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RetroChristianity E-Book

Michael J. Svigel

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Herausgeber: Crossway
Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
Sprache: Englisch

Beschreibung

Evangelicalism is in trouble. Surveying the modern evangelical landscape, professor Michael Svigel asks, "Why does evangelicalism appear to be spinning out of control, losing appeal to younger generations, dwindling in numbers, or selling out to pop culture to muster a crowd?" He seeks to answer this question by looking to the past—to a Retro Christianity. Calling for a return to evangelicalism's historical and theological roots, Svigel begins by addressing some of present-day evangelicalism's problems and explores what can be done to help churches regain a healthy perspective on doctrine. He then gives practical examples of what establishing a biblical, historical, and theologically sound foundation will mean for Christians as they think through aspects of church life and worship. As the numbers of those confused or disenchanted with evangelicalism continue to grow, Svigel's book meets a timely need and will benefit many readers with his balanced argument for preserving the evangelical faith.

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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012

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Leseprobe

“As the Evangelical church in America muddles its way into the twenty-first century—aimless, adrift, and uncertain about its identity—Michael Svigel wisely taps us on the shoulder and reminds us, ‘Look to the past.’ His advice couldn’t be more astute. Now, more than ever, the church needs to find its way forward by locating its roots in RetroChristianity.”

Bryan Litfin, Professor of Theology, Moody Bible Institute; Getting to Know the Church Fathers: An Evangelical Introduction

“Too often, churches abandon all aspects of tradition in favor of a stripped-down, watered-down worship experience that eventually leaves us let down and wishing for something . . . anything . . . that connects us to a story bigger than ourselves and our little slice of history. In RetroChristianity, Michael Svigel has argued well for redeeming and rediscovering a historical and substantive Christianity that can and will stand the test of time, while being nimble enough to incarnate Christ to the culture around us. This book is a well-researched and well written call to engage with historical Christianity both personally and corporately.”

Philip Taylor, Executive Pastor, Terra Nova Church, Troy, NY; Regional Coordinator, Acts 29 Network Northeast

“Many evangelicals are recovering their pre-Reformation roots in the early apostolic church and patristic studies. Michael Svigel has shown how pastors and churches can begin to implement this recovery and how to think about it. This is a wise and helpful book that will be exceptionally valuable to those who engage in this revitalization.”

Thomas C. Oden, Professor Emeritus, Drew University; author, Classic Christianity; general editor, Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture

“Reading Michael Svigel’s RetroChristianity is like a visit to your physician for an annual exam. It’s uncomfortable. It’s embarrassing. It’s necessary. And, if you follow his instructions, it’s healing. His diagnosis of contemporary evangelicalism is tough to swallow, but if we take the medicine prescribed by Dr. Svigel, evangelicalism can be revived.”

D. Jeffrey Bingham, Department Chair and Professor of Theological Studies, Dallas Theological Seminary

“When story is removed from history, it may be factual—but it’s really boring. RetroChristianity combines the history of evangelicalism with the pen of an engaging writer. The result is a much-needed and levelheaded analysis of the snags in the evangelical church as well as some practical solutions to get us back to our forgotten faith. If I want to read history with story in it—history that makes me laugh as well as think—I want to read Michael Svigel.”

Wayne Stiles, Vice President, Insight for Living; author Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus

“Michael Svigel’s RetroChristianity is hard to classify. It is at the same time a book on the doctrine of the church, a study in church history, and a contemporary analysis and critique of modern evangelicalism. Svigel begins by analyzing why so many evangelicals have wandered away from their nests, and ultimately challenges evangelicals to rethink how they understand the church and return to a more authentic expression of the faith—one that is rooted in the great doctrines and traditions of the church and yet continues to hold to the core tenets of evangelicalism. Svigel’s book succeeds in this and will challenge your thinking! I am requiring it for my master’s students studying ecclesiology, but the book would also be very helpful for pastors, church leaders, and educated laymen to help reformulate and recast their vision for the local church.”

David C. Hard, Professor, Philadelphia Biblical University

“Rarely does one find a book so rich in content communicated so well. RetroChristianity is anything but retrenchment. Instead, Michael Svigel advances an agenda to move the church forward without losing the moorings of sound theology grounded in a history of biblical conviction. His words say it best: ‘It’s not rewinding to a more favorable era, but reclaiming the forgotten faith for the future.’ This is a most worthy read!”

Mark L. Bailey, President, Dallas Theological Seminary

“We live in an age when looking like Buddy Holly, practicing the ‘domestic arts,’ and being a throwback artisan is en vogue. To be current in the present is to be conversant with the past. This trend has influenced evangelical churches in numerous ways. Michael Svigel’s fun and rich book helps us rediscover our vibrant Christian heritage even as he steers us clear of many common evangelical pitfalls. Full of expertly explained church history, cultural connections, and more clever phrasing than there were hairs in Athanasius’s beard, RetroChristianity is an excellent guide for those who justly wish to allow the story and theology of God’s historic church to breathe fresh life into modern faith.”

Owen Strachan, Assistant Professor of Christian Theology and Church History, Boyce College; coauthor, Essential Edwards Collection

“I absorb Michael Svigel’s work only to slow down and ask brutal questions about the ministry to which I apply myself—whether or not we are the faithful expression of a rich ecclesial history, or just one more autonomous assembly aroused by size and success and hungrily searching for the comfortable pathway. His is an unsettling read, but timely and, frankly, necessary.”

Matthew R. St. John, Teaching Pastor, Bethel Church, Fargo, North Dakota

“RetroChristianity is exactly what the evangelical church needs today. We often lament the issues of shallowness and novelty about the church, but rarely do we offer solid biblical answers beyond these complaints. This book makes the case that we need to get over our ‘chronological snobbery’ by rediscovering our roots. It is winsome and incredibly fun to read. Michael Svigel does not complain about evangelicalism as a teenagers complain about their parents after they have run away. He loves evangelicalism, is committed to it, and seeks to offer hope from within. I love this book.”

C. Michael Patton, Founder, President, and fellow, The Credo House, Edmond, Oklahoma

Retro-Christianity

RetroChristianity: Reclaiming the Forgotten Faith

Published by Crossway

1300 Crescent Street Wheaton, Illinois 60187

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided for by USA copyright law.

