How Christian Faith Can Sustain the Life of the Mind
God’s Name in Vain: The Wrongs and Rights of Religion in Politics
Measuring the Music: Another Look at the Contemporary Christian Music Debate
Engaging God’s World: A Christian Vision of Faith, Learning, and Living
How Christian Faith Can Sustain the Life of the Mind
By Richard T. Hughes. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans, 2001. 172 pages.
Richard Hughes, Distinguished Professor of Religion at Pepperdine University, sets forth a convincing case for cultivation of the intellectual dimension of human experience in this recent work. Some within academia might immediately object to the title’s attempt to suggest even an inter-relationship between “faith” and “the mind,” since there are those who view these concepts as mutually exclusive. Hughes takes this objection seriously, presenting evidence that both provokes further reflection and demonstrate not only an inter-relationship of the two, but also interdependency. The book is directed principally to scholars, but it is equally applicable to and accessible by all who seek to love God with all their minds. Hughes explicitly states his premise: “Christian scholars who hope to connect their scholarship and teaching with their Christian faith in a meaningful way must learn to think theologically and to ground their work in a clear theological vision” (xvii). Since “thinking theologically” may suggest the same oxymoronic impediment as does the book’s title, Hughes sets about to answer the fundamental question: Can Christian faith sustain the life of the mind?
The first step in his response defines the phrase “life of the mind.” Hughes posits four principal characteristics: 1) it commits us to a rigorous and disciplined search for truth; 2) in the context of the search for truth, it entails genuine conversation with a diversity of perspectives and worldviews that are different from our own; 3) it involves critical thinking as we seek to analyze and assess the worldviews and perspectives we have studied; and 4) it involves intellectual creativity (2-4). Having so defined the terms of the question, Hughes proceeds to argue that dynamic Christian faith can indeed sustain the life of the mind, precisely because it requires us “to learn to make connections and to think creatively about the meaning of what we believe” (6) (emphasis by author).
In chapters two and three, Hughes addresses the historical context of the “religion of the Republic” and the development of higher education in America in order to observe how the role of religion has contributed to defining the values of the modern academy in the United States. He then proposes how the Christian tradition, understood in board terms, might interact with these academic values in a meaningful way. For example, Hughes deduces from the Christian tradition: “If I confess the sovereignty of God and the finitude of humankind, I confess as well that my reason is inevitably impaired and that my knowledge is always incomplete” (39). This idea connects meaningfully to the modern academy’s valuing of critical engagement because “this confession empowers me to critically scrutinize my own theories, my own judgments, and my own understandings . . . . Once I make this confession, I must be open to other voices – voices from other cultures, other races, other ethnic traditions; voices from different places and different historical periods; yes, even voices from other religions” (40). The openness Hughes urges, though, is not openness to indifferent acceptance or the extreme of relativism. Rather, it is an openness to listen which allows one to carefully analyze and thoroughly assess not only the perspective of others but also one’s own.
In chapter four, Hughes examines four major Christian traditions—the Roman Catholic, the Reformed, the Anabaptist, and the Lutheran—in light of how each of the four contributes to sustaining the life of the mind. For the Roman Catholic tradition, he points to its rich intellectual heritage, the sacramental principle within its theological motifs, its universality, and finally the communitarian nature of redemption in which the church is not simply the hierarchical magisterium but rather is understood as being “comprised of all the people of God, scattered throughout the world, who together form this community of faith” (65). Quoting Monika Hellwig, Hughes concludes that in the Catholic university, the life of the mind must translate itself into “genuine bonds of friendship and mutual respect and support [which] are envisaged as the core of the education enterprise, because not only book learning but human formation for leadership and responsibility in all walks of life are sought through the community of higher education” (65).
The Reformed tradition offers additional significant contributions to sustain the life of the mind, namely: 1) the notion popularized by Abraham Kuyper of a Christian worldview; 2) the conviction that all truth is God’s truth; and 3) the concept of the integration of faith and learning (67-71). On this third point, Hughes cites Arthur Holmes’s explication of integration: “Jesus Christ is . . . Creator and Lord of every created thing. All our knowledge of anything comes into focus around that fact. We see nature, persons, society, and the arts and sciences in proper relationship to their divine Creator and Lord. The truth is a coherent whole by virtue of the common focus that ties it all into one” (71).
From the Anabaptist (Mennonite) tradition, Hughes observes four substantive means to sustain the life of the mind. The first is a willingness to question conventional wisdom through a commitment to independent thinking. Second, members of this Christian tradition routinely counsel one another to abandon self in the interest of others, and so service to others, especially the marginalized in society, is at the heart of their faith. Third, this tradition offers, in Hughes words, “an extraordinary basis” from which to engage in critical thinking because it is a “story-formed community” (76-83). The fourth contribution emerges from its historic emphasis on humility which thereby “prepares its scholars to embrace one of the cardinal virtues of the academic guild: the willingness to admit that my understandings are fragmentary and incomplete and that, indeed, I could be wrong” (84).
