loss of innocence? – but that’s not the main thing. I mean, as much as I hate war, there are times when I hate the alternative even more. No, I think it’s the protests of the possible war that have got me feeling this way. Of course I know that protesting against our involvement in Iraq is not exactly a new thing – I know that there have been people opposed to the U.S. trying to oust Saddam from the beginning. That is to be expected, of course, anytime any course of action is considered that involves military force – and there are always some level-headed people who oppose the war and make their opinions known in a level-headed, even-handed way. Those protests generally don’t get me down.

But lately I have watched with growing distress and melancholy as hundreds of thousands (probably millions at this point) of people around the world are turning out en masse to actively and (in my opinion) rashly protest President Bush’s plan to remove Saddam Hussein from power if he continues to refuse to comply with long-standing UN requirements regarding weapons of mass destruction. It is, specifically, such seemingly unthinking, bandwagon-ish protesting that has me upset.

So why just the distress and sadness on my part? Why not anger? Why not sharp and strident antipathy? Why not a desire to bust some heads? I don’t know. Partly, I think, because that’s not really the kind of guy I am. It takes a lot to get me rarin’ to fight. But it’s also because I think that a good old fashioned sit-down conversation of reason and logic would clear the whole thing up. Naïve, I know. I admit it. But there it is: because I think the whole thing could be cleared up with a little tete-a-tete, the ongoing misunderstanding upsets me.

This may beg another question as well: Why should I care at all? Why not just go about my business? Things will be what they will be, as usual, and there’s nothing I can do about it – so why waster time worrying about it? The answer to that one is simple: I hate to see our country – our world, too, but particularly our country – so fractiously at odds over anything. I am old-fashioned and bull-headed enough to say with a straight face that I love America . As imperfect and schizophrenic and self-hating as it can be, I love this country, and I hate to see anything divide us, especially something that doesn’t need to.

So I am saddened rather than angry about this whole thing. Besides, anger is a useless and self-serving emotion when it comes to things you genuinely care about. Like an exhausted and confounded parent who wants their runaway teenager to just come home and eat a hot meal and sleep in a warm bed, and all will be forgotten, I feel more unease and panic and aching love in the face of all this mess than anger, and I find myself watching the crowds of people holding signs and chanting slogans and (in some cases) vomiting up huge and malodorous spumes of foamy hate, and I just want to fly to where they are, grab them by the shoulders, and yell at them.

Not in anger, though. I may be a coward for not wanting to throw a punch at them (although I don’t believe I am); but instead of berating them and fighting them out of fury, I want to reason with them. I want to speak to them in the strained and urgent tones of logic and patient persuasion.

Of course the realist in me likes to point out that such a thing rarely works. People that pumped up never want to actually discuss, and the person trying the discussion tactic usually becomes as embroiled in the whole mess as the protestor. If I actually went there and tried to talk, I would probably end up in a shouting match with some guy holding a placard he was considering pounding me over the head with, staring at the pulsing vein on his forehead or neck, vaguely wishing that we could start over and discuss things in a way that would not have us wanting to kill each other. When people are in confrontational, public settings (no matter which side of the issue they are on) they rarely care about anything but the moment. Everything melts down into a shapeless dull gray ball of rhetoric, slogans, and playgroundish one-upmanship. For that very reason, I never participate in public demonstrations, no matter how strongly I feel about an issue: as far as accomplishing anything real or lasting, such demonstrations, in my opinion, fall far short.

So it wouldn’t work. I’ll just stay home and fret.

But if it could work! In addition to being an optimist and a frustrated idealist, I am also a dreamer, and I like to dream about how things would be if I actually could go meet people and sit down and discuss this whole mess over a cup of their beverage of choice. If I could hop a plane and fly out to New York City , for instance, and get right down in the mix, what would I say?

1. I would try to communicate the point that Saddam Hussein must go. This is a serious issue. This is not small potatoes – big things are at stake! Life and death, tyranny, horror, bloodshed of innocents – all the things that make for valiant and suspenseful movies and fiction – these are the things at stake in this saga. But Saddam Hussein is no benign, eccentric, Hollywood villain that the audience knows will fall in the end, no matter how the good guys do it. He is a very real threat and will (as soon as he can) cause as much pain and trouble as he can to as many people as he can.

In light of that well-documented fact, I would also point out that I think it’s ludicrous to think of leaving such a megalomaniac alone based solely on the alleged motivation of the one trying to take him down.

That’s what some people are saying, you know: that the reason we should not attack Saddam Hussein is because President Bush’s motives can’t be trusted. I will not try here to argue that Mr. Bush’s motives are pure (although I tend to think they are, lacking any evidence to the contrary). But I would like to call into question the validity of such an argument.

I had a discussion with a friend the other day that made me feel like Rod Serling was about to step out from behind the curtain with his little cigarette clamped between two fingers, gesturing slightly and talking about a journey between sight and sound. “I’m not against getting rid of Saddam Hussein,” my friend said with a straight face. “He’s definitely a bad guy, there’s no question about that. I just wonder why Bush wants to go after him. I’m suspicious of his motives.”

I was stunned into silence at hearing an intelligent, articulate person admit to such clumsy, unwieldy thinking. I just don’t get it. Ask any human rights expert, any world leader – heck, any Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel – and they’ll tell you that Saddam Hussein is a monster who will not be happy until he has cut a wide swath through the entire world. He is a dangerous, loose-cannon lunatic bent on exerting his violent and tyrannical will on anyone who stands in his way.

So does it really matter why we get rid of him? Isn’t getting rid of him the important thing? More to the point: do the motives of the person trying to disarm him change the fact that he needs to be disarmed?

My wife and I are in the process of buying a house right now, and I can’t help but imagine the following scenario: Suppose my wife, while working in her new basement art studio, notices signs of termite activity on our house’s floor joists. She calls me down to look, and I call an exterminator, who comes in and assures us that, unfortunately, we’re correct: we have a termite infestation, and our house will eventually collapse without some kind of intervention. But just as my wife is about to write him a check to treat the house and get rid of the dangerous pests, I stop her and ask him to leave. My wife, panicking because the house is in bad shape and needs to be treated soon, asks me if I’ve lost my mind. My reply? “No, honey. I wasn’t sure why he wanted to kill the termites, so I threw the bum out. In fact,” I continue, “I think we need more inspectors to come in and tell us what we already know: that our house is going to rot out from under us.”

