Sin, Justification, and Salvation: Critical Theory as Christ-less Christianity

Secular Christian Heresy

One of the more perplexing questions I received after writing my last article was, “Why do you call critical theory a secular Christian heresy?”  It was perplexing to me because I thought that was the burden of my whole article; I could see someone disagreeing with me and objecting, but not simply misunderstanding. 

To be clear in this article, let me say what I mean by secularized Christian heresy.  A heresy is simply unbalanced or incorrect teaching.  The word heresy means to pick and choose, so rather than accepting the full, robust teaching of the Holy Scriptures regarding this or that topic, they embrace some aspects of it and neglect others. 

So, to claim that Jesus was an inspired but perfectly human moral teacher is a heresy, not because Jesus is not an inspired, perfectly human moral teacher, but because teaching that alone neglects the other Biblical teaching that He is also the Word of God that “became flesh and dwelt among us,” (John 1:14) the eternal only-begotten Son of the Father, “the only God, who is at the Father’s side, [who] has made [God] known” because “No one has ever seen God.” (John 1:18) Both Jesus’ full humanity and absolute divinity must be proclaimed together for the Church to correctly articulate the Biblical teaching about who Jesus is.  Anything other, less, or partial is heresy.

Christian theology has many subcategories.  In addition to Christology (who Jesus is) just a few are soteriology (how we are saved), pneumatology (who the Holy Spirit is and how He functions), and the most difficult of all, Trinitarian theology (how we articulate who God is in Himself).  In each of these areas it is possible to fall into error by getting the doctrine wrong through omission, addition, or innovation; though some people would reserve the term heresy to errors in Christology and Trinitarian theology alone, the principle of heresy remains the same across all the theological categories, and I will use the term in that sense throughout this article.

Such theological categories are the common inheritance of everyone in the West, even those who forthrightly reject orthodox (correct) Christian teaching — though they may lament it being so, it is the inescapable cultural air a Westerner breathes.  A category of meaning like the fall from primordial human perfection was a controlling idea for philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau, whose ideas are experiencing a resurgence of influence today.  Though he explicitly rejected Christianity — especially its sexual ethics — Rousseau’s thought world was a distorted reflection of the Judeo-Christian story he was rejecting.  First, he gets the story wrong by claiming we can return to primordial perfection (Eden) without the ministrations of a divine Savior, as though an impassible flaming sword does not bar our way.  That makes his story heresy.  Then, he goes on to posit that there is no God at the root of our existence … at least not one of the personal, tendentious, interfering, judgmental sort depicted in the Bible.  That makes his story secular.  Rousseau’s view of the human predicament is a secular Christian heresy.

Critical theory too adopts categories of meaning from the Christian thought world that it sees as its opponent, makes key errors in the doctrines and then secularizes them in the same way Rousseau did, failing to recognize its debt to Christianity.

Sin

In classical Christianity, sin is not a problem for humanity, it is the problem.  “Sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned.” (Romans 5:12)  Sin separates eternally from God and as Genesis 3:7 makes plain, even before humanity becomes aware of the wedge sin drives between us and the divine, we are excruciatingly aware of the wedge it drives between us and the ones we love — Adam and Eve are no longer comfortable naked and vulnerable before one another and so begin to hide aspects of themselves from one another, the deeper and more ominous meaning of their crafting of makeshift loincloths.  Sin thus becomes the common inheritance of all humanity, for as psychologist Eric Berne noted, all people “play games” with one another, seeking to manipulate others for their own benefit; “all sin and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom 3:23)

In critical theory, sin is not the common inheritance of all humanity, but the special purview of the oppressors.  Indeed, the oppressed is proclaimed to have a moral superiority over the oppressor, especially if the oppressor is unaware of their oppressive status.  Oppression in this case is not simply defined as an immoral, illegitimate exercise of power by one party over another, but rather any exercise of power by such a party, for all structures of authority (what sociologists refer to as dominance hierarchies) are defined as immoral because the goal is absolute equity.  Indeed, preferential attention is paid to language structures that make some people feel oppressed, even if legally and/or culturally they are not.  Thus, the married homosexual continues to be oppressed if people are permitted to express disagreement with their life choices because this may trigger doubt of some sort in them even though legally their marriage enjoys the same protections as a heterosexual one and the majority of people in the United States support gay marriage (at least civilly) and the great majority of all entertainment media lionizes their position. 

Support for and understanding of the political importance of the First Amendment is falling precipitously among Millennials precisely because they see free speech as a tool of oppression, for nobody should have to defend their choices and/or identity.  The political good of liberty, which presupposes that all people will have to live by the consequences of and when necessary defend their choices and sense of identity to people who disagree with them, has been demoted to a good of the second or third order if indeed it is a good; after all, why should anyone have to bear consequences — even natural ones — for their choices?  Aren’t consequences merely another form of limitation and potential chastisement and hence, oppression?

And so, for the critical theorist, just as sin is the problem for a Christian, so oppression is not a problem … it is the problem.  The division between oppressor and oppressed defines the sinner from the saint; in every interaction, it is the purview of the saint to speak, and the privilege of the sinner to listen.  Justice means the oppressed are properly the tutors, and the oppressors only rightly their students — willingly or unwillingly.

Justification

Having just passed Reformation Sunday, it must be acknowledged that from a generically Protestant perspective, the key doctrine of Christianity apart from the Hypostatic Union (Christology) and the Holy Trinity is the doctrine of salvation by grace through faith.  Martin Luther famously referred to it as the teaching whereby “the Church stands or falls.”

