Bill Nieporte, Pastor

We continue our serious of blogs, seeking to develop a theology of evangelism for the “the transition zone,” this period in history between “modernity” and the cultural paradigm that is currently being birth in what many have called a “post modern” culture. 

 I have suggested that the church of the “transition zone” may find guidance by looking back 500 or so years into the last major cultural upheaval (the “transition zone” between pre-modernity and the birth of modernity).  In that transition, a radical or free-church ecclesiology gave birth to a movement that I believe was well before its time: the Anabaptist tradition.  Recent blogs have introduced Anabaptism.  This blog continues the introduction.

 The Church as Covenant People 

 In his interpretation of the 1963 Mennonite Confession of Faith, Paul Erb writes:

The church we belong to—what is it?  It is made up of all those people who believe in Christ for their salvation.  There has always been more than one of them. Each believer who is drawn to Christ and opens his heart to Him finds that others too have done the same.  They have the same faith, the same Savior and Lord.[1]

 In 1534, Anabaptist theologian Bernard Rothmann wrote:

The true Christian congregation is a gathering large or small that is founded on Christ in the true confession of Christ.  That means that it holds only to his words and seeks to fulfill his whole will and his commandments.  A gathering thus constituted is truly a congregation of Christ.  But if this is missing a gathering cannot in truth be called a congregation of Christ even if it has the name a hundred times.  That this is true and that the proper knowledge of Christ is that he is the true Lord and only Savior and Redeemer and that this is the basis of the Christian gathering, the Scriptures confirm in abundance…It is necessary to remain on this foundation.[2]

 In 1527 Leonhard Schiemer, a former Franciscan Priest, wrote:

Church or ekklesia is a gathered congregation of people which is built on Christ and not the pope, emperor, etc.  Nor are the stone houses and towers church.  Paul says you are no longer strangers but fellow citizens and members of the household of God built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets.  For the prophets all had the spirit of Christ.  That is why Christ is the cornerstone, whom the builders of the house of God cast out as a prophet.  But this true sign of the holy Christian church is spoken against everywhere.[3]

 What each of these Anabaptist writers has in common is the assertion that the church is neither a structure made out of bricks and mortar nor an institution created by human polity.  On the contrary, they view the church as a group—a community—of people who see themselves as standing in a relationship with the God who has saved them.  In addition they also see themselves in relationship with one another because they are joint heirs and recipients of that grace.[4]  This understanding is central to the Anabaptist doctrine of the church and is supported by the word ekklesia—the term most often used in the New Testament to designate church.

Ekklesia—The Called Out Ones

The most common designation for the church by New Testament writers was the term word ekklesia.  The word appears one hundred and twelve times in the New Testament.[5]  The term arises from the use of the Greek verb kaleo (which means to call) and the preposition ek (out of).  On an etymological basis, therefore, “many theologians conclude that the idea of the called out ones inheres in the resulting noun ekklesia.”[6]

Originally ekklesia was a secular not a theological term.   Basically it referred to the citizenry of a Greek community “called out” into an “assembly” for the purpose of taking care of the affairs of the city (Acts 19:32, 39).[7]   When the early Christians employed the word ekklesia to describe themselves, they no doubt perceived themselves as being “called out” of the world and into the assembly of God’s people.  They now belonged to God.  They were, by grace, God’s covenant people. 

In addition to this secular usage, the word ekklesia was also used in the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scripture (the Septuagint) as the translation for the Hebrew word qahal (assembly in English).  This was the most common word used by writers to refer to Israel as the people of God (see for example Deuteronomy 9:10). The use of this term was therefore very important to the first Christians who were, after all, Jews who used the Greek translation of the Old Testament.  It allowed them to see a continuity between the Old and New Testaments and to see their movement as a continuation of the work God began in the wilderness with the nation of Israel.[8]  They stood as heirs of the covenant. 

The conception of the church as God’s covenant people—as God’s ekklesia—has been played an important role in discussion about the doctrine of the Church.  Stanley Grenz writes:

The choice of ekklesia as the designation of the Christian community suggests that the New Testament believers viewed the church as neither an edifice nor an organization. They were a people—a people brought together by the Holy Spirit—a people bound to each other through Christ—hence, a people in covenant with God. Above all, they were God’s people.[9]

 Biblical Metaphors for the Church

The use of the term ekklesia as a designation for the church in the New Testament confirms that the first Christians saw themselves as God’s covenant people.  In addition, many of the New Testament metaphors for the church confirm this designation and offer additional insight into the nature of the church.[10]  Three of these metaphors include:  people (or nation) of God, body of Christ, and fellowship of the Holy Spirit. 

(1)  People (or nation) of God.  We have already noted that the term ekklesia was used by the first Christians for the purpose of giving them a sense of continuity and connection with the people of Israel.  These first Christians saw themselves as heirs to the covenant God had made with the Israelites in the wilderness.  Like the Israelites before them, the church believed it had been chosen by God to fulfill the mandate of reconciling all humankind to God’s self.[11]  The importance of this connection is also emphasized by the biblical metaphor that identifies the church as the people of God or the nation of God..  There is, however, one important distinction.  One does not have to become a Jew in order to become one of God’s people.  Bill Leonard writes:

In Galatians, Paul insisted that faith in Christ, not circumcision or conformity to the law, incorporated an individual into the people of God (Galatians 3:1-7).[12]

 In addition, Stanley Grenz declares:

Just as Israel had been chosen to be the people of God—God’s nation—so now the New Testament church enjoys this relationship.  Despite the profound similarity between the two, there is also one important difference.  No longer is status as God’s nation based on membership within a specific ethnic group.  Now people from the entire world are called together to belong to God; the church is an international fellowship comprising persons “from every tribe and language and people and nation” (Revelation 5:9).[13]

 The biblical metaphor of the church as the people of God is very important because it links all Believer’s together as recipients of God’s grace and into a community that has been call together to fulfill God’s purpose in the world.

(2)  Body of Christ.  One of the most significant New Testament metaphors for the church is the declaration that the church is the body of Christ.  While the previous metaphor expressed the continuity of the church with the work God began with the Israelites, this metaphor sets the church apart as unique.  What makes the church unique?  Bill Leonard writes:  “They are in Christ; they belong to Him; they are part of His body, the church.”[14] 

Of course we are not speaking here in an ontological sense.  The church is not literally the “body of Christ.”  This metaphor is to be understood in a participatory and representative fashion.[15]  Through the church Christ continues his soteriological work in the world.  As Christ’s body the church exists for the purpose of doing Christ’s will in the world—in a sense to be His continued presence among humankind.  Anabaptist theologian Art Gish has written about this aspect of the church, saying:

…the very nature of Jesus Christ is body:  historical, concrete, and incarnated.  This reflects the biblical understanding of body which refers not merely to flesh and bones, but to one’s total personhood and character.  The point is that Christ is a body.  We are a body because we belong to Jesus and derive our existence from Him.[16]

 In essence Anabaptists understand the metaphor of the church as body of Christ to indicate that they are a continuation of the incarnation—the “present historical expression of Christ’s life and ministry.”[17]

(3)  The Fellowship of the Holy Spirit.  The power of the church does not lie within the polity, programs, or structures of its organization.  Nor is the life of the church a natural by-product of the hearts and minds of those who make up its membership roster.  The church was created through the movement of God’s Spirit,[18] and its continued life and power is present due to the indwelling of the Spirit.  Paul Minear has observed, “Wherever the church is spoken of as the saints, the power of the Holy Spirit is assumed to be at work within it.”[19]

There is some connection here with Old Testament theology.  In the Old Testament we discover that the spirit of God was present in special ways in certain dwelling places—the tabernacle and the temple.  What is different in the New Testament is that the focal point of the Spirit’s activity has changed.  Instead of dwelling in special structures and places, the Holy Spirit now resides within the fellowship of a special people—the church.[20]

In what way does this image impact the nature of the church?  Baptist church historian Bill Leonard offers the following summary:

First, it means that God Himself is the author of the fellowship.  No one can acknowledge that Jesus is Lord except through the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 12:3).  Second, the Spirit frees the church to live according to the gospel.  “For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set (you) free from the law of sin and death” (Romans 8:2).  Third, the Spirit provides the gifts which contribute to the fellowship.  The gift of the Holy Spirit makes possible the gifts of the Spirit within the church (1 Corinthians 1:7; Romans 1:6; Ephesians 4:11). Fourth, the fellowship experienced in worship is the work of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:42-47).  There is no true Christian worship without the Spirit’s presence.  Fifth, the unity of the fellowship is the work of the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 4:2-7).  The church is the creation of the Holy Spirit.  As the church gathers, it does so with a faithful recognition that the Spirit is present.[21]

 The Church as the Sign of the Kingdom

We have identified the church as a covenanting community.  It is important to say, however, that as a covenant community the church is not the culmination of God’s work or intention in creation.  The church always points beyond itself toward God’s larger intention for the world.  By referring to God’s larger intention in creation we are making reference to the concept of God’s reign in the world—the kingdom of God.  Understanding the connection between the church and the kingdom of God is of central importance if we are to develop a proper understanding of Anabaptist ecclesiology. 

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[1] Paul Erb, We Believe:  An Interpretation of the 1963 Mennonite Confession of Faith for the Younger Generation, (Scottdale, Pennsylvania:  Herald Press, 1969), 36.

[2] Walter Klassen, comp., Anabaptism in Outline, (Scottdale, Pennsylvania:  Herald Press, 1981), 106.

[3] Ibid., 104.

[4] Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, 605.

[5] Bill J. Leonard,  Layman’s Library of Christian Doctrine, vol. 12, The Nature of the Church,  (Nashville, Tennessee: Broadman Press, 1986), 42.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Trent C. Butler, ed., Holman Bible Dictionary, (Nashville, TN:  Holman Bible Publishers, 1991), s.v. “church.”

[8] Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, 606.

[9] Ibid.

[10] Paul S. Minear suggest that there are between eighty and one hundred different biblical metaphors for the church in the New Testament.  Images of the Church in the New Testament, (Philadelphia:  The Westminster Press, 1960), 17.

[11] E. Glenn Hinson, The Integrity of the Church, (Nashville, Tennessee:  Broadman Press, 1978), 46.

[12] Bill J. Leonard,  Layman’s Library of Christian Doctrine, vol. 12, The Nature of the Church, 45.

[13] Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, 607.

[14] Bill J. Leonard,  Layman’s Library of Christian Doctrine, vol. 12, The Nature of the Church, 47.

[15] Art Gish, Living in Christian Community, (Scottdale, Pennsylvania:  Herald Press, 1979), 31.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Ibid., 32.

[18] Acts 2

[19] Paul Minear, Images of the Church in the New Testament, 137.

[20] Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, 608.

[21] Bill J. Leonard,  Layman’s Library of Christian Doctrine, vol. 12, The Nature of the Church, 50.

A giant wave of cultural change is crashing in on nearly every aspect and institution in human society.  The challenges these changes are brining to the attention of the church must be addressed in order to bring the good news of the gospel to all the nations and peoples of the world.