What a madman I would be! Of course, we can assume the terminator’s motive for killing the termites was to get paid, but does it really matter? Would it matter if he were actually killing them because he had some deep-seated hate of small wood-eating bugs? Would it matter if he actually did it to spite his mother? Or because he had a termite fetish and liked to be near them any way he could? Or because his cereal told him to? No! The important thing would be that the termites are gone. Why should I care about the terminator’s thoughts on the matter, or his motivations or personal agendas?

Now this is a silly example, of course, and cannot be applied to every situation. The end does not justify the means – wrong is still wrong, regardless of intent. But the “end justifies the means” argument doesn’t apply here: it begs the question that what the president wants to do is wrong. On the contrary, Saddam Hussein’s history of maniacal violence and heinous human rights violations dictates the right thing to do: get rid of him. And the people who claim that we shouldn’t do that because President Bush wants to dominate the world or control oil or win at Scrabble or whatever else – I don’t get those people. If you don’t trust the man, don’t vote for him in the next election. In the meantime, let him disarm a ticking bomb that’s just waiting to detonate and take you and your family with it.

2. I would tell them that the majority is not always right.

First of all, it bears noticing that even though there are a lot of people protesting the possibility of war, they are not nearly a majority. Even generous reports estimate the number of world-wide protestors at around a couple of million souls – given that there are five or six billion people in the world, that’s hardly a majority.

But even if, for the sake of argument, the majority were turning out to protest the effort – that still doesn’t mean they’re right.

I am no conspiracy theorist, but I can’t help but notice the glee (either born of personal bias or joy at having such a juicy news story, or a combination of both) with which the news personalities report the growing number of people who are clamoring for us to leave poor Saddam alone. See, the journalists’ faces say, All these people can’t be wrong. Obviously we should not attack Saddam Hussein.

But have we so soon forgotten the lessons of history on this subject? One need only glance at our very own nation’s past to see that the majority opinion is often flawed and occasionally downright wrong. At one point in our nation’s history, for instance, the majority of the people believed that it was okay to own another person as chattel, against their will. At one point, the majority of people believed that certain citizens should be required to sit at the back of a bus and hosed down with fire hoses for objecting. At one point, the majority believed that children should be forced to labor from sunup to sundown, and that the insane should be caged and beaten like deranged animals.

I could go on, of course – I haven’t even touched on the world’s shady history of majority rule. This is not to say that majority rule is never a good idea; obviously that’s not true. But history is fraught with the oppressive and disgusting results of wrong-headed majority-is-always-right thinking. A great principle at the very heart of decency is that the majority should not be allowed to do absolutely anything it wants just by virtue of it being the majority.

The truth is that sometimes it is necessary to do what is right, even if it is not in accordance with the majority opinion. Don’t we respect those who have chosen to do the right thing, even in the face of rabid opposition? Ghandi. Martin Luther. Martin Luther King, Jr. Our founding fathers. Sure, such people usually have their detractors, but for the most part we consider them honorable men who did what was right without being swayed by the fickle and oft-times arbitrary opinion of the majority. I think our current situation is one of those cases. Yes, President Bush’s stance on Iraq seems to be becoming less and less popular.

But I say: So What?

Mr. President, you will never read this, but I implore you to do what is right, even if it means being unpopular. Ally support is important, and it would be great if everyone were on board, but that should not be the controlling factor. History will look kindly on the person who bravely acts on what is right in the face of contrary popular opinion.

3. I would try to make the case that this whole thing reflects of a certain loss of (or at least a decline in) the ability of the average person to recognize and identify evil.

I will never forget a conversation I had with a friend after the September 11th, 2001 , attacks. We were discussing the president’s speech to congress not long after the tragedy, and my friend said, with a straight face, “I don’t like that he called them evil. Who is he to say what’s evil?”

I was stunned. Was my friend serious? Was he really suggesting that the president (and, by implication, the rest of humanity) is not qualified to recognize and identify evil?

Why is the idea of evil such a foreign one? Are there mounds and mounds of evidence that I somehow missed that indicate that evil is a myth? Does anyone really believe that the atrocities of history can be chalked up to anything other than evil?

More to the point, what do you call the murder of 3000+ innocents, if not evil? If that’s not evil, then evil has no definition!

Which, I guess, was my friend’s point. And it’s a point blindly shared by a frightening number of people.

But we shouldn’t be afraid to call ‘em as we see ‘em: Saddam Hussein is evil. These are not just cultural distinctions or hair-splitting policy issues. This is not about how short you should wear your skirt or how long your hair should be. Just like with 9/11, we’re talking about certain, incontrovertible evil: mass murder, terrorism, tyranny, torture. Saddam Hussein is an evil, murdering, villainous man. Is that so hard to say?

The thing I also find most humorlessly ironic is that many of the same people who bristle at labeling terrorists and murderers as evil seem to have no trouble referring to our president as such. He’s the real evil, they say, because he’s so darn war hungry. Never mind that this is akin to saying that the police officer is the evil one because he shoots the rapist who has a knife pressed to your wife’s throat.

I am no doomsday prophet, but I must say that this lack of ability to recognize evil does not bode well for our nation and our world.

4. I would point out that the real agenda for many of the protestors is “anti-Bush,” not “anti-war.”

As the Internet Monk himself has pointed out, the hatred of George W. Bush among a certain ideological demographic is just as vitriolic and knee-jerk as the hatred of Bill Clinton was among another ideological demographic. There’s just something about President Bush that sets some people off, and anything that can be used to bring disparity on him they will latch onto like a leech latching onto the meaty flesh of a fat man’s buttock. And many of them see this possible war as just one way to chip away at President Bush’s tenure in office, hopefully ensuring a humiliating defeat in 2004.

This is sad, really. No, actually, it’s beyond sad: it’s reprehensible. There is so much at stake here that to use this, of all things, for political leverage borders on criminal irresponsibility, and it is just the kind of thing that some protestors accuse the president himself of. It’s this kind of blatantly hypocritical nonsense that is the mark of so many radical, reactionary types: Facts? What facts? I’m talking about something far more important.