In its most simple terms, this doctrine might be summarized as follows; because human beings afford the infinitely high cost of sinning against the infinitely holy God  — “the wages of sin are death” (Rom 6:23) — Jesus picked up humanity’s paycheck when as a true human being He died without sin on the cross.  Because He was also true God, death could not hold Him, so He rose up alive again beyond the reach of death ever again — that is why the Church’s proclamation on Easter is not “Jesus has risen,” but rather “Jesus is risen;” he remains to this day beyond the reach of death.

Because of His unique status as the God-Man, Jesus alone could have accomplished this mission.  Since we cannot pick up the wages of our sin without perishing eternally, God offers us Jesus’ work to take care of our predicament as a gift; we call that grace.  Because we are not yet at the final judgment when God will proclaim us justified (upright in His presence or righteous) on account of Jesus’ saving work for us, we must accept Jesus’ work at this point in time as a pledge or promise in which we trust … a promise in which we have faith.  We are saved by grace through faith.

Thus, our uprightness in God’s presence is something of a legal fiction; we are not actually without sin and so deserving of eternal life, God just counts us as sinless because of Jesus, who is truly sinless.  Protestant theologians have classically referred to this as forensic (legal) justification.

Justification — being just — works similarly for the critical theorist.  While the oppressor-sinner can never be truly just (non-oppressive), she, he or zhe (gender neutral) can be declared just by renouncing their identity as oppressor and proclaiming themselves an ally.  If you have heard of undergraduates renouncing a seemingly immutable characteristic (their ethnicity, sex, family of origin, etc.) in order to claim the status of “ally” or their wholesale adoption of a new identity in a group who has garnered the social capital of “oppressed,” you have seen people proclaiming their religious conversion.  They have been “justified” as a gift from the group designated as oppressed, and although they can never be truly other than oppressor, they can accept the gift (grace) of their new “woke” or “ally” status by trusting — having faith in — the social contract that conferred it upon them.  Their persistent pleas for mercy as they seek further wokeness are direct parallels to the Christian life of continual repentance and pursuit of holiness, but they prostrate themselves not before God, but before the capricious, constantly-shifting social categories that new discoveries and definitions of “oppression” dictate.

Salvation

For the Christian, the fullness of salvation is a matter for an undetermined future date and can only be sketched in the loosest outlines, but what they know of it seems promising; Jesus spoke of it as being “like a wedding banquet” and apocalyptic and prophetic texts, beginning with the oldest book of the Bible, Job, refer to it as a time when “after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God,” (Job 19:26) and “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Rev 21:3–4)  When this shall happen is totally in God’s hands — “concerning that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father only” (Matt 24:36) — but that it shall happen is the fundamental hope of Christianity.

Equally so, for the adherent of critical theory, precisely when the hoped-for day of perfect inclusivity, equity, and diversity will arrive is unclear, for since oppression is defined by subjective experience rather than objectively-verifiable metrics, new “inequities” are always being “discovered.”  However, that it shall indeed come and that its coming will be glorious is a truth not to be questioned, for it is the prime motivator for all the efforts Herculean and pedestrian that give their day-to-day life shape and meaning.  Indeed, their participation in the process of ushering in this new age is reflective of not only the classical Christian struggle for sanctification, it is reflective of a peculiarly modern form of Evangelical Christianity which believes that God will not or cannot act until we “do our part” to usher in the longed-for future, such as learning how to harness our spiritual power in the Word of Faith movement or the building of a third temple in Jerusalem for many dispensationalists.

As Patrick Deneen has noted, progress toward a brighter, more glorious future is the great myth — the grand metanarrative — of Western secular Liberalism, a 300+ year project of which both modern conservatism and liberalism are a part.  When President Obama quoted Dr. Martin Luther King, saying, “the arc of history bends toward justice,” he was not expressing Dr. King’s Christ-based hope in the eschaton, but rather the conviction of secular Progressivism, which is the intellectual superstructure of Christianity wrenched from its historic and metaphysical foundations; it is Christ-less Christianity, and heretical Christ-less Christianity at that.

The Heretical Moves

How is it heretical?  First of all, it is so in its understanding of sin.  Just as some misguided forms of Evangelical Protestantism confuse sanctification with the claim that a relatively or completely sin-free life is possible following one’s conversion to Christ, so critical theory believes that through strenuous efforts at “wokeness” and externally-measurable equity that people can become relatively free of the sins of exclusivity and inequity as denominated in the more familiar constellation of sins like sexism, racism, ableism, homophobia, white supremacy, etc.

Or perhaps such sinfulness may be conquered completely in a world where the education of the masses from womb to tomb is rigorously controlled by politicians, teachers, and CEO’s of multi-national communication and commerce companies who effectively operate beyond the regulatory bounds of sovereign nation states … if such leaders are catechized properly — and exclusively — by critical theorists, who have in true Enlightenment fashion, defined an intellectual space wherein they can operate free of the “sin” that haunts the great wash of humanity.

Orthodox Christian doctrine allows no such bifurcation of humanity into the (perhaps relatively) sin-free and the sinful.  There is a bifurcation inherent in Christianity, but it is between the redeemed and the unredeemed — those who trust in Christ’s work of salvation and those who do not.  Such trust includes both salvation and whatever holiness of life proceeds from faith, which are ultimately the work of the Triune God who creates, redeems, and makes us holy. 

People, believer and unbeliever alike, not only fail to, but are incapable of becoming sin-free by their own efforts.  “We confess that we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves,” go the familiar words of the Lutheran Book of Worship’s Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness.  All human beings are both oppressed because they live under the yoke of sin and oppressor because they regularly and willingly collaborate with sin in the oppression of others around them for personal gain. 

