Note: The second part of Jerusalem & Athens will appear in a future issue of Westminster Magazine.
What indeed has Athens to do with Jerusalem? What concord is there between the Academy and the Church? What between heretics and Christians? Our instruction comes from “the porch of Solomon,” who had himself taught that “the Lord should be sought in simplicity of heart.” —Tertullian
INTRODUCTION
On May 28, 1998, Buck Showalter, the manager of the Arizona Diamondbacks, an expansion baseball team in its inaugural season, did something that had never been done before: with two outs in the bottom of the ninth inning and the bases loaded, Showalter ordered his pitcher to intentionally walk Barry Bonds. The Diamondbacks were ahead of the San Francisco Giants 8-6, and the intentional walk made the game 8-7. The next hitter lined out to right field, and the Diamondbacks won the game. After the game, Buck Showalter said, “I wasn’t going to let that guy beat us. I knew I had to take the bat out of his hands.”
In the post-modern era, philosophical and ethical discussions on university grounds were often characterized by the assumption of moral relativism, which denies the existence of an absolute and objective ethical standard determining right and wrong. Although as Christians we would disagree with such a premise, we would, nevertheless, seek to make the most of our opportunity to explain God’s law and the gospel. In other words, post-modernity would allow any idea and ideology to take its turn in the batting order; and, as Christians, we would look forward to grabbing a bat and stepping up to the plate when our spot in the order is up. The problem, however, is that as we walk up to the plate, it is not the moral relativism of post-modernism that we are facing, but the strident fundamentalism of our secular age. On this playing field, Christianity may walk up to the plate, but it may not carry a bat.
Should the church, therefore, suspend its mission to make disciples, at least with respect to reaching college students for Christ? If we can’t swing a bat, should we instead wave a white flag? By no means! Far from capitulation, Scripture calls us to “preach the word”; to “be ready in season and out of season,” to “reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching” (2 Tim. 4:2). So, as we seek to minister to college students faithfully, it is important that we understand the peculiar challenges to the gospel that modern day society presents; but we should also be confident that the Holy Spirit will work through Scripture to renew minds and transform hearts, just like He always has. The campus minister may not be allowed to carry a bat; but the Good Shepherd has not relinquished His rod nor His staff.
THE RESEMBLANCE
During Paul’s second missionary journey, he found his way to Athens, where he encountered a culture characterized by both pagan religion and erudition. In Acts 17:16, Luke writes that the city was “full of idols,” and in Acts 17:18–21, he writes that many Athenians were interested in discussing philosophy, being especially intrigued by new ideas. This description of Athens, and especially the ethos of the Areopagus (Mars Hill), begins to resemble what one might encounter on the college campus today: a place where students (and professors) devote themselves to manifold idols of the heart and mind, even as they revel in the consideration and investigation of new philosophies and ideas. Paul, ever the clever evangelist, plucks the very strings that resonate in the hearts of the Athenians by pointing to an altar dedicated to “the unknown god,” seizing upon their curiosity to tell them that “the unknown god” has now revealed himself in Christ. Paul teaches that God is the creator of all things, including all peoples from one man, and even quotes from the Greek poets to support his assertions. In Acts 17:30–31, we readPaul’s concluding remarks on Mars Hill:
The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.
If the idolatry and curiosity found on the first-century Areopagus in Athens resembles what one might find on a college campus in 21st century America, so should the content of Paul’s message resonate with the teaching of campus ministers today. Paul teaches God’s sovereignty in creation and providence, warns his audience about the coming of the Day of Judgment, and culminates his sermon by calling his audience to repentance and by proclaiming the resurrection of Christ.
