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Assistant Professor of New Testament

April 2009

Volume 1

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Of Grant and Judy

We live, in the greater Toronto area, at the cen­tre of the world’s most diverse meet­ing of cul­tures. Con­fronted with this flood of unfa­mil­iar faces, those of us whose fam­i­lies have been here a bit longer often slide into one of two reac­tions. On the one hand, there is Grant. He sits at Tim Hor­tons, in the same seat he has occu­pied every Sat­ur­day morn­ing for the last three decades. On this par­tic­u­lar morn­ing, though, he sud­denly real­izes that no one around him is speak­ing Eng­lish. With a rush of inner ver­tigo he sud­denly real­izes that he is the out­sider in his own neigh­bour­hood. He can­not under­stand what the peo­ple beside him are say­ing. He can­not share the joke that just passed between the slight Asian man in front of the till and the middle-​​aged woman behind it. It is as if he came home and found that a stranger had moved into his bed­room. As he drinks his double-​​double, he set­tles into bit­ter resent­ment that these peo­ple keep com­ing here and not hav­ing the respect to even speak the language!

Oth­ers of us are more like Judy. On that same morn­ing she is lis­ten­ing to CBC news. It seems a Mus­lim woman has been ordered by a judge to remove the veil from her face in court. Cana­dian law, explains the com­men­ta­tor, has always required that the defen­dant be able to see his accuser’s face. The man is charged with rap­ing her, but it is not the con­cern for an accused rapist’s rights that both­ers Judy. After all, he has not been con­victed yet. No, her thought is “How eth­no­cen­tric!” Can the judge not see that those laws were made for a dif­fer­ent time, when Canada was a mono­cul­tural ghetto for white Euro­peans? Judy is serenely con­fi­dent, though, that the supreme court will strike down the judge’s rul­ing and the woman will not have the val­ues of Chris­t­ian Europe shoved down her throat. As the news moves on to another story she is barely aware of the sweet lit­tle surge of supe­ri­or­ity that curls the cor­ner of her lips into a con­de­scend­ing smile.

In truth, most of us prob­a­bly have a lit­tle of both Grant and Judy in us. Liv­ing in Malvern, a working-​​class area of East Scar­bor­ough, I eas­ily slide into a smug sense of supe­ri­or­ity that I’m not as “back­ward” as the peo­ple in those “pure white” towns beyond the GTA. Nine out of ten peo­ple in our cor­ner of the city are first gen­er­a­tion arrivals to Canada. Most have come either from the Car­ribean Islands or the Indian sub-​​continent. Here my wife and I are the vis­i­ble minor­ity! Peo­ple stare in the super­mar­ket at my daughter’s blond hair. After six months in Malvern we were pass­ing through a Barry McDon­alds and our three year old piped up: “Daddy! Why are there are so many white peo­ple here!” Even as I hushed her I savoured a glow of sat­is­fac­tion that we had embraced such a multi-​​cultural neighbourhood.

Yet I’m also not quite so bliss­fully tol­er­ant when some of those other cul­tures impinge on my life. My kids are not get­ting the same expe­ri­ences that defined my child­hood because their friends—the chil­dren of new arrivals—are being raised with a dif­fer­ent set of rules. My Sat­ur­days were spent wan­der­ing the neigh­bour­hood with my friends or catch­ing cray­fish in the park a half-​​mile from our house. Week­ends were dom­i­nated by reg­u­lar sleep­overs at my friends’ houses. But most of the par­ents in our neigh­bour­hood keep their kids on a much shorter leash. Some of them are never allowed out­side to play at all, or they can­not eat at our house because their par­ents do not trust us to cook Halal food. If I’m hon­est, I grieve for my kids’ lost expe­ri­ences just as much as Grant grieves for his lost Tim Hor­tons. And once the first flush of multi-​​cultural pride is past, I dis­cover that it is hard mak­ing friends across cul­tures. Some of those new neigh­bours are not so enthu­si­as­tic about get­ting to know me. All the social cues are off and all too often I end up won­der­ing what I’ve said wrong. I very eas­ily find myself sound­ing like Grant: “What about my cul­ture! Don’t I get to pre­serve that?”

The Apos­tle Paul in Malvern

What does it mean to fol­low Jesus in this increas­ingly chaotic land­scape? Where does cul­ture and cul­tural diver­sity fit in the King­dom of God? Or is it just a neu­tral fact of life to be “man­aged” by a Chris­t­ian the same way it is by any­one else?

