Universalism's Forms and Varieties

http://www.patheos.com/community/philosophicalfragments/2011/03/18/framework-for-understanding-the-rob-bell-controversy/
A Framework for Understanding the Rob Bell Controversy
By Timothy Dalrymple, March 18, 2011 6:18 pm

It’s taking me longer than I had hoped to write my own review of the famously hip Rob Bell’s famously controversial new book, Love Wins, but in the meantime I wanted to offer what I hope is a helpful framework for understanding some of the issues at hand. I happen to believe that only 10-20% of the controversy is really about universalism. The greater part of the controversy is about the questions behind the questions — progressive accommodation to contemporary culture versus conservatives holding-fast to inherited theological tradition, selective reinterpretation of the Christian message versus a profession of the whole counsel of scripture regardless of its offensiveness to modern ears, etc; the other, central theological issues Bell reformulates — the character of God, the nature of the person and work of Christ, and the means of salvation; and the way in which Bell thoroughly and repeatedly casts doubt on, caricatures, and condemns what has been the traditional teaching of the western churches for many centuries now.

Bell is to be complimented and thanked for some things, and criticized for others. But more on that anon.

For now, it strikes me that people are wrestling with the question, “Is Rob Bell a universalist?” in part because the terms have not been sufficiently clear. Some say Bell is clearly not a universalist because he says that God will not forcibly save everyone, and some may continue to reject God even in the afterlife. Some say Bell clearly is a universalist because he strongly implies that God’s loving pursuit of every individual — in the present life and in the life to come — must eventually prevail. Still others say that Bell should properly be called a Christian universalist or an evangelical universalist, because he believes that all (can?) (will?) be saved but through the intermediation of Christ.

The most philosophical nuance I’ve seen in the online discussion so far has been Scot McKnight’s post on the variety of universalisms, but even this is confusing because these are not all positions on the same axis. Let me explain. The colors red, yellow and blue are all at different points on the electromagnetic spectrum. So I can make a list — blue, yellow, and red — in which all three elements in the list are differentiated along one axis (in this case the axis of wavelength). But if I create another list that runs thus — blue, yellow, red, red apples, red cherries — then I have created a a typology with two axes (colors or wavelengths, and types of fruit). If I were making a graph, I could not just create a one-dimensional line, and locate the colors at different points along the line; I would have to create a two-dimensional grid, with colors along one axis and kinds of fruit along another. If I added another axis, I would have to create a three-dimensional cubic graph, and so on.

I hope this is clear so far. If a child asked me to hand her a kind of paint, and I said, “Do you want blue, yellow, red, or red apples?” (not apple-red but actual red apples), the child would look at me curiously, because I would have just confused different categories. Well, I find a similar confusion running through some of these conversations about universalism. There are actually several different axes at play here.

1. The SOTERIOLOGICAL axis: What is the mechanism of salvation? Is it known and confessed faith in Christ (exclusivist) — or might a person be saved by a kind of pseudo-faith even if he or she does not know or confess that this is through Christ (inclusivist) — or can a person be saved by a variety of religions through their own mechanisms (call this soteriological relativism)?

What becomes clear at this point is that inclusivism and universalism are not on the same axis. One is a statement about how people are saved, and the other about how many are saved. To this point, one would have to say that Rob Bell is an inclusivist. He believes that people of all religious tribes and none, whether or not they confess Christ or understand Christ or have ever heard of Christ, can be saved by the redemption God made available through Christ. While this is not traditional Christian doctrine, and has not been evangelical doctrine, it is not terribly heretical either. The Roman Catholic Church has held to a doctrine of inclusivism ever since Vatican II.

(It’s worth noting that there are sub-distinctions in each of these. Some have begun to call exclusivism by a different name, particularism, and distinguish different varieties of particularism. So, for instance, one could be an “agnostic particularist” if one believes that those who never had the opportunity to respond to the gospel in their lives on earth will have an opportunity to respond postmortem. Traditional particularists believe that there is no such postmortem opportunity, but others have argued that God knows how each person would respond if given the opportunity, and saves those who would have responded in faith. My point is not to advocate one of these, but to say that there is a whole body of philosophical literature on this, and many options within the options. See Collin Hansen’s post here for some other varieties.)

2. The EXTENSION axis: How far does God’s grace reach in effective redemption? Are all people ultimately saved (universalism) — are most people ultimately saved (majoritarian) — or are the saved a relative minority (minoritarian)?

A universalist can be an inclusivist (all people are saved through Christ) or a soteriological relativist (all people are saved through various means). And an inclusivist can believe that all, most, or still a relative minority are saved through Christ). Rob Bell clearly rejects the minoritarian view. He calls it “tragic” and “crushing” and “unbearable.” He also presents the minoritarian view as the mainstream teaching of the church for centuries. In the infamous promotional video, Bell evokes an exclusivist minoritarian view and suggests that such a God could not be good, and that such teachings have led many to reject Christianity as “an endless list of inconsistencies and absurdities.”

So where does Bell stand on the extension axis? It’s not entirely clear. The question is whether he is a majoritarian or a universalist. He clearly states that some people will presumably reject God in the afterlife just as they did in this life. But will they do so ultimately, forever? He says that God would not force people into redemption, because God respects our freedom to choose. But if God has an eternity to reach out to them, will everyone eventually surrender to the relentless, salvific pursuit of God? The FAQ made available by Bell’s church, Mars Hill Bible Church, is clearer than Bell himself has been. It says: Rob is not saying that “all will be saved, regardless of faith” — but he is saying that “all could be saved,” since “the invitation to God’s grace may extend into the next life.”

There are other possible refinements. A person could be an actual universalist or a potential universalist, for instance, believing that all people definitely will be saved (actual universalism) or that all people may well be saved (potential universalism).

3. This brings us to a third axis, the FATE OF THE REJECTORS: What happens to those who reject God? Will they be tormented eternally in hell, decisively separated from God (for lack of a better word here, traditionalist) — will they be destroyed (annihilationist?) — or will they have an eternity in which to repent (eternalist)?

If you’re a universalist, you cannot be an annihilationist or a traditionalist, unless you believe that none reject God. But an inclusivist could be any one of these three, and an exclusivist could be a traditionalist or an annihilationist. Some Christians over the years have chosen annihilationism, in the view that it would be more merciful for God simply to destroy the unrepentant than to consign them to eternal suffering. Bell is clearly an eternalist, who holds open the possibility that hell will eventually be shut because all people will ultimately repent and take refuge in God’s mercy.

In my reading, Bell is certainly an inclusivist and an eternalist. The question comes on the extension axis: I would suggest that Bell is both a majoritarian and a potential universalist. In some places he seems to prescind from judgment on whether all will finally be saved — who can say, after all, what people will freely choose? In other places he suggests that God would not be fully great, or love would not fully “win,” unless all people are eventually redeemed. So this, I think, is where one should press for clarity from Bell.

