A response to Aaron Renn’s “The Problem with the Evangelical Elite”

The problem with wanting to be a Christian elite is that there is no such thing. Not, at least, in the sense Mr. Renn is pursuing the idea.

It is not that his pursuit is not compelling. On the contrary, in his usual pragmatic fashion he goes through a sincere and systematic examination of the people who sit in the halls of power in our country, and asks the obvious question of why as Gospel-focused Christians we are as a group not largely represented in them. Catholics and liberals enjoy larger-than-life manifestation among the rulers of the Gentiles, he observes; why not evangelicals? He goes through some possible reasons for this: 1) We do not even understand the meaning of the word “elite,” since we tend to elevate pastors and theologians at the expense of other professions; 2) we tend to be suspicious of intellectualism and institutions; 3) our tradition has a dearth of development in natural law from which we tend to a deep suspicion of power itself; 4) our denominations tend to align with our society’s socioeconomic stratification in ties we believe are too strong for us to transcend without losing our doctrinal moorings; 5) the downfall in our nation of white Anglo-Saxon Protestant leadership which has robbed us of our “elite center” as he puts it. All perfectly plausible and hard to disagree with. And who among us does not feel a twinge when reading them? Every one of us by nature wants to be in the ascension, to be one of the cool kids, to have a seat in the smoke-filled room.

In this desire we are certainly not alone. As Protestants we hold the Scriptures to be our only rule for faith and practice, and it is for conversations just such as these that we do. In Mark 10 we are told the story of how James and John, the sons of Zebedee, approached Jesus with a unique request: To be granted to sit at His right hand and at His left, in glory. Was this wrong for them to want? Surely not, for the Lord did not rebuke them. Instead He gently said, “You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized?” To which they responded in the affirmative, not usually a good idea when the Christ poses a question so supremely rhetorical that to try to answer it is within itself the wrong answer. But still He answered with gentleness: “The cup that I drink you will drink, and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized, but to sit at My right hand or at My left is not mine to give, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared.” The humility of Christ here is instructional, for instead of rebuking them He moves to frame the answer to their question in its proper sphere: The sphere of the spiritual world.

The spiritual world. A place of which thrones and dominations and principalities and powers know nothing. A place where the name of Caesar carries no more weight than that of Lazarus, the poor man who was carried to Abraham’s side when he died. A place where as my friend and teaching elder Chris Hutchinson correctly insists, the way up is the way down. A place where the last shall be first, and the first last. A Kingdom that is not of this world, a City with foundations whose designer and builder is God, a House not built with human hands.

That Mr. Renn does not consort to any Scripture (at all) in his examination of the question he raises is indicative of the reason why he does not find a good answer to it. If he had, he would have come up with a great host of witnesses to give testimony to the fact that the term “Christian elite” is in itself oxymoronic, who in proclaiming with their life and death the conviction of things not seen have received the commendation of God. He would have noted Abel, who offered a true sacrifice in keeping with God’s Law, and who by his faith still speaks though he died for it. He would have noted Enoch, who was taken up so that he should not see death, because he had pleased God with his life. He would have noted Noah, who in reverent fear constructed an ark for the saving of his household, condemning the world (and all the elites who ruled it) and becoming an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith. He would have noted Abraham, the very father of our faith, who went to live in a foreign land in tents, among danger and deprivation and loss, who along with his wife considered Him faithful who had promised, and to whom were thus born descendants as many as the stars of Heaven and the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore. Abraham who by faith offered up Isaac, considering that God was able to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive Isaac back, in one of the truest pictures of the Atonement in all of the Old Testament.

Mr. Renn would have noted Isaac invoking future blessings on Jacob and Esau, the covenant love of God for His people and the covenant hatred of God for those who despise eternal life and call down punishment on their own head instead of accepting His sacrifice. He would have noted Jacob, who having been rescued from his human nature of lies and manipulation, spoke the true words of prophecy from God Himself on the twelve tribes of Israel as he bowed in worship over the head of his staff. He would have noted Joseph who although he became one of the greatest political elites in the history of God’s people, made sure to give instructions for his bones to go with the people of God when they went on exodus.

Mr. Renn would have noted Moses, the examination of whose life could by itself have sufficiently answered the question of what it is that Christ has to do with Belial, or that Christians have to do with the halls of power. Moses who was hidden from the king’s edict by his parents. Moses who by faith when he was grown up refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, that is, to be called an elite, but chose rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. Moses who considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. Moses who left Egypt and the world of all its elites that could have been his, not fearing the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing Him who is invisible. Moses who by faith kept the Passover and sprinkled the blood, so that the Destroyer of the firstborn might not touch the people of God.