The thesis of this series of blogs is that the contemporary church can develop a meaningful theology of evangelism in a postmodern world by recovering the Anabaptist vision of the church.  The first several posts provided a definition of postmodernism.  Additionally it examined some of the major contemporary responses to the phenomena of postmodernity (what I am calling “the transition zone”.  The next several blogs provided a historical survey of the Anabaptist tradition and introduced its major ecclesiological distinctions.  This week we will offer a more detailed description of the Anabaptist doctrine of the church.  These posts will serve as the foundation for developing an Anabaptist approach to evangelism that is both faithful to its ecclesiological tradition and responsive to the postmodern world. 

The Challenges of a Changing World

Contemporary society finds itself in the midst of change and transition.  Of this there can be little doubt.  The reality of these changes has been made evident in numerous ways:  the collapse of communism, the magnitude of technological advancements, the expansion of communication industries, moral decay and decadence, the mistrust of centralized governments, economic instability, and the destruction of the environment. In his book The Third Wave, Alvin Toffler summarizes the tremendous changes taking place in human society as it experiences a transition from the philosophical tenets of the Enlightenment to what we have previously defined as—for lack of a better term—postmodernity.  Toffler writes:

A new civilization is emerging in our lives…This new civilization brings with it new family styles; changed ways of working, loving, and living…Millions are already attuning their lives to the rhythms of tomorrow…The dawn of this new civilization is the single most explosive fact of our lifetimes.[1]

 Toffler is describing a period of transition from modernity to postmodernity.  Social scientists call this period of transition a paradigm shift.     I am calling it “the transition zone.”

Like postmodernism, the term paradigm is a much used (and perhaps overused) word—particularly in academic circles.  Unlike postmodernism, however, this term is a much easier word to define.  For our purpose paradigm is best understood as an archetype—as the overarching perspective from which most people interpret the world.   It is the worldview—the collection of beliefs about life and the universe— held by an individual or a group by which they make sense out of their existence.  This being the case, a paradigm shift is a dramatic alteration in those commonly held beliefs and assumptions.  In other words, a paradigm shift is the demise of one worldview and the birth of another. 

Human society is currently experiencing such a paradigm shift.  We are calling this time of shifting “the transition in zone.”  The turmoil of this transitional time period has caused tremors in nearly every corner of human life—including the church.  This time of change and shift is proving to be a tremendous challenge to contemporary church as it seeks to fulfill it missional mandate.  The death of modernity and rise of the postmodern era have severely called into question the traditional philosophical and sociological supports of the Christian religion. In many ways, contemporary Christians feel like foreign missionaries in their own land.  In his book Congregational Megatrends, Jeff Woods addresses this feeling of confusion within the church, saying:

Futurists have predicted it.  Philosophers have pondered it.  Pastors have reacted to it.  Church members have experienced it.  “I am talking about the SHIFT.  The CHANGE.  The dramatic movements that are taking place in our churches. 

 Things don’t work like they used to.  The church is changing.  Evangelism is different.  Discipleship is different.  Ministry is different.  People don’t come to church for the same reasons they once did.  People don’t worship like they use to.  People don’t have the same loyalties, the same devotion, or the same sense of spirituality.  At times, everything in the church appears to be different.[2]

Why are things so different now for the church?  The reason is simple.  For good or for ill the church—its structures, missions, ministries, and doctrines—have been greatly influenced by the worldview of modernity.  As such, with the collapse of this paradigm, the church now finds itself in the throes of chaos.  For this reason the church sees itself as largely irrelevant and ill-prepared to fulfill its mandate in the budding postmodern era. Providing direction to the church in the midst of this turmoil is the primary goal of these blogs. 

The Church in a Changing World

The first step is providing the direction for the church in the midst of this changing world is to address the issue of ecclesiology.  What is the nature and mission of the church in the world?  What is its identity, purpose, and mandates?  For those who operate from an Anabaptist perspective, these questions of ecclesiology are of utmost importance. 

It ought to be made clear that when we discuss the topic of ecclesiology we are not simply talking about issues of church polity and structure.  We are probing something far most basic. We are in agreement with Anabaptist theologian Thomas Fingers who has written:

While the Bible says little about the church structure, it speaks often about the activities, attitudes, and relationships which characterize the church.[3]

Our primary purpose in exploring the issue ecclesiology, therefore, will not be to develop new congregational structures, programs, or policies.  Our purpose will be instead to examine the activities, attitudes, and relationships that should mark a congregation as the community of God.   When this foundation is firmly in place, the church will be equipped to develop the structures, programs, and policies that will be responsive to postmodern era.

The Identity of the Church

What is the nature of the church? 

Without a doubt, the word church finds common usage in our society—especially among those who made claim to be adherents of the Christian religion.  Yet despite its common usage, there is still widespread disagreement over what the word means.  The most widespread misconception about the church in contemporary Western society is the notion that it is primarily a building—a structure in which believer’s meet to worship God. In addition, others also misinterpret the church to simply be one human institution among many, all competing for the loyalty and allegiance of the contemporary individual.  Though such ideas are prevalent, they simply do not reflect the essence of the church’s identity either from a biblical standpoint or from the traditional understanding of the church articulated by theologians throughout church history. 

If the church, then, is not a place to gather nor a human institution, what is it?  What is the nature of the church’s identity?  Stanley Grenz, writing from an Anabaptist perspective, explores this foundational question of ecclesiology in his book Theology for the Community of God.  He sets forth his understanding of the church by appealing to three concepts that describe the church’s fundamental nature: covenant, kingdom sign, and community. 

The church, we assert, is a people standing in covenant, who are a sign of the divine reign and constitute a special community.  In short, the church is the eschatological covenant community.[4]

We will continue along these lines in our next posting.

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[1] Alvin Toffler, The Third Wave, (New York:  Bantam, 1980), 9.

[2] C. Jeff Woods, Congregational Megatrends, (Washington, D.C.: Alban Institute, 1996), 5.

[3] Thomas N. Fingers, Christian Theology:  An Eschatological Approach, vol. 2 (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1989), 226.

[4] Stanley J. Grenz, Theology for the Community of God, (Nashville, Tennessee:  Broadman and Holman Publishers, 1994), 604.

The serious of blogs under the heading “the transition zone” are all about helping the church develop a meaningful theology of evangelism in the post-modern era.  The blogs suggests that the church needs to give thought to the Anabaptist[i] tradition as it seeks to make its way through “the transition zone.” 

This week I am attempting to provide a brief overview of the development of the Anabaptist ecclesiology.  The last two posts have compared and contrasted the two major ecclesiastical traditions of Christianity:  Roman Catholicism and the Protestant Reformation.  Today we will explore the birth of the Radical (Anabaptist) ecclesiology.

The Development of Radical Ecclesiology 

Most of the ecclesiastical controversy of the sixteenth century revolved around the conflict between the Roman Catholic Church and the leaders of the Protestant Reformation (i.e., Martin Luther, Ulrich Zwingli, and John Calvin).  It is important to note, however, that another ecclesiastical tradition developed and flourished during the Reformation. This movement believed that the church had gone astray from its biblical foundations and needed not a reformation, but rather a restoration.  The primary concern of the Anabaptist movement was to restore the church to its New Testament model.[ii]

Anabaptism was born on January 21, 1525.[iii]  On this day a dozen or so individuals gather in the home of Felix Manz, near the Grossmunster.  George Blaurock recorded the events of the evening

And it came to pass that they were together until anxiety came upon them, yes, they were so pressed within their hearts.  Thereupon they began to bow their knees to the Most High God in heaven and called upon him as the Informer of Hearts and they prayed that he would give to them his divine will and that he would show his mercy unto them.  For flesh and blood did not drive them, since they well knew what they would have to suffer on account of it.

After the prayer, George of the House of Jacob stood up and besought Conrad Grebel for God’s sake to baptize him with the true Christian baptism upon his faith and knowledge.  And when he knelt down with such a request and desire, Conrad baptized him, since at that time there was no ordained minister to perform such work.[iv]

Originally these persons had been disciples of Swiss reformer Ulrich Zwingli.  Zwingli was a popular folk preacher and teacher widely known for his knowledge of Latin and Greek and his ability to freely translate the scripture into Swiss German.  In applying the gospel, he sounded more like a radical reformer than a Roman Catholic.  He advocated, among other things, changes in the liturgy, the removal of engraved images from places of worship, and the replacing mass with the Lord’s Supper.[v]  When it became clear that the bishops in Rome did not tolerate his views, Zwingli resigned his ministry and was immediately reappointed by the city council of Zurich, to which he then became responsible.[vi]   Zwingli’s allegiance and loyalty to the council of Zurich would eventually lead to his falling out with persons like Conrad Grebel, Felix Manz, and the other Anabaptist founders.

To institute reforms, Zwingli used his position as a representative to the Zurich city council.  He selected items of ecclesiastical concern he was prepared to debate against all challenges.  Following a debate, the city council would make a decision concerning the issue he had raised.  The council nearly always sided with Zwingli.  While this advanced the cause of  Reformation, Grebel and his companions questioned the method and wondered where Zwingli’s loyalty rested, with God or with the city council.[vii] 

In AD 1523 the dispute between Zwingli and his followers came to a head as Zwingli proposed that the mass be replaced by the Lord’s Supper and that engraved images be removed from places of worship.[viii]  These concerns were addressed in October of  AD 1523 by the council of Zurich.  Before the meeting,  Zwingli assured Grebel that the word of God and not the decision of the council ought to be viewed as authoritative.[ix]  After the council, however, Zwingli submitted to the will of the council who rejected his proposal. Grebel and his brethren were left with a choice:  joining Zwingli in submission to the council or facing exile, imprisonment, and persecution.  They chose the later. 

When Conrad Grebel and the others gathered for prayer and an impromptu baptismal service they turned their backs on the Reformation.  Unlike Luther, whose initial desire was to correct perceived inadequacies in the established church, Grebel and his comrades felt their mission was to start over from the beginning.  They proposed to reinstate the New Testament church.  As a baptismal confession, they voluntarily pledged themselves to a life of discipleship and Christian community.[x]  Believer’s baptism, discipleship, and Christian community became the defining marks of Anabaptist ecclesiology.

This week blogs posting have aim to provide a brief historical survey of the development of the Anabaptist movement, comparing and contrasting its vision of the church with the two major ecclesiastical traditions of Christianity—Roman Catholicism and the Protestant Reformation.

Next week, I will offer a more detail description of the Anabaptist vision of the church. Specifically we will examine:

            The Challenges of a Changing World

            The Church in a Changing World

            The Identity of the Church

            The Church as Covenant People

            The Church as a Sign of the Kingdom

            The Church as Community

            The Purpose of the Church

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[i] The word Anabaptist means “to re-baptize.”  Anabaptists believe that baptism is the first step in a life of Christian discipleship.  Early Anabaptists rejected the efficacy of their childhood baptism and were “re-baptized” as adults upon their confession of faith. (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1944); Paul M. Lederach, A Third Way, (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1980); Donald F. Durnbaugh, The Believer’s Church:  The History and Character of Radical Protestantism. (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1985); and Franklin H. Littell, The Free Church, (Boston:  Star King Press, 1957).