I am not here to serve as an apologist for President Bush. That is, perhaps, the job of a more politically learned scholar on this site. But I can’t help but notice that the hatred that seems to fuel so many people’s reactions is based on sketchy, if not wholly imaginary, notions. “Blood for Oil”? Are you serious? Are people really naïve enough to think that because we get some of our oil from the middle east, and Iraq is in the middle east, that there is an automatic relational motivation? Isn’t that rather simplistic? I am no scholar of logic either, but I believe that’s called a non sequitur – it simply doesn’t follow. Where is the evidence of such an impetus?

I just wonder if any of the people I have seen and heard oozing hatred for our president while using the Iraq situation as a smokescreen have ever stopped to consider how dishonest they are being. Of course I know the answer to that one.

5. I would tell them that much of this protestation is due more to mob mentality than to any substantive and genuine complaint.

Public protests are strange things. They seem to take on a life of their own, and the longer they go on and the more popular they get, the more people are attracted to the hubbub without any coherent reason for joining in. It’s a fact: the mob mentality can easily take over and run away with any public protest. That’s how so many riots break out and why so many people get beat up and injured in protest situations: the mob takes on a mind of its own, and people as a group do things they would never do as individuals. It’s really a frightening thing to behold.

I think that’s some of what is going on here. I believe that if you asked many of the protestors to articulate their position, they would have a very hard time moving beyond slogans and parroted rhetoric.

And of course, the mob mentality totally ignores things as inconvenient as reason and genuine dialect, and very often the mob will act in direct opposition to the very principles it claims to be espousing. Evidence of this exists already in the present situation: recently, some of the protestors crying for peace at any cost are the very ones who pulled New York City police officers from their horses and beat them! At a peace rally! The next time I am teaching my class about irony, I’ll be sure to use this example. While this is (obviously) not characteristic of every protestor, it is indicative of how the mob mentality works, and as time goes on, we will see even more examples of such mindless activity. I would like to get at least one protestor away from the crowd and the placards and the rhetoric and the mob mentality and ask him to just sit down and tell me why he is so adamantly opposed to ridding the world of such a dangerous and evil force. I can’t imagine what the answer would be.

6. I would like to know: How long must we wait before disarming a maniac?

It’s a story we’ve all heard: a man has a history of abuse, he’s a weasel and a snake, and he threatens to kill or otherwise harm his girlfriend. She calls the police to see about getting him put away before he does some real damage, and what do the authorities say? “Sorry, ma’am, but we can’t do anything until he breaks the law.” The woman, frustrated, walks around scared to death until the maniac does something arrestable, hopefully something that does not result in her or her children’s death.

We feel sorry for her, right? It seems like if someone poses a threat to the woman, something ought to be done about it, and before he has a chance to harm her.

Isn’t that the same situation we have here, only on a larger scale? We didn’t just wake up one day and decide that we didn’t like the way this guy Saddam brilliantines his mustache. He has a history of violent behavior. His evil tendencies are well documented and poorly hidden. Given the chance, he will sow strife and reap destruction. So why the push to give him more time (even though he has been out of compliance with UN resolutions for years)? What are we waiting for? For him to actually do something? Is it me, or is that just really insane? Should the poor woman have to wait until her violent boyfriend actually shoots her before obtaining a restraining order? The very idea is outrageous!

I sometimes wonder what would happen if we could go back in time to before September of 2001 and have a chance to annihilate the evil men responsible for that day’s carnage. Would there be people who would protest such a strike? I fear that there would be some, because there are always some, but I am willing to bet if we knew then what we know now about that day, there would be very few people who would be against such a preemptive course of action. Nearly every American has wished at least once in the past year and a half, I wish we had done something! I wish we had known what could happen if we did nothing! I wish we had the chance to go back and do it differently!

Well, ladies and gentlemen, here we are: we have been granted that chance. This time, we have been granted the opportunity to stop it before it happens. We know the pain of inaction, and we know that Saddam Hussein has the means and the will to attack and kill and destroy everyone and every thing that gets in the way of his nefarious schemes.

Are we really content to do nothing, and thus give him that opportunity?

I hope not.

The Two Faces of Parental Involvement

The Two Faces of Parental Involvement
by Steve McFarland

Dr. Doolittle made famous an animal likened unto a llama only with two heads. As I recall it was known in Doolittle books as a “Push Me – Pull You”. In order for one end of the animal to go in a forward motion, the other end inevitably traveled in reverse.

Contemporary education must be familiar with this “push me – pull you” concept. It has been yanking us around with two headed notions for longer than we care to remember. About the time we become familiar with the direction it takes, something new and profound catches it’s eye and we are suddenly off to another new method, philosophy and learning technique. At times educational concepts go in opposite directions simultaneously.

We have been told for several years now that parents cannot and should not be depended on for educational support. The idea inside this notion is that educators know best and that the majority of American parents will only confuse children. There is also an assumption that all parents are too busy, too drugged, too complacent or too divorced to be anything but a signature on the bottom of a permission form.

So while one end of this animal moves toward a system devoid of parental influence, the other pushes for a statistical increase in the very parent involvement it has for years tried to supplant. Bizarre animal indeed.

In order to make this work, education has redefined parental involvement all together. For its statistical cravings, schools have devised elaborate and creative ways of simply getting parents inside the building. Parents inside the walls of a school constitute involvement. A fall festival will draw 800 families and we describe our school as having great parent involvement. A school offers parent classes and have three show up and the school is described as being “parent friendly.” Some schools have taken to counting parents who come to the school for reasons ranging from bringing a forgotten band instrument to using a telephone due to a flat tire.

Time to get real. I am a parent who works in a school where both my children have attended and even I cannot keep up with all their work or understand all the things they are supposed to do. But, I am a parent involved with my children. I know them. I know what they need, what scares them, what they like, what they want. I know because I am at home with them. My wife and I put them to bed and wake them up. We discipline them and love them. We encourage, demand, make mistakes and show our own weaknesses before them. They know us as well as we know them. That is involvement.

It needs to be said to the experts that parents generally know more, care more, and want more regarding their children than does a school system. To be involved with my children should not be equated with number of times I have been to my daughter’s class or volunteered at the school car wash. Too few parents are able to have the luxury of spending that kind of time in a school. Typically the parents that top the list for volunteer hours are those not having to work and we should not assume all other parents have no interest in their child’s education.