Concluding his survey of Christian traditions, Hughes notes that the Lutheran model offers two essential resources for the life of the mind. The first is Luther’s insistence on human finitude and the sovereignty of God (85). In the context of higher education, this position means that everyone must always confess that he or she could be wrong (86). But, it does not necessarily follow, Hughes argues, that we can therefore have no confidence in what we know: “We do indeed have confidence in what we know since we are made in the image of God. At the same time, our confidence must be tentative, not absolute, since we are victims of sin and the fall” (87). The second resource that the Lutheran tradition offers is a theme, an idea, that stands at the heart of Lutheran thought: paradox (88). The authentic Lutheran vision, Hughes observes, “never calls for Lutherans to transform the secular world into the Kingdom of God as many in the Reformed tradition have advocated . . . . Nor does it call for Lutherans to separate from the world as the heirs of the Anabaptist sometimes seek to do. Instead, the Christian must reside in two worlds at one and the same time: the world of nature and the world of grace” (90). While only contributing two resources in his analysis, Hughes acknowledges, “The Lutheran tradition possesses some of the most potent theological resources for sustaining the life of the mind that one can imagine. It encourages dialogue between the Christian faith and the world of ideas, fosters intellectual humility, engenders a healthy suspicion of absolutes, and helps create a conversation in which all conversation partners are taken seriously” (93).
Though quite broad in scope, Hughes’s survey of Christian traditions neglects to consider the contributions of the most enduring of all Christian traditions—the Orthodox. Having observed the core notions of universality arising from the Roman Catholic, integration from the Reformed, service from the Anabaptist, and paradox from the Lutheran, Hughes seems to have overlooked the Orthodox contribution that is most often expressed in the word “mystery.” This deficiency is partially resolved when Hughes relies heavily upon the work of Madeleine L’Engle. Although he does not expressly confess any tie to the Orthodox tradition, Hughes cites L’Engle in his extended discussion of “Wonder as an Act of Christian Teaching” in the fifth chapter. He states, “Her work is never didactic . . . because she consistently writes about the god whose face is the face of mystery, and who therefore shatters the nice, tidy answers that we often like to give. In the presence of such a God, we are forced to wonder, to imagine and to question yesterday’s answers—those answers that seemed so clear at the time” (105).
Continuing with his emphasis on wonder, Hughes seeks to answer the question of what it might mean to teach from a Christian perspective. He sums up the task of the teacher in these words: “It is not my job to present my students with pre-digested answers, but it is my job to inspire wonder, to awaken imagination, to stimulate creativity, and to provide an atmosphere that supports them as, together, we ask question about meaning and good and evil, about God and life and death” (106). Hughes proceeds to issue a call for teaching and scholarship that pose the ultimate questions of life, that embrace the “upside-down” values both articulated and exhibited by Christ, and that both inspire a passion for living and infuse a certain hope for the future. In his final chapter, Hughes attempts to respond to anticipated critiques with a defense of “Christian scholarship” and an affirming of the commission to “proclaim” the Gospel. In short, Hughes confesses, “I want to think “Christianly” about my teaching and about my scholarship. If, in the process of doing so, my work finally resembles that of other academicians – even secular academicians – who are generally regarded as serious scholars and teachers, then I can only rejoice that, at least in some measure, I have successfully integrated my Christian faith with my life’s work” (137).
Hughes’s work is an outstanding advancement of the ongoing challenge of scholars and teachers alike, who take seek truth seriously, to integrate faith and learning. Scholars, teachers, and indeed all who endeavor to persevere in a life of learning would do well to read Hughes contemplatively and so continue integratively in scholarship, teaching, and learning, to pose and ponder the persistent questions of life.
Cordell P. Schulten, JD
Associate Professor, Interdisciplinary Studies
Associate Academic Dean
Missouri Baptist University
© 2003 Missouri Baptist University. All rights reserved.
God’s Name in Vain: The Wrongs and Rights of Religion in Politics
By Stephen L. Carter. New York: Basic Books, 2000. 248 pages
Stephen Carter, the William Nelson Cromwell Professor of Law at Yale University, simultaneously sounds a warning and raises a call to action in his recent book, God’s Name in Vain. As its subtitle suggests, the warning focuses upon the dangers of politics, particularly electoral politics, to the religious, while the call seeks both to defend and further inspire the religious to active engagement with political issues. Carter begins with an unequivocal statement of his two interrelated theses: “First, that there is nothing wrong, and much right, with the robust participation of the nation’s many religious voices in debates over matters of public moment. Second, that religions—although not democracy—will almost always lose their best, most spiritual selves when they choose to be involved in the partisan, electoral side of American politics” (1). No speculation is required on the question of the author’s motivation for he is quite candid in confessing that the book sprang from both love and fear—his love of God and country and his fear that those who endeavor to advance what they dearly believe to be the best interests of the one upon the other are actually contributing to the undermining of both. Carter, however, prefers to characterize his book neither as a warning nor as a call, but rather as a gentle and loving reminder of what the Third commandment commands; hence, the book’s title.
In his introduction, Carter posits, “On one side are those who treat the merest scintilla of religion in our public and political life as an offense against the American idea. On the other are those who believe it to be the responsibility of government to use its power to enforce as law the moral truths of their religion. The tension between these two wrong ideas is ruining our democracy, and threatens to ruin many of our religious traditions as well (1). Carter speaks both as scholar and as prophet. As a scholar, he thoroughly examines the historical, theological, and legal elements of the interaction between religion and politics in America from the abolitionists of the nineteenth century, through the civil rights activists of the twentieth, to the present-day debate between pro-life and pro-choice. As a prophet, he calls the religious back to the roots of their beliefs that should shape their role in bringing about change in the world.