[ii] John J. Kiwiet, “Anabaptist Views of the Church,” in The People of God:  Essays on the Believer’s Church, ed. Paul Basden and David Dockery, (Nashville:  Broadman Press, 1991), 228.

[iii]Three schools of thought exist regarding Anabaptist origins.  The sectarian school believes that this tradition falls within a larger movement throughout history that  sought to restore the church to its New Testament roots (though they rejected an unbroken line of succession). The puritan school of thought believes that the “believer’s church” tradition was a product of the left wing of the British Puritan movement (from which sprung the Baptist). The Anabaptist school asserts that the “believer’s church” developed as a part of the evangelical wing of the Reformation. For further details see Durnbaugh, The Believer’s Church, 8-21.

[iv] A.J.F. Zieglschmid, Die ãlteste Chronik der Hutterischen Bruder, (New York:  Carl Schurz Memorial Foundation, 1943), 47, translated into English and quoted in William R. Estep, The Anabaptist Story,  (Nashville:  Broadman Press, 1963), 9-10. 

[v] Dycks, Mennonite History, 37.

[vi] Dycks says that similar actions were being taken by the aristocrats in Germany with regard to Luther and his assistants.

[vii] On December 18, 1523, Grebel wrote a letter to his brother-in-law who served as pastor of the Reformed Church at St. Gall.  In the letter, Grebel indicates that he had lost confidence in Zwingli’s leadership and did not approve of the method of reformation in Zurich.  Information about the content of this letter can be found in William R. Estep, The Anabaptist Story,  (Nashville:  Broadman Press, 1963), 11-12.

[viii] Ibid., 10.

[ix] John Howard Yoder, “The Turning Point of the Zwinglian Reformation,” Mennonite Quarterly Review, 32 (April, 1958), 128-40.

[x] Estep, The Anabaptist Story, 10.

The serious of blogs under the heading “the transition zone” are all about helping the church develop a meaningful theology of evangelism in the post-modern era.  The challenge come from the fast that the dominate cultural paradigm under which the church has operated for the last 500 years no longer hold sway.  Like it or not, things have changed – and congregations and denominations that don’t recognize that are destined to die a slow death.

Previous blogs has discussed the rise and fall of modernity and how that has impacted the church.  The blogs for this week are exploring an oft overlooked ecclesiastical tradition that I believe may offer some guidance for the church as it makes its way through “the transition zone.”  That often overlooked vision of the church—that coming from the Anabaptist[i] tradition. 

This week I am attempting to provide a brief overview of the development of the Anabaptist ecclesiology, comparing and contrasting it with the two other major ecclesiastical traditions of Christianity—Roman Catholicism and the Protestant Reformation.  The last post looked at the ecclesiology of the Roman Catholic tradition (their doctrine of the church).  Today we will explore the birth of the Protestant Reformation. 

The Development of Reformed Ecclesiology

Attempts to reform the Roman Catholic Church were made prior to the sixteenth century.  In AD 547, Benedict of Nursia’s concern for the church prompted him to initiate a monastic renewal movement. Benedict wrote instructions to guide the ministry of monastic orders.[ii]   Later, in AD 814, Charlemange and other advisors began training the clergy, reforming monasteries, establishing schools, initiating church discipline, and encouraging the public proclamation of the gospel.[iii]  In addition to the leadership of Charlemange the conscience of many church leaders was raised by the witness of persons like Francis of Assisi, Peter Waldo, John Wyclif and John Hus.

Despite many efforts to correct the church prior to the sixteenth century,  a genuine reformation movement did not begin until AD 1517.  In that year an Augustinian monk challenged the leadership of the Roman Catholic Church to a debate by posting 95 thesis statements on the door of the Wittenburg University in Germany.   That monk was Martin Luther.  Whether intended or not, Luther’s challenge to the church initiated a movement now known as the Protestant Reformation.  The Reformation spread like wild-fire across Europe.  Bibles were translated into the common vernacular of the people.  Pamphlets were published containing the writings of the Reformation theologians.  Indeed, if it were not for the advent of the printing press, the Reformation of the Sixteenth century might never have taken hold.[iv]

At first glance, Martin Luther does not seem to be a prime candidate for leading in an overhaul of the ecclesiastical structures of the church.  By most accounts, he was an ill-tempered individual given to fits of rage, depression, and excessive use of libatious beverages. These are not exactly the qualities one would expect to see in the life of a theologian and prophet.  Upon further reflection, however, Martin Luther is seen as a complicated person who engaged in many internal struggles concerning the state of his soul and the doctrines of the church. 

At the core of Luther’s struggles was his overwhelming fear of God.[v]  The teachings of the church said that salvation involved doing good works (meaning, primarily, the reception of the sacraments).  For Luther, this soteriological formula was difficult to satisfy.  No matter how hard he tried to be faithful receiving the sacraments, Luther still saw himself as a sinner.  If Luther saw himself as a sinner, he was certain that God must see him as the worst of sinners.  Luther was certain that his fate would be eternal damnation in the pits of hell. 

In frustration, Luther did what most medieval men struggling with issues of faith might do—he became a monk.  In July of AD 1505, Luther was caught in a violent thunderstorm and struck by lightning.  In that sudden confrontation with death, he cried, “St. Anne help me, I will become a monk.”[vi]

In the monastery, Luther devoted himself to Bible study, prayer, fasting, and the reception of the sacraments.  His disciplines were often the most dedicated and intense in the entire monastery.  Despite monastic life, however, Luther’s doubts remained. The disciplines of monastic life offered no reprieve.  Indeed, his continual reflections on the sacraments and words of Scripture only increased the intensity of his doubts.  Monastic life gave Luther a view of God that was so high and holy that he felt there could be no peace between himself and God as long as any hint of sin remained in his life.[vii]

In spite of his continued anguish and doubt, Luther became a popular preacher and teacher at the Wittenburg University.  One day, while preparing to deliver a lecture at the university, Luther discovered a new meaning to Romans 1:17, “The just shall live by faith.”  The impact of this revelation was overwhelming.  Luther realized that at the center of Christianity was the truth that human beings are loved, not hated, by God. Furthermore, this love was not based on what people might do for God, but rather on what God had done for all people through the work of Christ on the cross.  It was not good works or the reception of the sacraments that provided salvation, but faith.  What a new picture of God this painted for Luther.  Roland Bainton writes:

Luther, as no one else before him in more than a thousand years, sensed the importance of the miracle of divine forgiveness.  It is a miracle because there is no reason for it according to man’s  standards.[viii]

After making this discovery, Luther could say, “Now I felt myself newborn in Paradise.  All the Holy Scripture looked different to me . . .”[ix]

For the Luther salvation was based on the divine gift of grace that was mediated in Christ, expressed in God’s word, and then responded to by faith.  By faith Luther did not mean some sort of intellectual exercise or any other internal attempt to create courage and strength within ourselves.  Indeed, such an approach would make faith merely a “work” of giving assent to propositional doctrines—and Luther was convinced that human beings could not be saved by “works.”  On the contrary, genuine faith could not exist apart from an “object or trust and apart from a personal relationship.”[x]  Paul Althaus describes Luther’s views by writing:

Faith exists only as a response to God’s word.  The word alone gives it its basis and content.  This word is the word of ‘promise,’ that is, of the gospel.  God’s law is written in the hearts of all men.  Everyone knows at least something about it before it is proclaimed to him.  The law is therefore not the object of faith, at least not in the same sense that the gospel is…For this reason the hearing of the word precedes faith, as both Luther and Paul repeatedly emphasized, (Rom. 10:14; Gal. 3:2) ‘Faith comes only through hearing,’ that is, through the preaching of the gospel.  For Luther then faith means accepting God’s promise from the heart and taking a chance on it.  Faith is an act of the will with which a man ‘holds to’ the word of promise.[xi]

God’s work of providing salvation to human beings takes place within the context of this interdependence between the proclamation of the word of promise and the accompanying response of faith.  God approaches us in the word (the proclamation of scriptures) with a message of grace (the gospel) to which we respond by faith.  What, then, is the role of the sacraments in Luther’s theology?  In what way, if any, do they usher in grace and call for faith?  For Luther, a genuine sacrament was a combination of a message of grace in conjunction with a sign instituted by God.  Describing Luther’s theology of the sacraments, Althaus writes:

 This means, first, that a sign or a symbol by itself is not yet a sacrament.  Luther explains that every visible act can naturally mean something and be understood as a picture or an analogy of invisible realities.  This is not enough, however, to make a symbolic act into a sacrament.  The symbolic act must be instituted by God and combined with a promise.  Sacramental character ultimately depends on the presence of a divine word of promise.  Where this is missing, as in marriage or confirmation, one cannot speak of a sacrament.  On the other hand, however, there are realities and deeds in the Christian life such as prayer, hearing and mediating on the word, and the cross, to which God has attached a promise.  But they lack the characteristic of a sign or a symbol.  This is the case, for example, in the so-called sacrament of penance.  Strictly speaking therefore there are only two sacraments in the church of God: baptism and the Lord’s supper.  For only in these is there both a sign instituted by God and the promise of the forgiveness of sins.[xii]

According to Roland Bainton, Martin Luther’s ecclesiology was based upon his view of the sacraments.[xiii] Luther recognized the reception of the Lord’s Supper was important, but affirmed its efficacy only upon the prerequisite of personal faith.  This emphasis on personal faith would seem to suggest that Luther sought to create a confessional or congregational church. On the issue of baptism, however, Luther failed to apply fully the logic of his faith.[xiv]  If he had, Luther might well have embraced the doctrine of believer’s baptism.[xv]

Adult believer’s baptism leads to an ecclesiology that sees the church as a gathering of individuals who have experienced regeneration.  Infant baptism (at least during the Reformation) points toward a church composed of everyone in the state baptized upon birth.  Luther had a difficult time deciding which baptismal form he would affirm, but eventually opted for infant baptism.  It was this decision that allowed for the continuation of a chief problem in pre-reformation ecclesiology, namely the unification of the church and state.  To step away from such unification toward congregationalism was, for Luther, a step toward mob rule.  Penrose St. Amant writes:

He (Luther) sought to sustain the medieval idea that the same people constituted the state and the church.  The alternative seemed to him to be anarchy.  He could not bring himself to reject the alliance between church and state, which he believed was the basis not only of a Christian society but also of social accord.  Deep in the European mind the idea persisted  into the Reformation and beyond that a state church was essential for harmony and justice in society.[xvi]

For the sake of stability in society, Luther held fast to the pre-reformation doctrine of infant baptism despite the fact that it contradicted the basic tenets of his faith.  He believed that a stable society, rooted in a state church and symbolized by infant baptism, was much more important than the personal faith of the recipient.[xvii]

It was this view of the sacraments that gave rise to Luther’s ecclesiology.  Within the wider state church, Luther believed that one would find a true church made up of “earnest Christians.”[xviii]  In fact, Luther often entertained the idea of establishing a true Christian church—a church made up “earnest Christians” who would “confess the gospel with their lives as well as their lips.”  They would meet regularly, apart from the larger body of nominal Christians, to study scripture, pray, and receive the sacraments.[xix] Luther failed to realize his dream.  Indeed, later in life, Luther expressed distress over the results of the Reformation, stating that the moral and religious outlook of society seemed more lamentable than ever.[xx]  The central enigma, which Luther never satisfactorily resolved, was that he had two competing ecclesiologies.  On the one hand, he wanted a confessional church made up of everyone who exercised personal faith.  On the other hand, he wanted a territorial church consisting of everyone, baptized into the church at infancy.[xxi]

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[i] The word Anabaptist means “to re-baptize.”  Anabaptists believe that baptism is the first step in a life of Christian discipleship.  Early Anabaptists rejected the efficacy of their childhood baptism and were “re-baptized” as adults upon their confession of faith. (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1944); Paul M. Lederach, A Third Way, (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1980); Donald F. Durnbaugh, The Believer’s Church:  The History and Character of Radical Protestantism. (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1985); and Franklin H. Littell, The Free Church, (Boston:  Star King Press, 1957).