A survey was released recently by the Horatio Alger Association that stated most children want their parents involved in their lives. Eighty four percent of those surveyed said their future success would be defined by their having a close family relationship. Over half surveyed indicated they would prefer confiding in a family member over anyone else.

Educators need to listen to the children on this one. They want parents. And they want teachers. They do not want an animal with both heads.

There is no denying that some children lack parents capable and/or willing to provide proper support. But let’s not paint all parents on the same canvas. I am convinced that most parents care and are involved with their children – more than expert educators would care to admit. It is far easier to blame poor academics on a nameless, faceless parent than face up to the harsh reality of the system’s continuous failure.

Perhaps its time schools throw out the book on parental involvement and promote real educational involvement. I have personally crusaded this message for the past few years in my school and the result is an increase in the number of parent-teacher conferences available through the school year. Parents have the right to know their child’s teacher and the subject matter they study. If they want to stop by the front office and answer the phone for an hour a week, great! Just make sure to sign in so you can get counted.

Leave your seat, leave your sin (part 3)

“Leave Your Seat. Leave Your Sin” Part III
It’s all good? Hardly. How the invitation has corrupted evangelicalism.
by Michael Spencer

Occasional abuse does not render a thing evil. This is common sense and evident to any reasonable person. Defenders of the public invitation are usually congenial about admitting to its abuse, yet they are quick to maintain that those abuses do not interfere with the many benefits of the invitation when rightly practiced. While a cursory critic of the altar call might be persuaded by this claim, a closer examination will find just the opposite to be the case. The public invitation itself has corrupted much of evangelicalism.

It is important to remember the basic historical background of the invitation. In short, it was unknown in Christianity until the middle of the nineteenth century. If the advocates of the invitation can convince themselves from a highly biased reading of scripture that the public invitation is biblically sanctioned, they will be disappointed to find that the invitation apparently vanished without a trace from Christian history. It cannot be found until the innovations of America’s second great awakening took hold in the ministries of Finney and Moody.

Most interesting to me is the absence of the public invitation in the ministries of two important evangelical figures: George Whitefield and Charles Haddon Spurgeon. Both Whitefield and Spurgeon are among the greatest evangelists of their generation, but neither practiced the public altar call in any form. Whitefield preached the necessity of regeneration, but not the public invitation. Spurgeon saw many thousands come to Christ during his ministry, but he never used an altar call, and criticized Moody for using it in his British meetings. Interestingly, the altar call was imported into Spurgeon’s church after his death, and the church declined immediately. While there is no claim of cause and effect, Ian Murray has helpfully documented that the older members of Spurgeon’s congregation knew a significant shift had been made by the addition of this innovation, and they specifically noted Spurgeon’s refusal to use such means.

The use of the altar call came alongside a series of theological shifts in evangelicalism. These shifts were foundational, as evangelicals rejected the Biblical foundations of reformed theology. The invitation was not simply pragmatic- it was deeply rooted in significant theological changes regarding human ability, the extent of depravity, the work of the Holy Spirit, the place of regeneration, the nature of faith and the relationship of faith and works. What were these shifts?

Each one could occupy an essay unto itself. I will simply list several of the most significant.

  • The shift from believing regeneration was a work of the Holy Spirit prior to faith to believing regeneration was a work that resulted from a human action.
  • The shift from believing that baptism was the only Biblically prescribed public response to the Gospel to seeing altar calls and enquiry rooms as Biblically endorsed responses.
  • The shift from depending on the work of the Holy Spirit apart from means other than preaching and prayer to assuming the Holy Spirit would use any means calculated to bring people to faith in Christ.
  • The shift from insisting that a person establish a visible testimony in a local church to assuming that anyone responding to an invitation was converted.
  • The shift from the preacher being an expounder of scripture to allowing the preacher to direct the invitation through whatever means he might choose.
  • The shift from emphasizing human inability and depravity to emphasizing human ability and responsiveness.
  • The shift from scriptural regulation to pragmatic experimentation.
  • The shift from guarding a faith response from any association with a human work to freely associating faith with many human works.

An exploration of these shifts will reveal that each one is a corrupting error with devastating consequences. It is to those consequences that I will now turn in the remainder of this essay.

The public invitation has filled local churches with the unconverted.

I am not an advocate of any notion that the local church can ever be completely free from unconverted members. Scripture is very clear that the visible church will always contain members who are unconverted. Yet, while the visible church is not commissioned to try and discern what only God can know, there is a very real danger of making a credible profession of faith so easy that the church will be filled with those who are not converted.

As a lifelong Southern Baptist, I have been keenly aware of the “inactive” church member, the invisible church member, the walk-the-aisle-and-right-out-the-door member. Southern Baptists have millions of professed members who have no place or part in the visible church. In fact, many of these inactive members made little more than a one time response to an invitation and were immediately baptized and counted as members of the church. This absurd situation- which grows worse every year- is a direct result of Southern Baptist’s love affair with the public invitation.

The public invitation gives a false assurance of salvation to the unconverted.

While few invitationalists will spend any time debating the invitation, they will spend hours debating the salvation of those who have responded to the invitation. The consensus among Southern Baptists, with their devotion to once-saved-always-saved and their almost total neglect of the Biblical teaching on perseverance, is that these invisible Christians will be in heaven BECAUSE they responded once upon a time to a public invitation.

This assurance to the church is doubly tragic as an assurance to the lost that they are saved as a result of responding to an altar call. At least Arminians have a theology that will conclude these persons are lost (again!) and need salvation. The Southern Baptist formula of “once you walk the aisle you are going to heaven” is a four lane expressway to hell.

The public invitation corrupts the role and practice of the preacher.

One of the truly remarkable results of the use of the invitation has been the transformation of Christian ministers from preachers and proclaimers to manipulators and salesman. In fact, sales techniques and other pressure tactics are highly valued among invitationalists as “getting results,” and results are what matters.

When anyone reads Spurgeon’s sermons, they will be impressed with the earnest, impassioned invitations which often conclude the messages. Of course, these were invitations where the preacher was representing the invitations of God in the Gospel, and Spurgeon spared no emotion in presenting those invitations with all the powers of persuasion he possessed.

