I am no expert on the late Anabaptist theologian John Howard Yoder, but, like many others, I have benefited from his work, particularly his seminal work, The Politics of Jesus. And, like many others, I came to know Yoder’s work through the work of Stanley Hauerwas.  It was through reading Hauerwas’ autobiography, Hannah’s Child, that I came to learn of Yoder’s earlier sexual misconduct.  It was a disheartening revelation, for, around that same time, I learned of the sexual misconduct of Karl Barth as well as the troubled private life of New Testament scholar George Eldon Ladd (through John D’Elia’s fascinating book, A Place at the Table: George Eldon Ladd and the Rehabilitation of Evangelical Scholarship).  It was a weird time.  It seemed to me that numerous stalwart voices within the theological academy had, in fact, fairly sordid private lives.

Now, I knew this, of course, but I knew it theoretically.  Had you asked me then if the greatest of theologians were deeply flawed and sinful, I would have responded, “But of course they are!”  But it is one thing to know it and another thing to know it.

The Yoder accusations were/are deeply troubling.  I will not chronicle them here.  A simple Google search will tell you way more than you want to know (the essential articles are here).  To summarize, though, Yoder sexually harassed a number of women under the guise of developing a theology (as he saw it) of extra-marital sexual conduct that stopped short of sexual intercourse, and, in his mind, short of sin.  It seems that Yoder actually believed the kind of stuff he was saying to the women who were his victims. As I understand it, Yoder never actually had sexual intercourse with any woman other than his wife, but he, in essence, was propositioning women in theological language that would, inevitably, have led to such. (Again, my opinion.) Furthermore, he apparently did force himself upon the wife of a man who invited him to lecture while the husband was away, but, when she resisted, he stopped.  Nobody has accused Yoder of rape, though what he did was clearly a violation.  What he did and proposed was abusive, harassing, and adulterous.  It was sinful.  It was wrong.  I haven’t the slightest desire or inclination to minimize Yoder’s actions.  It matters not to me how he justified his actions with theological window dressing.  They were pernicious actions.

Before his death in 1997, Yoder underwent a discipline process among the Mennonites.  However – again, as I understand it – the victims of his harassment never saw the kind of public acknowledgment of his misdeeds that they warranted.  His books continue/d to be published and his name remains a bright star in the theological world.  I am evidence of this fact, by the way.  I first read Yoder somewhere around the year 2000.  I was completely unaware of these accusations until two or three years ago.

Apparently, Herald Press, the Anabaptist publisher of many of Yoder’s works, now feels that it needs to acknowledge Yoder’s sins.  According to this story in Christianity Today, Herald Press will now include the following notice on all of Yoder’s books that they publish:

John Howard Yoder (1927–1997) was perhaps the most well-known Mennonite theologian in the twentieth century. While his work on Christian ethics helped define Anabaptism to an audience far outside the Mennonite Church, he is also remembered for his long-term sexual harassment and abuse of women.

At Herald Press we recognize the complex tensions involved in presenting work by someone who called Christians to reconciliation and yet used his position of power to abuse others. We believe that Yoder and those who write about his work deserve to be heard; we also believe readers should know that Yoder engaged in abusive behavior.

This book is published with the hope that those studying Yoder’s writings will not dismiss the complexity of these issues and will instead wrestle with, evaluate, and learn from Yoder’s work in the full context of his personal, scholarly, and churchly legacy.

The purpose of this post is to express my own struggle with this move.  It is a genuine struggle:  just when I think I’ve reached a conclusion I see the other side.

On the one hand, it seems reasonable to me that the victims of Yoder’s abuse should not have had to suffer the indignity of what likely appeared to them to be a kind of corporate cover-up.  That is, the publishers continued to make money off of Yoder, he continued to teach at Notre Dame, and, as others have pointed out, he continued to lecture widely to much acclaim.  In this sense, it seems to me a good thing that those who financially benefited off of the mythological mystique of Yoder should have to acknowledge that the man off of whom they benefited was living in radical violation of his own programme of pacifism and peace.

On the other hand, this is happening twenty-two years too late, after Yoder’s death.  Furthermore, it seems an odd thing to publish the sins of an author on all of his books (from that press).  It seems to me that if Yoder’s sins invalidate his works, they should be pulled.  If they do not invalidate his works, they should stand.  The victims need/ed justice and the reading public (like myself) needs not to be naive.

Furthermore, I do wonder about the precedence this sets.  Should the works of Barth proclaim his adultery?  Should the works of Paul Tillich proclaim his adultery?  Should the works of Francis Schaeffer proclaim his problems with anger and temper?  Should the works of George Eldon Ladd mention his deep insecurities, his ego, and his misdeeds?

All of that being said, what makes this case unique is that Yoder was arguing for pacifism, peace, and justice, for the protection of the weak against the powerful and for a radical living out of the Sermon on the Mount.  Perhaps it is the incongruity between Yoder’s sexual misdeeds and the core of his entire message that makes the disconnect worthy of publication, worthy of a literary scarlet letter.  Who knows?

