"If heaven is our homeland, what else is the earth but a place of exile?" So John Calvin asked the question that still disturbs but for much good if we will ponder it awhile. This can also be said of James Davison Hunter's new book, To Change the  World, subtitled,  The Irony, Tragedy, & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World.

Hunter's book is disturbing but in a very productive way. Like Calvin's question, Davison's work will dishearten you but for your good and for God's glory. What is so disheartening about To Change the World? Well, Hunter, a Christian and first-rate sociologist, has given us a social history of the recent Western world that basically confirms what we have been sensing for some time - Christianity has lost its place of privilege in the West. But this is not what's so disheartening.  What's disheartening, as Hunter shows with a scholar's thoroughness, is that Christianity will not likely ever regain this place of privilege. In fact, Hunter is confident that all attempts to do so will likely fail and shouldn't be attempted in the first place. This does not mean that Hunter has no coherent vision for how to be Christian in a post-Christian world, but it does mean that Hunter is very down on grandiose agendas that use phrases like "reclaiming the culture," "transforming the world," or "building the kingdom." 

Hunter's book is arranged around three large essays, as he calls them. Essay I spends seven chapters proving that the traditional ways Christians think about cultural change don't work and won't work even with tinkering. Hunter makes a strong case here that the individual "worldview" approach to cultural change doesn't work. It is often assumed that if we can build into a young mind a thoroughly Christian worldview we will have created an effective culture-changer. Hunter thoroughly disproves this. A Christian worldview benefits the faithfulness of the Christian, but has little impact on changing the world. Here is a poignant summary from chapter 6, "The Cultural Economy of American Christianity": "...the main reason why Christian believers today (from various communities) have not had the influence in the culture to which they aspired is not that they don't believe enough, or try hard enough, or care enough, or think Christianly enough, or have the right worldview, but rather because they have been absent from the arenas in which the greatest influence in the culture is exerted." Those arenas are the arenas of the elite. Hunter is not optimistic that a sufficient number of Christians will ever reach those arenas, and he is concerned of the trouble we would cause if we did. This leads to his second essay.

Essay II is titled, "Rethinking Power." In the seven chapters of this essay, Hunter wields a double-edged sword against both Christian conservatives (politically conservative not necessarily theologically conservative) and Christian progressives (again, politically not theologically). Hunter works to show that both groups in recent decades have constructed a Christianity that exists primarily to fight against political problems. Both left and right, says Hunter, tend to cast Christian mission in terms of winning cultural skirmishes through elections and policy. Re-casting Christianity this way makes the winning of earthly seats of power the dominant narrative of Christian pilgrimage in the modern world. In the modern West the Christian is no longer on pilgrimage to heaven's glory but to a better political situation here on earth.  Those who bar the way - opponents on the left or right - are then increasingly viewed with animosity and contempt. Even worse, earthly life has become something of the Christian's true home. This raises the prospect of entrenched idolatries. Can someone who is dissatisfied with being an exile on the earth have much of a heart for Christ who has gone before us into the heavenlies?

In his third and final essay of the book, Hunter works out an answer to this question: "How can one be authentically Christian in circumstances that, by their very nature, undermine the credibility of faith and coherence of faith?" This is the problem for the Christian living in the modern world. Old structures, that at least appeared Christianized, generously lent a credibility and coherence to faith (and, we may say, often allowed for a falsifying of true faith). These structures are fast eroding away shows Hunter. As they erode Christians have reacted in various ways. The three different postures Hunter chronicles are (1) the "Defensive Against" posture - here the Christian is a fighter seeing secularization as the main problem; (2) the "Relevant To" posture - here the Christian is a lover seeing the old traditional ways of the Church as the main problem; (3) the "Purity From" posture - here the Christian is a bystander seeing the world to be a declining mess that needs calm bystanders to rescue those who can be rescued. Hunter finds some good in all these postures but none of them sufficient in themselves to the testimony of scripture. It is then in this last section that Hunter explicitly becomes a theologian and makes a case for what he calls "Faithful Presence Within." 

