The following is an open letter from John Janke. In it he shares an important insight that many Northland alumni tend to forget. I encourage you to read this unique perspective and I post it here without comment.

Almost 11 years ago I went into “hiding.” Moving to the cornfields of Iowa, I stepped away from all labels, institutions, and movements, and began a quest of letting Scripture speak for itself. As a result, I now find myself no longer fitting into any one “box” or under any one label, and that there is only one movement worth fighting for: the cause of Christ. Today I emerge from the cornfields at the urging of a respected friend in order to offer a unique perspective of an institution whose history will reveal a similar journey to my own.        

While thousands of individuals have had vested involvement with Northland for various snippets of time throughout its existence, a rare few have had the opportunity to view it through the eyes of a student, director, staff member, faculty member, and one who had oversight of its satellite schools—from its days as an institute to its present day as a university.

Through my wife, I was acquainted with the philosophy of the school under the first president, Dr. Wooster. Together we witnessed the transition of the institute to the college under Northland’s second president, Dr. Ollila. While Northland was a small school at that time, with approximately 150 students, there was a quiet distrust of the new administration by some of the previous generation of Northland Alumni. His former affiliation with Life Action Ministries brought the philosophy, motives, and direction into question. To my wife and I, however, being a part of Northland was a refreshing change—a place where conservatism was evident, but the harshness and the rule-emphasis way of Christian life was not present. We were challenged by the humility, transparency, and desire for Christ-likeness in the lives of the administration and staff.

While my wife became a faculty member, I joined the staff part time in operations management while a work-study student, until in 1989 God led me to accept a full-time position. For the next 10 years I would work closely with all of the Administration, observing them behind the scenes, learning their heart and philosophy, seeing their flaws, and the depth of their walk with Christ. I am profoundly grateful for their influence on me.

The distrust of the first generation of alumni toward the Ollila leadership reached its boiling point in 1990 as some of the administration became involved with a non-Baptist Covenant Church in the local area. While not attending the Church, they were working with the lay leadership to craft a new constitution and lead them in a more biblical direction. Their assistance to the Church did not revolve as much around the questions of Reformed theology, but rather of doctrinal beliefs as a whole (Yes, I do realize that some see no separation between the two). This “partnership” was attacked and presented as evidence of what had long been suspected: the Ollila direction was one of theological compromise and cooperation with non-Baptists. The controversy swelled to the point of Alumni talking of annulling Association membership for all graduates employed by the College and discussions of whether the Alumni had power to close the College altogether. The result of this controversy was my election to the Presidency of the Association with a mandate to assemble a team to craft a new Association Constitution. The implementation of the new Constitution brought an elimination of officers and the oversight of the Association to Northland control.

My point in sharing this history is to communicate that we have been here before. There were the same questions of the survival of the College and the sad loss of disaffected Alumni. There were those that mourned the loss of what “Northland had always been and stood for.” Nothing would ever be the same. And yet, those voices were wrong.

Yes, Northland did change–over and over again, as is the nature of life. In my 16 years at Northland, it was constantly changing in its practices, associations, and influence. But what never changed were the foundational philosophies and doctrinal beliefs that were established from the very beginning.

While Les Ollila advanced, defined, and refined the Northland concepts of servant-leadership, great commission living, and a passion for God that is fleshed out in everything we do, he was not the one who first introduced them. This grave misconception has been fueled by the short-term experiential history of those who observed the College through the lens of life as students. Long before Les Ollila had ever heard of Northland there existed a man particularly shaped by God named Paul Patz. He was the original one to “climb on a bulldozer and work with the maintenance people.” He was the original example of humility at Northland. It was he who demonstrated the heart of great sacrifice by forgoing personal indulgence by investing tens of millions of dollars into a hardly known institution. Paul Patz is the man who lived a great commission life by founding a camp to reach poor children with the Gospel. It was the vision of a small town farmer to reach the world with the Gospel of Jesus Christ that led to the beginning of Northland Mission, Inc. I do not seek to diminish the impact of Les Ollila—I hold him in very high regard for how God used him in my life. At the same time, I want to make sure that everyone understands that Les advanced and refined a philosophy that already existed. This was God’s plan for him at Northland.

