John H Armstrong

"Propostional" Truth, "Objective" Truth and the Debate About What We Know and How We Know It

God chose to reveal himself ultimately through Jesus Christ. This does not mean, however, that he did not also use words. Jesus is the ultimate "truth" but this does not mean there is no other truth source. We encounter Christ via revelation but this comes through the Holy Scriptures. This involves both our mind and our heart. I have said the same over and over again but some still think I am saying something that I am not saying thus they regularly challenge my approach to theology and truth. Several comments that have appeared recently on the posts made on this site have chosen to hear me only with an epistemology that is modern and, in my judgment, very flawed. It would take a course in epistemology to sort all this out and this is not the place to teach such a course. I would suggest the following readings with which I have a great degree of sympathy:

1. Who's Afraid of Postmodernism? James K. A. Smith (Baker)

2. How Postmodernism Serves (My) Faith, Crystal L. Downing (IVP)

3. The Myth of Certainty, Daniel Taylor (IVP)

4. Longing to Know: The Philosophy of Knowledge for Ordinary People, Esther Lightcap Meek (Brazos)

5. The Drama of Doctrine, Kevin J. Vanhoozer (Westminster/John Knox)

These books will give you a very good insight into how I am using terms and why philosophy cannot be divorced (entirely) from these commonly used words that we all assume have a meaning we completely agree upon as Christians.

There are two elephants in the room: truth and proposition. Truth, fundamentally, comes only from the One who is Truth. It is rooted in revelation. Human ideas never perfectly conform to that Truth, never. Truth is grace, truth comes by grace, never by reason. This is basic to my epistemology.

Commonly this debate is reduced to the use of another term by some conservative evangelicals: "objective truth." D. A. Carson, as one example, says "Objective truth is a category that both historic Christianity and the Bible itself have always insisted on" (Becoming Conversant with the Emerging Church, 126). Really? This, I believe, is simply not the case at all. The Scriptures themselves give us excellent reasons to think otherwise yet at the same time the Scriptures openly affirm the reality of truth and of vital saving knowledge again and again. Carson, as James K. A. Smith correctly notes, "conflates truth with objectivity" and by this Carson argues that one can only be said to "truly" know if one knows "objectively." Carson admits that we have only finite knowledge but he equates this with "objective" knowledge. Interestingly, Carson never defines, at least in the book Becoming Conversant with the Emergent Church, objectivity. (This is quite an oversight but one I believe that is also made by many who read and debate these things via blogs).

James K. A. Smith, a professor of philosophy at Calvin College, concludes: "His (i.e., Carson's) affirmation of finite knowledge always elides into an affirmation of objective knowledge. Although he does not define objectivity . . . he clearly means this to carry some connotation of self-evident givenness: if truth is objective, then it is not a matter of interpretation" (Who's Afraid of Postmodernism, James K. A. Smith, 43).

I confess that I find Carson's claims full of serious holes. The gospel is an interpretation. I think this statement is inescapably true. What is wrong here is to assume, as some postmoderns really in fact do, that this means the gospel and orthodoxy are unjustified assumptions built upon false premises. This I fervently repudiate.

Generally Christians who hold on to the notion of "objective truth" are concerned that something cannot be truly known if it is not "objectively" knowable. If I assert that truth is interpretation then they believe we are then in real trouble. So a truth claim must be universally true in so far as it can be universally known by all people, at all times and in all places. Thus, as in classical apologetics, it is generally argued that we can prove the gospel to be true objectively by rational demonstrations. This I reject.

This entire debate is built on a theory of knowledge. Everyone needs to admit this before they throw bombs about at other confessing orthodox Christians. But this simple admission is almost never understood by ordinary folks. They hear these words (objective, propositional, etc.) used by their ministers and then assume that when someone doesn't affirm the universal use of terms like "objective" truth or "propositional" truth they reject orthodoxy and truth.

For a little interesting exercise ask your minister, the next time you hear these terms used, "What do you mean by objective truth?" You will soon discover that the answers will generally vary quite widely. Most are simply trying to say that the truth is not discovered through mystical experience but from Scripture by the work of the Holy Spirit, an answer I completely agree with. But then ask, "What do you mean by mystical experience?" You will find all kinds of wide-ranging responses. Evangelical rationalism is alive and well.