If Acts 17’s description of Paul’s ministry on Mars Hill helps paint a picture of what campus ministry might look like today, it must be said that such a painting is at best incomplete. Paul’s audience reacts in one of three ways: the first group mocks Paul because he teaches the resurrection of the dead; the second group is intrigued by Paul’s teaching and desires to hear him teach more; and the third group is persuaded by Paul and believes. And it is precisely at this point that the resemblance between ministry on the Areopagus and ministry on the college campus is interrupted. For, you see, the campus minister today will indeed encounter all three types of reactions described in Acts 17:32–34. But there is a fourth reaction missing on Mars Hill that the campus minister will most certainly encounter today: ostracism. American universities are no longer bastions of free speech, where every idea can be considered, investigated, and debated. On the contrary, many opinions are not deemed worthy of discussion, and those who hold them are not welcome, risking immediate and permanent expulsion at the mere mention of them. This phenomenon is colloquially known as “cancel culture,” a form of grassroots censorship of the people, by the people, and for the people. It is strict and unforgiving; and it includes the gospel in its list of forsaken and forbidden ideas.
One might ask why college students are so willing to restrict free speech. Why did Paul enjoy more liberty in Athens than a campus minister enjoys today on a college campus? In part, the answer is explained by the fact that while Athens was a pagan city where many deities were revered and worshipped, where diverse worldviews were held, and where moral relativism was presupposed, on the college campus one worldview is favored, and one ethic is enforced. And the reason for this is that universities in America are deeply religious and, for lack of a better term, zealously monotheistic! The religion that dominates American universities is that of Fundamentalist Progressivism, whose strict adherents are best described as rabid and intolerant. To deviate from her dogma is to invoke the wrath of the inquisitors of “cancel culture.”
The religion that dominates American universities is that of Fundamentalist Progressivism, whose strict adherents are best described as rabid and intolerant.
Now, to be fair, not every university is equally devoted to the “faith.” Some are willing to overlook certain offenses, allowing Christian ministries to enjoy certain liberties. But, by and large, most universities subscribe to the same creed, and the campus minister must be aware of what he says and where he is standing. In vain would he seek an altar dedicated “to the unknown god,” for the college campus knows the god it serves. In this regard, when the campus minister sets foot on campus, it is not the Mars Hill of Athens he has climbed, but the Temple Mount of Jerusalem. Thus, it is not Acts 17 that provides the most accurate context for modern day college ministry but Acts 21.
Having been stirred by the Spirit to go to Jerusalem, Paul arrives in the Holy City in Acts 21. After visiting James, the Lord’s brother and leader of the Jerusalem church urges Paul to go to the Temple to demonstrate his faithfulness to the God of Israel. Campus ministers today share this same call from the church: to go to the campus to demonstrate and proclaim faithfulness to the one true God. But it is not Paul’s call in Acts 21 that I want to underscore; rather, it is the crowd’s attitude on the Temple Mount that is particularly instructive. When people recognize who Paul is, they accuse him of proliferating a teaching that is contrary to their religious convictions and damaging to the people. In Acts 21:30, Luke writes that people then “seized Paul and dragged him out of the temple, and at once the gates were shut.” In other words, since Paul’s teaching contradicted the religious convictions held on Temple Mount, Paul was canceled. It is at this point of censorship that Acts 21 and the 21st century college ministry are most similar. And the impetus for the censorship now, as then, is religious in nature.
THE RELIGION
Before suggesting which road might lead to fruitful ministry to college students, it is worth spending some time understanding the religion that the campus minister is up against. I call it Fundamentalist Progressivism because the term encapsulates both the religious zeal and the socio-political ambitions of its adherents. And, lest you question whether it is proper to refer to this philosophy of life as a “religion,” allow me to demonstrate that it is dressed in all the characteristic trappings.
Religions have prophets, and Fundamentalist Progressivism is no exception. The prophets of this novel religion come in two varieties. First, we have the “Major Prophets.” This group is made up of university presidents, provosts, and college deans. These are the visionary leaders who set the course and culture for the university, using their powers of persuasion to recruit faculty, staff, and the necessary funds to make sure their vision is implemented. They are foretellers, in that they predict progress along the path they set. In other words, these prophets proudly and persistently proclaim prosperity and progress for all peoples if their plans are put into practice. They also enjoy great prestige, not only in the university itself, but also in all social spheres.
