4 CULTURAL TRENDS LEADING TO THE DECLINE OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY

Great article from Trevin Wax on how the cultural trends are leading to less religious liberty.
Religious liberty, America’s “first freedom,” has fallen on hard times lately.

A few years ago, a survey showed that nearly 40 percent of Americans believed the First Amendment’s protections “go too far.” That number has decreased in later surveys (thankfully), but it’s still a troubling sign. Meanwhile, we are seeing more and more legal battles against religious people whose convictions are not in line with the ideology of the Sexual Revolution.

What’s going on?

What are the cultural trends leading to diminished religious liberty?

Trend #1: Religion is personal and private, not public. 

More and more Americans see religion as something personal and private, a belief that you hold for therapeutic purposes. It’s about feelings that are true for you, not facts that concern the whole world.

The American people have not always had this view of religion. When he was running for president in 1960, John F. Kennedy had to make a speech to assure people that his Catholicism would not negatively affect his governance. Interestingly, he had to make that speech because (1) Americans believed religion mattered for public life and (2) he needed to convince them that, in his case, his private beliefs would be innocuous. In other words, he had to make the case that religion is personal and private, precisely because so many Americans saw religion as something public.

The idea that religion is a private affair has existed for a long time, but it has become “the default position” on religion in recent years—to the point that religious people have to make a case for why religion should matter in the public square or in the realm of politics.

Over time, this trend leads to less patience with people who believe that religion affects all of their decisions. The more devout you are in public, the more strange you seem in a society where religion is pushed to periphery of private prayer or self-fulfillment.

Trend #2: Freedom of religion is narrowed to freedom of worship.

In recent years, it’s been interesting to see how “freedom and worship” and “freedom of religion” are used simultaneously, as if they are the same thing. The First Amendment guarantees the “free exercise of religion” not the “freedom to worship as you please.” Or, to make the point clearer, we should say freedom of worship comes under the broader umbrella of freedom of religion.

Many Americans believe that as long as churches are free to teach and preach what they want, we have freedom of religion in this country. But this diminishment of freedom to a “worship service” is very different from the freedom to live out one’s religious convictions in everyday life. It walls off religion and consigns it to rituals and values that are personal and private (see Trend #1).

But Christianity is not just about one’s private beliefs; it’s about a way of life. It’s one thing to say “Jesus is Lord of my heart” and another thing to say, “Jesus is Lord of all.” Christians affirm both of those truths.

In ancient Rome, the Caesar wouldn’t have cared about a messianic Jewish sect if the early Christians had merely been saying, “Jesus is my personal Savior.” No, Caesar was threatened because people were “turning the world upside down” by proclaiming another king, Jesus (Acts 17). Likewise, Nebuchadnezzar wouldn’t have cared if the three Jewish exiles had worshiped their own God in private. He was furious because they would not bow down to his statue.

Trend #3: Fewer people claim to be religious today.

The Pew Research data shows the rise of the Nones—the percentage of people who check “none” when asked about their religious affiliation. Many nominal Christians in the past are now unaffiliated with any religion.

Generally speaking, it’s harder for nonreligious people to understand the depths of religious conviction and motivation. For example, it’s usually easier for a Christian, rather than a secularist, to understand the plight of a Jewish person who will not work on the Sabbath, or a Muslim prisoner who will not shave his beard. Religious people understand these conundrums, even if they don’t share the same convictions. Why? Because in the case of Islam and Judaism, we’re dealing with a comprehensive worldview that affects all of life—private and public. We may not share the same worldview, but we understand that worldviews matter.

Non-religious people may have a more difficult time understanding the depth of these convictions and the sensibility of religious conscience. It’s interesting to see secular journalists write about religious people as if they can “prod them along” to change deeply held beliefs about marriage, or the exclusivity of their religious truth claims, and so on.

Trend #4: The Sexual Revolution has its own vision of sin and salvation. 