There are important lessons to learn from the history of Northland, from both the battles and the leadership changes. Foremost in my mind is this: Northland belongs to God. It is His purposes and plan for Northland that will be accomplished. The school does not belong to the Alumni, Faculty, Staff, or even the Board. Any who are in authority have been placed there by God, and He will accomplish what He desires. I rest in the truth spoken by Job, “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.” (Job 42:2, ESV)

Second, God uses men in spite of themselves. I served 16 years at Northland, from the early years of Doc. O’s leadership to the end of his Presidency. I worked as a flawed human being amongst flawed human beings. I’m certain that Dr. Olson, a friend of many years, would acknowledge that he, too, is flawed, leads a flawed faculty/staff, and serves under a flawed Board. We are flawed Alumni. Let us not be quick to condemn or judge, but extend to others the mercy we have received from our Father. Let us practice patience and pray—not that God would move others to one’s personal position or views, but rather that He would be glorified and that His agenda would be accomplished. Let us pray that the leadership involved with the College would be strengthened in wisdom and knowledge, that they would seek God’s will, and that God would encourage their wounded and burdened souls. Let us demonstrate and express the love of brethren by which Jesus said that all men will know that we are His followers.

I have never been known as one to speak succinctly, and if you have read this far, thank you for your patience. Will Northland survive and be usable for God? Chris Bruno spoke eloquently in response to this question. But, additionally, please permit me to ask this question: Have you ever failed to the point that you wondered if or why God would ever use you again? I have, many times. Thankfully, He is still choosing to work in and through a new creation infested with an old nature. God bless and Walk Gracefully.

John Janke

Having been married to an infertile woman for ten years, I know that Mother’s Day was an especially difficult day and I began to dislike the fact that churches totally ignored the pain of the barren woman on that day. I started realizing that Mother’s Day is a sentimental holiday, but Sunday is the Lord’s Day for all of God’s people. Mother’s Day is often difficult for single women also, knowing that they will probably never have a chance to be a mother. Having been in ministry for twenty years I have witnessed how Mother’s Day also conjures up bad memories of bad mothers for many dear Christian people or how it becomes an especially painful time for people who have lost their mother recently. In fact, last year my cousin took his seven children from ages 14 down to 3 to the graveside of their mother on Mother’s Day, the first Mother’s Day since she had gone to heaven. Interestingly enough, we have found over the years that some women get offended if we do not hand out flowers or make a big deal on Mother’s Day so I thought that it would be a good thing to remind our core people (the ones that actually read this letter!) that we are thoughtful about the day and believe that we are most Christlike if we make Sunday primarily about the Lord and His Church where no one feels disenfranchised or inadequate or unloved.

Honoring mother is a commandment; one of the Ten. We should do it all the time. Therefore, we do encourage families to make a day of it. We do honor motherhood and we do want you to spoil that dear lady grandly. We have pared down our normal Sunday schedule to make that possible for you and we hope you take advantage of it.

For all the brothers and sisters that are not made happy by Mother’s Day, please know that our greatest joy is a shared joy: it’s Jesus Christ and Sunday is your day as much as it is anyone else’s. Every Sunday, and even this Mother’s Day, is the Lord’s Day.

Finally, as we look to the future, we have voted to adopt the historic New Hampshire Baptist Confession of Faith from 1853 as a provisional statement of faith. Our president, board of directors, and Bible faculty wholeheartedly affirm this statement. However, we also have a team working to build on this foundation to create a statement of faith that includes Northland’s institutional distinctives.

I am writing totally independent and without any official capacity. This must be clear. But I’ve been pretty close to the situation and the guys that invited me to the table know that I’ll write about what I want to write about anyway. So here’s some of my personal thoughts on the issue.

First of all, pay attention to the words “provisional statement.” That should clearly mean to anyone paying attention that this is sufficient for now. It implies that more will be forthcoming. The reason for this is that anyone close to NIU knows that it is in a crisis of identity. Who is Northland? What is Northland? Where is Northland going? Which constituency is Northland listening to? Thus, it is important that fundamental issues of identity be immediately settled. That’s what this provisional statement does.

When a boy wants to find a wife he wants to identify any prospective wife as a girl. It is imperative to the boy that the identity of the prospective wife be a girl or he’s not even attracted to start a conversation and does not bother to ask the person out on a date. Being a girl is an essential identity for being a boy’s wife. This is why if a girl wants to be the boy’s wife it is not only imperative that she be a girl, but that she look like a girl. If the boy is attracted he may start a conversation and the conversation may lead to love and marriage. This provisional statement coming out of NIU is a statement of essential identity. Anyone that wants to court NIU will know what NIU is essentially. So, let the conversation begin if you’re attracted.