The book is composed of two parts. The first is headed “Religion’s Sphere.” That sphere, as Carter argues convincingly, is not a segregated portion of life, but it encompasses all of life. He summarily dismisses four objections that are routinely raised against religious voices in American political debate. First is the objection that religious activism and religious language in politics are un-American or, at least, undemocratic. Carter demolishes this objection by historical analysis of the two greatest social movements within our country over the past two centuries—the abolition of slavery and the abolition of legal racial segregation. Both were "nurtured in churches, publicly justified in religious language, and unapologetically inspired by the Word of God" (20). The second objection is based on the First Amendment. Carter demonstrates by using both history and legal precedent that the "wall of separation" the First Amendment supposedly erects between church and state has "no effect whatsoever on the consciences and voices of individual citizens as they seek to influence what government does in their names," and has "minimal effect-and maybe none-on the words or arguments that elected officials are entitled to offer in support of the politics they approve" (20). The third objection-that the power of religion is uniquely dangerous among human endeavors, more likely to result in oppression and injustice than are secular ideologies-is likewise dismantled by a balanced and objective analysis of history. Finally, Carter challenges the objection that religionists are, by the nature of their beliefs, significantly more dogmatic than anybody else. Citing Pole John Paul II's encyclical Faith and Reason, Carter argues that relativism, not religion, defies reason.
Having dispatched these four initial objections, Carter directs the weight of his work upon what he recognizes as the two most serious objections to religious involvement in politics. He labels these objections the Integrity Objection and the Electoral Objection. The first is, when a religious community becomes involved too regularly in politics, it loses touch with its own best self and is so doing risks losing the power, and the obligation, to engage in witness from afar, to stand outside the corridors of power and call those within to righteousness (22). The second serious objection to which Carter concerns himself is this: “When a religion decides to involve itself in the partisan side of politics, in supporting one candidate or party over another, it not only runs a high risk of error; it also, inevitably, winds up softening its message, compromising doctrine to make it more palatable to a public that might remain un-persuaded by the Word unadulterated” (22). Throughout his responses to these objections, Carter’s warning against compromise and call to resistance resound through his practical explication of the Third Commandment.
One of the particular features of Carter’s argument that infuses it with authenticity and enhances its persuasiveness is his use of and evident respect for the ideas of those who have not only talked about the role of religion in politics, but who have also lived by, and, in some cases died for, the ideas they espoused. In this regard, Carter presents the lives and words of Fannie Lou Hamer, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and C. S. Lewis. Mrs. Hamer, who had survived beating and torture in a Mississippi jail for insisting upon her constitutional rights, was the founder and guiding spirit of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party. The MFDP, in 1964, challenged the all-white Mississippi slate of delegates to the Democratic National Convention. When confronted by Hubert Humphrey in a classic attempt at political maneuvering, Mrs. Hamer, a devout evangelical Christian, stood her ground demanding, in response to Humphrey query, not a place at the table but “the beginning of a New Kingdom right here on earth.” Carter observes, “Humphrey wanted to talk about policy (ending racial discrimination). Hamer wanted to talk about religion (establishment of the Kingdom)…. Hamer sought justice. Humphrey sought electoral victory (with justice as a possible, but not a certain, side effect). And that is why the negotiation failed. Hamer knew or sensed what is missed by too many religionists who have the opportunity for political influence: there is a sharp distinction between knowing what needs to be done and choosing the people to do it” (28). For Carter, Fannie Lou Hamer embodies one of the essential roles of religion in political debate—that of the prophet calling the world to account and pointing us in the direction of God’s will—but not trying to tell us who should be in charge.
Carter presents another facet of his analysis in Dietrich Bonhoeffer—once again through both his life and words. When looking to Bonhoeffer, Carter warns of the greatest danger threatening the heart of the religious engaged in politics—compromise—which Bonhoeffer wrote was “the enemy of the Word” (37). Carter notes that Bonhoeffer wrote this in the context of the struggle by many German churches to resist the orthodoxy being imposed upon them by the Nazi regime, which wanted to control the content of the Christian message. A chapter later, Carter quotes Bonhoeffer’s idea that compromise “always springs from hatred of the ultimate.” Carter explains, “The desire for compromise arises, according to Bonhoeffer, from the desire, even among the religious, to flee from God’s word: “Even the raising of the question of the ultimate, even the endeavor to give effect to God’s word in its authority for life in the world, is now accounted radicalism and apathy or antipathy towards established orders of the world and towards the men who are subject to these orders” (51 quoting Bonhoeffer’s Ethics).
In light of these insights from Bonhoeffer, Carter thus warns that when a religion enters politics, it at once finds itself bombarded with demands for compromise. The message must be softened, or hardened, or omitted altogether. The risk is especially great, Carter admonishes, when a religion enters electoral politics. Candidates welcome religious supporters as they do anybody who might be able to raise money, ring doorbells, or generate votes. But that support, Carter argues, always leads to infidelity—infidelity of religion to its own best self (38).
Following upon his regard for Hamer and Bonhoeffer, Carter turns to the ideas of the Anglican author C. S. Lewis expressed in a little known 1941 essay entitled “Meditation upon the Third Commandment.” Carter looks to Lewis in support of his critique of both the Moral Majority and the Christian Coalition. Lewis’s essay was aimed at forestalling the creation of a “Christian Party” in England. His reasoning is applicable to two later efforts to solidify the “religious right’s” influence in American politics of the ’80s and ’90s. According to Lewis, the problem with the establishment of a Christian party was that it either would not be a true party or would not be truly Christian. If purely Christian, Lewis proposed, the party would not succeed in electoral politics, for it would be too small to make a difference and would probably include parts of Christ’s message that nobody quite wanted to hear. If, on the other hand, it was successful in politics, the party would cease to be distinctively Christian, because it would compromise the purity of doctrine for the sake of transient political advantage (53). While acknowledging the validity of the former, Carter depends more heavily upon the later argument advanced by Lewis.