The Orthodox Christian Alternative

There is literally no option for human beings to be radically free in Christian theology, something that the atheist existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre understood far better than many self-identified Christian theologies, which are heretical on this point.  Redemption through faith in the gracious gift of God in Christ Jesus means moving from unwilling servility to sin (oppression) to willing servanthood to the Lord.  The self-aware and active disciple of Jesus is to be a “slave to righteousness:”

¹⁵ What then? Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means! ¹⁶ Do you not know that if you present yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves,^[a] you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? ¹⁷ But thanks be to God, that you who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which you were committed, ¹⁸ and, having been set free from sin, have become slaves of righteousness. ¹⁹ I am speaking in human terms, because of your natural limitations. For just as you once presented your members as slaves to impurity and to lawlessness leading to more lawlessness, so now present your members as slaves to righteousness leading to sanctification.

²⁰ For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regard to righteousness. ²¹ But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. ²² But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. ²³ For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.  (Romans 6:15-23)

Because this is reality, the actors who seek for themselves radical libertarian freedom will find themselves in the end to be merely a slave to sin, receiving as the reward for their quixotic quest unbeneficial fruits whose culmination (end) is death. 

Conversely, the Christian who willingly lays down his erstwhile “freedom,” which is really bondage to sin, chiefly taking the form of futilely trying to fulfill his disordered desires, finds in the end that every desire is in fact fulfilled as he learns to love the things that God loves, pursues the things God would have him pursue, and in the end receive for it “the unfading crown of glory.”(1 Peter 5:4) 

All this proceeds from the justification we have in Christ Jesus; it is “not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For [Christians] are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” (Eph 2:9–10)  Christians continue to be servants, but no longer of a cruel taskmaster who will in the end take everything from them, but rather for a gracious Lord who will in the end bestow everything upon them.

You see, sin is not just a problem — the problem — for human beings in the Christian telling of history, it is also a problem for God, for God’s great desire is for restored communion with His fallen creatures. (cf. John 3:16, Ezekiel 18:23, Mark 5:15, etc.)  In Jesus of Nazareth, “Christ crucified,” we are not to see a God so demanding and bloodthirsty that He required the death of His Son before He would allow errant sinners into the kingdom of heaven.  Rather, with a full and robust Christology, in the cross of Jesus Christ, we are to know God as the One who is so loving that He was willing to sacrifice Himself — experience the annihilation of death, which is utterly foreign to Him as the One whose deep and first revealed name is “I AM” — that we might have eternal life and restored communion with Him.

Evangelical Hope

In every critical respect — its understandings of sin, justification, and salvation — critical theory is a secularized form of Christian heresy.  While this means we must be on our guard not to drift into false teaching when dialoguing with its proponents as the Church of Jesus Christ, it is also a cause for hope.  Since our thought worlds are not so far apart, we may be able to give a winsome and persuasive witness to the gospel by doing what orthodox Christians do; we can confess the sins of which we are guilty, including our own slides into heresy.  We can help them understand the fatuousness of their account of sin and justification and point out that the categories of meaning they employ are quickly resulting in the opposite of paradise wherever they are or have been employed, that “the end of those things is death.”  Most importantly, we can tell them a far better story of sin, justification in Christ, and redemption, a story whose end is eternal life for those who will, in the immortal words of the Lutheran Reformers, through faith “grasp on to it.”

Editor’s Note: The conclusion of this article will be published in a second post on or about September 18, 2020.

Critical Theory—in particular, Critical Race Theory—has recently captured the Church’s attention, and in some corners of the Lord’s vineyard it seems, more significantly, Her imagination.  (For those unfamiliar with Critical Theory, this article will serve as a necessarily incomplete introduction.)  Springing from the same philosophers and theorists (Foucault, Derrida, etc.) who brought us postmodernism, Critical Theory seems to be suddenly taking the whole Western world by storm.

This is an illusion.  Though all but Liberal Arts majors would likely be unfamiliar with the Frankfurt School or even the phrase “Critical Theory,” everyone who has received an undergraduate education in the last thirty years has been familiarized with (and in many cases, indoctrinated into) its basic terminology and the categories of meaning by which it makes sense of the world.  For instance, for every one of my acquaintance at my own undergraduate alma mater of Penn State, the obligatory “professional writing” requirement for non-English majors was used by the professors as an opportunity to force-feed undergraduates Critical Theory.  As an example, a business writing class for music majors taught participants to write personal reflections on books like Stone Butch Blues, a lesbian coming of age story, instead of memos, letters to parents, and departmental requisitions.  Even if you think the exposure salutary, it demonstrates the tactics of Critical Theory, which, as its exponents readily affirm, “contains an activist dimension. It tries to not only understand our social situation but to change it, setting out not only to ascertain how society organizes itself along racial lines and hierarchies but to transform it for the better.”[1]

Solid introductions to Critical Theory by both its proponents and opponents are now widely available, and I encourage the reader to consult at least one of each to familiarize themselves with its outlines; otherwise, as commentator Phil Blair demonstrated in his response to a recent Christianity Today article, we may find ourselves employing it unbeknownst to ourselves.

Heresy

Though articles abound that are critical of Critical Theory (hereafter referred to as CT) from a Christian perspective, as mine is, I hope to explore the topic from an at least slightly different perspective; I propose that while CT may properly diagnose some elements of our cultural ills, it necessarily misaddresses these maladies because it is in fact a secularized Christian heresy.

The Critic Is Often Right About What Is Wrong, But He Is Nearly Always Wrong About What Would Be Right.

I want to start by acknowledging what CT—and progressive ideologies more generally—often get right.  One of the functions of the people in a society that are typically deemed “liberal,” “left,” or “progressive” is to point out injustices when they accumulate.  Any meritocracy (where achievement or talent is rewarded with social and/or economic upward mobility) periodically and predictably accumulates inequity and unfairness at its margins.  At a biological level, talent and giftedness are inborn traits that often run in families.  Sociologically, families pass on habits and knowledge that maximize (or minimize) inherent capacities for greater achievement and reward.  The greatest patrimony that a family passes on in a meritocracy is not their wealth—though that certainly has undeniable advantages—but rather their knowledge and skills in accessing or leveraging the power structures of the meritocracy.