The Apos­tle Paul may seem like an unlikely fig­ure to help us here. We have to remem­ber, though, that he grew up in a city that was not so dif­fer­ent from ours. Paul him­self was a vis­i­ble minor­ity in his native Tar­sus, on the south coast of what is now Turkey. Grow­ing up in the Judean quar­ter He was part of a siz­able eth­nic sub-​​culture, likely a child or grand­child of immi­grants. Tar­sus was a pearl of Hel­lenis­tic cul­ture, home to Greek philoso­phers and poets and play­wrights. But Paul’s fam­ily brought with them a dif­fer­ent lan­guage (Ara­maic) and a deter­mi­na­tion to keep their tra­di­tional way of life alive. Nor were Jews the only group crowd­ing into Tar­sus and other cities like it. Egyp­tians, Syr­i­ans, Africans, Ital­ians and Parthi­ans all gained a lit­tle foothold. Each group tried to keep their own iden­tity and dis­tinct­ness intact by form­ing clubs where they could meet, sing their own songs, speak their own lan­guage, and wor­ship their own gods. The whole Roman Empire was the scene of large-​​scale migra­tions in search of work and a bet­ter life, much like the streams of the fright­ened and unem­ployed that today flow into Europe and North America.

Maybe it is not so sur­pris­ing, then, that the prob­lem of cul­tural diver­sity was at the cen­tre of Paul’s mis­sion. He under­stood him­self as “Apos­tle to the Gen­tiles.” That term “Gen­tiles” sim­ply means “non-​​Jews,” any­one from “the nations” out­side Judea or Galilee. Paul’s mis­sion was to announce that God’s res­cue in Christ was for them too! Paul explains in Gala­tians 3:28 that the old eth­nic bound­aries are com­ing down: “There is no longer Jew or Greek … for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” This may sound won­der­ful to us (espe­cially since most of us are Gen­tiles!) but it was shock­ing and hereti­cal to Paul’s fel­low Jews. They were God’s cho­sen peo­ple, priests to the rest of the world! Was the whole point of God’s plan not that the nations would come and join them as Jews? Instead, Paul insisted that God was wel­com­ing the nations into this King­dom with­out leav­ing their cul­tural iden­tity behind. The bound­aries of God’s peo­ple would no longer be the bound­aries of one cul­tural group. They would all become, in Christ, heirs of Israel’s first father Abra­ham (Gal 3:6–14).

Why did Paul come to this con­clu­sion? In part it was prob­a­bly because he read the prophets. He quotes heav­ily in his let­ters from the lat­ter parts of Isa­iah. He knew very well the prophet’s announce­ment that faith­ful Gen­tiles would stream up to Jerusalem at the dawn of God’s restored Kingdom:

And for­eign­ers who bind them­selves to the LORD to serve him, to love the name of the LORD and to wor­ship him … these I will bring to my holy moun­tain and give them joy in my house of prayer. Their burnt offer­ings and sac­ri­fices will be accepted on my altar; for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations. (Isa 56:6–7)

In Isaiah’s renewed Jerusalem some Gen­tiles even serve as priests and Levites in the tem­ple. It is not clear in these ora­cles whether the faith­ful Gen­tiles are to become pros­e­lytes and be absorbed into Israel. Paul, though, clearly did not think they would become Jews. Rather, these wor­ship­pers from the nations would retain their diverse iden­ti­ties as Baby­lo­ni­ans and Egyp­tians and Ioni­ans and Carthagini­ans (Isa 66:19–21). The prophet’s mes­sage was, for Paul, that God would reunite human­ity, undo­ing the scat­ter­ing that had hap­pened at Babel. Or maybe “undo­ing” is the wrong word to use. God was not sim­ply going to re-​​boot human soci­ety as if Gen­e­sis 11 had never hap­pened. God’s king­dom would be richer now because the eth­nic diver­sity of the fallen world would be retained, the many cul­tural strands woven into a har­mo­nious human fabric.

The other key fac­tor in Paul’s mul­ti­cul­tural vision was his belief that God’s final restora­tion had already begun. When the Apos­tle met the risen Christ on the road to Dam­as­cus, he became con­vinced that God’s King­dom had dawned and that the churches were called to be a fore­taste of the full renewal to come. “For if any­one is in Christ, that’s the new cre­ation hap­pen­ing!” (2 Cor 5:17, my trans­la­tion). Just as Isa­iah depicted so clearly, this would mean that Jesus’ fol­low­ers were now to wel­come Gen­tiles into the “tem­ple” that was the Chris­t­ian com­mu­nity. The believ­ers were to be a liv­ing exam­ple of the new, diverse and yet har­mo­nious human soci­ety that God was mov­ing to cre­ate in Christ. As far as they were con­cerned, then, there should now be nei­ther Jew nor Gen­tile. God did not make the dis­tinc­tion any longer, so nei­ther should they!