As I think about the whole sordid affair it occurs to me that there was one author who once published his own disclaimer about his own hypocrisy and failures.  In 1 Timothy 1:15, Paul announced that Christ Jesus had come into the world to save sinners, “of whom I am the foremost.”  Yoder should have acknowledged this himself.  We all should.

It’s a tough question, this publishing of sins, and one with which I’ll likely continue to wrestle.  Regardless, there is a cautionary tale here about our words and our lives, and one we had best heed well.

This coming Spring, I’ll be teaching a Ouachita Baptist University extension course on “Interpreting the Bible” at Central Baptist Church. You may take the class for credit or audit it.  The details are below.

We were iced in today in Sherwood, AR.  It was a great day for laziness and relaxation.  So this morning, indulging in said laziness, while scrolling through the U-Verse On Demand documentary offerings, I noticed “The Institute.”

Curious, I checked it out. It was, in a word, enthralling.

Essentially, here is what happened:  in 2008 a California-based artist named Jeff Hull developed an elaborate game in San Francisco.  In reality, he created a false world centered around the Jejune Institute and its conflict with the Elsewhere Public Works Agency.  It’s kind of hard to explain the story, though it dealt with the Jejune Institute’s very New Agey efforts at helping people develop in their understanding of themselves and of reality and of human potential.  Furthermore, there was a backstory concerning the disappearance of a girl named Eva and clues surrounding her perceptions and discoveries of deep truths regarding these themes.  I realize that does not make much sense.  Not much about this whole thing makes sense.  The game was carried on for about three years in the San Francisco area and had lots of twists and turns.

Participants walked into the game after answering advertisements posted in the SF area.  You must understand that those answering these advertisements were unaware what they were stepping into or that the Jejune Institute (where they first went to begin their journey through the game) was a farce or that this was a game at all.  Jeff Hull did a brilliant job of bathing the fliers and notices regarding the Jejune Institute in language and images and verbiage that will be immediately familiar to anybody who has ever looked closely at cults (particularly California-based cults in the 60’s and 70’s) and New Age movements.

Over the three year period of the game, thousands of people got caught up in it.  Most dropped out before reaching the end (the game itself was divided up into chapters), but the level of commitment evidenced by those who took part is telling.  They followed the signs and clues that Hull and his team cleverly placed throughout the city, analyzing the evidence they discovered about the disappearance of Eva and the mysterious Jejune Institute.  The game was basically an urban scavenger hunt.  How many people thought this was a game is hard to say.  Clearly many people thought this was reality and that they were caught up in a true story.  I suspect most people were conflicted about what was actually happening.

Some crossed the line.  One man in the documentary, interviewed with his visage obscured by darkness, refused to believe this was a game and lashed out at those who realized it was.  He read deep meanings into the arcane clues Hull offered and internalized the story in a troubling way.  Hull claims he was stunned at this phenomenon.  Finally, Hull brought the game to a conclusion with a truly weird day-long self-actualization event with the major characters of the game (sans Eva) revealing that they had reached a fragile peace.  At no point did anybody ever say, “None of this is real.  This has all been an elaborate game, a hoax.”  The participants who stayed all the way through to the end seemed to feel a kind of anticlimactic disappointment, with some saying they slipped into a depression when it ended.

This documentary should be watched and watched carefully.  What struck me must deeply were a few things:

• The brilliance of Jeff Hull and his team.  Truly, it is amazing to see the world that this guy created and the lengths to which he went to create a believable if strange narrative that many people found compelling and intriguing.

• The deep desire within people for transcendence.  This documentary clearly demonstrates how strongly people feel that there must be more than the reality we see before our eyes.  Though many people likely suspected this was a game or something like it, it seems to me that what drove them forward was a suspension of belief and a sincere hope that such an eclectic tale might possibly be true.

• The human longing for community and solidarity.  It was fascinating to see people come together around Hull’s concocted world and imagined story.  In particular, it was interesting to see how many young people allowed themselves to be absorbed into this carnival and spectacle.

• The ease with which human beings can be led to take up a cause or a movement that they do not even understand.  At one point, Hull even had 250 people protest in the streets of SF concerning they knew not what!  One of the troubling things about this whole experiment, to this observer anyway, is how it demonstrates the gullibility of people.  More than that, it demonstrates how people will put faith and trust in a movement that they do not understand.  I kept thinking, while watching this documentary, about how easy it is for cults to get started and get a following.

I’m not sure what Jeff Hull wanted to prove or demonstrate, but the quasi-religious/cultic element of this experiment, and the eagerness with which people gave themselves to this “cause” strikes me as telling and illuminating.

It’s a weird journey, but “The Institute” is an intriguing documentary that is well worth consideration.

What is “Liturgical Gangstas Redux”?