Since I was in on the discussion and actually suggested the NHBC 1833 before it was set aside for the 1853 revision I know some of the thinking that was behind this decision. While there are plenty of Baptists and historians who would disagree, it is fair to say that enough people understand a confession to be an affirmation of what we are while a doctrinal statement which is far more extensive in detail details what we must believe to work together.

For example, Leon McBeth, a distinguished Baptist historian said,

“Baptists have always been a confessional people and not a creedal people. A creed excludes, and a confession includes. A creed tells you what you must believe, and a confession affirms what you do believe.”

It is true that many Baptists use statement of faith, creed, doctrinal statement, and confession interchangeably. Most would agree that the difference is really in the application of the statement and not so much in the content of the statement. This is certainly probably the easiest way to think about it, but I would say that the application of the statement may affect what content is essential for the creed/confession/statement of faith/doctrinal statement. For example, a confession may say, “This is what we are and what we agree on.” A doctrinal statement might say, “This is what we must agree on to work together.” A confession, in this sense, is quite inclusive. A doctrinal statement in this vein of thought, is more exclusive.

But it is very hard to draft a new exclusive statement about who’s out when we are not even certain if we are all on the same page about who’s in. And it’s quite possible that the definition of in will actually define out for some who thought they were in. And that’s fine. A Baptist Confession says who’s in and excludes, for example, paedo-baptists before the conversation even begins.

A Confession is a starting point. A doctrinal statement will eventually be hammered out. And that is going to be a lot more exciting. After all, it was relatively easy to ascertain the Baptistic convictions of everyone wanting to be involved in the discussion at a Baptist college. The less essential, but nonetheless very important, distinctions are up for discussion, debate, and — I’m sure — some heated disagreement at times. I may find myself edged out and that’s fine. I have no official capacity. It’s the way it works when you’re getting to know each other. After a date or two we might break up.

Anyone who can agree with the confession is included and, obviously, this includes people who have different eschatological views, different views on worship, different views on campus conduct, and different views on beverages.  Some are strictly Coca-Cola; others are strongly in favor of Pepsi. However, no one can come to the table to debate unless they are confessional baptists.

This mattered to me as an alumnus who had the special privilege of being around when all this was going down this past week. I was not certain everyone was a Baptist. I had reasons to believe that peripherals could not be debated until core was agreed upon. On my own initiative and with the help of a staff member I secured a signed statement by everyone on the Bible faculty and from my friend Matt Olson stating their conviction that the New Hampshire Confession of 1853 states their personal convictions and that if they were to ever change from that view they would make that change known to the rest of us (whoever that is). It’s not legally binding. It’s not very formal. It may even be cheesy (but I was thinking on the fly), but if a man’s yea is to be yea then it is a least a record that I have in my desk that the entire Bible faculty at Northland International University and the current President are confessional baptists.

And that’s a good thing. We can go on another date.

It’s also good because the founder of Northland Ministries was a Baptist. It was important to him and it is important to his children. What is less important to the Patz family (and certainly the grandchildren of the founder) is that it stay in the orb of a particular fundamentalist movement. That doesn’t matter to me either.

The New Hampshire Baptist Confession has been a standard confession accepted broadly by conservative and fundamental Baptists. Many fundamental baptists claimed to stand on the NHBC. In fact, Bethel Baptist Church of Schaumburg, Il, a bastion of movement/secondary-separationist fundamentalists even had the NHBC on their website as their standard of faith. This confession is a statement that ought to reassure all Baptists, whether fundamentalists or “progressives,” that the discussions on everything to follow has a common ground. It’s Christian. It’s Baptist.

And that’s reassuring. For Christian Baptists anyway.

Besides the above, here are some of my personal reasons why I think the NHBC is good for this time (and, again, I’m writing for me alone):

