The Problem with Lateral Converts

By "lateral convert" I mean someone who moves from one branch of Christianity to another: Catholics who become Protestants (and vice versa), Protestants or Catholics who become Orthodox (and vice versa again), and so on. I may explain my own view of ecclesiology at some point, but for now I'll just say that I consider the main groups just mentioned valid forms of Christianity; I just don't consider any of them the One True Church.

Anyway, my own background is Protestant--Evangelical and Pentecostal, in fact--but I make a point of learning from other Christians. My theology is actually closer to Eastern Orthodox than Protestant in many ways, and I have studied Catholic and Orthodox positions as well as those of other Protestant groups. Within Protestantism, my best match would probably be a conservative Methodist group.

End of disclosure.

The problem is that in studying these various groups, I tend to run into converts from some other group who have gone the True Believer route. (Note: I am not a particular fan of Hoffer's, though some of his points are valid.) This is particularly annoying when one of them starts pontificating about what some group, usually the one he left, believes.

They are typically wrong.

This leads to an observation: the lateral converts I've encountered (personally or through media) tend to be ignorant of the beliefs they left behind. The Catholics-turned-Protestant I've met have been remarkably ignorant of Catholic doctrine. The Protestants-turned-whatever regularly demonstrate abysmal ignorance of Protestant views, often lumping very different groups together.

Even the scholars goof. I've recently encountered people who ought to know better claiming that the Protestant idea of "sola fides" (salvation by faith alone) meant a rejection of works of any kind: just believe you're saved; you don't have to live out your salvation. But anyone familiar with Protestantism can trace the opposite view easily, from Philipp Melancthon ("Sola fides iustificat, sed fides non est sola"--"Faith alone justifies, but faith is not alone") to the modern idea that "if you're gonna talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk." And I frequently hear Protestants claim that Catholics (more rarely Orthodox) believe in salvation by works. (Properly speaking, they don't.)

Nicodemus asked the Sanhedrin, "Does our law condemn anyone without first hearing him to find out what he is doing?" (John 7:51) It's still a good question--even if you're talking about the group you left.

The Wrong Gospel?

No, this isn't a theological rant about goofed-up evangelists. It's something of practical use for anyone who runs into the occasional new Christian or even an unsaved enquirer. I am going to challenge established wisdom, however.

Specifically: Where do you tell such people to begin reading the Bible?

There are two obvious answers, and for most people they're both wrong.

1. Start in Genesis and keep going. This can kind of work, though I would recommend a very entry-level Bible. Though I generally dislike the New Living Translation, it's not a bad choice for someone who knows nothing whatever about the Bible. (He should graduate to a better translation after going through NLT once or twice, however.)

The problem is that while this gives a good background--too many Christians know nothing about the Old Testament--it gets the reader to the Gospels rather late. That brings us to Option Two:

2. Read the Gospel of John. No. Seriously no. Why not?

a. While the language of John is fairly simple (it is a good starting point for reading Greek, though the Johannine Epistles are even better), the content is not. There are several theological digressions that will probably lose most beginners.

b. It isn't one of the synoptics, which should probably be read as a group and early on.

c. It doesn't set up for the rest of the New Testament very well. This is important, and I'll come back to it.

Other Options. Let's go in usual order:

Matthew. Begins with a genealogy. (What fun! Beginners should ignore genealogies.) Takes a first-century Jewish standpoint, which will mislead a lot of twenty-first-century Jews, much less Gentiles, given the shifts in Judaism over the millennia.

Mark. Strong action and short, but the alternate ending could throw some people. The resurrection is covered a little too briefly.

Luke. By process of elimination, this is my preference. Why? Luke was as close to a modern historian/biographer as you can find in the NT, and he was writing evidently for a Gentile audience with minimal knowledge of the OT. That said, he gives a good feel for OT writing in the first chapter or so. The teaching/action balance is good. (It does have a genealogy, and beginners should skip it or skim it, but at least you've got a handle on the story by then.)

