This is the promised update supplement from a few days ago. At the end of last week I was pushing through various errands and tasks, trying to get ahead of myself in preparation for an evening and a day in London, wrapped around a regular if not frequent early-morning prayer meeting at the church I serve. The week was too busy to allow me to do everything I would have wished to do, so I had to work out a few priorities. One of them was trying to identify the source of a bug infestation which turned out to be weevils in a bag of birdseed, and then to deal with them. All gags about the lesser of two weevils have already been attempted. When you have a merry band of the little blighters waving a cheery hello in your study every morning, the comic effect wears off swiftly.
Last Friday night, I went to St James Clerkenwell to hear Mark Driscoll at an event appallingly entitled - I hope and imagine and presume not by him - “Mark Driscoll Unleashed in London” (as blogged here by Adrian Warnock), which is a bit too American Werepreacher in London even for a man who describes himself as hairy enough to be part-Wookiee. Anyway, the vicar of St James - a very welcoming man - was a typically urbane and self-deprecating Anglican clergyman, which was (to me) an intriguing and slightly strange counterpoint to Mark and the two other hairy Americans travelling with him, Scott Thomas of the Acts 29 Network, and David Fairchild, the Acts 29 International European Representative (introduced in subtle fashion as a converted cage fighter with a chest like a boat).
Mark preached from Acts 17, from which the Mars Hill Church - which he pastors - is named. He set out his stall in many respects. It was somewhere between running commentary and rolling exegesis, with occasional but pointed application. Anyone who had heard any of Mark’s sermons at NewFrontiers from the previous few days would immediately have heard some of the same notes sounded. It was a fairly thorough and often insightful survey of the passage and it was toward the end that Mark hotted up. In dealing with Paul’s address in the midst of the Areopagus, he spoke of contextualization and contention. The bogey-word contextualization he addressed quite carefully, emphasizing that the goal of contextualization, as he views it, is not to make the gospel relevant, but to demonstrate the gospel’s abiding relevancy. Paul uses cultural reference points familiar to the Athenians to obtain a hearing (I can almost hear the explosions of horror at the potential abuses of such a declaration, and I think I understand them). But he then contends with them, introducing the truth of God into his address and making hard contact on the realities of sin, repentance, judgement and grace. He identified three responses: contempt, curiosity, conversion. With regard to the first, we must expect to be brushed off - sometimes aggressively and scornfully - by those who will not receive the truth. Some are curious, and they may eventually be saved, though it may take some time for them to consider more fully and explore more carefully the truths to which they have been introduced. Some, when they hear of Jesus, will be converted, and added to the church. Toward the end of the sermon, he pointed out that vigorous Christianity is counter-cultural in many respects, that the Christian lifestyle is “alternative” in many modern Western cities. Here he made people laugh, and one funny example quickly turned into a comic riff on encounters with the weirdos of Seattle. That, I suspect, is one of the disadvantages of being competently comical: he didn’t quite lose his thread, but he seemed to me to be diverted for a while, until he wrenched it back to the point that he was making.
On Saturday, I went to the Dwell Conference in London, at which Mark preached twice, Scott Thomas addressed the qualities of an Acts 29 church planter, and Steve Timmis of the Crowded House in Sheffield preached twice. Again, Adrian Warnock plans to post more comment and video for those who are interested. Mark’s two sermons were on the religion of works vs. the gospel of grace, and on preaching Jesus (which latter address was cut short and a Q&A session introduced, because it was the last session of the day and there was an air of weariness about preacher and hearers alike). I appreciated Scott’s session as well: he asked 20 questions, many of them to do with character and grace as well as gift, which seem to me to be good questions for any pastor to ask in terms of his heart and desires. To be honest, I struggled with Steve Timmis. I did not find him particularly clear, and I don’t think the structure of his second session was particularly helpful: his points drove his exegesis, rather than the other way round. Maybe I am more attuned to - and correspondingly suspicious of - things in the UK, but I would have liked him to make plain what he was not saying (which begged too many questions) as well as what he was. That’s not intended as an attack on a brother in Christ: I do not know Steve Timmis, and am simply making an assessment of this particular occasion. Others doubtless found him more profitable.
Again, my main reason for attending was to hear Mark Driscoll. His interweb ubiquity and the number of people who seem to be ready to stand up for and against him intrigued me. I had listened to him preach, and have read several of his books so far. In order to interact fairly with him, his friends and his foes, I wanted to hear him for myself. I am also conscious that if the Driscoll bandwagon arrives in the UK, it would be worth knowing better the people and movements who stand ready to jump aboard, co-opting the name and riding the momentum, for better or for worse.
I found him very helpful in the morning session especially. He was very plain and painfully convicting when dealing not only with the tendency to and reality of idolatry in the human heart, but also the corresponding problem of a religion of works once we have left rank paganism behind. If we are to minister to the obviously unrighteous we must be at least as frank with and devastating to the self-righteous (who, it might be argued, worship the idol self). There were plenty of stimulating asides about the nature of idolatry and ‘religion’ per se from a man who has given himself to study and understand these things. His afternoon session was briefer, and he was wearier, but he dealt fairly broadly with what it means to bring Jesus to bear on sinners before answering questions. There he re-produced a couple of his more famous rants, including one on sexuality and a healthy and righteous attitude to it. Was he crude? At points, borderline. Was he right? Substantially so. Was it British? Undoubtedly not! Does that matter? Not in the slightest. To be honest, if he was dressed in a suit and tie, slightly more guarded in his speech, and less funny, I can imagine many of my more extensively (breadth rather than depth) Reformed brethren commending him for his honesty, clarity and distinctness in this matter.