In 2009, Michael Spencer asked some of us across denominational lines to come together as “The Liturgical Gangstas.”  The intent was for Michael to throw a question to Christians of different traditions to see how we would approach the questions and, ostensibly, to help ourselves and the readers to think through spiritual issues more deeply.  We did this over the following year.  I bowed out after Michael’s passing, though I think the Liturgical Gangstas continue on over at the Internet Monk site.  Anyway, in looking through the older content at Internet Monk, I thought I might post my answers to those questions over here, in case they are of use to anybody. (I don’t feel comfortable lifting the entire Gangsta posts from the site, but, in time, I’ll move the questions and my responses here.)

“If we cannot join our Catholic brothers and sisters in simply trusting the teaching authority of the Roman Catholic church, then what is the answer to the “authority” question for non-Catholic Christians?”

The question of authority is indeed a bit difficult for those without an official Magisterium (though many observers of the modern SBC would point out that we now seem to have a kind of magisterium!). In short, Luther’s declaration at Worms about his “heart being captive to the Word of God” resonates deeply with Baptists, even if Lutherans would no doubt point out that Luther would be quite suspect of much Baptist handling of the word! Furthermore, I fully acknowledge that every believer of every communion will, at heart, assert with equal strength that God’s word is ultimately their authority as well. The question then becomes one of mediation. How do we hear and find and understand this authoritative word to which we are accountable?

The Baptist finds it in his experience with the word, as it is opened through the Holy Spirit’s unction via the means of careful exegesis and sound hermeneutics. He finds it particularly as it is fleshed out in the local church. We see the Bible as the encapsulation, in written form, of that early authority to which, Acts tell us, the early church devoted herself: “the Apostle’s teaching.”

I understand the dilemma in arguing that the word of God is our authority. Have Baptists not simply abandoned one pope for sixteen million popes (as the official but absurdly inflated numbers of the SBC would suggest)? Has not the idea of the lone soul standing with his Bible before his God given rise to a pandora’s box of chaotic, idiosyncratic interpretations and splintering? Has not the cry of ecclesia semper reformanda simply become a first principle by which we validate whatever tangent we happen to want to go on at the moment?

I don’t deny the practical realities of these problems, I simply deny that claiming the word of God as your authority must necessarily be this way. To be sure, in a Baptist climate of disappearing ecclesiology, the deceptive cry of “no creed but the Bible” (not originally a Baptist cry anyway) has morphed into “no creed but me.”  But it need not be this way.

In truth, a more full-orbed Baptist understanding of authority can be found in the congregational renewal that is currently taking place among the many Baptists who are seeking to reclaim the cherished principle of regenerate church membership.  This does not position authority in the church, but it does give a healthier oversight of our handling of the word in the context of a local, covenanted, accountable, and disciplined congregation. A concurrent retrieval of the once-strong system of accountability among these local congregations would likewise strike a blow at the church-shopper mentality that says, “Ok, if my quirks aren’t welcome here, then I’ll just find someplace where they are.”

Alongside this ecclesiastical parameter that surrounds and guides the individual and his Bible, I firmly believe that many of those calling for a greater appreciation of historic, consensual exegesis as a tempering guide for reading the Bible are hitting on something key. You can find this in many of the Baptist catholicity guys (Timothy George, D.H. Williams, Steve Harmon, et al.), but perhaps it has been best articulated in Tom Oden’s paleo-orthodoxy programme.

Thus, I would argue that the Christian’s source of authority is the enscripturated Word of God as it is read, understood, and lived in the context of an accountable, covenanted local congregation, and as it is guided and tempered by a renewed appreciation for the voice of the Church throughout time (a voice which does not eclipse the word, but which certainly ought to be respected and heeded in the reading of the word.)

Fifty years ago today, C.S. Lewis died.  Twenty-four years ago, I first read C.S. Lewis.  I have been driven to reflect on the latter fact by the former fact, and I thought I might share a few thoughts regarding what C.S. Lewis has meant to me.

At the age of fifteen, my father put a copy of Mere Christianity in my hands.  I do not know if I could overstate what that book did for me and for my Christian journey.  It rocked my world.  It absolutely revolutionized how I viewed the Christian life and, in particular, my own walk with Jesus.

Looking back on it, I suspect the major contribution it made to my own mind was to introduce the idea of an intellectually viable faith.  It is hard to describe what Lewis’ initial appeal to the reality of a universal, objective, moral law did to my understanding of the faith.  It showed me that faith was not reason-less, not a blind grasping for what we could not know.  Throughout that book, Lewis showed the staggering explanatory power of Christianity, and, for the first time, I realized that the faith had ideational content that could be asserted as intellectually compelling in light of the realities of the world.  It was, for me, the beginning of the end of the fundamentalist anti-intellectualism I had witnessed in some quarters of the church of my youth.

Secondly, it shattered the last vestiges of sectarian hubris within me.  Here I was, reading an Anglican (who smoked and drank, no less!) and learning the faith in a way I had never learned it.  It showed me that the faith transcended the little denominational boundaries I knew, and that the Church was a worldwide entity with lots of intriguing characters from whom I might draw help and guidance.

