Reclaiming the Vocabulary of Morality

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In the previous post it became clear that contemporary progressive culture does not use moral words to convey clear ideas about an objective moral order. It uses them instead to convey feelings of approval or disapproval. One of my first goals, then, is to free moral words from their servitude to emotion and restore them to their proper rational function.

The Good

I’d like to begin by reflecting on the concepts of the good and the right, two of the most basic categories necessary for conducting reasonable discussions on moral questions.

I find it interesting that even though the word “good” is very general, it is indispensable for discussions of morality. The meaning of the word can range from weak expressions of pleasure to assertions of superlative excellence. It can be used to express personal preference or to pronounce moral judgment. It can be misused as synonym for the “right” or it can mean the “pleasant.” Given the wide range of meanings for the word good, it would seem important to be clear and specific in our use of the term in discussions about morality.

Examination of the ways the word good is used shows that in every case, except in reference to God or its misuse to mean the right, it is used in a relative sense in which something is declared to be “good for” something else. Apart from God, who is absolutely good, any finite good can be “good for” one thing but bad for something else. Salt is good for preserving meat but bad for snails.

A thing can be “good for” someone in two senses. It can give pleasure or promote well-being. Likewise, it can be bad for someone in two senses. It can cause unpleasant feelings or reduce well-being. To say that something is good in the first sense (pleasure) is to express the connection between it and a feeling of pleasure. Examples are abundant: that was a good meal, a good show, or a good experience.

An experience can give momentary pleasure but not be “good for” one in the sense of promoting well-being. We all know, for example, that overeating is not good for you. And an experience can be “good for” your well-being but not be especially pleasant. We can readily offer examples: “Eat your vegetables because they are ‘good for’ you.” “Moderate exercise is ‘good for’ you.” and “Honesty is the best policy.” Such assertions declare that possessing these goods, regardless of whether or not they give immediate pleasure, advances your well-being. We can distinguish these two meanings of the word good by naming one “the pleasant” and the other “the useful.”

Let’s draw a preliminary conclusion. To engage in fruitful moral discussions it is important not to confuse the two meanings of “good,” pleasant and useful. If one party uses the word good to mean the immediately pleasant and the other party uses it to mean that which is productive of long-term or ultimate well-being, the discussion will be futile. We can hardly dispute a claim that someone finds something pleasant or unpleasant. The claim is the proof! Hence, this type of assertion about goodness is not subject to rational debate. But a claim that something is productive of long-term or ultimate well-being is subject to discussion and dispute.

What is the difference? The assertion that X is a means to long-term or ultimate well-being is a claim about what our physical, psychological, moral, or spiritual natures require for proper and optimum functioning. This can be true only if within these dimensions of human existence there are objective structures and inherent ends, subject to rational analysis. Additionally, these structures and ends must remain constant regardless of our subjective feelings.

Analysis of the concept of the good has led us to the concept of human nature, its proper functioning, and its ultimate end. Is there such a thing as human nature, and, if so, how can we discover what is “good for” it? Do human beings have a natural (and perhaps a supernatural) end, and do we know what it is? These questions lead us to our most basic beliefs about God and creation.

Natures and Ends

In the previous section we concluded that we call a thing “good” when we want to express the relation of being “good for” between it and something else. To say a particular hammer is good is to say that it is good for doing what hammers are meant to do, drive nails and demolish things. In analogy, to say a particular human being is “good” is to say that this human being is capable of doing and actually does what human beings are meant to do. In the same way, a particular human action is good if it does for human beings what human actions are meant to do for human beings.

Notice that hammers, human beings, and human acts can be called “good” only if we know what they are meant to be and do. The idea that human beings are meant to be and do certain things and not others implies that they possess natures and ends. Put as simply as I can, a nature is the design plan or structure of a thing that makes it the kind of thing it is. Inherent in the idea of a design plan is proper function and purpose. Just as a hammer’s design plan makes it suitable for driving nails but not for threading needles, human nature directs human beings to certain ends, not to others. And certain acts enable human nature to function properly to achieve its intended end and others do not.

The idea of the good is relevant to moral issues only if human beings possess natures that determine the conditions under which they can function properly to achieve the end at which their nature aims. Apart from the idea of human nature and its end, the “good” will always be reduced to the “pleasant.” And the pleasant is not a moral category. Whether you find a certain activity pleasant or not cannot demonstrate whether it is good for you. As we will see in the course of this series, at the center of our contemporary moral crisis is loss of faith that human beings possess natures and ends. Human nature and its ends have been replaced by the arbitrary human will.

Philosophers from Aristotle onward attempted to describe the essential features of human nature and the ends toward which it is naturally directed. Aristotle’s work on this subject in Nicomachean Ethics (350 B.C.) exercised profound influence on Western ethical thought, and it still commands respect today. Although such philosophical ethics as Aristotle developed can play a role, Christian ethics adds three faith presuppositions to Aristotle’s naturalistic perspective: (1) God is the Creator of human nature; (2) Jesus Christ is the perfect example of a good human being; and (3) union with God is the end of human nature.

For Christian moral thought, the idea that human beings possess natures and an ends is securely grounded in the confession that God is the maker of heaven and earth. God created human beings in his “image” and “likeness” (Genesis 1:26, 27). Throughout the Bible, God deals with human beings as if they were designed to function properly by doing certain things and not others. Certain individuals are set forth as examples of “good” human beings. Jesus Christ serves as the supreme example of a perfect human life. Certain commands direct us to engage in activities that show us the best of which human beings are capable, chiefly the commands to love God above all else and our neighbors as ourselves. The resurrection of Jesus Christ and our union with him in baptism ground our hope of eternal life and union with God in the general resurrection.

