Mystify, Mystify Me

As promised, I am beginning a series of responses to John Frame's review of my book, Dual Citizens: Worship and Life between the Already and Not Yet (which you should totally buy, because of how awesome it is). I am not promising to respond to everything Frame says, it will just depend on how things go. If you haven't noticed, I'm kind of sick and tired of fighting with everyone all the time.

First, I'd like to express my sincere thanks to Frame for calling me a "gifted communicator" whose book is "similar to Horton's popular works" (The Escondido Theology, p. 283) I take both statements as compliments.

Frame then seeks to use my communicative skills against me, however, by saying (after pointing out that I open most chapters with an illustration to draw the reader in):

"One might almost suppose that Stellman is trying to make his theology 'relevant,' though he assures us again and again (as Horton does) that relevance is anathema (pp. 15, 17-28). Here he mystifies critical students of the movement as to what the Escondido theologians mean by 'relevance.'"

Before we attempt to peel back the layers of my mysticism we must first remind ourselves of one of the tenets of Escondido Theology according to Frame: "It is wrong to try to make the gospel relevant to its hearers." If this is one of my cardinal rules, Frame asks, then how can I possibly illustrate something without betraying my theology?

Let's take a look at the sections of my book that Frame adduces as evidence for my "anathemization" of relevance. Judging from the pages he listed, he certainly had passages like this in mind:

"The church and its members must not seek the world's approval by providing programs that pander to people's need to feel popular and appreciated. The 'more relevant than thou' approach to ministry may fill churches, but often at the expense of the cross and all its glorious foolishness and shame" (p. 15).

"When we, rather than Scripture, determine what is relevant, we make ourselves the central axis of the universe around which all things--including God--must revolve. Hence, any semblance of Christian oddity and peculiarity is sacrificed on the altar of relevance during church on Sunday, the one time above all others when such oddity and peculiarity should be celebrated. Karl Barth's complaint about the liberalism of his own day rings equally true in our own: 'God' is often reduced to 'MAN!' said in a loud voice. 'Alas,' lament Hauerwas and Willimon, 'in leaning over to speak to the modern world, we have fallen in'" (p. 25).

Now, I hope that most discerning readers can see that what I am attacking is not the attempt to make oneself understood, but rather, the attempt to lessen the cross's offense toward unbelievers in corporate worship by avoiding any expressions of our faith that would look strange to the world. In other words, what I am saying is that we should not let the enemies of Christ define relevance and expect us to fall in line, but instead we should realize that the message we proclaim is the most relevant message imaginable since it cuts right to the heart of the matter, namely, sin and salvation from it.

It seems to me that whether one agrees with me or not, understanding what I am trying to say isn't all that difficult for those who put forth a little effort. For Frame to begin with the thesis that all Escondido theologians consider it "wrong" to make the gospel relevant, and then to act "mystified" when I begin my chapters with stories or illustrations, is nothing more than sophistry (especially since I go on to define quite clearly what it is I am arguing against under the guise of relevance).

In sum, the only reason why I should "mystify" anyone is if they refuse to try to understand me on my own terms and instead insist on imputing to me positions I clearly repudiate, thus putting the worst possible gloss on everything I say.