Its description of “mere Christianity” overwhelmed me with its simple brilliance.  In short, I loved the idea of it.  I did not come to see ecclesial distinctives as unimportant as a result of this approach.  Rather, I think I first began to grasp what Al Mohler would later call “theological triage”:  the difference between primary, secondary, and tertiary truths.

Furthermore, Lewis introduced me to G.K. Chesterton, about whom another post will have to speak.  He also introduced me to George MacDonald.  Furthermore, my interest in Tolkien is at least in some sense connected to his connection with Lewis and his role in Lewis’ conversion…though, there again, it was my father who first encouraged me to read J.R.R. Tolkien.  So Lewis impacted me not only through what he wrote, but also through the writings of those to whom he introduced me.

After reading Mere Christianity, I began consuming everything Lewis had written…even the big volume of letters to Arthur Greeves.  Looking back, I can see how irritating I became in it.  I became obsessed with Lewis, a member of the cult of Lewis, if you will.  I think my mimicking of Lewis’ way of speaking and my constant quoting of his words must have been very irksome to deal with.  In due time, I outgrew such fixations, but the impact of Lewis has remained on my life to this day.

Oddly enough, I eventually reacted to my obsession with Lewis by setting him aside.  I actually have not read him in years…though I have memorized more of Lewis’ words than I have of any other writer.  Even so, the specter of Lewis (if you will allow the image) always seems to be around, and I rarely go very long without thinking about how he approached the faith or how he would have approached this or that question.

I will be forever grateful to Lewis for as long as I live, and to God for creating such a mind. Again, it’s been a while since I’ve actually read Lewis…a problem that I will have to remedy soon.

For some time, I have been fascinated by the historical figure of Jacobus Arminius. Anybody who has attempted to keep up with the issue of Calvinism will be familiar with the term. “Arminianism” is usually pitted against “Calvinism” as an antithetical system, no matter how accurate or inaccurate that pitting might be.

There was a time when I read relatively deeply on these issues. Along the way, I have been consistently intrigued by the character and theology of Arminius. Reading Carl Bangs’ magisterial biography only heightened my interest in the man.  In short, I remain amazed at the phenomenon of a man’s name being used so frequently by so many who have never read any of his works or anything about him.  To be sure, Arminius’ writings are often difficult, but they are always available.

Arminius himself was a complex, fascinating thinker who, I dare say, does not match the caricatures of him that one often hears. My point is not to say that Arminius was right or wrong. Personally, I feel that he was right in some areas and wrong in others…which is to say that he was human.

Regardless, he is a figure who needs to be more widely known and understood, especially by people who continue to evoke his name. To that end, I think those interested in the issues surrounding Calvinism and Arminianism will benefit from this helpful series of lectures, delivered earlier this year by the authors of a new Arminius biography: Keith Stanglin (who I interviewed here) and Thomas McCall.

On Saturday, November 9, I offered the following presentation to the Deacon body of Central Baptist Church in Martin, TN.  I’m grateful to Pastor Kylan Mann for the invitation.  Kylan and I worked together for a few months when I first came to Central Baptist Church in North Little Rock in January of 2011, where he was serving, at that time, as the Minister of Youth.  He is doing a great job in Martin, TN, and his transition into the pastorate has been a very smooth and effective one.  I was honored to be able to spend some time with these deacons, not least of all because it challenged me to think again about this important ministry and the godly men who undertake it.

The recent “Strange Fire” conference at John MacArthur’s church advocated the cessationist position, that is, the position that the gifts of healing, prophecy, and tongues ceased with the apostolic age and are therefore not present in the church today.  This conference, as you can imagine, stirred up quite a bit of controversy, especially among those who adhere to the continuationist position, the position that these gifts do indeed continue to this day.

My own position is that while I am suspicious of much that goes on under the charismatic and pentecostal banners, and while I think we are right to outright reject the clearly unbiblical excesses of some branches of these movements, scripture does not contain the explicit biblical evidence for cessationism that I would need to see to hold to that position.  As such, I am cautious but open to the continuance of these gifts should they draw attention to Christ and not violate any of the clear teaching of God’s Word.

I saw yesterday that James White’s Alpha and Omega Ministries (this is not an endorsement of James White, by the way, though he has done some good work in some important areas) hosted a debate between Dr. Michael Brown and Dr. Sam Waldron on the question, “Have the New Testament Charismatic Gifts Ceased?”  I was able to listen to this debate today and found it helpful insofar as it presents two well-thought-out representative cases for these positions.

I am currently preaching through our church’s “Four Canons” and devoted my November newsletter to them.  I thought I would provide it here as a bit of a summary of our view of what a church is and should be.

The Four Canons: A Vision and a Goal

On Monday of this week, Dr. R. Albert Mohler, President of Southern Seminary in Louisville, KY, delivered the following speech at Brigham Young University.  I was first intrigued by his comments to the Mormons about their theology, but I ended up most moved by the actual content of his speech regarding marriage, family, and the new sexual revolution.