This is how some seem to respond to my own words, though charity leads me to say that this "appears" to be the case. This is clearly the way John MacArthur, and a few other similar critics in print, have openly responded to my work on theological method and epistemology. They assume that I am denying truth. This assumption is patently false and they refuse to do much more than make these assertions and then leave it at that. What I deny is the blatant use of any method that says truth is self-evident or universally provable and demonstrable. This is why I employ the Christian term "mystery," not because I am a mystic or persuaded by illogical arguments.

If the gospel is an interpretation then this does not mean the gospel is false. The NT narratives make it quite clear that not everyone who saw the miracles and heard Jesus teach understood the truth of who he was in the same way. They encountered the same person and heard the same truths but they still had to interpret what they saw and heard. This is why revelation must always be closely linked to this discussion. In the end this is really Reformed epistemology and faithful to Calvin more than to evangelical modernism and the arguments being made by some of my critics.

Some who post have asked me a number of questions. I have provided a framework for my thought process, but not explicit answers. Am I dodging the questions. The tone of these posts suggests that I am. We are back to the notion that I am hiding something and thus I am dangerous.

Do I believe in inspiration? Of course I do. Do I believe the Bible is trustworthy? Most certainly. And where does anyone ever get the idea that I am suggesting we cannot rely upon written Scripture? I never asserted anything of the kind, not even close. The reason I do not answer all of these suspicious questions is that they reveal the questioner doesn't understand what I am actually saying and wants to prove me wrong by using a check list of various "objective" truths. We have a different theological method but I doubt we disagree about the core truths of Christianity at all. So why bother? For one reason, we need a more humble approach to knowing if we are to be effective in the world we now find ourselves in. (I am not calling my opponents arrogant people! Read the statement clearly.)

We can know God in Jesus Christ with deep assurance. We can know this with our minds and our hearts both. What I deny is the kind of certitude that is associated with modernistic philosophy, which is in the background of a great deal of "evangelical" epistemology, thus my repeated statements about "we" and so forth.

Again, I am happy to say more, time permitting, but interested and fair-minded readers can see that I am not denying the truth of confessional Christianity in the least but rather denying some of the ways we argue for it and about it. I reject the method of many conservatives, and their epistemology, but not the faith in any meaningful sense.

Labels Can Be Libel

A recent conversation resulted in a brother telling me that: “Labels are libel.” I fear there is more truth in this aphorism that most of us would care to admit.

Technically libel is: “A published false statement damaging to a person’s reputation.” It is very difficult to prove in a court of law and rarely is a person successful in a case regarding libel. Free speech is a valued liberty in our society and rightly so.

But a secondary definition says libel is “a false or defamatory oral or written statement; a thing that brings discredit by misrepresentation.” This definition carries with it the idea of accusing falsely and/or maliciously.

So, are labels sometimes a form of libel? To my mind it depends entirely upon the context. If I am called a Calvinist, for example, it could be a form of libel or it could be an accurate statement. It depends entirely on the person using the label and what they intend by using it. Often this label does turn out to be libel in terms of personal relationships and real honesty. By using a shorthanded way of referencing a very small portion of what I believe you have shut down all further communication about a lot of other things I also believe, or do not believe. If the term Calvinist means “rabidly devoted to promoting and arguing for the five points of Calvinism” then I rather dislike the term since I have no interest in such practice. If the term means that I am deeply committed to a high view of divine sovereignty and human responsibility both, then I rather like the label. With it comes a great deal of mystery that I am willing to embrace while I keep seeking to work out a host of difficult issues that are related to biblical theology and life's meaning.

Let me take another term, a label used often with regard to me personally: “Postmodern.” If you really want to finish off someone you are committed to exposing as a false teacher then call them “postmodern,” or some similar label. (You don't even have to use the label itself, just place the person into a discussion about postmodernism and the job is more subtly done.) Don’t bother to have or give a clear definition of what is meant by postmodern, or the various ways the term has been used in the past two or three decades, but use the label. You have accomplished your goal---marginalizing a serious discussion and libeling a person who has a series of more complex ideas about that discussion. The person so labeled becomes damaged goods and all discussion can then be stopped. In my case, since I am a public person, thus labels are used to discredit me or to warn people to stay far away from me. This is the part of this business that hurts the most deeply to be truthful. But to retain an honest and credible public witness requires a person to face this kind of thing and move on without rancor or remorse.