This does not mean that a meritocracy is inherently immoral. (What would we want, a system where lack of talent, industry, and skill is rewarded?) But it does mean that for all the good it may produce, it is a system that can put real people at a real disadvantage in accessing the social and economic rewards deemed legitimate by the value system at its foundation; it is a system that needs a watchdog that calls for course corrections when the process whereby “the rising tide that lifts all boats” creates eddies and riptides that prevent people from weighing anchor and setting sail.

In his book The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt contends that in the same way all the complex flavors of the world’s cuisines are composed of the tongue’s four basic tasting capacities—sweet, sour, salty, and bitter—the great diversity of moralities to which people ascribe are woven from the five basic “cognitive modules” with which we define and evaluate morality and justice.  Defined in terms of their antipodes, these modules are care/harm, fairness/cheating, loyalty/betrayal, authority/subversion, and sanctity/degradation.  Haidt names this Moral Foundations Theory.

One need not agree with Haidt’s thesis about the origins of these cognitive modules to see their utility as an interpretive grid.  In analyzing the political application of the theory, Haidt, who identifies himself as a liberal, discovered that those who measured as the most “liberal” registered highly in the care/harm and fairness/cheating categories but little to not at all in the other three.  Though caring and fairness were also the dominant categories for those who registered as the most “conservative,” people with these political leanings showed a near convergence with the other three concerns of loyalty, authority, and sanctity:

What this means is that if it seems that the proponents of Critical Theory are “tone deaf” to some of the moral concerns expressed by other, more “conservative” people, it is because they are.  For the “liberal” adherent of CT, the mere presence of inequity is all the proof needed that injustice is occurring.  Questions of whether people have demonstrated the social virtues of developing skills (that is, demonstrating loyalty to the system’s values) are largely not considered, or if they are, the need to do so is defined as part of the oppression inherent in “the system.”  Likewise, the need to “pay one’s dues,” which recognizes the system’s authority, is construed as more evidence of injustice rather than a period of necessary apprenticeship during which there is predicted inequity between those who have acquired the sought-after skills and resources and those currently acquiring them.  Finally, the need to exhibit sustained effort with or without immediate reward—the most sanctified value in a meritocracy—is despised most of all as the mechanism of systemic injustice because, although such effort generally yields overall improvement in the socio-economic position of a given class of people, there is no guarantee in any particular instance that the effort so exerted will result necessarily in equity.  The moral concerns of three of the five moral cognitive modules are not only temporarily bracketed to focus analysis on the issue of fairness, for the “liberal,” they quite literally do not register as things worthy of assessment and for the critical theorist, they are merely attempts to obfuscate the real issue, which is measurable equity.

Moreover, the proponent of Critical Theory does not need to provide measurable criteria whereby to evaluate the claims of their analysis.  The existence of the inequity natural to and predicted by a system that rewards merit is the prima facie evidence that revolution is needed.  Whether the proposed system could actually create the desired equity and whether that equity would be balanced with other moral concerns  (everyone living in social and/or economic squalor is, after all, a type of equality) need not be seriously contemplated, because the only value in view is equity, which is defined as fairness that provides the necessary care for everybody.

This is how these critics can be right about what is wrong (that is, in Critical Race Theory, the form of CT most affecting the life of the Church at present, racial inequities), but so wrong about what would put these wrongs right; their theories are not based upon a morality with a complex enough palate, capable of fine enough distinctions.

Eschatology and Anthropology

This is also in part why Critical Theory is a comprehensive worldview; in merely noting inequity, it believes that it has accounted for all the most significant moral variables—the only ones that count.  It must then flatten all human experience into the narrow interpretive grid it deems the only valid one.

Four Fundamental Questions

The late Ravi Zacharias helpfully delineated at least four fundamental questions of human life to which any worldview must propose an answer: human origin, meaning, morality, and destiny.  Because of the 1925 “Scopes Monkey Trial,” the issue of origins has dominated the intellectual landscape of the Western Church for the last 100 or so years.  First, it dominated the popular imagination as “yet another case” of backward religionists resisting reason’s inevitable march of progress in accord with the Enlightenment’s self-narration.  (Yes, this was first. Scopes deliberately implicated himself so that a trial would need to be held and Darrow deliberately had the trial played out by a sympathetic urbane media in the court of public opinion as part of his legal strategy.)  The attempts to condemn Intelligent Design as veiled religious dogma are the intellectual descendants of that controversy.  Secondly, it precipitated a growing crisis within the Church between Fundamentalists and Modernists, who believed a dating of the age of the earth to greater than 7,000 years was congruent with orthodox Biblical interpretation.  The inheritors of that dispute are the Young Earth versus Old Earth Creationist debates of today.[2] 

“Your theology can never be better than your anthropology,” was one of the favorite axioms my Prophets professor in seminary passed on to us from his mentor.  Of course, being self-consciously orthodox, I thought that axiom got it exactly backward; our theology—specifically our Christology and soteriology—necessarily defines our understanding of human nature, so our anthropology can never be better than our theology.

Unfortunately, the Western Church’s obsession with origins has led to a relative neglect of the way our understanding of who Jesus is and what salvation fully entails informs our understanding of what human beings are (our meaning), how we should live (our morality), and our purpose or telos (our destiny).  The preaching of Jesus predominantly as life coach, social activist, friend of sinners, prophetic preacher, social reformer or even atoning sacrifice for sinners, has led to the neglect of the consistent preaching of Jesus as the God-Man or Theanthropos, a new species in God’s economy of salvation.[3]  “God became man that man might become [like] God,” exulted Irenaeus of Lyons in his second century classic Against Heresies, going on to declare as the soteriological significance of that teaching that “the glory of God is a [hu]man fully alive.”

