Archives For Lausanne

CapeTown2010

When 2,700 Christians from 150 countries gathered in Lausanne, Switzerland in 1974, it was, according to TIME, “a formidable forum, possibly the widest ranging meeting of Christians ever held.” As I wrote in Serving Justice vs. Saving Souls for RELEVANT late last year, that first Lausanne gathering represented a watershed moment for evangelicals, helping us move past the word-and-deed dychotomy that had no business existing in the first place.

A significant part of that initial gathering’s contribution was the Lausanne Covenant, which affirmed (in part): “Although reconciliation with other people is not reconciliation with God, nor is social action evangelism, nor is political liberation salvation, nevertheless we affirm that evangelism and socio-political involvement are both part of our Christian duty.”

In the nearly four decades that have passed since then – through two more full-fledged global congresses and a variety of smaller events – the Lausanne Movement has continued to convene Christians from around the world under the auspices of its audacious tagline: “The whole Church taking the whole Gospel to the whole World.”

ChristOurReconcilerFollowing Cape Town 2010, the third global Lausanne Congress, InterVarsity Press published Christ Our Reconciler: Gospel, Church, World, a wonderful collection of messages from the gathering’s main speakers.

The book is organized based on the themes of each of the six days of the gathering: Truth, Reconciliation, World Faiths, Priorities, Integrity, and Partnership. There are contributions by Christians from Africa, Asia, Europe, Latin America, North America, and the Middle East, drawing on the diversity represented by delegates from 198 countries around the world. It’s rare to find a book with such diverse contributors, yet all are united around their commitment to the gospel.

A particular highlight of the book for me was reading the testimonies of believers from North Korea, the Holy Land, Nigeria, South Africa, the UK, and Egypt. Being a Christian in any one of those places is a very different experience from being a Christian anywhere else, and each context certainly has its unique challenges, whether outright persecution, or violent conflict, or systemic injustice, or the apathy of an affluent society. For those of us immersed in North American evangelical sub-culture, we’d do well to be reminded that the latest controversial tweet from Mark Driscoll (and the obligatory ensuing blog response from Rachel Held Evans) isn’t necessarily the most important thing to be concerned about. These testimonies reminded me yet again that the church is so much bigger than any particular Christian tribe, and that we have much to learn from each other.

There were other highlights in the book as well. For instance, Ajith Fernando of Sri Lanka on embracing suffering in service; Chris Wright of the UK calling the church back to humility, integrity, and simplicity; Antoine Rutayisire of Rwanda on the gospel of reconciliation; and Ruth Padilla DeBorst of Argentina/Costa Rica calling us to pledge allegiance to the Lord of history, the only true Prince of Peace.

Read this book to be encouraged, to be challenged, and to be equipped to participate more fully in God’s global mission. We have much to learn from the saints who are serving the church in varying degrees of obscurity around the world, and this book is a great way to dip our respective toes in those deep, deep waters.

If this is your first introduction to the Lausanne Movement, I’d encourage you to spend some time studying the Covenant for yourself. You may also find the Cape Town Commitment, which includes a confession of faith and a call to action, to be helpful.

I received a free copy of this book from the publisher in exchange for my honest thoughts.

If you’ve been tracking with this series on the Lausanne Movement, you know that in the first three parts of the series, we took a look at three particularly groundbreaking presentations from the First Lausanne Congress in 1974 from René Padilla, Samuel Escobar, and Carl F.H. Henry, respectively. When I introduced the series in April, I quoted missiologist Al Tizon who argues these three presentations “laid the theological foundation for evangelicals to engage wholeheartedly in ministries of community development, justice for the poor, advocacy for the oppressed and the transformation of society, alongside ministries of evangelism, personal discipleship and church expansion.”

I want to add a fourth and final post to this series, adding a more recent layer that’s equally relevant to this blog’s focus on the intersections of faith, development, justice, and peace.

It comes from the Cape Town Commitment, the statement that came out of the Third Lausanne Congress in Cape Town, South Africa in October 2010. It was a collaborative effort, taking into consideration the perspectives and passions of the 4,200 participants at the Congress, and was drafted by Chris Wright, who heads up the Lausanne Theology Working Group and  directs Langham Partnership International.

The first part of the Cape Town Commitment, intended to lay the biblical foundation, is presented as a series of loves: We love because God first loved us; We love the living God; We love God the Father; We love God the Son; We love God the Holy Spirit; We love God’s Word; We love God’s world; We love the gospel of God; We love the people of God; and We love the mission of God. The second part of the Commitment is a call to action on the basis of those loves.

It’s a beautiful, remarkable document.

