What Is the Greatest Threat to the Church?
It would be interesting to see the results of a “person on the street” poll of self-identified evangelical Christians on the question, “What is the most significant threat to the church?”
I have a sneaking suspicion that the results would be much more indicative of the sources of media is most popular among the surveyed population than a real threat. Is the biggest threat CRT (are we even talking about that anymore?), “wokeism” (whatever that is), the effects of the sexual revolution, corporate greed and capitalism, political and social persecution of Christians, sexual abuse?
Some of these are, of course, significant issues in some churches. We need not deny the distorting influence these issues can have on the life of the church, which will interfere with the faithful proclamation of the gospel.
And yet, I don’t think any of these things rise to the level of being “the most significant threat.”
Christ Protects His Church
In the first place, a lot of the hand-wringing over the well-being of the church neglects Jesus’ promise, spoken to the disciples and in particular to Peter: “I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matt. 16:18)
We need not fear, therefore, that a new fad is going to wipe Christianity off the face of the earth. Christ has literally promised that he will sustain it.
Unless, of course, our idea is that we humans have a spiritual power that is superior to the supernatural power referred to as “the gates of hell.” I’m skeptical about that.
We might sometimes feel like we are among the very few who have not caved in on some social issue or other. However, I think we can—at least to some degree—generalize God’s promise to Elisha that he “will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.” (1 Kings 19:18)
The church is not exactly Israel, but there are analogies—we are certainly God’s people, grafted in through the gospel. (Rom. 11:17–24) God will preserve his truth.
Most of the time when people are lamenting the total corruption of the church, they have a very myopic focus on the US and have been reading too many discernment blogs or watching too much cable news.
We need have no fear. The gospel is on the move. Christ will build his church.
Greatest Danger
Though we need not fear the total corruption of the church, there is a risk that corruption will allow the gospel to recede in some populations, even in populations that describe themselves as Christian. Jesus warned the church in Ephesus that he would “remove your lampstand from its place, unless you repent.” (Rev 2:5)
Purity and focus of the church matter. We can do damage to our own collective spiritual health and gospel effectiveness if we abandon our first love. (Rev. 2:4)
In his book, Dynamics of the Spiritual Life, Richard Lovelace repeatedly emphasizes the need for Americans in particular to consider how much of the trappings of our success-oriented culture we allow to go uncritiqued in our local churches.
He writes,
[T]he broad mass of the laity in American churches continue to be exhaustingly absorbed in the rat race of business life . . . . One cannot help but wonder what the result would be if this mass of lay people could be spiritually released from their servitude in the American success system and reoriented to channel their major energies toward building the kingdom of God. (151)
In the US, with its focus on wealth and material well-being, this is a significant form of enculturation. It is certainly not the only possible means of enculturation, but it can be the sort of compromise with the culture that is accepted within the church.
Make no mistake, whether it is acceptance of the fruit of the sexual revolution, denial of miracles, or obsession with material success, this sort of adoption of our culture’s priorities is a sign of spiritual decline.
We tend to think of this sort of worldliness as being the cause of spiritual decline, however Richard Lovelace argues that worldliness is a symptom of spiritual decline:
“One of the first effects of spiritual decline among the people of God is destructive enculturation, saturation with the godless culture of the surrounding world as we saw in Judges 2:11–13. When men’s hearts are not full of God, they become full of the world around like a sponge full of clear water that has been squeezed empty and thrown into a mud puddle.” (184)
The greatest danger, in my view, is that we will allow our focus to drift toward material goods and well-being so that we can no longer be filled by Christ’s goodness. This is harmful enculturation. The gospel vitality of our churches is dependent upon our non-conformity to the patterns of the world. (Rom. 12:2)
A Proper Response
It would be worth considering in a different essay, but so many forms of destructive enculturation have their roots in a desire for material wealth. As Paul warns Timothy, “those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction.” (1 Tim 6:9)
When Christians cave into the pressure of the sexual revolution, abandon supernaturalism, or adopt a laser focus on wealth, family and career, they are usually trying to build themselves a more comfortable life.
After all, affirming biblical sexual morality, miracles, and limits on natural goods can lose us job opportunities, friends, and income. For many Christians (not all) the steps toward cultural compromise begin with a desire for material comfort.
If materialism and conformity to the success system of our culture is a form of destructive enculturation, then is some sort of denial of the material world (asceticism) the proper response?
No. True asceticism is simply the equal and opposite error. In fact, that is the danger of asking these sorts of questions, because the natural human response to “X is bad” is to assume that the opposite of “X” is therefore good. Most of the time that isn’t true. They are both perversions of something good.
It is good to be a wise steward of vocation, money, and culture. It is not good to treat those things as ultimate so that we pursue them or reject them absolutely. The material world is a blessing, and it is not our primary concern.
Paul reminds us, “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Eph 6:12)
The proper response, as Lovelace indicates is to become sponges filled with the goodness of Christ so that we cannot absorb the muddy water. He writes, “Only the fullness of Christ’s life and the transformation by the renewing action of the Holy Spirit illuminating the whole counsel of God can effectively prevent conformity to the world (Rom. 12:2).” (184)
As we consider what the greatest danger to the church is, I would suggest that we as individuals and as communities of faith, ought to begin with that paradigm before we worry overly about the amount of mud in the puddle.
Reading your Bible is a battle. There’s a reason why Paul lists Scripture as the sword of the Spirit in his discussion of the armor of God (Eph. 6:17). More even than that, Scripture reveals God’s character and is, thus, central to worshiping well (Psalm 119). That’s why reading the Bible is a battle.