To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy, and Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World

by James Davison Hunter

The call to make the world a better place is inherent in the Christian belief and practice. But why have efforts to change the world by Christians so often failed or gone tragically awry? And how might Christians in the 21st century live in ways that have integrity with their traditions and are more truly transformative? In To Change the World, James Davison Hunter offers persuasive—and provocative—answers to these questions.

Hunter begins with a penetrating appraisal of the most popular models of world-changing among Christians today, highlighting the ways they are inherently flawed and therefore incapable of generating the change to which they aspire. Because change implies power, all Christian eventually embrace strategies of political engagement. Hunter offers a trenchant critique of the political theologies of the Christian Right and Left and the Neo-Anabaptists, taking on many respected leaders, from Charles Colson to Jim Wallis and Stanley Hauerwas. Hunter argues that all too often these political theologies worsen the very problems they are designed to solve. What is really needed is a different paradigm of Christian engagement with the world, one that Hunter calls "faithful presence"—an ideal of Christian practice that is not only individual but institutional; a model that plays out not only in all relationships but in our work and all spheres of social life. He offers real-life examples, large and small, of what can be accomplished through the practice of "faithful presence." Such practices will be more fruitful, Hunter argues, more exemplary, and more deeply transfiguring than any more overtly ambitious attempts can ever be.

Written with keen insight, deep faith, and profound historical grasp, To Change the World will forever change the way Christians view and talk about their role in the modern world.

Genres: Theology, Cultural, Politics, Christian, Religion, Nonfiction, Christianity

368 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2010

About the author

James Davison Hunter is the Labrosse-Levinson Distinguished Professor of Religion, Culture, and Social Theory at the University of Virginia and Executive Director of the Institute for Advanced Studies in Culture.

Reviews

[Aberdeen · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read most of this for school and just finished the parts I didn't get to this week. I started to write a review and it turned into a giant essay, so buckle in if you really want a summary. In short—a must-read for anyone interested in Christianity and culture/art/politics/the modern era.

4.5 stars

~

This book has a fascinating arc. It's split into three essays. The first, “Christianity and World-changing,” pushes against the common conception of how to change the world: change individual people's worldviews, ideas, minds. Hunter's main argument is that this strategy has simply not worked. It is based on the idea that the majority mindset dominates culture, but this isn't true. He points to examples of minority cultures wielding outsize influence, like the impact of Jews on the West. Consider also the gap between the views of the extreme liberal elite, which tend to drive the most powerful media, and the more nuanced, centrist views of most Americans.

Hunter then offers eleven propositions on culture. The most illuminating to me were a) the differentiation between the “center” and “periphery” in cultural influence (i.e., there is a center of cultural power and what you create has influence based on how close you are to it) and b) his emphasis on culture being “generated within networks”—it's not so much about the individual as it is communities of people creating things together. Probably his most controversial claim is that culture is changed from the top down, not bottom up.

[The work of world-making and world-changing are, by and large, the work of elites: gatekeepers who provide creative direction and management within spheres of social life. … Culture is about how societies define reality—what is good, bad, right, wrong, real, unreal, important, unimportant, and so on. This capacity is not evenly distributed in society, but is concentrated in certain institutions and among certain leadership groups who have a lopsided access to the means of cultural productions.

Basically, he argues that “the nature of culture is as much institutional as it is ideational” and “it unfolds along convoluted, contested, and contingent dynamics”—there isn't a straight line, usually, from something I do to the change I want. Understanding the communal nature of culture and how it is connected to power is important. It is precisely this that Hunter thinks modern American Christians do not understand.

He ends this first essay with a wonderful critique of how Christianity has interacted with American culture in the past century—I underlined so much here. Some quotes:

“There is little taste for ‘high culture’ especially in Evangelicalism, where the tendency has long been toward translation—making things accessible to the largest number of people. … The main reason why Christian believers today (from various communities) have not had the influence in the culture to which they have aspired is not because they don't believe enough, or try hard enough, or care enough, or think Christianly enough, or have the right worldview, but rather because they have been absent from the arenas in which the greatest influence and culture is exerted. … Its cultural capital is greatest where leverage in the larger culture is weakest.”

Christians who do operate in positions of social, cultural, and economic influence are neither operating within dense social networks nor working together coherently with common agendas, not least because they are largely disaffected from the local church.

I've been thinking a lot about the role of the church and the importance of community within the Christian life, as well as my constant frustration with the state of Christian art, and all of this resonated so much with me.

This all leads to the second essay, “Rethinking Power.” Its premise is that power is not bad; it is a tool. What is bad is that modern America sees politics as the only avenue for power, the only hand to wield this tool. He describes politicization, which, in my teacher's words, means that all individuals and institutions are defined relative to the state. Marriage, for example, is a thing when the state says so—when you have a certificate stamped by a government official. The definition of marriage changed when the federal laws changed. The problem with politicization is that it shrinks our imaginations—we think of only political solutions to problems. It also causes us to see the other as the enemy.

This is being talked about in many circles, but Hunter connects it to Christians changing the world by describing the three ways Christians have responded to this politicization. He outlines the Christian Right, Christian Left, and Neo-Anabaptists, which are all defined by opposition—the Right against secularists, the Left against the Christian Right, and the Neo-Anabaptists against the state itself. Not only that, their strategies for cultural change or “renewal” are primarily political, funneling money toward the political party they think will usher in the change they want. (Neo-Anabaptists do not support either party, but their primary identity is being against the state, so paradoxically they too are defined by the state and their strategy for cultural change is also politics-oriented—it is purely to avoid politics.)

To suffer is one thing; how one bears that suffering is another. Among all factions within contemporary American Christianity, one can readily find a anger and resentment about what suffering they do endure. … indeed, one cannot deny that prophetic judgment is a part of the biblical narrative and the tradition of God's people, but is the Kingdom of God to be known predominantly by its negations?

Rather than being defined by its cultural achievements, its intellectual and artistic vitality, its service to the needs of others, Christianity is defined to the outside world by its rhetoric of resentment and the ambitions of a will in opposition to others.

I found this fascinating enough, but then the book took a turn I didn't expect. Following the first essay, I thought Hunter was going to advocate that Christians seek out positions of power, positions closer to the “center” of culture instead of the periphery. However, he points to the futile and damaging effects of Christians seeking out the primary cultural power of our day—politics—to argue that Christians need to eschew power.

