Part Two in a series written by Denis Haack of Ransom Fellowship addressing the problem on how to live faithfully in a culture largely ignorant of God. The following is a portion of his article “A Model for Faithfulness” (originally posted at www.ransomfellowship.org – used by permission).
~Travis Stewart

A Model for Faithfulness
The Babylon Series, Part 2
~Denis Haack

Where Evangelicals Are Today
At the time of the First Great Awakening (1735-1743), evangelical Christianity was, by and large, transformationist. Following in the footsteps of Augustine and Calvin, Jonathan Edwards proclaimed a gospel in which Christ is Savior, Lord, and Transformer of culture. Then, under the influence of the Second Great Awakening (1795-1830), and the onslaught of the Enlightenment, evangelicals withdrew in the early years of the twentieth century into a strongly Christ against culture stance. Fundamentalism was born as a response to modernism, and increasingly the effort was to save souls while leaving culture to the world—all of which would be burned up when Christ returned anyway. Then, when the decade of the sixties burst on the scene, even old-time fundamentalists like Jerry Falwell discovered that they increasingly felt not-at-home in American society, and felt something had to be done about it. And they heard the voice of Christian thinkers like Francis Schaeffer and Carl Henry reminding them that Christ is Savior and Lord, as well as the Transformer of culture.

Now, this was heady stuff, and conservative Christians were optimistic. Since what we believed was true—after all, we believed the Bible—simply insisting on our own values and ideas in the public square would automatically be for the common good. Besides, there were good reasons for what we believed, and those reasons were obviously compelling. Pictures of fetuses proved they were babies—nobody would doubt that once it was explained to them. And anybody with an IQ over 70 could understand that relativism was self-defeating. To top it off, there were lots of us—we were the moral majority, remember—and so our entry into the political arena meant we could make an impact, politically, economically, and spiritually.

Needless to say, things did not turn out as expected, and optimism, it is safe to say, has waned. I am neither a prophet nor a sociologist, but what has happened, it seems to me, is that the strong biblical foundation required to sustain and nurture this reformational view through discouraging times has been weak or nonexistent. Biblical, theological, and creedal illiteracy has increased, and the hard work of cultural discernment has been replaced by a reactionary spirit. As a result, it seems that we are presently in the midst of what appears to be a fracturing of the evangelical movement into some of Niebuhr’s other four categories.

Some evangelicals, for example, are fleeing towards a Christ against culture stance, withdrawing into the imagined safety of their own subculture, which is, in reality, a Christian ghetto. Particularly popular among home- and Christian-school families, this movement is increasingly cynical, reactionary, and survivalist.

Other evangelicals are becoming increasingly accommodationist (the Christ of culture approach). Os Guinness has identified four steps liberals tended to move through in the 30s and 40s, and it doesn’t take much imagination to spot the same process at work in sectors of the evangelical movement. The four steps are these: 1. Assumption: there is something in the modern world superior to what’s gone before (such as the power of modern marketing and the application of various techniques for numerical growth); 2. Reduction: those aspects of the faith that seem incompatible with modern sensibilities are dropped or downplayed (such as doctrinal substance, God’s wrath, or covenant community); 3. Translation: what is left of the faith is translated so as to jive with modern sensibilities (as in church shopping, or worship as entertainment); and 4. Accommodation: the faith increasingly becomes acceptable to and indistinct from the surrounding culture. Unlike the liberals, who accommodated to classical culture and biblical criticism, Christ of culture evangelicals are drawn to pop culture, consumerism, and marketing—but the accommodation is similar, even if the final product looks different. In any case, it is far removed from a transformationist approach.

Many evangelicals who claim they are transformationists, in actuality are not. They tend to be so offended by the direction society is taking that they do not really engage the culture in order to reform it; rather, they seek to force change through power politics, economic boycotts, and cultural protest. But these are reactionary tactics, and not only is there growing evidence that the attempt will fail, there are signs that disillusionment is increasing. Rather than promote reformation, this activism provokes a backlash from the unbelievers we are called to win, and makes evangelicals look like merely one more special interest group seeking to force its agenda on the public square.

A Model for Faithfulness: Living in Exile
What is needed, it seems to me, is for evangelicals to develop a theology of being in the world but not of it—what Ken Myers of Mars Hill Audio refers to as a “theology of the exile.” Why the emphasis on exile? When we read the Bible, it is proper to ask which portions of Scripture seem to be addressed to believers in circumstances most similar to our own. This is not to say that all the Scriptures are not normative for us, for they are. Nor does this suggest that some parts of the Bible can be highlighted while the rest ignored. Rather, the question we are asking simply takes the historical and textual context seriously, recognizing that in history God’s people have been called to live faithfully in a wide variety of cultural circumstances. And, when we ask which portions of Scripture seem to be addressed to believers in cultural circumstances most similar to our own, two come to mind. The first is Acts 17, where Paul visits Athens. And the other involves the Old Testament people of God who were living in exile in Babylon.

Acts 17 is vitally important to teach us how to engage the surrounding culture and how to speak the truth winsomely into it. Paul did not live there over an extended period, however, so we must turn to the Old Testament record of the exile to gain insight into how to live faithfully over the course of a lifetime. And the biblical record of the exile is really quite rich. It includes, in Jeremiah 29, a letter that God had the prophet Jeremiah write to the exiles in Babylon instructing them on how they were to live. And in the book of Daniel we have a record of four Jewish believers who lived faithfully in Babylon, even at the risk of their lives. These passages are worth serious study.