Cover design: Samm Hodges

Interior design and typesetting: Lakeside Design Plus

First printing 2012

Printed in the United States of America

Scripture quotations marked AT are the author’s translation.

All emphases in Scripture quotations have been added.

Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-2848-4

PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-2849-1

Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-2850-7

ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-2851-4

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Svigel, Michael J., 1973–

RetroChristianity : reclaiming the forgotten faith / Michael J. Svigel.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-1-4335-2848-4 (trade pbk.)—ISBN 978-1-4335-2849-1 (PDF)—ISBN 978-1-4335-2850-7 (mobipocket)—ISBN 978-1-4335-2851-4 (ePub) 1. Evangelicalism. 2. Choice of church.

3. Evangelicalism—United States. 4. Reformation. 5. Reformed Church—Doctrines. I. Title. II. Title: Retro Christianity.

BR1641.A1S85 2012

277.3 083—dc23

2011043828

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

VP 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12

14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

If the Church Fathers or Reformers Showed Up at Your Church, Would They Worship . . . or Run?

Church History Time Line

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Part One: The Case for RetroChristianity

Excursus: What Is Evangelicalism?

1. How Did It Come to This?

2. Going Retro without Going Wrong

3. What Is RetroChristianity?

Part Two: RetroOrthodoxy: Preserving the Faith for the Future

4. The FirstCanon of RetroOrthodoxy: Some Things Never Change and Never Should

5. The Second Canon of RetroOrthodoxy: Some Things Have Never Been the Same and Never Will Be

6. The Third Canon of RetroOrthodoxy: Some Things Grow Clear through Trial and Error

Part Three: RetroClesiology: Beyond the Preference-Driven Church

7. Church Classic: Four Common Myths and Four Classic Marks

8. The Essential Marks of a Local Church

9. The Essential Works of a Local Church

Part Four: RetroSpirituality: Living the Forgotten Faith Today

10. From “Me” to “We”: Growing Together in Christ

11. From “We” to “Me”: Nurturing Personal Christian Identity

12. Where Do We Go from Here? From Retrospect to Prospects

Suggested Resources

Notes

Acknowledgments

Though I am personally responsible for the content of RetroChristianity, several men and women have contributed to the completion of this project either directly or indirectly. These deserve not only my mention, but also my thanks:

My interns for the years 2010–2012, Caleb Ernst, Kymberli Allen, Coleman Ford, and Nathan Peets, for both contributing to this project and keeping my other projects afloat in the process of writing RetroChristianity.

My colleagues and peers whose critiques of my thinking and writing helped shape the concepts of RetroChristianity, even when they disagreed with some of its details: Dr. Glenn Kreider, Dr. D. Jeffrey Bingham, Dr. Bryan Litfin, Dr. Paul Hartog, Dr. John Adair, Dr. Wayne Stiles, and Dr. Jeffery VanGoethem.

Pastors, students, and friends who read and critiqued various parts of RetroChristianity in various stages of its development, providing helpful feedback: Kimber Burgess, Gene Burrows, Fair Colvin, Kevin Dodge, Hans Googer, Will Groben, Mark Howell, and Dean Zimmerman.

My agent, Steve Laube, and all the folks at Crossway for their assistance in the publishing process.

And most of all my wife, Stephanie, and my kids, Sophie, Lucas, and Nathan, for putting up with me as I wrote two books simultaneously during the 2010–2011 academic year. I’ll never do that again! I dedicate this work to you.

Introduction

Back in the 1990s, when I was a student at a conservative evangelical Bible College, one of my fellow students shocked many in the student body (and alarmed several professors) when he announced that he was becoming Greek Orthodox.

This confused me.

Weren’t Orthodox Christians just Greek-speaking Catholics without a pope? Didn’t they pray to saints and worship Mary? And their worship! Didn’t they kiss icons, sniff incense, sprinkle holy water, and rattle off irrelevant prayers and creeds that had nothing to do with either the Bible or real life? Why in the world would anybody convert to that?

Then I heard about a free church evangelical who became Anglican—still Protestant, of course, but it made me wonder what would motivate a person to make such a drastic change in doctrine, church order, and worship style. Then I heard about a Baptist who converted to Roman Catholicism, leaving Protestantism completely behind. Surely this had to be some kind of sign of the end times!

However, before too long I learned that many Low Church or free church Protestants had left what they regarded as evangelical “wilderness wanderings” to follow the “Roman Road,”1 the “Way to Constantinople,”2 or (for those who desired to remain within the Protestant tradition while restoring a liturgical worship) the “Canterbury Trail.”3 Those who couldn’t take such radical steps into a High Church community sometimes ended up in more traditional conservative Protestant denominations like the Presbyterians or Lutherans. Over and over again I kept running into more examples like these: men and women leaving the open fields of free roaming evangelicalism for the gated gardens of a clearly defined denomination.

Naturally, I was curious about why anybody would go from Southern Baptist to Eastern Orthodox, from Lutheran to Roman Catholicism, or from an Evangelical Free church to an Episcopal church.4 As a young believer who was perfectly happy in my evangelical subculture, these radical departures seemed inexplicable.

Through the years, though, I discovered that these conversions were not isolated cases. Rather, they represented a widespread movement, especially among younger evangelicals, away from free church and Low Church communities toward more traditional High Church denominations. In order to better understand this trend, I began to discuss these conversions with the converts themselves and to read books and articles on the phenomenon. As I did, I discovered that these converts tended to fall into one of three categories:

Aversion-Driven Converts

Attraction-Driven Converts

Preference-Driven Converts

The Three Trails toward Traditionalism

Let me briefly explain each of these motivations and then explain how this book helps address their concerns.

Aversion-Driven Converts

The aversion-driven converts are those who simply have had enough of Low Church, free church, or no-church evangelicalism.5 Frustrated with the “anything goes” instability of their evangelical megachurches or megachurch wannabes, some just can’t stomach the ever-shifting sands upon which their churches seem to be built. Or they have endured just too many church coups, splits, or hostile takeovers to continue appreciating the “who’s in charge here anyway?” debates within their independent congregations. Or they’ve “had it up to here” with the stifling legalism and heartless dogmatism of their fundamentalist upbringing. In other words, their motivation to convert to a stable, well-defined, traditional denomination has more to do with what they’re running from than what they’re running to.

