What led you to write Discipleship and the Evangelical Church?

I grew up in a household that emphasized the nominalism of the American church, the need for revival, and similar themes. I was fed a steady diet of the journals of Jim Elliot and David Brainerd, the sermons of Whitefield, Edwards, and such modern-day prophets as Leonard Ravenhill, the writings of Amy Carmichael, and many other similar works, in order to help me connect with authentic Christianity–the kind we read about in the New Testament. This was my legacy, and after years of reflection, not only have I not abandoned this vision, I have come to hold to it more strongly than ever. After returning home from the mission field and settling down again in America–hopefully not permanently!–the old burdens returned. DEC is my response to what I have seen in the church over the past decade, as well as, for me, a retrodding of the old paths.

What is DEC about?

It’s simple, really; DEC is about our true calling as individual Christians and as churches, over and against the doctrinal and devotional apathy of the American church. Simply put, our lives are to mimic Jesus, in his character and mission–which involves, at the foundation, an all-out commitment to spreading the gospel and doing good to others.

The style of DEC makes it a bit hard to get into at times. Could the book have been written in a simpler, more down-to-earth style?

Frankly, I have noticed that most Christian books intended for a general audience appear to be written on a middle-school reading level at best. Feedback from early readers made it clear that DEC was not written in quite that simple of a style, but I decided not to simplify it mainly because I also realized early on that while I wanted to reach as many people as possible, the book’s content would likely be more suitable for Christian leaders or those who already have some experience reading more serious Christian writing. Its specific intended audience are leaders with Reformed leanings in Evangelical churches. Serious theologians might conclude that the book doesn’t go into certain issues quite deeply enough; lay readers might struggle to get into it. In the end, I tried to provide sufficient theological depth without sacrificing readability and interest. Whether I succeeded is up to readers to decide!

The tone of DEC is a bit direct at times, especially when you are analyzing the modern church. Some people, especially new or young believers, might take some statements the wrong way, and even view them as too strong or even unloving. Could the book’s tone have been softened a bit? Do you think the direct tone of the book makes it less effective?

Perhaps some statements in the book could have been taken out or softened, but I believe this is a time for absolute honesty, not compromise. The state of the church is just that dire in my opinion, and calls for change are rare–because few people see the need for change. So we need direct talk. But I can honestly say that there are no statements in the book that are unloving. If they are perceived that way, I would simply encourage people to consider the point of view from which they are made, and carefully read over the arguments I am making. Also, it is important to recognize that my writing in this book, and in fact the majority of the writing God has led me to undertake at present, is undeniably devotional or even homiletic in nature and purpose, and certainly not strictly academic.

The first two sections of the book, in Chapter One, are a bit tedious. Not a lot of Christians know or care about such things as the New Perspective. Shouldn’t the book have begun with something more along the lines of what people are interested in?

I believe I had to begin with issues related to the gospel, because this paves the way for my discussion of discipleship. But I also think church leaders and even ordinary Christians should be aware of the dominant theological movements of our day and how they are influencing church doctrine and practice. Both the gospel-centered movement and the New Perspective have influenced the church quite a bit behind the scenes, so it’s good to mention these movements directly and get them out in the open.

Could you clarify the main point of Chapter One?

The call of Christ to discipleship is part of the gospel itself. One cannot be saved without heeding it. And it involves, essentially, a total surrender of one’s life to the authority and mission of Christ.

If what you are saying about discipleship is true, then it would seem that many Evangelical churches, as you say in the book, are missing an essential aspect not only of the Christian faith, but of the gospel itself. Could this rather serious claim actually be true?

I believe it is most certainly true, and I am by no means the first person to say this. In our own day, many church leaders, from John MacArthur over 40 years ago to David Platt more recently, have said similar things. But I find that these truths are perpetually needed in our churches.

What would you say are some key differences between your book and the work of these other authors?

I think it’s clear that DEC approaches things from a fresh angle and has a unique take on the matter of discipleship. For example, I try to clarify those aspects of Christ’s call that are not applicable for today. Carefully doing so only makes Christ’s call that much more pertinent, in my opinion. As another example, I identify ambition as a key component in the whole matter of what it means to surrender everything to Jesus. Not many authors have zeroed on this foundational human motivation, but I believe it to be essential to the discussion, as I mention in the book. Another very important example is how I discuss missions; the Evangelical church is keen to send out as many people as possible to the mission field, but this is actually not the New Testament pattern in the church age. God is first of all interested in his people becoming more like Jesus, being devoted to prayer, and seeking to do ministry in the church. And the process of sanctification takes time. Eventually God will select those he wishes to take the gospel to those who have never heard. This insistence on the priority of the work of God in individual lives and churches prior to effective ministry is one thing that sets my book apart from the writings of Platt in particular.