Again, ultimately, the disagreements and differences run far deeper than these questions. But these are exceedingly important questions nonetheless, and evangelicalism is coming to terms with the fact that different people who call themselves evangelical are passionately committed to different answers to these questions. I hope that the above offers some sort of conceptual framework that might be helpful.

UPDATE: Added the note above regarding different forms of particularism/exclusivism.

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I say this with tongue-in-cheek as I was reminded by Tim's review of my Systematic Theology classes and the endless permutations that a doctrine could be parsed and re-parsed. But I did find Tim's article helpful in elucidating all the many types of universalism that Christians are speaking back-and-forth with one another currently.

 

I also liked Tim's brief mention of all the jumble of other issues that have arisen as a result of Rob Bell's Love Wins book which gave us a mish-mash of everything in its scatter-gun approach to theology.  But rather than find fault with it, let us see Bell's main message for what it is - a very clear restatement of God's love for us and our responsibility to respond  to God's love through Jesus, his Son and our Savior.

 

Message-wise, this and other blogs will do the hard work of sorting out the rest of postmodernity's mish-mash of doctrines, one by one, patiently, over the years ahead, as statements and positions become clearer and clearer in our globally transitioning world or pluralistic cultures, religions and socieities. In the meantime, evangelicalism must transition, and with it, its doctrines, dogmas, litergies, and hermenuetic. Emergent Christianity may have some of the answers or it may not, but it is that in-between land of unknowing that is being crossed in the land of the living. It is messy, it can be dissettling, it can be confusing. Through it all we must learn to listen to each other's griefs and complaints and patiently love, not label, brethren who differ.

 
skinhead

The Many forms of Hell

A previous article written by the evangelic pastor Tim Keller, "Preaching Hell in a Tolerant Age," was posted here not many days ago. Within it I found a section that states how to preach hell to postmoderns, making me think that even as evangelics are positive about their beliefs of hell (as well as their beliefs about what others should believe about hell!) so emergent Christians must likewise be clear in our postmodern approach to this same subject. For I suspect that emergents tend to out-think or out-position ourselves into some contrary form of essegetical (subjectively-imposed) hermeneutic that would leave off the biblical themes of "sin, justice, and hell" when over-preaching on the subject of God's great love and grace to mankind (mostly in response to the evangelic "Calvinization" of the good news of Jesus which is otherwise known as the gospel of Jesus).

And so, in comparison to Timothy Keller's positional treatment of the reality of hell for evangelicals and for postmoderns alike, I came across the emergent-like statements of Ben Witherington's statement on hell, it's reality and its consequences. And with the exception of his thin mentioning of a Protestant-like state of purgatory, I found his comments reinforcing of Keller's earlier description while at the same time focusing on Rob Bell's more postmodernistic explanations of libertarian free will; the consequences of our choices now and in the future; and the constant reality of God's just-love for mankind seeking to rid creation of the consequences of sin, evil, and hell through the personage of his divine Son, our Savior, Jesus.

And yet, this speaks not of universalism but of God's universal love to sinful mankind and His universal redemption extended to all. In the process Witherington brings up the issue of annihilation, or more exactly, the various stages of annihilation within the eternal plan as versus Keller's more definitive, more rigorous view of indefinite, limitless punishment and death that occurs within hell. Either position is well within the realms of evangelicalism and if I were to chose, I'd lean towards some form of annihilation as it seems more natural to me that death apart from God simply "thins us out" in all of our creative makeups physically, socially, spiritually, existentially until there is simply nothing left. And when hell is cast into the Lake of Fire with eternal finality I would think that the state of annihilation has either begun or is then completed. But this is my conjecture and not found anywhere in the bible except through inference (for further reference go here - "The Origin of Sin, Hell and Universalism").

For me hell is very real, very final, and bereft of any second chances. Here we will find that as in life, so in death, every level of our being will be consumed by God's absence; a place where we are finally loosed from our Creator God, who would anchor us within his sheltering havens of purposeful existence. Where his reflected image becomes a shadow that stretches further and further into the darkest corners and furthest voids of eternal darkness. Where God's holy breath no longer infills our souls, our lungs, our spirits as we expire from the absence of his "holy-other" presence. Where we lose any remaining creative purposes and sustenance having set so flinty a course of willful abandonment and rejection to God's mercy and love, the very creative forces that would give us purpose and sustenance. A place where is found loneliness, austerity, torment, grief, remorseful tears - not repentant tears - and yes, even a spiritually black darkness abject of the Light of the world which is very God himself.

In hell is found death in all of its completeness, its agonies, its lostness, its seared hearts and opposition to the Created Will of the worlds and the souls of mankind. Here reigns only sin, only death, only darkness. Well has it been said by Dante, "Abandon all hope ye who would enter." Yeah verily, every particle of our created being would fly away from life to death, where, in the mystery of sin is found the mystery of our stubborn will that would continue to reject God. That refuses to be consumed by God's life-giving, holy fires that can renew our life in created purpose and infilling. Seeking instead consumption within our own hellish fires that give death its own miserable finality.

Verily this is a mystery and one to which God knows all too well. Who fearfully has set Himself as a wall and barrier to that eternally hungry pit. Who placed Himself into the maws of hell as atonement and propitiation, lamb and sacrifice, justifier and redeemer, in our place and for our salvation. In-and-by His very self has He prevented so awful a future for mankind, who is our life and soul-keeper, our Lord and Shepherd, the God of mercy, love and justice. Fear Him, heed Him, seek Him, loose Him not from thy very soul. He is thy very breath and life, light and vine, water and bread. To Thee we give praise and humble worship. Amen.

skinhead

April 1, 2011

(revisited March 20, 2012)

Please also refer to another related article I've written on this subject entitled  "LOST in Purgatory? Parts 1 & 2"

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The Bible and Culture: A One-Stop Shop for All Things Biblical and Christian

http://www.patheos.com/community/bibleandculture/2011/03/16/hell-no/

Hell? No??
March 16, 2011 by Ben Witherington

The subject of Hell has suddenly become front burner flame-on hot since little bits of news have been leaking out about Rob Bell’s new book Love Wins. Patheos is just beginning what will be an extended conversation on the book and the issues it raises, in what it hopes will be a charitable and constructive conversation. See here.

I have not read the book yet, but I do know the testimony of the President of Fuller Seminary, Richard Mouw, who says the book is all about Jesus and within the bounds of what could be called generous orthodoxy as opposed to stingy orthodoxy. I will write a full review when Harper sends me my copy of it, but in the meantime, let’s address the basic questions -

Does the NT teach that 1) there is a Hell, and 2) some folks are going there (not necessarily in a handbasket), and 3) they will experience eternal torment once there?