Well, not quite. He argues that we need to value less the kind of power that our culture values—which is, again, political— and instead seek the kind of power that Jesus did, which he describes as "social power." Everyone has some form of power; it is woven into the fabric of our reality. We should not see to avoid it—we cannot, realistically—and yet we should not unthinkingly embrace it. He gives three compelling reasons why not: “power tends to become an end in itself; power always generates its own resistances; power always seems to carry with it unintended consequences.”

So what's the solution? Tension. As he puts it, “faithful Christian witness is fated to exist in the tension between the historical and the transcendent; between the social realities that press on human existence and the spiritual and ethical requirements of the gospel; between the morality of the society in which Christian believers live and the will of God.”

I have to admit, although this answer resonated with it me, it also disappointed me. It seems rather easy to acknowledge the nuance of power, how it is dangerous and yet inevitable. It seems easy to say that we can only change culture when being close to the center, but proximity to the center is also threatens corruption. But what, in all this wide Earth, does that tell us about what we should DO?

I think that's why I'm only giving this book four stars—probably it is more my impatience and desire for a ten-step plan than an actual fault of the book, but I felt like some of his answers were too easy or too theoretical. What does it actually look like to live in this tension? He does provide a few examples at the end and he admits that this is merely an overview, not a comprehensive diagnosis. Still, I finished feeling a little let down.

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. Hunter does offer two tasks for the American church that I wish I could email to every pastor (and congregant): “disentangle the life and identity of the church from the life and identity of American society” (again, what exactly does this look like?) and “decouple the ‘public’ from the ‘political.’” He then describes Jesus’ social power, listing his source of power (intimacy with God), his rejection of status and the privileges associated with it, his compassion and love for humanity and all of creation, and his inclusive call. This is the kind of power, Hunter argues, Christians should exercise.

He ties this all together in essay three, “Toward a New City Commons: Reflections on a Theology of Faithful Presence.” This is Hunter's conclusion: stop focusing on changing individual minds, because it doesn't work. Humans are more than just minds and cultural change doesn't spring up from individuals. Besides, the methods the American church has used to try to change individual minds are unChristian. They are rooted in politicization, grasping after a kind of power that does more harm than good. Instead, the church should utilize social power, really loving people at a local level.

The thing about this is that it may not actually change the culture. Hunter's idea of faithful presence, while radical, is not dramatic. It may not make “American Christian again”—which itself is a fake and dangerous ideal, he argues. But it will, slowly but surely like rain chiseling through stone over centuries, spread through every sphere of life the cause of human flourishing, rooted in the gospel of a God who loves humanity and came to save them. Should we want to change the world? Maybe not. Our efforts to effect change rarely turn out the way we want and too often we are so focused on “changing things” that we miss what God is really calling us to—making disciples and bringing human flourishing to the places and people God has brought us.

Hunter identifies two main problems of our current society: difference (there is no for dominant culture or belief system; a result of pluralism) and dissolution (we no longer trust that words connect to reality; a result of post-modernism). He argues that the church needs to recognize these challenges and specifically tailor their approaches to culture around them. He says, “by misreading the nature of the times and by focusing so much energy and resources on politics, those who have claimed the mantle of leadership have fixed attention on secondary and tertiary problems and false solutions.” The solution is formation, “the task of making disciples ... the cultivation of faithfulness in the totality of life."

One of the clearest practical examples of this is the need to encourage Christians in all vocations, spurring them on to participate in all spheres of society—making great art, excellent construction repairs, smart investments, etc.

With regard to the church’s rhetoric, Hunter urges affirmation and antithesis. We must push against the vitriol and dehumanization of politicization by first affirming what is good about humans and the world at large; antithesis then recognizes that this world is not our home and we cannot put our hope in any of its structures. He hastens to add that “it is not simply negational. Subversion is not nihilistic but creative and constructive.”

One of the most compelling points for me was the statement that Christians need to “discern the difference between the two scripts”—the script of the ancient Christian creeds and still fully relevant Christian ideas, as well as the script of our modern society, what it wants and fears. Basically, Christians need to be bilingual, able to speak about and operate in the culture’s arenas of power while holding to a different kind of power. I love this idea because when you are bilingual, you are fluent in both languages. However (if you learn one language second) you have a "heart language" that shapes how you think about reality. Christians are bilingual, and the “Christian script” is their heart language.

Lastly, Hunter describes this faithful presence (his alternative to how the church has interacted with culture so far) as being rooted in both presence and place. Basically, it means we are interacting with other physical beings in the physical locations around us. When we live out God's love, both among fellow Christians and to the broader world, we are pushing back against the challenges of difference and dissolution.

He offers some specific ideas and examples how to cultivate this faithful presence, especially for artists and leaders. But in the end, his point is that “were Christians to be in a position to exert enduring cultural influence, the results would likely be disastrous or perhaps mostly so.”

Let that sink in. Power corrupts, for one argument. But focusing on changing the world is just the wrong focus for Christians, period. We are called to be, well, faithful to the very tangible and specific people and places around us. If that does end up changing the broader culture for good, wonderful. But the minute we make that cultural change the end, we open ourselves up to embracing harmful methods and thinking we can control history.

My favorite quote is this: “In this world, the church can never be in repose. … the only way to reach that integrity is to recognize the tension and to reside within it knowing that failure is inevitable, forgiveness is ever available, and the work of the Holy Spirit to transform and sanctify our efforts is always inscrutably at work.”

We will never “arrive.” We will always live in the tension. And so as much as some of his conclusions may disappoint me because they don't feel practical or clear, perhaps that is what proves how true they are. It is more dangerous to think that you know exactly what the solution is (the ultimate pitfall of the Christian Right, Christian Left, and Neo-Anabaptists). If we ever think we have it figured out, the magic pill for how Christians should interact with Society, we can be sure we have gotten off the right track.

But that is not cause for despair. Because we are not called to change the world. We are called to be faithful where we are and leave the broader results—and even the smaller, personal ones—to God. We have the privilege of being his tools. And he does often use us for great things, so dream big and reach high. But we do not have to do so out of fear that we must somehow redeem all of society or save our culture. We can do so delighting in our God who is, mysteriously but surely, making all things new.