You argue that understanding–and surrendering–our ambition is an essential aspect of following Jesus. Could you talk a bit more about what this means?

As I say in the book, something that we might call “ambition” has been considered by various thinkers throughout history to be a foundational driving force in us humans. Philosophers and psychologists have speculated about this quite a bit. I argue that in some sense “ambition” may be a sinless thing, but even if it is not, it must be surrendered to Christ. And I contend strongly that if we were truly to consider this matter more seriously in our day, then perhaps much wasted energy and effort could be redirected for the mission of Christ. I also argue that sinful notions of ambition are always lurking in our hearts due to the effects of sin, and we must always be wary of these.

While I agree with much of what you say about covetousness, I feel that this section could be qualified a bit. For example, there are many useful and God-honoring things we can and should do with our money that aren’t directly related to advancing Christ’s kingdom. What is your response to this?

Any topic brought up in a book such as this one, which attempts to cover a lot of territory, would certainly benefit from deeper study. The section on covetousness in Chapter Two is meant to drive the main point home while of necessity being brief and somewhat general. Furthermore, as I indicate in the chapter, it is, in fact, quite difficult to give specifics on money that apply to every Christian in every situation. Of course there are legitimate and proper uses for money that don’t directly involve the gospel. We are to provide for those under our care, for example, and certainly individual Christians need to seek the Lord regarding the best way to do this and at the same time be faithful to share with those in need. But I think the New Testament witness on the issue of money is clear and unified, as I say in the book–and it is quite strong. Certainly few Evangelical Christians today, particularly in America, are taking these things seriously enough.

What exactly are you saying in your discussion of human nature in Chapter Two? That section was a bit hard to follow.

It is hard to say anything specific and definitive about human nature based on the Bible. The Bible is not a science textbook, as is often said, and human behavior is a wonderfully complex and mysterious thing. This is especially true when we consider such notions as the soul, or how our mental states interact with our physical ones. But I believe the New Testament strongly supports the idea that we are led, in general, by our physical desires, and that these can quite readily become sinful. This is what I believe the term “flesh” refers to most often in the writings of Paul in particular. Of course, the word “flesh” (sarx) in the New Testament has several different uses, and generally-speaking in Chapter Two I am referring to a distinct meaning of the word “flesh” that is used by Paul–namely, “the human condition in its fallenness,” as Doug Moo puts it in Chapter 19 of A Theology of Paul and His Letters. I personally think Paul’s use of “sarx” refers more often or more directly than some theologians realize to our basic make-up as human beings, so I see Paul combining this sense of flesh–the human condition in its fallenness–with this more general meaning of sarx, which refers to our physical bodies. These senses often merge, as Moo himself acknowledges. But the key point here is that our flesh, whatever it is, can only be subdued or empowered for good by the Spirit of God. Our minds are no match for our fleshly desires, and we cannot please God in the flesh.

To sum up what I say in the book, we are, in a very foundational sense, physical creatures, controlled by physical desires that are now tainted by sin, and these desires are often in opposition to those of the Holy Spirit, as Paul tells us plainly in Galatians 5:19-23. These truths have profound implications, I believe, for how we understand sanctification and our battle against sin. For example, again, no amount of right thinking will help us in our battle against sin. To do so is to attempt to fight the flesh with the flesh! We need supernatural power, all the time. And this power–to put it starkly–is real power. Those who don’t believe in the possibility and even necessity of real supernatural power working within us Christians aren’t really reading the Bible at all.

You briefly argue for a Reformed view of free will. Was this really necessary in order to get the message of the book across?

Some would argue that I should not have waded into these turbulent waters in a book that is seeking a broad readership, but in my view only Reformed theology, with its strong emphasis on our utter dependence on the Spirit of God (over and against a strong notion of free will, or human ability), best represents the Bible’s picture of our true need of God. Any notion of free will that grants humans some kind of unaided ability to choose God or to choose not to sin not only robs God of his proper place, but will ultimately prove to be insufficient in our day-to-day struggle against sin. I believe this is clearly taught in the Word of God, but often not fully appreciated. Certainly there are confusing issues that arise from these truths, the most obvious being the problem of how to get God’s power to seek him in the first place–and this is a well-known problem associated with Reformed theology. Nevertheless, instead of attempting to wade into this matter in the book, I was content to leave the matter where I believe Scripture leaves it. Perhaps the remaining questions can be addressed in a blog post, though many other authors have dealt with these issues before.

In Chapter Three, you talk a lot about prayer. What might be an effective practical method for getting more prayer in one’s daily life?