What did this mean in prac­tice for life in Paul’s churches? Amid the immi­gra­tion and cul­tural vari­ety of Eph­esus or Corinth, would Paul side with Grant or with Judy? The answer, I think, is that he would side with nei­ther. Why? Because both embody atti­tudes that fall short of Christ’s new way of life, atti­tudes that will never allow the escha­to­log­i­cal unity of all peo­ples to become a reality.

Cul­tural Dom­i­nance and the Cross

There are at least three chal­lenges that Paul’s the­ol­ogy of cul­ture poses to both Grant and Judy, and to all of us as well. The first is that we must give up our own cul­ture. It is not that Paul wants our cul­ture to be lost entirely. But he calls us to accept that when we wel­come the “Gen­tiles” our own way of liv­ing will no longer form the frame­work for our pub­lic life and pri­vate rela­tion­ships. This is not because we do not have a right to pre­serve the dom­i­nance of our own cul­ture. It is because the ques­tion of rights is the wrong ques­tion to ask. In 1 Corinthi­ans 9 Paul tried to con­vey to the Corinthian believ­ers that Christ had given us a new way of liv­ing that focused not on our own priv­i­lege, not on what we could claim, but on what we could give away to make our broth­ers and sis­ters stronger. As an exam­ple of liv­ing out the cross Paul said “though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews… To those out­side the law I became as one out­side the law … To the weak I became weak” (1 Cor 9:19–23). He gave up the safety and com­fort of his own Jew­ish way of life, not because he had to, but because that sac­ri­fice would help open the door for Christ’s grace and strength to come to others.

So in Paul’s home base at Anti­och, he and the rest of the Jews learned to “Gen­tilize,” to live as if they were for­eign­ers. Why? Because the alter­na­tives were either to split the church into sep­a­rate eth­nic branches or to make the Gen­tiles adopt a Jew­ish cul­tural iden­tity. Paul vehe­mently refused to do either (Gal 2:11–14). God’s escha­to­log­i­cal pur­pose is, in the Apostle’s under­stand­ing, nei­ther to cre­ate a homo­ge­neous peo­ple nor to cre­ate a set of sep­a­rate peo­ples. The divine mis­sion is about the cre­ation of one new peo­ple of God that includes within it “all nations.” So, though Paul had been “Hebrew of Hebrews” he set aside his own cul­tural tra­di­tion and ate side by side with Gen­tiles from a table laden with unclean food.

That Anti­och sit­u­a­tion high­lights the fact that this vol­un­tary cul­tural sac­ri­fice is espe­cially nec­es­sary for the group that holds the cul­tural upper hand in a given time and place. Within any city there is always one group whose cul­ture is eas­ily mis­taken for the uni­ver­sal norm, for Chris­tian­ity itself. In Paul’s Anti­och it was Judaism that held this “default” posi­tion. So it was nec­es­sary, in Paul’s view, for him and his fel­low Jews to adopt Greek and Syr­ian ways of doing things. It was a mat­ter of delib­er­ately cre­at­ing the space in Paul’s com­mu­ni­ties where Gen­tiles could be Gen­tiles for Christ, with­out feel­ing the tacit assump­tion that act­ing like a Jew was better.