The section titled “We love God’s world” affirms a proper love of the world’s nations and cultures, with a particular emphasis on the poor and suffering, but also emphasizes the importance of creation care. Here’s an excerpt:

The earth is created, sustained and redeemed by Christ. We cannot claim to love God while abusing what belongs to Christ by right of creation, redemption and inheritance. We care for the earth and responsibly use its abundant resources, not according to the rationale of the secular world, but for the Lord’s sake. If Jesus is Lord of all the earth, we cannot separate our relationship to Christ from how we act in relation to the earth. For to proclaim the gospel that says ‘Jesus is Lord’ is to proclaim the gospel that includes the earth, since Christ’s Lordship is over all creation. Creation care is thus a gospel issue within the Lordship of Christ.

I’ve written before about how a concern for the poor and vulnerable must be connected to a concern for creation care, and in my story about a gold mine in Guatemala I reflected a bit on my theological understanding of stewardship in light of injustice and exploitation. Creation care cannot be reduced to an optional fad or the concern of a single political party.

I’d urge you to watch this talk Chris Wright recently gave at the Global Day of Prayer for Creation Care in Washington, DC. for a compelling theological basis for the importance of creation care, as well as its limits understood in light of scripture (delivered with a wonderful Irish accent).

[Photo credit: Muir Woods via MLeWallpapers.com]

After a one-week hiatus due to a big writing deadline and the publication of another big project, we’re back with the third part of our series on the Lausanne Movement and its lessons in regard to faith, development, justice and peace. In the first two installments, we learned from René Padilla and Samuel Escobar.

Now we turn to the late Carl F.H. Henry. In North American evangelical circles he’s kind of a big deal, having helped to found both the National Association of Evangelicals and Fuller Seminary, and served as the first editor of Christianity Today. From his bio at the Institute for the Study of American Evangelicals:

Henry desired to rescue conservative evangelicalism from the hands of fundamentalism, and in 1947 he published his controversial work, The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism, where he argued for evangelicals to develop a worldview which included social and political dimensions.

His presentation at Lausanne 74 was titled “Christian Personal and Social Ethics in Relation to Racism, Poverty, War and Other Problems.” His message, he says, is intended to move in two directions: first, to explore how contemporary understandings of personal and social ethics either hinder and further the proclamation of the gospel; and second, to look at the gospel’s ethical implications in the areas of sex, wealth, race and political power.

We live in a world that was created good but that has been corrupted by the fall. Our proper posture towards “civilization,” then,  is neither complete acceptance or complete rejection, but rather faithful discernment. As soon as someone starts urging evangelicals to care about social issues, though, there are sure to be objections that doing so will inevitably lead to ignoring, or at least minimizing, the importance of individual salvation and personal holiness. In this essay Henry clearly affirms the role of the individual within the larger role of the church:

Not only are individual believers, dispersed throughout many nations, to be inwardly conformed by the Spirit to the holy image of God’s obedient Son, but also the church as a community is to exemplify that public righteousness which God desires in society.

There are some who would wish to promote their understanding of public righteousness in society through the culture wars, led by the conviction that God is on their side and that the God-ordained ends justify any means, however unsavory, unethical or un-Christian. Perhaps worst of all, these culture warriors all too often fail to embody the biblical alternative, shalom — human flourishing and restored relationships in all directions. As Henry puts it,

It will not do to confront current [radical cultural] views… with anything less than the equally radical alternative of the biblical revelation of the will of God and its definition of the good life… From the very first the Christian message has emphasized the need of totally new selfhood, has called men to love of God and fellow man, and has stressed concern for public no less than for private righteousness.

The bulk of the essay consists of Henry’s understanding of what this means in specific matters of personal and social ethics. I’d encourage you to read what he has to say about each of those areas, but for our purposes here I’ll wrap this up with a paragraph I consider to be a truly compelling vision for the connection between evangelism and ethics in all of life:

In brief, Christian evangelism must do far more than speak only to the emotional vacuums in the lives of men; it must also help shape the intellectual mood of the day, deal with cultural idolatries and national priorities, confront the problems which erode a sense of human worth and dignity, cope with the moral paralysis that emboldens multitudes to shameless vices, uncover all the subtle and alluring masks that man wears in an age which believed itself at the gates of Paradise only to discover a desolation and a waste.

Does Henry’s essay challenge your understanding of evangelism and the mission of the church? If so, how? As those who believe Christ is making all things new, but who live today in the midst of so much desolation and waste, what might it look like to articulate and embody the good news of the kingdom?