In short, I think this may be the clearest and most helpful articulation of where we are in the modern age on these vital issues that I have ever read.  I am copying the message in its entirety with permission. 

A Clear and Present Danger: Religious Liberty, Marriage, and the Family in the Late Modern Age — An Address at Brigham Young University

An address delivered at Brigham Young University by Dr. R. Albert Mohler, Jr., President of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary on Monday, October 21, 2013.

I deeply appreciate your invitation to speak at Brigham Young University and to address the faculty at this greatly respected center of learning. I am so glad to be on this campus, filled with so many gracious people, such admirable students, and so many committed scholars on the faculty.  To many people, shaped in their worldview by the modern age and its constant mandate to accommodate, it will seem very odd that a Baptist theologian and seminary president would be invited to speak at the central institution of intellectual life among the Latter-Day Saints.

But here I am, and I am thankful for the invitation. The wonderfully prophetic Catholic novelist Flannery O’Connor rightly warned that we must “push back against the age as hard as it is pressing you.” I have come to Brigham Young University because I intend with you to push back against the modernist notion that only the accommodated can converse. There are those who sincerely believe that meaningful and respectful conversation can take place only among those who believe the least—that only those who believe the least and thus may disagree the least can engage one another in the kind of conversation that matters. I reject that notion, and I reject it forcefully. To paraphrase Dorothy Parker, that is the kind of idea that must not be cast aside lightly, but thrown with full force.

I come as a Christian theologian to speak explicitly and respectfully as a Christian—a Christian who defines Christianity only within the historic creeds and confessions of the Christian church and who comes as one committed to the Gospel of Jesus Christ and to the ancient and eternal Trinitarian faith of the Christian church. I have not come as less, and you know whom you have invited. I come knowing who you are—to an institution that stands as the most powerful intellectual center of the Latter-Day Saints, the most visible academic institution of Mormonism. You know who I am and what I believe. I know who you are and what you believe. It has been my great privilege to know friendship and share conversation with leaders of the LDS church, such as Elder Tom Perry, Elder Quentin Cook, and Elder Todd Christofferson. I am thankful for the collegiality extended by President Cecil Samuelson at this great university. We do not enjoy such friendship and constructive conversation in spite of our theological differences, but in light of them. This does not eliminate the possibility of conversation. To the contrary, this kind of convictional difference at the deepest level makes for the most important kind of conversation. This is why I am so thankful for your gracious invitation.

Our conversation comes in the context of a particularly interesting historical moment. We are living in times rightly, if awkwardly, described as the Late Modern Age. Just a decade or so ago, we spoke of the Postmodern Age, as if modernity had given way to something new. Like every new and self-declared epoch, the Postmodern Age was declared to be a form of liberation. Whereas the Modern Age announced itself as a secular liberation from a Christian authority that operated on claims of revelation, the Postmodern Age was proposed as a liberation from the great secular authorities of reason and rationality. The Postmodern Age, it was claimed, would liberate humanity by operating with an official incredulity toward all metanarratives. And yet, postmodern thought eventuated, as all intellectual movements must, in its own metanarrative. And then it passed away. We still speak of postmodern thinking, even as we speak rightly of postmodern architecture and postmodern art, but we are speaking, for the most part, of a movement that has given way and given up. In retrospect, the Postmodern Age was not a new age at all, only the alarm that announced the Late Modern Age. Modernity has not disappeared. It has only grown stronger, if also more complex.

The claim that humanity can only come into its own and overcome various invidious forms of discrimination by secular liberation is not new, but it is now mainstream. It is now so common to the cultures of Western societies that it need not be announced, and often is not noticed. Those born into the cultures of late modernity simply breathe these assumptions as they breathe the atmosphere, and their worldviews are radically realigned, even if their language retains elements of the old worldview.

Recent research demonstrates this clearly. The Pew Research Center has released a torrent of research underlining these trends. We are now told that one in five Americans is essentially secular—thoroughly secularized, with no religious affiliation at all. Even more revealing is the fact that one in three younger Americans under age 30 is so identified. If anything, anecdotal evidence and any sophisticated analysis of their worldviews indicate that these figures may be an underestimation. More recently, the researchers at Pew have revealed that American Judaism is being radically secularized, traced by evidence of skyrocketing intermarriage rates and very low estimates of religious belief. No belief system is immune or impervious to modernity.

There is plenty of evidence that the same phenomenon is at work among Roman Catholic young people. Among evangelical Christians, a frightening percentage of youth and “emerging adults” hold to what sociologist Christian Smith and his associates have called “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism,” a religion that bears no substantive resemblance to biblical Christianity.

