Christian Higher Education in the Age of Plagued Western Conscience
How We Think, How Paul Thought, and How We Can Think Again
It is always fascinating to me when a religious piece from a past generation casts such a powerful lesson on a later population…
In 1963, Krister Stendahl of Harvard Divinity School wrote an essay first published in the Harvard Theological Review titled The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West. In this classic piece, Stendahl argues that we often misunderstand the Apostle Paul’s actual claims by bringing our own assumptions into our reading of his various epistles. We read Paul’s letter as if he first wrote to us, in our time, with our troubles in mind. Consider one of the highlights of Stendahl’s essay:
[it is] a fact well known in history… that sayings which originally meant one thing later on were interpreted to mean something else, something which was felt to be more relevant to human conditions of later times… We should venture to guess that the West for centuries has wrongly surmised that the biblical writers were grappling with problems which no doubt are ours, but which never entered their consciousness.
This is important because our churches and Christian institutions are filled with spiritually immature, anxious individuals who (without realizing it) have caused the leaders of these various entities to set a much lower bar for what they aim to accomplish across their various gatherings and assemblies. In case after case - and despite all of their excess, comfort and ease of life — people simply want reassurance that they are and will be okay.
How is this possible?
The great Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard once wrote “anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.”
And perhaps here is where we put two and two together. Our schools and churches are preaching reassurance to droves of unsettled, unengaged assemblies — who are free to do virtually whatever they want — by means of deconstructing and reassembling the Pauline epistles. People who bear virtually no resemblance to a first or second century disciple are ingesting promises made to the latter and are predictably left wanting.
This leaves our culture with two options. We can either move on to the next message that promises to function as a type of pseudo-spiritual therapy, or we can seek to understand when Paul wrote his letters and why he wrote what he wrote. Certainly the latter is a much better approach for our culture and our time!
Perhaps it is best to begin with contrasting Paul’s time to our own. Living in the first century Roman Empire offered a much harder and less certain existence than we in the West could possibly fathom, especially in regard to general infrastructure, education, and creature comforts such as electricity, central air, hot water, and refrigeration. From the religious angle of the portrait, one is introduced to a time period where Christianity was a new movement, only a few decades old. It was flanked by Judaism and the Roman Imperial Cult, neither of which were particularly welcoming of the newcomer. Finally, the burgeoning Christian faith was led not by vocational celebrity Pastors running 501c3’s, hosting podcasts and pursuing book deals but by Apostles, like Paul, who had seen the risen Lord! The differences are stark.
And so, into such a foreign world we must enter in order to capture the ethos and power of Paul’s words. For the purpose of this analysis, we will use Paul’s letter to the Philippians; Paul’s Epistle of Joy. What did Paul have to be so happy about as he is prompted to write this letter alongside his understudy Timothy? Well, for one, Paul was currently imprisoned. As well, Paul has learned that there are many who are preaching the Gospel with ulterior motive — even to cause Paul distress. Nevertheless, what is Paul’s one-word command to the Philippian church at the onset of chapter 3?
Rejoice!
What does Paul have to rejoice about? Fortunately, for the reader he documents the source of his own joy extensively:
In verse 8, Paul meditates on the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. Paul continues by mentioning how he is suffering the loss of all things…so that I may gain Christ.
In verse 9, Paul writes of being found in Him (Jesus).
In verse 10, Paul lists that it is his goal to know the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death.
In verse 12, Paul has been taken hold of by Christ Jesus.
In verses 13–14, Paul illustrates his life as one in which he is forgetting what is behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus.
As Paul concludes the third chapter he encourages the Philippians in the following manner:
Verse 15 — all who are mature should think this way.
Verse 17 — Join in imitating me.
And so, we return to our own context — one of personal liberties, material excess, vast mediums for quick communication, better and more vast access to education, etc. And we are possessors of great spiritual angst.
We certainly did not receive such angst from the Apostle Paul, who was imprisoned for preaching the Gospel and yet encouraged his churches to do the same… expecting they will find peace, power and meaning in their endeavors!
Our lives look nothing like first or second century disciples, thus our problems would certainly be foreign to them.
Would Paul recognize or understand the struggles of the 21st century Christian? I don’t believe he would! Why?
Because, Paul was fixated on Jesus.
Paul was enamored with the power of Christ.
Paul’s entire life was defined by the life of Christ.