He also made two comments about British Christians that I found insightful. British culture, he suggested, had impacted the church in Britain. He had watched people while here. Firstly, recognising something of our surface politeness, he nevertheless suggested that there is a lot of nastiness underneath. He described it as “fake niceness”: we smile while we stab. We are apparently gracious and truly pushy. Secondly, we are characterised by cowardice. We will not say what needs to be said, and we will not say what we mean. In my humble estimation, both charges are true.
I had a chance to speak briefly with Mark toward the end of the day. I explained where I am coming from theologically and ecclesiologically as a Reformed Baptist. Trying to locate myself in the spectrum, I said that in many respects I would stand with - and painfully far behind - Spurgeon (Mark is a big fan of the man), and that at many points in which he disagreed with Spurgeon he would probably disagree with me and I with him. I tried to encourage him, and assured him that I was learning from him. Without trying to be at all condescending (and I hope that I succeeded) I said that if he was delivering pizza, I do not like all the packaging; I do like many of the toppings, but find others very hard to swallow; I also think I like the delivery guy.
What do I mean? Negatively, I don’t buy everything that Mark teaches, and I am not always persuaded that it is presented in a way that most glorifies God. In this category are such matters as the cultivation of cultural relevance, the nature and form of worship, the structures and practice of church government, the so-called charismatic gifts (his views on dreams and prophecy, for example, or his conviction that God spoke audibly to him), some of what I believe to be pragmatism (church growth pursued on the basis of statistical analysis?) and - if I knew them - perhaps half a hundred other things. I think he is wrong or, in some cases, at least not fully Biblically nuanced on many of these matters. I imagine that he struggles to reign in his comic capacity (much as Spurgeon did, although perhaps with less success), and I think that he sometimes does comic routines and riffs which can be a little samey when you have heard them three times in a week (OK, so the guy was also knackered, and admitted that he was increasingly inclined to repeat himself). I also don’t think that my opinion bothers him in the slightest, but I do think that he is himself concerned to be right, and seeks to be so.
As to the detail of these things, if I come to the conclusion that there is something dangerous that I should identify, I can do so. But I do think that those things are first and foremost for my brother to hear from me. Public figures do put themselves up for public evaluation, but that doesn’t mean that they need to be publicly excoriated just for fun. I do get frustrated with the cheap pot-shots so easily taken from all sides, and think that we too readily forget what it means to communicate according to Scripture guidance. I also hear people talk about the ‘trajectory’ that he is on as if that excuses what are or may be aberrations from the Bible, which I think is shortsighted. In addition, if everyone who disagrees with him dismisses him as a freak beneath their notice, or condemns him out of hand, then how would he (or, for that matter, any one of us) ever learn?
Positively, I like Mark’s manly vigour, what I discern to be his honesty and integrity, his humour (when well-used), and his freshness of approach, with often stimulating readings and applications of Scripture. I like much of what I see of the man, even though I do not always agree with him, and sometimes vigorously so. I appreciate that I at least know what I don’t agree with, because he is plain about what he believes. I think he has made many of the right enemies, and I can stand against them with him. I appreciate that he would at least argue with me from the Bible (most of the time). I like his desire and intention to preach the gospel as fully as he understands it, and to exalt the Lord Jesus as much as he is enabled. I like his boldness, even brashness, and his willingness to suffer for what he believes to be right. I like his concern to preach the good news to the most wretched, and I appreciate the fact that the Lord seems to be blessing his ministry to many whom I am not reaching. I recall something that I read in Ted Donnelly’s outstanding book on Heaven and Hell that I think I could apply in degree to Mark Driscoll. He writes of the effect that an accurate doctrine of Hell should have upon Christians with regard to our witness to the lost. Pastor Donnelly says that
it is in this area that other believers can challenge us by their overwhelming zeal, their passion for the lost, their commitment to prayer and to bold, imaginative activity. Their theology may be defective, their evangelism unbalanced, their methodology suspect and none of these can be defended. But their enthusiasm is commendable, their zeal a rebuke and a stimulus to us. God who, as the Puritans loved to say, ‘can draw a straight line with a crooked stick’, blesses their compassionate, believing witness and uses them to bring many to faith.[1]
I do not mean to damn with faint praise. I mean to confess that - if I truly believe in a sovereign God, and know myself a creature, a sinner, and a servant - I can learn from Mark Driscoll. I am more than willing to do so. I cannot be undiscerning; I should not be foolish. I ought to manifest the courage of my convictions as Mark does his. But ought I not also to imitate him as he imitates Christ? He has, I think, a deep grasp on the saving realities of the glorious gospel of Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God, and is determined to preach it as fully and freely as he knows how. In that, I am happy to pray that God would bless him, happy to learn from him, and ready to ask that he - as I - might grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.
[1] Edward Donnelly,
Heaven and Hell (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2001). 58.