[James Smith · Rating 5 out of 5]

My review of this book, "How (Not) to Change the World," is available at The Other Journal. The book is really a must-read.

[Douglas Wilson · Rating 3 out of 5]

The full title of this book is To Change the World: The Irony, Tragedy & Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World. It ought to have been To Change the World: But Not Too Much.

Hunter is obviously learned, and there are sections of this book that are insightful, and very helpful. But, taken as whole, the thesis is really bad, which is to say, terrible.

[Melvin Kauffman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant! I think this makes my all time top ten list!

Hunter thoroughly critiques models of cultural change and more importantly, the ironic tragedy of American Christianity's (taking the Christian Right, Christian Left, and Neo-Anabaptists in turn) useless obsession with politics in a Constantinian era power grab. Fueled by resentment and faulty myths these paths will not work in our post-Christian world.

Instead, our task is---like the exiles in Babylon (Jer 29)---to live faithfully within the world but not of it.

I will be thinking about this book for a long time.

[Matthew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fascinating and important work on the Church in modern American society.
Also - how does culture work and what changes it?
Plus - Who and what actually influences culture (spoiler alert, it's not the little guy buying a cup of organic coffee, after all).
And - How American politics and power have set the terms for how Christianity understands itself (yes, even the anabaptists), or, what Jim Wallis and Franklin Graham have in common (?!).
Finally - a better way to go out into the world after church on Sunday; not - "go and change the world", but "faithful presence within".

I've been reading and rereading sections of this book for a few years. I began reading it during the 2016 presidential election, and it was like having a giant case study unfolding before me as I was reading it. Maybe I'll pick it up again in November : )

There are many, many good reviews of this book already. What I'll add is simply this - when we study history, we usually study the influential thinkers, writers, culture-makers. We look back and assess who the influential people were and we write about how they were influential. But a more nuanced exploration of history will take into account that some of the most influential people in a given time may not seem influential to us.
In a generation or two, I don't know that Hunter's book will be remembered. After all, it's a bit tedious and it's difficult to read. So, when people in the future look back at this time in American Christian history, and when they study those who have been most influential in helping Christians in the modern West to engage a changing culture, I don't think that "To Change the World" will be on the list. However, when careful historians dig into who it was that influenced the influential people of this time, I wonder if Hunter's text will be common among them.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

I dread the 2012 presidential election because debates will arise, as they always do, about who Christians should vote for. I will be told that true Christians cannot vote for candidates who are pro-choice (to be fair, others will say the only Christian choice is the pro-choice candidate because...of various reasons). It has often struck me that this entire debate is framed as a matter of politics. Recently I watched a very popular evangelistic movie online where the host manages to convince people that abortion is killing babies. His conclusion? He encourages them to vote for pro-life candidates.

Is that all there is to it? Why not encourage them to adopt the babies of unplanned pregnancies? How can Christians be pro-life prior to conception but then when the baby is five years old and the mother has no health insurance...sorry, life's tough. The reason is that Christians have bought into the idea that politics is the answer to all problems. Christians have been co-opted as a voting bloc and convinced the only way to culture change is via politics.

This is one thing I got from James Davison Hunter's book. He demonstrates how the Religious Right have preached a narrative of taking America a better and more moral past. But he also shows how a growing "Christian Left", represented by people like Jim Wallis and Brian McLaren, see the solution to whatever is wrong with the world through politics. So while they may emphasize issues like poverty and war, their path is to change things through government. Hunter then talks about a third, even smaller, group, the "Neo-Anabaptists". Even though they have a skeptical attitude to the power of the state (as opposed to the Christian left) he argues they too have bought into the same idea that politics is where change and power is, or as he puts it, "the language of politics still provides the meaning for public witness." In other words, the identity of the Neo-Anabaptists depends on the State and other powers being corrupt.

Another way he puts this is that Christians have approached culture with attitudes of "defensive against" (Christian Right), "relevance to" (Christian Left) and "purity from" (Neo-Anabaptist). As a new way he offers "faithful presence". Faithful presence is not concerned with changing the culture or the world. Instead, Christians are fully present and committed in their spheres of social influence; it is a "constructive resistance that seeks new patterns of social organization that challenge, undermine, and otherwise diminish oppression, injustice, enmity, and corruption and, in turn, encourage harmony, fruitfulness and abundance, wholeness, beauty, joy, security and well-being". There is a lot more to say about how this works, I have barely scratched the surface and probably done a poor job explaining it.

In conclusion, to go along with my above rant, Hunter argues that culture is not change primarily through politics (and that Christians should not worry about changing the culture anyway). I do not think his view of "faithful presence" is a way for Christians to get their way in politics or culture (it is not a political strategy). Instead, it is the way for Christians to bring the peace and goodness of God into the world in whatever area they are in: business, education, arts, and even perhaps politics. The goal is human flourishing for all people in God's creation, not victory of a small segment of people over everyone else.

[Christopher Gow · Rating 4 out of 5]

Helpful as a survey and critique of current ideas for political/public engagement in the Church.

But, as much as he emphasizes the need to be "constructive" and not merely critical, Hunter doesn't offer much specificity about an alternative to these other options he critiques. He offers "faithful presence" as a "posture" toward society for the church to adopt, but the specific requirements/goals --or even what Christians should hope will come from "faithful presence" are not clearly outlined. This is something Hunter admits and he calls Christians to figure it out in their contexts (his humility here is appreciated but slightly disappointing).

In an early chapter, Hunter has a pretty targeted critique of Andy Crouch's Culture Making, and Hunter's points are really strong. But later he seems to be suggesting a view "faithful presence" that is almost identical to Crouch's. And this is not the only time that his ideas seemt to double-back and contradict each other.

Still, really thought-provoking and insightful in a lot of ways. Would recommend to someone who wants an overview of Christian models of political/public engagement.

[Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hunter's is a voice that needs to be heard in the highly politicized climate of American Christianity, right and left. He combines erudition with clear writing, making this one of the most compelling books I've read in a while.

