The Last Christian on Earth

by Os Guinness

You can see it clearly in the so-called “secular theology” of the ’60s (an oxymoron if ever there was one). Had newly adopted assumptions about secularity made transcendence embarrassing and immanence all-important? Then it was time to discard old images and replace old practices, each one buried in its regulation shroud of caricature. God, they said, was not “a grandfather in the sky,” but “the ground of being.” Prayer was not a matter of “celestial shopping lists,” but of meditation.

  Liberalism of this sort is refreshing to work with. It is unblushingly frank compared with the closet liberalism of the self-proclaimed conservatives. The conservatives have lost the objectivity of Christian truth as surely as if they had abandoned it publicly once and for all. Their Christian message has been cut down to size too. Not dramatically and deliberately as with the proclaimed liberals, but no less decisively. (They have a special place for blessing, prosperity and success. But what of suffering, discipline or simple lifestyles?) In each case the overall movement is inexorable: Something modern is assumed; something traditional must be abandoned.

  Step 3: Adaptation

  The third step in the seduction follows as logically from the second as the second from the first. Something new is assumed, something old is abandoned, and everything else is adapted.4 In other words, what remains of traditional beliefs and practices is altered to fit with the new assumption. The new assumption, after all, has become authoritative. It has entered the mind or the lifestyle like a new boss, and everything must smartly change to suit its preferences and its perspectives. What is not abandoned does not stay the same; it is adapted.

  The direction in which adaptations are made depends, of course, on the new boss. Is he a workaholic? Weekends are likely to be shorter. Is he tightfisted? Expense accounts are likely to be trimmed. The same is true of the new assumptions. If the liberals uncritically assume certain post-modern premises, the adaptation will come out one way. If they assume premises from Marxism, existentialism, pantheism, psychotherapy, capitalism, feminism, or the homosexual agenda, the results will be as varied and distinctive as these philosophies.

  We take our cue from the assumption, so there is no surprise in the result. Assumptions produce conclusions as seeds produce fruit. The only surprise in this part of the Operation is in the ingenuity with which each assumption is pursued and the solemnity with which each conclusion is announced.

  Christian beliefs or Christian behavior can equally be adapted, and we can concentrate on one or the other as strategy dictates. A simple example is the way traditional words are redefined so that what was once prohibited is now permitted. Take the case of marriage vows. Conventional marriage, certain Christian liberals say, is for conventional people. For all others, marriage is conditional. But what, gasps the conservative, of the clear Christian vow, “till death us do part”?

  “Ah,” they reply. “You’re interpreting it in a wooden, flat-earth way. It means not only physical death but psychological and emotional death. In other words, it is talking of the breakdown of authentic relationship. Divorce is right and proper for a Christian if the marriage relationship dies. Once you see it that way, in fact, you can say that a person was never truly married in the first place, so the problems of divorce and remarriage need never arise.”

  If the direction of the adaptation depends on the nature of the assumption, remember that the lengths to which it is taken will depend partly on the assumption and partly on the character of the adapter. A middle-aged Englishman is likely to be somewhat milder in manner than a youthful German, and his new theology or new ethic will probably reflect this.

  We must always work particularly to encourage positions that sound moderate but are radical in implication. Take the current epidemic of “theologies of the genitive” (a theology of sex, a theology of psychology, a theology of politics and so on). At first sight, nothing looks more admirable from their point of view. Here, they claim, is an attempt to think “Christianly” and develop a Christian perspective on a particular subject.

  But thinking “Christianly” is still no more than a mushy notion to many of them. Most Christians are more aware of what it does not mean than what it does (what it does not mean is often the only topic on which they agree). As a result, the current rash of theologies of the genitive is largely an outbreak of secularism. Far from being “the Christian mind” on sex or world development or art or whatever, nine times out of ten it is a warmed-over version of the contemporary mind with a Christian rationale tacked on.

  As with the second step, this third step cannot be faulted, logically or theologically, if considered on its own. Adaptability, it cannot be denied, is a prerequisite of any cross-cultural communication. Christians were counseled not to put old wine into new wineskins, and the Christian faith has shown an unrivaled genius for adaptability. Obviously, there is some risk of distortion in any adaptation or translation, but the alternative to taking risks is ossification, which to the liberally minded is a fate worse than death. But once an uncritical and un-Christian assumption has been made, any adaptation will be a betrayal—by definition.

  Step 4: Assimilation

  The fourth step in the seduction is the logical culmination of the first three. Something modern is assumed (step one). As a consequence, something traditional is abandoned (step two), and everything else is adapted (step three). If this is exploited well, we can then drive the liberal stance toward the point where the leftover Christian assumptions are not only adapted to but absorbed by the modern ones.5 This is the fourth step (assimilation), where the original half-truth of liberalism (flexibility) develops into full-blown compromise or worldliness, and the Christian faith capitulates to some aspect of the culture of its day.

  This worldliness is the culmination of the seduction of the liberal just as it is the central goal of our entire Operation. Previous memos are strewn with examples that illustrate this step, especially the various counterfeit religions. Every example simultaneously discredits the power of spiritual conversion and demonstrates the pull of social reversion. Who is impressed by Christian thought or Christian life that has been absorbed by and assimilated into its culture with no distinctive remainder?

