The Truth War

by John MacArthur

  If you were to challenge me to boil down postmodern thought into its pure essence and identify the gist of it in one single, simple, central characteristic, I would say it is the rejection of every expression of certainty. In the postmodern perspective, certainty is regarded as inherently arrogant, elitist, intolerant, oppressive—and therefore always wrong.

  THE POSTMODERNIST

  RECOILS FROM ABSOLUTES

  AND DOES NOT WANT TO

  CONCEDE ANY TRUTHS

  THAT MIGHT SEEM

  AXIOMATIC OR SELF-EVIDENT.

  INSTEAD, TRUTH,

  IF ACKNOWLEDGED AT ALL,

  BECOMES SOMETHING

  INFINITELY PLIABLE AND

  ULTIMATELY UNKNOWABLE

  IN ANY OBJECTIVE SENSE.

  The demise of modernity and the resulting blow to rationalistic human arrogance is certainly something to celebrate. From a spiritual perspective, however, the rise of postmodernism has been anything but a positive development.

  Postmodernism has resulted in a widespread rejection of truth and the enshrinement of skepticism. Postmodernists despise truth claims. They also spurn every attempt to construct a coherent worldview, labeling all comprehensive ideologies and belief systems “metanarratives,” or grand stories. Such “stories,” they say, can’t possibly do justice to everyone’s individual perspective, and therefore they are always inadequate.

  Postmodernism’s preference for subjectivity over objectivity makes it inherently relativistic. Naturally, the postmodernist recoils from absolutes and does not want to concede any truths that might seem axiomatic or self-evident. Instead, truth, if acknowledged at all, becomes something infinitely pliable and ultimately unknowable in any objective sense.

  Postmodernism therefore signals a major triumph for relativism—the view that truth is not fixed and objective, but something individually determined by each person’s unique, subjective perception. All this is ultimately a vain attempt to try to eliminate morality and guilt from human life.

  GETTING PROPOSITIONS OFF THE PREMISES

  One other extremely important point has to be mentioned with regard to postmodern notions of truth: Postmodernists are generally suspicious of rational and logical forms. They especially do not like to discuss truth in plain propositional terms.

  As we are seeing, postmodernism is largely a reaction against the unbridled rationalism of modernity. But many postmodernists’ response to rationalism is a serious overreaction. Lots of postmodernists seem to entertain the notion that irrationality is superior to rationalism.

  Actually, both ways of thinking are dead wrong and equally hostile to authentic truth and biblical Christianity. One extreme is as deadly as the other. Rationalism needs to be rejected without abandoning rationality.

  Rationality (the right use of sanctified reason through sound logic) is never condemned in Scripture. Faith is not irrational. Authentic biblical truth demands that we employ logic and clear, sensible thinking. Truth can always be analyzed and examined and compared under the bright light of other truth, and it does not melt into absurdity. Truth by definition is never self-contradictory or nonsensical. And contrary to popular thinking, it is not rationalism to insist that coherence is a necessary quality of all truth. Christ is truth incarnate, and He cannot deny himself (2 Timothy 2:13). Self-denying truth is an absolute contradiction in terms. “No lie is of the truth” (1 John 2:21).

  Nor is logic a uniquely “Greek” category that is somehow hostile to the Hebrew context of Scripture. (That is a common myth and a gross oversimplification that is often set forth in support of postmodernism’s flirtation with irrationality.) Scripture frequently employs logical devices, such as antithesis, if-then arguments, syllogisms, and propositions. These are all standard logical forms, and Scripture is full of them. (See, e.g., Paul’s long string of deductive arguments about the importance of the resurrection in 1 Corinthians 15:12–19.)

  Yet we often encounter people enthralled with postmodern ideas who argue vehemently that truth cannot be expressed in bare propositions like mathematical formulae. Even some professing Christians nowadays argue along these lines: “If truth is personal, it cannot be propositional. If truth is embodied in the person of Christ, then the form of a proposition can’t possibly express authentic truth. That is why most of Scripture is told to us in narrative form—as a story—not as a set of propositions.”

