On Relevance, Part 1: Heavenly Manna or Earthly Scraps?

I was interviewed the other day by Scott Clark for The Heidelcast and, in keeping with the theme of relevance that we discussed at the beginning of the program, I thought I'd post the first intallment of an article I wrote for the Nicotine Theological Journal some years ago (but which, for reasons known only to the journal's editors, was never actually published).

So here is the first intallment, with further installments to come.

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In the contemporary American ecclesiastical scene many Reformed and Presbyterian churches are suffering from an identity crisis of sorts. This crisis has reached epic proportions in Southern California, where unlike the East Coast or the South, independent non-denominational churches seem to outnumber historic traditional congregations a hundred to one. To many churchgoers, lively praise music, multimedia presentations, and an exciting children’s ministry program are not simply icing on the cake, but the cake itself. Many confessional ministers are feeling the pressure, when in California, to do as the Californians do. If a more contemporary evangelical approach to worship will draw greater numbers to our churches, the question is asked, why not let our collective hair down a little and take advantage of these new trends?

The confidence in the foolishness of the Word preached to which the apostle Paul exhorted the Corinthians is clearly wanting in the church of our own day, not as much for salvation as for church growth (which are erroneously understood to be separate issues governed by separate sets of principles). A ministry characterized by pure and unmixed preaching of the good news of salvation in Christ Jesus is, apparently, no longer adequate to fill the pews. What is needed, we are told, is an environment that is more comfortable, more evangelistic, and therefore, more relevant.

As is painfully obvious after even a cursory glance at the current American religious landscape, when the church no longer rests in the divine power of the gospel she must seek her power elsewhere. This forfeiture of the children’s bread inevitably leads to a sad and desperate rummaging through the crumbs that fall from contemporary culture’s table. But these scraps are not merely a poor substitute—stale, day-old bread that, while less than ideal, will provide nourishment in a pinch. Rather, such spiritual supplements are ineffectual at best, strange fire at worst.

If our fundamentalist or theonomist brethren were correct in their social evaluations, then perhaps the church’s borrowing from American cultural principles would not be as objectionable as I am suggesting. To the former the United States is a Christian nation, and to the latter it soon will be. But for those of us whose eschatology forces us to consign theocracy to the age to come, our identity will ever be understood to be pilgrims—dispossessed, yet journeying towards a city whose Builder’s ways are as high above the earth as the city itself. In our present evil age this theologia viatorum is as foreign, awkward, and uncomfortable as its adherents, for the city of man and the city of God have been at war ever since Eve heeded the serpent’s subtle suggestion to weigh the claims of God in the scales of human wisdom. It is for precisely this reason that the apostle’s message was but foolishness and a stumbling block to Greeks and Jews. The foolishness of God is still wiser than men, even men whose ministries boast Stratocasters, PowerPoint, and Sunday afternoon golf ministries.