Thomas Torrance On American evangelical Churches Gone to Seed, Personality Cults, and the Worship of Pastors Rather than Jesus: With Reference to Mark Driscoll

I just listened to the Christianity Today podcast by Mike Cosper entitledĀ The Rise and Fall of Mars HillĀ (multiple episodes). I wrote the following post many years ago, and make some reference to Driscoll. I think it is timely to re-share it now.

This post will somewhat dovetail with my second to last post on The Great Implosion of North American Evangelicalism. Except in this post a theological critique will be made with appeal to Thomas Torrance’s critique of Protestant evangelicalism and its tendency toward personality cults, in regard to its leadership, and what he calls Protestant sacerdotalism.

Instead of following the kind of socio-cultural critique that my rant in that other post was somewhat following, here Torrance identifies a theological pathology deeply entrenched in the ecclesiology and pastoral polity that we find orienting Protestant leadership and church model. The critique has to do with the centrality that the pastor has taken for evangelicals; i.e. the elevation of the pastor as the end-all for the people in the church. So we see things like this in mega-churches and small non-denominational start-up churches alike; if the pastor of said church leaves, or something happens, that whole church collapses, or it becomes something totally different with totally different people, and so on.

The most recent example of this that I can think of is Mark Driscoll (and I don’t want this post to be about him). But his Mars church has fallen, it has folded, and he has moved on. He is now starting a new church, with new people, in a new city, and his reign continues. Not because Jesus is Lord, per se, but because Driscoll’s type of charisma and appeal resonates with evangelicals seeking their next mediator between God and man. What Driscoll is experiencing, in various ways on a continuum could be pointed up as an evangelical phenomenon that has swept all across the Protestant evangelical church; whether that be in North America, Western Europe, Canada, or everywhere.

Here is Torrance’s theological critique of what is going on with all of this:

But what has happened in Protestant worship and ministry? Is it not too often the case that the whole life and worship of the congregation revolves around the personality of the minister? He is the one who is in the centre; he offers the prayers of the congregation; he it is who mediates ā€˜truth’ through his personality, and he it is who mediates between the people and God through conducting the worship entirely on his own. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the case of the popular minister where everything centres on him, and the whole life of the congregation is built around him. What is that but Protestant sacerdotalism, sacerdotalism which involves the displacement of the Humanity of Christ by the humanity of the minister, and the obscuring of the Person of Christ by the personality of the minister? How extraordinary that Protestantism should thus develop a new sacerdotalism, to be sure a psychological rather than a sacramental sacerdotalism, but a sacerdotalism nonetheless, in which it is the personality of the minister which both mediates the Word of God to man and mediates the worship of man to God! Protestant Churches are full of these ā€˜psychological priests’ and more and more they evolve a psychological cult and develop a form of psychological counseling which displaces the truly pastoral ministry of Christ. How frequently, for example, the minister’s prayers are so crammed with his own personality (with all its boring idiosyncrasies!) that the worshipper cannot get past him in order to worship God in the name of Christ—but is forced to worship God in the name of the minister! How frequently the sermon is not an exposition of the Word of God but an exposition of the minister’s own views on this or that subject! And how frequently the whole life of the congregation is so built up on the personality of the minister that when he goes the congregation all but collapses or dwindles away![1]

Torrance wrote this in 1965, and yet it sounds as if he is making commentary to a ā€œTā€ on the Protestant evangelical church as it currently stands (and as it currently goes to seed). The theological critique, if you missed it, is that the humanity of the minister has displaced the humanity of Christ as the center of the church; as such, as the pastor goes, so goes the church.

I realize this post and the other one are quite critical, and really not that constructive. But sometimes there is a time to be such! The evangelical church is sinking in my view, and for the reasons that Torrance highlights for us here. Jesus is no longer the center (if He ever was) in evangelicalism; the turn to the self, and the subject has become the norming norm of how evangelical churches largely operate. Who cares if there are good intentions, those destroy people, usually! All that matters is, Jesus! And if he is not all that matters at a basic level for evangelical churches then they will indeed implode, and they ought to. The unfortunate thing, though, is that as evangelical churches implode they are taking real life people along with them. What did Jesus say about those who would make children stumble at His name … something about a mill-stone and water. I think that’s where most of the evangelical church is at!