[ii] Davies, The Early Christian Church, 244.

[iii] Dycks, Mennonite History, 18.

[iv] Thomas M. Lindsey, A History of the Reformation, Vol. 1, (Edinburgh:  T. And T. Clark, 1907), 45.

[v] Dycks, Mennonite History, 29.

[vi] Bainton, The Reformation, 28.

[vii] Ibid.

[viii] Ibid., 34-35.

[ix] Dycks, Mennonite History, 30.

[x] Paul Althaus, The Theology of Martin Luther, trans. Robert C. Schultz (Philadelphia:  Fortress Press, 1966), 43.

[xi] Ibid., 43-44.

[xii] Ibid., 345-346.

[xiii] Roland Bainton, Here I Stand, (New York:  Abingdon-Cokesbury Press, 1950), 140.

[xiv] Luther was aware of this lapse in the logic of this doctrine and tried to respond to his critics in two ways.  First, Luther suggested that there were two types of faith—faith awake and faith asleep.  Children are recipients of God’s grace, but it is still asleep.  Infant baptism, Luther suggested, was a sign that the child was a beneficiary of God’s grace. Second, Luther also suggested that the child could be sustained by the faith of his or her parents (or sponsors), as they would already be a part of the community of faith.  For further treatment of Luther’s defense of infant baptism, read Bainton’s The Reformation, 50-51.

[xv] C. Penrose St. Amant, “Reformation Views of the Church,” in The People of God:  Essays on the Believer’s Church, ed. Paul Basden and David Dockery, (Nashville:  Broadman Press, 1991), 209.

[xvi] Ibid., 210.

[xvii] Ibid., 211.

[xviii] Luther’s understanding of  “earnest Christians” being found within the regional church is very similar to Augustine’s understanding that an “invisible church” of true believers exists within the larger church in which all are considered members because of their baptism as infants. 

[xix] Harold S. Bender, The Anabaptist Vision, (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1944), 17-18.

[xx] Ibid., 19; and Bainton, The Reformation, 52-54.

[xxi] Bainton, Here I Stand, 311.

This serious of blog posts aims at developing a meaningful theology of evangelism in what I am calling “the transition zone” (referred to often in literature as post-modernity).  My belief if that a starting place for this theology is with an often overlooked vision of the church—that coming from the Anabaptist[i] tradition. 

For the blog posts for this week, I intend to provide a brief overview of the development of the Anabaptist ecclesiology, comparing and contrasting it with the two other major ecclesiastical traditions of Christianity—Roman Catholicism and the Protestant Reformation.  The purpose is not to cast aspersion on either of these fine traditions (both of which have and will continue to go through their own internal reformations).  Rather our intention is to review the context out of which the Anabaptist was given birth.

The Roots of Anabaptist Ecclesiology

Anabaptist ecclesiology did not begin in a vacuum.  To understand this movement, it is necessary to examine it in relation to the ecclesiastical traditions from which it tried to differentiate itself—specifically the Roman Catholic Church and the Protestant Reformation Church.

The Development of Roman Catholic Ecclesiology 

As we discover in the Acts of the Apostles, following the day of Pentecost the church of Jesus Christ experienced not only tremendous growth but also terrible persecution (cf. Acts 4:1-4; 5:17-42; 7:54-60; 8:1-3; 16:16-40; 19:23-41; 21:27-32; 23:12-15).  Cornelius J. Dyck has written:  “The baptism with water and by the Spirit was often followed by the baptism of blood—martyrdom.”[ii]  Persecution came from both the government and the religious establishment.  Despite this persecution, the missionary zeal of the early believers remained fervent.  The gospel rapidly spread and churches were established throughout Asia, India, Northern Africa, and even into Europe.

As the gospel message spread the intensity of the persecution subsided.  Political leaders began to see that the Christian leader Tertullian was correct when he said, “The blood of martyrs is seed.” Furthermore, due to the expansion of the church, civic leaders began to view Christians as a valuable constituency.  Political leaders began supporting the development of church structures they believed could prove beneficial to the state.

The developing tie between the church and the state took a quantum leap forward when Constantine became the emperor of Rome.  Early within his reign, Constantine was baptized into the Christian church.  Throughout the centuries, historians have questioned the genuineness of Constantine’s conversion.[iii]  What cannot be questioned is the effective manner in which he employed the power of the state to enforce the practices and doctrines of the Christian religion.   In AD 321, in appreciation of the church for its support, Constantine made Sunday an official day of rest. He wrote letters of instruction for members of the clergy.  He even entertained clerical leaders in his home at the expense of the state to increase further the synthesis between the church and state.[iv]   Why he did all this is a matter of debate, but the most likely suggestion is that Constantine recognized the political benefit of having a state religion to unify the declining Roman Empire.

Theologians of Constantine’s day sought to justify this synthesis between the church and the state.  The issue that needed constant attention was the conflict between the biblical understanding of the church as the body of Christ (Corpus Christi) and the secular view of the church as the whole of society (Corpus Christianum).  Perhaps the greatest theologian of this era was Augustine.  Augustine realized that Corpus Christianum did not express the biblical understanding of Church.  For this reason, he suggested there must be a band of truly faithful Christians hidden within Corpus Christianum.  He referred to these hidden believers as “the invisible church.”[v]  For many centuries, Augustine’s ecclesiastical formula effectively addressed the conflict between the biblical understanding of the church and the status quo of state church synthesis.

For a millennium the church and the state enjoyed the benefits of unification.  Though political leaders would come and go, and though the Roman Empire would eventually collapse, the importance of the synthesis between the church and state remained virtually unchallenged.  Political leaders used the church to unify their secular power base.  Religious leaders enjoyed the benefit of having their doctrines enforced by the might of the military.  With the decline of Rome the glory and greatness of the empire were slowly transferred to the Holy Roman Catholic Church.

While the synthesis between the Christian religion and the secular state might appear positive, it created tremendous problems in the Church.  First, the church faced the challenge of “bringing into its life masses of people who had become members without knowing it.”[vi]  Second, the witness of the church suffered as the persecuted church became the persecuting church instituting the Crusades to recover the Holy Land from the Muslims.  Third, the institutional church became increasingly materialistic—as illustrated by the practice of selling indulgences to earn the release of those in purgatory.  The selling of indulgences served as a rallying cry for Reformers who viewed the practice as a corruption of the church.  The greatest challenge for the church during this era was that it held to a sacramental understanding of salvation—allowing participation in religious rituals to become more important than sincere faith and obedience.  The Reformer’s critique was that the spiritual had become almost entirely objective and mechanical. 

The soteriological emphasis within the Roman Catholic Church was, to a large extent, centered on the reception of divine grace through God’s ordained sacramental institution—the church.  Roman Catholicism teaches that the church, as the earthly mediator of divine grace, was absolutely necessary for salvation.[vii]  Those outside the church were considered outside the sphere of the Spirit’s work since “he cannot have God for his Father who has not the church for his mother.”[viii]  Because the church was the body of Christ it could never be considered dispensable.  Roman Catholics believe that Christians constantly need the grace that only church supplies.[ix]  The ministry of the church, therefore, is to administer the sacraments:  baptism, confirmation, penance, ordination, marriage, the Eucharist, and extreme unction. The administration the sacraments is the means by which the church dispenses grace and participation in these rituals provides a person with salvation. Of the Roman Catholic tradition, Paul Lederach writes, “Salvation became a matter of pardon, not repentance and renewal.”[x]

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[i] The word Anabaptist means “to re-baptize.”  Anabaptists believe that baptism is the first step in a life of Christian discipleship.  Early Anabaptists rejected the efficacy of their childhood baptism and were “re-baptized” as adults upon their confession of faith. (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1944); Paul M. Lederach, A Third Way, (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1980); Donald F. Durnbaugh, The Believer’s Church:  The History and Character of Radical Protestantism. (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1985); and Franklin H. Littell, The Free Church, (Boston:  Star King Press, 1957).

[ii] Cornelius J. Dyck, A Introduction to Mennonite History, (Scottdale, PA:  Herald Press, 1993), 16.

[iii] Constantine was on his way toward world conquest when he had his so-called conversion experience.  In the story, Constantine looks up toward heaven, sees a cross, and hears a voice saying, “Conquer in this sign.”  See Lederach, A Third Way, 39;  and  J.G. Davies, The Early Christian Church:  A History of Its First Five Centuries, (Grand Rapids, Michigan:  Baker Book House, 1965), 120. 

[iv] Davies, The Early Christian Church, 120.

[v] Lederach, A Third Way, 39-44.

[vi] Dyck, Mennonite History, 17.

[vii] Ted A. Campbell, Christian Confessions:  A Historical Introduction.  (Louisville, Kentucky:  Westminister John Knox Press, 1996), 99.

[viii] This quotation is attributed to Irenaeus by Davies, The Early Christian Church, 144.

[ix] Campbell, Christian Confessions, 99.

[x] Lederach, The Third Way, 41.

Theologians and philosophers have advocated many different approaches to postmodernism – or what we are calling “the transition zone.”  Since it is defined in terms of what it is not vis-à-vis modernity, the responses of many has been to approach postmodernism in terms of  what changes are needed from modernity.   There are six such basic approaches to postmodernism.