Great Tradition Christianity proclaims that the ultimate destiny of redeemed humanity is not merely to avoid hell (Jesus as the cosmic get-out-of-jail-free card) or to emulate Jesus as the finest example of a fully self-realized or perfectly moral human person, but rather to become “partakers of the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4).  Through our Sacramental union with Jesus, who was fully God and fully human, by faith in His promises, we are drawn into the perichoretic inner life of the Godhead, the most Holy Trinity.  As the Theanthropos, Jesus is the “firstborn among many brothers” (Romans 8:29), not the only-born to be admired and worshipped, but whose life remains fundamentally distant from our own.

This teaching about the implications of salvation through Christ for our destiny as human beings thoroughly conditions and shapes all other elements of our theology.  In other words, remembering the fullness of our destiny as human beings in Christ has far more impact on our understanding of what is the meaning of human life and the morality by which it is to be lived than our understanding of our origins.

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[1] Richard Delgado and Jean Stefancic. Critical Race Theory: An Introduction. (New York: New York University Press, 2017), page 8.

[2] If you speak the first article of the Nicene or Apostles’ Creed without crossing your fingers, you are a creationist of one stripe or the other; it is important that non-fundamentalist Christians be absolutely clear on this point and think through the consequences of that position as distinct from a functional Deism.

[3] Justification by grace through faith—forensic justification—may indeed be the doctrine upon which the Church stands or falls as Martin Luther declared, but it was never meant to be preached denuded of the very Christology that makes it so powerful and poignant.

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word
by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or are we to
wait for another?” Jesus answered them, “Go and tell
John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight,
the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and
the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is
anyone who takes no offense at me.” (Matthew 11:2-6 NRSV)

There goes the Son …

These days, there are many who are offended by the God revealed in Jesus Christ and in the Holy Scriptures.  The primary offense is caused by the name Father, Son and Holy Spirit.  Others take offense at the masculine pronouns that the Bible uses for God.  As a result, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, in its hymnal Evangelical Lutheran Worship, worked diligently to reduce the use of masculine pronouns to refer to God. This was particularly true in the translation of the Psalms. In addition, they provided an alternate invocation for the beginning of the liturgy that enabled congregations to avoid saying Father and Son.  Many of the Prayers of the Day and all of the Proper Prefaces, were changed so that prayer was addressed to God in general rather than to the Father.  Over the years, Sundays and Seasons, the electronic worship resource from Augsburg Fortress, has offered a variety of alternatives for those who are so offended. Finally, at the 2019 Churchwide Assembly, a social statement was passed calling for an even greater use of “gender-inclusive and expansive language for God.”

The Trinity

The Augsburg Confession, on the other hand, affirms the doctrine of the Trinity in the strongest terms, saying:

We
unanimously hold and teach, in accordance with the decree of the Council of
Nicaea,’ that there is one divine essence, which is called and which is truly
God, and that there are three persons in this one divine essence, equal in
power and alike eternal: God the Father,
God the Son, God the Holy Spirit.[1][emphasis mine]

What’s at Stake?

So what is
at stake?  Is this just quibbling over
words?  Are we as Lutherans bound to the
language used in the Augsburg Confession? 
Will it really make a difference if we use expansive language for God?

The answer
is, “Yes!”  What was at stake at the
Council of Nicaea was far more than a quibble over words.  The Council was not engaged in an esoteric
debate about a doctrine that few lay people would ever understand.  What was at stake was the Incarnation
itself.  Is the Son divine, or only the
Father?  Was God truly incarnate in Jesus
of Nazareth, or did it only appear to be the case?  It was the position of the orthodox that the
Gospel and salvation itself were on the line. 
Rejection of the Incarnation was a rejection of the Gospel. The Lutheran
reformers would have agreed. 

The Gospel

Why is the Gospel at stake?  To explain this, let me introduce a couple of terms with which you may not be familiar.  The terms are general revelation and particular revelation.[2]  General revelation refers to the knowledge of God that is available to all people.  Romans 1:20 says:

Ever since the creation of the world his eternal
power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and
seen through the things he has made. (NRSV)

Some knowledge of God is available to all people.  For instance, through the use of reason we can come to know that God is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent.  If we look at nature, at the beauty and precision that it contains, we can catch a glimpse of the Creator.  If we pay attention to the moral law that is written in our hearts, we know that God is holy and righteous.  Some of us have even felt God’s presence in our lives.  Reason, nature, the moral law, and our feelings can give us some idea of what God is like.

What none of them can do, however, is enable us to know that God is a gracious God.  Knowing that God is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent doesn’t tell me whether God cares about me.  What nature reveals about God is too ambiguous to tell me whether he is good.  For every beautiful sunset, perfect snowflake and cuddly puppy, there is a hurricane, earthquake or an incurable disease.  The moral law tells me that God is holy, but it doesn’t tell me whether God is merciful to sinners like me.  My feelings about God are ambiguous as well.  One minute I may have a sense of God’s love and peace, but another moment I feel abandoned or condemned by God.  General revelation can take us no further.  Luther says:

I
answer that there are two ways of knowing God. One is general, the other
particular. Everyone has a general knowledge—that is, that there is a God that
created heaven and earth, that He is righteous, and that He punishes the
wicked. However, regarding what God thinks about us (His will toward us), what
He will give or do to deliver us from sin and death, and how to be saved (for
certain, this is the true knowledge of God), they don’t know any of this. In
the same way, I may know someone by sight but not thoroughly because I don’t
fully understand that person’s feelings toward me; that is how people by nature
know there is a God. But what is His will and what is not His will, they have
no idea![3]

