Is Diversity a Christian Virtue?

It is no surprise that many Western Christians have hopped onto the ‘diversity train’; it is yet another example of Christians being shaped by culture rather than shaping culture.  The morality of tolerance of Postmodernity has morphed into the morality of diversity, multiculturalism, and inclusion in Western Tribalism.

The meaning of the terms ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusion’, of course, goes further for the culture than it does for culture-laden, Western Christians.  The culture enshrines the diversity of non-binary identity, homosexuality, and transgenderism.  It celebrates the inclusion of non-Christian religions if they undermine Christianity, and then it celebrates secularism over against any religion.  Intersectionality crowns individuals with the greatest number of minority identities.  Western woke culture opposes borders, loathes its own history, assumes that the ‘other’ is better, and it believes that any love of one’s own way of life is some sort of fascist nationalism.  It pursues multiculturalism so that it can be ever more inclusive; anything else is quickly labelled ‘racist’.

In such a cultural climate, Western Christians inevitably come under pressure to virtue signal their own support for the new morality of diversity and inclusion.  This decidedly post-Christian ethic gets some initial support when it is linked to traditional Christian values.  Christian mission has sought to take the Gospel to all nations.  It has celebrated the inclusion of all people in Christ.  Christianity says the division between people is overcome by Christ our peace (Ephesians 2.14), is not racist, and does not disvalue women (despite some unfortunate examples to the contrary in its history). 

Yet some Liberal Christians have sought to enculturate the Gospel along this tribalist trajectory of diversity and inclusion.  Traditional Christian evangelism is undermined because, they believe,  insisting that Christ is the only way to the Father (John 14.6) is totalizing, oppressive, and unappreciative of others.  Christian belief that Christ will come again to judge the living and the dead (as we have said in the Nicene Creed through the centuries) sounds, well, judgemental and not inclusive.

Other Western Christians who are more orthodox than such Liberals in their theology have also come under the influence of cultural diversity and inclusion.  They have, like the culture, insisted on an ‘equality of outcomes’ rather than opportunity.  This means advancing people in institutions on the basis of their contribution to diversity rather than giving all an equal opportunity to advancement based on their abilities.  Diversity has, in this way, become a virtue rather than a condition.

While the analysis of the Church and culture along these lines could be pursued further, the main point to consider here is that Scripture has been commandeered to support what is, in fact, a culturally engineered theology of diversity and inclusion.  Three passages are often brought into the spotlight: Galatians 3.28; Colossians 3.11; and Revelation 7.9-10.

Galatians 3:28: There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

Colossians 3:11: Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.

Revelation 7:9-10: After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

Do these passages support—even celebrate—diversity and inclusion?  The first two texts certainly do not in the sense considered above.  They state that ‘inclusion’ is in Christ, and, therefore, celebrate unity, not diversity.  They are phrased in the negative: neither … nor, not….  Had Paul wanted to celebrate diversity in the Church, he would have instead said, ‘In Christ Jesus there are both Jew and Gentile, both slave and free, and both male and female.’  Had he said so, he would have legitimated the diverse identities.  Note that such a statement would have meant that slavery would have been valued for contributing to diversity.  But this is not at all what Paul is saying.  In affirming unity in Christ, Paul relativizes ethnic, social, and gender diversity.

The third passage, from Revelation 7, has a similar intention.  Christian monotheism means evangelical universalism: One God means One Gospel for all.  The passage does not call for religious pluralism.  Quite the contrary; it insists that salvation belongs to our God and to the Lamb, Jesus Christ.  There is no other way of salvation.  As Richard Bauckham has argued, Revelation teaches that the victory of the Lamb is worldwide.  The author makes this point in several ways.  The word ‘Lamb’ occurs 28 times, that is, 7 (a number of completeness) times 4 (a number for the four corners of the earth).  The fourfold formula for the earth’s nations—every people, tribe, language, and nation—occurs seven times ((5.9; 7.9; 10.11; 11.9; 13.7; 14.6; 17.15).[1]  The focus of Revelation is on the unity the world finds in the worldwide victory of the Lamb.

The Lamb’s victory could not be more contrary to Western culture in its present, post-Christian phase.  As with the passages from Paul, the purpose of mentioning all nations, tribes, peoples, and languages is to depict the unity that the world’s diversity finds in the one Lamb.  (I have elsewhere argued that this passage depicts the undoing of the diversity of Babel in Genesis 11.)[2]  This passage, however, is the proof-text of those who want to advance the multicultural Church.  This ecclesiastical multiculturalism is put forward by its proponents to highlight the ethnic diversity of the Church rather than the unity of ethnic groups because of their common worship of God for His salvation through the blood of the Lamb.  We—the diverse peoples of the earth—celebrate God for the salvation He brings to all, not our diversity.