(1)  Constructive postmodernism views modernity as “an incomplete project awaiting completion.”[i]   They argue that the point is not to reject the previously mentioned assumptions of modernity, but rather to extend them and complete the project. They argue that the enlightenment was successful is achieving epistemological freedom, but that the process has not yet gone far enough.  What is needed is a second enlightenment that will extend the emancipation “to include all the spheres—personal, social, economic, political—in which human live and move, and to include all the people—not just Western elites—in the emancipatory process.”[ii]

(2)  Restorationist  postmodernism believes there to be much within the premodern and modern worldviews worth retaining.  Some of its critics have suggested that this approach is merely a return to premodernism, but it is not!  What it seeks to do is build on modern and premodern foundations considered worthwhile, while rejecting others.[iii]

(3)  Deconstructive postmodernism was a response to the literary theory called “structuralism.”  Structuralists hypothesized that cultures develop literary documents in an attempt to provide compositions of meaning by means of which people can makes sense out of the meaningless of their experience.  Deconstructionists rejected structuralism.  They said that meaning is not inherent in the text but emerged as the interpreter entered into dialogue with the text.  Consequently, the meaning of a text is dependent on the perspective of the one who enters into dialogue with it. [iv]  For this reason there can be as many interpretations of a text as readers (or readings). In an essay examining this approach to postmodernism, William Beardslee writes:

This type of postmodernism is marked by the abandonment of the quest for a vision of the whole.  Usually great emphasis is placed upon the nature of understanding as interpretation, that is, the view that no standpoint exists outside the flow of history and experience, so that all writing is interpretaion of earlier writing.[v]

Postmodern theorists began applying the theories of literary deconstructionists to the world as a whole.  They reject modernity’s claim to epistemological objectivity.  They reject Descartes proposition that there were any core truths or facts to which one could appeal as the foundation for human reason.  Deconstructionists seek to dissolve people’s trust in all claims to epistemological objectivity, showing that when structures are taken apart they are seen to be “nothing but contingent and relative constituents of contingent and relative  structures.”[vi]

(4)  A fourth approach to postmodernism is that of theological postliberalism.  For the postliberal theologian the challenge is not to save or reject the assumptions of the modern era, nor is it to restore (in some fashion) the lost benefits of the premodern era.  On the contrary, postliberal theologians see Christianity as an “other world” project.

A key figure in the development of a postliberal approach to postmodernism is Yale University professor George Lindbeck.  Borrowing from a general framework suggested by Ludwig Wittgenstein,[vii] Lindbeck argues that languages are guided by a system of rules.  These rules provide the structures of languages and its use.  The role of theology, then, is to understand the rules of the language game as they are used in the Christian religion.  As Wittgenstein writes, “Theology is grammar.”[viii]  Lindbeck writes:

…religion can be viewed as a kind of cultural and/or linguistic framework or medium that shapes the entirety of life and thought.  It functions somewhat like a Kantian a priori, although in this case the a priori is a set of acquired skills that could be different.  It is not primarily an array of beliefs about the true and the good (though it may involve these), or a symbolism expressive of basic attitudes, feelings, or sentiments (though these will be generated).  Rather, it is similar to an idiom that makes possible the description of realities, the formulation of beliefs, and the experiencing of inner attitudes, feelings, and sentiments.  Like a culture or language, it is a communal phenomenon that shapes the subjectivities of individuals rather than being primarily a manifestation of those subjectivities.  It comprises a vocabulary of discursive and nondiscursive symbols together with a distinctive logic or grammar in terms of which this vocabulary can be meaningfully deployed.  Lastly, just as a language (or “language game,” to use Wittgenstein’s phrase) is correlated with a form of life, and just as a culture has both cognitive and behavioral dimensions, so it is also in the case of a religious tradition.  Its doctrines, cosmic stories or myths, and ethical directives are integrally related to the rituals it practices, the sentiments or experiences it evokes, the actions it recommends, and the institutional forms it develops.  All this is involved in comparing a religion to a cultural-linguistic system.[ix]

For the postliberal, theology is intratextual.  It is associated with the relationship of the text to the world. According to Terrence Tilley, “The point (of this approach to theology) is to see how to live in God’s world and how all other worlds fit or fail to fit in the world God has made.”[x]

(5) Liberationist postmodernism is a reaction against the social structures of modernity—social structures considered unjust and unfair because of a hegemony of predominately white Eurocentric males.  Liberationists seek to transform political and social structures in a way that destroys the established hegemony and brings about justice for those considered on the margins of society and culture.  For this reason, liberationists usually need some sort of adjective (feminist, gay, black, third world, etc.) to label what sort of liberation motif is at work.[xi]

A good example of liberationist postmodernism is Letty Russel’s book Church in the Round:  Feminist Interpretation of the Church.  Russel argues that the ecclesiastical traditions and structures of the church are dominated by white Eurocentric males.  As a result its identity is no longer germane to its current cultural climate or its ongoing life.  To make the church more relevant to the postmodern era Russell argues that the church needs new self-descriptive metaphors—metaphors that can come from feminist theology. 

What is a “metaphor?”  Feminist and liberation theologians point out that metaphor is more than a figure of speech—it is also a process of thought.  When we examine the unfamiliar we ask, “What is it like?”  By comparing one thing to another, metaphoric thought helps persons understand the unknown, thereby creating a new sense of reality.  In a post-modern world, Russell asserts that Eurocentric, male-dominated, hierarchical metaphors can no longer provide life for the church.  These metaphors must be replaced by images that are inclusive, particularly of those who stand at the margins of society and the church.

The metaphors that Russell suggests could help the church recover its identity in the post-modern era are those of tables—specifically a round table, a kitchen table, and a welcome table.  The round table is a familiar piece of furniture is most cultures.  Metaphorically speaking, the round table suggests commonality, connectionalism, and hospitality.  For the church, the image of the round table points both to the Holy Eucharist and to the eschatological banquet of God’s Reign when all humanity will feast together.  Russell says that this image of the round table “achieves its power as a metaphor only as the already of welcome, sharing, talk, and partnership opposes the not yet of our divided and dominated world.”[xii] This image of the round table is an appropriate place for feminists to begin developing an ecclesiology.  Feminism, as defined by Russell, does not seek to replace the oppressive male dominated power structure with an equally unjust female dominated hierarchy.  On the contrary, feminism is a word that points to the pursuit of liberation from “all forms of dehumanization on the part of those who advocate full human personhood for all of every race, class, sex, sexual orientation, ability, and age.”[xiii]  Feminism, then, has as its core the desire to include the marginalized in all conversations and actions regarding issues of politics, economics, and theology. Russell’s approach to the postmodern era is an attempt to transform the ecclesiastical structures of the church in such a way that they will destroy the established hegemony and bring about justice for those considered to be on the margins of society, culture, and church.

(6)  The sixth and final approach to postmodernism comes from those who advocate an ecclesiology of communal praxis.  Of those who advocate this approach, Terrence Tilley says the following:

What joins them is that they leave behind the endless debates of modernity about the foundations of religious belief in true or warranted doctrines.  What is key for this postmodern approach are the practices which constitute shared religious life.[xiv]

In other words, this approach is not concerned with finding a philosophical foundation for true belief.  Instead this approach understands true belief to be the result of involvement in the collective life of a religious community. 

Anabaptist scholar John Howard Yoder makes an argument for communal praxis ecclesiology.  In his book The Priestly Kingdom:  Social Ethics As Gospel Yoder says that the usual starting point for a study of theological ethics is a discussion about “the nature of ethical language, what it means to be talking about ethics, and the meaning of moral discourse within an intelligently self-critical community.”[xv]  Such discussions are thought to be the necessary groundwork for moral theology.  Yoder rejects this viewpoint. For him the most valuable resource for moral reasoning is the Christian’s voluntary commitment to the Christian community as distinct from secular society.  He writes:

There is no “scratch” to which one can go back to begin, anymore than there is any “onion per se” to be reached by peeling off one after another the layers of flesh.  What must replace the prolegomenal search for “scratch” is the confession of rootedness in historical community.  Then one directs one’s critical acuity toward making clear the distance between that community’s character or covenant and its present faithfulness.[xvi]

The communal praxis model is also advocated by Baptist theologian James McClendon.  McClendon’s systematic theology emphasizes this approach by beginning with a volume about ethics.  This rejects the usual order for study in systematic theology that begins with foundations (also called apologetics), continuing next to doctrine, and concluding with ethics. Foundations provide the basic groundwork for what follows.  Doctrines show what must be believed and taught.  Ethics discuss the conduct that should follow based on what is believed.[xvii] This is supposed to be the logical order for theological study.  Not for McClendon who argues that theological discourse should begin in the community with a conversation about ethics. McClendon writes:

On this view, we begin by finding the shape of the common life in the body of Christ, which is for Christians partly a matter of self-discovery…That is ethics.  We continue with an investigation of the common and public teachings that sanctions and supports the common life by displaying its doctrinal height and breadth and depth.  That is doctrine.  And we end by discovering those apologetic and speculative positions that such life and such teachings call forth.  That is philosophical theology or apologetics.[xviii]

It is interesting to note that theological postliberals and those advocating a communal praxis model are in many ways kindred spirits.  Both are allied in the argument that philosophical conversations are not the proper starting place for theological discourse.  Where they part company is in determining where such theological inquiry should begin.  Postliberalism is primarily concerned with the nature, status, and function of doctrine.  Postliberal theologians like Lindbeck focused on the relationship between the canonical text and the religious community in the formulation of doctrine.  Yoder, McClendon, and others who advocate a communal praxis model are primarily focused on the ethics and practices of the religious community.  This approach sees shared practice as being foundation to doctrinal formulations. 

Outlining A Postmodern Theology 

The ongoing mission of the church remains the same in the emerging postmodern era—that of proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ and finding appropriate ways to inform and influence this new world view with the “deepening and vitalization” of God’s Reign.[xix]  This is the work of evangelism—the content of Jesus’ Great Commission to the church as recorded in the Gospel of Matthew.

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.  (Mt. 28:19-20 NIV)

In light of the dramatic rejection of the epistemology of modernity, how does the church accomplish this mission?  How does the church do the work of evangelism? The thesis of this paper is that the contemporary church can develop a meaningful theology of evangelism in a postmodern world by recovering the Anabaptist vision of the church—an ecclesiological vision reflected in those who practice a theology of communal practice. A meaningful theology of evangelism in a postmodern world, therefore, will be based on the ecclesiology of communal praxis.  In brief outline form, a communal praxis theology of evangelism would be as follows.