I have put the matter in three parts, because you could answer questions 1) and 2) with an emphatic yes, and in fact say no to 3). Indeed, there is a time-honored tradition of interpreting the NT to say that what happens to the damned is that they are consumed in Hell or Gehenna or the Lake of Fire — pick your favorite moniker — but then, since they are consumed, there is no eternal torment. Their suffering does not go on and on forever. And one of the possible implications of interpreting the NT this way is that when we finally get to the new heaven and new earth, only believers in Christ are left standing on the premises. Now this is certainly not universalism in the typical modern sense of the term; it’s not an “all dogs go to heaven” kind of universalism, or a Unitarian kind of universalism. This is, instead, the view that except for those who willfully and knowingly refuse to have any part in Christ and his kingdom, ‘Love Wins’.

I had a student come up to me this week who thought he had resolved the above conundrum and said we need not choose between anihilationism and eternal torment because for the person in question, the torment is forever, if by forever we mean always until he or she ceases to exist. This is an interesting spin on the old question, and worth considering especially when you actually do your homework on the Hebrew word ‘olam’ or the Greek equivalent ‘aeon’.

‘Olam’ has been loosely translated ‘forever’ but the problem with this translation, according to my esteemed colleague Bill Arnold in his 1 Samuel commentary, is twofold: 1) in the phrase berit olam (loosely forever covenant or eternal covenant) it becomes clear that olam actually means a covenant of a definitely long but unspecified duration. In other words, it doesn’t exactly seem to be a synonym for our [English] word ‘eternal’ which means infinitely going on into the future. 2) notice that we have the phrase ‘olam wu olam’ in the OT, loosely translated ‘forever and ever’. Now the phrase ‘wu olam’ is totally unnecessary if in fact ‘olam’ by itself means ‘forever’. In that case, the additional phrase is redundant. And in fact we have the same issue with the word ‘aeon’ in Greek which could be rendered ‘forever’ but it could refer to a specific period of time— an age or aeon. And sure enough we have this same redundancy with a similar Greek phrase. For example in Heb. 13.21 (in some mss.) we have the phrase ‘unto the aeon of aeons’. Why exactly would we need the ‘of aeons’ phrase at all, if ‘aeon’ itself means forever in the modern sense? Inquiring minds want to know.

But what exactly does the Bible say about Hell?

Let’s start with some basic facts. Fact One— the Old Testament says little or nothing about Hell. What it does talk about is Sheol, the land of the dead, which in Greco-Roman thinking has been called Hades. For example, in 1 Sam 28 we hear about Samuel’s shade or spirit being called up from Sheol to be consulted by the medium of Endor. Samuel is none too pleased about the summons, but he is not depicted as having been in either heaven or hell. He is simply in the land of the dead. This concept of Sheol continued on well into the New Testament era, and may well represent what Paul believes about where people have gone who have died, but who are not in Christ. For Christians, of course, Paul says “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord” (2 Cor. 5), but what about everyone else?

In 1 Cor. 15, Paul says quite literally that Jesus is raised on Easter “from out of the dead ones”, not merely raised from death, though that is true, but raised from out of the realm of dead persons. This suggests that the dead are still out there, and have not yet been consigned to Hell.

Indeed, traditionally the Christian idea was that no one is consigned to Hell until after the Final Judgment — which, in case you’re wondering, has not yet taken place! Paul is perfectly clear that the Final Judgment comes after Jesus returns, and there is the bema seat judgment of Christ (again 2 Cor. 5) before which we all must appear to give an account of the deeds we have done in the body. (Yes, even Christians are accountable for such things). Thereafter, it would appear, we are assigned to our eternal destinations.

Or consider Revelation 20. Though this is a highly metaphorical and apocalyptic text, it nonetheless suggests the following sequence: 1) the return of Christ; 2) the temporary confinement of Satan; 3) the resurrection of those who are in Christ who will rule with Christ during the millennium; 4) the resurrection from the dead of those not in Christ at the end of the millennium; 5) Satan released, and 6) a final hubbub which leads to Jesus’ judgment on Satan and the nations who are sent packing off to the Lake of Fire, once and for all. So 7) the new heaven and new earth does not emerge until after Final Judgment has been done on the earth. And when John says “and there was no more sea” this is metaphorical but refers to there was no more chaos waters, no more Evil in the universe. This may suggest that Hell is not forever and ever. Amen. But there is other evidence, which can be read in different ways.

Let’s be clear that the answer to the first question — Is there a Hell to be found in the New Testament — is certainly yes. And Jesus is perhaps the one most clear about this. He calls it Gehenna, and he says it’s rather like the stinky garbage dump in the Hinnom Valley south of the City of David, and like a garbage dump its where the worm does not die and the fire never goes out. And there are people expected by Jesus to go there, as the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus shows in Lk 16. Granted, this is a parable, an extended metaphor, but it is surely referential, and it indicates the rich man is in an unpleasant place and there is no remedy. There is an unalterable divide between the bosom of Abraham and the place where the rich man currently resides in the afterlife. The parable teaches that how we live in this life has consequences for where we end up in the afterlife, and this must be taken seriously.

A good presentation on the implications of this is C.S. Lewis’ famous work – The Great Divorce.

So far we have seen that the rather clear answer to the question is there a Hell and are some people going there is— yes, and yes. But consider for a moment the further implication of that parable in Luke 16. It suggests that Abraham, and poor Lazarus did not go to Hell, and yet neither one of them believed in Jesus as Lord and Savior.

Indeed belief in Jesus as the risen Lord doesn’t even arise amongst Jesus’ followers until Easter and thereafter. Do we really want to say that nobody went to heaven before Jesus died and rose again? That would be pretty bold theology, and it is a theology contradicted by OT stories (Enoch and Elijah taken up into the presence of God), and Jesus’ afterlife parable in Lk. 16. And then of course there is the issue of whether people are consigned to Hell because they have never heard of the existence of Jesus. The answer to this latter question is no.

The basis for judgment on anyone is the sins they actually have commited, not something they never knew. Indeed, Luke and Acts indicate that God has mercy and forgiveness on even Jesus’ executioners “because they know not what they do”. Are we really going to argue that when Jesus asked God to forgive his executioners, God turned him down? I don’t think so. It would seem then that there is a place for considering the possibility that there is a wideness in God’s mercy, greater than some might think. Romans 1.18-32, which is not about final judgment but a present temporal judgment suggests that God’s existence and power is evident to all in creation, and so no one is ever condemned for not knowing God at all. They are condemned for rejecting the light they have received, refusing to recognize the evidence of God and his power which is everywhere. So the answer to the ‘what about the lost person in some obscure place where the internet and Gospel has not penetrated’ is that each will be judged on the basis of what they have done with the light/revelation which they have received from God.