1. It was immediately recognized by the Patz family members that I talked to as a foundational statement in the church where they grew up in with their father, the founder of Northland Ministries.
2. It eliminates doubt about the motivation of future arguments to come over distinctives and philosophy of ministry.
3. It unites. This does not divide us. It unites us around a common confession that serves as a balm to our souls in a time of concern.
4. It is pastoral in that it focuses us on the fundamental issues and forces us to acknowledge other matters as of secondary importance.
5. We had a long discussion about Article 15 on “The Sabbath.” In fact, it’s why the 1833 got canned. We decided that the 1853 was tamed down enough that it could be interpreted in a non-sabbatarian way (although plenty of my critical friends are already picking it apart.) We discussed saying, “We affirm the NHBC minus Article 15,” but then we’d have some angry critics squawking about how we don’t even go to church on Sunday. My understanding of the 1853 revision and how it was applied was that it was deliberately toning down the Sabbatarian emphasis and basically saying, “Go to church on Sunday.” It’s definitely a weak spot, but if that’s the weak spot, fine! I, for one, think it’s a sin to not use the means of grace given to God’s people almost universally and exclusively on Sunday and it’s such an amazing day I call it “the Lord’s Day.” So, if you want to quibble with that, critics, go ahead. There are larger fish to fry for those of us really concerned about NIU’s future.
6. The NHBC is known for being agreeable to Calvinists and non-Calvinists alike. Transparently, I wouldn’t have minded the 1689 London Confession (with some minor qualifications), but that would have made NIU much less attractive to many people.

All in all, good days are ahead. I don’t know what the future of NIU is, but I know that future discussions are grounded in the fact that we are confessional baptists with a small b. There is going to be a lively discussion about capitalizing the b in the future. For now, NIU has just publicly confessed their essential identity. Something you’d expect in a “Confession.”

And I find that attractive.

NOTE: Anybody can read this. Only those really interested in Northland should, although everybody’s welcome. But this post is for a particular target audience.

My alma mater is in a crisis. The cliché that crisis in Chinese is made up of two symbols combining danger and opportunity is not actually true, but it is true nonetheless that a crisis is often a jumbled concoction of opportunity with danger. This is where my alma mater stands.

The crisis is a combustible mixture of dire financial straits and ideological division. On Thursday, April 25, 2013, the president of NIU was summarily fired along with a few others in the administration. This sudden action by the board surprised many and put the faculty, staff, and student body that was largely loyal to the president and his direction in an emotional tailspin. But the dismissal was not necessarily without merit, though many would argue that it was unjust. Matt Olson and his team had been leading NIU on a dangerous journey from narrow fundamentalism to a broader and — in my view — more biblical understanding of Christian fellowship and association. This dangerous route from one narrow constituency to a new and broader constituency was fraught with difficulty and no man, no matter how genius his leadership, could possibly steer through the relational, philosophical, theological, and ideological minefield without something blowing up.

Something blew up. There were managerial mistakes.

And leadership has to own it. The board rightly thought that Dr. Olson and his team had failed in some areas and needed to bear the responsibility for the impending financial crisis and the increasing ire of a fundamentalist constituency. And so, with little warning and questionable process, they canned the president. That was Thursday, April 25.

When there is a void of leadership, leaders step up. Whether they are good or bad leaders is up for grabs, but anyone with any kind of leadership bone in him knows intuitively when there is a leadership void and cannot help but act upon his leadership instinct if he has any kind of interest whatsoever in the matter. There was a rush to fill the void. The cell phone companies love crises like these.

Boiled down, the crisis NIU is in is financial and directional. And it is the directional crisis that is the one that is most controversial and sensitive. Money matters are matters of math; you can either pay for it or you can’t. Directional issues, as in where is the leader taking us, are matters of conviction, theology, culture, tradition, relationships, and ideology. Those who did not like the direction that Dr. Olson had chosen were prepared with a plan to arrest the direction, return the school to its previous form of fundamentalism, and lock in on an ideology of secondary separation and movement-defined associations. (In other words, fundamentalism with a Independent Fundamental Baptist-MBBC-BJU flavor.) Within a week after the surprise firing of the president a candidate was proposed who was deeply entrenched in the network that is fundamentalism. He also happened to be the brother of one of the board members with credentials that would impress cronies, but not be able to stand against the scrutiny of serious examination by people with a mind to protect and rebuild the credibility of the university. He was also available because he didn’t have a job. A golden opportunity.

A quagmire of mixed messages ensued. Though the pretext for the sudden firing of the president was about one of management, the hasty proposal of an unqualified candidate deeply ensconced in a MBBC/BJU/IBC brotherhood was the clear signal of disfavor for the direction that Dr. Olson had taken. Was he being rebuked for his lack of business acumen or was he being given the boot because the direction was not acceptable? Was he being fired for sin with money or was he being relieved of duty for the sins of association? Or both?The faculty and administration along with the student body was in a state of confusion, but not in turmoil. Dr. Olson had displayed remarkable grace and poise in announcing his termination and the board had displayed Christian charity in allowing him to guide the students and staff by being the first to announce the news and setting the tone for a proper, biblical response. On Monday, April 29, Dr. Olson with grace and dignity publicly announced that he had been dismissed and pastorally set the tone for responding appropriately.