Having thus raised the warning against compromise, Carter proceeds to issue his call to resistance – what he characterizes as religion’s essential role when engaging the issue of public import. To support his argument for this proper voice of religion within the political realm, Carter returns to a historical and legal analysis of the involvement of religion in the movements for the abolition of slavery and the abolition of legal racial segregation. The second part of his book, appropriately headed “Religion’s Voice,” sets forth principled instructions for the renewal of the religious in their prophetic role.
Professor Carter presents a balanced and scholarly response to the objections raised against the religious engaging ideas in the public forum of political debate. His words are both a weighty warning to those overzealous who have been attempting to establish the Kingdom of God by political maneuverings and a solemn call to those who, while taking their religion seriously, have too long lived compartmentalized lives failing to resist the rising tides of injustice and unrighteous that inevitably plague all human societies. Let us heed his warning and respond to his call.
Cordell P. Schulten, JD
Associate Professor, Interdisciplinary Studies
Associate Academic Dean
Missouri Baptist University
© 2003 Missouri Baptist University. All rights reserved.
Measuring the Music: Another Look at the Contemporary Christian Music Debate
By John Makujina. Willow Street, PA: Old Paths Publications, 2002. 369 pages.
In a guest editorial for the 1984 journal Baptist History and Heritage, John P. Newport, then vice-president of academic affairs and provost of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary, offered this challenge: “As Baptists grow in influence in . . . American life, they have a correlative responsibility for the total culture. . . . Baptists need to continue to seek to improve the quality and scope of their musical . . . involvement in the days ahead.” Newport continued, “Critical discrimination must be encouraged. Music should be continually reexamined and reformed. Hymnody appropriate to the twentieth century should be created. New music forms should be utilized” (3). In the early 1980s the predominant music of Baptist churches, large and small, involved organs, pianos, and adult choirs; children’s choirs and youth choirs filled the halls on Wednesday or Sunday nights; the idea of church orchestras was fairly new. In those days, few of the laypersons and leadership in churches knew the challenges Newport’s words may have foreseen with the advent of contemporary Christian music (CCM).
Almost two decades later, as an increasing number of Baptist and other evangelical churches sing and play those new music forms, John Makujina’s book Measuring the Music: Another Look at the Contemporary Christian Music Debate answers the call to encourage critical thinking about church music, specifically CCM. Makujina offers a detailed, source-rich answer to many of the questions heard among church musicians and laypersons alike: Is CCM theologically sound? Is it the only form of worship music that can reach unbelievers? Does it mimic too closely the worldliness of the culture? Is it dangerous to the minds and hearts of its hearers? The author unashamedly pronounces CCM to be a shallow, if not devastating, pastime among Christian youth, spending most of his time on the performers and performances of CCM rather than the worship services that include it.
Makujina begins the book with an overview of the current popularity of CCM both as an industry and as a preferred music style for worship, naming several periodicals and educational venues dedicated to CCM. He follows with a narrative of dissenting authors ranging from those who write for parents to those who began a thorough and critical study of the movement. He then summarizes the books of the last decade which defend CCM’s theology, musical history, and performers. Early on, Makujina explains that his book is meant to critique each of the defenses offered by a number of CCM’s proponents.
In the first of eight chapters, “Worldliness According to the New Testatment,” the author begins what will comprise much of the rest of the book – the refutation of positions held by Steve Miller, a noted CCM defender. Although Makujina agrees with Miller’s and others’ interpretations of New Testament passages in which Paul and John refer to the unregenerate minds of unbelievers, he argues that Paul’s appearance in Athens, in which the apostle demonstrates his extensive knowledge of the language and culture, demonstrates that Paul used it for teaching rather than “brotherhood.” Considering Paul’s position that he needed to be “all things” to unbelievers, Makujina explains that the position was meant as a way to avoid offense rather than as a plan to evangelize. Paul’s plan, Makujina explains, was to preach the cross of Christ rather than to use the popular forms of rhetoric which one might expect an exceptional linguist like Paul to use to impress his listeners. Other passages on Paul’s suggestions about altering the use of tongues are explained as edifying for the believers, with the added bonus of not offending the unbelievers. Addressing parallels of borrowed practices—ablutions, Canaanite music, animal sacrifice—Makujina explains that those forms of borrowed culture developed “independently of one another” (34) and that God instructed his chosen in forms of worship and behavior closest to what God approved of in their daily life. Some cultural practices were not sinful and therefore could be included; some may have been practiced by the Israelites and then borrowed by the cultures surrounding them.
The next three chapters deal specifically with the worldliness of rock music. In “Rock Music and Body Image,” he takes little time before naming “rock-based dance styles…a spectacle of bodily excess and ritualistic extreme” (42). Straying not too far from the historical position of Baptists concerning dancing and quoting a variety of sociologists, he emphasizes the dances as aphrodisiacs associated with rock music and argues that dancing and moshing at CCM concerts—and some worship services—are merely copies of the same activities at secular rock concerts. This chapter also covers expressions of eroticism and violence by both secular rock concerts and CCM performers. Armed with quotes from the performers themselves as well as from fairly graphic promotional materials and magazine articles, Makujina paints a picture of rebellion and mayhem onstage and off. The chapter ends with his description of the devotion of CCM fans to their favorite performers and the challenges faced by even the most careful celebrities who try to protect themselves from the lure of celebrity worship and fame.
In “The Language of Clothing,” the author refutes several of CCM’s defenders of performers’ clothing by saying that any “attire” should be measured against “biblical standards of modesty" (92). He suggests that by glamorizing the rebellion, violence, androgyny, or sexual innuendo of clothing styles, CCM promotes those aberrations. If clothing signifies any negative social message, it should not be worn.