The problem with this kind of conversion, however, is simply this: reaction against something—even if that something is bad—is no way to make a wise choice for something. It’s no wonder that many of these aversion-driven converts become dissatisfied with their destination tradition and end up reacting even to that! Lesson learned: if you don’t know what you’re looking for, you’ll never find it.

Attraction-Driven Converts

The attraction-driven converts are completely different. They don’t start with any particularly serious problem with their current evangelical churches. Instead, their entrée into the traditional, historical denominations comes more gradually.6 The attraction-driven converts claim to arrive at “the Historic Christian Faith,” or to discover “the One True Church,” or to happen upon “the Holy Tradition” either by accident or by careful investigation. As they explore these churches more deeply, they become disillusioned with their historically shallow evangelical background while coming to believe that the traditional denomination has a greater continuity with ancient and historical orthodoxy. They conclude, then, that their Protestant evangelical tradition is really a Johnny-come-lately at best or a devilish usurper at worst. These converts then claim that they were compelled to forsake their evangelical tradition because of their study of church history.

The problem with this approach, however, is that those who claim to have found the one true church through the study of the ancient church often have no idea how to study church history.7 Rather than engaging in a so-called objective exploration of the facts of church history, they are often unwittingly fed a particular version of church history that just so happens to favor a particular tradition.

Preference-Driven Converts

Finally, the preference-driven converts are motivated not by the ills of evangelicalism or the merits of classic Christian denominations, but by personal preferences regarding worship. I’ve heard numerous friends, colleagues, and students tell me they switched to a High Church or non-Protestant tradition because they “like the liturgy.” They love traditional forms of worship such as lighting candles, offering incense, reciting creeds, partaking of weekly Eucharist, observing the Christian calendar, or some other element of worship completely missing in or outright rejected by many evangelical churches. Thus, their decision to convert to a liturgical church was more about adopting a worship style that felt more authentic, appealed to their sense of mystery, engaged their senses, or made them feel connected to a broader and deeper historical faith than their narrow and shallow evangelical churches. In the final analysis, they have nothing against Baptists and Bible churches, but those less formal ways of worship just aren’t for them.

The problem with the preference-driven converts is that they make their decisions in an extremely me-centered, consumerist fashion. They’re less concerned about content and more concerned with contentment. They’re less interested in fact and more interested in feeling. Though they opt out of the typical external forms of the evangelical subculture, they do so in a very typical evangelical way—through individualistic personal preference!

The Path of RetroChristianity

While I sympathize with many of the concerns shared by those who have chosen to travel the trails toward traditionalism, it seems that many have abandoned their evangelical heritage far too hastily and unwisely, driven by emotion, ignorance, or unquestioned assumptions about Scripture, history, and theology. On the other hand, we need to understandwhy many evangelicals are driven away from their evangelical heritage or attracted to other traditions. I believe the answer is simple. Despite its strengths, there are severe problems with contemporary evangelicalism that are reaching a point of crisis.

Why does evangelicalism appear to be spinning out of control, losing appeal to younger generations, dwindling in numbers, or selling out to pop culture to muster a crowd? Where is evangelicalism headed? What can we do about it? This book will introduce concerned evangelicals to the historical theological branches of the Christian faith that have grown through the Patristic, medieval, Reformation, and modern eras. RetroChristianity seeks to challenge us to begin thinking both critically and constructively about history and how it informs our current beliefs, values, and practices as evangelicals. However, unlike many attempts to change the present by looking to the past, this book also begins exploring practical ways for both individuals and churches to apply its principles today. Arguing that the way forward is to draw on the wisdom of the whole Christian past, RetroChristianity not only points out the trailhead of the biblical, historical, and theological path, but it supplies provisions for the journey without forsaking the healthy developments that have benefited Christianity along the way.

RetroChristianity doesn’t naively defend evangelicalism as if everything were just fine. By the end of chapter 1, you’ll see that things are in bad shape and are likely to get worse. However, I don’t believe the retreat into traditionalism is the necessary or most beneficial response—though it is certainly the easiest.

RetroChristianity fully acknowledges the frustrating and upsetting elements of evangelicalism. However, we can’t afford to simply whine about the flaws of the evangelical movement. We need to provide directions for addressing these problems, resting firmly on biblical, theological, and historical foundations. This will help us respond appropriately to extremes within evangelicalism and contribute to its improvement rather than its destruction.

RetroChristianity also acknowledges the egocentric nature of many evangelicals’ approaches to church and spirituality. We need to counter the preference-driven mentality rampant among so many churches, replacing it with a more biblical, historical, and theological framework through which we can make informed decisions regarding doctrine, practice, and worship. This will help us wisely balance the vital elements of church, worship, ministry, and spirituality, avoiding excesses, extremes, distractions, and distortions.

In short, I believe that careful biblical, theological, and historical reflection should make us better evangelicals, not former evangelicals.

Overview

Having framed the canvas, let me now sketch the four parts of this book, each of which contains three chapters.

Part 1, “The Case for RetroChristianity,” explores how evangelicalism found itself in its present midlife crisis and makes the case that a more intentional historical perspective holds the key to addressing some of its more severe problems. In part 2, “RetroOrthodoxy: Preserving the Faith for the Future,” we discuss the concepts of doctrinal unity and continuity of orthodoxy, the reality of doctrinal diversity, and the hopes of doctrinal development. This framework will enable us to begin to explore more practical matters in the second half of the book.

Part 3, “RetroClesiology: Beyond the Preference-Driven Church,” begins by dispelling four common myths and spelling out four classic marks of the historical body of Christ. On this foundation, we build a biblically, historically, and theologically informed doctrine of the church by constructing the essential marks and works of authentic and healthy local congregations. Then part four, “RetroSpirituality: Living the Forgotten Faith Today,” explores the concept of individual and corporate spiritual growth, concluding with several suggestions for both churches and individuals to move forward in reclaiming the forgotten faith for the future.

During the journey through RetroChristianity, we will occasionally pause to consider practical ideas about how to implement some of its core concepts. A feature called “Going Retro” suggests ways for individuals to personally embrace the deep and rich legacy of the historical Christian faith within their evangelical churches. Another feature, “Retrofitting,” addresses those in church leadership who may have opportunities to make wise, prayerful, and timely course corrections in their ministries in conformity with biblical, theological, and historical guidelines. These two practical features provide suggestions for both individuals and churches to adjust their attitudes and actions in order to renew personal and corporate identity and to lead evangelicals along a time-tested path toward the future.