So, I have to agree with my brother's simple comment. Often, labels are a form of libel. If I really want to treat people, especially other Christians, with basic dignity and civility I will generally do that best by trying to avoid the use of the labels we employ to categorize or libel others. This requires me to use words like “fundamentalist,” and related labels, with much more care. I find this difficult when I want to summarize an argument I read or hear. I can do the same with the label words "liberal" or "conservative."

It is not easy to communicate without using some labels. They prove to be shorthand and sometimes they are quite useful. Christian love demands that we all work very hard at not becoming libelous in our writing and speech. When I cross the line I am willing to be corrected and to make changes. Caveat emptor!

A Postmodern U2 Worship Experience

Like it or not, U2 and lead singer Bono, are a huge success. They are not only a huge media success, and have sold millions of CDs, but they are having an even bigger impact upon the world for the cause of social justice and AIDS awareness in Africa. This phenomenon is not just about the music of U2, though their music has a power and an appeal that is unique.

Last evening my local congregation in Carol Stream, The Lutheran Church of the Master, hosted a U2 Eucharist. This service was the first of a new postmodern congregational gathering called Nexus, which will meet once a month on the second Sunday evening. The context for this “journey” was the music of U2 combined with many ancient practices of the Christian Church. And the band, a local Chicago group called Vertigo, was a pretty good U2 knock-off group. 

This U2 Eucharist included strobe lightning, very loud music and the popular songs of Bono’s famous band that speak of deeply spiritual themes: “Pride,” “I Don’t Know the Way,” “I Still Haven’t Found What I Am Looking For,” and the famous song, “One.” The service also included an excellent sermon by my friend Pastor Tom Lyberg titled: “I’ve Already Been One—I Want to Be Five.” He began with the story of a children’s sermon in which a minister spoke about the oneness of the church and kept repeating that we are all one. A little boy stood up, all of four years of age, and said, “Pastor, I’ve already been one, I just want to be five.” Tom used John 14:1-14 and 17:20-23 to illustrate how Jesus desired our oneness and that it was sin, or a breakdown in relationship with God and one another, that destroyed the oneness the human family had once enjoyed. Now our problem is that we all just want to be five, no longer one.

Tom’s message was simple, clear and presented in language that postmoderns could clearly understand. Long-time church goers, especially from rigid culturally conservative backgrounds, would not have liked the sermon or the setting last night. But that is precisely the point. The whole service was aimed at the U2 generation, not at older Christians. And it worked very well. Tonight Tom has also planned a special meeting place at a nearby Irish Pub (a fitting place since U2 is an Irish band) so the conversation that was created by Nexus last night can continue.

The Chicago Tribune did a front-page story on churches singing the gospel according to U2 in the Sunday edition. (Fox News also covered the event, as did WGN in Chicago by way of an interview.) The Tribune noted that this phenomenon is sweeping the country. Margaret Ramirez noted in this Tribune article: “Evangelical Christians have long used pop music and rock bands as part of worship. But U2 has emerged as the first secular rock ‘n’ roll band to be embraced so enthusiastically by clergy—predominantly mainline Protestants—trying to re-energize their flocks.”

For those who think this is a compromise with the world listen to these poetic and lyrical words form Bono’s song “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”

You broke the bonds
And you loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Of my shame
You know I believed it.

Typical U2 Eucharistic celebrations include songs like “Yahweh” and “40” based on Psalm 40 and Psalm 6. Tom Lyberg told the Tribune: “It’s part of the faith discussion. It’s listening for faith music on the radio and making it an everyday experience. It’s taking worship from being a one-hour appointment on Sunday to a more lasting experience with God.”

In the book, One Step Closer to God: Why U2 Matters to Those Seeking God, author Christian Scharen, himself a minister, tells how the band met in high school when all but one of the members was already a Christian. In the early years reporters often spoke of finding the band studying the Bible after a concert. Bono, the ultimate ecumenist in one sense, was raised by a Protestant mother and a Roman Catholic father. He has frequently criticized church leaders for their failure to respond adequately to the crisis in Africa. He also refuses to call his band a “Christian rock band.” Says Bono: “Music is the language of the spirit anyway. Its first function is praise to creation.” Many of U2’s songs speak of faith in more subtle ways than some Christians would prefer. Scharen has noted, for example, that dozens of U2 songs speak of “you” when the band is clearly referring to God. The song that Vertigo sang between the two readings from John’s gospel last evening was titled “Gloria.” This is a love song to God. One line actually says: “Only in you I’m complete.”