These are all brothers. And though there has been failure on all sides, the general timbre of tone has been one of humility. On all sides. In the providence of God I got to see some things from a real close perspective. I was scheduled to preach in chapel on Friday, May 3 and although there had been some suggestions by some on the other side of the argument over direction (the movement-fundemantalists) if I should be allowed to speak, I nonetheless was retained and I did not shirk to do what any leader would do; I made it clear which direction I thought was good for NIU. Thus, though entirely unexpected because I had been scheduled months before, I was able to walk around the campus and feel the atmosphere, speak to key players, pray with people, and shiver in the cold. Most of my conversation was with people directly related to the board, although I did get to spend quality time with Dr. Olson.  I appreciate both board and administration and I am impressed by the difficulty of their task. I was able to ask some very direct questions of both board and administration and was moved by the absence of rancor and the candid admission of uncomfortable facts. The board is a humble board and on Friday, May 3 they apologized to the faculty and staff for the process with a sweetness of disposition that brought tears to my eyes. They appealed to brothers and sisters to be patient because we(all of us who care) are in this together.

I do not know how all of this will resolve itself, but I am interested and invested as much as I can possibly be, praying and talking and praying and talking. If you care, do the same. We are all stewards of our influence.

Money aside, the struggle at my alma mater is about the heart and soul of the institution and the direction it has been going. NIU is making some decisions; decisions that they have put on the back burner as long as they can because decisions divide. As Tony Blair said, “to decide is to divide.” Every dad knows this. You’re in the car talking about where to go for lunch and no one can decide, although every one has suggestions and feelings and desires. Everybody says, “I don’t really care. Just choose something.” As soon as dad chooses, “What? Oh, groan! You ALWAYS want to go there.” And so forth. To decide is to divide.

Simplistically put, the division of feelings at NIU is about whether it should continue in the direction it has been going or return to the more narrow confines of movement-fundamentalism with stricter rules, one kind of music, and a much smaller pool of Christian leaders to draw from. You either like the direction away from fundamentalism or  you don’t.

But it’s more complicated than that. While many of us like the direction, we are not certain if we like NIU’s destination. I am one alumnus that will exert all my energy and limited influence to help NIU stay on the path that it has been following for the last 25 years and not return to fundamentalism. But whether or not I will lift a finger for NIU in the future remains to be seen. I, like many, wonder where NIU is going. Northland has not only got to decide if they are ready to leave fundamentalism, but they must decide if they are going to be conservative. The slippery slope argument is so effective in these kinds of things because people rightly remember institutions taking these same kinds of steps and then ending up in theological liberalism. Erroneously, they decide that the best argument against changes, therefore, is that changes are slippery slopes toward theological liberalism. This is fallacious reasoning and most critical and honest thinkers reject it. But it is true, nonetheless, that for a fundamentalist school to turn conservative it must make the same initial changes that are necessary if it wants to go liberal. Step one is to get unshackled from movement-fundamentalism and its network of leaders.

And I heartily endorse that step. Will that happen at NIU? This remains to be seen.

I would encourage my fellow alumni to consider two very basic principles as we watch our alma mater decide.

First, fundamentalism is not a guarantor of conservatism; freedom is. 

The hot topics surrounding changes from fundamentalism are often centered on cultural issues of dress and music and lifestyle. It is deeply believed that fundamentalism is a guarantor of conservative music, dress, and lifestyle. But this is a superficial belief not borne out by the evidence of history. Furthermore, to be conservative is impossible for someone who does not have the freedom to be liberal. One cannot brag about being thrifty and not spending money if one has no money; he’s just poor. Many fundamentalists are incensed by the claim of some that they are not gospel-centered, but they miss the point. We are not saying that they do not know the gospel, nor are we saying that all evangelicals are gospel-centered. We are not saying that we do not like conservatism in dress, music, and lifestyle. Nor are we merely talking about “the plan of salvation.” What we are saying is that the Good News of the whole counsel of God as revealed in His Word is the exclusive guardian of our radically free souls! If NIU as an institution is to be conservative, it must be free first.