The background to this great intellectual shift is the secularization of Western societies. Modernity has brought many cultural goods, but it has also, as predicted, brought a radical change in the way citizens of Western societies think, feel, relate, and reason. The Enlightenment’s liberation of reason at the expense of revelation was followed by a radical anti-supernaturalism that can scarcely be exaggerated. Looking at Europe and Great Britain, it is clear that the Modern Age has alienated an entire civilization from its Christian roots, along with Christian moral and intellectual commitments. This did not happen all at once, of course, though in nations such as France and Germany the change came very quickly. Scandinavian nations now register almost imperceptible levels of Christian belief. Increasingly, the same is true of both the Netherlands and Great Britain. Sociologists now speak openly of the death of Christian Britain—and the evidence of Christian decline is abundant.

Peter Berger, one of the founding fathers of the modern theory of secularization, has suggested that secularization should be better understood as pluralization: the presence of plural worldviews in proximity offering an array of intellectual and theological options. But the result is nearly the same. The world might be, as he says, “furiously religious,” but the modern world is not controlled by any coherent supernatural worldview.

Actually, Berger argues that secularization, in exactly the shape and form predicted by the prophets of secularization theory, did operate exactly according to plan in two social locations, western Europe and the American college and university campus.

In his important Massey Lectures delivered in 1991, Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor spoke of The Malaise of Modernity. The Modern Age, he argued, is marked by two great intellectual moves. The first intellectual move is a pervasive individualism. The second is the reduction of all public discourse to the authority of instrumental reason. The rise of modern individualism came at the cost of rejecting all other moral authorities. “Modern freedom was won by our breaking loose from older moral horizons,” Taylor explains. This required the toppling of all hierarchical authorities and their established moral orders. “People used to see themselves as part of a larger order,” he observed. “Modern freedom came about through the discrediting of such orders.”

The primacy of instrumental reason means the elimination of the old order and its specifically theological and teleological moral order. As Taylor explains:

No doubt sweeping away the old orders has immensely widened the scope of instrumental reason. Once society no longer has a sacred structure, once social arrangements and modes of action are no longer grounded in the order of things or the will of God, they are in a sense up for grabs. They can be redesigned with their consequences for the happiness or well-being of individuals as our goal.

More recently, Taylor has written the greatest work yet completed on the secular reality of our times. In A Secular Age, he describes three successive sets of intellectual conditions. In the first, associated with the Premodern Age of antiquity and the medieval synthesis, it was impossible not to believe. There was simply no intellectual alternative to theism in the West. There was no alternative set of explanations for the world and its operations, or for moral order. All that changed with the arrival of modernity. In the Modern Age it became possible not to believe. A secular alternative to Christian theism emerged as a real choice. As a matter of fact, choice now ruled the intellectual field. As Peter Berger famously observed decades ago, this is the “heretical imperative,” the imperative to choose. The third set of intellectual conditions is identified with late modernity and our own intellectual epoch. For most people living in the context of self-conscious late modernity, it is now impossible to believe.

This is  a stunning intellectual and moral revolution. It defies exaggeration. We must recognize that it is far more pervasive than we might want to believe, for this intellectual revolution has changed the worldviews of even those who believe themselves to be opposed to it. If nothing else, many religious believers in modern societies now operate as theological and ideological consumers, constantly shopping for new intellectual clothing, even as they believe themselves to be traditional believers. Everything is now reduced to choice, and choice is, as Taylor reminds us, central to the moral project of late modernity, the project of individual authenticity.

As he explains this project: “There is a certain way of being human that is my way. I am called upon to live my life in this way, and not in imitation of anyone else’s. But this gives a new importance to being true to myself. If I am not, I miss the point of my life, I miss what being human is for me.”

The pressing question is this: can any sustainable moral order survive this scale of intellectual revolution? We hear in the today’s intellectual and ideological chorus the refrains of Karl Marx’s threat and promise as stated in The Communist Manifesto: “All that is solid melts into air.” The melting is everywhere around us.

The clearest demonstration of this monumental shift in morality and worldview is the revolution now underway with regard to marriage, the family, and human sexuality. Long ago, historians Will and Ariel Durant noted that sex is “a river of fire that must be banked and cooled by a hundred restraints.” The primary restraint has always been the institution of marriage itself, an institution that is inescapably heterosexual and based in the monogamous union of a man and a woman as husband and wife. In our times, the fires of sex and sexuality are increasingly unbanked and uncooled.

Similarly, Pitirim Sorokin, the founder of sociology at Harvard University, pointed to the regulation of sexuality as the essential first mark of civilization. According to Sorokin, civilization is possible only when marriage is normative and sexual conduct is censured outside of the marital relationship. Furthermore, Sorokin traced the rise and fall of civilizations and concluded that the weakening of marriage was a first sign of civilizational collapse.

We should note carefully that Sorokin made these arguments long before anything like homosexual marriage had been openly discussed, much less legislated. Sorokin’s insight was the realization that civilization requires men to take responsibility for their offspring. This was possible, he was convinced, only when marriage was held to be the unconditional expectation for sexual activity and procreation. Once individuals—especially males—are freed for sexual behavior outside of marriage, civilizational collapse becomes an inevitability. The weakening of marriage—even on heterosexual terms—has already brought a harvest of disaster to mothers and children abandoned in the name of sexual liberation.

