This post is from my keynote address at the Wilberforce Weekend hosted by The Chuck Colson Center in Washington DC on April 26. My actual remarks may have differed slightly from this transcript. Part 2 will be posted in a few days.
INTRODUCTION
Most of you know that William Wilberforce’s pastor, John Newton, wrote the hymn “Amazing Grace.” There’s a lyric from that song that says, “I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.” That’s what I want to talk about this evening–what does it mean to not just have sight, but to truly see?
Consider Mother Teresa. In Calcutta, India, in her community, it was their custom to take ambulances every morning to the train station. There they would pick up the dying who had been abandoned there during the night. One morning they found a man in terrible condition. Rats were gnawing on him. Maggots had eaten his flesh down to the bone. He had only hours left to live.
Mother Teresa cared for him herself. She did all she could to comfort him and sat by him all morning in prayer. At the end, he briefly opened his eyes, said “Thank you,” and died. Later that day she said with a smile, “I had the privilege this morning of caring for the dying Christ.” A reference to Jesus’ words in Matthew 25.
Mother Teresa has been widely praised as one of the most important Christian leaders of the 20th Century. She has been celebrated for her efforts to make the invisible kingdom visible by both Protestants and Catholics, by Christians and secularists. She was a tiny Albanian nun with no wealth, no position of power or authority, no great education. And yet presidents and popes listened to her. Countless millions have been inspired by her. What was the secret behind her influence?
I suggest that what made her different was not merely what she did in the world, but how she saw the world.
Where others saw a dying beggar, she saw the face of Christ. Where others saw worthless street kids, she saw the children of God. Where others saw a president, she saw a man like any other in need of a Savior’s grace. Mother Teresa’s sight, how she saw the world, proceeded her impact in the world.
That’s what I want to talk to you about tonight–how we see the world. Because how we see the world will determine our actions within it. I am convinced that this is the central dilemma facing the church in the West. Consider that we have more Christian books, music, films, colleges, churches, institutions, merchandise, education and radio stations than any other believers in history. We do not lack resources. And we are seeing a generation of young Christians arise who want to change the world. They are activist determined to end poverty, human trafficking, provide clean water, and tackle numerous other plagues. We do not lack motivation. And yet indicators show the church is continuing to lose influence in the West. If it isn’t resources or motivation that we lack, what is it?
Could it be sight? Might we be more focused on changing the world than allowing the Spirit of Christ to change the way we see the world? Have we forgotten that sight proceeds action?
This was a significant focus of Jesus’ work with his own followers. Both his miracles and his parables were intended to open their eyes to see a different world. He wanted them to see a world in which it made sense to bless those who cursed you, a world where the first are last and the last first, a world where the outcast is given the seat of honor, where the widow’s penny is the greatest offering, a world where a rejected and crucified King conquers all.
But his followers were slow to see the world as Jesus did, and so quoting Isaiah, he rebuked them—”You have eyes but you do not see.” Could he say the same thing to our generation with all of our resources; all of our zeal? So, rather than talking about how to change the world, tonight I want to challenge the way we see the world.
PART ONE: FROM EXODUS TO EXILE
Over the last century, The way many Christians have come to engage the world has shifted dramatically, but surprisingly the way we see it has not. Let me explain with very simple categories. The first is EXODUS. In the OT God rescued his people from slavery in Egypt. He called them to be separated from that idolatrous, pagan culture. They were set apart and holy.
For a good portion of the last century much of the American church believed it too was called to an Exodus model of cultural disengagement. In the early 20th century new ideas seen as contrary to Christian faith were intersecting the culture. The Modernist-Fundamentalist Controversy was raging, and many historians see the Scopes Monkey Trail in 1925 as a turning point for theologically orthodox Protestants. Believing the world was a lost cause, Christians withdrew from the public square. They created their own, insular subculture–a Christian facsimile of the popular culture to await Christ’s return–they withdraw from the academy, from politics, entertainment, and other centers of cultural influence.
This Exodus view saw the world as evil and, like Egypt, fit for destruction. The world is saw was a dangerous and fearful place. If that’s how you see the world, then separation is a sensible thing to do. Thomas Aquinas said fear is a contracting force in the Christian’s life. He compared it to a city under siege. The inhabitants of the land contract into the city behind walls and fortifications. They store their resources for survival hunker down against the outside threat. That’s a fair description of the Exodus model.