  Christians who take this fourth step are more accurately described as revisionists rather than liberals. They have revised the faith to the point at which it is essentially different and even unrecognizable—what cranky old Paul complained about as “another gospel.” In extreme cases we can pull off a degree of assimilation that is not only clear but deliberate, giving the impression of a kind of “kamikaze Christianity” bent on its own destruction.

  Take the example of the Marxist Christian Movement founded in France in the 1970s.6 One of my former agents worked on this, so I have followed it closely (and have recommended him for promotion on the strength on it). When the debates among the members of the Movement became bogged down, they agreed that the point of unity should no longer be Christian commitment but political action (step one achieved). This then led to a shift in thinking. No longer were political opinion and action to be viewed as a necessary consequence of Christian commitment (step two achieved). Instead, whatever attention was given to the Christian faith was considered to be just a part of the wider political commitment (step three achieved).

  Not surprisingly, Christian commitment was eventually devoured whole by political commitment (step four achieved). Although the title Marxist Christians originally meant Christians (subject) who are Marxists (predicate), the order virtually came to be reversed. The predicate got the best of it, and many who still wanted to be Christian withdrew from the Movement, bewildered. Marxism was obligatoire, Christianity optional. Marxist theory had seized possession of Christian meaning as effectively as any group of workers taking over a factory floor.

  Christians are often blind to this sort of quicksand because of the profusion of Christian words and references in the modern world. Little do they realize that the Christian faith is like the majestic ruins of an ancient cathedral from whi
ch stones are plundered for the construction of countless other buildings. Politicians quarry from its vocabulary, psychiatrists dip into its treasury of practices and symbols, and advertisers mimic the resonance of its acoustics. Each pillager uses just what he finds convenient, but the decisiveness of any distinctive Christian truth has gone.

  There are two main forms of assimilation toward which we should pilot liberal Christians. One is assimilation to modern ideas, as the Christian faith surrenders to an ostensibly superior frame of reference in its pursuit of meaning. The other is assimilation to modern institutions, as the Christian faith surrenders to an ostensibly superior cause or group in its pursuit of belonging.

  The clearest example of the first surrender is theological liberalism. Its history since its rise in Germany in the eighteenth century is virtually the history of the passing philosophical and cultural presuppositions of its day, for liberal theology follows the spirit of the day as predictably as a tail follows a dog. Many liberals would dispute this indignantly, but the best evidence is found in the liberal theologians’ criticism of their own predecessors. And what do they criticize? Their predecessors’ uncritical adherence to the philosophical and cultural presuppositions of their day.

  Look, for example, at a real liberal’s liberal—Adolf von Harnack. How was his “liberal Protestant Jesus” dismissed? “The Christ that Harnack sees,” said one critic famously, “is only the reflection of a Liberal Protestant face seen at the bottom of a deep well.”7 Modern theology, as another of his critics puts it, “mixes history with everything and ends by being proud of the skill with which it finds its own thoughts.”8

  There you have it. Study today’s philosophy, and tomorrow’s new theology will come as no surprise. The former Queen of the Sciences has lost her throne and is now earning her living as a fashion model. Scientific positivism? Existentialism? Process philosophy? Feminism? Post-modernism? The dictates and whims of the best European houses determine each season’s new lines, although in this case the fashionable designers are usually German rather than French.

  The second form of surrender—institutional—is less immediately obvious, but its general dynamic is plain. Christians need to make sense of their world and therefore search for new forms of meaning when traditional certainty is shaken. But they also need to find stability for their lives and therefore search for new forms of belonging when their traditional communities are challenged. Such times provide us with a golden opportunity.

  Take the case of young American conservatives woken up by the 1960s. Suddenly and rudely awakened by the earthquake of the counter-culture, they rubbed their eyes in disbelief at what they saw of their country and their class. After Vietnam and Watergate, the country for many of them was “Amerika,” and their class was the hollow, hypocritical and uncaring “bourgeoisie.”

  Regardless of whether this was true, it was traumatic. They were not only radicalized, they were suddenly dislocated from their traditions and dispossessed of their emotional and psychological homes. So the search was on for new homes, new forms of belonging, and new flags of identification. The results you know well: The passionate pursuit of new causes and the intense identification with new groups (Blacks, women, the Third World, the Left and so on).

  Sincere as this search may have been, it was also insecure. It was therefore natural for us to push them into taking positions for psychological and sociological reasons and not only theological ones. What do you see as you look back? A good part of it was an ideology of disaffection, as spiritual ideas served as weapons for the social interests of a generation feeling betrayed by its country and its class. Of course, they bred a reaction to themselves that contributed to the rise of the Christian right. But as that fails in its turn, we will see the ’60s trends recycled again.

  The advantage to us remains the same. In each case, all they do is exchange an uncritical attachment to one group for an equally uncritical attachment to another. Whether their concern is the comforts of the middle class or any polar opposite is a matter of indifference to us. Our sole concern is that the adherence be uncritical and the assimilation complete.

