This in response to Pastor Dave Rolph; he is pastor of Pacific Hills Calvary Chapel in Aliso Viejo, CA. He was once principle of Calvary Chapel High
School at Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa, an Associate Pastor at Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa, and a very close associate and confidant of Pastor Chuck Smithâs (founder of the Calvary Chapel movement). I grew up the son of a Conservative Baptist pastor, but in a very formative time of my Christian walk, I attended Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa (about 5 services a week), for approximately 5 years; I attended Calvary Chapel Bible College for a year; was accepted into Calvary Chapel School of Ministry (but did not attend, went to Multnomah instead); and got into part of the âinner circleâ (on the fringes of that part) of Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa leadership because of a friend of mine who lived with the director of the Calvary Chapel School of Ministry. All this to say: I have background and context with Calvary Chapel, which is why I continue to pay attention to it and its leadership.
So, in light of the aforementioned, as I started, let me respond to something that Dave Rolph just posted on his Facebook feed. He is responding to those who have apparently been pressing him on his apparent lack of engagement with all the politics of the day. He wrote in full:
Mixing Manure With Ice Cream
I have stated many times that mixing politics with Christianity is like mixing manure with ice cream. It doesnât hurt the manure, but it ruins the ice cream. In this divided age it is more and more challenging to avoid mixing Christianity with politics. In fact, I find that nowadays oneâs Christianity is generally assessed based on his or her politics. This certainly brings much-needed passion into politics, making it todayâs leading spectator sport, but it is devastating to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
I once asked Pastor Chuck Smith what wouldâve happened if he had endorsed Richard Nixon in 1968 or 1971. He shook his head and said, âOh man! Calvary wouldâve been emptied out and the Jesus Movement wouldâve been over.â
But it isnât only the politics of the Right that threatens the gospel. History is replete with examples of an emphasis on social justice degrading the work of the Spirit as well. How many examples are there of great social work in the name of Christianity that now do good social work without a hint of the gospel, other than a cross as a logo or the name Christian hidden in an acronym somewhere.
Now, I hear the cries from both sides of the spectrum. âWe still believe the Bible and support conservative political causes.â Or, âWe donât compromise doctrinally at all when we also advocate for progressive ideals and against systemic evil.â And I believe you. For now. But history either teaches us well, or we are doomed to repeat it.
The real question should be, âIs there one person out there who might not hear the gospel because my politics turns them off?â There are many points on the political right with which I agree. There are also many points coming from the newly woke crowd with which I agree. If you donât think the slaughter of innocent unborn children is horrible you are a moron, and certainly not a Christian. If you are a racist then you are a moron and certainly not a Christian. But those issues are not the gospel.
I hear from people everyday who are frustrated that I wonât âtake a side.â Iâve taken a side. That side is the pure, unadulterated gospel. Thatâs the ice cream for me.[1]
My off the cuff stream of consciousness response to him was this:
The Gospel is scandalous because it wonât allow for a Swiss neutrality. It is disruptive because it forces the Christian into a scandalous particularity that even on points of political theory must say a loud no or yes. The Christian bears witness to the Kingdom of Christ, which makes it inimically political; with *sides*. The sides may overlap one way or the other, in regard to the horizontal politik we are all ensconced within, whether we like it or not. Wisdom says that to take a particular side, to say yes to a side that has more proximity to the values of the Kingdom, must occur for the Christian. Unfortunately the Gospel is ultimately political, and in this in-between time, it does call us to make the hard decisions of taking a particular side. The side transcends the party or the person, but because of particularity, the side will ultimately, of necessity, collapse into one party or person over another. If the values of the Kingdom, on a grade, are more embodied by one party or person, then the grade slides that direction more than the other. IOW, to remain politically neutral, in my view, is not a corollary of the Gospel. And to attempt an appeal to a *pure Gospel* as the antidote to this dilemma misunderstands just how the Gospel has come to us, and comes afresh and anew, in the timber and blood of the cross of Jesus Christ. The Gospel is this-worldly, just as it is God for us in Christ. As such, while the Gospel gives us an external transcendence to think and live from, it does so immanently in a man from a particular place called Nazareth. If the Gospel is not neutral, than neither can we be. If the Gospel freely stooped down, and took the low-road, then this is our mode of theological existence in the world. To be the fool in Christ, is not to seek a docetic high-road untrammeled by the goings on of this world, but it is to take the byway of Chalcedon wherein the Christian finds standing in what might appear to be foolish and weak vis-Ă -vis the *civilized* world. This implicates how we take stands politically; or it should. Signed, 2 cents.
And his response to me was this: âDave Rolph Bobby Grow Youâd really hate Jesus. And Paul. And Peter. And John.â This wasnât really the response I was expecting; but we can chalk it up to him being in the heat of the moment.