We must note with honesty and candor that this moral revolution and the disestablishment of marriage did not begin with the demand of same-sex couples to marry. The subversion of marriage began within the context of the great intellectual shift of modernity. Marriage was redefined in terms of personal fulfillment rather than covenant obligation. Duty disappeared in the fog of demands for authenticity and the romanticized ideal of personal fulfillment. Marriage became merely a choice and then a personal expression. Companionate marriage was secularized and redefined solely in terms of erotic and romantic appeal—for so long as these might last.

In an important new book, Has Marriage for Love Failed?, French intellectual Pascal Bruckner ponders the secularly imponderable: has the romantic revolution of secular modernity led to human happiness? He thinks not.

He does clearly understand what modernity hath wrought: “Since the Enlightenment, marriage reforms have focused on three points: giving priority to feelings over obligation, doing away with the requirement of virginity, and making it easy for badly matched spouses to separate.”

Bruckner is right—devastatingly right. Note carefully that all three of these points require the secularization of the moral order and the marital contract. Feelings now rule, defined and projected at will. Virginity is, as Bruckner notes, an embarrassment for most moderns. Cohabitation is now the order of the day for young moderns, and for an astonishingly large percentage of their parents and grandparents. The young are indoctrinated into the morality of expressive sexuality and erotic fulfillment, with children hardly able to read force-fed the curriculum of “safe sex” and erotic experimentation. And, sadly, the divorce revolution has not only made marriage a tentative, if not temporary, condition, it has redefined marriage as nothing more than a public celebration of an essentially and non-negotiably individual act of self-expression.

As Barbara Defoe Whitehead has observed, expressive marriage was followed almost instantly by expressive divorce. Divorce, like marriage, now becomes an expected act of self-expression for moderns, complete with greeting cards, celebrations, and public announcements of new erotic and romantic availability.

Has this made moderns happier? This is where Pascal Bruckner is particularly helpful and insightful. Modern romantic love, he argues, simply cannot sustain marriage. He describes this reality as a “terrible absurdity.” Marriage has “become more difficult to endure since of all its roles it has retained only that of being a model of fulfillment. Because it wants to succeed at any cost, it is consumed with anxiety, fears the law of entropy, the aridity of slack periods.”

Add to this the realization that no one can now grow old and mellow. Ardor must continue and erotic fulfillment must rule, even into later decades of life and marriage. A revealing article appeared in the health pages of USA Today, announcing that Viagra is now a prominent factor in divorce among the middle-aged and older. As reporter Karen S. Peterson explained: “Nobody claims Viagra causes affairs or divorce. But increasingly, it is a factor in both, says Dominic Barbara, who heads a Manhattan law firm with 15 attorneys. In about one of every 15 or 20 new divorce cases, somebody mentions Viagra, he says.”

Heterosexuals did a very good job of undermining marriage before same-sex couples arrived with their demands. The marriage crisis is a moral crisis and it did not start with same-sex marriage, nor will it end there. The logic of same-sex marriage will not end with same-sex marriage. Once marriage can mean anything other than a heterosexual union, it can and must mean everything. It is just a matter of time.

Of course, one of the issues we must confront is the fact that marriage is a pre-political institution, recognized and solemnized throughout history by virtually every human culture and civilization. But we are living in an age in which everything is political and nothing is honored as pre-political. In the recent words of Justice Antonin Scalia, we are all now waiting for the other shoe (or shoes) to drop.

This has all been made possible by a breakdown in the immune system of human society—and this breakdown was no accident. Immunologists will explain that one of the wonders of human life is the fact that each of us receives from our mother an amazing array of defenses within our immune system. Throughout time, we develop further immunities to disease, or we grow sick and vulnerable. A severely compromised immune system leads to chronic disease, constant vulnerability, and potential death. If this is true for an individual, it is also true of a society or civilization.

We have forfeited our immunity against the breakdown of marriage, the family, and integrity of human sexuality. We can point to others who have been the prophets and agents of this self-injury to society, but we must recognize that we have all contributed to it, in so far as we have embraced essentially modern understandings of love, romance, liberty, personal autonomy, obligation, and authority. Furthermore, the separation of the conjugal union and openness to the gift of children has further undermined both our conscience and our credibility in the defense of marriage. We separated sex from marriage and marriage from reproduction. We sowed the seeds of the current confusion. At the very least, we did not address this confusion with sufficient moral clarity and credibility.

Marriage is the most basic unit of civilization. In fact, it is the basic molecular structure of human society. The redefinition of marriage will bring great human unhappiness. As Pascal Bruckner reminds us, this is true of heterosexual divorce. It promised happiness but has produced misery and brokenness. It declared itself to be liberation, but it imprisons all moderns in its penitentiary of idealized and unattainable romance and sexual fulfillment.