Finally, the Sexual Revolution is the place where so many religious liberty disputes have risen. The debates go beyond sex. They cover the basic worldview questions: “What is a human being?” “What is the purpose of sex?” “What is the end goal of humanity?” “What is the meaning of our bodies as male and female?”

The Sexual Revolutionaries offer different answers to those questions than do most religious people. For many today, traditional notions of sexual sin are not problematic, but the very notion of sin in sexuality is the sin from which we need deliverance. Repression is bad; liberation is good.

But Christianity has a different set of views and norms when it comes to channeling sexual expression in ways that maximize human flourishing. The Sexual Revolution’s ideology must resist Christianity in order for all (or at least most) sexual behavior to be treated as “normal,” and equally true and good.

Conclusion

Christians in North America will face many challenges in the future. Religious liberty debates are likely to increase as these trends accelerate. Let’s not be shocked when people don’t understand where we’re coming from.

Instead, let’s take time to back up and put these debates in context, always giving faithful witness to the gospel that never changes.

In Praise of Fat Pastors

By Jared Wilson.

Sort of.

One of the greatest men my wife and I had the privilege of being shepherded by used to wear his pants very high on his waist. His belt was practically underlining his chest. He looked like a dork, and it was distracting when he stood before the congregation. So one of the creative guys at the church “took one for the team” and took him aside one day to recommend he wear his shirts untucked. He did, and the sight was much better. But what I loved about this pastor is that he had zero idea this was an issue. I mean, I’m sure he thought he looked fine — he wasn’t unkempt, just uncool — but obviously worrying about his image wasn’t even on his radar.

By contrast, I used to see another area pastor at the local coffee shop in the same town who was pushing sixty and was rockin’ — or thought he was — the embroidered jeans, Affliction tees, leather cuffs, and frosted bedhead. Professing to be cool, he became a fool.

In the age of Pastor Fashion and sermons forbidding the eating of pork in service of the gospel of weight loss — I mean, does anything scream “Judaizer” more loudly than preaching the dietary law? except maybe actually preaching circumcision — don’t the pastors who don’t care about their image, their profile, their reputation seem moredignified?

Now, of course this is not to say we should be careless about our bodies and our general health. I have nothing against Joel Osteen (pictured) looking good on the surface; I just have a problem with him preaching there. He is perhaps the West’s most successful purveyor of the paltry. I mean, no matter how much abundance he promises, his gospel is actually the puniest one out there. The love of the superficial will kill the soul, stealing our spiritual oxygen like Ed Young’s spanx. Man looks at the outward appearance, of course, and that’s who these guys fear, that’s whose ears these guys are trying to tickle, that’s who they’re seeking to please. When Paul warns in Philippians 3:19 against those whose god is their belly, it’s just as applicable a warning today about the Crossfit junkie as it is the chocoholic.

The pursuit of the appearance of having it all together is not new. We might have the most advanced whitewash, but you can’t really improve a tomb.

I don’t think you even need me to list all the evidences that American evangelicalism is obsessed with image, with cool, with seeming impressive. What we need are men (and women) who will lead the way in rejecting the Photoshopping of our faith. And wouldn’t it be a huge relief, wouldn’t we all just kinda exhale in relief if we were led in this way to stop sucking in our guts? Our stomach might increase, but wouldn’t we actually decrease in the right ways? Wouldn’t that kind of freedom to breathe — the freedom to simply be ourselves — be a fruit of the gospel?

So no, I am not advocating gluttony here, just a Christward self-disregard, a godly un-self-consciousness. I am praying for an increase in the tribe of self-forgetful pastors — if not all-out dorky ones — with platforms thrust upon them genuinely “aw shucks”-wise, men who will love not their images even unto death. Men who at least are not obsessed with the camera catching their good sides. Give me a fat guy in the pulpit so long as he preaches not himself and not the law but the glorious gospel. And if you’ve got a pastor with washboard abs who does that– well, that’s okay too, I guess.

…He had no form or majesty that we should look at him,
and no beauty that we should desire him.
– Isaiah 53:2

Has 'Authenticity' Trumped Holiness?