Part 1

The Case for RetroChristianity

Do not move the ancient landmark

that your fathers have set. —Proverbs 22:28

Thus says the LORD:

“Stand by the roads, and look,

and ask for the ancient paths,

where the good way is; and walk in it,

and find rest for your souls.” —Jeremiah 6:16

As a whole—and in many of its parts—evangelicalism today has lost its way. Having moved the ancient landmarks that had long pointed out the safe path (Prov. 22:28), evangelicals have wandered into a deep forest of forgetfulness. Though they are citizens of the Kingdom of God and heirs of the ancient faith, evangelicals stand at a fork in the road. One path leads home through seeking the ancient paths of the good way (Jer. 6:16); the other leads deeper into the forest toward an uncertain future.

Though many evangelical leaders realize that we stand at an important crossroads in our history, this book is less about evangelicalism’s problems and more about what each of us can do about them. This is why the first three chapters of this book present “The Case for RetroChristianity.” We will begin by exploring the state of contemporary evangelicalism. Where did evangelicalism come from? What is it? How did we end up in the predicament we’re in? This is our evangelical family history or life story; we need to know where we came from in order to understand where we are and to decide where to go.

Then I make the case for a more conscious, deeper historical perspective as a key to remind evangelicalism of its forsaken roots and its neglected legacy. Evangelicalism must draw on wisdom and insight from the church’s past—retrieving the momentous markers and retracing the historical paths without forsaking the vitality of the more recent developments in the evangelical tradition.

Then we will sketch the contours of the specific approach I call RetroChristianity, explaining what it is and what it isn’t. Though the details of this approach will be filled in over the course of the book, an initial introduction to some key concepts is necessary to frame the argument.

Excursus: What Is Evangelicalism?

Because of the ambiguities surrounding the term, I probably ought to step back and describe what I mean by “evangelicalism.”1 This isn’t an easy task.2 A recent definition, intended to represent a broad constituency of evangelicalism, describes evangelicals as “Christians who define themselves, their faith, and their lives according to the Good News of Jesus of Nazareth.”3 The same document identifies evangelicalism as one of the “great traditions in the Christian Church,” sharing the creedal core of orthodoxy while emphasizing certain evangelical distinctions. These distinctions include the person and work of Christ, salvation by grace alone through faith alone, the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit, the inspiration and authority of Scripture, the future return of Christ, and an emphasis on evangelism, missions, and discipleship.4 By implication, if you adhere to these doctrinal distinctions, you’re an “evangelical.”

A common misconception is that “evangelical” refers only to independent, nondenominational churches, such as free churches, or to loosely associated denominations like Baptists. However, a great majority of evangelicals align themselves with the moderate to conservative branches of classic Protestant denominations such as Lutheran, Presbyterian, Episcopalian, Methodist, and the like. In fact, individual Christians can regard themselves as evangelicals without attending a typical evangelical church or denomination. Even the most liberal denominations can have a significant evangelical membership.

A general description of “evangelicalism” might be something like this: Evangelicalism is an interdenominational Protestant movement that (1) emphasizes a personal relationship with God through faith in the person and work of Jesus Christ, (2) insists on the paramount place of inspired Scripture as the final authority in matters of faith and practice, (3) adheres to fundamental Protestant doctrines relative to God, Christ, and salvation, and (4) seeks to engage the world through evangelism and missions.5

Broadly defined, “evangelicalism” includes several traditions to varying degrees: (1) Almost all independent churches and ministries; (2) The majority of “conservative” denominations; (3) Most old fundamentalists, though some think evangelicals are too “liberal”; (4) Many “moderate” denominations; and (5) Some members of “liberal” denominations.

How Did It Come to This?

In order to find the way home, we must first admit we’re lost. This first chapter describes in broad terms how I believe evangelicalism has lost its way. Before I tell this story, please know that I’m addressing evangelicalism as a loving brother who is confronting a misguided sibling. I write as an insider who fully embraces the strengths of evangelicalism and happily functions as one of its teachers. In fact, I believe that for much of its history and in most of its subgroups even today, the strengths of evangelicalism far outweigh its weaknesses. I also firmly believe the alternative nonevangelical Christian traditions were (and still are) less equipped to handle the coming challenges of our post-Christian world.

However, my desire is to see our evangelical tradition come to terms with its roots, retrieve its distinctly Christian identity, and then grow into the wise, mature adult I believe it can become. I’m keenly aware of some significant areas of immaturity evangelicalism must outgrow—and significant character flaws it must mend in order to emerge from the forest of forgetfulness. When it does, it can have a Christ-honoring global impact for generations to come. If it doesn’t, ours may very well be the last generation of evangelicalism.1

So what’s the problem with evangelicalism today? Where did evangelicalism come from? Where is it going? Let me answer these important questions with an analogy, a parable, and a metaphor. Though some of this background may be new to many readers, bear with me. An understanding of the crisis is necessary to appreciate the solution.

Peanut Butter Christianity: An Analogy

One day my wife sent me to the store to buy peanut butter—specifically, natural peanut butter. In other words, no fake stuff. This seemed simple enough . . . until I arrived in what looked like the peanut butter department of the grocery store. I suppose managing that aisle alone must be a full-time job. The options overwhelmed me—creamy, chunky, extra chunky, honey-flavored, jelly-filled, low fat, organic—and countless sizes, shapes, brands, and prices! My head spun.

There I stood, paralyzed with indecision, wanting nothing more than to snatch the cheapest jar of peanut butter and dash for the checkout. Instead, showing due diligence, I searched for “natural peanut butter” amidst the flashy brand names that virtually called out from the shelves like brochure pushers on the Vegas Strip: “Pick me! Pick me!” Don’t you remember all those commercials you saw as a kid? All those smiling faces? Those cool special effects showing golden roasted peanuts magically spread into smooth, creamy peanut butter?

Lured by the flashy labels, my eyes landed on one popular brand paired with the keyword “Natural.” How convenient!

I grabbed it from the shelf.

I felt rather victorious until I got home and took a closer look at the back label. I then discovered that “natural” peanut butter isn’t necessarily a literal description. That particular brand of natural peanut butter did include roasted peanuts, of course. But it also contained sugar, palm oil, and salt. So that’s what we mean by natural? Really? All those things naturally grow on a peanut plant? I guess from one perspective these ingredients are natural as opposed to, say, “supernatural.” And at least I couldn’t find any unpronounceable ingredients like monosodiumtriglyceraticidipropylol. And to be fair to that brand, if we were to compare its ingredients to that peanut butter–like substance found in the candy aisle of a grocery store, that jar of peanut butter looked like pure gold.