The high point of the service, following the preaching of the Word, was “Crossroads,” an experiential opportunity to explore and experience some of the disciplines of Jesus, including communion, a prayer station, a confession place, an offering (without money), and a healing service including anointing with oil, which is ancient Christian practice. I led this part of the Crossroads time, lasting about twenty minutes or so. I anointed and prayed for at least 40 or more people in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The line became so long that two others came to assist me. Some came for physical healing, some for prayer about their addictions, some for family relational healing, some asking for the Spirit’s power to control anger, others for healing of the mind and their soul from deep longstanding pain, including in one case a troubling battle with thoughts about suicide. I experienced the power of God’s grace upon me as I anointed people with the sign of the cross and prayed over them with the love of Christ. When the time was all over I then asked Tom Lyberg to anoint me and to pray and he asked the same of me. I think we both experienced God’s grace in a fresh and deep way. I awoke this morning deeply and profoundly refreshed in my soul.

Pastor Tom ended the evening by reminding us that Martin Luther wanted people in the 16th century to understand the Eucharist and the sermon in their own language and thus he concluded, “It was fitting tonight that a Lutheran Church offered this service of praise to God in the language that many of you speak and understand.” Some will see this as mere marketing and commercialization, a newer version of the older “seeker” church worship format. I see it quite differently and believe Pastor Tom got it right about Luther.

All in all, I am not personally ready to make Nexus my regular place for worship. (I would take earplugs next time and I will go again!) But I am deeply impressed that this service touched lives powerfully and that it will be used to bring many young people further along the road that will lead them to a dynamic and living faith in Christ. It will, I believe, be one more instrument in the growing ways that the modern church can reach out to postmodern young people to communicate the gospel in a language that they can clearly understand. I thank God for the vision of Pastor Tom Lyberg and his leadership of The Lutheran Church of the Master.

Further Reflections on Postmodernism and the Problem of Certainty

A friend wrote a private question about my references to certainty in recent posts. The concept of certainty is heavily philosophical. I am not praising doubt, or unbelief. Dietrich Bonhoeffer expressed my central point well when he wrote: “Jesus Christ alone is the certainty of faith.” What this means is that our various systems of faith are not the truth! They may help point us to the One who is the truth but when we invest the idea of final and absolute truth in these systems we create the very problems I am writing about. This leads to the idolatry of ideas, so prevalent in my generation. Young postmodern Christians are pushing back on this very point and I agree with them in their “push back.”

Further, there is “a vast ocean of what we do not know and do not understand,” wrote the late Lesslie Newbigin. This is major component of what I am arguing for in a positive way via my comments about how postmodernity can specifically help us. I have expressed strong reservations about postmodernity but then I also have strong reservations about modernity too. What amazes me is that so many in my generation want to defend modernity as if it has served Christian faith so well over the last four hundred-plus years.

Yet my comments could be taken in ways that are not faithful to my real intentions. A true friend wrote: “I understand your hesitation regarding ‘absolute’ or ‘infallible’ certainty. However, I have no hesitation whatsoever, and I hope you don’t either, in saying that a ‘professing’ Christian who denies the Incarnation of Christ is ‘preaching another gospel.’” Well, of course I have no hesitation at all. (I think those who read me carefully will see that I don't and those who do not see this will find fault where they will.) Such a “false gospel” surely denies truths like the complete deity and humanity of Christ, his substitutionary atonement for sin (though particular theories of the work of the atonement are still open to further exploration), and his bodily resurrection. If Christ was not God, did not die in our place, and was not “raised for our justification” then we have no gospel.

The problem I was addressing in these several blogs occurs when various polemicists tell us they know who does not love Christ and thus who is not a real Christian. This happens because of inter-Christian differences over the exact nature of justification, right views of the sacraments, the nature and place of authority in the church, etc. By these means anti-Catholics regularly tell their followers that no Catholic could be a real Christian since Rome preaches a “false gospel.” (If they are real believers then they will [indeed must] leave the Catholic Church these folks insist!) This type of approach is found among some very traditional Catholics, who reject all Protestants as schismatics and anti-Catholic, see us as those who stand against Christ’s true church, thus the true gospel. But the problem is that this type of approach occurs far more often on the Protestant side, especially since Vatican II. Subsequent events, since the 1960s, have shown how Rome can and will engage other Christians correctly and with real charity. Thankfully, mainstream Protestant evangelicals have entered this dialogue more recently and refuse to employ the old rhetoric and vituperative response of their past. The sad fact is that anti-Catholicism is still strong in some of Reformed and evangelical circles. Because I regularly say this I create new opportunities for personal and Internet opposition almost daily.