  The reason behind postmodernism’s contempt for propositional truth is not difficult to understand. A proposition is an idea framed as a logical statement that affirms or denies something, and it is expressed in such a way that it must be either true or false. There is no third option between true and false. (This is the “excluded middle” in logic.) The whole point of a proposition is to boil a truth-statement down to such pristine clarity that it must be either affirmed or denied. In other words, propositions are the simplest expressions of truth value used to express the substance of what we believe. Postmodernism, frankly, cannot endure that kind of stark clarity.

  In reality, however, postmodernism’s rejection of the propositional form turns out to be totally untenable. It is impossible to discuss truth at all—or even tell a story—without resorting to the use of propositions. Until fairly recently, the validity and necessity of expressing truth in propositional form was considered self-evident by virtually everyone who ever studied logic, semantics, philosophy, or theology. Ironically, to make any cogent argument against the use of propositions, a person would have to employ propositional statements! So every argument against propositions is instantly self-defeating.

  Let’s be clear: truth certainly does entail more than bare propositions. There is without question a personal element to the truth. Jesus Himself made that point when He declared Himself truth incarnate. Scripture also teaches that faith means receiving Christ for all that He is—knowing Him in a real and personal sense and being indwelt by Him—not merely assenting to a short list of disembodied truths about Him (Matthew 7:21–23).

  So it is quite true that faith cannot be reduced to mere assent to a finite set of propositions (James 2:19). I have made that point repeatedly in previous books. Saving faith is more than a merely intellectual nod of approval to the bare facts of a minimalist gospel outline. Authentic faith in Christ involves love for His person and willingness to surrender to His authority. The human heart, will, and intellect all consent in the act of faith. In that sense, it is certainly correct, even necessary, to acknowledge that mere propositions can’t do full justice to all the dimensions of truth.

  On the other hand, truth simply cannot survive if stripped of propositional content. While it is quite true that believing the truth entails more than the assent of the human intellect to certain propositions, it is equally true that authentic faith never involves anything less. To reject the propositional content of the gospel is to forfeit saving faith, period.

  Postmodernists are uncomfortable with propositions for an obvious reason: they don’t like the clarity and inflexibility required to deal with truth in propositional form. A proposition is the simplest form of any truth claim, and postmodernism’s fundamental starting point is its contempt for all truth claims. The “fuzzy logic” of ideas told in “story” form sounds so much more elastic—even though it really is not. Propositions are necessary building blocks for every means of conveying truth—including stories.

  But the attack on propositional expressions of truth is the natural and necessary outworking of postmodernism’s general distrust of logic, distaste for certainty, and dislike for clarity. To maintain the ambiguity and pliability of “truth” necessary for the postmodern perspective, clear and definitive propositions must be discounted as a means of expressing truth. Propositions force us to face facts and either affirm or deny them, and that kind of clarity simply does not play well in a postmodern culture.

  UNCERTAINTY IS THE NEW TRUTH

  Of course, postmodernism is considerably more complex than those few descriptive paragraphs can possibly re
late, but that is a sufficient thumbnail sketch of what the expression signifies. We will delve into some of the major characteristics of the postmodern paradigm shift throughout the book. But to get us started, let’s consider this notion that certainty about anything is inherently arrogant.

  That view is wildly popular today. The belief that no one can really know anything for certain is emerging as virtually the one dogma postmodernists will tolerate. Uncertainty is the new truth. Doubt and skepticism have been canonized as a form of humility. Right and wrong have been redefined in terms of subjective feelings and personal perspectives.

  Those views are infiltrating the church too. In some circles within the visible church, cynicism is now virtually regarded as the most splendid of all virtues. I began this book with a prime example of that cynicism, as seen in the so-called Emerging Church movement. Arelentless tone of postmodern angst about too much certainty pervades that whole movement. No wonder: the Emerging Church began as a self-conscious effort to make Christianity more suitable to a postmodern culture. Emerging Christians are determined to adapt the Christian faith, the structure of the church, the language of faith, and even the gospel message itself to the ideas and rhetoric of postmodernism.

