Review of Francis Chan, Letters to the Church.

This is a hard book to review. What bleeds through every page is Francis Chan’s love for Christ and his desire to serve Him passionately. If there is anything Francis Chan is not, it’s lukewarm. The man pulses with a passionate desire to glorify God. Letters is personal to the point of being intimate. It is Chan’s self-disclosure of what’s been at work in his heart for the last couple decades. It’s so personal that to critique the book is inevitably to critique the author, and I shudder to think of that—I’m not sure it’s fair.

First two disclaimers: Chan hits me right where I live. I will freely and shamefully admit I do not have his passion. I want to serve Christ and glorify Him, but it feels more cerebral and less visceral, and I don’t think that’s necessarily a good thing. So how much of my critique is subjective and not objective? I can’t honestly answer that.

Secondly, I have some doctrinal concerns about some aspects of Chan’s theology of the Holy Spirit. How much of my critique is theological nit-picking? I can’t honestly answer that either.

Positively, this is a good book. It takes a critical, sometimes emotional look at the modern church and finds it wanting. Chan’s commitment is to do church right, which is an excellent commitment in my opinion. He is also concerned that the American church is filled with nominal Christians, perhaps people we can’t even call Christian. I agree. His vision of doing church differently is innovative, intriguing, and well within the bounds of Scripture. He also admits it is not the only way of doing church.

Chapters 6, 7, 8, and 9 are excellent, dealing with what makes a good pastor, with suffering as the normal experience of a Christian, with turning people loose to use their gifts, and principles for remaking church so that it more closely fits the Scripture, respectively.

Much of Chan’s critique is spot on. “Part of the reason we have created a culture of non-committal Christianity that avoids suffering is that we don’t treasure Him enough. We want Jesus, but there are limits to what we will sacrifice for Him. We want Him, but there are lots of things we want in life” [140].

The negatives are significant, but not sufficient to cause one to pass this book by. One of the biggest turnoffs for me, particularly in the first half of the book, is how self-referential Chan’s writing is. That the book has autobiographical features is only part of the explanation. Chan seems to write with a rather self-conscious view that he has been called to reform the church. In fairness to him, this perspective becomes a little less pronounced as the book draws to a close.

There are places in the book in which Chan displays a biblically deficient, rather gauzy view of the first-century church. According to Scripture it was a church that included women who could not get along, church leaders who demanded preeminence, church members involved in sexual immorality, churches that were disputing Paul’s authority, factions, people who were lying about their giving, and so on. Chan laments on page 9 that the modern church looks nothing like the first-century church. Perhaps he should look again.

He repeatedly paints with an exceedingly broad brush. On page 128 he says, “If you listened only to the voice of Jesus, read only the words that came out of His mouth, you would have a very clear understanding of what He requires of His followers. If you listened only to modern preachers and writers, you would have a completely different understanding of what it means to follow Jesus.” But this is simply not true. Is it true of some modern preachers (can anyone say Joel Osteen or name the signs, wonders, and prosperity preachers)? Certainly, but Chan treats the fringe as though it is the mainstream. To take just a few examples of orthodox popular modern writers and preachers, I don’t believe Piper’s Don’t waste your life, or MacArthur’s writings on Lordship salvation undersell the commitment Christ demands.

But Chan uses this broad brush so frequently it makes me wonder what circles he walks in. The church as he describes it seems to be painted in the style of a megachurch that panders to its congregation’s whims and whose main commitment is numerical growth. That sort of church is common enough, but it is not representative of orthodox American Christianity. That is not the model that I see in my church or in other local Bible-believing assemblies here in western Ohio. At times, Chan’s style is shoot-from-the-hip and mischaracterizes biblically faithful churches.

In one particularly telling paragraph, he writes “When I looked at what went on at Cornerstone, I saw a few other people and me using our gifts, while thousands just came and sat in the sanctuary for an hour and a half and then went home” [15]. The implication was that they went home and did nothing. The fact of the matter is that Chan has no idea what they went home and did—he couldn’t possibly know. Some probably did do nothing. Others probably went home and continued to live lives for God’s glory, witnessing to neighbors, friends, and co-workers, ministering to hurting people, inviting folks to Christ and to church. Does Chan think Cornerstone was built only on the strength of his preaching? Does he not realize that perhaps a significant part of the “thousands” were going home and telling others where they could find the answers that they so desperately needed? Perhaps it was the faithfulness of Cornerstone’s members that was behind a significant portion of the church’s growth? Maybe it wasn’t him.

In my own experience at my church, I am regularly finding out (to my delight and surprise) how the average individual in the pew is carrying on faithful ministry to their family, neighbors, and coworkers, far beyond the campus. It’s not the result of a program and it is unheralded, but it is happening all the same.

I’m giving this book three stars. It’s worth the read, but read it with discernment. While Chan is undoubtedly aware, theologically and experimentally, of the diversity of people and personalities God has created, I am not convinced he has allowed his awareness to inform his perspective. Chan is very emotional and very passionate and it’s on his sleeve for all to see. But God also has faithful servants whose love for Christ manifests itself in ways less volatile. What some believers could take away from this book is the mistaken idea that unless they are made in the emotional mold of Francis Chan, there might be something wrong with their confession of Christ.