But is junk-food peanut butter really the standard? When I contrast that version of natural with a different, lesser-known brand’s natural peanut butter, I’m a little less forgiving. The ingredients lists for several others simply say, “Peanuts.” No salt, no oil, no emulsifier, no sweetener, no chemicals added to preserve freshness or enhance flavor. Just plain peanuts. Call me naïve, but to me, that’s natural whether we like how it tastes or not. Shouldn’t peanut butter made of just puréed peanuts serve as the standard for what constitutes natural peanut butter?

Over the next couple of weeks, as my mind periodically returned to the out-of-control peanut butter situation, something struck me. The failure of most peanut butters to actually live up to the natural standard reminds me of the out-of-control state of much of what is happening in contemporary evangelicalism. If I were to liken authentic, classic Christianity to the truly natural form of undiluted, unmixed, real peanut butter, then the multiple forms of evangelicalism that diverge more and more from this standard become, well, less and less authentic.

What I’m suggesting is this: over the last several decades, many of us evangelicals have become increasingly accustomed to a less “natural” form of Christianity. While still essentially Christian, many aspects of evangelicalism have become victims of “enrichment” by non-Christian ingredients that are meant to enhance the faith. This “enrichment” has been done to make the gospel more convenient, palatable, or marketable. Yet as these added ingredients take up more and more space, the essentials of the faith are necessarily displaced.

Take a stroll with me through the virtual aisles of our evangelical subculture—gift shops, radio stations, television programs, websites, even many of the new, trendy churches. We find ourselves surrounded by positive thinking, self-help, and behavior modification. We’re lured in by self-esteem best sellers, do-it-yourself Christianity, and countless authors presenting the spiritual life as an ascending ladder: seven steps to this, three keys to that, the one prayer that will revolutionize your world, expand your influence, fulfill your desire for happiness. Let’s just be honest. Much of the garbage stinking up the shelves of Christian bookstores is passed off as Christian Living, but it’s mostly psychobabble or practical proverbs no better than what we find in the secular self-help or generic spirituality sections of our online booksellers.

Modern evangelical Christians who have become accustomed to this trendy , diluted form of Christianity have all but forgotten what the pure faith actually tastes like! In fact, many who are then exposed to a less adulterated faith—a form without all the unnecessary additives—find themselves actually disgusted by the original pure flavor of authentic Christianity, spitting it out and rejecting it as something foreign and inferior—or at least unpleasant to the palate.

The irony is that this purer form of Christianity is the authentic faith once for all delivered to the saints. The biblical gospel proclaimed, the sacraments rightly administered, discipline properly maintained, evangelism and discipleship emphasized, repentance and renewal preached—there is nothing really fancy about these things. In fact, they are so simple to identify and maintain that churches focusing on these fundamentals and freeing themselves from the frills appear to be washed-out has-beens or incompetent wannabes to most big-production glitz-and-glamour evangelicals.

Let’s return to the peanut butter aisle once again. We have to admit that all those peanut butter products do contain peanuts, and so they can genuinely be called “peanut butter.” Similarly, to varying degrees the marks of authentic Christianity are found in most of the products that fill the shelves of the evangelical church market. And to the degree that they retain those essential marks they are , in fact, Christian. Yet many forms of evangelical Christianity have been so colored with dyes, so mixed with artificial ingredients , or so drenched in candy coating that they are in danger of becoming cheap imitations that serve merely to distract from—not point to—the essential ingredients of the historical faith.2

“Christianity” Labels

Just like additive-rich peanut butters that appeal to flavor rather than to nutrition, far too many evangelicals shop for me-centered, feel-good church experiences rather than Christ-centered worship, discipleship, and authentic community. In fact, like sour-faced kids who reject all-natural peanut butter, many evangelicals turn their noses away from authentic expressions of church and spirituality. They would rather keep dabbling in the artificial than adjust their tastes to the real thing.

It seems we’ve reached a point in the evangelical church market where it’s no longer enough to read just the front label. Now we have to focus on the fine print and see what place is given to the true marks of classic Christianity. The problem is, too few evangelicals are familiar enough with the original and enduring faith to sort the real from the fake.

So, how did it come to this?

The Current Evangelical Midlife Crisis: A Parable

Evangelicalism in the twenty-first century appears to be going through a midlife crisis. As we look back on its growth as a distinct Christian tradition, we can make several observations leading to this present crisis. I will employ a parable of evangelicalism’s historical growth through five stages:

infancy (1900–1915)

toddler years (1915–1930)

teenage phase (1930–1950)

young adulthood(1950–1980)

hasty marriage (1980–2000)

midlife crisis (2000–present)

Infancy (1900–1915). The baby version of what we know today as evangelicalism barely survived its infancy as a modern Christian movement. During that time, what had been a haphazard tangle of squabbling mainline denominations on one side and independent, nondenominational ministries and churches on the other side, forged an odd alliance against a common enemy—“theological liberalism.” It’s important to understand a little about twentieth-century liberalism to grasp the historical context in which evangelicalism was born and raised. Gary Dorrien writes, “The essential idea of liberal theology is that all claims to truth, in theology as in other disciplines, must be made on the basis of reason and experience, not by appeal to external authority.”4 Liberalism thus ousted such external authorities as tradition, creeds, confessions, denominational structures, and inspired Scripture. Why would liberals do this?

Conservative fundamentalism originated from both conservative mainline denominational leaders and conservative independent leaders.

Throughout the 1800s, liberalism had been attempting to update the classic Christian faith to fit the cultural and intellectual standards of the modern, scientific world. Eventually these revisions of Christianity resulted in a rejection of Christ’s unique person and work and a denial of the Bible’s authority. One theologian famously summarized nineteenth-century liberal theology this way: “A God without wrath brought men without sin into a kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a cross.”5 When liberalism sloughed off such doctrines, the authority structures that had long supported them also had to go. What replaced them? Human reason, emotion, and conscience became the chief guides in religion.