J. Gresham Machen and John Murray and  others saw the dangers of movement-fundamentalism and tried to articulate a Christian conservatism that differentiated itself from the movement of fundamentalism. Machen’s classic work, Christianity vs. Liberalism, by the title alone, seems to be an effort to suggest that the alternative to liberalism was not just fundamentalism, but Christianity. Biblical Christianity was another alternative to movement-fundamentalism in response to liberalism, he tried to say. John Murray warned against the dangers inherent in setting standards of holiness as gauges of one’s Christian standing.

“Many … Christians today seek to impose standards of conduct and criteria of holiness that have no warrant from Scripture and that even in some cases cut athwart Scripture principles, precepts and example.  The adoption of extra-scriptural rules and regulations have sometimes been made to appear very necessary and even commendable.  But we must not judge according to the appearance but judge righteous judgment. Such impositions are an attack upon the sufficiency of Scripture and the holiness of God, for they subtly imply that the standard of holiness God had given us in His Word is not adequate and needs to be supplemented by our additions and importations. When properly analyzed this attitude of mind is gravely wicked.  It is an invasion upon our God-given liberty just because it is an invasion upon the sufficiency of the law of God, the perfect law of liberty.

It is therefore, appearances to the contrary, a thoroughly antinomian frame of mind.

It evinces a lamentable lack of jealousy for the perfection of Scripture and invariably, if not corrected and renounced, leads to an ethical losseness in the matter of express divine commands.

In the words of Professor R. B. Kuiper, ‘The man who today forbids what God allows, tomorrow will allow what God forbids.’”

~ John Murray

As an alumnus of NIU I firmly believe that the best hope of solid, conservative Gospel fidelity is for NIU to be free. And that is the direction it has pursued up to this point.  There are some expressions of their growing freedom that I personally object to, but they are not free to not do debatable things until they are free to do debatable things. A person is not free to be conservative with his money until he is free to spend money. One is not free to choose a more conservative music until he is free to choose a more contemporary music. What is done in freedom is the truest expression of who we are. And I believe that the amazing truth of the Gospel is that we have been set free. All things are lawful to us, though not all things are expedient. But we are not really free to make decisions of expediency on things that are forbidden.

I stand in strong support of NIU’s direction to this point because of the fact that fundamentalism is not a guarantor of conservatism. And I am conservative.

Second, fundamentalism is a movement of sub-movements  premised on the untenable doctrine of secondary separation that disproportionately emphasizes separation over the more-emphasized doctrine of the Body of Christ that is revealed in Scripture.

One important component of interpretation is to sense the mood and tenor of the author through his writings. The author’s emphasis is made increasingly clear by repetition, metaphor, and in many other overt and subtle ways. Without doubt, the emphasis of Scripture is that God looks down upon His Church as one people. It is clear that separation is taught and all Christians practice separation to a certain degree. We may argue about the wisdom of certain decisions pertaining to separation and fellowship. We may make mistakes. We may sin. But we cannot legalistically define exactly how that is supposed to look and work in any given context and wrest a few Scripture texts out of the context of the entire emphasis of the Bible to elevate our understanding of separation as the key distinction that separates us from the rest of the Body of Christ. This is sectarianism and that, according to Paul, is a fruit of the flesh. It will result in an extra-biblical categorization of who is in and who is out. And it is impossible to practice consistently despite the creation of a theory called secondary separation.

Secondary separation is wrangled over even by its most ardent practitioners. This past week I asked the board member who was leading the coup to replace Dr. Olson what his concept of secondary separation looked like and he hemmed and hawed, saying that there are “many ways to define it” and essentially gave me no answer. What the four of us heard in that non-answer is, “We’ll practice it the way my good ole-boys want it to be practiced.”

Fundamentalism, despite the best efforts of some very gifted men to say otherwise, is an ideological movement premised on the doctrine of secondary separation. One professor said that fundamentalism is a commendable idea. Whether he is right or not is irrelevant to the reality that fundamentalism is now more than an idea, it is an ideology of separation that emphasizes secondary separation. Conservatism is an idea; fundamentalism is an ideology. And at the center of that ideology is a devotion to the practice of secondary separation.