If you do study the life and teaching of Gandhi who certainly did know about Jesus and his teachings you will discover that Gandhi didn’t really have much of a problem with the teaching of Jesus — he had a problem with the church. There are a lot of people out there like that these days. More importantly, I don’t think anyone is in the position to say that Gandhi is burning in Hell and we know this with absolute certainty (an issue raised by Rob Bell’s advance video for the book). That is to presume to know the final destiny of someone and where their heart was when they died, and frankly no one has such knowledge except God! We can talk about the criteria the NT establishes for salvation in Christ, but we can’t talk about whether this or that individual definitely embraced these truths before he or she died since we are not omniscient. It is God who looks upon the heart. These facts should cause all censorious Christians to take a chill pill when it comes to definitively consigning someone, especially some living person, to outer darkness, especially since ‘where there is life, there is hope’.

What about texts which suggest that Hell is a place of eternal torment? Yes, there are such texts, and they can be interpreted that way. Perhaps the most famous of these texts is 2 Thess 1.5-10 (ESV) which should be quoted in full:

⁵ This is evidence of the righteous judgment of God, that you may be considered worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are also suffering— ⁶ since indeed God considers it just to repay with affliction those who afflict you, ⁷ and to grant relief to you who are afflicted as well as to us, when the Lord Jesus is revealed from heaven with his mighty angels ⁸ in flaming fire, inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God and on those who do not obey the gospel of our Lord Jesus. ⁹ They will suffer the punishment of eternal (aeonion) destruction, away from^[b] the presence of the Lord and from the glory of his might, ¹⁰ when he comes on that day to be glorified in his saints, and to be marveled at among all who have believed, because our testimony to you was believed. ¹¹ To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, ¹² so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. (note - there is that word aeon, in this case aeonion in vs. 9, and in the NIV translated ‘eternal’, as above.)

Notice several things about this text:

1) the point at which people are punished with everlasting destruction and shut out from the Lord’s presence is “on the day when he comes”. Not before the return of Christ, but on the day when he returns. This certainly suggests that while lots of people are in the land of the dead just now, none of them are yet in Hell. That comes after the final judgment of Jesus. [this could also be construed to be a purgatorial position, but not necessarily, per Witherington, who is postulating the SHEOL position of the OT/NT meaning of the grave and of death  - res]

2) what are we to make of the phrase “eternal destruction”. This has usually been interpreted to mean eternal torment. But note the word destruction. The phrase seems almost an oxymoron — how can anything be eternally destroyed? If it is destroyed, isn’t it done with, over, gone? I agree that this phrase might be interpreted to refer to eternal torment, but this is not perfectly clear. Eternal torment may be the implication of Jesus’ parable of the weeds which ends by saying “They will be thrown into a blazing furnace where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Mt. 13.43) but Jesus does not say for how long. The fact that the fire doesn’t go out in Gehenna does not tell us how long a particular person in Gehenna suffers from it. 2 Pet. 3.7, similarly talks about the judgment and destruction of the ungodly but it also shortly after this talks about the destruction of the old heavens and old earth, and the author seems to imply that once something is destroyed it is gone. In this case it is replaced by a new heaven and a new earth.

What are the implications of all this? I don’t think we can debate that the NT says there is a place we today call Hell, and that some people will end up there, because of their own choices and wickedness. Whether they will experience eternal torment is more debatable. My advice however is that we abstain from pronouncing a final judgment on any human soul; that is Jesus’ job at the final judgment. We simply don’t know the outcome of many who are not followers of Christ now.

And here is a final reason for caution — Romans 11 clearly says that when the Redeemer comes forth from Zion he will turn away the impiety of Jacob — that is, says Paul, when Jesus comes back and the dead are raised, “all Israel will be saved”, which at least means a lot of Jews being saved who currently do not believe in Jesus. Perhaps what Paul means about the second coming in Phil. 2.5-11 is that there will come a day when all will recognize Jesus as the Christ and as Lord, at the eschaton, even though many of them don’t do that now. But there is a difference between recognizing and embracing the truth about Jesus. The demons recognize the truth about Jesus, but it does not transform them.

What I am more sure of than ever, is that there is no salvation outside of Jesus Christ, and that in the end ‘every knee will bow and ever knee confess’ even those humans or demons who want to have nothing to do with Jesus thereafter. Salvation in the end is not just a matter of being forced to recognize the truth — it’s about positively embracing and trusting that truth. And there are apparently some who will never ever do that. To them God says “if you insist, have it your way”. Hell is the place you experience the absence of the presence of God for as long as you continue to exist. Whether there is a time when Hell will cease to exist, like the crystal sea of Revelation, equally orthodox persons can debate. Annihilation or destruction of Satan, Hell and its inhabitants is a possible interpretation of the eschatological endgame, but it is also possible Hell will go on ‘olam wu olam wu olam‘. If the former is true, then the last persons standing are all followers of Christ according to Revelation. Revelation 21.8 seems pretty clear — “But as for the cowardly, the faithless…[etc.], their place will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulphur, which is the second death”. Even more telling is the statement in Rev 22.15 which states that after the new heaven has landed on the new earth and the new Jerusalem has been set up, “outside are the dogs and sorcerers and fornicators and murderers and idolaters, and everyone who loves and practices falsehood.” It would appear from these last two text, that Hell still has a future, even after the new heaven and new earth event shows up. What this suggests is that love, even divine love, does not always win with everyone, not even in the end, and it breaks the heart of God as it should break ours.

In Dante’s Divine Comedy Part One (Inferno), and in Jonathan Edward’s rightly famous sermon ‘Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God’ we find vivid depictions of Hell. Whether or not these lurid pictures amount to ‘over-egging the pudding’ as the British would say, it has never been the case that we should consign some idea to the dustbin of history simply because we find it troubling or even offensive. Indeed, it may well be the hard edges of the Gospel which we most need to hear in an age in which the unholy Trinity holds sway over our culture — the wrong sort of pluralism, the wrong sort of universalism, and relativism.

Hell in the New Testament is a constant reminder that there is a final accountability for our beliefs and behaviors in this life, whatever the particulars and temperature and durability of Hell may be. It is a reminder that this life is basically the time of decision, and the decisions we make now can indeed have eternal consequences in the afterlife. And, frankly, this is not bad news. It is a part of the Good News that in the end justice as well as mercy, righteousness as well as compassion, and holiness as well as love wins. Thanks be to God.

Ben Witherington, one of the world's leading evangelical scholars, is Amos Professor of New Testament at Asbury Theological Seminary. He is the author of over 40 books and is a frequent commentator on radio and television programs.

Case Study: Evangelic v. Liberal Church Growth

I found this article an interesting reflection about the importance of maintaining the personage of Christ as the central figure of a church's ministries and missions outreach. With Christ comes identity, fellowship, support, community. Christ must be the center to the Christian faith and not the principles which he embodies. To do the latter is to disembowel the Christian faith from its dynamic source.