Yet, Spurgeon did not tell the congregation to close their eyes and raise their hands. He did not say go to a friend and bring them with you. He did not use tactics to manipulate a result. Spurgeon could be criticized- and was- for his use of emotional pleading, but those pleadings were never joined with tactics to bring people to the front to register a decision.

Today ministerial manipulation is a highly valued skill. Ministers who can effectively get people down the aisle are considered superior evangelists. Of course, once this corrupting error has been set loose in Christianity, there has been no limit to what some will do, and if it results in “decisions,” it will be defended as an anointed work of God.

The public invitation makes pragmatism, not scripture, the authority that regulates worship.

I have never met an avowed Christian pragmatist in principle, though I have met hundreds in practice. There is an instinctive resistance to openly rejecting scriptural regulation of the church, even by those who want no part of confessional or governmental regulation in the church.

But the public invitation has been the battering ram that has brought down scriptural regulation within evangelicalism. Thousands of churches now accept anything and everything in the church because it will reach or entertain or possibly draw in SOMEBODY. Pragmatism has become a stronger influence in the PRACTICE of the church than scripture itself. It matters little to evangelicals today that prayer and scripture reading are specifically and repeatedly endorsed in the Bible as part of worship. The question is “What will the seekers think?” Unbelievably, many evangelicals want no real scripture reading or public prayer in their services. In other words, pragmatism now reigns supreme, and the public invitation was the beginning.

The public invitation has excused an increasing collection of excesses.

The public invitation has allowed any number of unnecessary excesses into many churches. Invitational excesses are almost always excused under the all-purpose excuse “You never know what God may be doing.” I have been in the unenviable position of attempting to correct excesses during the invitation at the ministry where I serve, and I can testify that no matter what a distressed, disturbed or purely selfish person may do during the invitation, there will be support for overlooking it. Some have even concluded that the more bizarre the excess, the more likely it is a “God thing.”

Recent events in evangelicalism have shown the powerful influence of the invitation on the thinking of evangelicals. Laughing, drunkenness, animal sounds, vomiting, screaming, falling over- all these activities now have a lobby urging their acceptance into Christian worship because they represent responses seen at the “altar.” The invitation itself is morphing into an independent arena of its own in many churches. At the altar, “prayer ministers” conduct “ministry time,” often taking over a service for hours.

Each of these matters should be considered scripturally. I am simply contending that it is the continuing impact of invitationalism that has brought churches to the point of being so confused about what are obviously excessive manifestations of human emotionalism.

The public invitation has promoted a false spirituality that replaces faith with works.

My own greatest concern about the invitation is the most simple observation that I can make. Christian spirituality is a matter of the Holy Spirit and the response of faith. Invitationalism has birthed an entire spirituality of works.

Who is the most spiritual person? Why the person most often down the aisle and at the altar. Who is the person most in tune with the Holy Spirit? Who is the most evangelistic? The most prayerful? The most zealous? Invitationalism provides an easy way to answer these questions. Just look down front.

I attended a Promise Keepers meeting this year, and at the conclusion of the meeting, a cross was brought down to the floor and an elaborate invitation was offered with the stated goal of getting everyone down to the floor to touch the cross. Those of us who refused to participate in the pre-announced Holy Spirit inspired commitment to bring five lost men to a PK meeting next year were looked at as if we were the Taliban, or at least unconverted ourselves.

This sort of thing is a false spirituality. It is the spirituality that says wearing a Christian t-shirt, listening to Christian music, going to Christian concerts, eating Christian cereal is somehow an expression of faith. But anyone familiar with medieval Roman Catholicism would quickly spot what evangelicalism is turning into by going this road.

Faith is not a fleshly proposition. The public invitation was the major breach in Protestantism’s resistance to the works oriented salvation of Rome. The Old School Presbyterians who resisted Charles Finney’s “New Measures” knew that if Finney was able to say that faith was simply a decision to raise a hand, or stand up or walk forward, the resulting infusion of works into the response to the Gospel would be a road back to Rome. Finney won, and his critics were right.

Evangelicalism is now at a crisis point, where the crosswinds of entertainment, entrepreneurism, marketability and numerical success are pulling it in many dangerous directions. The anchor of scriptural authority has been abandoned, and the sails of pragmatism have been set. The various crews and passengers may find these to be exciting times, but more experienced sailors know what the future holds. This is a gathering storm, and there will be no escaping disaster if the mistakes of the past are not admitted and forsaken.

The call for a second reformation is nothing less than a call to save evangelicalism from destruction. My critique of the public invitation isn’t just tilting at windmills. It is a call to repentance, reformation and revival.

Leave your seat, leave your sin (part 2)

“Leave Your Seat. Leave Your Sin” Part II
It’s all good? Hardly. How the invitation has corrupted evangelicalism.
by Michael Spencer

When I say that the public invitation isn’t in the Bible, my fellow Christians look as me as if I have just evidenced severe dementia. How could something that is so much a part of the life and worship of evangelicals not be in the Bible? Am I just so blindly opposed to the invitation that I can’t see all the Biblical support for calling people to get right with God? How are you supposed to preach the Gospel if you don’t give people an opportunity to publicly declare their faith in Christ? Without the invitation, aren’t we denying people the opportunity to come to Christ?

If you consider the language used by many evangelical practitioners of inviatationalism, it’s not surprising that people would conclude that the public invitation is the way to Christ. Rick Gage’s invitation was reported in our Baptist State newspaper as “Leave your seat. Leave your sin. Come to Christ.” If one doesn’t leave his or her seat, one doesn’t get to Christ. I have heard youth evangelists say that Christ was at the front of the room, and you were invited to come down and receive him. The similarity of this type of instruction to the Roman Catholic Mass is remarkable.

My own experience of invitationalism comes from a tradition that did not hesitate to say that those who failed to come forward had failed to receive Christ. Invitation hymns pleaded with the lost to come forward. Preachers and evangelists used every bit of their skill to persuade you to let go of that pew and come to the front. With no less conviction than Tetzel these preachers were convinced that if you walked that aisle you were coming to Christ. The whole atmosphere of invitationalism is full of language adapted to express that the trip down the aisle is the saving response to Christ. “Hey guess what? I went forward last Sunday!”