In this last section of the book Hunter works out the proposal "that Christians are called to relate to the world within a dialectic of affirmation and antithesis." Hunter draws on much scripture in this section and by and large makes a sound theological proposal. It is not innovative, for it is derived from scripture, but it may be fresh to those who have been stuck in a posture toward culture that was out of balance when considered in light of God's Word. Let me prepare to close with a nice encapsulation of Hunter's proposal from Essay III of To Change the World:

"Indeed, insofar as Christians acknowledge the rule of God in all aspects of their lives [sacred and secular], their engagement with the world proclaims the shalom to come. Such work may not bring about the kingdom, but it is an embodiment of the values of the coming kingdom and is, thus, a foretaste of the coming kingdom. Even while believers wait for their salvation, the net effect of such work will be a contribution not only to the good of the Christian community but to the flourishing of all."

"Let me finally stress that any good that is generated by Christians is only the net effect of caring for something more than the good created. If there are benevolent consequences of our engagement with the world, in other words, it is precisely because it is not rooted in a desire to change the world for the better but rather because it is an expression of a desire to honor the Creator of all goodness, beauty, and truth, a manifestation of our loving obedience to God, and a fulfilment of God's command to love our neighbor."

I have now dipped into two excellent works on Christianity and Culture. One by David VanDrunen (ordained OPC minister and seminary professor) and one by Dr. Hunter (sociology prof at Univ. of Virginia). If you are interested in going further, of course, read the books. I also have a helpful review of both books in one article by Terry Eastland of The Weekly Standard. Just ask and I will e-mail it over.

Instead of finishing up those thoughts on Christianity and culture this week I'd like to tack on a critical addendum to last Sunday's sermon. Next week, Lord willing, I will summarize James Davison Hunter's important book, To Change the World. But for today let me revisit the call to obedience we heard last week. In particular, I would like to re-double my efforts to show you that grace alone motivates God-glorifying obedience to the challenge we heard in Hebrews 5:11-14. 

Last Lord's Day we tip-toed our way out along the edge of a theological precipice. We heard a strong challenge from Christ's apostle to keep moving, to shake off sluggishness, to make every effort to grow up in our faith. It was a critical admonition. The apostle takes it even a step further this Sunday, showing us that if we sit down in sloth we sit down in danger. But there is another danger here and in fact everywhere we find such "calls to action" in scripture. The danger is not in the scripture itself, it is in us. When we are poked and prodded by Christ (through his apostles and prophets) to obey, it is easy to rise up and run without looking to Christ for the reason we run and for the strength to run. It is easy to run fast, looking down at our feet and the amount of ground we're covering rather than up to Christ. It is easier to take joy from having taken some kind of action than it is to take joy from Christ, our Redeemer. In short, it is easy to obey for own sake instead of for Christ's sake.  And obedience merely for our own sake is no real obedience at all and it soon fizzles again into sloth at best or resentment at worst. 

The entire third point of Sunday's sermon was offered to guard against this. The grace of Christ's purchasing with his blood our entrance into "the mysteries of God" (1 Cor. 4:1) is the reason and the strength for our obedience to grow up in those mysteries which are now revealed to the sons of God. To underscore what such "grace-based" or "gospel-based" obedience looks like I now turn the remainder of this letter over to the long dead but still fruitful, Ralph Erskine (1685-1752), where he discusses the difference between legal obedience (self-concerned, flesh-based) and gospel obedience (Christ-concerned, Spirit given). It is older English, but well worth the effort:

"1. Gospel and legal mortification differ in their principles from which they proceed. Gospel mortification is from gospel principles, viz. the Spirit of God [Rom. 8. 13], ‘If ye through the Spirit mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live’; Faith in Christ [Acts 15. 9], ‘Purifying their hearts by faith’; The love of Christ constraining [2 Cor. 5. 14], ‘The love of Christ constraineth us.’ But legal mortification is from legal principles such as, from the applause and praise of men, as in the Pharisees; from pride of self-righteousness, as in Paul before his conversion; from the fear of hell; from a natural conscience; from the example of others; from some common motions of the Spirit; and many times from the power of sin itself, while one sin is set up to wrestle with another, as when sensuality and self-righteousness wrestle with one another. The man, perhaps, will not drink and swear. Why? Because he is setting up and establishing a righteousness of his own, whereby to obtain the favour of God here is but one sin wrestling with another.

