The Dynamics of Cultural Change (Part Two)

William Edgar

Part Two of Two: The Process of Cultural Transformation

Part 1 is here.

Part of our challenge in looking to effect change is to see the big picture as God reveals it, and then to attempt to measure any results from that perspective. In a Christian understanding, the big picture is Jesus Christ, bringing Jewish and Gentile sheep into the sheepfold in myriad ways (John 10).

Paul solicits the prayers of the Ephesians so that the “manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in heavenly places” (Ephesians 3:10). This is done, first, through the preaching ministry of the church, so that the Gentiles may know “the unsearchable riches of Christ,” bringing the once-hidden light of God’s truth to everyone (Ephesians 3:9).

Second, the wisdom of God is made known whenever and wherever Christians penetrate into society and work patiently, quietly with their hands. The results include changed lives and changed cultures, both in the church and the world. Having become renewed in Christ, believers not only renounce their former ways, but they wisely redeem the time (Ephesians 5:15–16). Marriage is held in honor, children are well nurtured, servants and masters become charitable (see 1 Thessalonians 4:11–12). This occurs in every sphere of society, not just the church.

We cannot always measure this kind of transformation. Sometimes, though, we can look back and track obvious changes that have occurred. For example, Rodney Stark has argued that “the obscure, marginal Jesus movement became a dominant religious force in the Western world in a few centuries.”[1] He gives many instances. One is the church’s witness during dreadful epidemics, such as the “Galen Plague.” In the face of horrendous outbreaks of disease where even the Roman Empire found itself powerless, the church provided three dynamics, foreign to the system of Rome. First, its message gave some meaning to the plague—not that it explained the whys and wherefores, but Christians could understand it as judgment and as part of the will of God. In short, the church gave meaning to the catastrophe. Second, the church provided a network of true brothers and sisters, who were there for one another, and not simply climbing a social ladder. Third, Christians actually went to care for the victims. During times of plague, the infected were often discarded onto trash heaps, but Christian believers would go and rescue them and give them some dignity in dying, often in the process contracting the disease themselves.[2] This truly was a change!

Elitist Assumptions

Contemporary western culture has another cherished assumption, one that carries a large grain of truth. This assumption is that change comes through leadership. Of course, leadership is critical. Constantly in the Bible we find leaders held accountable for their role as prophets, shepherds, teachers, and priests. In the book of James, teachers are held to special account because of their role in the life of a congregation.

Throughout history we know what leaders can represent. Where would the Reformation have been without Martin Luther, John Calvin, and John Knox? More darkly, how far would the Nazi movement have gotten without Hitler and his cronies? And what is Jesus Christ if not a “leader” who sent other leaders into the “fields white unto harvest”?

At the same time, one must watch out for elitist models of leadership. What does that mean? Scholars like Steven Ozment have stressed the crucial participation of lay people in the Reformation movement.[3] And note well how the Bible is extremely critical of the abuse of power by leaders. Leaders can prevent people from having access to liberty. Jesus talks about those who, though they “sit on Moses’ seat” yet “tie up heavy burdens” for their followers, forgetting that “the greatest among you shall be your servant” (Matthew 23:2–11). This passage is not a word against leadership, but against corrupt leadership, but it nevertheless carries a reminder of a proper sort of egalitarianism. “Call no man Father,” the Lord tells his audience in the same passage.

A more subtle kind of elitism is in the maxim that “ideas have consequences.” Of course, stated simply, that is an uncontroversial adage. Yet it is equally clear that there is a social setting into which these ideas arrive. There are flow-lines and social and intellectual structures that actually shape the ideas. Peter Berger and other sociologists of knowledge have reminded us about the “structures of plausibility” represented by institutions and social settings. Marxism, for example, is more plausible to a working class that feels itself abandoned by the church. Networks and support groups help make certain ideas more plausible. This is certainly something positive, no doubt, in God’s plan. William Wilberforce would likely never have had the strength to persevere in his project to abolish slavery and reform British morals were it not for the Clapham Sect, made up of fellow believers and advocates. Today we might call this, rather sheepishly, a support group. Structures of plausibility are far greater than small groups, which lend support to a particular idea. They can be broad and far-reaching. Could we even go so far as to say that “consequences have ideas”?

Yet another kind of elitism is represented by those who narrow the power brokers to one or two groups. This may be difficult to sort through, since, again, there is a grain of truth attached. For example, some claim that the “silver bullet” for cultural change is the “media.” One regularly hears about media bias, and the spin of Hollywood. And the news and entertainment media are enormously influential. Yet one should seriously dispute the greatness of that power. Despite what looks like a left-leaning punditry, the average American often thinks and votes centrist or right-wing. Blaming the media is often, in fact, a rather lazy position. When we disagree, it is easier to pin the responsibility for some trend on media rather than on ordinary people. Many questions remain open. The role of media to affect significant change is still a matter of considerable dispute.[4]

Another candidate for a one-dimensional force in change is the universities. Many would believe that our academies of learning, especially the colleges and graduate schools across various countries, are influential beyond their numerical profile. To be sure, what comes out of Oxford, Harvard, and the Sorbonne will have a certain trickle-down effect on the rest of culture. Yet it is surprising how little various segments of society listen to academics. I say this with regret, being an academic myself! Many observers, like Bryan Caplan, are wondering whether leading leftists, so predominant in many universities, are really reaching down to the ordinary citizen.[5] One reason for this is the lack of entrepreneurial ability among university pundits. They can opine, but can they make anything substantive happen?