Perhaps, I will now be so bold as to speculate… Paul would know nothing of what Kierkegaard once noticed: anxiety — the dizziness of freedom.
Rather Paul wrote things like I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me. (Galatians 2:20)
Paul does not simply affirm the great promises of Jesus. Paul embodied them. And this ethos extends beyond the Apostolic period and into the 2nd century.
Consider the prolific ministry of Justin Martyr, who wrote appeals to the Roman Emperor on two separate occasions. It is ironic that both of Justin Martyr’s Apologies delivered to Caesar are not self-deprecating musings written by a people riddled with spiritual angst, but rather are bold declarations of blamelessness in a time of hostility and persecution against the Christian faith. Consider some of the words of Justin Martyr from his 1st Apology:
“You can kill us, but you cannot hurt us.”
“It is our task, therefore, to afford to all an opportunity of inspecting our life and teachings…”
Justin Martyr actually invites the Roman Emperor to take note of the Christian Life… to observe what they believe, and the kind of life that emerges from such belief. Justin Martyr insisted that Rome would actually benefit from welcoming and receiving Christians and their counter-cultural existence. There is no room in his Apologies for making 2nd century Christians feel better about themselves or the angst brought on by a wealthy, privileged, spiritual slothful life. A 2nd century Christian would not know of such a life.
Augustine of Hippo, argues Stendahl, might have been where this shift toward individual introspection begins. As recorded in his confessions, Augustine lived a life of hedonism and debauchery prior to his conversion.
This emphasis on introspection, however, certainly crescendos during the time of the Protestant Reformation and the teaching of Martin Luther.
Why would Martin Luther’s teaching need to address the issues of spiritual doubts and eternal security? The climate of the Medieval Church that gave way to the Protestant Reformation was one marked by the issues of paid indulgences and acts of contrition.
The Medieval church weaponized eternal security and hope for salvation,utilizing it in order to raise funds and assert power over scores of individuals. It is alarming to imagine a Christian world after the resurrection of Jesus Christ where guilt payments were normalized in hopes for absolution of oneself and love ones. Thankfully, the efforts of the Reformers were instrumental in returning the Christian to the authority of God’s word for instruction and assurance. Inevitably, however, Christians brought with them the scar tissue of the Church’s past misdeeds… a spiritual anxiety we are still witnessing today.
It is tragic to recognize that much of the damage we are aiming to undo was afflicted in an era when widespread cultural adoption of the Christian faith was the norm. Christianity was the dominant cultural expression, and during that time spiritual angst climbed.
If this correlation between cultural acceptance and spiritual anxiety is legitimate, then perhaps it is actually good news that we arrive in a 21st century setting where culture is becoming increasingly hostile to Christian faith. With such hostility, perhaps Christians will return to the type of spiritual fortitude seen in the works of the Apostle Paul and Justin Martyr.
So then, how can Christian Higher Education approach this shifting cultural landscape and perhaps shepherd Christians back into more of a Pauline spiritual mindset?
In the book Liberal Arts for the Christian Life, Jeffrey P. Greenman calls Christians to begin the process of “thinking in a Christ-centered way about every area of life… an undertaking that is far more demanding than simply adorning fundamentally secular thinking with a decorative Bible verses.”
Christian education cannot succumb to curating the outward facades of Christian students while doing nothing for how they think about things.
Rather, we must take great interest in assisting students in how they think about everything, while helping bring their thoughts — as well as our own — into conformity with Christ.
In his book The Bible Among the Myths John Oswalt writes: “The fact that the entire bible as it now stands is written from the perspective of the transcendent God breaking into human history and revealing himself through unique events and persons cannot be gainsaid.”
The manner in which God has mightily invaded this world to the extent that Jesus and the ministry of the Holy Spirit has cannot be reduced to gatherings of self-help decorated with biblical language. We are equipped with so much more, and we must believe those under our care are willing to follow.
Our students and members will value what we value, will celebrate what we celebrate, and will fixate upon that which we fixate. We exist to share how Christ has and is captivating us with His reality.
Our people do not need a new form of doled-out assurances. What people need is what Paul was reflecting on in Philippians 3; to be found in — and captivated by — Jesus Christ.
If we believe we exist for nothing more than to comfort another generation of nominal Christianity, we are nothing more than spiritual hospice workers.
Fortunately, we have much greater work than this before us and ahead of us.
May we all enter into it!