Many others have written quite a bit on methods, so I won’t go into that here. But I will say that I believe Christians should prioritize the following when seeking to add more prayer: 1) Daily prayer, probably before the day begins, for themselves and those close to them. 2) Learning how to pray “at all times,” or throughout the day, especially as challenges arise. 3) Committing to “crisis prayer,” or prayer for those in urgent need, as long as the situation is ongoing. 4) Consistent, preferably daily intercession for those in spiritual darkness and for the purposes and people of God, perhaps best done in the afternoon or evening. 5) Intercessory prayer with the people of God, as we see modeled so often in the New Testament.

In your chapter on mission, you don’t really get into a theology of how to do missions; you limit yourself to some passing comments on a few practical topics, really only one–the issue of the importance of God’s call and the anointing of his workers. Wouldn’t the evangelical world benefit from a more thorough theology of mission?

Certainly. But my purpose in this section was merely to focus in on the issue of who is going to the field. If this one issue were taken more seriously, much more good could be done in missions, in my view. To do this, I offer a rather straightforward and I believe Biblically-faithful critique of what is currently understood as the “mission of Christ.” There are many other books that deal with this topic more generally, and many of them are quite useful.

In your chapter entitled “Idols,” which deals with Christians and politics, some would argue that the chapter doesn’t adequately address what is a very complex theological issue today–the matter of cultural engagement. Neo-Calvinists in particular, who are often found in the Presbyterian camp, would argue that their reasons for promoting cultural engagement are based on powerful and timeless theological principles rooted in creation. This chapter doesn’t really get into these issues, and it doesn’t interact with much counterargument on this issue at all. What is your response to this?

It is true that many who support cultural engagement have concocted a variety of theological arguments in support of their claims, some of them rather complex. In this chapter and in the book in general, however, I didn’t have the space to get into these issues in any more depth than I did. I strive to present the major influences and their basic arguments, and then seek to show how the clear teaching and example of the New Testament clearly counters these more general claims. In my view–and this is a major theme in my book–if you don’t see Jesus or his apostles doing something in the New Testament, then there are very good reasons for supposing that you shouldn’t be doing it either! I think this simple idea is potentially a very powerful argument. Jesus called us to imitate him, plain and simple. No amount of appeals to theological systems are robust enough to overturn this, in my view. Furthermore, the issue of political and cultural engagement is addressed in the New Testament, but we have nothing approaching anything that resembles the obsessive and misdirected cultural engagement often promoted in Evangelicalism today. Quite the opposite, in fact.

In Chapter Five you characterize Kuyper’s view as the “dominion” view, but his position is usually labeled “transformist,” just as Niebuhr’s is. Why the distinction?

It is true that Kuyper is usually identified with the “transformist” view, but the general approaches of these two thinkers on this point is a bit different. Generally speaking, Kuyper–or better yet, modern-day Kuyperians–usually approach things from the position of Christ’s authority over all, whereas Niebuhr’s position focuses more on Christ’s redemptive work. My point in this section is obviously not to get into a detailed discussion of these men’s views, but rather to counter what seem to be trends of thought based on these two thinkers in the modern church. My simple point is that we are called neither to “take over” cultural arenas nor seek to transform, convert, or redeem culture.

At some point in Chapter Five you argue that modern politics has changed things for Christians, while a bit later you say that it hasn’t. Could you elaborate on this apparent contradiction?

In the first instance, I am arguing that the fact that democracy and freedom are wide-spread in our day doesn’t mean that we now have the right or duty to make maintaining these goods a priority. We can promote and vote for such goods, certainly, but these things in and of themselves are still not part of our mission as followers of Jesus. In the second instance, I am merely arguing practically that the possibility for greater involvement in the political process should compel us to utilize it for doing good. In this case, I believe the move toward more democracy in the Western world represents a development that Christians should take advantage of. Of course, there is more one could say on these things, and as I say in the book, at times in our society it is hard to say just how much involvement in political and civil affairs one should engage in. Spiritual wisdom is needed in individual instances.

What would you say to those who argue that we should get involved in politics to stop the spread of evil in general in society? This wasn’t necessarily part of the mission of Christ, but it would seem to be something Christians should be interested in doing, especially as things are getting so bad in our society.