In the chapter titled “Toward the Meaning of Rock Music,” Makujina’s purpose is to analyze and debunk CCM’s ethnolomusical theory that music is neutral and that its message changes from one culture to another. Identifying that theory as deconstructivist, he further states that Christian rock music supporters believe that musical codes can be transformed into spiritual messages. He argues that music, even apart from lyrics, can “communicate good and evil” (111). The choice of young listeners to use loud rock music to mirror their anger or to process it is not a solution and certainly not a Biblical solution; furthermore, rock and CCM promoters highlight the rebellious, violent, out-of-control aspects of the music. Most telling is his assertion that the meaning of Christianity is being negotiated to make it parallel “with the musical message of rock” (117). He argues that for several reasons the music itself carries a more powerful message than do the lyrics: It is difficult for audiences to understand the words; fans may not even care what words they are hearing; the words themselves are subject to interpretation; and finally that syncopation, especially the backbeat, dominates the melody and harmony. He quotes experts in a variety of fields to show that music apart from lyrics conveys values, emotions, sexuality, eroticism, and ultimately, a worldview.
In “Aesthetics, Music, and Morality,” he answers the question “Can rock music be evaluated from within the arena of beauty?” He notes that CCM aestheticians “admit that the measure for what is good or bad in music is found within man himself, who assigns it value based on its ability to give pleasure” (153). Meanwhile, he wants Christians to be able to evaluate a musical style against a universal standard of aesthetics deriving from God as the ultimate arbiter of quality: “Divine attributes such as righteousness, love, holiness, purity, majesty, order, reason, harmony, balance, and goodness should govern our evaluation and production of music” (155). He identifies the need for standards of skill, noting that many rock and CCM instrumentalists and singers pride themselves in being untrained and undisciplined; he also defines the word noise in the context of nontraditional artists who seek to make art out of noise. The chapter includes a reminder that all of men’s endeavors are tainted by sin and that even though CCM may be surrealistic and nihilistic and an accepted part of worship services, no one has carefully evaluated its theology.
The next chapter, “Rock Music and Psychological Studies,” is entirely dedicated to the author’s refutations of psychological and physical studies conducted by or cited by Steven Miller in defense of CCM. Claiming that each survey or study was flawed either by its inclusions and omissions or by shortsightedness, Makujina interprets their ultimate findings as consistently negative effects. In response to audiological concerns (primarily hearing loss among subjects), Makujina argues that a study of scripture supports his view that the overwhelming volume of some CCM is not acceptable, that biblical singers and instrumentalists could not have created ear-piercing volumes because they were often outdoors and had no way to amplify sound.
Makujina continues his refutations in the chapter titled "On the History of Ecclesiastic Music and CCM" by contradicting Miller's argument that CCM follows the normal course of Christian hymnody in its historical acceptance of secular influences. Makujina painstakingly answers each of Miller's assertions, pronouncing them incomplete or incorrect. He then advances his own interpretation of secular influence: The earliest Christian music was based on Jewish psalms and Hebrew poetry; fourth-century church fathers critiqued the use of pagan musical practice; Latin poets whose works were sometimes used for hymnody actually used acrostics similar to those used in Hebrew literature; when church fathers studied pagan poetry, their purpose was academic, not spiritual; and when they became pragmatic for the sake of attracting the pagan world, they used methods that Makujina claims "would plague the church for centuries to come" (225).
Martin Luther, according to both Miller and Makujina, did try to simplify hymnody to appeal to the average person, but whereas Miller emphasizes the secular influence on Luther, Makujina offers other reasons, sometimes spiritual ones: Luther used simple music because the rhythms of German did not suit Latin hymnody; Latin hymns contained incorrect theology; simple music was relaxing and character-building, and his new four-part harmony would challenge the mind of the young. He maintains further that Luther’s popular music was actually taken from religious folk tunes and from the more sophisticated art songs that derived from the church.
Ending this section, Makujina concludes that the historical accounts of the church’s reaction to and gradual acceptance of centuries of “new music” is not valid for CCM because contemporary Christian music is an industry (unlike other popular music changes), because it is not based on folk music (much of which was religious), and because it includes accompanying behaviors based on rebellion. CCM mirrors not so much the current state of unbelievers as it does the church’s evangelical youth who themselves are becoming more secular and relativistic.
Makujina’s work fulfills its stated purpose of answering the apologies of CCM proponents. Some sections, however, are more successful than others. His discussions of the aesthetics of rock and the history of church music are two of the strongest. In those areas, he makes the best use of his sources and maintains an objective tone. Useful, too, are the three appendices that present discussions of Paul’s preaching methodology, a study of King David’s dance, and a scholarly look at musical symbolism. On the other hand, the chapters on the worldliness of rock and the accompanying styles of dress descend into emotional and judgmental exhortation. Likewise, the look at psychological studies, in which he sets up a variety of straw men, results in an argument that seems weak and out of place.
The strong parts of the book, though, offer much for church leadership to consider. If contemporary music remains the preeminent form of church music in many evangelical churches, Makujina emphasizes that ministers and musicians must seriously reflect on both the creation and the effects of the music. It is here that Mukujina’s book, and others like it, will be useful, if not definitive, in the preparation of students in Christian universities. Since music is an integral part of human life, all disciplines in Christian universities might consider, at least to some extent, music, including CCM, as part of the curriculum. Some disciplines will look at its creation, form, language, content, and quality; others will look at its effects on the body, mind, and spirit. Theology professors and their students can challenge themselves to actively pursue the CCM view of God and of Jesus. Ministerial students will need to review their own musical tastes in the light of both CCM critics and proponents to create a well-balanced framework within which to evaluate the music. Music faculty, no matter their own preferences, should challenge their music majors to consider and evaluate the forms and performance of CCM as well as those of other musical styles. Psychology classes can continue to research studies of music’s effect on emotions and well-being. They, along with ministerial students, should also consider the effect of CCM services on those born before the 1950s whose church backgrounds included a stern warning against dancing and dance music. Told that they were obedient if they refrained from dancing, they are now often being criticized for not trading in their beloved sedate music for music they consider unholy. Biologists will want to study the physical effect of sound, music, and noise on all ages. English majors may, in their study of poetry, include the lyrics of church music old and new.
