When Fighting to “Save” Culture Further Desecrates It | Carl Trueman

In his book, The Desecration of Man: How the Rejection of God Degrades Our Humanity, Carl Trueman (author of books like The Creedal Imperative) argues that we, as a society, have “killed God” (not in a metaphysical but in a Nietzschean sense) and therefore inevitably find ourselves desecrating his image, i.e., humanity.

Here I’d like to share one specific insight from the book’s last chapter. Trueman describes those who

…claim adherence both to the creed [orthodox Christian beliefs] and to the cult [Christian worship], but who eschew the code [Christian morality and ethics]. Certain groups within the broader church who connect Christianity to political positions that advocate racial segregation, for example, or the use of violence to achieve political ends fall into this category. … [T]he spirit that negates is alive and well, even among some who claimed to be conservative Christians. They may honor creed and cult at least in theory, but when they indulge in the same kinds of attitudes and behavior that characterize our culture of desecration, whether comparatively trivial online crudity directed at critics or more seriously a Nietzschean obsession with power, they deny the code. They dehumanize their opponents and thus desecrate the image of God that those others represent. They too, therefore, indulge in desecration and form part of the problem. Indeed, if the problem in our society is not one between conservatives and progressives but between different kinds of desecrator, then the issue so many conservatives are worried about, the future of Western civilization, becomes immediately more complicated. How can one “save” Western civilization when one plays by essentially the same rules of desecration as those accused of trying to destroy it?

… 

There is no quick fix here. The right election result or supreme court appointment will not alter the underlying conditions, at least in the short-to-medium term. And that means the temptation to grow angrier and adopt more and more the techniques of desecration in order to “win” will become intense. But that merely breeds yet more desecration. Second, if we are playing the long game—and whatever the online bluster, we really have no choice—then we need to think about incremental transformation of those spheres in which we do have influence, the real embodied neighborhoods, communities, and institutions where we find ourselves. That’s where something like hospitality becomes important. When we eschew the idioms and techniques of the world around us, and open ourselves and our homes to others, we become truly human and indeed treat others as truly human as well. The battle against desecration does not begin so much with boycotts against blasphemous art as with acts of human kindness extended to neighbors. … Hospitality is powerful and transformative, and it is just one, albeit powerful, example of how to treat other people as human beings and not as objects, things, or simply the aggregates of their beliefs on political, cultural, or social issues.

… 

One cannot believe the Apostles’ Creed, recite it in church on a Sunday, and then treat others with snarling contempt for the rest of the week. One cannot believe that the cross is God’s strength made perfect in weakness and exalt the crucified Christ in praise at evensong while adopting attitudes to power and methods of engagement outside of the church service that [closer] are to Nietzsche than the New Testament.1


  1. I transcribed this quotation from an audio version of the book. So there are likely differences between it and the written form, such as differences in punctuation, paragraph breaks, or even unintended transcribal mistakes on my part. ↩︎

A Christian Case Against Christian Nationalism (with Paul Miller)

Talk about “Christian nationalism” is quite the buzz right now. Many are currently decrying it. Some now though are readily embracing the label to champion it. So what exactly is Christian nationalism? And is it something we, as Christians, should be concerned about? Paul Miller answers, “yes,” helping us understand why Christian nationalism is both bad for our neighbors and harmful to the church.

Access the episode here. (Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, Stitcher, and more.)

What the “Social Gospel” & “Christian Nationalism” Both (Ironically) Have in Common

There’s an ironic similarity between (1) “the social gospel” — reducing the gospel and Christian mission to advancing social justice — and (2) “Christian nationalism” — hitching the Christian mission to the church having/maintaining cultural dominance.

Christian cultural and social impact, of course, I believe are good, and flow out of the Christian mission.

But interestingly/ironically, these two socially and politically polar opposite viewpoints — (1) “the social gospel” and (2) “Christian nationalism” — err seemingly in the same way: they misplace the center of the church’s mission with a usurping concern over their social presence.

To the “social gospel” we say, Yes, social justice is a biblical imperative, and its outworking is entailed in Christian mission. But social justice is not itself the gospel, nor should it be equated with biblical “salvation.”

To the “Christian nationalist” we say again, impact on society is admirable. But it’s not the end-all-be-all. Our witness comes first. Cultural domination is not our mission. And when we conceive of it as such, we can find ourselves pursuing it at the expense of our witness.

In short, both (again, ironically) make cultural and social impact paramount at the expense of the soteriological center of our mission.

And ironically both chastise the other for doing what they themselves do: equating their mission with the pursuit of a particular political vision, either the Left’s in the case of the “social gospel,” or the Right’s in the case of “Christian nationalism.”

They’re polar opposite on the political spectrum. But underneath, they share the same warp and woof.