Further, I would submit that if Christ is the center of any church's worship than they should be deemed as part of the church universal, the body and bride of Christ. This would include any and all flavors of Christianity including emergent Christian churches. The purpose of this blog here is to state the relevance and benefits of emergent Christianity as something to be explored, reviewed, adapted, assimilated, etc. If Christ is central to that emergent body's faith than they must be considered of Christ's body and blood.

Too often I have heard from well-meaning evangelical Christians friends and family that emergents are heretics, liberals, apostatizers from the faith; to these words and labels has also come a feeling of fear, suspicion, religious resolve to protect the faith, and feelings of being threatened by something unlike the conventional, traditional religion these congregants have for so long experienced. And yet, if a body of believers hold Christ central to their faith while exploring non-traditional concepts of truth, love and service, than I would think we should give that body of believers our prayers and our fellowship, our solidarity and help.

It is my further hope, that as evangelicalism is forced to respond to globalism, pluralism, and the reduction of Western civilization that we discover that the emergent Christianity once so vilified and feared actually was a forerunner to the globalization, assimilation and postmodern acceptance of a new and more relevant orthodox faith. One that has its own a-political "Jesus culture"; one that has expanded its cultural forms enough to have separated from itself all forms of nationalism, all forms of cultural associated with "western-based religion"; that has uniquely assimilated itself into each region of the world and into every local human institution and community. Rather than fearing emergent Christianity evangelicals should be exploring with their brethren the very same ideals and burdens.

Moreover, I would urge emergent Christians to not be so hasty in writing off our evangelical brethren, but to bear them up, suffer through their thrashings and suspicions, learn to moderate and teach, to show how long-held orthodox doctrines and beliefs may be acceptably updated (or abandoned) in light of the new globalization occurring. To not be so hasty to consider our brethren religiously-stymied by traditions and practices, nor label them as Pharisees and Sadducee's who have lost their soul. No, be patient and practice the love you seek and wish to practice through Christ. Enlightenment comes but slowly to all, and let history and fellowship be our guides and teachers.

skinhead

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HTTP://WWW.BOOKSANDCULTURE.COM/ARTICLES/WEBEXCLUSIVES/2011/FEBRUARY/SUTTON021111.HTML


MATTHEW A. SUTTON
Evangelical vs. Liberal
A report from the Pacific Northwest.
February 2011

A few years ago I moved to the inland Pacific Northwest to take a position at Washington State University in Pullman. The university is located in a rich agricultural region known as the Palouse, which it shares with the nearby town of Moscow, Idaho, home of the University of Idaho. It did not take long for me to realize that something curious was happening in the area. New friends and colleagues warned me that the fancy French restaurant in downtown Moscow was run by members of a powerful "fundamentalist" sect. I was also admonished to avoid a particular coffee shop, also run by these religious fanatics. I was even more surprised to learn that the coffee shop housed a cigar lounge. A "fundamentalist" cigar lounge? (It has since been shut down by the passage of an anti-smoking ordinance).

My interest was piqued. Who were these dangerous fundamentalists who smoked cigars, indulged in French cuisine, and who were apparently determined to take over downtown Moscow? They were members of a local church affiliated with the Confederation of Reformed Evangelical Churches, a small movement steeped in the classical reformed tradition. Like most evangelicals across the nation, they have taken stands against gay marriage and against female ordination. But unlike many other conservatives, they place significant emphasis on cultivating the life of the mind and on rigorous intellectual debate. To that end they have established a small college, also located (of course) on prime real-estate at the center of downtown Moscow.

A clash of Christian cultures has been brewing ever since. Liberal Protestants and their allies are facing off against the aggressive, entrepreneurial, community-oriented conservatives in the area. What is surprising is that in this tie-dye drenched, hippie-loving university town, best known for its thriving farmers market, co-op grocery store, and natural beauty, the conservatives are winning. And apparently Moscow is not an exception in the Pacific Northwest.

James Wellman's fascinating Evangelical vs. Liberal: The Clash of Christian Cultures in the Pacific Northwest compares and contrasts evangelical and liberal Protestant (or mainline) churches along the Washington and Oregon coasts. Wellamn's study was driven in part by his interest in religion in the Pacific Northwest, a region that boasts the lowest per-capita church affiliation in the nation, with 63 percent of the population not affiliating with any religious institution. Furthermore, this is a region that is predominately urban, very educated, maintains a median income level above the national average, and has in recent years voted overwhelmingly Democratic. Overall, Wellman describes the region as "best delineated by a pragmatic approach that generally distrusts government, lionizes the entrepreneur, nurtures a libertarian and individualistic set of values, and seeks the preservation of the region's resources and beauty." All of these factors, Wellman believes, should guarantee the success of liberal Protestant churches. But they have not.

As Wellman set out to write this book, he planned to identify and compare successful liberal churches with successful evangelical churches. That proved to be difficult. Wellman identified and studied 24 "of the fastest growing evangelical churches in western Washington and western Oregon that had shown substantial growth in numbers and finances between 2000 and 2005." He compared these with ten "vital" liberal churches—these were churches that had simply maintained their membership and financial status over the previous few years (although by the end of the study they hadn't even done that). Only two of the liberal churches had grown, three had plateaued, and five had marginally declined, even as evangelical growth continued unabated. By every measure of "success," then, evangelicals far outpaced liberals. So, rather than providing liberals around the country with a positive model of growth from the Pacific Northwest, Wellman ended up adding another chapter to the familiar chronicle of liberal Christianity's continuing crisis. Furthermore, by focusing specifically on the Pacific Northwest, he actually demonstrated that the future of liberal Protestantism is even dicier than we have realized. In a region where liberal churches should be thriving, they are dying, and where evangelicals should be relegated to the margins, they are taking center stage. Much like what is happening on the Palouse.

Wellman places the different "moral worldviews" of evangelicals and liberals at the heart of his narrative. Evangelicals put a personal relationship with Jesus is at the center of their faith, while at the core of the liberal worldview is not so much the person of Jesus but the principles he embodies. In terms of values, evangelicals tended to be individually focused, emphasizing "honesty, integrity, service, traditional sexual morality, devotion to family, and hard work." Liberals, on the other hand, valued independent thinking and inclusiveness.

The issue of gay marriage is one place where the differences between these value sets came into clear focus. Evangelicals in the study were staunchly against legislation that would allow gay men and women to marry. Liberals, on the other hand, made their support of homosexual unions (as part of their broader commitment to inclusiveness) a source of pride. Yet liberal church leaders and laypeople alike experienced a real ambiguity over how much emphasis to place on gay rights. While they made their support of gay rights explicit and worked hard to recruit gay and lesbian Christians, many worried that if they did too much, their churches might be stigmatized as "gay." Evangelicals in turn made it a point of pride to develop (heterosexual) family-friendly services, and they made children and youth their major priority. In most cases, they did so by investing heavily in children's facilities and programs. They also offered different types of services for people of differing tastes. "The liberal churches," in contrast, "would often complain about the lack of children and youth programs … yet were unwilling to change their services to appeal to families, young children, or youth." Even more telling was the way that evangelicals and liberals differed on their approach to youth ministry. "For evangelicals," Wellman concluded, "if children and youth are not enjoying church, it is the church's fault and evangelical parents either find a new church or try to improve their youth ministry. For liberals, the tendency is the reverse; if youth do not find the church interesting, it is the youths' problem."