(4) A Time for Strategy

If we can aspire to seeing our assumptions with new eyes, we are now ready to discuss strategy. How does change work out in the details?

The kitschy question-slogan of a few years back—WWJD? (What would Jesus do?), is naïve. It is still worthwhile, however, to ask what the wisdom of God might be as we seek to be faithful to his sovereign ways and at the same time look to make inroads culturally. Let me make four suggestions on that front.

(a) First, prayer. We noted above how the apostle Paul solicited the prayers of his constituency in Ephesus for success in evangelism. This is his regular pattern. At the end of 2 Thessalonians, he urges prayer so that the message may spread rapidly and “win the race,” and prayer for protection against the enemies of the gospel of Jesus (3:1–3; see 1 Thessalonians 5:25; Ephesians 6:19). For Peter, it is the same. In view of the end times, says the apostle, it becomes most urgent to stay disciplined and sober, in order to pray (1 Peter 4:7).

This may be hard for us to believe, since we have “blocked” Providence out from our daily understanding, but prayer, to use the old evangelical adage, is not preparation for the battle, it is the battle. In the vision of John the Divine, when the seventh seal is opened, after the silence in heaven, the angel mixes incense with the prayers of the saints, and they rise up to heaven. Then come the judgments on the earth (Revelation 8:3–5). Prayer pleases the Lord. Prayer is integral to our living out our faith in this age. So much so, that Paul and others tell us that God’s Holy Spirit helps us in this battle (Romans 8:26–27). If we want to see change, some of it measurable, much of it not, then we need to pray.

(b) Second, we need to be willing to be agents of change. Often, this means facing humiliation with courage. Os Guinness reflects on the role of the “wilderness” experience of great leaders, which had to be endured before they were permitted recognition. He mentions Solzhenitsyn and Churchill as examples of prophets who went unheeded for a time, but were then called “for such a time as this” and helped make for significant change. He reminds us, too, about their own suffering in the process: “No feature of the unheeded messengers, however, is more common than the link between the brilliance of their perspective and the burden of their pain.”[6]

Often, indeed, true agents of change come somewhat from the outside. At least, they are not always prominent members of the establishment. Along with Guinness we can speculate on whether Martin Luther could have seen the problems of the German church quite so well had he been a cardinal in Rome, or whether the prophet Amos could have been as effective had he been a recognized northerner, rather than a southern sheepherder. It is important to remember in this context that such prophets are not always alone. Often, agents of change are parts of networks that provide an active support base, as we have seen.

(c) Another important consideration is that change often occurs when there is a group of people who know their need, who are ready to move—a group just waiting to be galvanized into action by a dislocating crisis or a creative idea. Above, we criticized the notion of elitist leadership, qualified by stressing the importance of a network, a support group. Here, we can go further. Empirically, it can be argued that good news often effects true change when an ignored or oppressed people are reached with a liberating message.

A modern parallel will have to suffice. Consider how the long cane was invented for use by blind people.[7] After World War II a group of blind veterans, often quite healthy and vigorous, found that little rehabilitation had been planned for them. So they petitioned their commanding general. He called on Dr. Richard Hoover, a kind of “outsider” who had hitherto only worked as a physical education instructor. Hoover recognized that these blind veterans did not need physical support; they needed a tool, a guide for use in travel and getting around. So he invented the long cane. Further, since he could see, Hoover challenged the older notion that only the blind could teach the blind. All this occurred because a “prophetic outsider” came to a group of blind veterans who were waiting for such a change—and in the midst of a crisis of inattention.

(d) Finally, it’s all about timing. Or, I should say, timing with faithfulness. Being in the right place and at the right time is never quite up to us. Yet it is critical to believe that whatever our calling, whether as individuals or in groups, there is a right way to move forward. Every institution, not just the church, is governed by norms. For the Christian those norms are rooted in Scripture, vetted by a long and rigorous theological tradition, and enlivened by a robust discourse about their current implications. Discovering those and then acting faithfully to obey those norms is the humble task of believers everywhere. Whether we see great transformations or whether we must simply be content to have a clear conscience, we must be quietly faithful.

We are in the delicate position of being responsible for change and yet not having the final authority to effect it. This is the single most important lesson I have learned in my more than forty years of walking with the Lord. Go out and do all you can to bring about change. But do it, as it were, with a light hand, knowing it is God “at work to will and to do.” And so, always look up to see the Lord bring change in his own way and in his own time.

We cannot and must not try to program the sovereign Lord, but biblical wisdom is available to us for seeking change. The good changes in which we may be participants today are the already of the already/not-yet of the gospel. And when the mystery of creation unfolds to its final chapter, we will know the fullness of the most marvelous change of all, the resurrection.

“Behold!” says Paul, “I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet” (1 Corinthians 15:51–52). Will it not be utterly enthralling to see what sorts of changes God had in mind all along?  

William Edgar, a Senior Fellow of The Trinity Forum, is professor of apologetics at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. The first part of this essay talks about the dynamics of cultural transformation and the cultural assumptions we need to overcome.

1 Responses (comments are closed) • Features, Leadership, Society, Thu 09 Nov 2006