The Church is, of course, made up of great diversity.  It is inclusive of ethnic groups, social groups, and both genders.  This is not, however, itself a virtue.  It would be a vice if some tried to limit the Church and exclude certain peoples on such grounds.  But this diversity is more a condition of the Church, and it is a condition of the Church because the unity of the Church is a virtue.  This unity is found in the confession of unity:

Ephesians 4:4-6: There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call—one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

Whereas Western culture wants to celebrate diversities of every sort (except, perhaps, white males and persons who do not celebrate the new, sexual ethic), the Church celebrates unity in Christ.  Practically, this makes a significant difference.  We value what brings glory to God, not to us in our multiculturalism.  We relativise our differences because of all being in Christ rather than celebrate our differences, thereby stealing the focus from Christ for ourselves.  We do not absolutise things that are indifferent.  We do not promote people in the Church to ministerial positions because we seek an equality in outcomes.  Rather, we value the diversity of gifts, services, and activities in the one Church provided by the Triune God:

1 Corinthians 12:4-6: Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone.

Is diversity a Christian virtue?  It is a condition of the universal Church.  The Christian virtue is rather found in the Church’s unity in One God.

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[1] Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (New Testament Theology; Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1993), pp. 66-67.

[2] Rollin G. Grams, ‘The Rise of Identity Ecclesiology,’ blog (10 May, 2019); online at: https://bibleandmission.blogspot.com/2019/05/the-rise-of-identity-ecclesiology.html.

What is the Goal of Missions?

Two goals in missions are often affirmed as non-negotiable.  They sound contradictory and can even work against each other.  But they are, nevertheless, both wrong in their own right.  The first goal is: nationalise (or indigenise) the mission.  The second goal is: pursue multicultural identity.

The first goal arises out of mission dynamics in the post-colonial era—we might say starting in the 1960s and picking up steam in the  1970s.  In mainline circles, it was strongly supported as a corollary to decolonisation, liberation, and antipatriarchalism.  In other mission circles, it received milder support out of concern to strengthen the local church.  It became popular for missionaries to say that they intended to ‘work ourselves out of the job.’  Even Paul could be called forward as a witness: did he not say that his goal was to preach the Gospel where Christ had not been named before (Rom. 15.20)?  Other reasons might be listed, some from the perspective of the nationals.  Do nationals not know the culture and language better?  Are they not less expensive than a foreign missionary?  Are they not committed life-long to life and ministry in that context?

There is a qualification to this mission goal that would not undermine it but that should be noted.  It might even be stated as a sort of additional goal: partnerships in mission are valued.  The language of ‘partnership’ allows nationals to receive funding and some additional help, but it keeps foreign missionaries from becoming too involved.  It allows nationals to indiginise their churches, including, most importantly, the institutional authority.  While there are other reasons for the trend of ‘short-term’ missions (not meaning 1 or 2 years but the two-week mission trip from a church in the West), this is one reason for the rise in the 1980s of this popular approach to missions.

Let’s deconstruct this goal of nationalising the mission.  We might go back to Paul.  First, he did not mean that all missionaries should have as their goal to preach where Christ has not been named.  Not all missions is frontier work, as important as that is.  After all, Paul positively recognised those who came after his ‘planting’ to ‘water’ in God’s field (1 Cor. 3.6).  Moreover, Paul himself returned to churches that he had planted on subsequent mission trips.  Also, members of his mission team might be sent to previously established churches.  It seems that Paul was interested in building a network of relationships in various ways as churches related to one another, contributed to one another (with visiting ministers and funds, depending on the needs), connected with the Jerusalem Church, and connected with his ‘Gentile mission’.  Also, when Paul thought of mission activity, he did not think in terms of nationalising but in terms of gifting.  He understood the ligaments of the body of Christ as apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers (Eph. 4.11).  Gifts, not nationalities or even local knowledge, were the primary consideration.

That is where I think we ought to put the emphasis: gifting.  God gives gifts in the form of persons with certain ministries ‘to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ’ (Eph. 4.12).  This gifting is not just at the local church level—as in Rom. 12 and, to some extent, 1 Cor. 12.  (But more than the local church seems to be in view in the list of gifts in 1 Cor. 12.27-30, as in Ephesians 4.11.)  It spills over to enrich the whole Church.  
If the Church focuses on having national identity, it will inevitably prioritise ethnicity or nationalism over the gifts of ministers in the Church and over the unity of the Church.  This does not invalidate some of the concerns noted above, but it should relativise the arguments.  When Paul raised money for the Jerusalem Church—for whatever reason (scholars have offered several suggestions)—he chose representatives from different churches to accompany him with the funds.  Here was a reason to pay attention to location and nationality: nobody from one church could accuse others of misusing the funds, and having representatives from other churches showed the solidarity of the Gentile mission and of these churches with the (Jewish) Jerusalem church.  There are occasions when this kind of focus is necessary, but not as a general policy in missions.