The Church has a Hearing Problem

Probably the most common expression in my lexicon of spoken words is “huh?” You see, I’m hard of hearing. Not deaf, but I have a hard time with the frequency range of the spoken voice. Sometimes, my wife says, it seems to be selective.

So let’s talk about Jeremiah [I know—that wasn’t a very smooth segue].

Jeremiah’s ministry took place during the sunset years of Judah: late seventh century BC, early sixth century. God was bringing judgment upon His people (very important point: on His people) through the agency of Nebuchadnezzar and his Babylonian juggernaut of an army. Just before the hammer fell, God extended to Judah the final offer of clemency: Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, “Amend your ways and your deeds, and I will let you dwell in this place.” (Jeremiah 7:3, NASB95)

But it was falling on deaf ears: “Behold, you are trusting in deceptive words to no avail. Will you steal, murder, and commit adultery and swear falsely, and offer sacrifices to Baal and walk after other gods that you have not known, then come and stand before Me in this house, which is called by My name, and say, ‘We are delivered!’—that you may do all these abominations? Has this house, which is called by My name, become a den of robbers in your sight? Behold, I, even I, have seen it,” declares the Lord. (Jeremiah 7:8–11, NASB95)

The chapters that follow double-down on exposing Judah’s apostate behavior. “At that time,” declares the Lord, “they will bring out the bones of the kings of Judah and the bones of its princes, and the bones of the priests and the bones of the prophets, and the bones of the inhabitants of Jerusalem from their graves. They will spread them out to the sun, the moon and to all the host of heaven, which they have loved and which they have served, and which they have gone after and which they have sought, and which they have worshiped. They will not be gathered or buried; they will be as dung on the face of the ground.” (Jeremiah 8:1–2, NASB95)

“Which they have loved … served … gone after … sought … and worshiped.” Whoa! It was a thorough-going departure from the true and living God. Note well: these are God’s people turning from God. In a very memorable turn of phrase, their apostasy is described in these words: “Be appalled, O heavens, at this, And shudder, be very desolate,” declares the Lord. “For My people have committed two evils: They have forsaken Me, The fountain of living waters, To hew for themselves cisterns, Broken cisterns That can hold no water.” (Jeremiah 2:12–13, NASB95). God says of the depth of the sin of His people, “Were they ashamed because of the abomination they had done? They certainly were not ashamed, And they did not know how to blush; . . . ” (Jeremiah 8:12, NASB95)

They did not know how to blush. Wow! God’s people, no less.

I’ve seen and heard a lot of believers making noises about “God’s judgment on America, because of America’s sins.” This is a refrain that is commonly heard after natural disasters, such as hurricanes, and unnatural disasters, such as the mass killing in Las Vegas.

And I want to say, “Not so fast, Christian.”

You see, God will (and does) judge the sins of mankind generally. Prime example: the flood. Another prime example, the Canaanites. But there is in Scripture the principle of a preservative, a preservative that delays judgment upon a wider people. Remember the conversation God had with Abraham shortly before destroying Sodom and Gomorrah? If only ten righteous men could be found there, God would restrain His judgment (Genesis 18:32). Was that a one-time deal, a spiritual blue-light special? No, because God says something very similar in Jeremiah: ““Roam to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem, And look now and take note. And seek in her open squares, If you can find a man, If there is one who does justice, who seeks truth, Then I will pardon her.” (Jeremiah 5:1, NASB95). This is a double-barreled statement, we’ll come back to it in a minute.

Clearly, if there was one (not even ten!) righteous man in Jerusalem, it would be spared.

Here’s the point: God’s judgment was falling because His own people were behaving like the unregenerate nations around them. I’d like to suggest that we, the Church, should consider whether or not WE are the cause of judgment in our day: “Why do you call Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?” (Luke 6:46, NASB95). It might be wise to take a second look at the letters to the churches in Revelation 2-3.

Maybe it’s the Church that has the hearing problem. How many are sitting in the auditorium on Sundays and engaging in secret sin on Mondays? How many Christians are ignorant of their Bibles, not because they are dumb but because they have no desire to read them? I’m amazed by the number of people I talk to who are living together, and/or having sex outside the bonds of marriage, and yet call themselves Christians. How about the Christian parents who are diligently teaching their children to worship sports, relegating corporate worship to a secondary priority that happens only if their team has no game on Sunday morning? How about those Christians who live for camping on the weekends, and tolerate corporate worship only if the weather is bad?

How about the coldness and hardness in my own heart?

By the way, I am well aware that “they are not all Israel who are descended from Israel” (Romans 9:6). God’s people were, in Jeremiah’s time, a mixed multitude. But so is the visible Church. The visible Church today has many who say “we are delivered, we prayed a prayer,” who then go on thinking they may safely continue in their sins. What exactly did you think Jesus was saying in Matthew 13? “Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a dragnet cast into the sea, and gathering fish of every kind; and when it was filled, they drew it up on the beach; and they sat down and gathered the good fish into containers, but the bad they threw away.” (Matthew 13:47–48, NASB95)

At the very least, we believers have failed to be a preservative in our own nation. Perhaps we shouldn’t blame the abortionist and the homosexual for God’s judgment. Those are sins, to be sure. But the real answer might be a lot closer to home. Do we, the Church, even know how to blush over our own sins?

Oh, and one more thing. That righteous man God was seeking in Jerusalem, whom if He found He would pardon His people? God did find Him—or, rather, God sent Him. His name was Jesus.