(1)  The invitation of the church will be to invite those outside the Christian community to become true believers by entering the community of faith and becoming followers (disciples) of the Lord Jesus Christ.  The primary goal in evangelism will not be to offer people a sacred canon of propositional religious knowledge, but rather to invite them to become followers of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

(2) Life as a follower of Jesus Christ is not lived in a vacuum, but involves complete immersion into the life of the Christian community.  The Christian community is preeminently important in the development of Christian spirituality—which is the ultimate goal of evangelism. The community of faith is the place where religious knowledge works to produce a growing spirituality in the knower.  Stanley Grenz, himself a proponent communal praxis theology, writes:

A theology that is focused on spirituality, therefore, views itself as immensely practical.  In the postmodern world we must reappropriate the older pietist discovery that a right heart takes primacy over a right head.  Theology must take its lodging in the heart, for it is concerned with the transformation of not only intellectual commitments, but also the character and life of the believer (as well as the faith community).[xx]

(3)  The communal praxis theology focuses on the centrality of the biblical story for the formation of life within the community.  The focus here is not on the biblical text as though it were some sort of objective source for Christian doctrine.  Rather the focus is on the biblical story as the subjectively read word of God that uniquely addresses the needs of the church as the vibrant community.  The authority of the Scripture is not open for philosophical debate.  Rather biblical authority in the church is assumed on the basis that it is universally recognized book of the Christian community.  The Bible, then, is not a collection of propositional doctrines to be examined under the microscope of supposed true reason.  Rather it is the religious community’s source-book for Christian spirituality.  Again, Stanley Grenz writes,

. . . in engaging in the theological task, we may simply assume the authority of the Bible on the basis of the integral relation of theology to the faith community.  Because the bible is the universally acknowledged book of the Christian church, the biblical message functions as the central norm for the systematic articulation of the faith of that community.  Consequently, the divine nature of Scripture or its status vis-à-vis revelation need not be demonstrated in the prolegomenon to theology.  Sufficient for launching the systematic-theological enterprise is the nature of theology itself as a reflection on community faith.  And sufficient for the employment of the Bible in this task is it status as the book of the community.[xxi]

(4) The communal praxis approach is also by its nature rather radical in its understanding of grace.  Religious faith in the pre-modern paradigm was under the hegemony of the institutional church.  They declared for the masses what it meant to be a “true believer.”  The church (particularly its clerics) became the keepers of the sacred traditions and enforcers of the rules, rituals, regulations, and requirements of the faith.  Under modernity, religious faith became an exercise of reason and rationalism.  In both, the mystical movements of the spirit were regulated to the peripheries of the faith.  Each allowed for a more intense legalistic form of religion.

The communal praxis approach is by its nature more open to the movement of the Holy Spirit.  While forms of legalism tend to infringe on all forms of religious order, the communal praxis form of legalism is more vapid than most, allowing the grace values of freedom, mercy, peacemaking, community, and forgiveness to find strong expression. 

In this blog I have defined the term postmodern, described six of the contemporary theological and philosophical approaches to the challenges of postmodernism, and offered a modest outline for a postmodern modern theology of evangelism based upon the Anabaptist ecclesiological tradition—expressed in communal praxis theology.  In future blogs I will present an historical overview of the Anabaptist ecclesiological tradition.   This overview serves as the foundation for my understanding of Anabaptist ecclesiology, which will be presented in a subsequent blogs. 

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[i] Terrence W. Tilley, Postmodern Theologies. vii.

[ii] Ibid. 5.

[iii] Thomas C. Oden,  After Modernity . . . What?  Agenda for Theology.  (Grand Rapids, Michigan:  Zondervan Publishing House, 1990), 59-70.

[iv] Stanley J. Grenz, “Star Trek and the Next Generation:  Postmodernism and the Future of Evangelical Theology,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 92.

[v] David Ray Griffin, William A. Beardslee, and Joe Holland, Varieties of Postmodern Theology.  (New York:  State University of New York, 1989), 66.

[vi] Terrence W. Tilley, Postmodern Theologies, viii.

[vii] See Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations.  3d ed. trans. G.E.M. Anscombe.  (New York, McMillan, 1958) and Lectures and Conversations on Aesthetics, Psychology and Religious Belief.  ed. C. Barrett. (Oxford:  Blackwell, 1966).

[viii] Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, 373.

[ix] George Lindbeck, The Nature of Doctrine:  Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age.  (Philadelphia:  The Westminster Press, 1984), 33.

[x] Ibid.

[xi] David Dockery, “The Challenge of Postmodernism,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 16.

[xii] Letty M. Russel Church in the Round:  Feminist Interpretation of the Church.  (Louisville, Kentucky:  Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), 17.

[xiii] Ibid., 22.

[xiv] Terrence W. Tilley, Postmodern Theologies, viii.

[xv] John Howard Yoder, The Priestly Kingdom:  Social Ethics As Gospel.  (Indiana:  Notre Dame Press, 1984), 7.

[xvi] Ibid.

[xvii] James Wm. McClendon, Jr.  Systematic Theology:  Ethics.  (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1986), 41.

[xviii] Ibid., 45.

[xix] Benard Häring, Evangelization Today.  (New York:  The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1991), 1.

[xx] Stanley J. Grenz, “Star Trek and the Next Generation:  Postmodernism and the Future of Evangelical Theology,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 101.

[xxi] Stanley J. Grenz. Revisioning Evangelical Theology:  A Fresh Agenda for the 21^st Century (Downers Grove, Ill.:  Inter Varsity, 1993), 15.

Many social observers agree that the Western world is in the midst of tremendous change.  Stanley Grenz has said that we are “. . . experiencing a cultural shift which rivals that innovation that marked the birth of modernity out of the decay of the Middle Ages.”[i]   If modernity is a period characterized by a cultural paradigm coming to an end, then Thomas Oden is correct when he states that “whatever it is that comes next in time can plausibly be called postmodernity.”[ii] 

What precipitated the beginning of this paradigm shift?   As noted earlier, the first significant use of the word postmodernism took place in 1939 when Arnold Toynbee.  Toynbee argued that the modern age ended in 1914 and that what emerged from the ashes of the first world war should be described as “post-modern.”[iii]   Others, like Michael Kohler, looked to the second world war, with the horror of the holocaust and appearance of nuclear weapons, as the starting point of modernity’s demise.[iv]  Still others, like Stanley Grenz, look to the academia to find the impulse to dismantle  modernity in the rise of deconstructionalism  as a literary theory in the 1970s.[v]  However one chooses to date the beginning of modernity’s demise, one thing is certainly clear:  the world view that dominated humanity’s outlook for the last two hundred years is in the process of collapse.  Carl F.H. Henry writes:

Postmodernism . . . holds that the so-called world that emerged intellectually from the sixteenth century onward has come to an end at the close of our twentieth century as surely as the so-called medieval era had its day.[vi]

 Postmodernism points to the birth of a new cultural paradigm that will eventually replaces modernity. 

That new paradigm cannot yet be fully described because it is still in the birthing process.  We are in a transition period between modernity and what comes next.  What we can do is look at the types of change we see taking place in our culture and then postulate what will make up this new world view. What will the postmodern era look like?  This is a difficult question to answer.  For the most part, postmodernism has been defined in terms of what it is not—vis-à-vis modernity. A.K.M. Adam has written:

It is always fair to think of postmodernism as a movement of resistance.  The name itself suggests that postmodernity defines itself over against “modernity.”[vii]

 Though it certainly appears to be exercise in negativity, it is virtually impossible to describe postmodernism without stating what it is not by way of comparison with modernity.  This illustrates the reality that modernity, though in a state of demise and defeat, is not fully deceased.  Though it is quite ill and facing a terminal illness, modernity is still an influential aspect of human culture—particularly in the West.  It would be a mistake to think that the overarching assumptions of modernity have completely passed out of existence.  Indeed, as Terrence Tilley has noted, by defining our era as post-modern, we invariably drag modernity into the present.  When we declare ourselves as postmodern we ironically display the present power of modernity to define who we are.[viii]

Postmodernity defines itself in terms of a break with modernity.  David Dockery states that “postmodernity describes a dislocating human condition that is being experienced in these last years of the twentieth century.” By dislocating he means that the various changes taking place in our culture have the tendency to “throw people out of worldviews they have traditionally held.”[ix]

From what assumptions of modernity are people feeling dislocated?  Earlier we looked Stephen Toulmin’s description of modernity.  In his book Cosmopolis:  The Hidden Agenda of Modernity, Toulmin declares that the epistemology of modernity viewed truth as what was written, universal, general, and timeless.[x]  Near the end of  his book, Toulmin argues that postmodern individuals are increasingly accepting as valid those things that are oral, particular, local, and timely.[xi] 

In a very different way, Stanley Grenz identifies three aspects of the profound changes we face. 

First, the postmodern mind rejects rationalism as the only means for understanding truth.  In modernity, rational methods were sought out to make evident the fundamental accuracy of particular philosophic, scientific, religious, moral, and political assertions.  Modernity placed most aspects of reality under the analysis of reason—thereby resulting in a resolute confidence in human rational capabilities.  The postmodern mind rejects such a faith in human reason.  Truth—the postmodern individual will assert—cannot be limited to a purely rational proposition.  “Because truth is nonrational,” Grenz says, “there are other ways of knowing, including through emotions and the institution.”[xii]

Second, the postmodern mind understands truth to be subjective.  This is in opposition to one of modernity’s primary convictions:  that truth is purely objective. Modern persons believe themselves to be dispassionate about truth—like Detective Joe Friday who claims to be interested only in “the facts.”  Grenz argues:

The modern knower professes to stand apart from being a conditioned participant and to be able to view the world as an unconditioned observer, that is to peer at the world from a vantage point outside the flux of human history.[xiii]

 The postmodern mind no longer accepts the judgment that knowledge is objective.  Quite the contrary, the postmodern mind understands knowledge to be contextual, relational, and personal.  Grenz says:

The world is not simply an objective given that is out there, waiting to be discovered and known.  Instead it is relative, indeterminate, and participatory.[xiv]

 Finally, the postmodern mind is no longer convinced that knowledge is inherently good.  Modernity argued for the intrinsic goodness of knowledge claiming that when it was coupled with the power of education it would eventually make the world a better place.  Over its roughly two hundred-year existence, such confidence in the intrinsic goodness of knowledge has taken on messianic characteristics.  The primary assumption was this:  human reason, freed from tyrannical forms of government and superstitious religion, could provide humanity with a peaceful and prosperous world.  The magnitude of the destruction in the First World War—followed by the appearance of weapons of mass destruction at the end of Second World War—shattered the myth that advancements in human reason had any soteriological value.

In the emerging postmodern era, humanity’s unbridled optimism in the power of reason has almost vanished.  Instead of great blessings, most have discovered human technology to be its greatest curse.  Instead of creating a world of peace and prosperity, advancements in human reason have given us the technological ability to destroy all life on the planet in a matter of minutes.   Instead of a harmonious and affluent lifestyle for all humankind, what we see instead is world-wide oppression, racial and ethnic bigotry, rampant hunger, and the destruction of the environment. Carl F.H. Henry writes:

Postmodernity no longer trusts reason, technology, and/or science to bring about a better world.  Modernity—the age of science and reason—brought with it World War I, World War II, fascist and Marxist totalitarianism, Auschwitz, the increasing poisoning of the planet, and bare escape from international nuclear destruction.[xv]

 Modernity’s optimistic trust in the power of human reason has been replaced by a gnawing pessimism.  It is no longer accepted as true that “each and every day in each and every way we are getting better and better.”[xvi]

As “modernity” continues its decline as the dominate cultural paradigm, we enter “the transition zone” – that period of time between the hegemany of modernity and the birth of what will emerge out of this post-modern period.  In our next post, we will explore some of the ways that theologians are apporaching this period of transition. 

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[i] Stanley J. Grenz, “Star Trek and the Next Generation:  Postmodernism and the Future of Evangelical Theology,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 90,

[ii] Thomas C. Oden, “The Death of Modernity and Postmodern Evangelical Spirituality,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 25.