In sum, the Christian understanding of the good is determined by the following convictions: (1) the most important characteristic of human nature is that it is the image and likeness of God; (2) human nature’s proper function is to image the perfect character of God in the world as informed by the example of Jesus Christ; and (3) human nature is directed by its Creator toward the end of eternal life and union with God. Nothing can be considered good for us that contradicts or inhibits these three principles.

These three foundational principles provide us with lenses with which to read the Bible along with the church to fill out in greater detail the character of a good human being, that is, a picture of what the Creator intended human beings to do and become.

The Contemporary Moral Crisis (Part 2)*

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This series deals with the creeping moral crisis that is engulfing modern Western culture and the challenge progressive culture’s moral nihilism poses to the Christian vision of human life. In my experience, contemporary discussions of morality consist of incoherent assertions of prejudice and outbursts of emotional anguish, mixed with rude protests and not so veiled threats of violence. Hence my approach will be to search for what went wrong and to clarify the alternatives that reveal themselves in that search. I think we will discover that the loss of Christian doctrines of God, creation, sin, and salvation preceded and facilitated the loss of a coherent moral vision. And only by regaining a deep understanding and belief in these Christian teachings can we successfully weather the storm about to break on the gates of the church.

Is Christianity Good?

Christianity has its critics and always has. From the beginning it faced opposition from religious and political authorities, from cultural arbiters and grassroots society. Paul noted that many of his fellow Jews considered the message of the cross unworthy of God and the Greeks dismissed it as foolish (1 Cor 1:18-25). The Romans disparaged Christians as “atheists” and “enemies of the human race.” And the cultured elite of the Empire considered it superstitious. Depending on the spirit of the times, the Christian faith has been attacked as rationally incoherent, historically false, politically subversive, and morally bankrupt.

Christians have been characterized as backward, snobbish, clannish, cultish, and self-righteous. If I may be allowed a broad judgment, it seems to me that in the first three centuries of the church the major criticisms of Christianity were moral in nature. Christianity was attacked as a corrupting influence on society that produced political subversion, social conflict, and moral decline. And many of the early Christian apologists dealt with these charges in their writings.

At least since the Enlightenment, the dominant challenges to Christianity have been intellectual. Philosophers challenged the possibility and need for revealed religion. They focused their critique on biblical miracles, dismissing them as myths, legends, or lies. Historians challenged the authenticity and historical accuracy of the New Testament writings. After Darwin, many critics challenged the truth of divine creation and even denied the existence of God, urging that the theory of evolution removes the need for a supernatural explanation for life. Understandably, most modern defenders of Christianity dealt primarily with these intellectual challenges. Answering the question “Is Christianity true?” has been the dominant concern of modern Christian apologetics.

It seems to me that since the middle of the 20th century the apologetic situation of Christianity in the Western world and particularly in the United States has changed dramatically. The most urgent question has shifted from “Is Christianity true” to “Is Christianity good?” Could we be returning to the situation that characterized the first three centuries of the church in which Christianity’s opponents ignored the question of truth and challenged Christianity’s goodness? Even in the modern era, there has been an undercurrent of moral criticism of Christianity. Deism denied the need for a divinely revealed morality, and the Romantic Movement developed an individualistic and subjective definition of the good that justified transgressing moral conventions.

Karl Marx argued that Christianity justified suffering and oppression and robbed the majority of humanity of well-being in this life by promising rewards in the next life. Friedrich Nietzsche accused Christianity of being a slave religion, contending that its teaching about sin, compassion, humility, and the need for forgiveness kept people from achieving their natural excellence. And Freud explained moral rules as rationalizations of irrational impulses buried deep in the human psyche.

The so-called “sexual revolution” of the 1960s brought to the surface the undercurrent of Romanticism that has always been just under the surface in American culture. It rebelled against the conventional moralism of respectable society, adopting the Romantic definition of the good as individualistic and subjective. It manifested itself most visibly in the youth culture of drugs, free love, and rock ‘n’ roll. And the postmodernism of the 1980s borrowed from Marx, Nietzsche, and Freud to ground the instinctive moral rebellion manifested in the sexual revolution in a theory of deconstruction and suspicion. This theory interprets all truth claims, social structures, moral rules, esthetic norms, and religious beliefs as manifestations of the hidden desire for domination, as strategies to enable one person or group to set the rules for other persons or groups. In a climate of suspicion where every truth claim is viewed as a quest for power, how is a rational discussion of the issues confronting church and society possible?

Is Rational Discussion Possible?

“Discussion of theology is not for everyone,” warned Gregory of Nazianzus in the heat of the late 4th century controversy over the Trinity. It is for serious minded and thoughtful people. It’s “not just another subject like any other for entertaining small-talk, after the races, the theater, songs, food, and sex: for there are those who count chatter on theology and clever deployment of arguments as one of their amusements” (Oration 27, Chapter 3).

Basil the Great describes the controversy of his day (late 4th century) as like a great naval battle:

Imagine, if you will, the ships driven into confusion by the raging tempest, while thick darkness falls from the clouds and blackens the entire scene, so that signals cannot be recognized, and one can no longer distinguish friend from foe…Think of the cries of the warriors as they give vent to their passions with every kind of noise, so that not a single word from the admiral or pilot can be heard…they will not cease their efforts to defeat one another even as their ships sink into the abyss (On the Holy Spirit, Chapter 30).

In a very different setting, Matthew Arnold spoke of his age as dwelling on “a darkling plane, Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night” (Dover Beach, 1867).

As I look out on the moral crisis that has engulfed our culture, I see the trivialization of serious matters of which Gregory complained, the explosion of violent passion Basil describes, and the ignorant, nocturnal clash that so troubled Matthew Arnold. My first inclination is to stay out of it and let the enemies vent their passions on each other. Recoiling from the combatant’s sword and the referee’s flag, I prefer to carry the medic’s bag. And yet, perhaps, there is something I can do even during the heat of the battle. For not everyone is enraged all the time. Some have not yet joined the fray, others are resting on the sidelines, and still others wish to stay neutral. And some, only a few perhaps, long to understand what is happening and why and what to do in response.