In the con­text of south­ern Ontario, it is the cul­ture English-​​speaking for­mer Brits that is the default. Just walk into the aver­age Cau­casian church ser­vice and notice that all of the music was writ­ten in North Amer­ica and Europe. Notice that we refer to com­mu­ni­ties of Thai or Philip­pino or Niger­ian or Latin Amer­i­can believ­ers as “eth­nic” churches, as if our British tra­di­tion were not just one more eth­nic tra­di­tion. And notice, if we take our place in one of those con­gre­ga­tions, how much of their music is a trans­la­tion of hymns by Charles Wes­ley or songs by Brian Doerk­son. There is good his­tor­i­cal rea­son for the dom­i­nance of English-​​American cul­ture in the churches of the GTA. After all, many of those churches in Thai­land or the Philip­pines or Colum­bia were founded by North Amer­i­can or British mis­sion­ar­ies. Like­wise, it was under­stand­able that Judaism was the default in Paul’s con­text, since God had used Israel as the vehi­cle of his rev­e­la­tion in Christ. Paul, though, would invite those of us who call British-​​American cul­ture our own to give up our cul­tural rights. He would invite us to cre­ate a delib­er­ately non-​​British, non-​​American space in our own com­mu­ni­ties where the nations can join our com­mon life with­out becom­ing like us. We are called to “Nigeri-​​ize” or “Thailand-​​ize” or “Philippin-​​ize” so that the nations can join us with­out think­ing they must “Britain-​​ize” or “American-​​ize.” And to the extent that newer groups (like, say, the Cantonese-​​speaking com­mu­nity from Hong Kong) become firmly estab­lished in the GTA, they too will need to hear this call to cul­tural sac­ri­fice in order to make space for still other “nations” (like, say, the Mandarin-​​speakers from the Chi­nese mainland).

This cul­tural sac­ri­fice is nei­ther easy nor fair. We must not roman­ti­cize it. We are talk­ing about a choice that is more costly than merely cook­ing with curry and lis­ten­ing to “world music.” This sur­ren­der of our cul­tural dom­i­nance, though, is one way in which we take up our cross to fol­low Jesus in his mis­sion. It is one way in which we become a sign and fore­taste of God’s Kingdom.

The Gifts of the Nations

For the Apos­tle to the Gen­tiles, though, the unity of Jew and Gen­tile involved much more than just exchang­ing out­ward cul­tural trap­pings. Paul’s life and work side-​​by-​​side with Syr­i­ans and Greeks and Romans brought him to a deeper grasp of his own rela­tion­ship with God as a Jew. He did not merely “act like a Gen­tile” some­times. Cer­tainly, he learned to use their lan­guage, eat their exotic foods, and sing their unfa­mil­iar songs. Yet it was also through his expe­ri­ences with these for­eign believ­ers that Paul’s under­stand­ing of Israel’s covenant was pro­foundly changed. He may have known from that first day on the Dam­as­cus road that he was called to go and invite the Gen­tiles. It was not until he had lived with them, though, that Paul real­ized the Old Tes­ta­ment law was no longer bind­ing even on Jews. When he needs to remind the Gala­tians of this new divine econ­omy, Paul does not point them to the Scrip­tures. He points them to their own unique expe­ri­ences: “I only want to know one thing from you—how did you receive the Spirit? Was it by doing what the law requires or by trust­ing what you heard?” It was as he saw them wor­ship together, as he watched them seized with ecsta­tic expe­ri­ences of the Spirit, that Paul seems to have come to a new under­stand­ing of Israel’s law. It was through these Gen­tiles that God taught their Apos­tle what it meant to be a faith­ful Jew!

Paul’s exam­ple invites us, by anal­ogy, to expect that our own faith will be trans­formed when the nations learn to live and work together. Our ten­dency in evan­gel­i­cal cir­cles is to view cul­ture as the out­ward “cloth­ing” for the unchang­ing essence of the Gospel. What we often over­look, though, is that the sup­posed “culture-​​less” ker­nel of Chris­tian­ity may in fact be shaped by our own cul­tural biases and blind­ers. There is a dan­ger here that our appar­ent open­ness to cul­tural diver­sity in the church can mask a hid­den (and so more pow­er­ful) bias in favour of our own cul­tural expres­sions. Look­ing back on the mis­sion­ary vis­its to my child­hood church, I can see now that we never expected our own faith to be trans­formed by the “recip­i­ents” of our good works. We would enjoy see­ing white North Amer­i­cans dressed up in Niger­ian batik. We might wrap our tongues around the strange words of a Bantu wor­ship song. But this was a game of “dress-​​up.” We would take off the for­eign clothes again and noth­ing about our own under­stand­ing of the Gospel would be changed.