Only a few criticisms:
1. Andy Crouch's review in Books and Culture was right that Hunter could be more generous to other Christians dealing with issues of Christianity and culture. I'm not sure that most writers are as far from his idea of "faithful presence" as he portrays.
2. We don't get enough explanation of how the presence of the Word overcomes the postmodern rupture between word/reality.
3. I'm not sure that a period of Christian silence in politics is consistent with his own position of faithful presence. It seems that faithful presence would require the continued involvement of those Christians in positions of political influence, despite Christian failings in the past.
4. More tentatively, for all his criticism of idealist accounts of history, his own account prioritizes ideas: Christians in America have wrongly *conceptualized* their relationship to culture, which an *understanding* of faithful presence could solve.

[Susan · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was blown away by this book. It's objective is ambitious: to explain why Christians so often struggle to make a difference in the culture - to "change the world" - and to offer an altogether different paradigm for doing so.

Hunter's approach is both historically rich and spiritually deep. He organizes his argument into three essays which build on each other to make the case for his theology of faithful presence.

In Essay One, he explores the healthy desire of Christians to change the world, but believes that they have a faulty understanding of how cultural change occurs. Because change happens at the center of cultural production and status, and not at the individual, grass-roots level, Hunter argues that the historic approach of changing one person at a time until the culture reflects the values of individuals will not work. He takes the reader through an exploration of historic cultural change and discusses the role Christianity played in those changes. Because modern-day Christianity does not operate at the center of cultural production, he says, Christians cannot influence culture in the ways they hope to. It is not, as many have asserted, because today's Christians aren't "Christian enough," don't have enough zeal or don't care enough.

Essay Two delves into the various theories of power held by most Christians. He argues that Christians today have trouble thinking of cultural influence in any terms other than the political. We want to change the world by enacting policies, electing candidates, or passing laws. But this not only creates an attitude of resentment when things do not go our way, but it also doesn't work. While political participation is good and necessary, Hunter argues that it is not the primary way in which Christians should hope to change the course of culture. To demonstrate this idea, Hunter examines three approaches to cultural engagement:

1. Defense Against moral encroachment (typical of the Christian Right, which uses phrases like "take back the culture," "reclaim the nation for Christ," "and "eradicate the evil")

2. Relevance To the social needs of the culture (typical of the Christian Left, which seeks to persuade Christians to meet the needs of the disadvantaged of society, even at the expense of doctrinal orthodoxy)

3. Purity From the the corruption of this world (typical of Neo-Anabaptists, who withdraw into the sanctity of the church and refuse to engage the polictical power structures at all, opting instead for pacifist separatism.

Hunter argues that Christians must disentangle the life and identity of the church from the life and identity of American society. We must also decouple our idea of public engagement from political activity. The merging of faith and politics, he says, is deeply problematic.

In Essay 3, Hunter presents an alternative paradigm. Rather than operating from a position of Defense Against, Relevance To, or Purity From the culture, he argues, we should choose a paradigm that models Faithful Presence Within. It's important to understand that Hunter is not saying that we should throw out all attempts to defend against moral corruption, enact relevant social change, or remain pure from the influences of the culture. He acknowledges that all of these ideas are "important parts of the puzzle of the contemporary world." Instead, he is arguing that these should not be viewed as the defining issues, trumping all others, and as such, should not form the basis for primary paradigms of engagement for cultural change.

Faithful Presence Within, by contrast, acknowledges the reality of the cultural and seeks to live distinctly as Christians within it. To do so, Hunter presents two challenges facing the church in our day: the challenge of difference (how do we think about and relate to those who are different from us in a pluralistic culture that no longer acknowledges Christianity as a dominant influence?) and the challenge of dissolution (how do we approach the deconstruction of the most basic assumptions about reality, including the undermining of shared meanings of words and fixed references?)

In this final essay, Hunter masterfully builds out the biblical groundwork for a theology of faithful presence, starting with God's faithful presence with us. He pursues us, identifies with us, and offers us life through sacrificial love. Christians, in response, "should direct ourselves toward the flourishing of others through actions and structures that embody sacrificial love." (p. 246) "Even if our tasks in this world do not have 'ultimate significance' that does not mean that the tasks we perform have no spiritual significance." (p. 253)

Hunter closes his book by asking a basic question: Will engaging the world this way bring about true cultural change?

This, he says, is the wrong question because "it is based on the dubious assumption that the world, and thus history, can be controlled and managed...Nearly any action can be justified if it helps to put the society on course and keeps it going in the right direction" - even violence. (p. 285)

"To be sure, Christianity is not, first and foremost, about establishing righteousness or creating good values or securing justice or making peace in the world. Don't get me wrong: these are goods we should care about and pursue with great passion. But for Christians, these are all secondary to the primary good of God himself and the primary task of worshipping him and honoring him in all they do."

I'll be thinking about this for a long time.

[Bob · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an important book! James Davison Hunter challenges the rhetoric (and hubris) that often comes with the idea of "changing the world" that is embraced by many Christian ministries and movements. He argues first that we often work from inadequate assumptions about the nature of culture change. Secondly, he argues that either in our embrace or rejection of political power, we wrongly attribute too much to this kind of power. Third, he would argue that the proper stance for the church is one of "faithful presence." These three points are more or less the theses of the three "essays" that comprise this book.

In his first essay, he begins by challenging what he sees as the shared assumption of many movements that "world-change" happens as you change the hearts and minds of individuals through evangelism, political, and social efforts. Related to this is often a version of a "great person" theory of culture change. Hunter argues that this view, based on getting individuals to think better and do better, is mistaken because of an inadequate understanding of culture and culture change, which he articulates in the form of eleven propositions. He would argue that culture is embedded in overlapping institutions of cultural power as much as in ideas and that culture changes as elites within overlapping networks work toward shared ends. Hunter observes that part of the failure of Christians despite some political heft and media presence to effect the changes they hope for in American culture is their absence from these elites. He also looks at the history of Christianity and notes how their influence extended into the culture when they represented the elites of education, the arts, social institutions, as well as politics. William Wilberforce, for example, was not simply an individual reformer but part of a network of politicians, educators, landowners, and industrialists who, together, helped form a social consensus against slavery. He concludes the essay with warnings about hubris as well--change often has unintended consequences.