In riots participants use sticks, broken bottles, and bricks as weapons. In moral controversy combatants use words. Words can convey information or express feelings. They can illuminate the mind or evoke emotion. And the emotions they instill can be positive or negative. Many contemporary discussions of moral issues consist primarily in emotional expressions of approval or disapproval in the absence of conceptual clarity and precision.

*This is part 2 in the series on “The Christian Moral Vision and the Ironies of “Progressive” Culture.” It begins the reblogging of a revised and edited series from 2014.

Introducing a New Series: The Christian Moral Vision and the Ironies of “Progressive” Culture

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The Heart of Progressive Culture

After thinking for months about social justice and critical race theory in relation to biblical Christianity, the church, and parachurch institutions, my mind has turned again to the deep moral crisis that has engulfed our culture, especially the culture of the USA. My intuition is this: The center and driving force of the ascendant culture that dominates higher education, many state and local governments, most of the media, nearly all the big cities, popular culture, and entertainment is a moral vacuum that has been eating away for centuries at the moral foundation that guided Western civilization for sixteen hundred years. Despite its utopian rhetoric to the contrary, the ascendant culture offers no alternative moral vision to replace the one it is destroying. Its central moral principle is wholly negative: we must remove all limits and destroy all oppressors and oppressive structures. Supposedly, once all oppressive structures are removed, the authentic human self—hitherto suppressed—will be free to find complete happiness in expressing itself in uninhibited external activity.

The Secret

However as I will argue in this series, a principle that defines all limits as oppressive will also destroy the self, efface the distinction between good and evil, right and wrong, wisdom and folly, reason and impulse, and being and nothing. The secret of the ascendant culture—supposedly progressive and enlightened but actually primitive and dark—is nihilism, the universal critical principle, the enemy of all being. In principle it negates God, creation, nature, moral law, community, and every other objective structure that it thinks constricts the self from becoming whatever the imagination envisions and desires. The arbitrary human will to power over itself and all being is its god. This god can create nothing, but it can destroy everything.

I’ve written on this subject in previous essays, and I want to incorporate some of those thoughts into this series. On April 04, 2014 I began an eleven part series on “Faith and the Contemporary Moral Crisis.” I see no need to rewrite those essays. So, I will begin this new series by reblogging edited versions of the essays in that series. Interspersed with and following those essays I will post new material that expands on some theoretical points and addresses our new situation seven years later.

New Developments

There have been four developments in the intervening years that I found surprising, though in hindsight I can see that they were predictable seven years ago and indeed inevitable. (1) The racialization of all social interactions. In the last few years, the liberal ideals of a colorblind society and merit-based economic advancement have been rejected by the ascendant culture as manifestations of white privilege. (2) The mainstreaming of the intersectional notion of personal identity. Since proving that one is a victim of oppression has become a ticket to recognition by progressive culture, the more oppressed groups to which one belongs the higher one’s status in this culture.

(3) The exponential growth in the popular acceptance of the complete disjunction between biological sex and gender identity. Of course, acceptance of transgenderism and gender fluidity was preceded over the last 30 years by acceptance of LGBQ identities and inevitably will be succeeded by other gender identities and those that transcend other boundaries. Again, given the moral nihilism at the heart of modern culture this development is perfectly understandable. For in principle, progressive culture finds all limits oppressive, and there are many boundaries that have not yet been recognized as limits. And for progressive culture only the oppressed have the right to identify their oppressors. No one is allowed to argue with them.

(4) Most surprising and disheartening is the rapid acceptance of the three developments mentioned above by people who claim to be Christians, especially from younger generations. In the 1960s there was a movement within academic theology called “Christian Atheism.” What I am seeing now is a popular as well as an academic movement I call “Christian Nihilism.” These people and those tempted to join them are at the center of my target audience. I hope I can help them see what they are doing. Perhaps they will reconsider their path.

Once you recognize the nihilism at the heart of progressive culture, all becomes clear. And there is no escape from the iron logic of nihilism from within progressivism. For to escape it, you would need to limit it. And that cannot happen because progressivism admits no limiting principle! There is only one way out: we must reject nihilism completely and rediscover the Creator.

Sheep and Wolves—How to Tell the Difference (DEI Series Conclusion)

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In the previous essay I promised to explore three reasons why I do not believe that the principles of diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy as advocated by the academic champions of Critical Race Theory are mandated or supported by the Christian faith. I dealt with the first reason in the previous essay, arguing that DEI philosophy is a worldly political theory designed for governance of everyone within a sovereign state. Christianity is not a worldly political theory and does not obligate Christians to support any such philosophy. Today I will address the other two reasons and bring this series to a close.

Freedom versus Coercion

(2) DEI philosophy is not compatible with Christian ethics as taught in the New Testament. I can deal with this issue briefly because I addressed it already in the essay of June 4, 2021. As I argued in that essay, though Christianity is not a worldly political philosophy and does not obligate us to support any worldly political philosophy, some political orders are more compatible with Christianity than others. Christians surely want to live in a political order where they can freely embrace and practice faith in Jesus. Likewise, if Christians embrace Jesus’s Golden Rule they should also wish others to enjoy freedom to refuse or embrace Christianity. For this reason I argued that, if given a choice between classical liberalism and DEI political philosophy, clear thinking Christians will choose classic liberalism. I concluded the June 4th essay with these words:

Traditional liberalism embraces the truth of the saying, “The perfect is the enemy of the good.” In contrast, the philosophy of DEI aims at the unattainable goal of perfection and in doing so becomes the enemy of the good. DEI is not rational because it mistakes its utopian visions for politically achievable plans. It is not psychologically sound because it assumes people will in the long run acquiesce to having their property and positions taken away and redistributed to others in the name of diversity, equity, and inclusion. It is immoral in that it employs coercion, racial prejudice, theft, and injustice to achieve its goals. Hence DEI politics is most certainly not mandated by Christianity. And in contrast to liberal political philosophy, it is not even compatible with Christianity.

