Anti-intellectualism No Answer to Dead Orthodoxy

"At many times in history, Christians reacted against academic versions of theology that deaden life. Examples like the Great Awakenings, the rise of Pietism, Kierkegaard's rejection of state Lutheranism, and the charismatic renewals come to mind. Too often, evangelicals today replace dead orthodoxy with anti-intellectual activism or moralism rather than with theologically vital spirituality. The model of piety valued most among evangelicals typically stresses inward moral holiness and outward Christian service set in opposition to reflective thought.

"...Indeed, the church cannot avoid theology in seeking to fulfill its mission. Though some think they can suspend theology, avoid the academic stratosphere, and achieve practical relevance, they succeed only in replacing a well-considered theology with a hodgepodge of theological scraps randomly interlaced with cultural ideas." - David Clark, To Know and Love God: Method for Theology, pp. 208-209.

Technorati Tags: David Clark theology Christianity anti-intellectualism evangelicalism

What God Has Joined: More on Head and Heart

Well, I told you it wouldn't be easy letting go of the "18 inches between head and heart" thing. Two of my friends have weighed in on the matter in comments but I think the subject is so important I wanted to bring it to the surface here.

Byron said:

Allow me to protest a tad, Keith; I think that it all depends upon what you mean when you speak of a head/heart dichotomy. I use this analogy---hey, maybe I need to give it up---but I think that the way I intend it to be understood isn't necessarily at variance with your point. When I speak of "head", I'm speaking of mere intellectual assent, as opposed to "heart", signifying not so much an opposition to head as a trust in , a commitment to, an obedience in, those things which the "head" rightly understands. In my understanding, then, I wouldn't speak of a head/heart dichotomy, as though the two were opposed in some either/or scenario, so much as I'd think of "heart belief" involving a commitment to, a fulfillment of, those things to which the "head" mentally assents. 'Zat make sense?

Yes, that does make sense. What Byron wants to make clear is that knowledge, assent, and trust are essential to biblical faith. With that I'm in full agreement. I think, however, that there are more biblical ways of communicating that concern than by making a head/heart distinction. For example, James warns us against deceiving ourselves by only hearing the word and not doing it (James 1:22). 


The critical issue is, as Byron noted, one of obedience to that which I assent to and obedience originates in the heart. Paul, for example, is grateful to God that the Roman Christians became "obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which [they] were committed" (Romans 6:17). Throughout the Bible, belief and obedience are intertwined and, at times, used interchangeably. In John's gospel, believing in the Son is contrasted with disobeying Him (3:36). According to Psalm 78, the Israelites in the wilderness "did not believe in God and did not trust his saving power" (v. 22). Again, belief, trust, and obedience are in mind. What was the cause of their unbelief, lack of trust, and disobedience? The answer is given in verse 8. They were "a generation whose heart was not steadfast, whose spirit was not faithful to God." (I take this to be an instance of poetic parallelism demonstrating that heart and spirit are different ways of referring to the same thing.)

I'm a firm believer that we should allow the Scriptures to guide us in our use of biblical terms and concepts. It's much too easy to fall into using biblical vocabulary in unbiblical ways thereby changing its meaning.  A few days ago I picked up Marva Dawn's new book, Talking the Walk, in which she examines a number of key words in biblical faith whose meanings have become distorted or ignored. Dawn, who was an English literature major and teacher, writes in the introduction: "...I am solemnly concerned about the corruption of words in contemporary Christian faith. When we speak bad theology, we live badly theologically. When our theologians and pastors and communities reject or abuse significant words in the heritage of faith, our Christianity is reduced or decimated." Though "heart" is not one of the words she investigates, I think it has been corrupted by being torn from its canonical context.

As Jerry (read with open eyes) pointed out in his comment, the Bible does not ascribe intellectual activity to one part of a person while assigning trust to the heart. I understand that Byron doesn't intend to convey a dichotomy between the heart and head when he speaks of the 18 inches between them, but I think that such language, no matter how well-intended, distances people from a biblical perspective on the unity of the person. 


Another problem is that in our setting people are prone to associate "heart" primarily (if not exclusively) with the emotions. Distinguishing between "head knowledge" and "heart knowledge," and implying that the latter is superior to the former, can also serve to perpetuate and strengthen the misconception that reason, education, and intellectual rigor are inimical to Christian spirituality.

Head and Heart

Les Newsom at Common Grounds Online wonders if he's the only one who hated hearing at every youth retreat he attended that the 18 inches between his head and heart were what was keeping him from being a committed Christian. I didn't become a believer until I was 19 so I missed out on the youth retreats. But I hear that kind of thinking from adults (who may have been at the same retreats as Les) and I hate it now (see yesterday's post).

While I don't share Les's conviction that substance dualism (recognizing a distinction between soul and body) is ultimately to blame for the pitting of head and heart against each other, I'm in wholehearted agreement with his contention that the head/heart dichotomy has no biblical warrant. Les writes:

...any good exegete of Scripture will tell you that the Bible’s understanding of the “inner zones” of humanity centers on the conception of the “heart.” In Scripture, the “heart” houses not just the feelings, but all of life. My thinking, my feelings, my believing, my committing, my loving: it all proceeds from the heart. Proverbs 4:23 comes to mind, “Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.”