2. They differ in their weapons with which they fight against sin. The gospel believer fights with grace’s weapons, namely, the blood of Christ, the word of God, the promises of the covenant, and the virtue of Christ’s death and cross [Gal. 6. 14] ‘God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of the Lord Jesus Christ, by whom [or, as it may be read, 'whereby,' viz. by the cross of Christ,] the world is crucified to me, and I to the world.’ But now the man under the law fights against sin by the promises and threatenings of the law; by its promises, saying, I will obtain life; and win to heaven, I hope, if I do so and so; by its threatenings, saying, I will go to hell and be damned, if I do not so and so. Sometimes he fights with the weapons of his own vows and resolutions, which are his strong tower, to which he runs and thinks himself safe.

3. They differ in the object of their mortification. They both, indeed, seek to mortify sin, but the legalist’s quarrel is more especially with the sins of his conversation, whereas the true believer should desire to fight as the Syrians got orders, that is, neither against great nor small, so much as against the King himself, even against original corruption. A body of sin and death troubles him more than any other sin in the world; ‘O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from this body of death?’ [Rom. 7. 24]. His great exercise is to have the seed of the woman to bruise this head of the serpent.

4. They differ in the reasons of the contest. The believer, whom grace teaches to deny all ungodliness, he fights against sin because it dishonours God, opposes Christ, grieves the Spirit, and separates between his Lord and him; but the legalist fights against sin, because it breaks his peace, and troubles his conscience, and hurts him, by bringing wrath and judgment on him. As children will not play in the dust, not because it sullies their clothes, but flies into their eyes, and hurts them, so the legalist will not meddle with sin, not because it sullies the perfections of God, and defiles their souls, but only because it hurts them. I deny not, but there is too much of this legal temper even amongst the godly.

5. They differ in their motives and ends. The believer will not serve sin, because he is alive to God, and dead to sin [Rom. 6. 6]. The legalist forsakes sin, not because he is alive, but that he may live. The believer mortifies sin, because God loves him; but the legalist, that God may love him. The believer mortifies, because God is pacified towards him; the legalist mortifies, that he may pacify God by his mortification. He may go a great length, but it is still that he may have whereof to glory, making his own doing all the foundation of his hope and comfort.

6. They differ in the nature of their mortification. The legalist does not oppose sin violently, seeking the utter destruction of it. If he can get sin put down, he does not seek it to be thrust out; but the believer, having a nature and principle contrary to sin, he seeks not only to have it weakened, but extirpated. The quarrel is irreconcilable; no terms of accommodation or agreement; no league with sin is allowed, as it is with hypocrites.

7. They differ in the extent of the warfare, not only objectively, the believer hating every false way; but also subjectively, all the faculties of the believer’s soul, the whole regenerate part being against sin. It is not so with the hypocrite or legalist; for as he spares some sin or other, so his opposition to sin is only seated in his conscience; his light and conscience oppose such a thing, while his heart approves of it. There is an extent also as to time; the legalist’s opposition to sin is of a short duration, but in the believer it is to the end; grace and corruption still opposing one another.

8. They differ in the success. There is no believer, but as he fights against sin, so first or last he prevails, though not always to his discerning; and though he lose many battles, yet he gains the war. But the legalist, for all the work he makes, yet he never truly comes speed; though he cut off some actual sin, yet the corrupt nature is never changed; he never gets a new heart; the iron sinew in his neck, which opposes God, is never broken; and when he gets one sin mortified, sometimes another and more dangerous sin lifts up the head. Hence all the sins and pollutions that ever the Pharisees forsook, and all the good duties that ever they performed, made them but more proud, and strengthened their unbelieving prejudices against Christ, which was the greater and more dangerous sin.