In summarizing the appeal of evangelicalism in this supposedly hostile terrain, Wellman writes, "Evangelicals have an ideology that is centered on growth, and is in relation to the self, to God, to the family, the church, and the mission of the religion. Evangelicals have accommodated styles of group work that appeal to northwesterners because they activate a sense of belonging and moral accountability." In fact, while liberals sermonize about the importance of building a religious community, the evangelicals are living out community, supporting "one another economically, socially, and spiritually."

Liberals are not happy about being the losers in the clash of Christian civilizations. In fact, according to Wellman, they are preoccupied with evangelicals: "Liberals tended to comment more frequently about evangelicals than evangelicals about liberals." Liberal churches "felt directly tested by the numerical success of evangelical congregations, and frequently bemoaned this competition." In many ways, liberals viewed evangelicals, who they insist on calling "fundamentalists," as the enemy: "For liberals, the disparagement of 'fundamentalists' became a cliché throughout the study." In contrast, evangelicals' main enemy is secular society and liberal culture, not mainline churches. In fact, when asked about their co-religionists, evangelicals usually expressed pity about the challenges facing the nation's mainline denominations (which probably irritates the liberals even more).

Although religion in the Pacific Northwest mirrors national trends more closely than the author expected, there are a few ways in which the area is in fact unique. One is Pacific Northwesterners' profound commitment to the outdoors and to nature religions. Although liberal churches work to capitalize on this, such commitments most often keep liberally minded people out of church altogether. The liberal denominations also suffer from the region's laissez-faire attitude towards church. Unlike other parts of the country, where people experience heavy social pressure to fellowship, the norm in this region is for people not to go to church. Church membership is not a prerequisite for achieving good standing in the community. Finally, one of the central characteristics of church in the Pacific Northwest is the omnipresence of coffee. Maybe this is the true reason why evangelicalism is flourishing. "On numerous occasions," Wellman writes, "the idea of coffee and worship were twinned as normal and expected in evangelical churches. Coffee, as one evangelical put it, is the 'sacrament of the [Pacific Northwest].' "

Evangelical vs. Liberal is a balanced and engaging exploration of religious difference in the most unchurched region of the country. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this study was Wellman's reflection on how his research had influenced him as a Presbyterian minister and professor of religion. "I began by sharing some of the biases of liberals toward evangelicals," he writes. "But through my research I have come not to agree with evangelicals but to respect the power of their convictions and the perseverance by which they serve one another, their communities, and their world. Evangelicals, in this study, put their feet and their resources where their mouth is." This is not to say that liberals don't. However, evangelicals have a far clearer sense of community and mission. And in Moscow, Idaho, they also serve good coffee and know how to make really tasty French food. For all of these reasons, evangelicals are winning the clash of Christian civilizations, not just across the nation, but even in the Pacific Northwest.

Matthew A. Sutton is assistant professor of history at Washington State University. He is the author of Aimee Semple McPherson and the Resurrection of Christian America (Harvard Univ. Press).

Copyright © 2011 Books & Culture. Click for reprint information.

Book Review: Carl Raschke's "GloboChrist" for all the Nations of the World!

Sadly, Raschke's predictions seem all too true in hindsight to America's 9/11 towers tragedy (2001) ten years ago, and more recently, the unrest and rock-throwing strife between Coptic Christians and Islamist during Eqypt's political turmoil and governmental change this past weekend (May 8, 2011).

I am also including a link to an article from R.E. Slater entitled "Pluralism, Tolerance and Accommodation" that seems a very practical application of Raschke's GloboChrist within the context of God's coming kingdom that is "here-but-not-yet" or "here-but-not-fully" in this age of the Church.

Enjoy,

skinhead

"Pluralism, Tolerance and Accommodation"

by R.E. Slater

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Baker Academics: The Church and Postmodern Culture
About the series: The Church and Postmodern Culture series features high-profile theorists in continental philosophy and contemporary theology writing for a broad, nonspecialist audience interested in the impact of postmodern theory on the faith and practice of the church.

Link to Baker's Academic Series here


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The Messenger Is the Message

How will you obey the Great Commission today?

by Carl Raschke

http://www.booksandculture.com/articles/webexclusives/2009/april/090413.html?paging=off

Reviewed by Christopher Benson

August 2008 pub. date

We roam the global village as Alice roamed the chessboard in Through the Looking-Glass: pawns bewildered at every turn. The word "postmodernism" appears backwards, like the poem "Jabberwocky." Even when we hold it up to a mirror, the concept remains slippery. Alice responds to the poem in the same way we respond to postmodernism: "Somehow it seems to fill my head with ideas—only I don't exactly know what they are! However, somebody killed something: that's clear, at any rate." Modernity, we surmise, was killed, and its murderers are still fugitives.

Carl Raschke is our Humpty Dumpty, perspicaciously interpreting the "postmodern moment" in GloboChrist, the third volume in Baker Academic's series, The Church and Postmodern Culture. Whereas the first two books in the series, James K. A. Smith's, Who's Afraid of Postmodernism? and John D. Caputo's, What Would Jesus Deconstruct?, offered textual exegesis of postmodern thinkers to correct stubborn misunderstandings and to show resonance with the Christian tradition, Raschke's book offers cultural exegesis to clarify the church's missional task in a global age. An early explorer of the intersection between Continental Philosophy and theology, author of The Next Reformation: Why Evangelicals Must Embrace Postmodernity, Raschke serves as chair of religious studies at the University of Denver.

While too many Christians are tiresomely proclaiming that they are pro- or anti-postmodernism, crudely defining the heterogeneous concept, Raschke steps out of the impasse by announcing what should be obvious: "a dramatic global metamorphosis." Instead of wrangling over the "uncounted usages and syntactical peculiarities" of a word, he rightly claims: "Becoming postmodern means that we all, whether we like it or not, are now going global, which is what that obscure first-century sect leader from Palestine [we know as Jesus] truly had in mind."

This book is directed to American evangelicals with the purpose of awakening them to "a pivot in world history that seems as unprecedented as the transformation of Caesar's realm during the first three centuries of the common era. That change came through the strange and distinctly un-Roman cult from Palestine centering on the crucifixion and resurrection of a mysterious nobody now known to history as Jesus of Nazareth."