The second essay explores what Hunter sees as a Christian embrace of the postmodern politicization of power and its reduction of all of public life to politics. One of the things he also notes in this analysis is the phenomenon of ressentiment, the narrative of injury that often drives the postmodern striving for power--whether it is the anger of the decline of values, the inequalities of society, or the disdain of politics. What he then does is apply these insights to a description of efforts of Christians on the political right, left, and the neo-Anabaptists and their apparent disdain for political engagement. Hunter would see all three as participating in the conflation of all public life into political life either by their embrace or disdain of that life. All miss the "something more" that he believes is part of the calling of Christians in the world.

That "something more" which he calls "faithful presence" is what he elaborates in the third essay. He argues on the basis of the incarnation and servant ministry of Jesus that our faithful presence is not one of grasping for power but rather of seeking the shalom of our human society through a full participation in all the dimensions of human life. He contends that Christians often lack an adequate sense of calling to living out their faith in every day life in the world, and that this is what constitutes Christian faithfulness. He also notes the struggle of this, that we participate, and share in imperfect institutions that we might make a bit better through our presence in the way that heralds the coming kingdom.

I call this an important book because it challenges thoughtfully our inadequate assumptions about culture change, it diagnoses our absence in many of the powerful centers of culture, it names what has been wrong with so many of our political engagements, and it proposes an alternative deeply rooted in the person and work and mission of Christ. Some will no doubt contend with his characterization of the Christian Right, Left, or neo-Anabaptism. What I am concerned with is the question of whether "faithful presence" and a de-constructing of the rhetoric of world-change might lead to a vision of making the world just a little better, but discourage the more drastic but sometimes needed efforts like those of a Wilberforce, or a modern day Gary Haugen in fighting human trafficking. Would those committed to "faithful presence" see an outrageous wrong and move beyond what I would call mere presence to active belligerency that engages the overlapping networks to address something that prevents human flourishing? I think that Hunter's idea of "faithful presence" is probably robust enough to include this, but I wonder how the language would translate into everyday church circles. I suspect it could easily turn into a response that says, "we should not resist evils like this but simply be faithful to the Lord." Will "faithful presence" be understood in the terms Andre' Trocme and Le Chambon understood it in hiding Jews escaping Nazi Germany? Or could this simply support the thin, privatized faith that goes along with tyranny?

That said, I think this one of the most important works written about Christian engagement in public life and one that deserves more attention and discussion by all who care about public life and how Christians engage the wider culture.

[Clara Biesel · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is very, very good. I read most of it in the fall but had one chunk leftover which I wanted to read before reviewing it. This book does a beautiful job of laying out the problems of Christianity in America today, and I love it's call to faithful presence. I had wished for more of an answer to the question of how do we change the world. For more on that topic I recommend Blueprint for Revolution and Switch: How to Change when Change is Hard.

[Peyton Gunter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sociology blows my mind sometimes

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

Key for any discussion of Christian faith and the engagement culture.

[Abigail Hartman · Rating 4 out of 5]

As I conclude the final essay of To Change the World, I almost feel I need to go back and read it over again immediately. In some ways it is a very dense book, much more substantial than your average Crossway publication about how the Church and individual believers can impact the world: it is, after all, written by a sociology and religion professor and published by Oxford University Press. Perhaps it is this perspective that ultimately makes the book so powerful, for Hunter is able to call upon a wealth of different kinds of knowledge - historical, sociological, biblical, theological - and approach his subject with a critical eye as well as sincerity. To Change the World is not a mere primer on contemporary religion, nor is it a catalogue of the failures of modern Christianity. It is an earnest, well-reasoned, convicting, and inspiring call for the Church to rethink its approach to culture and witness in the twenty-first century.

I'll grant that it may take a little bit of getting into, as the first two essays, "Christianity and World-Changing" and "Rethinking Power," deal much more with sociology and theories of culture and power. Nevertheless, Hunter writes in a clear style (lots of nice headers and bite-sized sections, and his reiteration of keys points is helpful when one comes back to the book after a break) and grounds his more theoretical observations in contemporary examples. For me, though, his argument began to come together and catch my attention around the latter half of the second essay ("Rethinking Power"). Then he really brought all his points home in the third essay, "Toward a New City Commons: Reflections on a Theology of Faithful Presence." I don't believe his reasonable and passionate final argument constitutes a total re-envisioning of the role of the Church and of individual Christians in the world, for Hunter himself grounds the argument in historical (p. 270-271) and biblical (p. 276-279) precedent; nevertheless, I think the paradigm he presents has been all but abandoned in what he terms the late-modern world. I also think it needs to be rediscovered.

There were some things that gave me pause, but I'm not going to enumerate them: others can read the book and question elements themselves, if they like. I prefer to end by urging others to read and consider Hunter's call for a revitalization of a faithful Christian presence in the world. It applies to Christians of all vocations and in all spheres - artists, teachers, business-folks, parents. That is really one of Hunter's main points.

"Put differently, the practices of faithful presence represent an assault on the worldliness of this present age. However, as I have argued throughout, this assault does not manifest itself as mere negation of nihilism. If this were the primary expression of this challenge it would be, in its means and method, of a fabric with the nihilism it seeks to repudiate. It would be simply one more negation. Rather, the primary nature of the assault is, as I have argued, more of a bursting out of new creation from within it. To the extent that Christians have any influence and exercise leadership in whatever sphere of life they inhabit [Hunter contends that this includes all believers], to that extent Christians have a covenantal obligation to actively and concretely realize faith, hope, and love in all that these ideals mean." (Hunter, p. 264-265)

[Mark Jr. · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book will need to gestate for a while. There's no way I can write a review at the moment. I can only offer initial impressions as to its value: I simply found his analysis of major Christian ways to view culture more intuitive—and more immediately helpful—than Niebuhr or even Carson. If I were you, I'd actually read the last chapter first, then go back and read the book. I wish I had; I like to be oriented first before I read a substantive book. In any case, that last chapter carries this great orienting paragraph:

The three political theologies discussed in Essay II are, in fact, the leading public edge of more complex paradigms of cultural engagement that I call “defensive against,” “relevance to,” and “purity from.” In using this phrase, “paradigms of cultural engagement,” I do not mean to propose anything as ambitious and inclusive as a formal conceptual model, akin to the one proposed by H. Richard Niebuhr in his masterwork, Christ and Culture. I merely refer to relatively different understandings of the world, ways of being in the world, and ways of relating to the world. These are, in short, different ways of thinking about and pursuing faithfulness in the world.