Ethical Incompatibility

(3) Diversity, equity, and inclusion, as understood in critical theory, are not Christian ethical principles. Nor are they compatible with Christian ethics. First, let’s get clear that the way of life set forth in the New Testament by Jesus and his apostles applies only to Jesus’s disciples, to his Church, that is, to people who claim to be and really are Christians. Now let’s take diversity, equity, and inclusion one at a time and assess their relationship to New Testament ethics.

Diversity

DEI philosophy treats diversity as a positive value in itself. According to this viewpoint the racial, ethnic, and gender makeup of the personnel within an institution—college, business, government agency, or private club—should reflect the proportions of those identity groups within society at large. Disparities in these proportions signal racism, sexism, or some other ugly prejudice as their hidden cause.

Christianity as described in the New Testament does not view diversity as a standalone value. When the NT mentions diversity of gifts and offices within the church (1 Cor 12; Eph 4), it always sets diversity in the context of unity and harmony. And it never seeks to reflect the diversity of group identities within society at large. Diversity is not an end in itself to be sought at the expense of other qualities central to the identity of the church. If the DEI philosophy were applied to the church, it would destroy it by making something other than faith in Christ the principle of inclusion.

Equity

DEI views equity through the eyes of group identity and social conflict. It is political to the core. Members of different racial groups must be treated differently to correct the inequalities among them. The Christianity of the New Testament views human beings within a universal frame. The gospel is preached to all people. All are invited to believe and participate. Within the family of believers, there are poor, widows, orphans, aged, sick, imprisoned, and others in vulnerable positions. Christian ethics is unambiguously clear that those within the church who are able to help those in need are obligated to do so (Matt 25:14-46; 1 John 3:17; James 2:14-17). However, Christian ethics does not countenance treating people differently based on race. It views people as individuals with their own strengths and weaknesses, resources and needs. We should rush to help the sick and the poor. The well and the rich do not need our assistance. Compassion, love, generosity, and hospitality are Christian virtues. Equity is not.

Inclusion

DEI philosophy makes inclusion a central moral principle, as if excluding anyone from any group or institution is always wrong. Of course, this notion is illogical and impractical. Inclusion is meaningless unless the group into which you want to be included has an identity, and identity involves exclusion as well as inclusion. If everyone is included in everything, no one is included in anything! (For more analysis of inclusion, see the essay of May 29, 2021.) DEI uses the rhetoric of inclusion to urge inclusion of certain favored (not all!) previously excluded groups.

The Christianity of the New Testament invites and welcomes people from every tribe, tongue, and nation. But it invites them to believe the gospel, repent of their sins, be baptized, and take up the life of a disciple of Jesus. It welcomes all who do this. However, if you do not believe in Jesus, do not want to stop sinning, if you reject baptism, and want to live according to the flesh, you are self-excluded. You cannot be a Christian unless you believe and live as a Christian! Christianity does not exclude or include anyone based on race or economic status.

Conclusion to the Series

I felt compelled to write this seven-part series on the diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy not so much because it is a destructive, divisive, impractical, and irrational political philosophy—though it is that!—but because I have had to endure the little sermons of some who proclaim that DEI philosophy is plainly, even supremely Christian. It is extremely painful to listen to such displays of pious ignorance and virtue signaling. Even with the most generous interpretation I can manage, it seems they have allowed the superficial resemblances of diversity, equity, and inclusion to Christian principles and their over-charitable—not to say naïve—interpretations of these terms to blind them to their true meaning and destructive implications. But I am very clear that DEI philosophy is not a Christian way of thinking. It is rather a deeply cynical deification of the primitive forces of nature. And opening the door of the Christian fold to this wolf in sheep’s clothing is an act of treachery in which I will not participate.

Can a Worldly Political philosophy be Christian? (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, Part Six)

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In the previous post I concluded that

When people argue that the diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy is Christian, they are asking us to accept adherence to it as an essential component or a clear implication of the Christian ethics described in the New Testament. If they are correct, Christians are obligated to support DEI.

In this post and the next I will argue that diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy does not meet this standard.

A Preliminary Word to the Reader

Since I wrote the first draft of this essay, I’ve had conversations with two different parties that made it clear to me that many people who push back against my criticism of diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy have something completely different in mind than I have. I am thinking of a theory developed in elite academic settings. DEI philosophy is a recent repackaging of “critical theory” originally developed by European neo-Marxist political philosophers, mostly in Germany, in the middle decades of the twentieth century [See “Critical Theory” and “The Frankfort School” in the Cambridge Dictionary of Philosophy or look them up in Wikipedia.]. I’ve been reading in and about “Critical Theory” literature since my 1980s graduate school days. So when I hear it framed in terms of race rather than economic class I immediately recognize the basic logic as the same as the earlier form. It is obvious to me.

But it is not obvious to most people. Understandably, most people don’t read the elite academic literature of Critical Theory. When my conversation partners hear the words diversity, equity, and inclusion, they think classical liberal virtues. In the word “diversity” they hear the idea of a community where people of different backgrounds, cultures, and races are invited to bring their perspectives into the discussion about how to achieve the ideal community. When I use the word “equity” my friends think “equality,” the classical liberal ideal of treating everyone with equal respect whatever their color, economic status, or culture of origin. “Inclusion” to them means simply a welcoming attitude that excludes no one except those who exclude themselves.

You can see why some people are mystified that I would train my critical sights on diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy. To them I sound like I am anti-liberal, that I don’t believe in equality, and that I am afraid to associate with people unlike me. In actual fact, I agree with the values they mistakenly attribute to DEI philosophy, and I criticize DEI philosophy because it is not liberal!