No proponent of secondary separation has ever been able to practice it consistently and it has therefore always resulted in sectarianism and cronyism where sub-movements within the movement agree on which inconsistencies they will allow. And they will sniff disapprovingly of the other sub-movements with their alternate variations of secondary separation. Thus, for example,  one who has consistently harped that those who fellowship with Southern Baptists should be separated from because of the SBC’s associations with questionable things suddenly ignores this hard fast rule when his protege is both a professor in a SBC school and an elder in a SBC church even though the SBC is still rife with questionable associations. Most everyone in his collective of secondary-separationists take it in stride. It’s politics as usual. Secondary separation, for them, is an adjustable doctrine and malleable by the sheer influence of cronyism.

Northland International University needs to take a Gospel stand against secondary separation if it is ever going to be a solid, conservative school. If NIU is going to be faithful to the fundamentals of our faith and thrive in happy obedience to the full counsel of God in matters of life and practice, it must disentangle itself from fundamentalism. It must also take a practical business stand against cronyism if it is ever to enjoy the fruit of the larger Body of Christ and survive.

Where is NIU going? I am not sure. But I know that its direction has been rightly moving it away from the grip of movement-fundamentalism and I support that. Board, administration, alumni, and friends are humbly discussing and earnestly praying. We are not all in agreement on direction, but we are agreement in affection: we love Jesus and we love Northland.

Not all dangerous roads are bad. Perhaps the sleeping giant of NIU’s alumni will be aroused out of its disengagement and receive the institution that first pointed them to the glory of the larger Body of Christ even as long as 25 years ago. And perhaps NIU will find that this dangerous road has led them from the incubator of a movement to the warmth of real home.

And perhaps the danger of this moment will be its greatest opportunity.

Pastor Bunyan knew what biblical friendship was and in the section immediately following the Valley of Humiliation he begins his lesson on Christian friendship that will continue throughout the rest of the work. Three vital points are made at the outset of the relationship between Christian and Faithful that I think it are very important for Jesus followers to grasp.

Friendship is about the pilgrimage. “Then I saw in my dream, they went very lovingly on together, and had sweet discourse of all things that had happened to them in their pilgrimage.”

They went on together. They talked about what they had been through prior to their meeting. The questions we must ask ourselves are these: Why do we want friends? What do we expect from friendship? What is the goal of friendship? I want the teens in my church and in my home to understand that if we want friends for any other reason than to help us in our pilgrimage to heaven, we’re self-lovers. If we expect from friendship anything more than what God intends to give through friendship then we have made a god out of friendship. And if our goal for friendship is anything different than the glory of God, and the prioritizing of God first in our life, then our friendship is an idol to us.

Friendship is divinely appointed. “My honored and well-beloved brother Faithful, I am glad that I have overtaken you; and that God has so tempered our spirits that we can walk as companions. . .”

You can’t be friends with everyone. Nor should you. Friendship that is the kind that helps you become a better person and gives you a sense of God’s love is rare. Relationships in mankind are naturally broken and disrupted. And while we seek peace with all men, friendship that helps us along is done by the gracious work of Sovereign appointment. God tempers the spirits of two people in such a way that they can walk as companions. The problem for many people (especially teens) is that they do not want the friends that God has appointed. They want cool friends or more friends. But Christians who love God are usually blessed with a good friendship once they begin to realize what it is that God has designed for them in friendship.

(As a side note, many people think that church is the place to find friends or have lots of friends. This is not necessarily true. Pastors notoriously have few or no friends within their church. I don’t think this is ideal, but I think it is realistic. Church is not a social club and people who enter and exit one church body after another in search of a place where they can really fit in are idolizing an ideal of friendship that is not healthy. God may or may not “so temper” the spirit of a person or two in your local church for you to have a wonderful friendship, but you should not expect to have this kind of friendship with everybody or most everybody even within the confines of your small local church.)

Friendship is contingent on mutual affections. Said Faithful as they first met, “I had thought, dear friend, to have had your company quite from our town, but you did get the start of me, wherefore I was forced to come thus much of the way alone.”

The gist of the friendship that Pastor John Bunyan illustrates in his story is that real friendship is contingent on deeply shared mutual affections. Insofar as one did not love the Lord of the Hill and was not seeking the Heavenly City there was necessary loneliness. Most teens and too many adults do not know how to find good friends because they have not yet figured out what they love most. Until we know what we really, really long for we can never discover true friendship.

Finally, Friendship is temporal. Some friendships are for life. But this is rare. Death takes one before the other. Usually Providence sends the two in different directions. Often one slides back and the other presses forward. We can never fully enjoy friendships until we grasp that every friendship in life is temporal. Marriage is bound together by a ’til death do us part’ vow. But friendships are not held by this authoritative vow. And even in solid marriages, friendship often comes and goes, strengthens and wanes. Simply put, the best friendships, the ones we crave, are the

divinely appointed and temporarily granted tempering of the spirits of two human beings who share the same joys and needs to encourage them in their difficult walk to the Heavenly City.