Finally, I am most definitely not saying that postmodernity has made it impossible for the church to describe or reject anti-gospel teachers, and their heresies, as “in the wrong”. As my friend puts it so well: “Not only are such folk ‘bad guys,’ they are energized by the spirit of antichrist (1 John 4:1ff.).”

My reference to the “good guys” and “bad guys” lists was in view of the kinds of lists (usually informal of course) made by anti-Catholics who do this kind of thing all the time if you read their books and blogs. Some in the Reformed community even continue to do it with regard to Arminians and sundry other “heretics” that they regularly attack. These polemicists spend countless hours attacking Bill Hybels, Rick Warren, Robert Schuller, Joel Osteen, etc. (I have questioned the policies and opinions of all four of these gentlemen but I do not treat them as avowed heretics in the process!) This is the kind of misuse of Galatians 1:6-9 that I had in mind, not the correct use of this important text when used in a proper context. Since I work within mainline Protestant churches regularly I assure you that I do believe in heresy and I am more than willing to point it out when I see it. I also assure you that I have not become weak on the gospel, just more open to see it confessed by people I would not have had the time of day for a decade ago. Unless you are prepared to say that we are all finally saved by "right ideas" of doctrine (which some clearly are saying) then I do not see how you can conclude anything less.

Some Questions About My Openness to Postmodernity

In a comment placed on my blog of November 15 on "How Postmodernity Serves Faith" a respondent (Martin Downes) asked me three specific questions that I wish to answer in the form of a new blog. I do this because the answer, I sincerely hope, is worthy of others reading it and responding to it as they wish. You can find the three questions on the comments section posted on the November 15 entry. Here are my answers:

1. My understanding of the deadliness and seriousness of heresy has actually deepened over the last ten years. What has changed even more profoundly is my unwillingness to apply the term to anyone who holds a view that differs from the conservative Reformed tradition, which is only four plus centuries old confessionally. (By the way I remain a Reformed thinker and I am comfortable with the tradition, being a Reformed minister. At the same time I am willing to question the system since it is human. I have challenged it at several points and come to new views about how to embrace the whole Christian Tradition more completely and faithfully. My approach is seen as "liberal" by some, an unfortunate use of the term liberal to say the least.) To say, as some do, that "heresy is a belief or teaching that contradicts Scripture and Christian theology" (Millard Erickson, Concise Dictionary of Christian Theology) is way too broad to be of meaningful use in the give and take of real church life. If you apply this view you will be treating every doctrinal error that you encounter as "heresy" and the results will be pretty grim in terms of healthy church life. The Greek term, as used in the NT, referred to a "different opinion." It took on specific content in early church formation and referred to "deviant opinions which were opposed to the normative teaching of the church." A person can hold some bad doctrine and not be a heretic. A person can also hold what appears to be a rather minor error, at least at first glance, and become a heretic if they become divisive and seek to draw people to their errors so as to oppose the Great Tradition of the Christian faith. This is the real battle in our day, as it was in other days too.

2. Galatians 1:6-9 refers to a "real" error and I do believe we can know such errors when we see them. I further believe that you have sadly misunderstood my comments about certainty. We can know error(s) but not infallibly. What we have done incorrectly with Galatians 1:6-9 is assure ourselves that we know exactly who is and is not "preaching another gospel." We then become quite sure that we are in the right and everyone else is in the wrong. We can then create a list of the bad guys and build an entire ministry on such opposition. Many groups do this and some conservative ministers are very good at it. I was one such person and I have said so only to be attacked for now attacking others, a charge I reject. In fact, what I am doing is confessing that I did this myself but few who remonstrate with my views seem to read me carefully on this point. (Several major public voices regularly use me as the prime example of how a person leaves the faith, sometimes citing my sympathy for Roman Catholics, while at other times seeing assorted heresies that they insist lead me to doubt about everything Christians ought to believe. I refuse to name these people or debate them since they have neither allowed me to answer any of their charges nor shown me simple civility.) Epistemic humility checks such assumptions without denying the reality of the actual problem of real damning errors.