The God We Meet in Jesus Christ

Particular
revelation, on the other hand, which refers to God incarnate, Jesus Christ,
does.  When we encounter God in the baby
in the manger and the man on the Cross, then we do know that we have a gracious
God.  It is the God we meet in Jesus Christ
who enables us to have faith, to trust that we are loved and forgiven.  Again, Luther says:

Christ
is the only means, and as you might say, the mirror in which we can see God and
by whom we can also know His will, for in Christ, we see that God is no cruel
and demanding judge but a Father of extremely goodwill, loving and merciful. In
order to bless us—that is, to deliver us from the law, sin, death, all evil,
and to grant us grace, righteousness, and eternal life—He “did not spare his
own Son, but gave him up for us all.” This is the true knowledge of God, the
divine persuasion that does not deceive us but paints us a trustworthy picture
of God, other than this there is no God.[4]

Offended by the Incarnation

This is
why traditional Lutherans are alarmed by the call for more “gender-inclusive
and expansive language for God.”  It is
not because we oppose inclusive language in general, as is often alleged, or
that we want to subordinate women to men. 
Something more is at stake.  When
we are offended by the very words that Jesus used to name God, when we are
offended by his masculinity, as in the past some were offended by his
Jewishness, when we are offended by the claim that Jesus is the way, the truth
and the life, we are offended by the Incarnation itself.  In that case, we are offended by the only
thing that makes it possible for us to know and trust that we have a gracious
God.  The Gospel, justification by faith,
and salvation itself, are at stake.  Instead
of being offended, we give thanks, as we do in the proper preface for
Christmas:

In the wonder and mystery of the Word made flesh you have opened the eyes of faith to a new and radiant vision of your glory: that beholding the God made visible, we may be drawn to love the God whom we cannot see.[5]

---

[1] Theodore G. Tappert. Augsburg
Confession (Kindle Locations 58-59). Kindle Edition.  

[2] Luther,
Martin. Martin Luther’s Commentary on St. Paul’s Epistle to the Galatians
(1535): Lecture Notes Transcribed by Students and Presented in Today’s English
(p. 350). 1517 Publishing. Kindle Edition.

[3] Ibid., p. 350.

[4] Ibid., pp. 346-347.

[5]
Lutheran Book of Worship: Ministers Desk Edition.  1978 Augsburg Fortress, p. 209.

The board of Lutheran CORE would like to thank Brett Jenkins for the time he has served on the board.  Brett is an ardent defender of the historic, orthodox Christian faith.  He has added greatly to the ministry of Lutheran CORE through the contributions he has made to the discussions at our meetings as well as the articles he has written.  Notable among these articles are the ones he has written about the post-modern worldview which is reflected in the ELCA social statement on “Faith, Sexism, and Justice.”  We wish Brett God’s richest blessings in his continued ministry and are very happy that he is willing to continue writing for Lutheran CORE.

I was pleased that my Postmodernism Gone Viral article garnered a decent amount of response both positive and negative from those who read it.  Though I have no doubt that my rhetorical hacking did not quite reach the “roots of evil” present in the document, that it instigated such responses may indicate that I was at least striking heartwood rather than mere leaves.  In this article I will respond to the criticisms I received as a result of publishing the initial article.  Because these criticisms were received as private correspondence rather than “letters to the editor,” I do not feel I can publish the full texts of them.  I will therefore try to faithfully capture the gist of the criticisms, though I will not reproduce the verbal abuse.

To be sure, the ELCA’s proposed social
statement Faith, Sexism, and Justice
is not a battleground I would have chosen or even expected to engage.  My mother was an original 1970’s feminist and
although as an adult I hardly walk in lock-step with her views any more than your
typical grown child, she raised all three of her boys to see the world in
fundamentally the same way.  I am in deep
sympathy with the impetus behind the social statement, which makes the timbre
of the accusations leveled at me in the negative correspondence more difficult
to bear.  Those accusations included being
motivated by “hate” (this, at least, was expected), not understanding
postmodernism, not having actually read
the proposed social statement (this was incredible), appointing myself the
gatekeeper of what it means to be Lutheran, and acting like an “angry,
resentful spouse after a bad breakup.”

Undermining the Faith Once Delivered

Although, along with the charges of sexism and a fear of white male heterosexuals losing their cultural hegemony, the accusation of hate was anticipated, it does not make it less painful or untrue; my article was clear as to my motivations.  Love, whether agape, storge, or philia, does not affirm or neglect when it finds the beloved to be in serious — let alone, grave — error.  The desire to pursue justice is noble, but the adoption of postmodern categories of meaning in the pursuit of justice (including those advanced by gender as opposed to equity feminism, a distinction I recognize) rather than the use of those categories revealed to us in Holy Scripture is, in my estimation, dangerous, undermining “the faith delivered once for all to the saints.”

It is fascinating for me to speculate on how someone could infer that I have not read the proposed social statement; how could I level the critique I do without reading the document in question?  I must say that it is the emotional timbre of some of my hate mail letters that strikes me as reactionary, imputing to me a lack of knowledge and poor motivation where none is in evidence in the actual text of what I wrote.  While my acquaintance with the reality of postmodernism dates from my undergraduate days in the arts, my acquaintance with its theoretical underpinnings goes back to the required reading assigned to my wife during her doctoral work in the mid-90’s.  I do not claim to be an expert in postmodernism (who can be with its deliberately amorphous categories of meaning?), but I am well acquainted with it.  We can disagree with one another without impugning each other’s character, knowledge, or motivations.

Gatekeeper? Yes!