The family, as properly pre-political as marriage, is now the great laboratory for human social experimentation. Children are routinely sacrificed to the romantic whims and sexual demands of their parents, who may or may not be married, may or may not stay married, and may or may not include both a father and a mother at any point.

The epidemic of fatherlessness is well documented and no longer even denied, but there is no social consensus to address a phenomenon that has wrought incalculable human costs, both individually and socially.

A basic principle of Christian theology was once written into the moral immune system of Western civilization—what God commands and institutes is what leads to genuine human flourishing. Our civilization now lives in open revolt against that affirmation.

The moral revolution we are now witnessing on the issue of homosexuality is without precedent in human history in terms of its scale and velocity. We are not looking at a span of centuries, or even the length of one century. This revolution is taking place within a single human generation.

I would argue that no moral revolution on this scale has ever been experienced by a society that remained intact, even as no moral revolution of this velocity has yet been experienced. We can now see more clearly where this revolution began. It is virtually impossible to see where it ends.

But, for the first time in the experience of most Americans, the moral revolution revolving around marriage, the family, and human sexuality is now clearly becoming a religious liberty issue. The rights of parents to raise their children according to their most basic and fundamental theological and moral convictions are now at stake. Courts have ruled in some jurisdictions that parents cannot even “opt out” their children from sex education driven by moral revisionism. Legislatures in California and New Jersey have made it illegal for mental health professionals to tell minors that there is anything wrong with homosexual sexuality, orientation, or relationships. Parents are put on notice. How long will it be before the moral authority of the secular state is employed to allow children to “divorce” their parents? How long before the logic of sexual revolution and sexual self-expression leads to parents being told what they must allow and facilitate with their own children when it comes to sex, gender, and sexual orientation? The logic of moral change by legal coercion is already fully on display in many modern legal debates. How long will a respect for parental rights and religious liberty hold back the flooding river of this moral revolution?

Religious liberty is already severely compromised by modern political regimes that claim to be democratic and respectful of human rights. Given the shape of current arguments for sexual expression and liberty, religious institutions, especially schools, colleges, universities, welfare agencies, and benevolent ministries, are already under fire and under warning. Some have already been forced to make a decision: forfeit your convictions or forfeit your work. Some have chosen one, some the other. One way leads to an honorable extinction, the other to a dishonorable surrender. Both are violations of religious liberty.

The conflict of liberties we are now experiencing is unprecedented and ominous. Forced to choose between erotic liberty and religious liberty, many Americans would clearly sacrifice freedom of religion. How long will it be until many becomes most?

This is what brings me to Brigham Young University today. I am not here because I believe we are going to heaven together. I do not believe that. I believe that salvation comes only to those who believe and trust only in Christ and in his substitutionary atonement for salvation. I believe in justification by faith alone, in Christ alone. I love and respect you as friends, and as friends we would speak only what we believe to be true, especially on matters of eternal significance. We inhabit separate and irreconcilable theological worlds, made clear with respect to the doctrine of the Trinity. And yet here I am, and gladly so. We will speak to one another of what we most sincerely believe to be true, precisely because we love and respect one another.

I do not believe that we are going to heaven together, but I do believe we may go to jail together. I do not mean to exaggerate, but we are living in the shadow of a great moral revolution that we commonly believe will have grave and devastating human consequences. Your faith has held high the importance of marriage and family. Your theology requires such an affirmation, and it is lovingly lived out by millions of Mormon families. That is why I and my evangelical brothers and sisters are so glad to have Mormon neighbors. We stand together for the natural family, for natural marriage, for the integrity of sexuality within marriage alone, and for the hope of human flourishing.

The great Christian theologian Augustine, writing in the final years of the Roman Empire, reminded Christians that we live simultaneously as citizens of two cities: a heavenly city and an earthly city. The one is eternal, the other is passing. But the earthly city is also a city of God’s good pleasure and divine compassion. As a Christian, I am instructed by the Bible to work for the good and flourishing of this earthly city, even as I work to see as many as possible also become citizens of the heavenly city through faith in Christ Jesus.

In this city, I am honored to come among those who, though of a different faith, share common concerns and urgencies. I come as a Christian, and I come as one who is honored by your kind and gracious invitation. I come in the hope of much further conversations, conversations about urgencies both temporal and eternal. I am unashamed to stand with you in the defense of marriage and family and a vision of human sexual integrity. I am urgently ready to speak and act in your defense against threats to your religious liberty, even as you have shown equal readiness to speak and act in defense of mine. We share love for the family, love for marriage, love for the gift of children, love of liberty, and love of human society. We do so out of love and respect for each other.

That is why only those with the deepest beliefs, and even the deepest differences, can help each other against encroaching threats to religious liberty, marriage, and the family. I guess I am back to Flannery O’Connor again. We must push back against this age as hard as it is pressing against us. We had better press hard, for this age is pressing ever harder against us.