The second goal noted at the beginning can be questioned along the same lines.  If nationalising was a goal that arose at the end of the Modern era, in a post-colonial context, multicultural identity is a goal that has arisen in a postmodern era.  Modernity valued freedom and equality, and these values reached their peek in post-colonial times.  Postmodernity values diversity and inclusiveness, and these values get expressed together in ‘multiculturalism’.  This was Tony Blair’s government’s gospel for its immigration policy.  It was the impetus for Britain’s involvement in the European Union.  It was the grounds for international policies of various Western governments, positive attitudes toward non-Western religions, and, of course, the non-binary sexual revolution.  The point is that the culture now had new headwinds, and Christian missionary goals could get caught up in them as well.

One trend, therefore, has been to celebrate the multicultural church.  Of course, this view tends to favour the urban, mega-church—which raises enough concern of its own.[1]  The theological downside of multiculturalism has shown itself in ecumenism and indigenous theologies that disvalue orthodoxy.  Local churches still operating with a 19^th century concept of missions also value the ethnic focus of international missions.  They want a collection of missionaries dressed up in local costume, waving foreign flags, speaking another language, and chatting about different foods and customs.

What is the problem with all of this?  Once again, ethnicity is the issue instead of the mission.  The focus in missions needs to be the mission.  Yes, the mission goes to the nations, but the mission is to proclaim the Gospel.  Churches that get excited about sending someone overseas are not necessarily engaged in missions.  Average, untrained Christians who can raise enough money (often from some mega-church) go overseas and come back with stories about some other culture.  They might actually do some ministry.  They might get involved in some project of value—digging a well, building a school, etc.  We could, actually, label anything that they do as ‘missional’ because, on this model for missions, the main thing is to engage in cross-cultural living, with a little ministry on the side.

What if, alternatively, we had a clearer definition of the mission?  What if it was so clearly defined around the proclamation of the Gospel that it involved evangelism, translating and teaching the Scriptures, and church planting?  And what if this focus of the mission took missionaries to such needy places as Boston or Birmingham?  Of course, many do ‘get it’ these days: they know that there is a need for mission in places that are not necessarily cross-cultural and where the Gospel may have once been known but is not anymore.  In fact, the Church once thrived in places like Turkey, Syria, and Egypt.  It once thrived in Boston and Burmingham.  The Gospel was once believed in the Church of England and the Episcopal Church.  In these contexts, ground-breaking mission work is needed once again.  When our focus is on the mission of proclaiming the Gospel, such places and denominations as these become our mission field.

This is not to suggest that Western missionaries should not still go overseas in missions any more than that they ought to work themselves out of a job overseas; it is to say that ministry is a matter of gifting and calling to where the mission needs us.  It is not to say that Christians do not value the multi-ethnic make-up of the Church; it is to say that communal unity is an outcome, not a goal in itself, of devotion to one God (Rom. 3.28-30; 15.5-9).  (One of the greatest misreadings of Scripture in our day is to read passages like John 17 as though it is affirming communal fellowship and unity rather than unity of faith through unity with Christ).[2]

If we prioritise the mission, we will not have ‘mission creep’, chase whatever sounds good as long as it is overseas, highlight cross-cultural experiences as missions, or drop the mission simply because we want to nationalise.  We need to train missionaries for that mission, no matter which country they come from.  The goal of missions is the mission!

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[1] See my criticism of the multicultural church as a goal in itself: ‘The Rise of Identity Ecclesiology’ (May 10, 2019); online at https://bibleandmission.blogspot.com/2019/05/the-rise-of-identity-ecclesiology.html.

[2] See Rollin Grams, ‘Stay or Leave? Is John 17 Grounds for Staying in Mainline Denominations in Our Day?’; online at: https://bibleandmission.blogspot.com/2019/09/stay-or-leave-is-john-17-grounds-for.html.

A Process of Punishment vs. A Process of Forgiveness

One of the great developments in our post-Christian, Western culture is the absence of forgiveness.  Instead of a process of forgiveness we are left with a process of punishment.  The two religions in the world that have put forgiveness at their centre are Judaism[1] and Christianity; what we have replacing them in the West are an unforgiving, postmodern tribalism and, especially in Europe, a growing Islam.

At the centre of the Jewish religion in Biblical times was the tabernacle or Temple.  The activity of the Temple was worship and sacrifice.  Worship was given to the one God who identified Himself—in the very midst of His people’s rebellion and sin—as the God who is ‘merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation’ (Exodus 34.6-7).