  Exposing the Liberal

  The liberal road toward compromise is rarely taken knowingly. Nor, regrettably, is it always traveled completely. Simple factors like character and time sometimes frustrate our best efforts and keep some Christians from going the whole way. (This is part of the difference between the mild liberal, the “trendy,” and the extreme revisionist, the “traitor.”) But the further liberalism and revisionism go, and the more extreme they become, and the more disloyal and damaging they are to the Christian faith.

  Our tactics at this point hinge on a carefully executed about-turn. Having seduced extreme revisionists into a compromising situation, we suddenly turn and confront them with its consequences. In other words, we drop the slow and deliberate coaxing tactics and switch to a sudden and dramatic confrontation. The result is often shattering. The cruel exposure of extreme revisionists always has repercussions—sometimes on the revisionists themselves, but always on Christian conservatives and on complete outsiders.

  Here are some of the main problems for us to exploit in the full-blown liberal/revisionist stance toward the modern world.

  1. Inconsistency

  The first problem is purely theoretical, so it will matter only to a minority of observers, although with them it may be crucial. The problem is this: In stark contrast to its claims to be sharp, critical and tough-minded, extreme liberalism is often theoretically inconsistent and quite unself-critical. The reason is that extreme liberals adopt their assumptions in an inconsistent and unself-critical way, although the subsequent steps they take may be logically proper and unquestionable.9

  How does this happen? In the first place, they fail to make a Christian critique of the assumption, so that it is not adopted “Christianly”—instead it is assumed before it is assessed in the light of any Christian belief. The usual passage from description to evaluation or from analysis to assumption is concertinaed carelessly. The new truth is assumed not only un-Christianly (in a narrow sense proper to Christians) but un-critically (in a broader sense common to all thinkers). Finally, the new and unexamined modern assumption is invited to sit in judgment on all previous assumptions.

  What liberals do not see until too late is that they have indulged in a sort of favoritism with a hidden double standard, adding insult to injury. They reject and abandon traditional Christian assumptions and criticize them for being “products of their time.” And by what criteria? By those of modern assumptions, which are no less a product of their time and assumed with even less criticism.

  I am not suggesting that, if Christians were more rigorous, they would reject all modern assumptions and practices (though doubtless some conservatives might try). Obviously it would be in their interest to accept some and reject others after examining all of them critically and from their Christian perspective. Take postmodernism (or any modern belief). The fact that postmodernism happens to be one of the languages of the day means that Christians would have to know it and work with it. But to make the Christian faith postmodern uncritically would be both stupid and unnecessary to their cause.

  The mistake of the extreme liberal and the revisionist might be called the idolatry of relevance and the fallacy of “the-newer-the-truer” and the “latest is greatest.” The obsession with change and with the future, which are at the heart of modern “fast-life,” seems to have gone to their heads, and they are acting like moonstruck, teen-age groupies. Liberal revisionism is far from the tough-minded exercise it claims to be, and its repercussions all play into our hands. Seeing such folly, the conservative is scandalized, the outsider is amused, and (if he ever admits what he has done) the revisionist is embarrassed. The pity is that this inconsistency is seen by so few. Extreme revisionism is the perfect twin to extreme conservatism. The poor thinking is simply in a different place.

  2. Timidity

  The second problem of liber
al revisionism again concerns the gap between its promise and its performance. In its early stages, liberalism gives the appearance of relentless honesty, courageous enterprise and daring investigation. Not for the liberal the drawbridge defensiveness of the conservative and the old, worn paths. The modern world is a brave new world, a world for the open-minded to explore and for the adventurous to exploit. Liberalism, according to its own press release, is bold and spectacular, and it also knows how to make the news.

  So we encourage them to think in the early stages. But study the later stages of liberalism-turned-revisionism. What of the record beyond the rhetoric? What about the repeated unwillingness to negotiate on Christian terms rather than on those of modernity? Why is it always the faithful who are scandalized and not, even occasionally, the world? Why do the liberals’ open encounters always seem to end in the world’s bed? Why is it always liberalism and not modernity that runs up the white flag?

  Ask questions like that, and you see that for all its purported daring, liberalism is surprisingly timid, remarkably diffident about speaking or acting unless covered by some redeeming “relevance.” This is part of the answer to your concern about the Operation’s being threatened because the cultural tide is changing. To some extent you are correct: many of the toughest beliefs of the Christian faith could be ideas whose time has come again. As you say, the Christian notion of love may come perilously close to curing the disillusionments of commercialized romance. Or the Christian concept of evil might be rediscovered as radical and realistic as they struggle with the unspeakable horror and senselessness of terrorism and genocide.

  You have read the cultural climate well, but your fears are groundless. Consider these brave liberals. They are afraid to challenge conventional wisdom at point after point, and embarrassed to question current optimism about human nature. Ideas whose time has come they discard as opinions whose day is done. Like the well-known “buy high, sell low” of the stock-market simpleton, they buy into modern ideas at the peak of their influences and sell out on Christian ideas just when modern thinkers are about to rediscover them.