Further, this business of determining heresy and heretics is a church matter to be properly decided on a communal basis. These issues are properly resolved in this context and not as a personal cut-and-slash strategy that uses blogs and pulpits to tell us who the bad guys are so we all are in the know. We have way too many folks running around with absolute certainty that they have every right to brand this person and that ministry as "heretical." We throw the phrase "preaching a false gospel" around at will and by this some do serious harm to the church in the process. My appeals are meant to urge a rethink of this whole approach.

3. I am accused of being hard on the leaders of my generation, in the third question, when it is suggested that I admit that I do not know with certainty who these people are or why they are wrong. This misses the points made in the blog and now cited above. First, I am not taking cheap shots at anyone in particular and I am not turning this into a personal diatribe. Second, I am speaking broadly of "my generation" and thus include myself, as I said above. Third, it is a simple matter of fact that my generation is deeply influenced by modernity and its interlocking system of ideas. Granted the rising younger generation is influenced by postmodernism and this presents real problems for them as well.

What I am really saying is that my generation is assured that it has things right and those who challenge our "certain" assumptions are simply wrong. There is little room for discussion and rethink among many of the conservative leaders in my generation and I can't change that by counter attack but try to do so by urging openminded readers to rethink this approach. This is a pretty obvious conclusion that most readers of this blog understand or they would not be reading me in the first place. (Some seem to read me to find the errors that they can then use to warn others of my dangerous errors!) I have not found many evangelicals in my "boomer" age group terribly interested in dialogue with postmoderns, something I am deeply committed to personally without buying into every aspect of the postmodern critique of culture and religion.

It seems odd to have to keep saying this but I have clearly been wrong and I am sure I will be wrong again. But when I am shown my errors, and the Spirit makes them apparent to me (which happens far too often for my comfort level) I repent. This simply makes many people unhappy and it makes me look like an unsafe teacher of the faith. I see these blogs as a way to think aloud and teach. They then allow push-back and correction. I think if you read my blogs, or read them at least for a month or so, you will see this going on all the time.

When I was growing up as a younger minister I was told by influential conservatives that they had never changed their mind (at least not substantially) on any important doctrine. Wow, what strength I thought! Well, I have changed my mind and I admit it. This makes me weak I suppose. But this has freed me and it has brought some unusual pain at the same time. I do have real soul liberty and thus I live as a truly free man serving Christ with a clear conscience. I also love Christians wherever I meet them. If this is wrong then I plead guilty. I think this is the obvious meaning of Romans 14:4: "Who are you to judge someone else's servant? To their own master they they stand or fall."

How Postmodernity Serves Faith

Postmodernism is discussed and debated in almost every church-related setting in our day. Part of me wonders if this is simply the church catching up to a philosophy that has come and gone. Another part of me, the part that believes something significant has clearly shifted in Western thought, believes postmodernism is here to stay, at least for the foreseeable future.

What is postmodernism? This is part of the problem. It is notoriously hard to define but I would say that it was a term first appropriated by German and French philosophers to designate the criticism of reason which had come to be regarded as a universal and certain foundation for knowledge and morality in modern culture. (The target of postmodernism appears to be the thought of Kant.) What postmodernism deeply questions is whether or not reason can establish a complete and coherent system of thought.

What does this have to do with the Christian gospel? Many suggest that it means postmodernism is the avowed enemy of the gospel in every possible way. I am not so sure. I am not a champion for postmodernism but I think it can be used to help us rethink our way of thinking and stating Christian truth claims. The gospel is an unchanging message for sure but the way we understand the gospel is not unchanging, thus I am inclined to believe that postmodernism can be used to help us understand the gospel in new and fresh ways. If modern culture distorts the gospel, which most agree that it has, then postmodernism can actually help us see some of our modern blind spots. But those who jump on this bandwagon need to understand that this new way of seeing is itself flawed. Newer ways of understanding and seeing reality are sure to come along. In any event, there is no room for hubris.

When I say we can learn from postmodernism how to better understand the gospel I mean simply that the postmodern critique of the limits of human knowledge is extremely valuable to gospel people. I grew up in an era that taught me that all my questions about the Bible and God’s reality could be answered through science and reason. For conservative Christians this meant that theology and Bible study could bring me to perfect knowledge. But as a limited and finite person I do not see all things the same way. Scripture makes it abundantly clear that I can only “see through a poor reflection as in a mirror” (1 Corinthians 13:12). My fallibility makes me question some things that I once thought I knew with certainty. I confess that I have a strong tug in my soul towards conceptual idolatry. It is this tug that many of the Christian leaders in my generation deny, or so it seems to me. In defending the gospel we conclude that we know the truth and by knowing the truth we stand with utter certainty against those who deny the truth we know. Having been the recipient of continual criticism from some who employ reason in this way I can tell you it divides the church, harms the soul, and creates “good guys and bad guys” in ways that are unlike the spirit of Christ.