"Defensive against" is the Religious Right (think Falwell and Robertson). "Relevance to" is the Religious Left (think Sojourners, Jim Wallis, Randall Balmer). "Purity from" is the contemporary Anabaptist tradition (think John Howard Yoder). Hunter proposes an alternative that recognizes value in all three of these approaches but argues that all three are implicitly endorsing a will-to-power mode of cultural change. Hunter's proposal is "faithful presence."

As I read the book, knowing that "faithful presence" was Hunter's thing, I kept feeling that it was too vague—until I got to the final chapters. While it could be developed much more, especially in practical ways, Hunter's vision does seem to me to bid fair to be an alternative to the other three visions he critiques. It calls for promoting faith, hope, and love in whatever cultural space you occupy. Whether or not Hunter's "faithful presence" creates intellectual/theological space for other writers to fill will, I think, be an acid test of his vision.

A final, sort of scattered thought: I'm not sure how different Hunter is in practice from Andy Crouch. He explicitly disclaims any idea of "redeeming the culture," but he himself writes that the practical examples of faithful presence he gives "are less a blueprint to be applied than a catalyst for thinking about other imaginative possibilities for the transformation of culture in business, the arts, medicine, housing, and the like."

[April · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book explores questions I have been dying to get to the bottom to. What does it mean to remain faithful to God in a post-postmodern age of pluralism, relativism, and nihilism without going to the extremes of hyper-spiritualization (a fearful isolation of oneself from the world) or hyper-secularization (political lobbying and "relevance to" culture arguments). Gets to the bottom of why evangelical conservatism and social gospel liberalism in Christianity both prove to be ultimately unsatisfactory. Explores whether it is an actual possibility for the church to "change the world" and the problem of power. Hunter proposes a new method, "faithful presence," which at first glance seems too simple. And yet it's so appealing. "In all, the practice of faithful presence generates relationships and institutions that are covenantal. These create space that fosters meaning, purpose, and belonging and by so doing, these relationships and institutions resist an instrumentalization endemic to the modern world that tends to reduce the value of people and the worth of creation to mere utility, whether utility is oriented toward market efficiency, expanding power, or personal fulfillment" (266). To embrace "faithful presence" is to affirm and embody God's regenerative, redemptive character in a world that seems doomed to entropy. Absolutely thought-provoking, satisfying and compelling. Ultimately hopeful.

[Joseph Bouchoc · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really enjoyed this book. I started it early in the year and just got around to finishing it. Hunter critiques the over-politicization of our culture and the Christian responses to culture by conservatives, liberals, and neo-anabaptists. He subsequently offers a third way that He calls “faithful presence” that offers a way for Christians to live in the tension between “affirmation” of culture as good, and “antithesis” as Christians respond to and offer alternatives to the bad, especially in a way that avoids the current goal of power - which he claims most Christian attempts to deal with culture have.

I found his book insightful and challenging as I wrestle through what it means to be a Christian in our culture, and what it means to be a pastor who calls Christian’s to live faithfully in such a time of cultural upheaval. Would strongly recommend! My only wish was that it had been written this year rather than in 2010. The culture has changed so quickly.

[Skipr · Rating 1 out of 5]

Seventy pages of ideas packed into 286 pages of text. Hunter's editor should have used a machete instead of a scalpel. At least 75% of the book is devoted to "laying the groundwork," "clearing away brush," "reiterating," and, in general beating the dead horse of the "irony," and "tragedy," (see the title). I kept reading all the way to the end, because I wanted to learn more about Hunter's take on the "possibility" part of the title. Hunter's strategy for realizing the "...Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World," is summarized in the phrase, "faithful presence in the world." Good idea. Unfortunately, his exposition of that idea is vague, and, to me, uninspiring.

[Ben Thurley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Subtitled, "The Irony, Tragedy and Possibility of Christianity in the Late Modern World" this is a forceful sociological engagement with contemporary forms of Christian public and political witness. Constructed as three essays, whose arguments build cumulatively, James Davison Hunter (JDH) asks what the possibilities are for a contemporary Christian witness that isn't co-opted by partisan politics and that isn't, itself, an expression of the will to power that marks so much political engagement on all sides. While the work has a particular resonance given the church and political scene in the United States of America, many of his points have a wider relevance.

He is upfront in acknowledging that the actual legacy of Christians in relation to creating, contributing to, or caring for a just and sustainable world is quite mixed.

Willful negligence of moral and spiritual obligations, the abuse of power, and corruption through self-aggrandizement result in the exploitation of other human beings and the destruction of the resources of the social and natural environment. At the same time, there is a record of extraordinary good; of service to all and in honor of God. The ambivalence is what it is. There is much for Christians to be inspired by and much of which repent.

But his over all thesis is that the dominant ways that Christian institutions and groups are thinking about culture and cultural change are flawed and incapable of working. A focus on individual conversion – to reorient people around "right values" and the capacity to live by them – along with focus on voting for candidates who hold the "right values" ultimately fails to come to grips with the ways that cultural production and symbolic capital is generated, legitimated and perpetuated through widespread networks of institutions and elites.

He offers a strong critique of what he sees as the three main political stances in American Christianity, the conservative, progressive and neo-Anabaptist, highlighting the founding myth or mythic ideal that each holds on to, along with their stories of Fall, or original sin, and the path to redemption they trace.

For conservatives this is, by and large, the loss of a "right ordering" of society in which certain Christian or “Judeo-Christian” institutions, principles, and forms of public engagement (often representing, to them, the original intention and ideal of America’s foundations) have been degraded or debased by hostile forces: secular humanists, liberal media, various interest groups. The political engagement that flows from this is characterised by a strong Republican partisanship (and we can all see how well that is working out both for Christians and for the Republican Party in the US right now) and a clear desire for some sort of controlling influence in American politics and culture.

For progressives, the animating myth is the ongoing struggle within history to achieve equality and peaceful community and draws nourishment from the prophetic tradition in the bible. Though JDH argues that in its commitment to social change through politics and politically oriented social movements, in its conflation of the public with the political, in its own selective use of scripture to justify political interests, and in its confusion of theology with national interests and identity, the Christian Left (not least the Evangelical Left) imiates the Christian right.