Of course, the Bible is abundantly clear that we are saved by faith alone. And I doubt if any of my altar-calling friends would take any issue with that at all. Many would even say that the altar call is not synonymous with faith, but is a profession of faith. I could peacefully live with this distinction if the advocates of the altar call could do the same, and shape the altar call in that format. Most of them cannot and will not.

Most evangelicals advocate believer’s baptism. If there is an external act that is Biblically required in order to credibly profess faith in Christ, it would be baptism. But the altar call is rarely a call to baptism. Instead, the altar call is the call to Christ, and to receive Christ by coming forward and praying. In other words, advocates of the altar call add one or two physical actions as requirements for either salvation or a credible profession of faith. Since scripture does not add these requirements, we have no warrant to do so.

Advocates of the invitation may want to protest this observation, but it is undeniable. Attend any evangelistic event long enough to hear what is said after the invitation. It is more than normal to hear an applause line built around the news that a certain number came forward and are now saved as a result. People who walk aisles are people who were lost before they left their seat and saved when they came forward.

Let’s now turn to some of the passages commonly cited as supporting the public invitation.

Luke 12:8-9 “And I tell you, everyone who acknowledges me before men, the Son of Man also will acknowledge before the angels of God, but the one who denies me before men will be denied before the angels of God.

This scripture (and many similar passages) is probably the first one that is cited as a defense for the public invitation, but its weakness is readily apparent. The context has to do with encouraging the disciples to live fearless, faithful lives in a hostile world. Jesus is saying that his disciples must publicly acknowledge him if their faith is to be honored on the day of judgment. It is easy to see the passage talking about what a Christian ought to do when persecuted or in the ordinary course of a Christian witness. To make the passage apply to an altar call is not completely inappropriate, but it is clearly not what the passage is talking about. If anything, the best understood context for the early Christians would have been baptism or the pressures to deny Christ when brought before hostile magistrates.

Romans 10:8-9 8 But what does it say? “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart” (that is, the word of faith that we proclaim); 9 because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

Of course, the altar call is not mentioned here either and one has to impose it on the verse to imagine that an altar call is envisioned. Here, faith and public confession are held together. It is unlikely that the early Christians would have viewed a person as a believer if they had not confessed Christ in and at baptism. This isn’t to say that they did not understand a distinction between faith and baptism or that they believed in baptisimal regeneration in a literal sense. It is to say that the call to faith and the call to obedient confession- most likely in baptism- were not separated. That is why the closest thing to a public invitation you will find in the New Testament are passages urging persons to declare their faith through baptism.

Acts 2:37-41 37 Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, “Brothers, what shall we do?” 38 And Peter said to them, “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. 39 For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.” 40 And with many other words he bore witness and continued to exhort them, saying, “Save yourselves from this crooked generation.” 41 So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.

Acts 8:35-36 35 Then Philip opened his mouth, and beginning with this Scripture he told him the good news about Jesus. 36 And as they were going along the road they came to some water, and the eunuch said, “See, here is water! What prevents me from being baptized?”

The call to be baptized is not a call to the evangelical altar, and no matter how we may view the relationship of faith and baptism, the duty of resting on Christ and the proclamation of faith in baptism do not constitute an endorsement of the sacramentalizing of the altar call. If anything, we might rightly criticize the public invitation for de-emphasizing baptism as public confession and inventing a new sacrament.

What about passages that mention an invitation? Don’t these substantiate an altar call?

Isaiah 55:1 “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.

Matthew 11:28 28 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Isn’t the best way to use these scriptural invitations to actually have an invitation to the altar in a worship service or evangelistic setting? Well….no. These are invitations from God Himself and their beauty is that those addressed are urged to come to Christ. This is a spiritual call. It is not a physical call. Listen to Jesus in John 6 and Paul in Galatians 3:

John 6:63 63 It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is of no avail. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.

Galatians 3:2-3 2 Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? 3 Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?

These are passages with remarkable importance in the matter of using public invitations. Walking the aisle is a work of the flesh. Unlike baptism, which is commanded, altar calls are not commanded. What we have is a spiritual invitation to come to Christ; an invitation that cannot be fulfilled by a physical response. We cannot leave our sin by leaving our seat. We cannot come to Christ by walking forward. Faith in Christ is a spiritual response and there is great danger- GREAT DANGER!- in leading someone to conclude that their physical response automatically entailed a spiritual reality.

At this point there may be some agreement that the invitation is not explicitly taught in scripture, but now the pragmatic argument will be heard. I often say that we are living in the “Dictatorship of the Pragmatariat” in evangelicalism these days! Whatever works, whatever “helps,” whatever makes things easier, is automatically endorsed as approved by God and, if not taught in scripture, approved by passages such as

1 Corinthians 9:22b-23 I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. 23 I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings.

When pragmatists use this verse, I marvel that they do not see how its simple meaning escapes them. In I Corinthians 9, Paul isn’t celebrating pragmatism, but Christian freedom. To whatever audience he brought the Gospel, he was free to identify with them as much as was possible to communicate the Gospel without compromise. If Paul was saying he would employ any method that worked, he certainly had changed his mind from I Corinthians 1, where he stubbornly says that he knew nothing (methodologically and pragmatically) among the Corinthians but preaching Christ crucified. Paul was flexible missionary, removing many obstacles so that all might hear. Calling him a full blown pragmatist doing whatever got a crowd to respond doesn’t seem to fit the facts.

Look at Acts 17. In Athens, Paul came to the philosophers to preach Christ on their turf and in answer to some of their own questions. it’s a great example of missiological and evangelistic flexibility, but not much of an example of “doing whatever seems to work.”

So what about the pragmatic contention that the public invitation works? It gets people to leave their seat and come to Christ. It helps people make a solid, public commitment that they will always remember. By walking forward, they are not only confessing Christ but publicly professing Christ in a way that makes the decision meaningful? Does it really help people leave their sin and come to Christ?

I gotta tell you, if this were the case, I would probably not be writing this article. I am pragmatic enough to be pulled in if I actually saw that this were the case. As strongly as I believe scripture speaks, if you could show me the Holy Spirit pragmatically honoring the altar call, I would be able to come up with some kind of an endorsement.