Am I, then, fussing over words? In a sense the answer is yes. But only in a sense. In my view, if we do not mean by “diversity, equity, and inclusion” the illiberal values of Critical Theory, we ought to use different words and make clear our commitment to liberal values in clear opposition to illiberal academic Critical Theory. The reason is this: if we incorporate the words “diversity, equity, and inclusion” into our community vocabularies and in policy documents—in churches, businesses, and colleges—it will not be long before someone will read the illiberal academic and political meaning into those words and demand in legalistic fashion that we conform our practices to our stated policies. At that point it will be almost impossible to resist.

I return now to the original essay.

DEI—A Worldly Political Philosophy

Diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy is an ethical/political theory of justice designed to apply to everyone in a society in all spaces governed by law and regulation. It views justice as equal distribution of socioeconomic goods among identity groups within society. Unequal distribution of economic goods among identity groups—not economic classes as in Marxism—is proof of injustice. It rejects liberal philosophy’s theory of justice as equal application of law. It repudiates liberal society’s prioritization of individual freedom and its distribution of rewards and punishments according to merit and individual accomplishment. Instead, DEI philosophy insists that a just social system must produce equal outcomes of economic welfare for all identity groups. Mechanisms of distribution of goods must be designed to produce these just outcomes. Government at all levels must enact and enforce laws and regulations that counterbalance all forces—especially white supremacy—that tend toward injustice as defined by DEI philosophy. Because of government regulations and cultural pressure, such ostensibly private institutions as businesses, universities, service organizations, sports leagues, and even churches come under intense scrutiny and are expected to conform voluntarily even if such conformity makes no sense in terms of the educational, economic, or service goals of the institution.

Christianity is Not a Worldly Political Philosophy

Are Christians obligated to support this theory of justice and the policies, laws and regulations, and government actions that it demands? The answer is no for three reasons, only one of which I can address in this essay. (1) Christianity is not a worldly political philosophy. Worldly political philosophies propose ways in which all people living within a sovereign territory can live together within one order where “justice” reigns. In contrast, the Christianity of the New Testament proclaims only one message to a world composed of idolaters, secularists, atheists, criminals, and adherents of various religions: repent and believe the gospel. It has nothing further to say until a decision is make about this message. Jesus is not interested in forcing or enticing pagans and atheists to behave better, to share the wealth, to value diversity, to seek equity, or be more inclusive. The Christianity found in the New Testament does not use coercion to force conformity to its unique ethical vision, which involves being transformed by the Spirit of God into the image of Jesus. No one can be forced to become a Christian or live as one. The universal order envisioned by Christianity—the kingdom of God—is a realm of faith, freedom, and love. God alone can bring it about. The church’s task is to witness to that future by living in faith, freedom, and love in the present age. When well meaning human beings attempt to bring utopias into existence by their own power—even if they call them the “kingdom of God”—they end up looking more like the kingdom of the devil than the kingdom of God. Because DEI is a worldly political philosophy designed to govern all sorts of people under one secular system intended to produce worldly well being—whatever its strengths and weaknesses as a political philosophy as measured by reason—it can never become an essential component or a clear implication of the Christian ethics described in the New Testament. Hence Christians are not obligated as an implication of their faith to support the DEI political philosophy.

Is Diversity-Equity-Inclusion Philosophy Christian? (Part Five)

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Cynical Strategies and Kneejerk Answers

Is diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy Christian? Of course, not everyone is interested in this question. The answer matters only to those for whom Christianity’s endorsement or lack thereof counts as evidence for or against DEI philosophy’s ethical force. Sincere Christians are interested because they want to know that their actions and the causes they champion are at least consistent with their Christian faith. Nominal Christians and cynical politicians (right or left) often assert or deny the Christian status of DEI philosophy because they wish to persuade sincere Christians to join their causes. I am not writing to them. Seeking only to win supporters, they have neither the desire nor the patience to investigate the question seriously. I am writing to help sincere Christians to think through this issue thoroughly, critically, and Christianly and to arm them against cynical actors who wish to recruit them for their causes by convincing them that DEI is (or is not) consistent with their Christian faith.

Unfortunately, when asked the question, “Is diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy Christian?” many people answer affirmatively or negatively with a kneejerk opinion based on a vague impression formed by little more than the resonance of the words with their experiences. In ordinary communication, precision of language is not necessary. The context supplies the clarity that overcomes the ambiguity in the words. But in theological, philosophical, and ethical discussions—especially controversial ones—precision and clarity are necessary. Such discussions require patience, discipline, and thoughtfulness. So, if you are interested in the question and are willing to follow a methodical and (hopefully) thoughtful line of reasoning, please continue reading.

Clarity First

Let’s clarify the grammatical and logical form of the question before we rush to give an answer. What are we asking when we inquire, “Is X Christian?” If we turn the question into an assertion (“X is Christian”) we can see that the word “Christian” is being used as a predicate adjective, that is, as an essential or accidental property attributed to a subject X. The word “Christian” can also be used as noun, designating a person who adheres to the Christian faith, so that we can ask, “Is X a Christian?” or we can assert that “X is a Christian.” Answering either of these questions or sustaining these assertions requires that we understand the essential nature of Christianity. Clearly, then, to answer the question, “Is the DEI philosophy Christian” we must possess a clear and precise understanding both of the DEI philosophy* and of Christianity.

What, then, is Christianity? As I said in Part Four of this series, we learn the answer to this question only from the New Testament. No system of beliefs, practices, and experiences that contradicts the New Testament answer qualifies as Christianity. And if you disagree here, there is nothing further to discuss until we settle that question. According to the New Testament, Christianity is a faith, a hope, a way of living, and a people. Christianity is faith in Jesus Christ crucified and risen bodily from the dead as universal King, Lord, and Savior. The people who embrace this faith look forward to the resurrection of the dead and eternal life in the presence of God. In the present time this people, the church, lives as disciples and imitators of Jesus and through the power of the Spirit are being transformed into his image. Who then is a Christian? Only those who believe in Jesus Christ and are baptized into him. Who is living as a Christian? Only those who hold to this faith and live as followers of Jesus as instructed by the apostolic teaching of the New Testament and are being transformed into his image.