Before the heavy hand of justice falls on the children’s sins, God is steadfast in love, forgiving transgression and sin.  Even more profoundly, this God is able to bring justice through His love and forgiveness.  This God is worshipped through obedience and praise, not moral choice and self-justification.  One can only have forgiveness if there is right and wrong, and one can only have righteous judgement if there is justice.  Otherwise, there is only heartless condemnation according to self-made standards that shift with the wind.

The daily sacrifices at the Temple highlighted forgiveness in God’s presence.  The whole burnt offering, the sin offering, the guilt offering, and the peace offering required blood from the sacrificial animal to be placed on the altar.  There was a process of forgiveness.  It included the willingness of the worshiper, his acknowledgement of his need for forgiveness, his contrition, his acceptance that his wrongdoing was also sin against God, his penance, and his request, through his sacrificial offering to bear away his sin, that God would forgive him and be reconciled to him. This ritual process of forgiveness set things right: God has commandments for how we, His creatures, should live; He will forgive us when we come to Him in repentance and seek forgiveness.

Christianity affirms all this, adding only that there is no need for ongoing sacrifices.  We acknowledge that Jesus Christ ‘suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit’ (1 Peter 3.18).  Our faith is the faith of forgiveness—without, as Exodus 34 and the cross of Jesus remind us—ignoring or denying the reality of sin.  At the centre of Christian community is no longer the tabernacle or Temple but the cross of our Saviour who died to take away our sins.  And we are called to forgive as we have been forgiven.  As Paul says, ‘Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you’ (Ephesians 4.32).

The rejection of Christianity in Western society is also turning out to be a rejection of a process of forgiveness.  This was, at first, a surprising twist, since postmodern culture at first sought to include the marginalized and celebrate diversity.  This seemed to have some overlap with forgiveness, since there is a welcoming and inclusiveness to both.  Yet postmodernity at first denied any objective truth and therefore any need to be forgiven, and then it constructed a political correctness in Truth’s place that, like Sauron’s eye in J. R. R. Tolkien’s writings, probes the land for any who have not submitted in order to crush them.

We are left with only a process of punishment.  Franz Kafka saw this coming early in the twentieth century with amazing foresight.  In The Trial, written in 1914 or 1915 and published in 1925, a man, Joseph K., is arrested for an unknown crime.  Some inaccessible authority prosecutes him, convicts him, and has him executed by an apparatus.  The original name of the book better reveals the point of the story: Der Process.  Justice that lacks personal and human elements will become a cold, hard process.  Such a process is, in the language of electronic, social networking in our computer age, a mere algorithm before which there can be no contrition, no repentance, and no forgiveness.  There are only accusations and punishments.

A Western, post-Christian culture is today filled with stories of Der Process.  People are accused of sexual impropriety twenty or forty years later by single witnesses or even by a person who heard someone else claiming to have witnessed something.  There is no process of justice to determine the credibility of the complaint if the complaint fits a narrative, a politically correct narrative, that the public wishes to believe is true.  Accusers are shielded as victims from the accused; their accusations are brave and applauded while the accused is defamed, shamed, and tried in the court of public opinion.  Justice is served merely by accusing someone of some politically incorrect act, sexual impropriety, racial slur, or association (or collusion) with the wrong person or group.  One is condemned for refusing to go against one’s conscience rather than support the morality of the masses.  What fits the narrative must, it is believed, be true not because the person committed the act but because the social narrative is advanced by the accusation.

In such a society, not only is there no justice, there is also no forgiveness.  There is only the process of punishment, the apparatus.  People must be ‘outed’ for their past, alleged crimes against the politically correct narrative, not forgiven.  They are escorted from the public square with no opportunity to deny the charges, let alone admit them and ask for forgiveness.  There is no mercy, no grace.  Shrill voices ring out over loudspeakers with condemnation, with hate toward those accused of hate, finding cathartic relief through imagining violence against others.  The apparatus to bring punishment with neither justice nor mercy whirs into action.

We are well into Georg Orwell’s 1984, depicting, at the time of its publication in 1949, a future society in which bureaucrats would process politically incorrect crimes.  A godless society will make up its own sins, sins against the not-under-God State.  Its absoluteness cannot be questioned, and its impersonality has only a process without forgiveness.  Justice cannot be depicted as a blindfolded woman; it is better represented now as an awkwardly built, efficient machine erected by a Jacobin mob.  Instead of a tabernacle with sacrifices for repentance and forgiveness at its centre, today’s society has a Coliseum where crowds cry out for the blood of the accused strapped to the Apparatus.  Justice no longer has any place for forgiveness.  In a Godless age, it has been distorted into Der Process of punishment for socially constructed, politically incorrect crimes.

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[1] Cf. the powerful message by Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, ‘An Unforgiving Age’; available online at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MaU0kfkK-k&feature=em-uploademail (accessed 3 October, 2019).