But the most important reason to begin with Luke is Acts. Luke prepares the reader for Acts, which gives early church history and provides background for the epistles (especially Paul's). Once someone has read Luke and Acts, he should be ready to start looking at the epistles and the OT. In fact, he can get a study Bible and some reading plan and go to it at this point.

Next up, I'll explain how I would approach the Bible as a whole.

The Appalling Alternative

Paul's own view of evangelism and of the Gospel is straightforward: rely on the power of God, not human gimmicks. Let's review 1 Corinthians 1:17-2:5 again:

1:17--If in preaching the Gospel we rely on human wisdom (and scientific proof is a form of human wisdom), we are emptying the cross of Christ of its power. Do we really want to do that?
1:18-31--Those who reject the Gospel will consider it foolishness anyway; it is part of God's judgment on intellectual pride. If an intellectual is seeking God and asks an honest question, it is reasonable to answer it. This is one of the valid uses of apologetics. But we do not "prove" the Gospel.
2:1-5--We do not use human means and arguments to convince people; we simply display the power of God to them, so they will rely on God, not on Man.

Now, some may be frightened by the idea of evangelizing through God's power, because it sounds sensational in its own right: What do we do--heal the sick and raise the dead? Well, if that's how God uses you, yes; but for most of us, it involves living supernaturally. When we love other people no matter what they do to us, when we put others first and generally exhibit a Christlike character, this will provoke wonder and praise to God from those who watch us (Matthew 5:14-16 [good works]; John 13:35 [mutual love]; 1 Peter 3:1-2 [godly conduct], among many others). People who do these things consistently from the heart (rather than ocassionally and legalistically) are supernaturally empowered by God; they are the type of witnesses he wants.

Will we do this? Most of us will not; it is easier to memorize a few factoids than to let God radically change our hearts so that our very lives testify to his existence and power. And we can take credit for studying all these obscure topics! Sometimes, instead of emphasizing the treasure of God placed in our clay jars (2 Corinthians 4:7), we polish up the jars. Jesus said we should clean up the inside rather than just polish the outside (Luke 11:39-41).

Unfortunately the trend is toward spectacular teachings and away from the ones Jesus considered useful or even vital. We spend more time on eschatology and sensational proofs of scripture than on actually reading the Bible and letting the Holy Spirit apply it to our lives. I would suggest that we need to shelve the weird stuff for a while and concentrate on the basics, especially since the people we have reached with a version of the Gospel seem so poorly grounded.

You might think that all this means that we should never stir from basic issues. It does not. The problem is not that we have doctrinal differences and our own interpretations of scripture; it is that we take these things too seriously, as though they were themselves basic. Denominational distinctives should be taught in a church--though it would be a good idea to let people know that other views exist in areas that are not essential. And if people want to debate Creation Science versus theistic evolution, or even talk about prophecy, fine--though I'd be leery of doing such a thing during church. When there are new Christians and potential converts around, stick to the basics. More experienced Christians should discuss fringe areas among themselves. In this way, we can continue to explore whatever topics strike our fancy without endangering or warping new believers.

Will we learn to live out Romans 14, and put God and his family ahead of our own speculations and prejudices (even keeping our bright ideas to ourselves--Romans 14:22)? Or will we continue to do things our way--and wonder why the Spirit of God goes elsewhere?

The Limits of Argument

Wise adage #1: Heinlein said that man is not a rational animal but a rationalizing animal. That's often true. So when we try to address a spiritual matter from an intellectual standpoint, we're likely to run into rationalizations. Argument assumes that the other person is roughly neutral, willing to change views if shown he's in error.

It doesn't work.

Most people are where they are by choice--even a negative choice like being too lazy to check their childhood beliefs carefully. So when you inform someone that's he's wrong, you're telling him to change. Hardly anyone welcomes that.

Wise adage #2: A man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still. Even if you win the argument, you won't necessarily win the soul. Francis Schaeffer sought to avoid this problem by finding the "point of tension" in the other's beliefs: any time you disagree with God, you're out of synch with Reality. So there will always be a point where your stated beliefs and your actions conflict. And it won't be a case like the Christian who sins and admits it: it will be a fundamental disharmony.