This is the theological neighborhood into which evangelicalism was born under its original name, “fundamentalism.” As the old proverb goes, “Adversity makes strange bedfellows.” The odd couple that gave birth to fundamentalism consisted of two types of conservative Christians: (1) those loyal to their denominational confessions, such as traditional Presbyterians with their Westminster Confession, and (2) nontraditional independent churches and ministries worried less about traditional confessional commitments and more about the authority of Scripture and the protection of evangelism and missions. That is, the mother and father of evangelicalism were those groups of Christians who had the most to lose if liberals succeeded in destroying classic Protestant Christianity.

Conservative fundamentalism spent all of its political and social capital fighting a losing battle against modernist liberalism.

Thus, American fundamentalism was born.6 As fundamentalists fled their increasingly liberal denominations, they either formed their own organizations or backed out of all denominations entirely.7 As we shall see, if conservative denominationalism was the father and conservative independents the mother of fundamentalism, then mommy ended up playing a far greater influence on their petulant child than daddy, steering fundamentalism in a distinctively independent-minded direction.

Toddler Years (1915–1930). In its toddler years, fundamentalism experienced what can only be described as developmental problems. It constantly said inappropriate things, fussed over little things, and kept tripping over itself. As the fundamentalist movement grew, it was supposed to have either converted or driven off the children of its liberal neighbors. However, the younger liberals proved to be quite tenacious, heaping verbal and social abuse on the odd fundamentalist child. All the while the fundamentalist movement focused its youthful energies on fighting a losing battle against that same liberal establishment.8 Fundamentalism’s stand against liberalism, though, was a valiant effort . . . the stuff of legend. But in this “David and Goliath” story, David’s sling proved ineffective.9

But in the midst of the conflict something truly tragic occurred—something ultimately more damaging than even the apparent victories of liberalism. Fundamentalism began to drift from the roots it had in the stable denominations. As long as fundamentalists listened to the fatherly guidance of their Protestant confessions, their identity would be formed by the historical Christian faith. Yet when the fundamentalists strayed from their denominational ties, they were left in the hands of their mother: the independent, noncreedal, nondenominational movement. This left fundamentalism with very few commitments to the classic Christian faith and the stable identity it provided.10 Yes, mommy offered simple faith, heartfelt devotion, and a passion for souls, but in order for it to grow as a balanced Christian tradition, fundamentalism needed both depth and devotion, both history and heart. Unfortunately, fundamentalism would tend to take after its mother.

Awkward Adolescent to Troubled Teen (1930–1950). Though fundamentalism may have faded from the center of mainline church and mainstream political life, it took root in new places.11 As fundamentalism began to make an awkward transition toward its more respectable form called “evangelicalism” between 1930 and 1950, it grew into its own identity with great pains.

In the 1930s and ’ 40s , fundamentalism established radio ministries, mission organizations, breakaway denominations, Bible institutes, colleges, seminaries, and publishing companies.12 Slowly these interwoven networks grew into regional, national, and ultimately international alliances. This new growth marked the transformation of fundamentalism into the more cultural-friendly “evangelicalism.” This new made-over adolescent was now prepared to reengage science, academics, and culture with a renewed boldness.

By the middle of the twentieth century, defeated fundamentalism made a comeback as modern evangelicalism, from which it was ready to grow in cultural, social, and political influence.

But, not everything in these adolescent years was positive. The classic creeds and confessions of the faith had once connected the Protestant emphasis on scriptural authority to the ancient church ’s emphasis on Christ and orthodox theology. However, for the most part independent-minded evangelicalism exchanged the wisdom and learning of the ages for a na ï ve and historically inauthentic Bible -only Christianity that had little need for any other norm of doctrine than the so-called “plain reading of Scripture .” In this entirely new approach to biblical theology, the individual student of Scripture—from the pulpit to the pew, from the lectern to the latrine—was now a self-ordained theologian. Not only did modern evangelicals hold to the sufficiency of Scripture, but they held more and more to the sufficiency of self—the competency of the individual Bible-reader to accurately handle Scripture without the input of anybody else .13

The result? In many sectors of the growing evangelical subculture, Christianity started all over with a blank slate, an open Bible, and a thousand personal opinions about what those black and red words really mean. By the 1950s, when evangelicalism entered its adolescent phase, its diverse proponents were like schoolyard boys fighting over a ball, each wanting to play their own game by their own rules. So, the Bible and its proper understanding were tossed to and fro in the fray with the faint hope that one day, through the proper application of modern rules of interpretation, the squabbling brats would finally find peace.

Young Adulthood (1950–1980). Nobody remains a teenager forever. In the sixties and seventies evangelicalism grew in leaps and bounds. As a direct heir of nineteenth-century revivalism of the tent and camp varieties, evangelicalism had always included elements of emotional conversions and moving evangelistic meetings. But by the 1950s, these evangelistic crusades grew to staggering proportions—filling stadiums instead of tents, and football fields instead of campgrounds. The crusade model of ministry quickly influenced typical evangelical Sunday morning worship, in which the service often climaxed with some kind of “altar call” or crisis decision for either conversion or recommitment. Large numbers of converts were added to the evangelical fold. As such, the pulpit, the sermon, and hence the preacher became the sole center of morning worship, around which everything else revolved and to which everything was directed.14

By the end of the twentieth century, evangelicalism had grown in size—but not necessarily in maturity.

Soon even the mainline Protestant church (evangelicalism’s long-forgotten father) found itself influenced by evangelicalism’s successful methods and popular messages. Books, radio programs, schools, and churches popped up everywhere. Missionaries exported the sprouting evangelical faith worldwide. Liberals, who had already been severely censured by revolutions in European theology , now had to begin to take notice of the claims of these once-spurned upstarts. By the time evangelicalism neared the end of its young adult years in the 1970s , it had become a force to be reckoned with—socially , politically, and theologically.

Hasty Marriage to a Hapless Culture (1980–2000). Yet something happened between the 1980s and the turn of the century. Evangelicalism’s physical growth far outpaced its theological maturity. It had the body of an adult, but the wisdom of a juvenile. Because it had neglected the historical and theological legacy that had given it life, as a movement evangelicalism had no clear sense of identity, no feeling of belonging to something bigger than itself, no concept of being an heir of an ancient treasure passed down for generations.

