An Open Letter to Lance Ketchum

Don,

Your questions are fair, if perhaps only partial. Let me do my best to respond to them.

You have a series of questions about the Lansdale meeting. Let me separate them in order to provide answers.

(1) Do I think the meeting had much of an effect upon Dever? Well, I think that it certainly heightened his awareness of some issues and made him more accountable for his handling of them. You need to understand, however, that the minds of thoughtful people (and Dever is a thoughtful person) are rarely changed as the result of a single conversation, article, book, or argument. Mature thinkers always have a whole list of tensions and unanswered questions that they are trying to work through, any one of which has the potential radically to realign major segments of their understanding. The way to change minds is to sustain a conversation that will, over time, deal with objections, exceptions, qualifications, nuances, and contrary evidence. Mature people do not just abandon their position because a good argument comes along. They take the time to weigh it, dissect it, investigate its foundations, and measure its implications. Do I think that Dever and other conservative evangelicals doing these things? Absolutely.

(2) Did my view of Dever change as a result of the meeting? Well, yes. I was extremely impressed with his grasp of New Testament polity has understood historically by Baptists. One of the problems that we face in Baptist Fundamentalism is the high proportion of ministers who have been trained either in interdenominational or in imperialist institutions (or in both at the same time), and who consequently lack a real grasp of New Testament ecclesiology and church order. I grew up in a Fundamentalist environment that prized the Baptist distinctives and that emphasized some of the same things that Dever is now saying. Listening to him was, in a certain sense, like a trip down memory lane. I thought I could hear echoes of Robert T. Ketcham, Paul R. Jackson, and Joseph M. Stowell, Jr. Of course, Dever probably never read any of those men, but he and they have read the same things. And these are things that churches within Baptist Fundamentalism desperately need to remember. [The one exception is his making plural eldership virtually a New Testament requirement for every church.]

(3) How hopeful am I that Dever and other conservative evangelicals will come to a better understanding of separation? About as hopeful as I am that the FBF will. There was a day when I would have said it could never happen in either direction, but I am now watching it happen in both. On the FBF side, I am tremendously encouraged by the voices of some of the present leadership, including some of the things that John Vaughn has said privately. When I look at leaders like Mike Harding, Rick Cross, Aaron Young, Mark Minnick, Ken Endean, or Stephen Jones, I am extremely encouraged. These guys get it. While I would never suggest that they endorse my every decision, I see myself as right where they are. They and men like them represent the voice of reason within Fundamentalism today.

Having said that, I am also encouraged by some of the things that I have seen on the conservative evangelical side. When James MacDonald and Mark Driscoll took an essentially neo-evangelical position in the Great Elephant Room Fiasco, Dever did the right thing and separated. Phil Johnson, Carl Trueman, and others went ever further, spanking MacDonald and Driscoll publicly at a time when their conduct demanded it. While I am not where those men are on some issues, it is not an accident that MacDonald excoriated them as “discernmentalists.” For a while, they were looking downright Fundamentalistic. I am not prepared to embrace them at every level, but I am also not prepared to allow them to be treated like enemies of the faith.

I’ve not yet dealt with all your questions, but this is probably enough for one post. I’ll try to get to the rest before the day is out.

Please keep in mind as you read that I am giving you off-the-cuff answers here, and that I am speaking in very broad generalizations. If you press me, I’ll want to qualify them in all sorts of ways.

Kevin

Don,

Let me resume where I left.

(4) Having asked about the Lansdale meeting, you enquire more broadly whether I think my interactions with conservative evangelicals are having a positive effect upon them. Let me answer this question in three ways. First, I think that you are overrating the number and quality of my interactions with conservative evangelicals. They are busy men, and so am I. Furthermore, we are busy with different things. Unless something occurs that brings us together, we simply do not see one another or talk to each other. The truth is that I have never initiated any of those conversations (except for one or two where I was going to be offering critiques, and allowed them to see the critique and challenge it before I published it). Every formal conversation has been initiated by someone else, and, virtually without exception, has involved some explanation or defense of the Fundamentalist position. I think that most of what conservative evangelicals know about me, they get from reading what I have published. Truthfully, I have not sought out interaction with them, but I refuse to run from it either. It is an honor to have the opportunity to defend biblical Fundamentalism before those who either reject it or who do not understand it.

Second, yes, I do think that these interactions (such as they are) have a fairly positive influence—more in some cases than in others. The problem is that it’s not always clear where the influences are coming from, so I’m reluctant to claim credit for good decisions to which conservative evangelicals have come. At minimum, however, I hope to reinforce those decisions and to encourage further good ones. Just one example: years ago, Al Mohler was one of the signatories of the Manhattan Declaration, which resulted in his extending Christian recognition to Roman Catholics. Mine was only one of a host of voices that questioned the theological integrity of this decision. I highly doubt that my small contributions had much (or even anything) to do with Mohler’s change of mind about the Manhattan declaration, but he himself later acknowledged that it had “crossed the line into an unwarranted and unbiblical recognition of the Roman Catholic Church” (Spectrum, 85). Someone influenced him positively, and I’m happy to cheer the result.