The problem is, this is NOT what happens. The public invitation has become the ecclesiastical equivalent of a dog chasing his tail until he passes out. It starts out slow, gets faster, looks even more ridiculous, and the poor mutt is determined to catch the thing, but just can’t do it. The invitationalists just can’t quit playing with the altar call. Their pragmatic creed dictates that if we just can add a little this or that we will get even more results. The feeling of riding in a vehicle without brakes may be familiar to anyone observing this phenomenon.

Shake the preacher’s hand. Come tell the preacher about your decision. Come make your decision. Come get saved. Rededicate. Get saved again. Make a commitment to full-time Christian service. Pray at the altar. Fill out the card. Prayer this prayer after me. Prayer counselors. Prayer teams. Come with a friend. Raise your hand, stand up, get prayed for, THEN come forward. Come to the altar and hang around. Get slain in the Spirit. Come and tell us about your healing. Come and get healed. Come and get delivered. Come and get prophesied over. Come and get anointed. Come and get knocked over. Come every week. Come and pray for someone else. Come and pray with someone else. Come and testify. Come, run around a couple of laps, then return to your seat. Come and then go back to a room. Jesus is down here. Angels are down here. Come down here and touch the cross. Everyone who is a real Christian come down here. Sing another verse. Come without singing. Let go of that seat and come. Take someone’s hand and ask them to go with you.

I’ll stop there, but there is plenty more where that came from.

What have we concluded? First, there is no plain endorsement or example of the altar call in scripture. Second, the scripture passages used to endorse or concoct the altar call don’t do either. Third, a pragmatic endorsement of the invitation runs aground on both a lack of scriptural endorsement of pragmatism in general or the altar call in particular. Fourth, there is good evidence that the public invitation isn’t just an ever-enlarging circus of a mess, but a corrupting disease within evangelicalism.

For a look at what invitationalism has done to evangelical spirituality and church health, read part III. Until then, I’m stayin’ in my seat.

Leave your seat, leave your sin (part 1)

“Leave Your Seat. Leave Your Sin”
How the public invitation has corrupted evangelical Christianity
Part 1: A view from the aisle seat.
by Michael Spencer

Our state Baptist newspaper arrived this morning, with a familiar picture dominating the front page. An evangelist- in this instance Rick Gage- is standing on a stage with hundreds of people- mostly teenagers- at his feet. They have responded to the public invitation given moments before at the conclusion of Gage’s message. I’ve had Gage in my chapel, and know that he is a zealous, sincere, powerful and persuasive speaker. At the bottom of the picture is a summary of Gage’s invitation to those who heard his message.

“Leave your seat. Leave your sin. Come to the cross.”

Those who know me know that I am not bashful in my opposition to the use of the public invitation in worship or as an evangelistic tool. In my ministry as a campus minister, I am not required to use the invitation, and in the majority of sermons that I preach I do not use an “altar call.” In those services where I am expected to use one, I either find a way to avoid it or I probably offer the most modest, low profile public invitation in history. I will talk the ears off of anyone who engages me about my feelings about the appropriateness of the invitation, as my friends in the Boar’s Head Tavern know all too well. I have been told subtly and none-too-subtly that this is no hill to die on, but I am not deterred. I plan to keep kicking at this wall till I make a dent in it.

My qualifications to speak on this subject are solid. I grew up in an atmosphere where intense, pleading, manipulative invitations were considered the heart and soul of religion. Sure, preachers were expected to know how to be fishers of men, but they were also expected to know all the ways to get the fish into the boat. I watched some classic practitioners of the art of Southern Baptist invitationalism, and I accepted the Biblical endorsement of all I saw on the reputation of people I trusted as elders in the faith. I had no doubt that at the end of the sermon on the mount, Jesus offered an invitation and they sang ten verses of “Just As I Am.”

During twenty-six years of youth ministry, I have seen the public invitation from another angle: its effect on young people and their faith journeys. I have seen the invitation used at youth camps, concerts, youth revivals, evangelistic crusades, worship services and dozens of other settings where the goal was to get young people to profess their commitment to Jesus Christ. In the vast majority of these settings, the invitation was straight-forward and Gospel based. of course, I’ve seen the other side of that coin as well.

I made my own profession of faith in an invitational context, as did my wife and children. I have preached the Gospel, offered invitations to come forward and seen people make their own professions of faith in Christ in response. Nearly every evangelical Christian I know responded to an altar call somewhere at the outset of their faith journey. People I respect greatly use the invitation today. Many of those who preach to my congregation of students and adults use the invitation. Just two days ago an 83 year-old local pastor offered an old-fashioned gospel invitation in my chapel, and several young people responded. He is as saintly and as sincere a soul-winner as I have ever seen. Do not take my critique as an expression of disrespect.

So where did I go wrong?

I think my first deviance from the norm came as a very lost young man. I was 11 years old, and an evangelist came to our church and met just with my Sunday School department. There were three rows of us children lined up, and the guest evangelist gave a twenty minute appeal just for us, complete with an invitation to come forward and be saved. Everyone went forward- except little Mike Spencer (the preacher’s nephew.) I can still, 35 years later, feel that moment of isolation and determination to not be manipulated. My best friend Perry was up there. All the other kids were up there, and would be up in the baptistery in a couple of weeks. But not me. Maybe I was stubborn. Maybe I had my dad’s Eastern Kentucky Mountain recalcitrance. Whatever it was, I would not go up front, and I didn’t like the tactics that were used to get me there.

I also remember feeling that some of what I saw was manipulation. One evangelist brought a picture of a flaming automobile. He said this was what hell was like. Even as a kid, I thought that was somehow not playing fair. Another evangelist vividly acted out the brutal beating of a retarded boy and said the resulting feeling in our stomach was the Holy Spirit. I was taken to some evangelistic meetings where we were in “invitation” mode for an hour or more. Often these meetings were full of appeals that fell somewhere just short of commands to come forward or be sent to hell before bedtime. I heard bizarre appeals, emotional appeals, irrational appeals, mystical appeals, pragmatic appeals and brazenly manipulative appeals. I was turned off by them all, and increasingly started to say so.