The Decisive Issue

In view of this clarification, to ask “Is X Christian?” is to ask, “Is adherence to X an essential component of Christianity or an implication of the essential nature of Christianity as described in the New Testament?” It does not ask whether X is compatible with Christianity. Many beliefs and activities are compatible with Christianity but are neither essential components nor implications thereof. Christianity is compatible with your belief or disbelief of the proposition that Subarus are better cars than Hondas or that life in other galaxies is possible. Whether you enjoy playing tennis or prefer hiking makes no difference to your faith in Jesus. These beliefs and activities are not addressed by Christianity but are left to reason, free choice, and preference. There are, however, many beliefs and activities that are incompatible with Christianity because they negate or subvert or are in other ways exclude one another.

The Judgment to be Made

When people argue that the diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy is Christian, they are asking us to accept adherence to it as an essential component or a clear implication of the Christian ethics described in the New Testament. If they are correct, Christians are obligated to support DEI. If embracing DEI is not an essential component or a clear implication of Christian ethics, Christians have no such obligation. However, if DEI philosophy negates or subverts Christianity and Christian ethics as described in the New Testament, Christians have an obligation to reject it.

I shall argue in future essays not only that sincere Christians are not obligated to accept the DEI philosophy and support its agenda but that they are obligated to reject and resist it.

*See the previous four essays for my understanding of the DEI philosophy.

Is Diversity-Equity-Inclusion Politics Christian? (Part Four)

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My goal in the first three essays in this series on diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy* was to lay a descriptive and analytical foundation for assessing the claim that these values are consistent with and even mandated by Christianity. In my role as a professor of theology in a Christian college I deal with people every day who assert that diversity, equity, and inclusion are unambiguously Christian values. They are surprised when I do not join them in their uncritical acclamation and are puzzled, if not offended, when I ask them to prove their assertions. My goal in the next few essays is to assess this contention methodically and thoroughly. This process will take a while.

The Nature Theological Assessment

I am a Christian and an academic theologian. The business of a theologian is assessing theological proposals for their Christian character. People make all sorts of claims in the name of Christianity, the Bible, the church, and the Spirit. No rational person should accept a claim simply because someone makes it. But it is the special task of Christian theologians to subject theological claims to critical judgment in light of the original documents of the Christian faith, the Old and New Testaments of the canonical scriptures. I will accept no other standard of measurement.

I am fully aware that not everyone who claims to be a Christian or a Christian theologian agrees with me about the work of a theologian or the standard by which to assess the Christian nature of a theological claim. But I am laying my cards on the table, and I think those who disagree should do so as well. Those we wish to persuade deserve to know the source of our theological opinions and the norms by which we agree to have them judged.

The Difference between Theological, Ethical, and Political Statements

We must first disentangle the many entwined and overlapping meanings of diversity, equity, and inclusion. When someone advocates or rejects DEI philosophy, we need to know whether they are speaking theologically, ethically, politically, or some combination thereof. To speak theologically is to speak about God or about the relationship of something to God. The subject of ethics is the set of moral obligations humans have to each other. Politics has to do with how human beings order their lives for the common good. These areas are sometimes combined to create the subject areas of theological ethics and theology of politics. To engage in a productive debate, we need to be clear about what mode of speech we are using and to which set of norms we are appealing. In the previous essays I highlighted the reason I believe the topics of diversity, equity, and inclusion evoke such intense controversy at the present time. In American culture the debate is primarily political in nature with theological and ethical arguments tossed into the mix in an undisciplined way.

No Political Neutrality

No one would believe me if I claimed to harbor no political opinions and that I could present a theological analysis of DEI philosophy in a politically neutral way. I admit that I am not neutral. In the literature of Social Justice and Critical Race Theory that I have read and the discussions in which I have participated, diversity, equity, and inclusion are presented as desired outcomes of a social/political process that can be achieved only by direct or indirect government action. It is an outcomes-based political program opposed to the traditional American rules-based program. DEI theorists argue that the social system governed by such classic liberal rules as fairness, equal civil rights, merit-based rewards, economic freedom, etc. has not and cannot produce diversity, equity, and inclusion. Liberalism’s inability to produce the desired outcomes is proof that it is systemically racist, sexist, and homophobic. Hence government, corporations, and universities must use their power to reward those who implement DEI and punish those who do not attain these social outcomes.

I am not neutral between these two political philosophies. I embrace the classic liberal tradition of politics—the historic tradition of both major American parties and many minor parties—as greatly superior rationally, psychologically, morally, and theologically to the anti-liberal, utopian, coercive, and divisive DEI philosophy. I understand that traditional liberalism cannot produce the perfect society. I am clear that it is by no means identical to Christianity. Nor does it rise to the heights of Christian agape. The full range of the Christian faith and life can be practiced only within the church and even there only imperfectly. Unlike the church, the political sphere embraces everyone in a society, and people within American society differ widely as to their religious beliefs and personal preferences.

Liberalism deals with this diversity by granting everyone as much freedom as is consistent with the freedom of others. And imperfect people will sometimes use their freedom in imperfect ways to produce imperfect social outcomes. In response to DEI’s charge that liberalism produces imperfect outcomes, liberal political philosophy argues not only that freedom is a social good in itself, desired by all people, but that allowing millions of individuals to make billions of free decisions–governed by the rules of fairness, equality, and merit-based reward systems–will produce a better society over the long term than allowing a small group of government planners to dictate those decisions.

“The perfect is the enemy of the good.”