To assuage the feeling of identity drift, many evangelicals found themselves yoked in marriage to various aspects of a constantly changing modern culture—media, entertainment, marketing, economics, politics, academia, and the like. As a result, evangelicals had numerical and social breadth, but they lacked historical and theological depth. What’s worse, few evangelicals knew why they couldn’t seem to get their act together. By the end of the century, the movement itself began to fragment into numerous “evangelicalisms.”

In the postmodern cultural shift, evangelicalism—born and raised in a modernist view of the world—experienced an identity crisis.

The Current Midlife Crisis (2000–). This brings us to the modern day—the early decades of the twenty-first century. Today, evangelicalism as a loose association of very different movements is in the midst of a midlife crisis. It’s like a forty-something husband and father who has spent the past twenty years hopping from job to job trying to find his “calling” . . . or running from wife to wife to find the perfect mate. More than ever before, evangelicalism is starving for an identity, a calling, a stabilizing force. And if it doesn’t find one soon, I fear it will simply end its life in despair.

Some evangelicals are handling the current midlife crisis by actually (and mostly unknowingly) retracing the liberal steps of the nineteenth century that had originally given birth to the fundamentalist reaction. Many pastors, teachers, and young seminarians are exchanging biblical authority for what they regard as a more “intellectually honest” faith and “nuanced” view of the inspiration and inerrancy of Scripture. In the process, they downplay classic Christian doctrines that have managed to linger within the frail ethos of their fragmented evangelical communities. These “postevangelicals” have not only surrendered to the bullies they were groomed to withstand, but they are becoming the bullies themselves, increasingly adopting many of the presuppositions, methods, and conclusions of liberalism.

In the wake of the identity crisis, evangelicalism is fragmenting into a variety of movements.

Other evangelicals handle the midlife crisis differently.15 In an attempt to remain relevant in a rapidly changing culture, heirs of the evangelical movement are adopting a watered-down gospel, barely distinguishable from the feel-good messages of daytime talk shows. They think the fundamentals of the faith that once formed the DNA of evangelicalism are now failing to attract people in our postmodern, post-Christian culture. So, these quasi-evangelicals respond with an extreme makeover of evangelicalism itself. Christians are now called “Jesus followers.” Conversion is “joining the journey.” And evangelism is referred to as “cultural engagement.”

Still others cope with the midlife crisis by desperately holding onto the past. A return to their roots means going back to the glory days of fundamentalism. These neofundamentalists clutch the beliefs and practices of their hundred-year-old movement with white knuckles. Though this group recognizes the dangers in the variety-show atmosphere of modern evangelicalism, their own solution is rather myopic. They don’t often expend the effort to look past their own movement. If they did, they would realize that their own ways of doing things were once new and controversial.

Others are abandoning evangelicalism altogether, forsaking its strengths and heading back to pre-evangelical denominations, sometimes even pre-Protestant traditions. When they do this, though, they risk leaving behind an equally rich and lively legacy of personal faith, biblical fidelity, expository power, evangelistic zeal, and creative energy. I’m convinced that if the evangelical midlife crisis proves to be the end of evangelicalism as a Christian tradition, Christianity as a whole will lose something vital for its future.

Because the potential for disaster is so great, intervention is needed.

Relearning the Symphony: A Metaphor

The solution to the evangelical midlife crisis is to reclaim that aspect of its original identity it has lost, to reintroduce evangelicalism to the forgotten faith of its forsaken past. This brings me to a musical metaphor.

Almost twenty centuries ago the original disciples of Jesus received an inspired symphony from the Father, through the Son, and by the Holy Spirit. This was the faith once for all delivered to the saints. This original score, often called “the gospel,” “the word,” “the faith,” “the way,” or “the truth,” spread rapidly throughout the Greek-speaking world. The harmonious parts of this symphony were written and preserved in apostolic and prophetic Scriptures, which were then bestowed upon the next generation of Christians—the disciples of the apostles. Along with this written score, however, the second Christian generation also had the apostolic melody still ringing in their ears. With the written documents, these early church fathers inherited from their teachers the heart and soul of the new song. In short, they not only knew how to read the music, but they also instinctively knew how it was meant to be played as they continued the work of performing the music for different cultures and languages.

During the medieval period, the skillful reading and artful performance of this original symphony declined. The tune was never completely lost, but in many places it had become so distorted through transposition, rearranging, reinterpretation, and variation that the original melody was in danger of slipping from memory. Even many of the records of the score’s earliest performers had been forgotten.

However, during the Renaissance, scholars turned their attention back to the classics. After centuries of neglect, the original score was discovered as well as numerous early “recordings” that more closely approximated the apostles’ own performance of the music. These came in the form of ancient manuscripts of Scripture, the writings of the early Fathers, and long-forgotten documents that restored a true picture of the original apostles and their teachings. This rediscovery ignited the Protestant Reformation. Passionate believers looked back in time to revitalize the Christian faith. To revive the faith, they argued, it must first be reclaimed. To reverse the church’s decline, it had to return to its earliest sources.

Fast-forward five hundred years. Today the evangelical version of that same Protestant Reformation has lost its musical ear. Sadly, the beautiful symphony of classic Christianity has become increasingly difficult to discern in the carnival atmosphere of one-man-bands, competing orchestras, and amateur wannabes who all believe they can play God’s original song better than both the Fathers and the Reformers. The problem? An increasing number of either arrogant or ignorant evangelical pastors and teachers have never learned how to read the original sheet music! The result? The new renditions of Christianity can be likened to amateur musicians performing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony on ukuleles . . . and missing half the notes!

The time has come for evangelicals to demand a more faithful performance of God’s symphony. To do so we must return to the original score, to read it rightly, and to perform it in the way it was meant to be performed. The time has come for evangelicals to reclaim the forgotten faith. However, this means doing something many are reluctant to do. It means reflecting on the past to rethink the present and revitalize the future. It means, in short, to think not just biblically and theologically, but also historically.

Going Retro without Going Wrong

Yawn . . . history class . . . again . . .

Remember it? A stiff wooden chair, stale air, a ten-year-old-textbook that looks as if nobody ever read it. With the enthusiasm of a sloth, the football coach reads from a book about people, places, and events you care nothing about. If your classmates aren’t doodling, they’re drooling. The guy across the aisle stockpiles an arsenal of spitballs. The girl in front of you paints her fingernails. Somebody behind you is snoring. Even the teacher glances at the clock as he labors through the material like a prisoner chipping away at rocks in a quarry.