  Postmodernity is a major theme in the literature of the Emerging Church movement. Several leading voices in the movement have suggested that postmodernism is something the church should embrace and adopt. Others might be more tentative about endorsing postmodernism entirely, but they insist that Christians at least need to start speaking the postmodern dialect if we want to reach a postmodern generation. That, they say, will require a retooling of the message we bring to the world, not to mention a revamping of the means by which we deliver it. Some in the movement have openly questioned whether there is even any legitimate role for preaching in a postmodern culture. “Dialogue” is the preferred method of communication. Accordingly, some Emerging-style congregations have done away with pastors altogether and replaced them with “narrators.” Others have replaced the sermon with a free-ranging dialogue in which no one takes any leading role. For obvious reasons, an authoritative “thus saith the Lord” is not welcome in such a setting.

  UNCERTAINTY IS THE NEW

  TRUTH. DOUBT AND

  SKEPTICISM HAVE BEEN

  CANONIZED AS A FORM

  OF HUMILITY.

  RIGHT AND WRONG HAVE

  BEEN REDEFINED IN TERMS OF

  SUBJECTIVE FEELINGS AND

  PERSONAL PERSPECTIVES.

  Of course, the first casualty of that way of thinking is every kind of certainty. The central propositions and bedrock convictions of biblical Christianity—such as firm belief in the inspiration and authority of Scripture, a sound understanding of the true gospel, full assurance of salvation, settled confidence in the lordship of Christ, and the narrow exclusivity of Christ as the only way of salvation—do not reconcile well with postmodernism’s contempt for clear, authoritative truth claims. The medium of postmodern dialogue thereby instantly and automatically changes the message. And the rhetoric of the Emerging Church movement itself reflects that.

  Listen, for example, to how Brian McLaren sums up his views on orthodoxy, certainty, and the question of whether the truths of Christianity are sound and reliable in the first place:

  How ironic that I am writing about orthodoxy, which implies to many a final capturing of the truth about God, which is the glory of God. Sit down here next to me in this little restaurant and ask me if Christianity (my version of it, yours, the Pope’s, whoever’s) is orthodox, meaning true, and here’s my honest answer: a little, but not yet. Assuming by Christianity you mean the Christian understanding of the world and God, Christian opinions on soul, text, and culture . . . I’d have to say that we probably have a couple of things right, but a lot of things wrong.1

  McLaren suggests that clarity itself is of dubious value. He clearly prefers ambiguity and equivocation, and his books are therefore full of deliberate doublespeak. In his introduction to A Generous Orthodoxy, he admits, “I have gone out of my way to be provocative, mischievous, and unclear, reflecting my belief that clarity is sometimes overrated, and that shock, obscurity, playfulness, and intrigue (carefully articulated) often stimulate more thought than clarity.”2 A common theme that runs throughout most of McLaren’s writings is the idea that “there is great danger in the quest to be right.”3

  Postmodern influences have come into the evangelical movement through other avenues as well. Beyond Foundationalism: Shaping Theology in a Postmodern Context, by Stanley Grenz and John Franke, was published in 2001 and has made a significant impact in the evangelical academic community, garnering lots of positive reviews and stimulating numerous papers and lectures from evangelical leaders who evidently find much to agree with in the book.

  But as the subtitle suggests, the book pleads for a whole new approach to theology, with the goal of “contextualizing” Christianity for a postmodern culture. “The categories and paradigms of the modern world” are in collapse, the authors note in the book’s opening sentence.4 They go on to assert that Christian theology therefore needs to be rethought, revised, and adapted in order to keep in step and remain relevant in these changing times.

  Grenz and Franke argue that the Spirit of God speaks through Scripture, tradition, and culture, and theologians must seek to hear the voice of the Spirit in each one. Moreover, since culture is constantly in flux, they say, it is right and fitting for Christian theology to be in a perpetual state of transition and ferment too. No issue should ever be regarded as finally settled.