[Photo credit: wheaton.edu]

Last week, in the first part of this series on the Lausanne Movement and what it has to teach us about faith, development, justice and peace, we took a look at René Padilla’s presentation. Now we turn to Peruvian theologian Samuel Escobar, whose theme is “Evangelization and Man’s Search for Freedom, Justice, and Fulfillment.”

Samuel Escobar begins his presentation by appealing to the decision made by the organizers of the gathering to choose as a motto the words of Jesus in the synagogue, found in Luke 4:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

He then urges his listeners to take these words seriously, which is to say, not to overly spiritualize the message. In a world with  millions suffering from literal poverty, captivity, blindness and oppression, these words aren’t just about spiritual poverty or captivity to sin. There are a lot of Christians in the world, Escobar says, who take these words seriously, and they find themselves in far flung corners of the world and near centers of power, following Christ accordingly. But many of them face strong pressure from other Christians, of all people, to change course:

Some of them have been criticized and told that they should abandon their efforts for the pursuit only of numerical growth of congregations. I hope they will not believe that such is the official position of the [Lausanne] Congress.

As we saw last week, Padilla also critiqued the pursuit of numerical growth as an end in itself, represented most clearly in the church growth movement that has given rise to many of the megachurches across the country and around the world. Escobar was warning against numerical growth at the expense of discipleship, creating a “consumer class” of Christians who were uninterested in the personal and social implications of submitting to the Lordship of Christ. He saw discipleship as essential, and he saw churches as the indispensable communities where discipleship happens:

I think that the first and powerful answer to the social and political needs of men, to the search for freedom, justice, and fulfillment, is given by Jesus in his own work and in the church… [In the church] Jesus creates a new people, a new community where these problems are dealt with under the Lordship of Christ.

What he was calling for may have cut across the grain of many at that time, but it was really nothing new for evangelicals. He pointed to John Wesley, the well-known evangelist who authored a book called Thoughts upon Slavery, calling for abolition long before it became reality, and long before it was a popular idea. For Wesley, evangelism and social issues like slavery belonged hand in hand:

In today’s language, we could say that for Wesley, development without social justice was unacceptable. I pray that God will raise in this Congress evangelists like Wesley, who also care about social evils enough as to do research and write about them and throw the weight of their moral and spiritual authority on the side of the correction of injustices. Wesley, however, did more than writing. He encouraged the political action that eventually was going to abolish slavery in England.

Shortly before he died, Wesley wrote to William Wilberforce, urging him to use his political position to push for the abolition of slavery, something Wilberforce eventually succeeded in doing, giving us a powerful example to follow. But while evangelicals have every reason to stand with the oppressed, we must remember that political liberation and the freedom offered in the gospel are two distinct things, Escobar says:

Simple liberation from human masters is not the freedom of which the Gospel speaks. Freedom in Christian terms means subjection to Jesus Christ as Lord, deliverance from bondage to sin and Satan… However, the heart which has been made free with the freedom of Christ cannot be indifferent to the human longings for deliverance from economic, political, or social oppression.

Escobar points also to a contemporary evangelical leader who recognized this connection: world-famous evangelist Billy Graham, who made it his policy to refuse to speak to segregated audiences. As you can imagine, this was quite an unpopular move with many in his “target market” at the time:

He did not downgrade the demands of the Gospel in order to have access to a greater number of hearers or in order to have the blessing of racists that would consider themselves ‘fundamental Christians.’ A stance like this is already communicating something about the nature of the Gospel that gives credibility to the Gospel itself when it is announced… To perpetuate segregation for the sake of numerical growth, arguing that segregated churches grow faster, is for me yielding to the sinfulness or society, refusing to show a new and unique way of life.

Escobar has a lot more to say than what I’ve mentioned here, and just like Padilla’s message, it’s all as timely as ever. He finishes on an eschatological high note:

We reaffirm our hope that the Kingdom may come soon in fullness. But as an evidence of that hope we should also reaffirm our willingness to be the community of disciples of Christ which tries to demonstrate in the context of development or underdevelopment, affluence or poverty, democracy or dictatorship, that there is a different way for men to live together dealing with passions, power, relations, inequality, and privilege; that we are not only able to proclaim that ‘the end is at hand’ but also to encourage one another in the search to make this world a bit less unjust and cruel, as an evidence of our expectation of a new creation.

I join Escobar in asking: Do we stand with the rich or with the poor? Do we usually stand with oppressors or with the oppressed? Where do we stand when we preach the gospel?

[Photo credit: keywordpicture.com - Escobar speaking at Urbana 03, which I attended, though it was before I realized what a rock star he is.]