Postmodernism is teaching me how to listen, how to question my previous assumptions and how to grow both intellectually and spiritually. I am not less certain of my faith in Christ, or maybe I could better say, I am not less certain of his life, death, burial and resurrection for me and for my faith. “Lord I believe, help my unbelief” still rings in my soul with very deep assurance.

Certitude Can Be Idolatrous

The most dangerous directions taken in history were undertaken by people who had a high level of certitude for both their views and choices. This is true of dictators and tyrants, as well as religious zealots, including some Christians.

There are several ways that we seek to justify what we believe. One is by using what we think is a reliable process. Another way is to show that the world is a more coherent place because of what I believe than it is without the truths that I believe. A third way, and the one I often question in my teaching, is to argue that what I believe is inferred from previous beliefs about how things seem to be right now. This is the approach of classic foundationalism. Foundationalism seeks to build one's beliefs upon a basic stucture that is foundational for everything else. It understands that there are indubitable beliefs from which further propositions can be inferred to produce a superstructure of known truths. Traditionally foundationalism forms beliefs about our sensory experience and then these beliefs are used to provide the basis for a superstructure of faith that is built upon the established foundation. But are these "beliefs" that make up this foundation infallible as is often claimed? That is always the sixty-four thousand dollar question.

In philosophy there are four sources of knowledge (traditionally speaking): sensation, memory, introspection and reason. When we make reason central, and in a way that leads us to believe that we know "the truth" as a complete system of humanly stated ideas, danger always lurks. For this reason many Christian philosophers and theologians are suggesting, now more than ever, that there are several types of certitude that have become graven ideologies (cf. Bruce Benson's book, Graven Ideologies [IVP], for some great insight on this subject). I happen to agree with this warning.

The most dangerous plans in history were carried out by people who were very certain of both themselves and their actions. Do you recall Saul of Tarsus persecuting devout Christians? Do you recall wars carried out in the name of Jesus Christ, the man of peace? Do you recall the church putting people to death because it was so certain that it was doing God's will?

Beware of the type of certainty that is built on a false foundation. Anyone who says "I know" should always say so with a great deal of humility about both their knowing process and the conclusions they reach about what they know. This does not mean we should become relativists. And it does not mean we should be filled with deep inner doubt. It simply means we should not make a system of belief into the "truth of God."

Knowing What You Believe in the Light of Postmodenrnity

During my college years the late InterVarsity staff member Paul Little wrote his little classic book, Know Why You Believe. It was a vintage, simple, and basic apologetic for the time. The idea was that there were a few (seven as I recall now) questions that any Christian should (and could) have a grasp of and through that grasp be equipped to respond to common objections made against the faith. This very simple approach freed many of us to feel confident that we could talk about the Lord openly, and with much more confidence, on the college campus.

Paul Little later wrote a book, far less well-known, titled Know What You Believe. The same idea prevailed. All of us should know the simple basics that Christians must believe if they are to understand and defend the faith.

Christians who truly believe the faith should plainly know what they believe. They should know what they believe about God, about Jesus, and about the Holy Spirit. They should know what they believe bout faith, about heaven and hell, and about the Bible. Make no mistake here, strong Christians do not waver back and forth about basic Christian doctrines. It does not serve Christian faith to live in continual doubt about the basic truths.

Modernity undermined the faith very directly in my college days. For this reason Little’s approach worked well. When converts came to know Christ they generally did so by embracing the Christian system whole, with very few remaining doubts in most cases since these were answered up front in many cases. Postmodernism, on the other hand, has the strong tendency to make young Christians waver in their faith long after they believe. It also tends to make doctrinal points less coherent in terms of any kind of systematic structure. This also has real weaknesses.

But we too often confuse strong faith with epistemic certainty, or strong knowledge of doctrine with a kind of modern argument for the faith. This is why the postmodern challenge to evangelicals is so important, for good and for ill. We not only know have been taught to know exactly what we believe but we have the tendency to embrace a kind of epistemic arrogance about how we know for sure what we believe. We say, "I know" and usually mean far more by "know" than what faith can truly claim this side of seeing Christ face-to-face.