The head/heart dichotomy is so popular among Christians that it's unlikely that we'll let go of it easily. But Les points out the advantages of doing so:

Leaving the head/heart dichotomy as an apparatus to think about my inner life reorganizes the priorities of Christian self-discipline, helps keeps first things first, and gets me off the hopeless treadmill of trying to figure out if I feel like a Christian today.

Related Tags: Biblical anthropology, Christianity, Anti-intellectualism, Theology, Dualism

How to be a Constructive Influence in an Anti-Intellectual Church

Greg Koukl has some very helpful advice for believers in churches that don't see the importance of cultivating clear thinking. Don't grumble. Be a patient, exemplary, and strategic part of the solution.

The Other CIA

After partaking in light refreshments, the members took their seats in a large circle. The group consisted of Christians from many of the churches in the area. Every time the door to the room in which they were meeting opened, conversation halted and eyes turned nervously in that direction. Would they be found out? What would other believers think if they knew what the members of this group had in common? "Unspiritual" and "impractical" were charges leveled against most of the group's members. Many of them knew the hurt of being prematurely judged as arrogant or, as it was more commonly put, "puffed up," so they tried to hide their mutual condition until they felt it was safe. Panic turned to relief when familiar faces appeared.

Steve, one of the regulars, arrived with a guest, a friend from work named Evan. Evan didn't know what to expect and had come with apprehension. Steve had told him about the group many times before, urging him to check it out as he thought he would benefit from it. Evan had consistently declined the invitations, politely insisting that he didn't have the same problem as the others in the group. Many nights when he couldn't sleep, he'd read the flier Steve had given him that explained why and for whom the group existed. It contained the following excerpt from Cliff Williams' book, The Life of the Mind: A Christian Perspective:

People who engage in the life of the mind - those who think and learn - read, visit libraries, buy books, explore new topics, talk to others about what they are thinking, listen to lectures, and join discussion groups. They like ideas. And they like talking about ideas. What fascinates them is a new discovery, an old classic, the thoughts of an astute observer of human nature, or research into how things work. They like to learn, and they like being with others who like to learn.

Christians who think and learn participate in these same activities and have these same interests. They, too, read and explore. They want knowledge, both of topics that are directly connected to Christian concerns and those that are not. And they like talking with others about what they learn. If you were to ask them what their life passions are, they would mention reading, thinking, and talking about ideas, including Christian ideas (p. 15).

One night, after reading the description, the walls of denial came tumbling down. "That's me! That's me!" Evan thought to himself, tears welling in his eyes. The next day he told Steve he'd like to go with him to the next meeting, an announcement Steve was excited to hear.

"I see you have a guest with you tonight, Steve," the leader said.
"Yes, this is a friend of mine from work. His name is Evan."
"Welcome, Evan. We're glad to have you with us. Would you like to tell us why you came?"
Evan seriously considered answering "No" but knew that he'd regret it if he let the opportunity pass. He had to face the truth. Nervously he stood as all eyes in the circle were turned on him. "Hi," he started. "Well, like Steve said, my name is Evan......and I'm a Christian intellectual..."

For years I've imagined such meetings of Christian Intellectuals Anonymous, only with myself as the confessor. I frequently felt ashamed of my cognitive leanings. Christians who enjoy thinking and consider it a vital part of what it means to follow Christ are often stigmatized. In some Christian circles, "intellectual" is a pejorative. Reason, study, and learning are regarded with suspicion as though inherently antagonistic to Christian faith. I was reminded of this anti-intellectual trend this past weekend by the following paragraph in Al Mohler's review of Brian McLaren's A Generous Orthodoxy:

McLaren is also honest about the fact that he lacks any formal theological education. As a matter of fact, he seems rather proud of this fact, insinuating that formal theological education is likely to trap persons in a habit of trying to determine right belief.

Haughtiness is a temptation against which every believer, regardless of his or her level of education, must be on guard. Poverty, whether material or intellectual, is no more cause for boasting than is wealth.


Reflecting on this subject made me recall having read of a note given to John Wesley by another evangelist. It read: "The Lord has told me to tell you that He doesn't need your book learning, your Greek and Hebrew" to which Wesley replied:

Thank you sir. Your letter was superfluous, as I already knew the Lord has no need of my 'book learning' as you put it. However, although the Lord has not directed me to say so, on my own responsibility I would like to say, the Lord does not need your ignorance either.

In Habits of the Mind: Intellectual Life as a Christian Calling, James Sire defines an intellectual as one:

...who loves ideas, is dedicated to clarifying them, developing them, criticizing them, turning them over and over, seeing their implications, stacking them atop one another, arranging them, sitting silent while new ideas pop up and old ones seem to rearrange themselves, playing with them, punning with their terminology, laughing at them, watching them clash, picking up the pieces, starting over, judging them, withholding judgment about them, changing them, bringing them into contact with their counterparts in other systems of thought, inviting them to dine and have a ball but also suiting them for service in workaday life (pp. 27-28).

"A Christian intellectual," he adds, "is all of the above to the glory of God."

Christian intellectuals don't belong in a recovery group but in churches, homes, classrooms, boardrooms, offices, studios, stages, and all facets of society. As Nancy Pearcey reminds us in her excellent book Total Truth: "A religion that avoids the intellectual task and retreats to the therapeutic realm of personal relationships and feelings will not survive in today's spiritual battlefield." So if you're in "the other CIA," come out. We need you.