There is no rea­son for us to expect, though, that the gifts of the nations were all spent in Paul’s day. On the con­trary, he encour­ages us to expect that our own grasp of the Gospel itself will be changed when we make space for other nations to live and wor­ship along­side us. He invites us to see in the diverse cul­tures around us much more than an enter­tain­ing vari­ety of tastes and colours and sounds. Paul invites us, instead, to expect that the nations will open up for us new dimen­sions of under­stand­ing Christ’s mis­sion. This is, again, not an easy process. Paul’s insights about the law tore many first-​​century churches apart with fierce con­tro­versy. The prob­lem is that we can never know ahead of time what God will bring us through our encounter with a new cul­ture. We will only learn over years of life together what lay­ers of our own faith are actu­ally cul­tural “cloth­ing” that has caught and bound us as we tried to join in God’s mis­sion. There is a real risk here. We will undoubt­edly go through stages of con­flict and anx­i­ety about how exactly God wants to change our hearts and souls through our inter-​​cultural rela­tion­ships. If Paul’s exam­ple is any indi­ca­tion, though, we will only dis­cover the shape of God’s mis­sion, of our own call­ing, as we engage in this risky open­ness to the nations’ trans­form­ing pres­ence among us.

The Redemp­tion of All Cultures

At the same time, Paul also teaches us to be crit­i­cal of all cul­ture. This is the cre­ative ten­sion that sec­u­lar plu­ral­ism con­stantly misses. Where Judy leaps uncrit­i­cally to endorse a Mus­lim woman’s right to wear her veil in court, we need to ask some ques­tions. Does the veil­ing of women per­pet­u­ate the view that women are prop­erty to be pro­tected, or that men are unable to con­trol desire? Cana­dian mul­ti­cul­tur­al­ism tends to say that culture–any culture–is inher­ently good. Any change in other cul­tures is a moral evil. So Chris­t­ian mis­sion­ar­ies are often crit­i­cized for “pol­lut­ing” indige­nous cul­tures from Brazil to Mon­go­lia. Even in the sec­u­lar dis­cus­sion, though, this uncrit­i­cal open­ness becomes unwork­able at some point. We run into moral quan­daries in devel­op­ment work when our notions of “devel­op­ment” con­flict with local cul­ture. Is the tra­di­tional muti­la­tion of young girls in North Africa a “cul­tural expres­sion” or sim­ple abuse? Is our crit­i­cism of atroc­i­ties in Burma a cru­sade for jus­tice or our impo­si­tion of our own cul­tural norms of human rights?

Paul, by con­trast, assumes that all cul­tures are fallen. They can all be cat­a­lysts for the deep­en­ing of our grasp of God’s mis­sion, but they will also include ele­ments at odds with God’s King­dom. Hence Paul had to push the Corinthi­ans to be more crit­i­cal of both the cul­tures that shaped their mixed com­mu­nity: “Jews demand signs and Greeks desire wis­dom, but we pro­claim Christ cru­ci­fied, a stumbling-​​block to Jews and fool­ish­ness to Gen­tiles” (1 Cor 1:22–23). In each of these cul­tural cir­cles the Corinthi­ans should expect to find dimen­sions that need to be sub­verted by God’s reign. To be sure, I need to be vig­i­lant about the anti-​​Christian mate­ri­al­ism and hedo­nism that per­vade the cul­ture of my birth. In a sim­i­lar way, though, the con­cern with “face” and rep­u­ta­tion in Chi­nese cul­ture can con­flict with Paul’s insis­tence on humil­ity or Jesus’ call to the pow­er­less­ness of a child. So even as we wel­come one another, we need to talk frankly about what dimen­sions of each cul­ture God may want to subvert.

The chal­lenge is to be so immersed in the val­ues of the King­dom that we can rec­og­nize what gen­uinely opposes it. We are not look­ing just for what makes us uncom­fort­able, what feels impi­ous or “unspir­i­tual.” Nei­ther are we crit­i­ciz­ing the other nations from some posi­tion of cul­tural supe­ri­or­ity. We are together allow­ing our cul­tural diver­sity to expose the ways in which all of our native cul­tures frus­trate the bib­li­cal vision of God’s restored Creation.

God’s Cul­tural Mission

What Paul helps us to see is that God’s mis­sion in our world and our com­mu­nity is a cul­tural mis­sion. Cul­tural diver­sity is not neu­tral. It plays a cen­tral part in his work to re-​​make our dis­jointed cos­mos. God is gath­er­ing a peo­ple from every lan­guage, eth­nic­ity, and nation. Just like Paul, our role in that mis­sion will require tak­ing up at least three challenges:

  1. to give up the secu­rity of our own cul­ture, espe­cially when we are in a posi­tion of cul­tural dominance;
  2. to allow the multi-​​cultural life of our churches to trans­form our own faith; and
  3. to reflect crit­i­cally on how God wants to sub­vert the fallen aspects of all our cultures.