Let me attempt to unpack what I wrote to him a little bit more. All that I was doing was pointing out that the analogy of the Gospel itself does not allow for an apolitical, and neutral approach to any of these things. The Gospel reality itself, starting with the Gospel Hisself, who is the Christ, is stridently political through and through. That is how my comment to Rolph can be boiled down, and should be. I was noting a principled point that is an implicate of the disruptive nature of the Gospel; i.e. that the Christian way can neither be apolitical nor neutral in any way. If the Gospel is the very ground of all reality, if there are no spheres in reality untouched by the reality of the Gospel, as the Gospel is all of creationâs telos (purpose), then it is inconceivable, indeed more, it is incoherent to imagine a world of âpure Gospelâ wherein the Christian can Platonically stand aloof from the concretions of this worldly reality. This is the ground and grammar my reply to Rolph was working from.
While the Gospel re-creates, it doesnât ignore what is confronting this present evil age; indeed, it contradicts it! If the Gospel confronts and contradicts this current world system, then it does so in highly explicit ways that cannot, by definition, remain aloof or âunmixed.â Indeed, the analogy of the incarnation itself says this: that the eternal and triune God, in the second person of that life, in the Son, âmixedâ Himself with humanity that humanity, by the Grace of Adoption might be mixed into Godâs very inner life. That is a disrupting reality that brings with it a holy confrontation to this world order that is highly political, and full of choices of whether a person will stand with Godâs way in Christ, or their way. Attempting to discern what that way is, in the muddle of all the evils in the world, is exactly what the Christian has been called to. This isnât a âmixing,â or better, collapsing of the Gospel into this world order; instead it is recognizing that because God has mixed Himself into this order, by becoming human in Christ, that it is no longer possible to not be âworldlyâ Christians (as Bonhoeffer might note).
Conclusion
To close let me refer us to a definition of apocalyptic theology and what I take to be very important towards how we ought to think of the Christianâs engagement with the world; and what that implies towards developing a genuinely theopolitical approach that does not attempt to hide behind the name of Jesus in retreat from this world system. Philip Ziegler writes:
As Gaventa concisely puts it, âPaulâs apocalyptic theology has to do with the conviction that in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God has invaded the world as it is, thereby revealing the worldâs utter distortion and foolishness, reclaiming the world, and inaugurating a battle that will doubtless culminate in the triumph of God over all Godâs enemies (including the captors Sin and Death). This means that the Gospel is first, last, and always about Godâs powerful and gracious initiative.â Inasmuch as it is an expression of specifically Christian faith, âapocalyptic theology always and everywhere denotes a theology of liberation in an earth that is dying and plagued by evil powers.
In the words of Donald MacKinnon, its subject matters in nothing less than âGodâs own protest against the world He has made, by which at the same time that world is renewed and reborn.â[2]
And:
For my own part, I am certainly drawn to the task of envisaging an apocalyptic theology for âardently Protestantâ reasons. For it seems to me that, understood as it is here, apocalyptic is a discursive idiom uniquely suited to articulate the radicality, sovereignty, and militancy of adventitious divine grace; just so it is of real import to the dogmatic work of testing the continued viability of Protestant Christian faith. . . . The apocalyptic idiom starkly illumines at one and the same time both the drastic and virulent reality of human captivity and complicity in sin, and the extraordinary power of saving divine grace that outbids it, reminding us that things are at once much worse yet also paradoxically far, far better than we could possibly imagine them to be.[3]
You will note the reference to âliberation theology,â which I repudiate. But the theologian doesnât have to adopt liberation theology (and its latent Marxism) in order to appreciate the point about Godâs invasion into this world, and what that implies about the Christianâs engagement with the world. I agree with Rolph that we donât want a non-Gospel issue to become a stumbling block that stands in the way of a person coming to Christ (which is a very âconversionistâ and I would say, Pelagian way to think), but to say that we ought to find a neutral ground for the Gospel, in order to achieve that, fundamentally misunderstands just what the radical implications of the Gospel are. Christians donât live in abstraction from this world, we live in it as witnesses to the order of Godâs life and kingdom that has transected, contradicted, and re-created this world system in such a way that to remain abstract from that reality misrepresents exactly what this world needs! The Gospel is the Good News of God to the world precisely because it is the most political statement ever announced: i.e. that Jesus is King!!
[1] Dave Rolph, Facebook Post, accessed 08-16-2020.
[2] Philip G. Ziegler, Militant Grace: The Apocalyptic Turn and the Future of Christian Theology (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2018), loc 162, 171 kindle.
[3] Ibid., loc 214, 224.