A Review of Scot McKnight’s Kingdom Conspiracy

I recently read Scot McKnight’s very fine book, Kingdom Conspiracy: Returning to the Radical Mission of the Local Church (Brazos, 2014), in which he discusses the New Testament’s presentation of the kingdom of God and its relevance for the church today.  In doing this, McKnight provides an especially important description of the missionary dimension of God’s kingdom.

McKnight argues, correctly in my view, that “kingdom work” (as many are prone to say nowadays) is always centered within the Christian church.  Then, from within the body of Christ, kingdom ministry radiates outward into the surrounding society and the rest of the world (see especially chapter 7, “Kingdom Mission is Church Mission”).

But, he warns, if Christian social activism is not an extension of the local church’s gospel teaching, fellowship, ministry and shared experience, then it is not kingdom work.  It may be laudable social and political work, but it has nothing to do with the kingdom of God.  “This means all true kingdom mission is church mission” (96).

McKnight’s church-centered understanding of God’s kingdom is pivotal to his argument.  On this point, Prof. McKnight and I are in agreement.

But McKnight’s laser-like focus on the local church also accounts for the book’s central mistake.  For he defines the kingdom and the church as synonymous with each other.  The kingdom of God IS the church, and the church IS the kingdom of God. (Beginning with chapter 5, “Kingdom is People” and passim).

This is where Prof. McKnight and I must part company.

Anyone who has read my book, I Pledge Allegiance: A Believer’s Guide to Kingdom Citizenship in 21st-Century America, will observe the similarity between McKnight’s emphasis on the missional dimension of God’s kingdom and my own.  But my readers will also recall my insistence that the church is best understood as the citizenry of God’s kingdom, not the kingdom itself.

 

It is unfortunate that Prof. McKnight’s concern for tightening the connection between church and kingdom leads him to such an extreme. I say “unfortunate” because I don’t believe that he is any more comfortable with his identification of church with kingdom than I am.

There are numerous places throughout Kingdom Conspiracy where McKnight slips alternative definitions into the mix without acknowledging that he has just changed the terms of his discussion.  In other words, he masks the limitations of his explicit definition of kingdom by implicitly expanding that definition when his argument demands it.

For example, he sometimes notes that a kingdom “implies a king, a rule, a people, a land, and a law” (76, 159, 205).  So, the kingdom is not synonymous with people alone, after all.  It is more complex.

He also teasingly refers to “the important overlap of kingdom and church” (95), without noting that an overlap is not the same as an identity.  We are left with a suggestion that God’s kingdom overlaps with something more than people.

At one point, he resorts to the very language that he had previously criticized and rejected, referring to “the kingdom as the realm of redemption” (114).  Elsewhere he repeats that the word kingdom asserts “God’s dynamic rule” (126), the more widely held view that I endorse.

McKnight also notes that God’s kingdom brings redemption, and this redemption is “cosmic” in scope (151-52, 156, 159); that is, it includes a great deal in addition to human beings.  The kingdom of God also involves Christ’s subjugation of “principalities and powers” as well as the imminent redemption of all creation.

Finally, Prof. McKnight frequently lapses into my preferred terminology:  Christians are described as the citizens of God’s kingdom (75, 76, 99, 111, 155, 157, 164, 207).  Which, in my view, is the proper way to explain the New Testament’s perspective on God’s kingdom rule and its relationship to the people of God.

Think for a moment of what it means to live in the United States.  We the people are not synonymous with all that is America.  We are citizens of this country, but the people and the nation are not identical or coextensive.  America is as much (if not more) an idea; an idea about liberty with a specific history; a projection of power and influence as much as it is a particular population.

McKnight is forced into using this rhetorical sleight of hand because his preferred definition, identifying the kingdom exclusively with the church, simply does not comport with the full spectrum of Biblical evidence.

Am I quibbling over a minor issue?  I don’t think so.

Both Prof. McKnight and I would agree that it is important to understand the answers to Biblical questions accurately.  Thus, it is also important to understand that God’s kingdom rule is not confined only to the church.

God’s reign is working its way throughout all of history, although we may not always be able to explain exactly where and how that is happening. God’s ways are rarely self-evident.  Although church work certainly lies at the heart of kingdom work, for redeeming sinful folks like us is at the heart of Jesus’ mission, God’s kingdom is much bigger than any of us.