And if Mr. Renn had noted Moses who was faithful as a servant in God’s house, would he have then failed to note Jesus Christ, faithful as a Son? Should the house have more glory than its Builder? Jesus who though He was rich, yet for our sake He became poor, so that we by His poverty might become rich? Jesus who refused His disciples’ requests to restore the kingdom to Israel? Jesus who refused the crowds’ requests that He should allow them to make Him king? Jesus who set His face like a flint toward a rough cross on a lonely hill, with the inscription “King of the Jews” written on it? For what, then, did Christ refuse not only to pursue being an elite, but even to accept being made an elite of this world?

It was for our salvation. To put a finer point on it, it was for this very (ironically eponymous) focus on “evangelism” that Mr. Renn laments as still being found at the center of American evangelicalism, which if it is true, remains one of the few bright spots to be found in our religious tradition for which we will be eternally commended. Sharing the Gospel, teaching the Bible, living faithful lives day by day, turning away from sin, confronting each other with the truth of the Word, the foolishness of preaching, engaging in the true worship of God instead of the false worship of our culture, loving each other sacrificially, longing for His coming. In short, following the example of Jesus Christ Himself.

Does this mean we will never be found among the elites of this world? Certainly not. Again Scripture informs us with the shining examples of Joseph, Daniel, Lydia, and St. Paul himself. But like all the rest of us they were in the world, not of the world. Joseph who used his power to care for the people of God, not to enrich himself. Daniel who obeyed the king up until the moment when the king commanded him to worship another god, and in that moment his disobedience was swift and unconditional. Lydia whose heart was opened to the Gospel and who then opened her house to that same Gospel ministry. St. Paul who established his claim among the elite of the world and of confidence in the flesh with his panoply of eighth-day circumcision, his inclusion in the Israel of the flesh, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews, as to the law a Pharisee, as to zeal a persecutor of the Church, as to righteousness under the Law blameless. St. Paul who then set aside all his learning and status as one of the foremost intellectuals of his day, yea even of his age, to preach the simple yet profound message of Christ crucified. St. Paul who declared his whole entire status as an elite and an intellectual to be counted as loss – all as loss! – because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus his Lord.

Have you ever wondered, Aaron, why Protestants tend only to elevate our theologians and pastors? It is not because we worship them, nor is it for lack of understanding of the manmade clergy-laity divide that has plagued the Catholic church for so many hundreds of years and kept so many from the knowledge of salvation. We are acutely aware of the historic proclivity of the Roman Catholic church to cleave to the trappings and the wealth of this world instead of seeking treasure in Heaven. We are not willing to change our message to try to persuade those with high ambitions not to fall into the error of Demas and convert to Catholicism for the sake of their upward mobility and political gain. But as Luther we hold that the milkmaid who milks cows to the glory of God has equal standing with the divinity doctors at the Cross. At the command of the Scriptures we give double honor to those who are faithful in preaching and teaching this Gospel on which we all stand. And those faithful preachers, who like the nameless brother in 2 Corinthians 8:18 have humbly received their honor, what have they done with it? They have not gone into the halls of power, as your analysis reveals. They have laid it at the foot of the Cross; and one Day it will be given back to them a hundredfold. And ours is the same hope as theirs.

To pursue being an elite is not the calling of the Christian, nor will it ever be. One of my favorite reads by CS Lewis (and, I believe, one of his most underrated) is The Great Divorce. In it George MacDonald as his Dante-like guide is talking about how in the Christian Biblical tradition the last indeed shall be first; a concept I readily confess I have as much trouble believing as does Mr. Renn. They observe a procession with a lady who is being ushered with triumph into the spiritual world, and Lewis is overcome. “Is it?… is it?” he whispers at her unbearable beauty. “Not at all,” the guide answers. “It’s someone ye’ll never have heard of. Her name on earth was Sarah Smith, and she lived at Golders Green.” And when Lewis still wonders at the pomp and celebration that attend the entrance of the faithful saint unknown to the world, MacDonald chides him, “Haven’t ye read your Milton? A thousand liveried angels lackey her.“

There is no memento mori that need be uttered at this Heavenly procession, nor will there be any end to its glory. Earthly fame and power will like mist over the water dissipate and pass away, and along with it all the names of the rich and powerful in this world, with all its elite milieux. For our part we have taken our stand with a different set of names: With Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, St. Paul, and even with our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. We have not pursued such power or preference as our hearts once desired for ourselves, for when we did, the Lord answered us truly: “It is not Mine to give.” But the company we find ourselves in is one characterized by faith from first to last, and it is one of whom the world with all its elites is not worthy. For consider your calling, brothers: Not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even those things that are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”

Jeremy Vogan
Staunton, Virginia

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