[iii] Thomas Docherty, “Postmodernism:  An Introduction,” 1-2.

[iv] Michael Kohler, “‘Postmodernismus’:  Ein begriffsgeschichtlicher Uberblick,” Americkastudien 22 (1977): 8-18, cited by Albert Mohler  in The Challenge of Postmodernism,  68.

[v] Stanley J. Grenz, “Star Trek and the Next Generation:  Postmodernism and the Future of Evangelical Theology,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 92.

[vi] Carl F.H. Henry, “Postmodernism:  The New Spectre?” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 36.

[vii] A.K.M. Adam, What is Postmodern Biblical Criticism?” 1.

[viii] Terrence W. Tilley, Postmodern Theologies:  The Challenge of Religious Diversity.  (Maryknoll, New York:  Orbis Books, 1995), vi.

[ix] David S. Dockery, “The Challenge of Postmodernism,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 13.

[x] Toulmin, Cosmopolis, 30-35.

[xi] Ibid., 186-192.

[xii] Stanley J. Grenz, “Star Trek and the Next Generation:  Postmodernism and the Future of Evangelical Theology,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 94.

[xiii] Ibid., 91.

[xiv] Ibid., 94.

[xv] Carl F.H. Henry, “Postmodernism:  The New Spectre?” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 36

[xvi] Stanley J. Grenz, “Star Trek and the Next Generation:  Postmodernism and the Future of Evangelical Theology,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 94.

This series of blogs is examining what I am referring to as “the transition zone” – called by some post-modernity, or the great emergence.  The thesis is that culture is in a period of upheavel and transition as one paradigm is dying, and another is being birthed.

Last blog we talked about the last great transition – from what we called pre-modernity into an epoch called “modernity” – which has been the paradigm which has dominated culture for the better part of 500 year.  Briefly, in this post, let me offer a description of “modernity.”

The beginning of modernity is clearly associated with the 18th century philosophical movement known as the Enlightenment.  During the early days of the Enlightenment, dramatic changes took place in the way people gathered, interpreted, and made use of information.  The epistemological shift of the Enlightenment can be traced back to the thoughts of Enlightenment philosopher René Descartes (1596-1650 ACE). 

René Descartes lived during the period of Europe’s Thirty Years’ War (1618-1648 ACE).   Though it was primarily a civil war between European Protestants leaders (in Germany, France, Sweden, Denmark, England, the United Provinces) and the unity and power of the Holy Roman Empire, the conflict still involved many religious overtones.  In the midst of the wars, Henry IV of Navarre rose to prominence with the promise that he would end the religious wars that had plagued the continent for several decades.  He promised to establish ecumenical peace throughout Europe. Unfortunately, as Henry was on the verge of fulfilling his promise, his life was cut short by an assassin.  Out of great respect for Henry and the noble cause he had endeavored to fulfill, his heart was taken as a religious relic—enshrined at La Flèche, just outside Paris, where a young René Descartes was a student.[i]

The bloodshed caused by these religious wars, and the hopelessness experienced as a result of the assassination of Henry IV, created a social crisis for the generation of Descartes.  If objective religious truth existed, as the neoplatonic Christian thinkers claimed, why was there so much bloodshed and religious conflict?  This social crisis caused such anxiety for the Enlightenment philosophers[ii] that their overarching passion became a search for an epistemology that could serve the cause of peace and resist the continued chaos in Europe.  Cartesian philosophy was not, according to Walter Brueggemann, Steven Toulmin, and Susan Bordo,  a “buoyant act of imagination, but was instead a desperate maneuver to cope with anxiety.  Thus ‘objectivity’ emerged as a way to fend off ominous chaos.”[iii]

 In the pre-modern era, knowledge was viewed cosmologically.  In other words, all knowledge was objective fact that was out there ready to be grasped.  At the dawning of the Enlightenment, however, Descartes argued that all claims to knowledge ought to be questioned—critically examined to see whether or not they were true.[iv]  A critical examination of all epistemological claims should continue until one of two things occurred:  either the epistemological claim was proven unjustifiable, or the critical examination lead to a foundational fact—a core truth that could not be questioned.  Since this core truth is considered foundational for the rest of knowledge—Cartesian philosophy has sometimes been called foundationalism. [v]  According to Murphy foundationalism…

…is a theory about how claims to know can be justified.  When we seek to justify a belief, we do so by relating it to (basing it upon, deriving it from) other beliefs.  If these other beliefs are called into question, then they too must be justified.  Foundationalists insist that this chain of justifications must stop somewhere:  it must not be circular nor must it constitute an infinite regress.  Thus, the regress must end in a “foundation” of beliefs that cannot themselves be called into question.[vi]

What was the core fact that could not be called into question?  According to Descartes, the core that could not be questioned was the existence of the thinking subject.  Everything could be questioned except the reality of his existence—“Cogito, ergo sum”  (“I think, therefore I am”).  From this one axiom, Descartes rebuilt the superstructure of Western philosophy.[vii]  He questioned all commonly held convictions about the world until he came to the conclusion that the only thing that could not be questioned was that he questioned—that he was exercising human reason.  This ability to ask questions and critically analyze life was, according to Descartes, foundational and universal in the human experience.  This being the case, any new epistemological structures necessarily had to be built on the foundation of human reason to garner universal consent.  “So, from Descartes’ time forward,” says Nancey Murphy, “the idea of human knowledge focused on the general, the universal, the timeless, the theoretical.”[viii] 

During the paradigm shift of Enlightenment, epistemology changed from being cosmological to foundational.  Knowledge was no longer simply considered some sort of objective fact that was out there ready to be grasped.  Instead, knowledge was viewed as dualistic.  There were two differing realms of knowledge.  Objective knowledge (truth) was anything that could be known about the world of matter—anything that could be examined and proven through the exercise of human reason.  Subjective knowledge (opinion) was anything that could be known about the individual self—knowledge about things such as personal preference and taste. 

 Modernists, of course, were far more interested in objective knowledge.  Objective knowledge was “real” or “factual” because it could be grasped through scientific inquiry.[ix]  Everything that could not be proven was considered to be subjective belief rather than objective fact.  This analysis is confirmed by Steven Toulmin in his book Cosmopolis:  The Hidden Agenda of Modernity.  Toulmin declares that in modernity only certain types of knowledge could be classified as real or factual.  What types of knowledge?  Toulmin says that in modernity, there was

• a move from oral to written, so that what is reliable is what is written;
• a move from the particular to the universal, so that real truth is what is true everywhere;
• a move from local to general, so that real truth had to be the same from locale to locale; and
• a move from the timely to the timeless, so that the real is the unchanging.[x]

In modernity, therefore, real or factual knowledge is that which is written, universal, general, and timeless—as opposed to that which is oral, particular, local, and timely.             

Modernity posed some specific challenges to Christian theology and ecclesiology.  First, modernity brought about the rise of atheism. In the pre-modern era, religious convictions were considered to be  absolute truth.  In modernity, since religious claims could not be scientifically proven, they were considered belief—not fact.  As such religion became a matter of choice and personal preference.  In such a climate, it was conceivable that many individuals would choose to believe that God did not exist.  If anyone denied the existence of God in the pre-modern era, they generally kept their thoughts to themselves.  The idea that some sort of divine entity existed which was responsible for the creation of the cosmos was commonly accepted throughout the pre-modern world.   This commonly held conviction was no longer taken for granted in modernity. 

Along with the specter of atheism, modernity also had an important impact on the Church’s doctrine of soteriology (salvation).  In pre-modern times, salvation was clearly understood to be wholly the work of God—an act of grace through which God provided all humanity the gift of salvation.  The proper human response to the knowledge that God had provided about salvation was a confession of faith, entrance into the church through baptism, and a life of obedience to the commands of Christ as mediated through the teaching offices of the church.  In the modern era, however, the locus of authority shifted from the church as repository of God’s word, to the reasoning, rational individual.  Modernity’s emphasis on the authority of the individual—and the contention that religious conviction was a matter of personal preference and opinion—demanded that the individual had to personally choose or accept salvation.  In the modern church,  salvation was no longer considered to be wholly the work of God.  Instead it had become the work of the individual exercising his or her will by accepting salvation.

In the modern era the authority of the church was also severely challenged—thus providing occasions for alterations in its ecclesiology.   In pre-modern times, the church was looked upon as the repository of absolute truth.  The church stood at the pinnacle of human society as the unifying force bringing about social cohesion.  This was no longer so in modernity.  In modernity, the individual, not the church, was the ultimate authority.  Matters of religious conviction became products of personal choice—not ecclesiastical pronouncement.  In modernity the individual—not the church—became the ultimate authority in matters pertaining to religious conviction.

According to Carl F.H. Henry, the modern era “sought to liberate humanity from the fate of existence in the God-ordered universe” of medieval philosophy.  It did so by relocating the intellectual order of the world in human reason.  The exercise of human reason—the use of scientific investigation—promised “new freedom for humanity and a new era of progress for the planet.” [xi]  Human reason could provide humanity with a peaceful and prosperous world.

In this milieu, churches became places for the gathering of “like-minded individuals.”  The church became voluntaristic collections of individual entities joined by a religious social contract—denomination, creeds and confessional statements (both formal and informal).  Churches became religious communities to which individuals voluntarily pledged their allegiance.  No longer was there a single, monolithic, authoritative Church.  Instead there were many churches. The slogan became attend the church of your choice.

Next blog will look at the decline of modernity and the rise of “post-modernity” – which we defined briefly in previous blogs in this series. 

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[i] Steven Toulin, Cosmopolis:  The Hidden Agenda of Modernity.  (New York:  Free Press, 1990), 57, 212.

[ii] The central theorists of Enlightenment thought were Descartes, Hobbe, and Locke.

[iii] Walter Brueggemann,  Texts Under Negotiation:  The Bible and Postmodern Imagination. (Minneapolis:  Augsburg Fortress, 1993), 5.

[iv] René Descartes, Discourse on Method (1637), second part, quoted in Theology Without Foundations, 10.

[v] Nancey Murphy, “Introduction” in Theology Without Foundations:  Religious Practice and the Future of Theological Truth,  eds. Stanley Hauerwas, Nancy Murphy, and Mark Nation, (Nashville:  Abingdon Press, 1994), 9.

[vi]Stanley Hauerwas, Nancy Murphy, and Mark Nation, Theology Without Foundations , 9.

[vii] A.K.M. Adam, What is Postmodern Biblical Criticism?  (Minneapolis:  Augsburg Fortress, 1995), 5.

[viii]Stanley Hauerwas, Nancy Murphy, and Mark Nation, Theology Without Foundations, 11.

[ix] David S. Dockery, “The Challenge of Postmodernism,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 13.

[x] Toulmin, Cosmopolis, 30-35.