[1] T.F. Torrance, Theology in Reconstruction (Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1965), 167-68.

The Young, Restless, & Reformed—Matt Chandler, Mark Driscoll, Kevin DeYoung, Justin Taylor—Getting to Know Their Calvinist History and Present

In light of my last post, and to help set up some of my next posts (which will be to review an interview that John Piper did with Matt Chandler on Chandler’s appropriation of 5 Point Calvinism, and how he now preaches it in every sermon he gives) I want to provide some clarification on where Calvinism came from. I have blown this trumpet for years, and this has become common fare in the theological literature (in other words this is not news to the theologian); but I don’t think I can sound this alarm enough, nor do I intend on necessarily speaking to the theologian. I want to speak to folk who don’t have exposure to this kind of stuff on a daily basis; I want you, the lay or even pastoral Christian to get a better grasp on the history of Christian ideas, as it has bequeathed what we know as Calvinism and Arminianism today.

My personal chapter for mine and Myk Habet’s forthcoming edited book has to do with an aspect that involves the particular issue that I am addressing in this post. The issue is what has been called classical theism. Classical theism is basically what happened when Thomas Aquinas (medieval theologian par excellence) synthesized Aristotle’s philosophical categories with Christian doctrine. This, in general, is what has given shape to most of Western Christianity in the centuries following; and what has given us the ongoing battle between Calvinism and Arminianism (which is an interesting battle because they are just two different sides of the same doctrinal coin). To help clarify and establish what classical theism is; and my assertion to what effect classical theism has had on ā€˜your’ Christianity today, I am going to appeal to Kevin Vanhoozer’s comments on the same subject. Vanhoozer writes:

ā€œEvangelical theologians live in the house that Thomas built.ā€ While this is too simplistic, it is true that most evangelical theologians embrace some form of classical theism of which Thomas Aquinas was the leading medieval exponent. Classical theism began when Christian apologists of the second century somewhat necessarily used then dominant concepts of Greek philosophy to commend the faith, and the Scriptures, to the cultured despisers of religion. Theists define God as being of infinite perfection.: all-holy, all-powerful, all-knowing, and everywhere present.

Classical theism refers to what has long been presumed as a synthesis worked out in the ancient and medieval church between biblical Christianity and Greek philosophy, and in particular between ā€œGodā€ and Aristotle’s notion of the ā€œUnmoved Moverā€ (or Uncaused Cause). The Unmoved Mover is a perfect being: self-sufficient, eternal, and pure actuality (actus purus). From the latter — that God has no unrealized potential — Aristotle deduced that the Unmoved Mover must be immutable, because any change would be either for better or worse, and a perfect being is already as good as it can, and will for ever, be. God must not therefore have a body, because all bodies can be moved, so God is not material but immaterial. So: God sets the world into motion yet nothing moves God.

Thomas Aquians did not appropriate Aristotle’s Unmoved Mover wholesale. He realized that philosophy (a.k.a. ā€œnatural theologyā€) takes us only so far. Reason yields knowledge concerning the world of nature and, by extension, its Creator, but only revelation gives knowledge of the realm of grace and hence of the Son and Spirit. Nevertheless, by employing Aristotelian categories (e.g. substance, form, essence) and by conceding some knowledge of God to reason alone, the die of classical theism was arguably cast.

The first part of Aquinas’s Summa discusses the ā€œone God (de Deo Uno) and treats themes accessible to natural reason — doctrines that would be held in common by Christians, Jews, and Arabs alike. Here we find discussions of God’s existence, unity, nature, and attributes. Aquinas treats the ā€œthree personsā€ (de Deo Trino) second, when he turns to the truths of revelation. He consequently presents the divine attributes before he even begins referring to the Incarnation and passion of the Son; in brief, he has been read as thinking about God apart from the gospel.