Traditional liberalism embraces the truth of the saying, “The perfect is the enemy of the good.” In contrast, the philosophy of DEI aims at the unattainable goal of perfection and in doing so becomes the enemy of the good. DEI is not rational, because it mistakes its utopian visions for politically achievable plans. It is not psychologically sound, because it assumes people will in the long run acquiesce to having their property and positions taken away and redistributed to others in the name of diversity, equity, and inclusion. It is immoral in that it employs coercion, racial prejudice, theft, and injustice to achieve its goals. Hence DEI politics is most certainly not mandated by Christianity. And in contrast to liberal political philosophy, it is not even compatible with Christianity.

*The three previous essays were posted on May 26, 27, and 29.

Is the Good News Still Good?

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Explaining Our Faith or Repeating Words?

In my experience most church members have never heard a serious discussion of the atonement. In a recent Sunday class I reviewed seven of the most prominent theories of how Jesus’s suffering and death save us from sin, death, and the devil. Hardly anyone had heard of even one of them. Indeed, the very idea that the historic church had held different theories of the atonement was surprising to most. Of course every Christian is familiar with liturgical phrases that assert in some way that “Jesus died for our sins.” However if you ask them how this works they have no answer.

The closest thing to an atonement theory that appears in evangelical churches can be heard in songs, sermons, prayers, and Eucharistic liturgies. Jesus “took our place,” in him “the wrath of God was satisfied,” “he bore it all,” and many more. All of these assertions derive in some way from the Bible as filtered through traditional Protestant theology. All of them contain an element of truth, but also, as I argue in The New Adam, place greatly distorted images in our minds. And what is just as problematic, hardly anyone who sings and prays them understands them or could explain them in a way that makes sense to an outsider. How can Christians explain to the world why the gospel of Jesus Christ is good news when they do not understand it themselves? I wrote The New Adam to address this problem.

From the Introduction to The New Adam:

Soteriological Dead Ends

Two options dominate the field for making sense of sin and salvation in contemporary Protestant Christianity, the evangelical penal substitution (PSA) and the liberal moral influence theories of atonement. Each theory proposes its own analysis of the problem to which Jesus Christ is the answer. Evangelical soteriology argues that sin offends God deeply and that to be true to his perfect justice God cannot merely forgive but must punish sin as it deserves. However in his great mercy, God sent Jesus into the world to endure in our place the punishment sin deserves and earn our forgiveness. In this way, Jesus Christ embodies God’s love and satisfies his justice in his one act of dying on the cross.

In contrast to this evangelical perspective, liberal atonement theory views sin as individual imperfection, ignorance, and sensuality or as unjust social structures that foster racism, sexism, economic disparities, and other evils. God is not an angry judge but a loving Father. Jesus helps us overcome sin by teaching about the love of God and living in a way that inspires us to live the way he lived. Jesus died on a Roman cross not to divert God’s wrath away from us and onto himself but to witness to God’s justice and love. God did not kill Jesus. The Romans killed him because he would not compromise his message. The way he died demonstrates his unwavering faith in the love of God and inspires the same confidence in us.

In my view, neither evangelical PSA nor liberal moral influence theory can meet the challenge we face today, that is, how may contemporary theology help the church to restate its soteriology in a way true to the apostolic faith and comprehensible to people living now? Since the evangelical theory pervades not only evangelical theology but also evangelical sermons, song lyrics, and personal piety, I devote two full chapters to documenting, analyzing, and criticizing this viewpoint. Despite its claims of biblical faithfulness, traditional rootedness, and theological soundness, I argue that evangelical PSA falls short in all three areas.

Nor can it be made understandable to people inside or outside the contemporary church. Since liberal theology and mainline churches are the default religious options for those looking for alternatives to evangelicalism, I devote a chapter to liberal soteriology. Liberalism rightly senses that traditional soteriology makes no sense to modern people, so it attempts to translate Christianity into present-day terms. However in my view, it evacuates the substance of the apostolic faith in the process. Nor does its simplistic diagnosis of the human condition take seriously the human capacity for evil. Consequently, its solutions strike me as superficial.

My Life Project and Why I Chose It

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As regular readers know, my book The New Adam: What the Early Church Can Teach Evangelicals (and Liberals) About the Atonement was just published. In the next few posts I plan to introduce the message of this book by quoting and commenting on sections of the introduction and conclusion. These are sections not available in the Amazon.com preview. I hope these posts will motivate you to read the book and tell others about it. I don’t get invited to appear on Fox News, CNN or MSNBC. There are many thousands of books published every day. So, my book and most others find their way into the hands of readers by word of mouth recommendations. Many early readers have already done this, and I am grateful. Books like mine don’t make money…but in certain cases they change lives. I wrote this book for that individual who at this moment in their life needs this message. I pray that they find it.

Let me tell you a bit about the book. As a young adult I realized that churches within my circle had focused nearly all their thinking and teaching on small doctrinal differences at issue among Christians and taken for granted the central truths of the faith and the Christian way of life. I sensed that someday these central truths would no longer be generally accepted by the majority of a fast-evolving post-Christian culture. I came to believe that within my lifetime, believers would be forced to explain and defend the basic affirmations of their faith to a hostile audience. They were not prepared to do this then and they not prepared now. Many have and will fall away for this reason. As I was writing these lines the solemn words of Jesus recorded in Matthew 24 came to mind:

9 “Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me. 10 At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other, 11 and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people. 12 Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, 13 but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.

Though the immediate occasion for these words was the impending divine judgment on Jerusalem and the Temple, they express the perennial situation of those who seriously embrace the way of discipleship to Jesus.