Another important question is this: Will the continued use of CCM support the addition of a CCM church music major in Christian universities? If so, what direction should the programs take? Is the music worth studying? Will here be enough academic work available to warrant serious research? Is a CCM major a legitimate pursuit of church music, or is it a capitulation to popular culture?
Beyond these are many other challenging questions for the Christian university to present to its students who will be ministers and members of tomorrow’s churches. Does the use of CCM create an exclusivist atmosphere in churches where there is little room for anyone but solo or small ensemble vocalists and instrumentalists? Will church music encourage or discourage musical excellence? Does the style of singing and playing in CCM demand self-discipline? Will children be inspired to learn to sing or play correctly, and will they have a place in church settings where their beginning skills can be appreciated? Will women find themselves unwelcome in church music where the majority of instrumentalists are male guitarists and drummers? Is the adoption of CCM in Christian worship a move toward anti-intellectualism? Does the move toward adults and children in Baptist churches learning by rote rather than by note signify that the study of musical notation is no longer appropriate for preparing for Christian worship?
John Makujina challenges his audience to study, understand, and respond to the many issues surrounding Contemporary Christian Music. He goes so far as to suggest that his readers boycott CCM concerts and radio stations. Some readers may find themselves disturbed and even angry at many of his accusations; others may find themselves relieved to have a scholarly voice speaking out for them. In either case, it is important to remember that Jesus instructs us to worship neither through the showmanship of the Samaritans nor through the weary orthodoxy of the synagogue but to “worship the Father in spirit and in truth” (John 4:23, KJV).
Mary Ellen Fuquay, M.A.
Instructor of English
Missouri Baptist University
© 2003 Missouri Baptist University. All rights reserved.
Engaging God’s World: A Christian Vision of Faith, Learning, and Living
By Cornelius Plantinga, Jr. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002. 150 pages.
In this slim volume, Cornelius Plantinga, Jr., President of Calvin Theological Seminary, locates Christian higher education within a compelling theological framework. Writing to college students in a simple style and enthusiastic tone, Plantinga weaves his insights about Christian education around classic themes of Reformed theology—creation, fall, and redemption. However, this is not a work of academic theology per se. Instead, the author creatively interacts with his theological sources to demonstrate how a Christian worldview can shape a life characterized by wisdom and compassion.
Plantinga first treats the innate desire in each human being to know God and the concomitant longing for wholeness or shalom. He argues—drawing on C. S. Lewis, St. Augustine, and John Calvin—that desire for beauty and truth is rooted in a more fundamental desire for God. Such desires are energized by a hope for new possibilities. For the Christian, such hope is rooted in the prophetic tradition and is centered on Christ. Plantinga points to Martin Luther King, Jr.’s famous speech “I Have Dream” as an example of a biblically grounded hope that envisioned a future state of social wholeness. Thus, Christian desire and hope do not terminate with the self, but expands to include others.
According to Plantinga, Christians ought to hope for shalom because they are called to work for the restoration of God’s good creation. Creation, as he explains in chapter two, arises from the overflow of God’s trinitarian being, is mediated through Christ, and constitutes a form of knowledge of God. Hence, although creation is distinct from God and is not to be worshiped, Plantinga argues, human beings are called to honor, care for, and restore all realms of creation. These realms of creation include human beings, who are uniquely made in the image of God, as well as nonhuman creatures, the social order, and cultural activity. In his treatment of creation, Plantinga wants to avoid two extremes: a tendency towards Christian Gnosticism that devalues creation and a secular trend toward material reductionism that reduces life to nothing but a chance, biological product. As he unpacks the place and role of human beings in creation, he is careful to point out how a Christian understanding of creation impacts how one lives within the world.
Although Plantinga affirms the goodness of creation, he explores in chapter three why it is also appropriate to say that creation is fallen. Despite our longing for the good, human beings consistently act in ways that are at cross-purposes with their own good. Sin and wickedness, so evident in the world today, results from the corruption of the human heart and this affects individuals as well as institutions. Plantinga argues that the ultimate antidote to such corruption is not found in more education—educators and educational institutions often reflect corrosive attitudes that seem inherent to the human condition. Instead, in chapter four, Plantinga points to the transforming power of divine grace mediated through Christ as the source of our healing and the goal of our human longing. As he narrates the story of Christian redemption and shows how the life, death, and resurrection of Christ provides a new way for living in the world, the author provides illustrations from the Reformed tradition to demonstrate how the experience of redemption energizes one in the task of bringing God’s shalom to others and the world.
Thus, in his final chapter Plantinga discusses vocation as an opportunity to play a vital role in the advancement of God's kingdom in this world. In this chapter, one finds Plantinga’s most concrete discussion of the link between college study and vocational choice with the vision of the Christian life he puts forward. He argues that Christian higher education, in contrast to secular higher education, provides students with the best opportunity to fashion a Christian worldview. However, students attending a Christian college or university cannot expect to achieve a mature, Christian worldview without struggling with alternative ideas and engaging in the hard work of disciplined study. The responsibility of the Christian institution, in turn, is to provide students with knowledge, skills, and an understanding of the virtuous life. Plantinga provides specific criteria for each of these three components of education by which educators can determine if they are doing their best prepare students for their vocation.