Finally the bell rings. Snatching your books, you leap from your seat and rush from the musty room into fresh air—the here and now of real life.

Though you can always find a few history buffs who love learning dates and details, most of us relate better to the more typical experience of the history class doldrums. Yes, rediscovering the forgotten past may be interesting to a precious few, but is it really relevant to our modern world? Okay, maybe American or European history has some important information to keep us from repeating the errors of our immediate past—but what about the ancient past?

After the last chapter you may agree that evangelicalism is in some kind of trouble. But what does church history have to do with the evangelical identity crisis? After all, some might ask, “Didn’t Paul say, ‘One thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead’ [Phil. 3:13]”? Why in the world would we return to what lies behind in order to find our way forward? Don’t we have enough trouble making the Bible relevant to our postmodern world? Why complicate things with history?

These questions deserve answers.

Why Travel the Ancient Paths?

I’ve heard this question a lot over the years. In response, I’ve come up with a number of important reasons for looking into our rearview mirrors as we seek to drive forward into the future:

It will

cure

our ignorance of the past.

It will

curb

the arrogance of our present.

It will

conserve

the faith for the future.

It will

connect

us to a rich legacy.

It will

counter

the claims of critics.

It will

cultivate

Christian growth.

It will

clarify

our interpretation of Scripture.

First, looking back will cure our ignorance of the past. Too many evangelicals are walking around in a constant state of what we might call duja vé. No, not déja vu—you know what that is: the odd feeling that this has happened before. Duja vé, on the other hand, is just the opposite: it’s that nagging feeling that none of this has ever happened before. The truth is, throughout the church’s history Christians have pretty much dealt with every kind of doctrinal and practical challenge you can imagine. Ecclesiastes 1:9–10 puts it this way: “What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Is there a thing of which it is said, ‘See, this is new’? It has been already in the ages before us.”

Let me give an illustration. As a young believer, I was a member of a small community church in northern Minnesota. It was so small that the adult Sunday school class included everybody in the church except for the children and youth. As you might expect, in this mixed-generation class, the intergenerational conflict sometimes flared up. On one occasion the subject of church music came up, centered on the question of the use of various instruments like guitars and drums. In our church only the piano was used in Sunday morning worship.

One older man in the class spoke up in a deep, gruff voice, ranting against the use of anything but the piano in worship and complaining about “that satanic beat” of modern music using drums. In his mind, using instruments associated with contemporary secular music would be selling out to the culture. A little historical perspective would have helped here. Most people who resist musical and instrumental changes to the worship service fail to acknowledge that every style of music and musical instrument has, at some point, been adapted from the surrounding culture. In fact, when great hymn writers like Isaac Watts and Charles Wesley wrote their now classic hymns, the songs were rejected by many church leaders who believed Christians should sing only the inspired and inerrant Psalms. And instruments like the piano, the violin, and even the organ were all initially rejected for Christian worship because of their associations with secular music.

Though the ignorance of the past illustrated in this particular example did not drive our church into controversy and conflict, other cases of ignorance of the past could potentially lead to disaster. In order for Christians to make wise decisions, they must be able to draw from a depth of historical knowledge.

Second, looking back will curb the arrogance of our present. Some evangelicals could very well define “church history” as “the study of how everybody misinterpreted the Bible until we came along.” In fact, on several occasions I’ve heard people actually say, “I don’t care if I’m the first person in history to read the Bible this way. If that’s what Scripture says, then I’m going to accept it.” We should admire this confidence in Scripture. However, that statement places a lot of unquestioned confidence in one’s own abilities to properly interpret the Bible. Don’t get me wrong. I believe in the sufficiency of Scripture, but I don’t believe in the sufficiency of me. The kind of arrogance that makes a person completely abandon the contributions from the past is what C. S. Lewis called “chronological snobbery.”

He defined chronological snobbery as

the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate common to our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that account discredited. You must find why it went out of date. Was it ever refuted (and if so by whom, where, and how conclusively) or did it merely die away as fashions do? If the latter, this tells us nothing about its truth or falsehood.1

Grown men often look back over their lives and reflect on how far they’ve come and the progress they’ve made throughout. But poet Thomas S. Jones presents the opposite perspective: what if the younger version of me were to peer forward and see what kind of person I have become?

Across the fields of yesterday

He sometimes comes to me,

A little lad just back from play—

The lad I used to be.

And yet he smiles so wistfully

Once he has crept within,

I wonder he still hopes to see

The man I might have been.2

Those words haunt me. I often wonder what the bygone generations of Christianity might think if they could peer “across the fields of yesterday” and see what had become of the faith for which they lived and died. I constantly ask myself, “If the church fathers or Protestant Reformers were to show up at my church, would they worship . . . or run?” Sometimes I see such a pitch of “chronological snobbery” in our avant-garde churches that I wonder if we might intentionally drive them off, then brag about having done so!

Third, looking back will conserve the faith for the future. The Lord’s brother, Jude, urged Christians “to contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 1:3). The Greek verb translated “delivered” refers to a sacred trust or tradition. Paul described this tradition as he handed it down to the Corinthians: “Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand. . . . For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received” (1 Cor. 15:1, 3). Jude used the same language as Paul for receiving the tradition and sending it forward to the future. In this case the things “received” and “handed down” were the central truths of the Christian faith.

Paul also wrote letters to his younger disciple, Timothy, for the purpose of encouraging the next generation to faithfully convey the core Christian tradition into the future. Paul wrote, “Continue in what you have learned and have firmly believed, knowing from whom you learned it” (2 Tim. 3:14). He also said, “What you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also” (2 Tim. 2:2). By observing what our spiritual forefathers fought to preserve and pass on, we come to understand and appreciate the need to continue the pattern established by 2 Timothy 2:2. By looking back, evangelicals today can learn how to conserve and convey the timeless message through time-tested methods.

Fourth, lookingback will connect us to a rich legacy. Picture Christianity throughout history as a giant tree that has continually grown for generations. Some of its branches have gone one way, some another. Some are more in line with their roots in the apostolic church and the straight trunk of the first few centuries. We might call this trunk the “ancient catholic church” as opposed to later developments in the Western (Roman) Catholic and Eastern Orthodox traditions.3 Other branches, unworthy of the tree, have withered and fallen off.

The history of Christianity can be illustrated by branches of a giant tree.