Who made me “a gate keeper of what it
means to be Lutheran?”  Since the Lutheran reformers rejected the
authority of the Roman Magisterium, that is a responsibility that falls to all who call themselves Lutheran. 
It is our dialogue, what philosopher Charles Taylor refers to as our “web of
interlocution,” utilizing common theological reference points that defines the
“Lutheran family.”  The great majority of the Lutherans of the
Two-Thirds World have been warning us for a long time that we here in the West
are jumping off a theological cliff, departing from the theological fold, using
sophisticated language (that is, sophistry)
to disguise even from ourselves that we are becoming apostates.  I suggest
that it is high time we drop our neo-colonial sense of intellectual and moral
superiority and heed their voices.

Range of Emotions

As for acting like an “angry resentful
spouse after a bad breakup,” while the metaphor is faulty (I initiated the
separation, so the breakup wasn’t “bad” for me), I will own what I
imagine are the emotions of someone in that situation in the following manner:

I am angry that what I describe as a “viral” ideology, foreign to the mind of the church catholic and the Lutheran tradition, largely eclipsed solid confessional theology within my own seminary and professional experience within the ELCA; had I not had theological colleagues and conversation partners with broader experience and advanced degrees, I might have entirely missed the great voice of Christian orthodoxy speaking its Gospel wisdom down the ages.  (I wrote about this in a Forum Letter article in 2010.)  It upsets me that many bearing the name of Lutheran do not (or cannot) distinguish Law from Gospel in a way that engenders sorrow, contrition — and yes, terror — for sin in the hearts of people, that they have no idea that Two Kingdoms theology is inseparable from the broader tapestry of Luther’s thought, and that they do not understand why Luther so stridently rejected all “theologies of glory.”  I confess that I view all forms of “liberation theology” as theologies of glory because they seem to believe that humanity, whose best possible ontological condition is simul iustus et peccator, possesses the insight, wisdom, and character to forge a just system in anything more than the most provisional of ways.  This includes a functional theology that treats our necessary pursuit of justice as a form of realized eschatology.  “God’s Work: Our Hands” is the last motto any church bearing the name Lutheran should ever have considered, let alone adopted.

In my view such people—many of whom I love
deeply at a personal level—are Lutheran by connection to historically Lutheran
institutions rather than historically-conditioned theological conviction. 
It is why they work so hard to redefine or “re-imagine” Christianity
as a thing no Christian prior to their own historical moment would recognize as
bearing any resemblance to their own.

I resent what the ELCA is
increasingly becoming because in my estimation it besmirches a solid
theological tradition. I love many, many people who gather at its Communion
rails and I am afraid for them… afraid that they are being convinced that an
alien cultural ideology can be “baptized” and made authentically
Christian.  And because this ideology often takes the place of authentic
proclamation of the Gospel “whereby sinners may repent and have
life,” I am afraid that the salvation of such people may even be imperiled,
for faith means nothing without its object.  As Pr. Tim Keller (a Reformed
theologian) puts it succinctly, “Strong faith in a weak branch is
infinitely inferior to weak faith in a strong branch.”

Theologians Call Out Theological Errors

The first great theologian of the Church after Paul was Irenaeus, and his seminal treatise was entitled Against Heresies.  Augustine fought against the error of Pelagius, and Luther disputed both the Roman Curia and the Anabaptists.  It is part of the catholic tradition of the church to call out theological error when one sees it with a force in accord with the depth of the error perceived.  Because the categories endemic to postmodernism undermine and effectively preclude the Church’s traditional theological discourse as a thing engaged with categories of Truth rather than mere political power, it is quite possible that my article may actually have been too tempered and moderate in its timbre.  Theology is not mere “word games” nor is it predominantly “metaphorical” as Sally McFague would have it; it is the use of words with real referents to describe (or attempt to describe) genuine realities.  Theology is properly understood as “the queen of the sciences,” not some sort of “me too” liberal art that can hope to do no more than follow gratefully where her social and intellectual betters, philosophy, anthropology, and psychology, lead the way.

Fatal Flaws

One piece of negative mail I received ended by asking me “in the Love of all that is Holy, [to] read the document (FSJ) with an open mind.”  It seemed to assume that the only reason an open-minded, Gospel-motivated individual would fail to embrace Faith, Sexism, and Justice was a predisposition against it.  I remember David Mills once writing something to the effect that, “A person properly opens their mind for the same reason they open their mouths; to bite down upon something.”  I bit down upon FSJ and found it wanting in both substance and taste; I have explained my reasons — I hope persuasively — so that some with open minds will be persuaded to vote against it or at least amend it to correct the worst of what I view as its fatal flaws.

So, I end this series of articles by paraphrasing
my critic and begging people, for the love of Jesus, who with the Father and
the Spirit alone is Holy, to read
again my critiques with an open mind… and read the work of the French
Structuralists I referenced to see whether I have misrepresented the
implications of their work.[1]  If I understand them
right, postmodernism is acid to the foundations of Christian theology and faith…
and is to be utterly rejected in all its forms.

---

[1] As an introduction to the topic of
postmodernism, I suggest the book by Frederic Jameson of the same name with the
subtitle The Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism; it is an oldie but
goody.

“O come, let us sing for joy to the Lord, let us shout joyfully to the rock of our salvation.  Let us come before His presence with thanksgiving, let us shout joyfully to Him with psalms.”  (Psalm 95:1-2)

 

The joy of the Lord is in knowing your purpose and place in creation.  The Lord offers to those who come to Him understanding.  Come into His presence and walk in the joy of the Lord.  Know the goodness He has brought through salvation.  Be thankful for life, salvation and the promise of eternal life.  He is the rock upon which Your life is built.  Every other place is constantly shifting, but the Lord is forever.  Come to Him and know His peace and goodness.

Lord, this world is constantly shifting, and no matter where I go or what I try apart from You, it is only for a season.  Guide me to enjoy what You give to enjoy, but to know that only in You is there hope and a tomorrow.  Lead me in the way You have established that I may walk according to Your Word and live in the joy that You give.  Fill me heart with praise and thanksgiving.