Last week I introduced this new series on the Lausanne Movement and its contributions to a better understanding of the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace. As I mentioned in that post, I’m going to begin with a presentation from René Padilla titled “Evangelism and the World.” Padilla is originally from Ecuador, and along with Samuel Escobar (who we’ll turn to next week) he was a pioneer of what became known in Latin America  as “integral mission.” He was also a leader of the Latin American Theological Fellowship and has written a number of books including Mission Between the Times: Essays on the Kingdom.

Taking a look at the spectrum of Christian belief and practice at the time, Padilla saw two “extreme positions.” On the one hand, adherents of the social gospel in North America, and proponents of liberation theology throughout Latin America, understood salvation to be limited to the physical, political and social realm. Meanwhile, fundamentalists and evangelicals were reducing salvation to the future destiny of the soul. Both views of the gospel are incomplete, Padilla argued, saying that Christians must embrace “the whole Gospel for the whole man for the whole world.” He continued:

On the one hand, the Gospel cannot be reduced to social, economic and political categories, nor the church to an agency for human improvement… On the other hand, there is no biblical warrant to view the church as an other-worldly community dedicated to the salvation of souls, or to limit its mission to the preaching of man’s reconciliation to God through Jesus Christ.

In this presentation in 1974, I’m sure Padilla ruffled some feathers, though he believed that for the most part he had a sympathetic audience (he was, after all, speaking to a room full of people committed to the gospel and its global implications). Like Dietrich Bonhoeffer a generation or so before him, Padilla issued a devastating critique of superficial evangelism, what Bonhoeffer called “cheap grace.” Padilla argued that evangelism is about more than just getting people to believe a certain set of doctrines to ensure a future reward:

The aim of evangelization is… to lead man, not merely to a subjective experience of the future salvation of his soul, but to a radical reorientation of his life.

This radical reorientation of one’s life, he goes on to say, has unavoidable ethical and social implications. Padilla doesn’t deny the relationship between the gospel and personal holiness (and neither do I!), but knowing his audience, he was zeroing in on a huge blind spot. Evangelicals had all too often concentrated on “microethics” while tending to shy away from anything having to do with “macroethics.” People being shaped by the gospel ought to be concerned about both, he argued.

What’s more, he critiqued the pervasive problems of worldliness in the church, adapting the gospel to the “spirit of the times.” While evangelicals were quick to decry secularization, he said, they often failed to recognize the ways in which their understanding and practice of Christianity was shaped more by the prevailing culture than by the gospel. This isn’t a problem unique to North American Christians by any means, but given American Christianity’s influence around the world, confusing Jesus’s offer of abundant life with the American Dream presents a serious problem for Christians everywhere.

Recognizing our propensity to confuse the gospel with our culture’s understanding of “the good life” should lead us to a process of prayerful discernment, seeking to contextualize without becoming syncretistic, to use a couple of big missiological terms. When we fail to contextualize well, we either withdraw from the world we’re called to love, or we become no different from the world; both represent unfaithfulness to our Lord. In ethical and social terms,

When the church lets itself be squeezed into the mold of the world, it loses the capacity to see and, even more, to denounce, the social evils in its own situation… A Gospel that leaves untouched our life in the world — in relationship to the world of men as well as in relationship to the world of creation — is not the Christian Gospel, but culture Christianity, adjusted to the mood of the day. This kind of Gospel has no teeth.

By marching along in the world’s parade, favoring quantity to quality, and embracing technological efficiency in our churches and ministries without question, Padilla argued, we reduced the gospel to a “cheap product” and “turned the strategy for the evangelization of the world into a problem of technology.” Technology and efficiency have their place, he said, but “it is to this absolutization of efficiency, at the expense of the integrity of the Gospel, that I object.”

For those of us who would say we take the Bible seriously, we’d do well to examine our understanding of the gospel to see whether, in light of Scripture, these critiques have merit. What cultural values or norms have we absolutized at the expense of the integrity of the gospel? How have we adjusted the gospel to the mood of the day?

For those of us who are part of the church in the U.S., who can’t simply shake off our culture, we’d do well to ask how we can overcome the temptation to settle for cultural Christianity. At the same time, for those who are part of the church in Africa, Asia, Latin America, the Middle East and elsewhere, the challenge is to be proactive, to avoid creating your own culturally-modified, toothless Christianity.

The gospel is to be incarnated in culture wherever we are, affirming what is good, resisting what is evil, and discerning, through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, where that distinction lies. I’m grateful to René Padilla for helping us begin that process of discernment.

I shared this video last September, but here René Padilla and Samuel Escobar, as Latin American leaders, reflect on the Lausanne Movement’s accomplishments and shortcomings. Next week I’ll take a look at Escobar’s presentation at Lausanne in 1974.

[Photo credit: Latin America Mission]