What I would argue for is that evangelicals should become a people of bold humility in the face of this current postmodern challenge. If the sin of postmodernity is sloth, especially intellectual sloth, then the sin of my modernist generation is arrogance, especially intellectual arrogance about what we know and how we know it.

This was illustrated for me recently when a seminary professor friend told me of an ordination process that is all too common in some conservative Christian circles. One candidate knew the terrain of theology, and theological argumentation in general, quite well. He showed a general prowess and careful thought process. However, he missed a correct answer with regard to one point of doctrine in the interrogation section of the proceedure. The second candidate didn’t know the terrain well and thus did not have a wide angle grasp of the big picture of theology in terms of living and ministering in the present age. However, the second candidate did not miss a single question about a particular point of theological interrogation. The first candidate was rejected by the council while the second was accepted.

This council's response is a classic illustration of how a committee clung to certain notions of competence that are quite modern. It also reveals how we construct an epistemological box that we want people to fit into in order to prove that they are acceptable. Nothing illustrates the difference between the modern and postmodern approach to truth quite like this one.

A better approach to the above would be to retrain the second candidate in how to think, which will be a massive task in most cases. He will need a new way of seeing and thinking about how to study and present theology. The danger is that the second candidate already knows that he knows the answers and thus he will be hard to really correct. The hope is that twenty years in the ministry might knock this type of certainty out of him. In the first case, where a specific answer to a theological question was missed, the mind can be sharpened on a point of weakness and the results will be very positive. In most cases this can happen rather quickly. We need to help this first candidate to fill in a gap in knowledge about what to believe. If our demeanor is that of Christlike humility the first problem will be more desirable than the second, though both can and should be corrected so the church can have good servant leadership with proper intellectual preparation.

Thinking Evangelically About Postmodernity

I spent several hours, over the past two days, writing my next two Weekly Messengers, for June 27 and July 4. (You can subscribe at www.reformationrevival.com.) The subject of postmodernism (PM), and how ordinary Christians should think about this often overused, and even more often misunderstood, word is my subject. I hope I have said something that is fairly simple and practically useful. That is my goal in most such articles.

Kevin Vanhoozer, a prolific evangelical theologian at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School (IL), has recently written of the four ways we might respond to PM. He says we can:

1. Deny it, or ignore it. We can thus refuse to recognize that it has any importance or has any right to exist. He writes that, "Not a few Christians are in denial over postmodernity."

2. We can defy it, thereby seeking to show how it is a threat to our security and way of life. Vanhoozer adds, "Not a few Christians have (in my judgment) overreacted in this direction. To describe postmodernity as ‘the latest chapter in unbelief’ is both simplistic and self-serving." This is the approach I am particularly interested in debunking in my two articles. It is an approach that divides faithful Christians and puts a whole new set of labels on thoughtful Christians.

3. We can deify it. By this approach we concede the authority of PM because it is new, popular, thus better than whatever came before it, i.e., modernity, etc.. By this means a number of Christians have revisioned their philosophies and theologies in order to connect them with postmodern themes. This is the approach taken by liberal thinkers who find in PM a new way to deny the historic Christian faith.

4. We can enter into a serious discussion with postmodernity. The goal here is to "engage it in a mutually edifying conversation." I commend this approach.

Vanhoozer also suggests that this last approach is commendable. However he sees dangers in this strategy. He writes: "This strategy may have the disadvantage of playing into its (PM) hands. For conversations and rhetoric are largely what postmodernity is about. Yet the concern to make the faith intelligible to contemporary ears—call it ‘correlation,’ or the ‘apologetic’ impulse—stands in some tension with the impulse of faith to seek understanding on its own terms."

Vanhoozer urges us to be aware of our situatedness. We are situated within a particular culture and within our traditions and language. He wants us to be very clear about where we are going. The map he offers is the same one that I have come back to again and again, namely that written on the lining of Pascal’s famous jacket. There the brilliant thinker put a fragment of paper that simply read: "God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Not the god of the philosophers." Vanhoozer rightly concludes that "What the world needs now is a Christian wisdom: a demonstration of how to follow biblical maps through the twenty-first century toward the new Jerusalem. But following the biblical maps also leads me to resituate postmodernity" (Christianity and the Postmodern Turn, Myron B. Penner, editor. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005, 73-74.)

These are very good words. They should help some who are nervous about this whole discussion to understand that some of us, like me, do not intend to give away the farm but we do want to talk to our neighbors so that they understand us better.