  The obvious casualty of all this is any sure and certain knowledge of biblical truth. That is okay with Grenz and Franke. They are convinced that every desire to gain a fixed and positive knowledge of any truth actually belongs to the collapsing categories of enlightenment rationalism. That is precisely what they mean by the reference to “foundationalism” in the book’s title. They define Classical foundationalism as a “quest for complete epistemological certitude.”5

  Certitude naturally comes under repeated attack in the book. This culminates in the incredible claim that certainty is ultimately incompatible with hope.6 Of course, there are some things we don’t yet see clearly and still hope for (Romans 8:24–25). But it seems rather far-fetched to conclude that there is nothing we can know with a true and settled certainty.

  Some readers have nevertheless found the Grenz-Franke argument persuasive, including John Armstrong. Armstrong is a writer, conference speaker, and former pastor who at one time was a defender of Reformation theology and a student of revival. The name of his ministry, Reformation and Revival, reflected that.

  But after reading Beyond Foundationalism, Armstrong wrote a series of articles in his ministry newsletter declaring that he has changed his mind about several vital points of doctrine—including faith and understanding, the sacraments, the doctrine of revelation, and Christology—among other things. Crediting Grenz and Franke for helping him see the light, Armstrong writes, “I have been forced, upon deeper reflection about theological method, to give up what I call epistemological certitude.”7 He goes on to explain: “Reformed dogmaticians and teachers on the conservative side seek a steady, unshakable and certain knowledge. . . . John Franke suggests that the agenda employed by such theologians ‘glorifies reason and deifies science.’ I have changed my mind about the way to do theology, and I confess I now agree with Franke’s conclusion.”8

  Armstrong reveals how far he has moved from his starting point with this statement: “If there is a foundation in Christian theology, and I believe that there must be, then it is not found in the Church, Scripture, tradition or culture.” Scripture is not the foundation for Christian doctrine? Then what is? Armstrong’s answer echoes the central thesis of Beyond Foundationalism: “If we must speak of ‘foundations’ for Christian faith and its theological enterprise, then we must speak only of the triune God as disclosed in polyphonic fashion through Scripture, the church, and even the world.”9


  Armstrong tries awkwardly to give lip service to the authority of Scripture by suggesting (in language Karl Barth might have applauded) that our doctrine must “always [be] in accordance with the normative witness to divine self-disclosure contained in Scripture.”10 Cutting through the jargon and reading that statement in its best light, Armstrong seems to be acknowledging (for a moment, at least) that God’s self-revelation in Scripture ought to be the ultimate yardstick for measuring all our thoughts, beliefs, and teachings about God. But even that morsel is instantly snatched away with the other hand and quickly replaced with a wholly subjective, irrational, postmodern antihermeneutic: “Theology must be a humble human attempt to ‘hear him’—never about rational approaches to texts.”11

  Armstrong identifies the illusion of many under the sway of this error by boasting that his radical turnaround is the epitome of “humility” and “the very essence of servant-leadership.”12 (In accordance with his shifting views, Armstrong has changed the name of his ministry from Reformation and Revival to Act 3—stressing his goal of being “missional” in the third millennium.)

  Meanwhile, Armstrong employs caricature and exaggeration to attack the views he himself once held. He claims he has “routinely” heard “prominent Christians say: ‘I have never changed my mind—never.’”13 He cites Wayne Grudem’s Systematic Theology as an example of the “‘concordance’ view of theology. You gather all the verses on a given subject, sort them all out, put them in their proper place in your system, and then develop (or write) a theology, formal or otherwise. This theology is then transferred as if the system itself contains, or is, the truth of God.”14

  Armstrong, Grenz, Franke, and the Emerging postmodernists have blurred the line between certainty and omniscience. They seem to presume that if we cannot know everything perfectly, we really cannot know anything with any degree of certainty. That is an appealing argument to the postmodern mind, but it is entirely at odds with what Scripture teaches: “We have the mind of Christ” (1 Corinthians 2:16).