Political scientists, cultural critics, economists, and sociologists have their own theories to account for today's change. Censuring the timidity of Western élites, Raschke asserts that the change agent is—hold your breath—Christ, who has been "subtly shaping and directing human history towards its consummation through the ages." After the Cold War, Raschke reminds us, futurists envisioned a "new neoliberal millennium" where peace, free markets, and technological progress would occasion worldwide democracy and prosperity. Unexamined ethnocentrism resulted in the prediction that Westernization would entail secularization. Today Francis Fukuyama and Thomas Friedman are eating humble pie. The world is not flat, but it is becoming anti-Western and post-secular. Raschke commends the dissenting foresight of French philosopher Jacques Derrida, who spoke about a "return of religion," and American political scientist Samuel Huntington, who posited the famous thesis about "the clash of civilizations." They helped reveal the "fraudulent utopianism" in the West.

Struggle—Raschke disconcertingly insists—will mark the future, not solidarity. Ethnic separatism, mass migration, feminism, gay liberation, economic oligarchy, Islamofascism, and genocide chasten our unbridled confidence, so much so that a recovering utopian like Richard Rorty confessed "it seems absurdly improbable that we shall ever have a global liberal utopia."

Globalization has a dual power to erode [as well as to] empower particular identities. The fall of Christendom in Europe and North America contrasts sharply with the rise of Christendom in China, Africa, India, and Latin America. The church is uniquely "glocal," simultaneously global and local.

Raschke observes three characteristics of GloboChristianity that buttress Protestantism more than Catholicism or Orthodoxy: decentralization, deinstitutionalization, and indigenization (the process by which the universal is comprehended in the particular). Remembering that "Incarnation is translation," in the words of missiologist Andrew Walls, we should not fear that indigenizing the gospel will relativize the gospel: "Christianity," Raschke maintains, "has no culture itself but belongs to all cultures.”

Obeying the Great Commission in the global cosmopolis does not involve a mission trip to "lost peoples at the margins of civilization"; the margins have become mainstream, while the mainstream has become marginalized. Nor does it involve sophisticated marketing campaigns. We make disciples of all nations as the pre-Constantinian church did in the face of "daunting and promiscuous pluralism":

• through incarnational ministry, being "little Christs" to the neighbor;
• through contextualization of the message, speaking the idiom of the neighbor;
• and, through relevance, hearing the needs of the neighbor.

Carl Raschke

Raschke adds that relevance should not be confused with the prosperity gospel, "seeker-sensitive" ministry, the "hipper than thou" emergent church movement, the social gospel redux, or "bobo" (bohemian bourgeois) culture. Relevance is radical relationality.

Revising Marshall McLuhan's claim that "the medium is the message," Raschke argues that the messenger (Christ) is the message. Living in the time between times, we are acting in the role of the messenger, as the mystic Teresa of Avila recorded in her prayer: "Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world."

For his understanding of globalization in the light of the gospel, Raschke has drawn on a wide variety of sources: political scientist Benjamin Barber, historian Philip Jenkins, Middle Eastern scholar Bernard Lewis, and Pope Benedict XVI are represented here; so too the "ideological architect of jihadism," Sayyid Qutb, and political philosophers Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri. What emerges from these insights is an ominous feeling—related to "the looming clash … between the two historico-religious tectonic plates that comprise Christian and Islamic visions of justice and the end times" — and a "hope against hope" that behind the realities of globalization there is a mysterious power at work.

GloboChrist ought to be regarded as an essential postscript to Lesslie Newbigin's The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society. Raschke is at his best when he assumes the prophetic mantle, judging the Western evangelical church for:

• "whoring after the false gods of spiritual and material consumption";

• uncovering how the religious left is just "a fun-house mirror of the religious right";

• questioning if Islamism is "an understandable reaction against the global overreach of the pax Americana";

• chiding fundamentalists for idolatrously substituting an "eighteenth-century propositional rationality for the biblical language of faith";

• pleading for the Emergent Village to stop replaying "the modernist-fundamentalist debates of a century ago"; and,

• exhorting postmodern Christians to overcome their passivity and "privatized sentimentality" with a witness that possesses "the ferocity of the jihad and paradoxically also the love for the lost that Jesus demonstrated."

In the film Dogma, Cardinal Glick launches a campaign called "Catholicism Wow!" and replaces the wretched image of the crucifix with the happy-go-lucky image of Buddy Christ. Neither image will suit the future, only the powerful image of GloboChrist—who brings the "clash of revelations" to a fever pitch and who subverts the triumphal secularity of the West with the humble Christianity of the South.

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Christopher Benson's reviews have appeared recently in Modern Reformation, The Christian Scholar's Review, and several other publications. Copyright © 2009 by the author or Christianity Today International/Books & Culture magazine.

Editorial Reveiws: "What Would Jesus Deconstruct?" by John Caputo

Baker Academics: The Church and Postmodern Culture

About the series: The Church and Postmodern Culture series features high-profile theorists in continental philosophy and contemporary theology writing for a broad, nonspecialist audience interested in the impact of postmodern theory on the faith and practice of the church.

http://www.bakeracademic.com/ME2/Audiences/dirmod.asp?sid=0477683E4046471488BD7BAC8DCFB004&nm=&type=PubCom&mod=PubComProductCatalog&mid=BF1316AF9E334B7BA1C33CB61CF48A4E&AudId=16FAA98B9B4B4CBDAB1A1A7A4DBFE04C&tier=26&id=4A90F8E8A9FC402A8920F35E47ADC2B3

What Would Jesus Deconstruct?:
The Good News of Postmodernism for the Church
(The Church and Postmodern Culture)

by John Caputo

October 2007 pub. date

By way of jump-starting our thinking of post-structural theory (which I have discovered to be Peter Rollins specialty) I am enclosing three additional book reviews on John Caputo's newest book that I have not read. These come from Amazon's website of which two reader's have provided additional insights to the book's topic. Lastly, please note Hunter's reflections on politics which send a cautionary flag to Christians involved in politics on either end of the political scale. A necessary involvement and duty but one that can get lost in the corridors of power and money. - skinhead

http://www.amazon.com/What-Would-Jesus-Deconstruct-Postmodernism/dp/0801031362/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1301577253&sr=1-1

Editorial Reviews

Product Description
This provocative addition to The Church and Postmodern Culture series offers a lively rereading of Charles Sheldon's In His Steps as a constructive way forward. John D. Caputo introduces the notion of why the church needs deconstruction, positively defines deconstruction's role in renewal, deconstructs idols of the church, and imagines the future of the church in addressing the practical implications of this for the church's life through liturgy, worship, preaching, and teaching. Students of philosophy, theology, religion, and ministry, as well as others interested in engaging postmodernism and the emerging church phenomenon, will welcome this provocative, non-technical work.

From the Back Cover
Many in the church who are wrestling with ministry in a postmodern era view deconstruction as a negative aspect of the postmodern movement. But John Caputo, one of the leading philosophers of religion in America and a leading voice on religion and postmodernism, sees it differently. In this lively and provocative analysis, he argues that in his own way Jesus himself was a deconstructionist and that applying deconstruction to the church can be a positive move toward renewal.