This needs to be read by everyone in their twenties!

In recent years, evangelical Christianity has made its imperfection a point of emphasis. Books were published with titles like Messy Spirituality: God's Annoying Love for Imperfect People, Death by Church and Jesus Wants to Save Christians, and churches popped up with names like Scum of the Earth and Salvage Yard. Evangelicals made films like Lord, Save Us from Your Followers, wrote blog posts with titles like "Dirty, Rotten, Messy Christians," and maintained websites like anchoredmess.com, modernreject.com,churchmarketingsucks.com, recoveringevangelical.com, and wrecked.org—a site that includes categories like "A Hot Mess," "Muddling Through," "My Broken Heart," and "My Wreckage."

Meanwhile, self-deprecating humor sites like Stuff Christians Like and Stuff Christian Culture Likes became hugely popular repositories of Christianity's many warts, and writers like Anne Lamott and Donald Miller became best-selling, "non-religious" expositors of messy spirituality.

Evangelicalism—both on the individual and institutional level—is trying hard to purge itself of a polished veneer that smacked of hypocrisy. But by focusing on brokenness as proof of our "realness" and "authenticity," have evangelicals turned "being screwed up" into a badge of honor, its own sort of works righteousness? Has authenticity become a higher calling than, say, holiness?

How Did We Get Here?

Erik Thoennes, professor of biblical and theological studies at Biola University, sees the authenticity trend in the undergrads he teaches. At the beginning of each class he asks his students to write down two things they love and two things they hate. Consistently, one of the things they say they hate is "fake people." But the Christian life involves a whole lot of "fakin' it" on the path to being integrated, Thoennes says.

"There's this idea that to live out of conformity with how I feel is hypocrisy; but that's a wrong definition of hypocrisy," Thoennes said. "To live out of conformity to what I believeis hypocrisy. To live in conformity with what I believe, in spite of what I feel, isn't hypocrisy; it's integrity."

Thoennes hopes his students understand that sanctification involves living in a way that often conflicts with what feels authentic. Still, he gets why younger evangelicals have such a radar for phoniness. They grew up in an evangelical culture that produced more than a few noteworthy cases of fallen leaders and high-profile hypocrisy. Their cynicism reflects a church culture that often hid its imperfections beneath a facade of legalism and self-righteousness.

All of this contributed, in the early and mid-2000s, to an authenticity boom in evangelicalism. Recognition of the biblical calls to confession (James 5:17) and "walking in the light" (1 John 1:5-10) had not gone away in Protestantism; they just became more and more couched in language of being real, raw, transparent, and authentic in community.

Typical of the many articles written about the topic is Josh Riebeck's 2007 piece forRelevant, "Fighting for Authenticity," which announced that "authentic community, authentic faith, and authentic Jesus are the cry of the new generation."

"We don't want to be fooled anymore. We don't want to be gullible anymore," Riebeck wrote. "We want flawed. We want imperfect. We want real."

But why must "real" be synonymous with flawed and imperfect? When someone opens up about their junk, we think, "you're being real," and we can relate to them. But what about the pastor who has served faithfully for decades without any scandal, loved his wife and family, and embodied the fruit of the spirit? Is this less real?

When 'Authentic' Is Actually Inauthentic

Often, what passes for authenticity in evangelical Christianity is actually a safe, faux-openness that establishes an environment where vulnerability is embraced, only up to a point.

Becky Trejo, a 20-something photographer from Los Angeles who attends Mars Hill Church's Orange County location alongside her husband, Neph, has observed this trend in some small groups she's attended.

"There's this 'sweet spot' of authenticity," Trejo said. "Like if you reveal that you struggle with gossip, people are like 'whoopdee!' But then there are some sins you might share where it's like 'whoa, that's too much.' There has to be this middle ground, like 'I'm struggling with wanting to sleep with my boyfriend.' That's the sweet spot where people see you as really vulnerable and authentic, and it's required admission."