Consistent with his Protestant heritage, the author affirms that all Christians have a “calling” and this can be fulfilled in all sorts of jobs and arenas. Students who truly seek the kingdom of God above all else, however, will have set of a criterion which goes beyond money and prestige in determining their choices of vocation. For example, they will ask how their vocation advances God’s kingdom or how it fulfills the Lord’s concern for the “least of these” (116-17). A Christian education, at its best, will inculcate the values and provide the essential components of education so that students can pursue a life wherein their passion intersects with God’s purpose in the world.
It is difficult to find a significant weakness in a book that presents a vision of Christian education and the Christian life that closely resonates with one’s own point of view. My only complaint is that the quotations found in text-boxes throughout the book take up too much space—space that could have been used for more of Plantinga’s insights and clear prose.
I heartily recommend this book as a text for classes exploring the integration of faith and learning, as well as for Christian students and educators. I especially appreciated Plantinga’s holistic view of the Christian life. He takes seriously the warning that faith without works is dead and is just as concerned with actions that are consistent with the kingdom of God—acts of justice, kindness, and love—as he is with right thinking. In an appendix, Plantinga provides thought-provoking questions for each chapter to help classes explore further the implications and application of ideas discussed. If students take to heart Plantinga's vision, the benefits will extend far beyond the classroom.
Benjamin A. Wagner, M.A.
Adjunct Instructor of Interdisciplinary Studies
Missouri Baptist University
© 2003 Missouri Baptist University. All rights reserved.
Quality with Soul: How Six Premier Colleges and Universities Keep Faith with Their Religious Traditions
By Robert Benne. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2001. 217 pages.
In Quality with Soul, Robert Benne analyzes six Christian institutions of higher learning that have successfully integrated their respective Christian visions with academic excellence. A highly regarded scholar in Christian education, the author is currently the Jordan-Trexler Professor of Religion and director of the Center for Religion and Society at Roanoke College, Salem, Virginia. In addition to Quality with Soul, he has written eight books, including The Paradoxical Vision: A Public Theology for the Twenty-First Century, Ordinary Saints: An Introduction to the Christian Life, and Seeing Is Believing: Visions of Life through Film.
The book comprises three sections. Part One, “The Current Situation,” describes the secularization process as it has affected Christian colleges and universities. According to Benne, three components of the Christian tradition should be relevant for a Church-related school: its vision, Christianity’s articulated account of life and reality; its ethos, a Christian way of life; and its personnel, the Christian persons who understand and articulate the Christian vision and embody the ethos of that particular tradition. The author probes the “darkening trends” that have overtaken many of Christian schools since the 1960s. The two external forces are the demands of survival in an increasingly utilitarian educational market and the ascendancy of the so-called “Enlightenment paradigm” in American higher education. Regarding the internal factors, Benne first points to the Christian schools’ inability to articulate their distinctive identity and mission. He then specifically identifies four theological tendencies that have been harmful: pietism, which has little theological substance; liberal theology; “first article” theologies, which are skeptical of the gospel’s power to engage secular learning; and reactionary theologies, which are fundamentalist and anti-intellectual. As the final cause of the secularization, the author points to the weakened mutual accountability and support between Christian schools and their sponsoring churches.
Benne divides church-affiliated schools into four groups: orthodox (fully Christian), critical-mass, intentionally pluralist, and accidentally pluralist (completely secularized). In the orthodox school, the Christian account of reality is publicly and comprehensively relevant to the life of the institution. The critical-mass school is autonomously owned and governed, although the majority of the board, administration, faculty, and students are members of the sponsoring tradition. Even though the Christian voice is assured in the intentionally pluralist school, the sponsoring tradition constitutes a minority in all aspects of the institution’s life. The accidentally pluralist school is a virtually secular institution which maintains nominal ties with its sponsoring heritage. Most of the Christian schools are situated nearer the mid-point on the continuum than either pole.
Part Two, “Six Ventures in Christian Humanism,” constitutes the heart of the book. It describes the visions and ethos of the six church-related schools that have not yielded to the secularization process: Calvin College (Reformed), Wheaton College (evangelical), Baylor University (Southern Baptist), Notre Dame (Roman Catholic), St. Olaf College (Lutheran—ELCA), and Valparaiso University (Lutheran—Missouri Synod). Of the six schools, Calvin and Wheaton are classified as orthodox schools. The theological vision of Calvin College, the Christian Reformed Church’s premier educational institution, is shaped by Abraham Kuyper’s (1837-1920) neo-Calvinism, which emphasizes the life of the mind as well as integrity and wholeness. Based on the belief that human knowledge and action need to be transformed by God’s revealed will, Calvin College has striven to integrate faith (revelation) and learning (reason and experience). Wheaton's theological vision is less denominational, and more evangelical, than Calvin's. In the 1940s, Wheaton College began to transform itself from a revivalist/fundamentalist school into a broadly evangelical institution which takes the intellectual quest seriously. In recent decades, it has implemented faith and learning integration modeled after Calvin’s “integration” approach. The College’s Faculty Seminar in Faith and Learning comprises ten sessions during the new faculty members’ first year.