I think Christians should seek to do this as they are able, as long as they keep in mind that their goal is to do good to those in need as ambassadors of Christ, not to seek to create a Christian culture or a Christian nation on earth. Our primary or ultimate aim is not to Christianize culture. We must do good with the true mission of Jesus in view–the rescue of human beings, body and soul, through the preaching of the gospel and the spread of God’s love. Obviously, sometimes these two aims merge–for example, stopping evil might mean simultaneously rescuing human souls (consider opposing slavery or abortion). And sometimes we might seek what appears to be the Christianization of culture on some level for the sake of the gospel; obviously God’s light is in danger of being snuffed out in some parts of our society. But again, we can never forget that our aim is not to create a Christian society on earth. We must stop short of seeking this, for it was clearly not Jesus’s goal. And we must also remember that many times throughout history God has allowed Christians to “lose” on earth; when this happens, they are to seek to be witnesses elsewhere. Would losing America to non-Christian influences mean the end of God’s witness in the world? Not even close. I would remind us as well that there are far needier people in far distant places, people who have never heard of Jesus. If American Christians are ignoring these in favor of their own culture and society, then we are not being faithful to the mission of Christ.

The issue of social justice is so inflammatory today; things like Critical Race Theory have become incredibly divisive topics. Could you help clarify some of your statements on these matters in the book? At one point it seems like you endorse the use of such theories.

First of all, many, many theories that have emerged in science, philosophy, psychology, sociology, etc., have been true and useful in many respects. This is obvious from even a superficial study of history. So right off the bat, we should acknowledge that whatever seems undeniably true in any theory should be accepted by Christians. We must also make sure that we don’t throw theories out simply because they come from “tainted” sources or because parts of them are wrong, which would obviously be fallacious reasoning.

More importantly, however, notice that I did not say in the book that any claim of CRT is true in any sense. That is obviously not my concern in the book. Furthermore, neither I nor anyone I know who is interested in the plight of the oppressed both here and abroad has ever deeply studied or taken seriously any of the tenets of CRT. But what I do point out in the book is that CRT and related topics seem to hit too close to home for many professing Christians, and this is unfortunate. Fears over CRT seem to be disrupting much good that is being done in churches to promote racial reconciliation. Again, this is an incredible shame, and can only be a ploy of the evil one, in my view.

Could you clarify the following sentence on page 141: “notice, however that the Great Commission requires us not to preach the gospel, but to teach souls to observe ‘all that I commanded you’”? Obviously the great commission requires us to preach the gospel.

Here I was thinking of the Great Commission as recorded in Matthew, which I refer to earlier in the book. But of course to clarify I should have included the word “only,” as in “not only to preach the gospel.” Regardless, I think the meaning is clear.

After multiple readings by many, including the editors at Wipf and Stock, there are still a small number of typos and editing errors (things I would have corrected had I been cognizant of them at the time) in the book, as is typical with even the biggest publishing companies, but in the case of each of the errors in DEC, I believe my original intent is clear, and there were not enough errors to consider re-editing the book. As far as I understand, there are far fewer typos and errors than is usual in a book of this size (8-9 typos/errors for the entire 78,000 words).

What exactly are you trying to say about the rise of same-sex attraction in our culture in Chapter Six? That section was also a bit hard to follow.

I carefully considered whether I should leave this rather speculative section in, but in the end I decided it might be of use to some Christians–even though it certainly could have been simplified and clarified a bit more than it was (the section needed one more rewrite in my view, but in the end I ran out of time). What I am considering here is the interesting problem of the rise of same-sex attraction as an identity marker, of what we might call today “gayness,” or the feeling that you are “gay.” My basic point in this section is that such feelings are on the rise in part because of a change in our collective superego. As is well-known, the superego in Freud is that part of our brains that tells us what we should do. We get this input from our nurturing environments. If such input weakens or changes over time, then of course certain inhibitions will be removed–inhibitions that, Christians should certainly argue, God designed to be in place. Of course, this is just one of many factors that is contributing to the rise in sexual confusion–I mention other contributing factors earlier in the section–but I think it is an important one.

But whether we endorse Freudian theory on this point or not, surely we can all agree that there has been a gradual loss of Christian-based or Christian-influenced input from society and parents upon the minds of our young people. Such input is not necessarily a “driving force,” mind you; it is what we might refer to as a restraining force. As I mention in the section, the “driving force” behind these changes is obviously human desire. So if the restraining force–in this case our superego–weakens or changes, the driving force within us will be free to increase in strength, and it will eventually lead to drastic changes.

You seem to argue in favor of women teaching in some capacity in the church. Could you clarify what you think about this issue?