In this dynamic we often reward those who are most vocal about their authentic struggles in the "sweet spot," without giving equal weight to the "too small" sins or creating a space that is safe enough for the most embarrassing sins or darkest struggles.

This dynamic reflects another problem: our skewed understanding of sin. It's almost as if our sins have become a currency of solidarity—something we pat each other on the back about as fellow authentic, broken people. But sin should always be grieved rather than celebrated, Thoennes argues.

"Brokenness is an interesting word because if it's sin, we should call it that," Thoennes said. "I only feel sorry for broken people. God's mad at sinful people. Woundedness and brokenness are aspects of our sinful condition, but they tend not to emphasize the 'I'm giving God the finger' part of it."

We've become too comfortable with our sin, to the point that it's how we identify ourselves and relate to others. But shouldn't we find connection over Christ, rather than over our depravity?

Authenticity Means Growth 

Our notion of authenticity should not primarily be about affirming each other in our struggles—patting each other on the back as we share about porn struggles while enjoying a second round of beers at the local pub Bible study. Rather, authenticity comes when we collectively push each other, by grace, in the direction of Christ-likeness.

Reflecting on Christianity's "current obsession with brokenness" for her.meneutics, Megan Hill wrote, "If we are constantly looking for someone else who is broken in all the same places, we overlook the comfort we can have in the perfect God-man."

Hill wisely notes, "Grace covers. And it covers again and again. Thanks be to God." But if we stop there, "We are only telling half of the story. . . . Receiving grace for my failures also includes Christ's help to turn from sin and embrace new obedience."

Could it be that the most authentic thing any of us can do is faithfully pursue holiness and obediently follow after Christ?

In Scripture, Paul teaches again and again that Christians are "dead to sin" and risen to new life, no longer slave to sins but to righteousness (Rom. 6). That doesn't mean the battle with sin is gone. But as Paul describes the struggle in Romans 7, he says "it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me" (Rom. 7:17), noticeably separating his identity from this unwanted alien thing still residing within. The struggle is neither the point nor the marker of one's identity. In Christ we are new creations (2 Cor. 5:17), called to flourish through life in the Spirit (Rom. 8).

"I think goodness is more real in that we are actually living more as humans were intended to," Thoennes said. "Jesus is the realest human we'll ever see. He's authentic. He understands our brokenness. But he's as real as can be."

No Authenticity Points

Sin is necessarily part of our story as redeemed people. We shouldn't ignore or make light of it. But we also shouldn't wallow in it or take it lightly, for the sake of earning authenticity points.

As someone who became a Christian in his 20s, after having experienced the rocky ups and downs of a life without Christ, Luis Salazar of Whittier, California, finds it sad that so many young evangelicals seem to think dramatic struggles with sin are more real.

"I would never want to walk through it again," Salazar said. "I wish I hadn't gone through all that. A lifestyle of flashy sin isn't necessary to experience grace. It's not necessary to have a grand testimony of brokenness in order to be an authentic Christian."

To overcome our "authenticity" confusion, evangelicals must see themselves differently. Rather than focusing on our brokenness, we should look to Christ and those who model Christ-likeness. We should move in that direction, by grace and through the power of the Holy Spirit.

We should also, perhaps, stop speaking of ourselves in such "we are scum" terms. In Christ, we can be more than scum. And that's a message the world sorely needs.

"While we think self-deprecation causes us to be more relatable and empathetic to non-Christians, it's ultimately communicating a sense of disappointment, disillusionment, and discontentment," Stephen Mattson wrote for Red Letter Christians. "It thrives on negativity and kills our sense of hope."

"The reality is that there are many things wrong with Christianity," Mattson said, "but instead of focusing on the bad, let's attempt to reclaim the hope that Jesus represents—redeeming our world by personifying the sacrifice, service, grace, hope, joy, and love of Christ."

Brett McCracken is a film critic for Christianity Today and is the author of the recently released Gray Matters: Navigating the Space Between Legalism and Liberty, as well asHipster Christianity: When Church and Cool Collide. You can follow him on Twitter.