But in the 1970s a dramatic shift happened. Evangelicals came roaring back into the public square from the cultural wilderness. Newsweek even proclaimed 1976 the “Year of the Evangelicals.” They had aggressively reengaged the culture, and especially politics. What happened? Christians abandoned the Exodus model of disengagement for an EXILE model of cultural influence.
Centuries after the exodus, God’s people again found themselves living in a pagan land. They were captives, exiles in Babylon. But God’s command to his people this time was not separation. Instead he tells them to make the best of their situation–to make lemonade out of lemons. Through Jeremiah he tells them to “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile…for in it’s welfare you will find your welfare.” In other words, you’re stuck here so help out. If the land of your captivity prospers, so will you. It’s highly practical and effective advise.
Exile is the way many evangelicals have come to think about cultural engagement for the last 40 years. In fact it has become really difficult to avoid Jeremiah 29:7–it’s presented at nearly every Christian conference–including this one. I wouldn’t be surprised to see a guy with a rainbow wig holding it up on a poster at an NFL game. “Seek the welfare of the city” has become both an anthem and a rallying cry for this generation of Christians. And I understand its appeal. Exile is seen as far better than the old Exodus approach. The Exile idea motivates Christians to engage the culture, to be involved, to tackle social problems, and make the world a better place. In the Exodus model, there really is no reason to make God’s kingdom visible or seek the welfare of the world. In the Exile model, however, that is precisely what we are supposed to do.
But what led to this shift in posture from Exodus to Exile? From cultural separation to cultural engagement? What happened in the 1970s? Perhaps the most obvious catalyst for the ship was the Supreme Court’s legalization of abortion, and around the same time we saw the symbolic entrance of the gay community out of the closet and into the public square. These two events signaled that the cultural and sexual revolution of the 1960s, which Christian had feared, wasn’t going away. Instead it was becoming codified into the country’s laws and politics.
Evangelicals felt the culture was slipping off its Judeo-Christian foundations, and since Christ hadn’t returned yet as the Fundamentalists a generation earlier had hoped, evangelicals were becoming increasingly worried about the influence of these cultural trends on their children and institutions. In other words, what drove many from Exodus to Exile was fear.
James Davidson Hunter, author of To Change the World, describes it this way:
The rhetoric of world changing originates from a profound angst that the world is changing for the worse, and that we must act urgently. There’s a sense of panic that things are falling apart. If we don’t respond now, we’ll lose the things we cherish the most. What animates this talk is a desperation to hold on to something when the world no longer makes sense.
If we understand the roots of modern Christian cultural engagement this way, then the shift from Exodus to Exile really isn’t a shift in vision but merely a shift in strategy. Both Exodus and Exile see the world the same way. They both see the world as a fundamentally dangerous and threatening place in which we are not safe. The only difference is how each model responds to the threat–flight or fight? Exodus says we should flee from the world and protect ourselves, while the Exile model says we should engage the world and strive to make it better.
But look again at Jeremiah 29:7. The Israelites are told to “Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile…for in it’s welfare you will find your welfare.” I want you to notice the motivation provided here. Why are God’s people seeking the welfare of Babylon? Is it out of love for their neighbors? Is it because they genuinely want to see Babylon flourish and thrive? No, Jeremiah 29:7 is a supremely pragmatic command predicated on self-interest. It is fear that drives the Israelites to make the best of their captivity. At the end of the day they’re not concerned about the Babylonians–they’re concerned for themselves and the survival of their own community.
What I want you to understand is that the Exile model, the Jeremiah 29:7 model, is sub-Christian at best and un-Christian at worst. Exile sees the world as a dangerous place; it is a model predicated on fear and control. And through such things the kingdom of God cannot be revealed. Ours is not a kingdom of fear and control, but one of love and freedom. But we remain attracted to the Exile model because it is easier; we recognize that the fastest way to motivate Christians to engage the world is to scare them. Fear is a powerful and popular motivator.
So when we see “Christian” leaders stoking the fears of believers regarding any number of issues, we should remember how profoundly un-Christ-like they are behaving. Despite their stated intentions, those seeking to inflate our fears are not leading us closer to Christ and his kingdom, but away from him. Because where the raging fires of fear and anger are fed, the inviting glow of Christ-centered faith and love cannot long endure. As Henri Nouwen said, “fear engenders fear. It never gives birth to love.” Likewise, social engagment driven by fear cannot produce the fruit of the kingdom of God.
Stay tuned for part 2 in which I discuss how seeing the world with new eyes can shift us from the Exile model to one of Incarnation.