[Nota Bene: there is a biblical term for this kind of change of mind. That term is metanoia, and it is ordinarily translated by the English word repentance. In other words, Al Mohler has indeed biblically repented of his signing of the Manhattan Declaration. If you should ever read someone who says that he has not, then mark that person down as either uninformed or mendacious. If mendacious, then that person is not only a liar, but also a character assassin (or, if we take Jesus’ word for it, a murderer). You should keep that assessment in mind when you read whatever else he says. Such dishonorable persons warrant biblical separation. No good-faith conversation with them is possible.]

Third, a conversation is not always for the benefit of the person with whom it is carried on. Sometimes it is carried on for the benefit of bystanders—of those who overhear it. Most of the reason that I get involved in these conversations is because they provide a platform to publicly articulate the case for biblical Fundamentalism (and, incidentally, against unbiblical versions that claim to be Fundamentalism). On my view, one of the worst things that has happened to Fundamentalism during the last half century is that we have only talked to ourselves, never allowing our ideas to be tested in the public square. That failure has left some very bad ideas unchallenged, while it has permitted the best ideas to seem weaker than they really are. I believe that this failure is one of the significant reasons that young men leave Fundamentalism for arenas in which they see their elders standing up and defending their principles against real opponents.

It’s one thing for someone to attack John MacArthur (e.g.) in the pages of a book that one has had printed by a vanity press and sells to his small circle of friends. It’s another thing to have to stand on the platform in front of MacArthur, explain your ideas, and show why they are better than his. People are most legitimately convinced when they see our ideas tested and vindicated.

By the way, I see that you’ve already replied to the first part of my answer. Let me finish answering your original questions, and then if time allows, I’ll circle back and try to engage your further observations.

Kevin

Don,

Now, for your next question:

(5) Do I think that my interaction with conservative evangelicals has had any negative consequences for younger Fundamentalists who are watching me? This is another question that does not permit a straightforward yes or no answer. It’s like asking whether the invention of the Internet has had any negative consequences for Christians. The answer can only be, Yes, of course it has. You could list the negatives as well as I can. Yet here we are, both of us employing the Internet in our conversation with each other. Evidently, we both have concluded that the benefits of the Internet (rightly used) outweigh its liabilities (wrongly used). I frame the answer in these terms because this kind of evaluation requires at least two judgments.

The first is the simple judgment of costs versus benefits. This is actually the easier judgment. All we have to do is to decide whether we get more out of the technology than it takes away from us. This is pure accounting.

The second judgment, however, has to do with intent, use, and consequences. I am referring here to what is sometimes called the “principle of double effect.” Sometimes when we do good things, bad things also result. Examples abound. An engineer designs a highway upon which some people are killed, but the highway may (mutatis mutandis) be a good thing in itself. A hostage is killed by sniper fire that is aimed at a terrorist, but the death of the terrorist may (mutatis mutandis) have been the best thing under the circumstances. A young woman takes her own life out of despair because the object of her affections has proposed to another woman, yet his proposal may (mutatis mutandis) have been a good thing in itself.

Our most virtuous acts may sometimes produce evil effects that, while real and perhaps even foreseeable, are not the intention of the act. The engineer was not trying to cause people to crash. The sniper was not aiming for the hostage. The young man was not hoping to drive a young woman to despair. In all three cases, the unintended effects might even have been predictable—but that does not mean that the action should never have been taken. By the same token, we might be able to foresee bad uses to which depraved people will put our virtuous words and deeds, but we may be right to speak and do them anyway.

To return to your question, a certain number of young men who grew up in Fundamentalism have become enamored with conservative evangelical leaders. At one level, that is understandable, for these leaders do a great deal of good. At another level, however, it is possible for their admiration to become thoughtless in a way that ignores or downplays real and important issues. If a young man is simply looking for an excuse to abandon the Fundamentalist structures in which he was reared, then I can foresee that he will use my words and deeds as part of his excuse to do so. When he does, however, he will have to ignore the limitations and parameters upon which I insist. In other words, he will have appropriated parts of my position while inconsistently ignoring other parts.

I concede that all of this is foreseeable. It is, however, beside the point. We are obligated to give an answer, not to merely ourselves, but to every man who asks a reason concerning the hope that is within us. This principle, I think, applies to anyone who inquires concerning any aspect of the system of faith. So, to put it bluntly, I am happy to go anywhere, any time to defend biblical Christianity (including Fundamentalism) for anyone. This is no less true in the case of brothers who are very like us than it is in the case of unbelievers who hate us.

At the end of the day, for every young man who uses me as his excuse to leave Fundamentalism, ten more find encouragement to stay and to try to build a Fundamentalism worth saving. Still, the question is not what Fundamentalism as a movement gets out of it. The question is whether it is the right thing to try to do. If so, then unintended secondary effects cannot make it wrong. The fact that sinful people can twist the truth should never stop us from proclaiming it.

More needs to be said along the lines of why young men are leaving Fundamentalism. It is not because conservative evangelicals are recruiting them—they are not. It is not because people like Doran or me are encouraging them to leave—we are not. If people like Dave or me thought that some version of evangelicalism was better, we could easily go there. No, I think that young men are leaving more because of what they perceive in Fundamentalism itself, and their perceptions are only enhanced by the fulminations of the periergouzomenōn. They find it impossible to stay within what they think is Fundamentalism, and they don’t know of any alternative other than some broader version of evangelicalism. Perhaps that is a topic to which we can return when I have finished answering your questions.

I am aware that I another question or so to answer, but I probably will not be able to get to it until tomorrow. Sorry for the interruption in conversation.

Kevin