The second type of prophets I would describe as “Minor Prophets.” These are comparatively minor with respect to prestige, but not with respect to influence. Within the university, they consist of student leaders and editors of campus newspapers; more broadly, this group includes social media influencers, mainstream media personalities, musicians, artists, and celebrities. If the Major Prophets are foretellers who predict the course to progress, the Minor Prophets are forth-tellers who promote and propagate that very plan. By their words and actions, they help shape the culture and help people shape up.
Let me briefly share an example of the influence that the prophets of Fundamentalist Progressivism hold over the college campus. Rice University was established in Houston, Texas at the end of the 19th century thanks to the generosity of philanthropist William Marsh Rice. A Massachusetts native, and from very humble beginnings, Mr. Rice made his formidable fortune primarily through real estate deals and through investments in the railroad in Texas. At the end of his life, having no children of his own, Rice desired to demonstrate his gratitude to Texas by establishing a university in Texas that would rival the academic excellence of the Ivy League but would be affordable to Texans. With this vision in mind, William Marsh Rice left half his fortune for the establishment of The William Marsh Rice Institute (later to be renamed, Rice University) in Houston, Texas, opening its doors in 1912. Thanks to the generous endowment of her founder, Rice University offered a free college education to Texans until the 1970s! Although it is no longer free to all Texans, its massive endowment allows the university to offer free tuition, as well as room and board, to students from lower income families (whether from Texas or not), and very competitive financial aid packets to all her students. None of this would be possible without the foresight and generosity of the university’s founder.
And yet, since Mr. Rice’s family owned slaves at some point, a growing number of students, minor prophets of Fundamentalist Progressivism, are diligently working to ensure that William Marsh Rice—or at least the statue that holds his ashes at the heart of the school’s Academic Quadrangle—is now persona non grata. Ironically, these minor prophets are receiving world-class instruction at an institution of higher learning that would not exist were it not for William Marsh Rice’s philanthropic spirit!
But, irrespective of the apparent incongruity of it all, their forth-telling movement has grown from a handful of students at the beginning of the 2020 school year, to a loud and significant alliance of students and alumni that have forced the hand of the university leadership, which has announced the formation of a task force dedicated to investigate the issue, including the charges brought about by these “prophets,” as well as their corresponding demands.
Religions also have Priests, and within Fundamentalist Progressivism, college professors and scientists make up its priesthood. Professors and scientists enjoy the trust of regular people and also of those in authority. These priests can advise presidents on public policy and generals on military strategy. One might say that these experts hold the keys to the kingdom, as it were. Professors have the authority to assign grades—and, therefore, the power to confer degrees, or to deny them. Scientists, through their access to knowledge or revelation of the highest order, are able to offer their minds and creativity in the service of repairing the damage done by the human species to the environment, and to help elevate the hopes and aspirations of humanity toward a more prosperous way of life. Together, professors and scientists are the sanctioned mediators between students and the American Dream, between common, ordinary, lay folks, and knowledge that promises to one day remove all disease and pain, and to wipe away every tear.
Together, professors and scientists are the sanctioned mediators between students and the American Dream, between common, ordinary, lay folks, and knowledge that promises to one day remove all disease and pain, and to wipe away every tear.
A recent example of the power of the priesthood is the relative ease with which universities have been able to implement invasive protocols during the COVID-19 pandemic, including the requirement of weekly COVID-19 testing and mask-wearing indoors and outdoors, even when students are by themselves. Whether or not one agrees with these policies is not the point. The point is that students, by and large, did not present any significant resistance to measures that under normal circumstances could have been labeled as draconian. And how were these sweeping changes to health protocols accomplished? It was through the mediatorial powers of Fundamentalist Progressivism’s priestly class.
We’ve seen that Fundamentalist Progressivism has prophets and priests. Now we’ll see that it has the third religious office, that of a ruler or king. From a religious perspective, the king is the officer that most resembles Deity. He is the protector of his people, as well as the purveyor of goods and benefits. In other words, the king is responsible for his people’s welfare, for their safety, for their health, and for their nurture. In Fundamentalist Progressivism, this role, or office, is occupied by the Federal Government. It is the Federal Government that oversees the security of its citizens, especially against foreign threats. It is the Federal Government that implements economic policies that create the conditions for citizens to be gainfully employed. It is the Federal Government that administers a welfare program to ensure people don’t go hungry. It is the Federal Government that institutes health policies—and even provides healthcare—promoting the wellbeing of its population. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that adherents to Fundamentalist Progressivism consider the Federal Government their chief benefactor and provider, their healer and their rock.