As a youth minister, I also began to see the invitation differently. At first, it was with a kind of cynical humor that laughed at the laughable. Youth camps where college preachers could literally say or do anything and get an altar full of crying kids. The invitation seemed to attract religious neurotics like moths to a light bulb, and I couldn’t help myself. It was often ridiculous. But during those same years I became aware of the unethical and psychologically manipulative side of all that was going on. I’ve always loved the kids I work with, and I treated them with respect. I didn’t believe in arm-twisting, bribery, scare tactics or crass emotional manipulation. Many of the preachers, speakers, musicians and youth evangelists my kids heard during those years didn’t have the same approach.

The real problem was that I knew- I absolutely knew- that many of my aisle walkers were not saved. I knew that some of them responded to every invitation and bragged about it. I knew that some had made “first time professions” five times. I saw gallons of emotion that meant nothing. I watched the group psychology evident in many of the settings where I took my kids and it dawned on me that going down front was simply participating. Doing what was expected. Having the full experience. Worthless? I couldn’t say that with total confidence, but I concluded that “almost worthless” was not an exaggeration.

I quickly got my fill of it, and I didn’t hesitate to say so. The straw that broke the camel’s back was two-fold. The first occurred while I was pastoring, and the wife of a staff member was leading small children in vacation Bible school. At the end of the week, she stood on one side of the room, placed the kids on the other, and said “Now all of you children who want to go to heaven with Mrs. _________, come stand by me.” They all did, and she presented them all for baptism. It wasn’t right, and that became obvious in conversations with each of the children, who proved to know virtually nothing of their need or the savior.

The second straw was a tiny article in our state Baptist paper giving some evangelism statistics for out state. The first column was for children “Four and under.” There were several professions of faith listed. (I have since learned that toddler professions of faith are not all unusual in invitational contexts, and churches have received and baptized three year old aisle walkers for years.) I know that a whole debate could detour at that point, but at the time, Baptist that I was, it hit me squarely as about as wrong as could be. And the invitation was obviously to blame for luring children into the trap of believing that if you could walk forward and touch the preacher, you could go to heaven.

Then I met the Calvinists. I was ruined.

Long before I read Iain Murray’s The Invitation System or any other Reformed critique of the invitation, I had some clues to what was going on. I had heard my pastor talk about churches that didn’t have an invitation and how they weren’t really churches. (I grew up among the Landmark Baptists, so this wasn’t a hard statement to make.) But one of my best friends was an Episcopalian, and his family were wonderful Christians. I was already reading solid non-invitational Bible teachers like J.I. Packer, John Stott and Francis Schaefer as a high school and college student. I’d visited the LCMS church in town and knew they preached the Gospel. I had a suspicion that everyone who passed on the altar call wasn’t an apostate.

It was my introduction to Reformed men like Charles Spurgeon, Al Martin and John Macarthur that helped me to see that not only was the public invitation not historically required, it was not Biblically endorsed or pragmatically necessary. I discovered that for thousands (not hundreds!) of years, Christianity had operated entirely without the invitation system. The Reformers didn’t use the invitation. The great missionaries didn’t use it. Whitefield. Wesley. Spurgeon. Edwards. Nettleton. The early Southern Baptists. None of them used the altar call as we know it. The first Great Awakening happened without it. Much of the Second Great Awakening happened without it. Spurgeon built the largest church in the English speaking world without using the altar call. D. James Kennedy invented Evangelism Explosion, but he doesn’t use a public invitation. I’d been lied to, and now the evidence was in.

Today, I know of many wonderful, evangelical, growing churches that do not use any form of an altar call or public invitation. I also know many young pastors who have traveled the same road I have and come to similar conclusions. I find that, among evangelicals working for reformation, the abuse of the public invitation is a significant factor for many of them. (Capital Hill Baptist in D.C., College Park Baptist in Indianapolis and Heritage Baptist in Owensboro, Kentucky are three excellent examples of all these trends.)

With my seminary church history classes under Dr. Timothy George, I learned the actual history of the public invitation. Its controversial importation into evangelicalism by way of Finney’s new measures and the unsuccessful opposition of the Presbyterians whom Finney used to gain credibility. The use of the invitation by D.L. Moody, giving it broad acceptance in evangelicalism, silencing the objections of Spurgeon. The common use of the altar call in the emotion-laden meetings of the Second Great Awakening in the South and the West. Its acceptance and amplification by Pentecostals. Its refinement and acceptance into the denominational establishment by Southern Baptists like L.R. Scarborough. Its final perfection under revivalists from Sunday to Graham. Under all these influences, the invitation system came part of the life-blood of evangelicalism. Eventually, invitationalism and conservative, Bible-believing Christianity became synonymous in many minds.

By the time I left seminary, I was a full fledged opponent of the public invitation. My resolve has never decreased since that time, and while I could still belong to a church where the invitation is practiced, I would consider it my duty to direct the elders of the church to consider the origin and fruit of the practice, and to further consider the utter lack of a Biblical endorsement or employment of the practice. I am grateful that my children have grown up in a church that says Christ offers the great invitation and that is all that needs to be said. I intend to use whatever means I have to point out the folly of its use and its corruption of evangelicalism.

Before I close, I feel it is important to note that my opposition to the invitation is probably not entirely objective. I don’t like pressure tactics. I loathe being targeted as a potential customer and subjected to sales tactics. (Don’t try to sell me anything.) I have never been more miserable than being in any meeting where either the teaching or the tactics endorsed the idea that people can be “lead” to do something by a person who knows the right method. I am sure my congregations have noted my lack of enthusiasm for adopting the requisition methods for getting people down the aisle. I frequently preach the impotence of aisle-walking to affect spiritual results. I often preach that people should get alone with God. I believe and practice the maxim that “the message IS the invitation” and nothing added to the message can rightly be called the invitation.

Is it because I am a spoiled brat only child who doesn’t like to be told what to do? Am I just enamored with my own objections and unable to see the obvious fact that God uses the invitation? Do I refuse to play because I am not good at the game? Am I pouting? Making a mountain out of a mole hill? Have I lost perspective on what really matters? Am I just another hyper-Calvinistic, missions-killing, evangelism-loathing Reformed, Spurgeon- wannabe?

Possibly. But what do the scriptures say? What did Jesus and the apostles do? For that, join me for part II.