For people outside the US, the final grouping that JDH analyses may well not be as familiar as the first two (who also map fairly neatly onto the two major political parties, Republicans and Democrats). The "Neo-Anabaptists" (some founding thinkers are John Howard Yoder, Stanley Hauerwas) share some common concerns with the Christian Left, particular environmental concern and a critique of the human and environmental consequences of unrestrained market capitalism. The main point of difference between the Christian Left and the neo-Anabaptist position is found in their respective views of the State. "The former is committed to a strong State and is willing to press it to realize its agenda in law and policy, while the latter keeps its distance from the State, maintaining a basic distrust toward its structure, action, and use of power." Its mythic ideal is the faithful and peaceful witness of the primitive church of the New Testament in the face of Imperial coercion and violence and its "Fall" is Constantinianism – on this reading the capture of the church by the state and a thin and ineffectual christianising veneer placed on imperial idolatry, exploitation and violence.

Because the church is not able to avoid questions of power and because of the ever present tension between historical and transcendent, “between the social realities that press on human existence and the spiritual and ethical requirements of the gospel”, JDH regards this stance as deeply inadequate – while recognising the strength of its call to bear witness to and draw strength from the Jesus whose power was founded on his intimacy with and submission to God, led to a rejection of status and privilege, was exercised in love for the good of humanity and creation and was noncoercive to outsiders. He regards the other two stances as indequate also, because of their conflating of the political and the public, and their tendency to be co-opted by political forces that are, in the final analysis, inimical to their deeper vision for flourishing communities and individuals.

In response to all this, he proposes a stronger focus on "faithful presence" that doesn't seek to control society or achieve political aims, but that bears public witness to other ways of being human and organising community that is sensitive and responsive to the diversity and fragmentation of contemporary western culture. Against the old models of engagement with culture – conservatives being "defensive against" culture, progressives seeking "relevance to" culture, and neo-Anabaptists prizing "purity from" culture, he proposes "faithful presence within" culture. And he offers a number of examples and a small selection of hallmarks of churches and church institutions seeking to contribute to the flourishing of all in the shared world.

I resonated with a lot of this work, even as an Australian Christian. As a Christian involved, broadly, in politics here at home, I appreciated the sharpness of the challenge posed to my own implicit "theory of change". What changes am I working towards, how do I think they will be achieved, and what is the role of the church in helping to bring those changes about? His critiques of contemporary American political theologies are also insightful and penetrating. It's also hard to argue to argue against churches being more "faithfully present" in their times and places.

I was left wondering, though, whether his proposed positive alternative is as clear and distinct as he wishes to make it out to be. Can you draw as sharp a distinction between "the public" and "the political", so that Christians are called to be involved in the former without being contaminated by the latter? In his justifiable questioning of the polarising struggle to have state institutions and policies address every kind of social problem, does he underplay the capacity of the state and politics to reduce harm, restrain evil and promote good? How can churches agree on what faithful presence might mean, for example, in "welcoming the stranger", when very different political construals of immigration and asylum will lead some to envisage churches as sanctuaries and some to seek the building of walls and the exclusion of "queue jumpers."

It's a powerful work, with penetrating analysis, and some fascinating insights into the vexed history of church engagement in public and political life from the first Century until today. But, as is often the case, its strengths probably lie more in the questions it asks than in the details of the answers it seeks to provide.

[Brian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Retraction: "While culture change is not democratic and egalitarian (some people will have more power than others), creating and preserving Evangelical culture as we find it has and will continue to have an impact, a great deal of it positive, especially in the long view of history."

I had some conversations this weekend that have basically convinced me this aspect of Hunter's thesis is actually right (no cultures are created bottom-up; they're always top-down by elites). We can and should help the people in front of us, but in terms of what really will change the world, it's going to be elites, government, etc.

Old review: This book is essential reading if you are concerned about a) the Evangelical right and American politics, b) high-level culture change, or c) institutions. However, it's required reading not because it's a great take, but because it's asking some questions that most folks aren't asking. It's actually really bad on loads and loads of stuff, though I also dearly wish it had been assigned to me in Freshman year of college instead of Crouch's Culture-Making.

So essentially, Hunter is a thoughtful Reformed Christian, and a friend of Tim Keller, and as the book goes on and on, this shows, in both the typical good and bad ways. This book has essentially three parts, along with which are three theses:
1. Evangelicals think culture is changed by changing individuals' hearts; it's not. It's changed by networks of elites in institutions.
2. Conservative and liberal Evangelicals and Neo-Anabaptists alike are all consumed with power, and we should basically not be so consumed with changing the culture as acting within it.
3. We should bloom where we're planted and try to be faithful in inconsequential places if that's where we are, and if we're in positions of prominence we should work within them to do as much limited good as possible.

While that may sound fairly innocent, the way it's worded and expressed really isn't. Throughout the book, Hunter betrays a deep and abiding malice towards conservative Evangelicals. In part two, he even states that he will offer a sympathetic, non-partisan portrayal of each sides concerns, but by the end it's clear he has no patience for the Evangelical right and he considers them guilty of deep hypocrisy and stupidity. Make no mistake, I'm sure there's a lot of that, but he way overstated them.

And his first two theses are greatly falsifiable. His first thesis about institutions is well-taken, but he virtually shows that Evangelicals are actually very involved in founding institutions, which would seem to falsify the idea that Evangelicals just think individuals are where it's at. Indeed, if they were all about just infiltrating institutions, he would no doubt accuse them of being power-hungry. And there is limited value in saying that institutions control everything: I could point to Tolstoy, for instance. While culture change is not democratic and egalitarian (some people will have more power than others), creating and preserving Evangelical culture as we find it has and will continue to have an impact, a great deal of it positive, especially in the long view of history. Still, he does score one point, which is very significant: he does show that some Evangelicals are confused and basically do think that cultural change can be accomplished grass-roots style. This is an important point, and nobody should keep thinking it.

His second thesis is, in my opinion, also confused and imprecise. Even though he later on basically says that we all have power and we need to deal with it, he brings out the old line that Evangelicals have lost the integrity of their witness due to political involvement. But it strikes me as a heads you win, tails you lose argument. Evangelicals have always been focused on the abortion issue, to the exclusion of economic and military concerns. I think that's good: I want there to be a lot more leeway on those more complicated issues, with a relatively strong base that recognizes what is obviously evil close to home. However, to his credit, Hunter does critique the Evangelical left and the Neo-Anabaptists as power hungry, and he does show something else, even though his critique misses the target: all three groups are anxious and insecure due to the fact that they're not in power. Conservative Evangelicals are worried because they can't stop the culture slide, and liberal Evangelicals and Neo-Anabaptists are angry that the conservative Evangelicals represent them. He got the Oedipus complex down perfectly.

