In a recent discussion with some men I made mention of the problem that I call “clogged filters.” Like a car going down the highway, the air available is the air the car is driving in, and so the air filter needs to be replaced from time to time. The environment we live in is what runs through our filters, and that environment includes political matters, food questions, movie issues, music problems, and neck tie width issues. The problem is that most Christians today put all cultural issues into the adiaphora category without much thought, like everything was a neck tie width issue. And the more they do that, the easier it gets to do that. And no, not because they are becoming wise, but because their filters get clogged.
A few years ago, I preached a series of sermons called A Worldview Wheel, and that would be the place to start for those who want help on keeping their filters clean. A worldview is not just thoughts in your head, even if they are orthodox thoughts. A worldview consists of four major components — catechesis, narrative, symbols, and lifestyle. Catechesis concerns how you answer the questions. Christian, what do you believe? Narrative raises and answers the question, “Who are your people, and how did you get here?” Symbols are the unspoken ways that we communicate who we are, and what our allegiances are — baptism, cross necklaces, liturgies in worship, and so on. Lifestyle has to do with the day-to-day stuff — eating habits, clothing, sexual mores, etc. The first two elements of a worldview are propositional, and the last two are not. For more on all this, you can get the set of six sermons from Canon Press here.
Every distinct group in the history of the world has been distinct by virtue of creating and maintaining a distinctive take on all four of these. Conservative evangelicals have been no different in this respect, but because they have not worked through the ramifications of their
(full-orbed) worldview, they have been ill-equipped in answering the taunts of outsiders about it. As soon as conservatives move from teaching and doctrine over to lifestyle, they are immediately accused of “legalism.” Thus the secularists have managed to maintain the enviable position of telling conservative Christians that their principal problem is that their faith is not relevant and applicable, and insisting at the same time that Christians had better not try to apply it.
Keeping the filters clear has to be done, therefore, in all four areas. Go to a Bible-believing, Bible-teaching church (catechesis). Participate fully in the worship of that church (symbol/liturgy). Make sure it is actually liturgy and not liturgay. Live a holy life, in honesty and integrity (lifestyle). Read church histories that explain the map, and that have an x on that map that says, “You are here.” Read biographies of men and women who have been given by God as heroes to your people (narrative).
And here is the kicker. In order to accomplish the above goals, you have to become a lot more discriminating about the movies you watch. The entertainment industry knows all about the formative task of education, and they employ all four components as they seek to unravel during the week what the Holy Spirit began to weave on Sunday. Are movies catechetical? You bet. Do they tell a story about how we got here, and who “we” are? You bet. Is there a ritual associated with it? Yes, right down to the communion popcorn. And is a particular kind of lifestyle modeled on the screen and in various ways commended? Yes, and all of that.
Along these lines, I am currently reading James K.A. Smith’s recent book, Desiring the Kingdom, and he makes a wonderful distinction between education as information and education as formation. At the end of the day, there is still a major gulf between Smith and me — too much reliance on Heidegger (whom I like to call the Nazi) and Smith is dismissive of certain areas where evangelical Christians have actually distinguished themselves in recognition of the very point he is making. Robust defenses of marriage against homosexual encroachments and defenses of free markets is just the kind of thing we should want “education as formation not information” to result in. But Smith isn’t so sure, which is why his project doesn’t meet its own outstanding standard (p. 126). But the standard itself is quite good, and much needed. Early on in the book Smith makes the vital point that education is about shaping desire, and not so much about dropping worldview modules into the brain, like they were so many wood pellets for that special intellectual stove of yours. What he calls shaping desire, I have called teaching students to love the standard.
In short, if formation is the point, and it is, we are quite right to be concerned about the form it takes.