God rules victoriously and will one day be glorified, not only by the church, but by angels, demons, principalities, powers, and all things above the earth and below.  These spiritual powers now tremble at the knowledge of their ultimate defeat.

The kingdom of God is our heavenly Father’s redemptive reign, His saving sovereignty, now being established over all creation.  Believers are privileged to become citizens of that victorious kingdom, but our citizenship is evidence and a partial product (central and vital, but not the whole) of Christ’s reign.

I suspect that the heavenly host of innumerable cherubim and seraphim, the legions of fallen angels, as well as the new heavens and the new earth, including the redeemed supernovae, unseen galaxies, black holes and dark matter will one day loudly object to the ecclesiastical hubris which suggests that God’s kingdom involves only the church.

Gerson (1) vs. McKnight (0)

Michael Gerson, a Wheaton College graduate and former speech-writer for President George W. Bush, has written a very good article in The Atlantic magazine (April 28th issue) entitled “The Last Temptation.”

Gerson offers a valuable critique of both (1) the damaging Faustian bargain American evangelicals have made with the Republican party, and (2) the (now forgotten) history of 19th century evangelical social/justice activism.

Gerson laments the ephemeral, and largely reactionary, nature of evangelical social action today.  He says, rightly I think, that “[evangelicalism] lacks a model or ideal of political engagement—an organizing theory of social action…[in contrast to Roman Catholicism which] developed a coherent, comprehensive tradition of social and political reflection.”

Curiously, Scott McKnight responded to Gerson with a critical post at his blog Jesus Creed. The post is called “What Gerson Got Seriously Wrong.” McKnight begins by calling Gerson’s arguments “belabored” and “tired.”  But he takes particular offense at Gerson’s comparison of evangelical and Catholic understandings of social activism.  McKnight insists that evangelicals indeed DO have “an organizing theory of social action.” It can be found in the writings of Francis Schaeffer, who was embodying the political theology of Dutch theologian/politician, Abraham Kuyper.

But Gerson is right and McKnight is mistaken.

Let me note a few points:

First, McKnight’s arguments strike me as an odd example of straining at gnats – and bogus gnats, at that – while swallowing camels.  He focuses on a small part of Gerson’s critique while ignoring the greater substance of his article. Why the lucid restatement of a case that begs for frequent repetition should be called belabored and tired, is beyond me.

Second, McKnight’s reference to Kuyper and his American, evangelical

legacy actually underscores the oddity of McKnight’s defensiveness.

To begin with, Kuyper’s name and legacy is not widely known throughout American evangelicalism.  In fact, McKnight covertly admits as much himself.  For Kuyper’s programmatic book, _Lectures on Calvinism_, was not the book being assigned as required reading for Wheaton students when Gerson was there.  Rather, the assigned text was Niebuhr’s _Christ and Culture_.

The reason for this was simple. Kuyper’s work had minimal influence in this country beyond the Dutch Reformed church.

For McKnight to lift up Francis Schaeffer as the emissary of Kuyper’s social/political theology – a system that does indeed offer a positive alternative to the reactionary, negative politics practiced by evangelicals today – is simply not true.

Francis Schaeffer was the faithful disciple of Cornelius Van Til, not Abraham Kuyper.  Van Til is best remembered for his presuppositional epistemology.  Van Til insisted that, since Christians and non-Christians do not share the same presuppositions about life, it is impossible for us all to share in the same goals.   Schaeffer’s oppositional, us/them mentality bleeds through almost every page of his writings.

Actually, Schaeffer’s main contribution to evangelical political engagement was his laser-like focus on opposing abortion.

And, in my opinion, Gerson is absolutely correct when he includes evangelical anti-abortion folks – Schaeffer’s activist children and grandchildren – as among the most reactionary, negative, self-pitying Christian forces today.  It was Francis Schaeffer, not Abraham Kuyper, who expressed a social/political world-view that started American evangelicalism’s journey down the road of unethical, accomodationist, anti-gospel political expediency that we find ourselves traveling today.

Finally, Gerson highlights some crucial problems with today’s evangelicals.  His historical survey is an important reminder of where our evangelical roots truly lie. It should be applauded and disseminated widely. Professor McKnight’s complaints, however, are petty in comparison to the task now facing the American church, as described by Gerson.