The last part was actually my favorite. There are some obvious issues. He wants there to be more room for pluralism, and he backs off some of the seemingly anti-power stuff in part two. However, he's pretty clearly a genuinely Reformed Protestant and this means that he really hits the hammer on the head when he accuses Neo-Anabaptists of being Gnostic by denigrating the doctrine of vocation. When I was a freshman, I genuinely thought that I could do a lot of good in the world because I was motivated to change the culture. Hunter is absolutely right that this really isn't a good motivation, and that a better motivation is usually found, not in people who want to tear apart or start new institutions from scratch, but in those who want to revitalize the institutions that already exist. He's perfectly aware that some institutions aren't worth saving, but he is also aware that there's a lot of good that exists and that we actually do have some common ground in the public square with unbelievers. I remember a lot of things annoying me in this bit, but that's basically what we need to do. Although I don't think we should stop being politically active in the ways we've been active, I also think that we should humbly do more to work for the creation of a city commons than we have been.

So again, this book has some valuable things. I suspect that the author could be more charitable to Evangelical conservatives and could include less politically correct stuff, but I did find it a stimulating read throughout and think it should definitely be required reading for any intellectual who thinks about "the culture."

[Laura · Rating 5 out of 5]

My husband bought me this book because I’m always talking about my desire to save the world. I’m glad I read it. But, it was a lot like taking disgusting medicine. I know it’s good for me, but it’s also rather unpleasant. For one, I’ve realized the methods of world saving I’ve been most enthusiastic about are not only useless, some of them are actually harmful. Like when he said this, “To engage in a war of words is to engage in a symbolic violence that is fundamentally at odds with the gospel.”

Hunter makes the irrefutable case that politics will never save the world, for a bunch of reasons. For one, passing laws does not change people’s values. Also, the big behemoth known as The State, doesn’t change through democracy. It’s too big. Culture itself is even bigger.

After I came to terms with all this, I began to get pretty inspired by Hunter’s explanation of what we should be doing. We should be making disciples. Among other things, we should be seeking the welfare of every member of society. The church should be creatively (as in the act of creation) and constructively undermining all frameworks of society that are incompatible with promoting the well-being of each member of society. But, contrary to my liberal tendencies, we should not use force to fight such frameworks. God doesn’t force us to follow Him or love Him. The use of force is incompatible with Christianity.

The letting go of using force idea still kinda feels like giving up and accepting a world where the powerful continue to take advantages. But, it’s really just acknowledging that it’s Christ’s job to overthrow the powers, not mine. I fight the powers in a different way.

[Frederick Heimbach · Rating 2 out of 5]

The best part of this book is at the beginning, where it shoots down the common belief in the "changing hearts and minds" approach to changing the world. The author convincingly argues in favor of the more bracing belief that the way to change the world is by changing elites.

Beyond that, the book had surprisingly little to offer. I wish the author had waited until he had more concrete advice to give. Even at the end, a short list of concrete examples to follow are anonymized, so you can't even go google the examples to find out the real story on what they've achieved and how.

I resent the time I invested in this book. Not recommended.

[Drew · Rating 5 out of 5]

This one took me a while to get through but I found it a very rewarding critique. His critiques of dominant approaches to political theology - liberal, conservative, and neo-anabaptist - are spot on, and he proposes a helpful alternative. It would have benefited from more practical examples throughout, but he does enough of this near the end that the reader can more easily picture what this means.

This would fit well with, and be helpful to read beside, The Patient Ferment of the Early Church and Andrew Root’s series on ministry in a secular age.

[Norman Falk · Rating 5 out of 5]

I found this to be an incredibly thought provoking book. As a sociologist, his engagement with key theological issues and prominent figures at the intersection of church and culture is truly remarkable. Although I'm not familiar with the author's background, he clearly has deep, firsthand experiences, particularly within the evangelical ethos (he not only understand the ideas, but also has a sense of the passions and fears behind them). The book would be a great choice for a book club and is probably my new go-to resource on anything related to "cultural engagment".

[Jonathan Suggs · Rating 4 out of 5]

I’m only 15 years late to the game on this one! But I still found it extremely helpful.

Hunter’s assessment of the late modern world, the way cultures change, and common approaches to affecting cultural change are still very accurate. If anything, the challenges (difference & dissolution) and the common approaches he highlights (domination, assimilation, and withdrawal) have only become more fortified in the past decade. I was convinced that the church needs to embody, what Hunter calls, “faithful presence” more than ever.

[Elisabeth White · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the kind of book that I wish everyone I knew was also reading so I could talk about it all the time. It’s a commitment for sure, and like You Are What You Love, makes you frustrated at times because there is no way to implement any of this as an individual, but it’s such good content!

Adding it to my list of books every pastor should read (so far, it’s YAWYL, Embodied, and this one).

[Miguel Gonzalez-Feliciano · Rating 5 out of 5]

Really well written book which describes many problems Christians have interacting with various facets of culture. Of particular interest was his view of power and the function of it in the church. While his proposed way forward is nebulous, it tentatively offers a way forward.

A worthwhile read for sure. Deeply enjoyed his writing style and the way he presented his arguments.

[Mike Fendrich · Rating 5 out of 5]

A must read. It is time for the western church to lay down its worldly weapons it has used in the culture wars, stop fighting culture wars and get to the business of living faithfully in the world that God has given us. Hunter's book is an excellent reminder that God brings peace to His people (not in their circumstances necessarily but in their attitudes and relationships with others). The kingdom that we long for is His and He will institute it at the time of His choosing. In the meantime, we trust and follow Him faithfully and in peace and quit making enemies of those who differ (radically at times) with us hardening them against God and His gospel.

[Jackson Ford · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved it! What an excellent work on Christianity’s interactions with power and culture. Truly a faithful discernment of praxis.

[Kai Newell · Rating 5 out of 5]

A must read for any believer who desires to interact biblically with culture.