These tasks are only pos­si­ble, of course, when we begin to share our lives and our wor­ship with our new neigh­bours. For those of us in Euro-​​centric Cana­dian churches, the ini­tial chal­lenge is to ask “how can we cre­ate a com­mu­nity the nations want to join?” We will not become diverse com­mu­ni­ties sim­ply because we have changed our atti­tudes. It will also require delib­er­ate action, find­ing ways to wel­come these neigh­bours into our homes and into our church. Paul shows us that this is not merely another min­istry, a niche activ­ity to be labelled “eth­nic out­reach.” This cross-​​cultural hos­pi­tal­ity is cen­tral to our being a sign and fore­taste of God’s King­dom, a new peo­ple in which there is no “Jew or Gen­tile,” Euro­pean or African, Tamil or Man­darin, Phillipino or Latin Amer­i­can, Men­non­ite or Russ­ian Ortho­dox or Brazil­ian Pen­te­costal … “for all of us are one in Christ Jesus” (Gal 3:28).

2 Comments

  1. Leo Chan
    avatar

    I recently moved back to Toronto. The ethno demo­graphic land­scape has changed so much for the last twenty years. I was “sur­prised” to meet so many Mid­dle East immi­grants. I lived in Thorn­hill Markham area. Twenty years ago, my neigh­bour­hood was mainly white Cau­casians. Now, three fam­i­lies around our house were from Iran, one from Rus­sia, and only two old neigh­bours were still liv­ing here.

    Another pic­ture I see after mov­ing back is that some old churches in down­town Toronto was con­verted into high class con­do­minium or other com­mer­cial use. Many churches build­ing are empty and they could not be main­tained due to the declin­ing memberships.

    I think Dr. Ian Scott’s arti­cle has a very impor­tant mes­sage to all churches in Canada, more so for those who are in a dom­i­nant West­ern cul­tural posi­tion, that we must see the urgent need to revi­tal­ize our efforts in evan­ge­lism within our own city, but more efforts much be placed to reach the new immi­grants com­ing to this city as they are much more sus­cep­ti­ble to give a spe­cial con­sid­er­a­tions in hear­ing the good news from the native Cana­di­ans if they would wel­come them with sin­cer­ity. The cross cul­tural bar­rier is not easy to be removed, but it must be removed for the sake of the King­dom of God.

    As Dr. Scott has clearly sug­gested, in reach­ing out to the “Gen­tiles”, a mean­ing­ful cul­tural exchange may result in enrich­ing our faith and under­stand­ing of Chris­tian­ity, expos­ing our own weak­nesses in our faith and cul­tures, and more impor­tantly, to bring many more to come to know the Lord that they may never have the chance if they had not come to this country.

    The great influx of new immi­grants to a Chris­t­ian coun­try like Canada is surely a sign that God is work­ing among His peo­ples. It all depends on whether we “see” it or not want­ing to see it, and whether we choose to respond to it or not. We must there­fore put down our cul­tural bar­ri­ers, put on the mis­sion­ary glasses, liv­ing in our own coun­try like we are liv­ing in a for­eign land, do our best to immerse and learn the “new” cul­ture, trans­lat­ing God’s mes­sage of hope and love in a lan­guage and life style that oth­ers can under­stand and accept.

  2. avatar

    Paul’s min­istry demon­strates that the Gospel could be summed up in the com­mand of our Lord to “love one another”.
    In this con­cept of love, every other con­sid­er­a­tion becomes sir­rel­e­vant, includ­ing cul­tural norms.
    Dr Scott wrote a bril­liant essay here, deal­ing with a topic that every Pas­tor grap­ples with, and in fact the entire Cana­dian pop­u­la­tion.
    Given the nature of the Church, we know that we have one option in deal­ing with mul­ti­cul­tural and diverse cul­tures — through the uni­ver­sal lan­guage of the love of Christ, while with wis­dom liv­ing out the Great Com­mis­sion of Matthew 28: to “go to all the world” (which have actu­ally come to us) “and teach them” the Gospel. This Gospel says that the world and its cul­tures are all fallen, as Dr Scott rec­og­nizes, and that sal­va­tion comes out of sin­cere repen­tance of adher­ance to ungodly prac­tices.
    The chal­lenge for Dr Scott in Malvern may be to dis­cern what con­sti­tutes “ungodly” prac­tices within a cul­ture. This I think the Church is quite capa­ble of, given the fact that we rec­og­nize the “hedo­nism” and dehu­man­iz­ing mate­ri­al­ism of our own culture.

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