Seven hundred years later Charles Hodge would define theism in a way that seems to recall Aquinas: God is the ens perfectissimum (ā€œmost perfect beingā€) and theism is ā€œthe doctrine of an extra-mundane, personal God, the creator, preserver, and governor of the world.ā€ Hodge also cites the Westminster Catechism, which gives what is ā€œ[p]robably the best definition of God ever penned by manā€: ā€œGod is a Spirit, infinite, eternal, and unchangeable, in his being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth.ā€ (Kevin J. Vanhoozer, The triune God of the Gospel, in The Cambridge Companion To Evangelical Theology, edited by Timothy Larsen and Daniel J. Treier, p. 19-20)

My personal chapter for our book, interestingly, develops some of what Vanhoozer here sketches in his own chapter (I hadn’t read this until after I had already submitted my chapter, I probably would’ve at least footnoted Vanhoozer here). Anyway, What I would like you to see is that there is a history; and there is also a linkage between Thomas Aquinas, and then through a post-Reformation theologian named Francis Turretin, and then to Charles Hodge who translated Turretin’s Latin ā€˜Elenctic Theology’ which became what he taught from, and the ground for most Reformed and Evangelical theologies following through even into the present. Classical Theism’s reach is deep and wide, and whether you know it or not; you most likely have been and/or are being affected by its reach right now.

There is no doubt that the so called Young, Restless, & Reformed like Mark Driscoll, Matt Chandler, Kevin DeYoung, Justin Taylor and their mentors like Tim Keller, John Piper, D. A. Carson, Al Mohler, Mark Dever, et al. have all been heavily influenced by—in fact are steeped in it—by classical theism. This is the philosophical basis that has been given both academic and popular expression in what we know as Calvinism and Arminianism today. It will not be until someone grasps this, that there will be the ability present for pastors, theologians, and lay folk alike to disentangle the actual gospel from the captivity the Gospel has been in, in the clutches of classical theism.

Stay tuned for a brief engagement with Matt Chandler’s Calvinism as we watch a video interview of him with Piper on his appropriation of Calvinism; in the days to come. Not only will I use what we just described here as classical theism to understand what informs Chandler’s (et al.) Calvinism, but I will also expand the discussion out to critique something else that Chandler just barely mentions (I’ve heard him give a whole sermon on it in the past); that is, what he believes are ā€˜the two wills of God’—something Chandler feels he must have to deal with what he perceives as two mutually exclusive movements of God that cannot be reconciled without appealing to two wills. I will show how this comes from not only classical theism, but from an even more focused perspective; how it flows from the nominalist understanding of God’s ā€˜absolute power’ V. his ā€˜ordained power’. It would be great if Chandler and other guys in his movement would read along, but I doubt that! I hope you’ll read it though!!

Mark Driscoll Sees Things! Discernment

Mark Driscoll is a flamboyant youngish pastor in the Seattle, Washington area; just up the road from us. He is what is known as a “Reformed Charismatic,” meaning that he holds to the 5 points of Calvinism, soteriologically; and that he also is what is called a Continuationist (in contrast to a Cessationist) — meaning that he believes in the “Sign Gifts” (like tongues, visions, prophecy [new revelation in a particular sense] etc.). I was just alerted to a sermon he gave at his church in 2008 entitled Christus Victor. Apparently the context for the sermon has to do with “Spiritual Warfare,” and in the clip, provided below, he is recounting his “gift” of spiritual discernment. He describes this gift as one that allows him to See Things that have happened to people in their personal lives; destructive things, immoral things, criminal things — sad things. The things he recounts in this clip are not for the faint of heart; so if you have a faint heart, don’t watch. Here’s the video:

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I’d like to know what you think about this. Do you think that what Driscoll describes is in fact descriptive of what the Bible considers the gift of discernment? I can think of at least one instance, involving Elijah (as I recall), wherein he has a similar thing happen to him (similar to Driscoll’s account). As I type, I also recall another instance involving Ezekiel (I think in chapter 8 or so), wherein Yahweh provides a vision for Ezekiel where he sees all kinds of gross sexual immorality and idolatry involving the Priests of Israel. Anyway, I say this to note that what Driscoll is saying is not without biblical precedent; I just wonder if you think that this precedent is continuous into the present life of the Christian church, and in the way that Driscoll describes it for himself? Let me know . . .