[xi] Carl F.H. Henry, “Postmodernism:  The New Spectre?” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 36

When speaking about paradigms, we refer to the pattern, model, or overall perspective from which the vast majority of persons in a culture gather, interpret, and make use of information to survive and thrive in society.  When we speak of a paradigm shift, we refer to a change taking place in culture that dramatically alters the world view held by the mass of people in society.  The argument of postmodern theorists is that human culture is currently experiencing such a paradigm shift.  Our world view is in a state of transition, moving out of modernity toward postmodernity.  To understand this shift, and the world views it involves, I suggest that we first examine the last major paradigmatic shift—the one that occurred as the cultural world view moved from pre-modern to modernity.

The Pre-modern Period

Roughly speaking, the pre-modern period refers to that epoch of human history preceding the philosophical revolution that took place during the Enlightenment—that philosophical movement of the 18th century that emphasized the use of reason to scrutinize the commonly accepted dogmas, doctrines, and assumptions of mass society.  In essence, then, pre-modern is pre-Enlightenment. 

The paradigm of pre-modernity was most clearly enunciated by Plato, arguably the most important philosopher of the pre-Enlightenment era.   In his writings,[i] Plato (427–347 BCE) described his philosophy.  First, Plato regarded the rational soul as immortal.  Second, Plato also believed in a world soul or a universal consciousness.  Third, Plato argued for the existence of a cosmic force who created the material world out of chaos. Fourth, Plato argued for the existence of an independent reality of Ideas that were the archetype upon which the material world was made and which bore a direct relationship to counterparts in the material world.  In other words, there was a direct relationship between the soul and cosmos.  For Plato, the foundation for order, knowledge, and virtue was a harmonious rational relationship between the human soul with the universe of Ideas.

Plato’s philosophical model—with modifications—became the dominant epistemological paradigm of pre-modernity. The major development of Platonism is associated with Plotinus(205–270 ACE)—perhaps the last of the great non-Christian philosophers of antiquity.[ii]  Instead of Plato’s dualistic world of matter and idea, Plotinus saw reality as one vast hierarchical order containing many levels of reality.  At the center is the One—a reality which brings all subordinate reality into existence in a process called emanation. Emanation leads to the Logos that contained all rational forms. The Logos, in turn, generated the World Soul that linked the intellectual and material worlds.

Eventually, due to the influence of St. Augustine (354-430 ACE), a neoplatonist at the time of his conversion, the basic precepts of neoplatonism were wed to the pre-modern Christian Church.  In this cosmological or realistic epistemology, the basic assumption was that the rational mind was capable of grasping objective truth that was out there.  According to David S. Dockery, pre-modernity states “that knowledge is certain, objective, and obtainable.”[iii]  This included religious knowledge—knowledge about the deity (Plato’s Demiurge, Plontinus’ Unity, or Augustine’s God).  There was a great deal of confidence in the rational mind’s ability to grasp hold of religious matters—especially among non-Christian Greeks.  Along with the rational mind, the church also held to the necessity of revelation and faith in obtaining information about God.

Referring to the pre-modern era, Carl F.H. Henry wrote:

Its worldview elaborated a distinct understanding of the nature and destiny of the human self in a meaningful and purposive universe created and ruled by God.  It embraced a special view of truth and the good and of history and its finalities.  The transcendent, omnipotent, and omniscient Creator has entrusted to humanity the revelatory good news of redemption proffered to sinful humankind in a universe of moral answerability and judgment.[iv]

 Where has God entrusted “the revelatory good news of redemption”?  Where was the information about religious matters to be found in the pre-modern world?  In the church!  The church was the reservoir of objective religious truth. In the pre-modern period, the authority of the church was not in crisis.  On the contrary, as the repository of divine (absolute) truth, the church stood at the pinnacle of public life.  The church was the institution that gave order, direction, and unity to the rest of society. 

In the next post, we will examine the shift that led into the paradign of modernity – the paradign that has dominated the better part of the last five centuries.

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[i] Plato’s more significant writings include the Republic, Phaedo, Symposium, and Timaeus.

[ii] Plotinus modification of Platonic philosophy is referred to as neoplatonism.

[iii] David S. Dockery, “The Challenge of Postmodernism,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 15.

[iv] Carl F.H. Henry, “Postmodernism:  The New Spectre?” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 36.

It the last post, I invited readers to enter the “transition zone,” that place that exists between things as they were and things as they will become.   Like it or not, something is dying in society.  Like it or not, something new is “emerging” in society.  We can deny it, reject it, mourn it, and complain about it – but that will get us nowhere.

 A better option is to understand it and feed what is being birthed with a version of Christianity that is not tainted by traditions and cultural idealogy.  Before we can do that, it might be good to spend a little time exploring what was, the cause of its demise, and an understanding of what seems to be emerging.

John McGowan writes:  “Everyone begins the discussion of postmodernism by asking what the word could possibly mean.”[i]   This is also how I shall begin.  The purpose of this post is to begin defining the term “postmodern.”  Next I will describe six of the contemporary theological and philosophical approaches to postmodernism. Finally, I will offer a modest outline for a postmodern modern theology of evangelism based upon the Anabaptist ecclesiological tradition. 

History of the Term

Michael Kohler traced the origin of the word postmodern to the year 1934, when Frederico de Onize coined the term postmodernismo.[ii]   The most important early use of the word, however, probably did not take place until 1939.  In that year Arnold Toynbee used the word postmodernism to describe the cultural changes taking place in the wake of the resolution of the first world war.[iii]

The so-called postmodern cultural movement in philosophy, theology, the arts, and architecture began in earnest around the year 1960.  From 1960 to the present a diverse number of philosophers and theologians began appearing on the scene associated with the term postmodern.  Among these we include the following:  Jacques Derrida, Richard Rorty, Michael Foucalt, Stanley Fish, David Tracy, Hans Küng, George Lindbeck, David Ray Griffin, Jean-Francois Lyotard, Terry Eagleton, and Michael Kohler. Though diverse in their approaches to this cultural phenomenon, all agreed that humanity was in the middle of a paradigm shift that was altering the way people viewed the issues of life.  All agreed that one world view was in the process of collapse while another was being born.  This new world view was called—for lack of a better term—the “postmodern era.”

Defining Postmodernism:  A Difficult Task

Defining postmodernism is not easy.[iv]  Postmodernism seems to defy adequate definition for two reasons. The first is an excessive and uncritical use of the term.  In current usage, postmodernism has become something of a catch-phrase used to describe anything that is fresh, new, trendy, stylish, and fashionable.   This is especially true in the academy where postmodernism has become a widespread and excessively used term.  Examine the catalogs of almost any college, graduate school, or seminary, and you will discover an overabundance of course offerings addressing the topic of postmodernism.  Everyone seems to be talking about this subject.  Numerous authors insert this term into the titles of their books.  It serves as the subject of occasional PBS documentaries.  It has even become a popular slogan in contemporary advertising campaigns.[v]

R. Albert Mohler has stated:  “Postmodernism, whatever it is, now enjoys that most rare and enviable status of the almost universally acknowledged (though vaguely defined) cultural phenomena.”[vi]   Additionally, as Mohler points out, postmodernism currently serves as sort of  “an umbrella concept covering styles, movements, shifts, and approaches in the field of art, history, architecture, literature, political science, economics, and philosophy—not to mention theology.”[vii]   The inordinate and uncritical use of this word has added to the unclarity of its meaning.

A second reason for the lack of a clear definition for postmodernism is the diversity of opinion about what the concept means among its theorists.[viii]  This diversity of opinion arises primarily because the philosophers who debate this concept attempt to interpret it from the perspective of their particular ideological dispositions.[ix]  R. Albert Mohler writes, “Several of its leading theorists argue . . . that there is not one postmodernism, but many.”[x]   In other words, a meaning for postmodernism is not fixed—it is not a monolithic concept—it is extremely moldable. 

While the paradigmatic shifts taking place as culture moves into a postmodern era should be open to discussion and interpretation, it seems best that the basic definition for the word—as a starting point for discussion—should remain free from such ideological debate.  This is the assumption from which I shall continue, arguing that a definition for postmodernism should set the stage for debate rather than be the object of such debate. I intend to offer a rather brief and straightforward definition for postmodernism.[xi]

A Definition of Postmodernism

What is postmodernism?  David S. Dockery is correct when he states that at its root the term “primarily refers to time rather than a distinct ideology.”[xii]  Postmodernism refers to a period of time—an age, an era, an epoch.  Specifically, this word refers to the time that follows modernity.  Thomas Oden agrees, declaring:

We are pointing not to an ideological program, but rather to a simple succession—what comes next after modernity.  ‘Post’ simply means after, following upon, later than.  So postmodernity in our meaning is nothing more or less enigmatic that what follows modernity.[xiii] 

As we continue, our definition that postmodernism is simply that which “follows modernity.”  Such a definition provides the clarity being sought as a foundation for further discussion.  In addition, this definition opens the door to a significant further area of inquiry that will be necessary to describe postmodernity.  Specifically, to describe postmodernism (that epoch that follows modernity), we must first explore the meaning of the terms modern and pre-modern.

That what’s next in “the transition zone.”

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[i] John McGowan, Postmodernism and Its Critics, (Ithaca, NY:  Cornell University Press, 1991), viii.

[ii] Michael Kohler, “‘Postmodernismus’:  Ein begriffsgeschichtlicher Uberlick,”  Americkastudien 22 (1977): 8-18, cited in R. Albert Mohler, Jr., “The Integrity of the Evangelical Tradition and the Challenge of the Postmodern Paradigm,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism:  An Evangelical Engagement, ed. David S. Dockery (Illinois:  Victor Books/SP Publications, Inc., 1995), 68.

[iii] Thomas Docherty, “Postmodernism:  An Introduction,” in Postmodernism:  A Reader, ed. Thomas Docherty (New York:  Columbia University Press, 1993), 1-2.

[iv] G. Spearritte, “Christianity:  From Modernism to Postmodernism,” Colloquium 24 (October 1992):  67.

[v] A grocery store in my community actually advertised the new beverage Mystic as the drink of a postmodern generation.

[vi] R. Albert Mohler, Jr., “The Integrity of the Evangelical Tradition and the Challenge of the Postmodern Paradigm,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 68.

[vii] Ibid.

[viii] This diversity of opinion concerning the definition of this term results from the general lack of objectivity associated with postmodernism.  Postmodernists tend to reject any form of objective truth.  As such, finding an objective definition for the term postmodern is quite difficult. 

[ix] Which helps explain why some Christians see postmodernism as a bane, while others perceive it to be a blessing.  By ideological dispositions I am referring to labels such as Christian, nonchristian, liberal, conservative, evangelical, etc. 

[x]R. Albert Mohler, Jr., “The Integrity of the Evangelical Tradition, ”  in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 68.

[xi] I make this my goal despite the warnings of  Spearritte and others who argue that such a brief definition of postmodernism should be resisted as inadequate.  Spearritte, 68.

[xii] David S. Dockery, “The Challenge of Postmodernism,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 13.

[xiii] Thomas C. Oden, “The Death of Modernity and Postmodern Evangelical Spirituality,” in The Challenge of Postmodernism, 25.