I think it is clear from the Bible that women should not occupy positions of authority or leadership in the church. In other words, they should not be pastors or elders (I think the Bible clearly teaches that these two terms, “pastor” and “elder,” refer to the same office). Some would also add that women should never address the congregation in a way that would appear to be “teaching” or “exercising authority,” as Paul forbids. But does this injunction exclude every single opportunity a woman might have to speak in church, both “formal” and “informal”? Surely we wouldn’t wish to hold this principle too strictly. Clearly, many, many laypeople in our churches, including, of course, many women, have much to share based on experiences God has given them and how he has worked in their lives. To say that a woman can never share such things to the larger congregation seems to me to be applying the principle far too narrowly. And if a woman should have such an opportunity and should appear to be “teaching,” should this be a matter of serious concern? To me this would be going too far. I should add that I strongly suspect that far more women were speaking and sharing in the early church than we might realize, especially when we consider the presence of female prophets in those early congregations. So I think the Evangelical (and especially the Reformed) community has the responsibility to consider how to give more women, especially godly, proven women, more opportunities to speak, share, and even “teach” in church. If some wish to leave the final category (teaching) to men only, or have women teach women only, then I would agree, again, that this seems to be the clear way to understand Paul’s teaching on the matter. However, I have been in so many Reformed churches where they hold these things so strictly that the situation becomes imbalanced and misguided. For example, some Reformed churches I have been in forbid women to lead the congregation in prayer or even to share at all. Surely this is too narrow. My main point in this section was to correct imbalances.

Why bring up such a sensitive issue as the pandemic? Wouldn’t it have been better to leave that out of the book?

I believe fairly strongly this was one of those key moments when the Evangelical church in particular showed itself to be falling woefully short of the example of Christ, so I think this was too significant to overlook. In my view, the pandemic showed how far away we are from the love, compassion, and empathy of Christ, pure and simple.

At times when reading the book it seemed as if you were arguing against covenant theology; how would you describe your views on this issue? How important do you think this issue is for Christians today?

I deliberately left off mentioning such issues in the book to keep it as broad and accessible as possible. However, I do believe that in Reformed circles in particular there is a failure to properly appreciate the discontinuity involved with the coming of Christ and his inauguration of the kingdom of heaven. There is more newness to the New Covenant than many in the Reformed community have apprehended, in my view. But I believe one can hold to a variety of positions regarding the covenants without necessarily falling into the practices and abuses that sometimes characterize those who might hold to covenant theology, and this is perhaps the key point.

Reformed churches have done so much good for Evangelicalism in the last 50 years. What, exactly, are some of the issues you see in Reformed churches?

I want to be careful how I answer this, because I have benefitted so very much from the Reformed community, and from Reformed doctrine, over the years. And I am still in significant agreement with the 1689 London Baptist Confession of Faith. However, over my many years of association with Reformed Baptists in particular–I have been in Reformed Baptist churches most of my life–and to a lesser degree with Presbyterians, I have become persuaded that there exists a spirit of formalism–I hesitate to call it legalism, which is a loaded term–in certain Reformed churches. Many Reformed Christians, it seems to me, place great importance on fulfilling certain external requirements: attending public meetings on the Christian Sabbath, tithing, having family devotions, conducting church services according to the so-called Regulative Principle, etc. Some of these things are obviously good and proper. But what has often seemed to be missing is a true heart for God and his purposes in the world. Attending Sunday meetings and such are emphasized as essential outward duties, and Reformed churches make much of these things. Interestingly, they are also keen to discuss business, politics, and a host of other secular things. What are not commonly discussed or emphasized in many churches, I have found, are missions and evangelism, care for the needy and oppressed, spiritual realities and warfare, prayer, etc. In short, I have come to believe quite strongly that many Reformed Baptists churches, and the Reformed Baptist movement in general that I was part of growing up, while being initially useful in many respects, ultimately fell short of fully-realized, spirit-led, New Testament Christianity, and has instead been focused on a potentially-dangerous variant–one that looks far more like 17th-century Puritanism than it does the New Testament.

This is not to say, of course, that many Reformed Baptists are not genuine or even mature believers in many respects; it is simply to say that many Reformed Baptists and Presbyterians, it seems, are not truly plugged in to the Spirit-empowered stream that is vital, inward communion with God, and, most importantly, involvement with Jesus’s heart and mission. This could be said, of course, of many in the professed church at large, and of us all to some degree, but because Reformed believers claim to have so much doctrinal knowledge, to me this makes their failures in this regard much more acute. In addition, I have observed that many in the Reformed community don’t seem to be aware of this problem, or willing to acknowledge it. This is why I specifically mention the Reformed community throughout the book. My burden–and this was my father’s particular burden far more than mine, as he was a Reformed Baptist pastor for two decades–is that Reformed churches really begin to connect with the heart and mission of Christ–for the poor, the needy, the oppressed, and those who sit in spiritual darkness–and begin to manifest the love and deeds that represent the “weightier matters of the law.”