An eye-opening example of how college students have been inculcated with the idea that the Federal Government represents their hope for the good life, as it were, took place in November of 2016. With Hillary Clinton widely expected to beat Donald Trump for the Presidency of the United States by a landslide, there was an election viewing party in the student center at Rice University. In the early stages of the evening, when polls in the eastern part of the country were beginning to close, the mood in the student center was lively and celebratory. But, as the night progressed, and results began to be announced, the mood took a drastic shift toward doom and gloom. It became increasingly clear that not Hillary Clinton, but Donald Trump would become the President of the United States! College students, that is to say, young adults—grown men and women—became increasingly anxious, agitated, and angry. Eventually, they became depressed and dejected, even to the point of tears. It goes without saying that in a democracy the candidate you support sometimes wins, and sometimes the candidate you support loses. But, in a few years elections will be held again, and voters will have an opportunity to hold their elected officials accountable. Presumably, elected officials will do their best to execute their responsibilities with a view to improving the conditions of their constituency. If they don’t do a good job, they can be voted out of office next time. Depression, dejection, and destitution hardly seem like appropriate reactions to an unfavorable election result; unless, of course, you’ve placed all your hope in a candidate and on the government they will help lead. The tears of those college students in November of 2016 were the result of the hope that Fundamentalist Progressivism places on the government as their ruler and king, and, therefore, as the purveyor of every good gift and every perfect gift.
Evangelists are another staple of religion that can be found in Fundamentalist Progressivism. Activists execute this role with adequate zeal and conviction. What they lack in depth of understanding, they make up with the breadth of their reach. Their motto ought to be “Have megaphone; will travel,” for there appears to be no location so remote, and no cause so irrelevant or insignificant, as to dissuade them from joining a march in protest. Through their catchy chants and clever slogans, and by their unwavering commitment to the mission, being willing to risk personal loss with reckless abandon, activists change minds, transform hearts, and gain converts to the cause.
This evangelism was observed in action in the summer of 2020 during the Black Lives Matter movement. Fundamentalist Progressivism evangelists promoted their cause by enacting what came to be known as a “social media blackout,” whereby users on various platforms changed their profile pictures to a black square. Initially, this served as a demonstration of solidarity with the Black Lives Matter movement. This appeared to serve evangelism well, for the campaign drew attention widely, and many dutifully followed suit blackening out their own profile pictures. However, this wasn’t enough. Evangelists weren’t content with mere solidarity and support. Evangelists were seeking converts. They wanted to make disciples. Within a day or two, a message was appended to the blackout campaign. “Silence is violence,” they said, and began shaming people, not only for not posting a black profile picture, but also for only posting a black profile picture. I remember reading the posts of several Christian students whom I knew, angrily demanding that their friends give money to Black Lives Matter. “If you really care about equity and justice, don’t just post a black profile picture,” they said, “put your money where your mouth is and see where your heart is also.”
Like an organized religion, Fundamentalist Progressivism also claims its own saints. These are the intersectional superstars that enjoy great acclaim in the broader culture.
Like an organized religion, Fundamentalist Progressivism also claims its own saints. These are the intersectional superstars that enjoy great acclaim in the broader culture. The existence of segments of the population or people groups who are systematically oppressed or disenfranchised is generally accepted as an indisputable fact. Individuals who belong to any one of these people groups are conferred a victimhood status that elevates the value and importance of their life experience, earning them the admiration of society. The victimhood status gives these “saints” a greater voice, together with a right to speak and be heard on any number of issues. Furthermore, the greater the number of oppressed or disenfranchised groups they belong to—that is to say, the more “victimhood boxes” they can check—the higher their status rises on the intersectionality scale, with the corresponding promotion on the ladder to sainthood.