So, I made it my life project to think through, defend, and explain the basic teachings of Christianity to my contemporaries and the next generations. For the past twenty years I have been writing about the major topics of Christian doctrine: God, Trinity, creation, providence, and church. I aimed to read the best, highest level thinkers on each topic and write at the highest level I could while keeping the book readable by students, ministers, and interested others. For years I’ve wanted to write on the atonement. Only after I wrote the other books and attained the age of 64 years did I think I was ready to begin this profound topic so central to Christian faith. That was six years ago. I am now 70 years old. The New Adam contains the fruit of that labor. Here is the first section of my Introduction along with a teaser from the next section:

Friends sometimes ask how long it takes to write a book. “A lifetime!” I reply without hesitation. We bring everything we have learned to each project we take up. In writing this book I have been acutely conscious of this truth. I have been listening to the Christian message of sin, salvation, and atonement my whole life. I heard it in church services and college classes. I read about it in the Bible and in books of theology. All along I thought I understood what my teachers were saying. A few years ago, however, after having taught theology for over a decade, I realized I did not understand at all. Whenever I taught about the atonement, I found myself repeating phrases taken from Scripture and describing textbook theories of atonement apart from a lively sense of their truth.

Nor was I able to help my students understand. I began to pay closer attention to the ways contemporary preachers, teachers, and popular authors explained the message of salvation. I concluded that they understood it no better than I. At that point, I determined that I had to write this book. It has been a long journey, and there were times when I thought I would never achieve the breakthrough I was seeking. But the moment came when I saw a little light, a glow that grew brighter as I moved toward it. Now when I contemplate the salvation that has come into the world through Jesus Christ I rejoice with my mind as well as my heart.

I hope this book can help others understand the Christian message of salvation in a way that resonates with their experience and strikes them as good news. I offer it as a guide for professors, students, pastors, teachers, and church leaders in their ministries. The book aims to help readers gain a sense of rapport and continuity with the community created by the original gospel events and discover new ways of presenting this good news to those outside. In working toward these ends, I desire to be faithful to Scripture, respectful of tradition, and consistent with reason. Of course, many other writers care about these matters and hold dear these values. I engage with their ideas to affirm or criticize, accept or reject. However, two theological viewpoints on salvation require extensive examination because of their outsized influence and largely negative impact on contemporary Christianity. I consider them soteriological dead ends, and we must move past them if the light is to grow brighter.

Soteriological Dead Ends

Two options dominate the field for making sense of sin and salvation in contemporary Protestant Christianity, the evangelical penal substitution and the liberal moral influence theories of atonement…[to be continued].

Woke Dictionary Entry: “Inclusion” Means “Exclusion

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As I pointed out in the earlier essays in this series, one of the most effective strategies employed by change agents is commandeering words with familiar and positive meanings and redefining them so that the same word carries a very different meaning from the one it previously carried. Like a designer virus, its external familiarity and traditional authority disguises its alien nature long enough for it to infect and reprogram the genetic code of the institution. It is the preferred method of hijackers and heretics.

Inclusion as a Feel Good Word

Today I will examine the third member of the Woke trinity. The word “inclusion,” perhaps even more than the other two members of the triad —“diversity” and “equity”— resonates positively with most people. However, set within the context of social justice theory its meaning changes radically. In this essay I will contrast two different understandings of inclusion.

Most people understand the word “inclusion” in contrast to the word “exclusion.” Inclusion resonates with other such positive words as compassionate, generous, kind, caring, accepting, and loving. Exclusion connotes harsh, arrogant, cruel, rejecting, and disparaging attitudes and behaviors. All of us remember disappointing and humiliating experiences of being excluded and rejected from a sports team, a college, a club, or a set of friends. And we have experienced the affirming feeling of being included and recognized by peers and friends. Hence in everyday language and apart from critical analysis, “inclusion” designates a good act and “exclusion” points to a bad one. But critical analysis tells a different story.

Inclusion as Exclusion in Disguise

Don’t They Teach Logic Anymore?

In my experience inclusion is used in social justice talk as if it were an absolute value, an axiomatic foundation to which every subsequent idea must conform. Policy changes become morally imperative as soon as it becomes clear that they facilitate greater inclusion. Acts of exclusion are always wrong and acts of inclusion are always right. In institutions that accept the inclusion axiom, whoever can sustain their claim to the more inclusive position holds the moral high ground in debates over policy, and whoever represents the less inclusive position bears a huge burden of proof. Indeed, since the axiom declares inclusion to be good and exclusion to be evil, the discussant defending the less inclusive position will be pictured as defending immoral policies.

But inclusion is not and can never be an absolute value. It is logically impossible because the categories of insider and outsider mutually define each other. They are correlatives; you cannot have one without the other. You cannot include someone in an institution, school, club, or church unless there are boundaries that distinguish between those inside and those outside. Groups are defined by what they are not as well as what they are. In fact, this is true of every finite thing. Only the Absolute itself escapes the relativity of all other concepts and things.

Inclusion as a Rhetorical Ploy

In actual practice advocates of social justice theory are very exclusive. Five minutes in a faculty meeting in any contemporary university will teach you that. They use the rhetoric of inclusivity when they wish to break through boundaries they do not like and the rhetoric of demonization and the practice of cancelation to exclude those who defend those boundaries. And it is no mystery where those boundaries lie. As I argued in a previous essay, social justice theorists apply “inclusion” only to people who have been rejected, overlooked, condemned, or marginalized by traditional society. It does not apply to political conservatives of any ethnicity, to traditional Christians and Jews male or female, or to anyone religious or non-religious who defends traditional sexual morality. White men are automatically excluded unless they signal that they are among the woke*and confess their original sin of being born into the dominant group in a systemically racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic society.

The Bottom Line

The real issue to be decided, then, is not whether to be inclusive or exclusive. Every institution is both. The question that must be answered concerns the identity and mission of the institution being discussed. Clarity about the identity and mission of the college or church or business or club or service organization will settle the question of boundaries and hence of who may be included and who must be excluded.

*One currently popular way to signal your wokeness is placing your “preferred pronouns” in parentheses after your name in your email signature.

Next Time: I have now finished the analytic and logical critique of the DEI philosophy. I can proceed to my Christian response to it.