Vintage and New serve as not-so-subtle handles for understanding the core differences between Mark Driscoll and his Acts 29 network and Tony Jones and the Emergent Village network.
In his book, Jones focuses on celebrating and publicizing Emergent and giving readers access to what is really going on inside the emerging church movement, which he characterizes as a third way for Christianity—an alternative to the left/right dichotomy he thinks holds the faith captive.
Jones’s writing is crisp and engaging. He frames his exploration of the emergent movement around its origins, key players, theology and practice, and the interplay of faith and culture. He also defends the movement from misunderstandings and misrepresentations that he says abound in certain liberal and evangelical circles. When not defending, explaining, or exploring the emergent church, Jones gives passing descriptions of why the efforts of non-emergents (from Rick Warren to Joel Osteen) are out of step or otherwise deficient. At his best, Jones provides real world insights that should prove helpful for grasping an admittedly messy movement; in his worse moments, he comes off defensive, dismissive, and smug.
Compared with Jones, Driscoll and co-author Gerry Breshears are just as energetic in exploring a Christian faith that makes sense for today, but they try to cut through clutter in order to (re)introduce readers to the real Jesus and remind readers how he makes as much sense today as ever.
Driscoll brings his sharp wit and pastoral passion to a book that is largely an everyman’s intro to systematic theology. It’s a simple and straightforward format: ask questions, provide answers, repeat. Each chapter explores a headline question such as “Is Jesus the Only God?” or “What Did Jesus Accomplish on the Cross?” before concluding with a blitz of “answers to common questions.” It’s unclear who exactly is asking these common questions, but that doesn’t stop Driscoll from giving common answers. The question and answer format covers a lot of bases without a lot of vibrancy.
While methodically traipsing through the basics of Christian belief, Driscoll sporadically spices things up with colorful verbiage that will make some readers laugh and others wince. Once in a while he says something so off kilter, I wondered where it came from and what purpose it served. While Jones’s book is self-consciously politically correct, Driscoll is just as self-consciously politically incorrect, reveling in his role as a blue collar theologian.
Where Vintage Jesus shines is in Driscoll’s testimony. He’s a captivating narrator who evokes emotion and resolve on topics such as conversion and God’s judgment. When relating theological truth to real-world experiences (especially his own), Driscoll’s passion jumps off the page, only to disappear again behind some tame answers that float disconnected from anything real.
Both books left me curious about what the authors hoped to elicit from readers. Were they reassuring the converted or aiming at those on the fence? Certainly emergent types will cheer and find companionship with Jones’s dispatches, while critics will find evidence for believing their condemnation of the movement is well-founded. Similarly with Driscoll, his foundational treatise should give encouragement to those who already abhor what they consider the vacuous nature of emergent Christianity. Both books may stoke the already polarized nature of the conversation.
Before reading these two books, I considered myself neutral in this intra-faith feud. I finished with stronger opinions and was surprised by some of my reactions. For my reactive review and to continue the conversation, visit Leadership‘s blog Out of Ur.
Copyright © 2008 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal.Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