It can get someone thinking when you topple his worldview like a house of cards. By God's grace he may even repent. But he's at least as likely to change to some other falsehood--less effort.

Wise adage #3: What you win someone with is what you win him to. If you win them with glitz, you win them over to a show-biz version of your view. If you win them with fear, dangling them over Hell, you'll win them to fear--and as soon as it's gone, they'll follow.

So with argument. All kidding aside, it's about proving that you're smarter than the other guy--even if you're only parroting someone else's argument.

Paul dealt with this in 1 Corinthians 1:17-2:5. It opens, "For Christ did not send me to baptize, but to preach the gospel--not with words of human wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power." And it concludes (2:1-5), "When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power."

So what's the purpose of apologetics? We'll look at that next time.

Did We Bomb Hitler With Antimatter?

A Dialog Between Lunatics:

Looney 1: We ended World War Two by dropping an antimatter bomb on Hitler.
Looney 2: We did not! That's not how the war ended at all.
Looney 1: So, you're saying that antimatter doesn't exist! But it's a proven fact that it does.
Looney 2: No, it doesn't.

Take a look at that for a moment. Why are they both nuts? Well, Bachelor #2 could have gotten off the Looney Express as follows:

Looney: So, you're saying that antimatter doesn't exist! But it's a proven fact that it does.
Non-Looney: It doesn't matter whether antimatter exists. Historically, we did not end the war by bombing Hitler.

Now at this point the first guy would probably continue to rant, but at least the second one would have established his sanity.

What does this have to do with the Creation/Evolution debate?

Looney 1: We got here through purposeless biological evolution.
Looney 2: We did not! That's not how we got here at all.
Looney 1: So, you're saying that evolution doesn't occur! But it's a proven fact that it does.
Looney 2: No, it doesn't.

Now, with sanity:

Looney: So, you're saying that evolution doesn't occur! But it's a proven fact that it does.
Non-Looney: It doesn't matter whether evolution occurs. Historically, we did not get here by evolution.

The problem is that people on the Creation side let themselves get bogged down about whether evolution is possible. But that doesn't matter. Consider: if someone proved that a new species (not a subspecies) had evolved, would that really prove anything about how we got here? No. (If one could prove that evolution can't happen, that would settle the matter, but it's notoriously difficult to prove a negative.)

Yet I have actually known of people who claim that the Bible somewhere says that evolution is impossible. (It doesn't. Seriously.) Focusing on biological evolution is largely a red herring. While I personally take Gen 1 as literal history, some Christians don't. That should at least move us to caution.

In the next post, I'll look at what does matter--the point we should be arguing. (Some are arguing it already, in fact.) And then we'll consider why even that is only of secondary importance.

Buddhists, Not Buddhism

I recently had an abortive discussion with someone who was determined to research matters normally off-limits to Christians. The idea was to reach out to those involved.

I can relate to that. My introduction to theology came when one of my best friends went from nominal Baptist to red-hot Mormon. So I studied Mormonism and assailed it and him with my amazing intellect.

It didn't work.

For one thing, reaching people for God is a spiritual activity, so it's a mistake to rely on intellectual methods such as research. (Research isn't bad; it's just not enough.)

But the major problem is focus. I was not called to evangelize Mormonism; I had a chance to reach a specific Mormon. God generally calls us to deal with individuals more than groups, and groups more than systems. The higher up you go, the more abstract it all gets. An individual can accept Christ; a group can't (though its members can). A system can't be saved.

Kosuke Koyama is a Japanese theologian with an interest in missionary work. In his book Water Buffalo Theology, he says that one of the mistakes missionaries to Buddhist countries make is studying Buddhism when they should study Buddhists. But the system is only important so far as it enables the missionary to reach the system's follower. So why not study the one you want to reach?

In Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, C. S. Lewis wrote that it's easier to pray for a bore than to visit one. Isn't this the same thing? Isn't it easier to study Buddhism or Mormonism than to get to know actual Buddhists or Mormons? Study people!