When we reflect on what living in exile means for the people of God we discover a dynamic model for Christian faithfulness. Consider three Old Testament cities (thinking of them as metaphors for life in a fallen world), and put them on a continuum—Jerusalem, Samaria, and Babylon.

Jerusalem is where God’s word is honored, and though not everyone living there is a believer, the culture is ultimately rooted in the reality of God and the truth of his law. The Temple dominates the landscape, worship is central to life, and the passing of time is marked by the succession of feasts and sacrifices commemorating God’s grace and care for his people. Disputes are settled by appeals to the law of God; poetry and music flourish, giving praise to the living God and celebrating the glory of his creation. Jerusalem is not heaven, of course, but all of culture—politics, justice, art, and the work of one’s hands and mind—all of culture resonates with the God who has spoken and who is Redeemer, Judge, and King.

Now consider Samaria. It is certainly very different from Jerusalem, but it is not so very far away either. Populated by people who have over the years married unbelievers, their commitment to God and his word has been compromised. During the period of the prophets, for example, Samaria was a center for idolatry, and it was there that Ahab and Jezebel encouraged the worship of Baal. Though this rank idolatry has ended, Samaritans don’t worship at the Temple in Jerusalem, but on Mt Gerizim. Rather than accept the entire Old Testament, only the first five books of Moses are accepted as canonical—a limitation that is reflected in Samaritan belief and practice. Still, the Pentateuch is better than nothing, and at least part of God’s word and law is honored.

Finally, think about Babylon. Very far from Jerusalem, and far even from Samaria, the literature and culture is what one would expect when belief in many gods gives rise to a world view in which sorcery, charms, magic, and astrology are an essential part of life. The capital city of a great military empire, Babylon has become home to people from every part of the known world. God’s word and law, if acknowledged at all, are seen as simply one option among many, representing the provincial beliefs of a people whose god has been soundly defeated by the army of Anu, Enlil, and Ea, the three great Babylonian deities. The culture, personified in the king, is idolatrous and unjust, with morals repugnant to true righteousness. Here the people of God are a small minority, living among people who do not share their deepest convictions, in a society in which a variety of beliefs and values compete for acceptance.

Jerusalem, Samaria, Babylon. Which of the three is a metaphor for where you and I live today? Which city is the best analogy for life in our pluralistic, postmodern culture? I suppose it is possible that some might disagree with me, but I do not find the question all that difficult. We are certainly not in Jerusalem, and even Samaria sounds foreign to me. We are living in exile in Babylon.

Many evangelicals, however, act like they are still living in Jerusalem or Samaria. Consider, for example, the issue that was discussed in the first article: taking personal offense at the behavior or language of unbelievers. If I go to see a movie in Babylon, should I not expect the film to reflect Babylonian beliefs and values? As a Christian I may disagree strongly with those beliefs and find the values utterly contrary to God’s law, but surely that should not be surprising. Nor, if I am living in exile in Babylon, does it make sense to be offended that Babylonians act like Babylonians, or that they fail to make many films that reflect the beliefs and values of Jerusalem. In fact, I should not be surprised if they make films that deride the beliefs and values of Jerusalem—after all, this is Babylon.

The model of living in exile thus helps clarify why we might want to watch Babylonian films, even though they do not reflect the beliefs and values of Jerusalem. The fact that Babylonians make art that reflects their world and life view should be seen as an opportunity. We need windows of insight into the Babylonian culture, and points of contact in order to launch discussion of the big questions of life, and Babylonian art is one place where both can be found. Besides, one need not be a believer to make good films, just as an author need not be a Christian to write fine fiction, full of insight into life in a fallen world.

The model of living in exile also clarifies why reacting negatively to Babylonian films can be so counterproductive. To be reactionary when Babylonians do what Babylonians do erects walls between them and us, when our concern should be to enter their lives with love and friendship, until we have earned the right to share the gospel. It is hard to live in exile, hard to be surrounded by people who do not share our deepest convictions. It is much easier to be reactionary in Babylon, and more satisfying too, because being offended by them makes us feel so very righteous. Besides, it is disappointing to be stuck in Babylon when what we really want is to live in Jerusalem. It is hard work to find creative and winsome ways to translate the gospel into terms they will understand. It requires discipline to develop skill in discernment, and single-mindedness to nurture biblical literacy in the midst of the busyness that presses in on us. It takes time and energy—and perhaps a great deal of study and thinking—to give honest answers to honest questions. It takes patience to refrain from giving answers to questions they have not yet asked, and which they cannot yet appreciate or receive. It takes perseverence to love sinners whose sin we find repugnant, and humility to remember that our sin seems less wicked only because it is ours.

If we are living in exile, we are not here by chance. God has called us to serve him here, in this place, and not in another. In the same way the Jewish exiles were convinced that it was God’s hand that took them to Babylon (see Daniel 1:2), so we have been called to be faithful in a pluralistic and postmodern world.

Seeing ourselves as living in exile will help us better understand what that faithfulness consists of.

But What About…?
If the model of living in exile is appropriate, it would be wise to look more closely
at the experience of the Old Testament people of God in Babylon to see what we can learn from them. What instructions did Jeremiah give in his letter to the exiles in Babylon? How did Daniel and his three friends model faithfulness as they lived out their lives in exile from Jerusalem?

To be continued…

~Denis Haack is the author of The Rest of Success: What the World Didn’t Tell You About Having It All and has written articles for such journals as Reformation & Revival Journal, Eternity, Covenant, and World. He holds a Master of Arts in Theological Studies degree from Covenant Seminary in St. Louis. More of his work can be found at www.ransomfellowship.org.