"Caputo brilliantly manages to bring thought to life and life to thought. He wears his learning and scholarship so lightly that one has the impression of returning to a flesh-and-blood world where Jesus deconstructs and reconstructs our lives. Challenging, compassionate, witty, and wise. This book is compulsory reading for anyone concerned about the future of Christianity." --Richard Kearney, Charles Seelig Professor in Philosophy, Boston College

"Let this book settle the debate once and for all: postmodern philosophy does not preclude true Christian faith. In fact, taken rightly, postmodernism leads not to nihilistic relativism but to a robust faith in the Savior, who himself was bent on deconstruction. Caputo is a sheep in wolf's clothing." --Tony Jones, national coordinator of Emergent Village, author of The New Christians: Dispatches from the Emergent Frontier

"This is a marvelous little book. It enables readers to understand deconstruction as the hermeneutics of the kingdom of God and provides a glimpse of what this concept might look like in the hands of Jesus as applied to the church. This will be difficult therapy, and many of us will be inclined to resist. However, let us remember that while discipline is painful in the moment, it produces a harvest of peace and righteousness in the long run. May the church learn from the wisdom found in these pages." --John R. Franke, professor of theology, Biblical Seminary


Book Review by Tim Jones
This review is from: What Would Jesus Deconstruct?: The Good News of Postmodernism for the Church (The Church and Postmodern Culture) (Paperback)

In this short, accessible, and often humorous book, Jacques Derrida scholar John D. Caputo introduces Christians to deconstruction using Charles Sheldon's In His Steps and the gospels' portraits of Jesus. Contrary to what most conservative Christians assume, Caputo argues (and succeeds, in my opinion), that deconstruction is not anti-thetical to Christianity. Indeed, Caputo suggests that we find a model deconstructor in Jesus himself, who regularly challenged the received hierarchies and human regulations of the day insofar as they inhibited the love of God and neighbor (much as Derrideans deconstruct human laws in the name of the undeconstructible goal of justice).

This six-chapter book is divided into two parts, with the first three chapters explaining the theory behind deconstruction and the last three applying that theory to contemporary Christianity (focusing especially on the Religious Right). The first half of the book is excellent, the most lucid, inspiring explication of Derrida I've read to date. The second half is good, though chapter 5 is quite mediocre.

Earlier in the book, Caputo denigrates the Christian Right for using the question "What Would Jesus Do?" as a weapon to attack those who disagree with them; the answer often given is effectively, "Jesus would endorse what we do and challenge all those who do things differently." The question becomes a veiled assertion of power, in the same way personal interpretations of the Bible are prefaced with "the Bible says" to grant them legitimacy. Caputo warns us of this danger, but, in my opinion, he never adequately works out we how can answer that question in a way that avoids simply using it to endorse our perspective.

This becomes especially problematic in Chapter 5 (titled "What Would Jesus Deconstruct?), which is essentially answered with a rant against the Christian Right, somewhat disconnected from the rest of the book. I actually agree with most of his political conclusions in that section (the Religious Right certainly needs to be demolished), but disagree with his implication that he is simply being a "conduit and a witness" (as James K.A. Smith puts it in his intro), objectively informing us of "what Jesus would deconstruct." The problem seems to be that any answer to that question (including Caputo's) is inevitably someone's answer to it. I think deconstruction can and should be used to challenged the Religious Right. But I do not think Caputo presents us with a compelling model of what that might look like.

Nevertheless, this is a very informative, often exhilarating read, and I highly recommend it to students, scholars, and pastors interested in exploring the ways in which postmodern philosophy and Christianity may mutually inform each other. A great second installment in Baker Academic's "Church and Postmodern Culture" series.

Book Review by Douglas H. Hunter

This review is from: What Would Jesus Deconstruct?: The Good News of Postmodernism for the Church (The Church and Postmodern Culture) (Paperback)

I take the publication of this book as an announcement of sorts. It tells us that what could be loosely called post structural Christianity is going public. There have been a number of other books that deal with Derrida's work in the Christian context but What Would Jesus Deconstruct? is the first book I know of that attempts to outline the profound sympathy between Derrida's later work and Christianity in a readable, non-academic way. That alone makes this an important book.

The wonderful thing for me about this text is that Caputo did a great job selecting the ideas and themes from Derrida that can be used as a lens through which to read scripture and address Christian faith. These ideas open up a variety of potentials, and energies that just don't have the same resonance when examined without the tools that post structuralism generally, and Derrida specifically provide us. Some of these themes include the journey, the unavoidable nature of impasses; the idea that the moment when we are faced with the impossible is the exact moment when real potentials are opened. He also addresses Derrida's unique understanding of justice, the economy of the gift and hospitality, to name a few.

What makes Caputo's summary of Derrida useful is that it directs our attention to the structure of how themes such as love, or loving God, or one's neighbor (as only one of many potential examples) are articulated in scripture but also the significant pragmatic and philosophical challenges posed by such themes, their aporias [(sic, "the difficuilty of establishing the truths of a proposition")], and the difficulties we face when we are willing to take this kind of challenge seriously. This is important work and frankly it strikes me that Christianity in America today is often dead set against doing this kind of work. This leads to another reason we need a book such as this. At no other point in my lifetime has Christianity been so defined by political affiliations, reduced to partisan politics in the most cynical way. The all-to-common and easy conflation of Christianity with specific political views means that Christianity is often robbed of its content and of the specific challenges it poses to us. Addressing Christianity through a Deconstructive hermeneutic is an important way to counteract this trend.

All that being said I think the book has two significant problems. The first is the way it describes its themes. Caputo often under describes them to the point where I'm not sure the uninitiated will be able to see what is so remarkable about the interaction between post structuralism and Christianity.

The other difficulty I have with the book is the way it addresses politics in the final chapter. Politics desperately needs addressing but the way he does it here is disappointing. He spends a great deal of time simply beating up the Christian right. Granted my own politics area very similar to Caputo's but in the last chapter he obviously ignores his own call for a strong argument, and his criticisms are not deconstructive in nature at all. They are, more or less, common leftist critiques. The problem with this is that the full scope and impact of deconstruction is masked, and readers are definitely going to get the idea that deconstruction is merely a patsy for leftist politics. I think Caputo knows better and deconstruction deserves better. There are times when his readings could have become more vital, such as in his discussion of abortion, where he hints at the potentials of a deconstructive engagement; but for whatever reason he chooses not to develop those potentials.

So in the end I am ambivalent about this book. This book is necessary, and I hope it will get readers interested in the very rich interaction between Derrida and Christianity, but at the same time readers should seek out what's missing, and not be willing to take Caputo's word for it when he reduces deconstruction to the political. Caputo is right that there is good news in post modernism for the Church, and I hope more people will be willing to seek it out.