The four remaining schools—Baylor, Notre Dame, St. Olaf, and Valparaiso-are critical-mass institutions. Baylor belongs to the moderate/centrist-denominationalist group within the Southern Baptist Convention. (The two other groups are the liberal-progressives and the conservative-fundamentalists.) Although the school is not fundamentalist, it is strongly loyal to the Southern Baptist tradition. In the last decade, Baylor has discontinued its policy of adding on "a Christian atmosphere" to higher education, pursuing an active dialogue between faith and learning; the University is committed to training faculty to implement a faith-related perspective in their teaching. Notre Dame's vision is "to provide a forum where through free inquiry and open discussion the various lines of Catholic thought may intersect with all forms of knowledge found in the arts, sciences, professions, and every other area of human scholarship and creativity" (quoted in 86). The institution has grown into a national academic powerhouse without diluting its Catholic vision. The theological vision of St. Olaf and Valparaiso is informed by the three dominant themes of Lutheran theology: the emphasis on an educated clergy, the calling/vocation of all Christians, and a high regard for human reason as a guide to earthly, civil life. St. Olaf “provides an education committed to the liberal arts, rooted in the Christian Gospel, and incorporating a global perspective” (quoted in 90). The administrators at St. Olaf are theologically literate Lutherans, and about a half of the student body is Lutheran. Finally, Valparaiso has consistently engaged faith and learning, sharpening its identity as a Christian university in the Lutheran tradition. Many bright students who attend Valparaiso academically flourish “in a free and creative atmosphere” (94).
Part Three, “Strategies for Maintenance and Renewal,” is the shortest but most original section of the book. Unlike the previous two parts, which are mainly expository, Benne provides in the final part concrete strategies church-related schools can employ to maintain the Christian faith. For example, such schools should strengthen their ties with their sponsoring churches and be formally accountable to them. Boards, administrators, staff and faculty should be selected in a way that strengthens or restores institutions’ Christian roots. Church-related schools should shape an adequate theological vision which is “comprehensive in scope, unsurpassable in its claim to be a vehicle of ultimate truth, and central in its relationship to the issues schools face” (197). This vision should be inculcated in new members of the school, especially faculty, and be guarded by a first-rate theology department. Christian schools also need to encourage their faculty to take courses in Christian theology; fund institutes, centers, endowed professorships, and staff positions to deal with the themes and practices of their sponsoring tradition; and form faith and learning groups.
Although Quality with Soul is generally informative and insightful, some of the author’s observations are liable to refutation. For example, he blames the continually changing educational market for the secularization of religious schools. Adding professional programs—business, engineering, nursing, social work, law, communication, environmental studies, and information science—to the curriculum “moves [Church-related] schools away from a liberal arts focus and thereby diminishes cohesion as academic communities” (22). Such programs make it difficult to maintain a tradition of religiously based education, “particularly when each of these professional endeavors brings to the school a fairly autonomous and secular understanding of its particular field” (22). Then, should Christian schools reconsider offering professional programs to maintain their “soul”? One can hardly agree with the author for three reasons. First, human knowledge itself is not evil. Second, all knowledge is interrelated. Third, the rapidly changing nature of society calls for acquisition of new knowledge in various fields. Christian schools in the new millennium are challenged to integrate faith and learning not only in liberal arts disciplines (which is relatively easy) but also in professional fields which are either hostile or indifferent to the Christian faith.
Another negative change the author identifies in the educational market is the consumerism to which Christian schools have allegedly succumbed. He notes, “Extensive research is done on what appeals to students. Is it the beauty of the campus, the friendliness of the students, the liveliness of the social life, the pleasantness of the dorms, the academic prestige of the faculty, or the presence of some preferred major?” (23). Although the author’s point—the main reason for coming to college is to develop a meaningful philosophy of life—is well taken, all the market-driven strategic efforts that he lists are not unimportant for students or parents who pay the bills for college education. There are over 3,000 colleges and universities in America to choose from, and Christian institutions—many of which are already struggling to attract students—should consider how to appeal to students as long as the appeals are ethically justifiable. “Consumer sovereignty” to education itself is not a deplorable concept because students, in a unique sense, are customers. Christian schools are morally responsible for delivering the best possible product to students, and the criteria for determining the quality of an educational product include not only Christian vision and ethos but also campus life, faculty, majors, and programs. Christian schools should maintain their Christian identity without ignoring market dynamics.
Finally, Benne seems to equate erroneously the secularization of Christian schools with the rise of diversity and multiculturalism. According to the author, “The current emphasis on ‘diversity’ and ‘tolerance’ is at least partially fueled by ideological multiculturalists of a distinctly postmodern sort. They want the hegemony of dominant groups of viewpoints broken down—deconstructed, as it were” (32-33). Characterizing the 1960s as the era of “traumas,” he observes that many Christian schools now “commit themselves to diversity, inclusiveness, multiculturalism, ecological concerns, and feminist causes as correctives to, or sometimes surrogates for, the classical Christian vision” (40, 41). In response, one might pose the following questions, among others: Are Christian ideals necessarily opposed to the ideals pursued by the proponents of diversity and multiculturalism? Is not ethnic and racial diversity (which is neither good nor bad) a fact of life in today’s society? Are all forms of feminism incompatible with the Christian faith? Considering the advancement made by ethnic and racial minorities and immigrants since the Civil Rights Movement, should not we consider the 1960s the era of growing pains rather than of “traumas”?
Despite these minor weaknesses, Quality with Soul is a must-read book for those who are involved in Christian higher education. Based on the author’s division of Christian schools into four groups, readers will be able to consider where their respective institutions stand and what steps should be taken to transform them into truly Christian (either orthodox or critical-mass) schools. Although the six schools covered by the author are rooted in different traditions, their visions and strategies should be applicable to any institution which desires to restore its Christian heritage.
John J. Han, Ph.D.
Associate Professor of English
Missouri Baptist University
© 2003 Missouri Baptist University. All rights reserved.