Lord Jesus, thank You for making the Way possible for all who believe.  Lead me, O Lord, in the way I should go this day.  Fill my heart with Your peace and the joy You give that I may simply witness Your joy in this world.  In all I do, may it be a thank you to You for all that You have done.  You are the One through whom all things have their being and apart from You is nothing.  Amen.

“He will call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him. “With a long life I will satisfy him and let him see My salvation.” (Psalm 91:15-16)

 

The salvation of the Lord is promised to those who turn to Him and accept the invitation to walk in His ways. Come into the Lord’s presence and walk with the One who made you. Know the goodness which He created from the beginning and see how life is to be lived. In Him alone will you find satisfaction, purpose, and the hope which is in your heart. He is the source of life.

Lord, I have wrestled all the days of my life seeking meaning and hope. Guide me, O Lord, in Your ways, for You are the creator of all things. Guide me along the paths of righteousness for Your name’s sake; that I may live into the life to which You have called me. Keep me close to You that I may walk with You all the days of my life and see the salvation You have prepared for those who believe.

Lord Jesus, You are the Savior who has come into the world. You have invited all who hear to come and walk with You along the journey which leads to salvation. Guide me, O Lord, that I may walk in Your ways and know the goodness that has been prepared from the beginning. Abide with me that I may be taught by You this day the way of life which is forever. Amen.

“A thousand may fall at your side and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not approach you. You will only look on with your eyes and see the recompense of the wicked.” (Psalm 91:7-8)

 

We all will pass through the gate of death; so this is not speaking of death. What it does speak of is the truth of those who come into the salvation of the Lord. All around are those who fall prey to the wickedness of this age and do not come into the Lord’s presence and walk in His ways. You only have to look to see what that brings. Come into the Lord’s presence and live in Him.

Lord, You created us and the world has rejected You. Help me, O Lord, in this world of wickedness to see through the temptations that lure and pull me away from You. I can see what sin brings. I know no good comes of the wickedness of this age. Help me, Savior, to look to You and see the goodness and mercy You give to those who love You. Lift me up to be with You.

Savior, You have come to do what we cannot that all who believe might be united with You now and forever. Guide my heart, Lord Jesus, to walk in Your grace and live to the glory of the Father. May I stand amidst the crumbling ways of this world and learn from You to be faithful through all that comes. Open my eyes, Lord, to see clearly the recompense of wickedness. Amen.

“You will not be afraid of the terror by night, or of the arrow that flies by day; of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, or of the destruction that lays waste at noon.” (Psalm 91:5-6)

 

There are things of the darkness that bring fear. There are the arrows of wickedness that flies around all the day long. There is the wastefulness of this age where people show no respect for the Lord or His creation. You need not fear any of these things, for the Lord is with you always and He knows His plans for You. Trust in the Lord above all things and know that He holds you in the palm of His hand.

Lord, amidst the fear that comes in living in this world, guide me in Your goodness to see through these things to know that You are there. Though things do and will happen, help me live in faith knowing that all things work together for good because of the love You have poured into my heart. Lead me, O Lord, and I will follow wherever You lead. Help me to learn to always abide in You.

Lord, You have provided the way of salvation. In You is the hope of all nations. In Your hands are the goodness and mercy that I need for this day. No matter what comes this day, help me to keep my eyes upon You. In times of trouble, help me trust that all things will work together for good. In You I have my hope and being. Lift me up, O Lord, that I may be faithful. Amen.

“He will cry to Me, ‘You are my Father, my God, and the rock of my salvation.’ “I also shall make him My firstborn, the highest of the kings of the earth.” (Psalm 89:26-27)

 

The word of the Lord speaks the truth of Jesus. He who is the only begotten has come and leads the way as the first born among many brethren. Did He not teach us to pray, “Our Father?”  Is He not the One who has made grace and salvation possible? See how all of Scripture speaks of Jesus and the salvation He has brought into the world.  By grace through faith we see the prophecy of Jesus.

Lord, help me to see clearly that You have fulfilled what You spoke long before it came to pass. Guide my heart to receive the good news of great joy that You have come into the world to follow in the salvation You prepared before the foundation of the world. Lift me up with You to be with You now and forever that I may walk in the goodness of your provision and mercy.

Lord Jesus, You are the fulfillment of prophecy. Scripture speaks of You and the salvation You have brought that all who believe might be forever united with You, the Father and the Holy Spirit. Guide me O Lord in the way of salvation You have prepared that I may walk with You today and forever. By faith you have called me and in grace You have paved the way that I may walk with You now and forever. Amen.

“Your wrath has rested upon me, and You have afflicted me with all Your waves. You have removed my acquaintances far from me; You have made me an object of loathing to them; I am shut up and cannot go out. My eye has wasted away because of affliction; I have called upon You every day, O Lord; I have spread out my hands to You.” (Psalm 88:7-9)

 

David cried out to the Lord amidst the estrangement he felt around Him. We all have periods of loneliness when it seems those we thought close draw away. Is not the Lord always there? Has He not walked with you all the days of your life? He is the One who has watched out for you all along. Should He not be the One who is closest to you? He is. Come and see His goodness.

Lord, no matter the circumstances of my life or what is happening, help me to know that You are always there. Guide me in Your goodness that I would walk with You always knowing that You are always with me. Help me live the way You would have me live knowing that You are with me always. Lift me up to be drawn ever closer to You that in all my ways I may walk knowing You are above me, beside me and within me.

Lord You are my salvation. In all things, You are there to guide and lead me. Help me now and always to abide in Your presence with the knowledge that You are always with me. Help me in every time of trouble to see that You are there. No matter where life takes me, help me remember that You are God, above all others, and You have reached out to me with Your salvation. Amen.