My Lutheran friends would strenuously disagree. And I beg their forgiveness. It must irk them to know that “Lutheran” is used pejoratively by evangelicals as code for boring and traditionalist. I don’t blame them.

But worship forms and liturgical forms (redundancy alert) are near and dear to my heart. I do not know how my actual worship practices are viewed by all the people reading this, but let me make myself vulnerable while making myself clear by bulleted points in no order of priority.

1. Our church follows a lectionary and loosely follows the liturgical calendar.
2. Every Sunday morning worship follows loosely, but carefully, a liturgical form that conscientiously includes a/call to worship, b/confession (often read congregationally), c/consecration, d/communion, and e/benediction. Yes, that is a form.
3. We do communion (a form) every Lord’s Day (very uncool) and practice the physical breaking of the bread because we understand that form  (breaking of bread) to be a significant symbol. We also walk to the table and receive the elements in open, visible, meal-like fellowship. Every Sunday.
4. I wear a suit most Sundays. And I actually have little problem with the concept of pastoral robes, but that is not who/where we are.
5. The final benediction is almost-weekly a word-for-word recitation of the benediction from Numbers 6.
6. This morning I used the form that Jesus gave to pray out loud with my daughter, the “Lord’s Prayer.” For me, the Lord’s Prayer is a form that demonstrates how a good worship form can both personalize and de-individualize worship. It’s personalized in that Jesus mercifully sees the busyness of my day and the weakness of my flesh and gives me a form to use in which I can go to my room, shut the door, kneel down and pray with exact recitation six petitions, get up and go on with my day. Sometimes I pray longer. Sometimes the Lord’s Prayer is more like a guide for me. Sometimes I read a lot of God’s Word. But sometimes I can only do exactly what I was commanded and with grateful heart for a kind Father that doesn’t require too much of me, I use the form, word-for-word, and go on with my day, having not even read the Bible. It de-individualizes worship because the focus of the prayer is our, us, we and not mine, me, and I. This is what good worship form does.
7. I do not like a lot of CCM worship songs precisely because they personalize worship, but do not de-individualize it. Closing one’s eyes and slipping into a privatized world is appropriate with these forms. It’s also one reason why I do not like the common practice of privatizing the Lord’s Table at church by having people bow their heads, close their eyes, and become excessively introspective.
8. We use hymns every Sunday. My favorite hymnal is Hymns of Grace & Glory.
9. Every Sunday I sense some form that we used to be not fully adequate, in my opinion, to express the emotion and depth of the message. Except Communion. And one reason we do it every single week is because it’s the one form that is absolutely certain to do what it is supposed to do because Jesus commanded it, specified it, and blesses it with His special participation. By it we know that Christ is preached adequately even if I, the preacher, fail.
10. We use drums for some songs, just a cajon for others, strings, piano, and just voices.
11. We have had people leave our church in the same month for two different reasons: the music was bad (because we have drums) and the music was “lutheran” (because we have hymns). I have literally had people in line to talk with me after church on Sunday when, first, I was told how worldly our music was and, immediately followed up by the next person, how unbearably old-fashioned we are.
12. By the above statement I do not mean to imply that we are “balanced.” Everybody says that they’re balanced! I do not think we’re balanced. I think we’re messed up. But we “sin” boldly, because everything we do, we do in the Name of the Lord Jesus Christ and beg His mercy. Furthermore, we pray with thanksgiving almost every Sunday for churches with different forms of worship by name from our church pulpit.
13. I personally could be very happy in a church where the highest forms of music and beauty were exclusively used, but the local church and the ambassadorial ministry of reconciliation is not about what any of us want personally.
14. I categorically reject the idea that form is irrelevant.
15. I categorically reject the idea that form is so important that to use anything but the best form is to demonstrate wrong affections. It is, in fact, because of my affections for Jesus and His Body that I personally sing along with His people even when they are using a form that is less than the best medium for their message.
16. It is also why I sing along with them when they’re using the best form possible for the message but may be doing it without heart. Thus, I say:
17. Liturgical/worship forms that are best are those that both personalize and de-individualize worship.
18. I categorically reject the notion that difference of form alone justifies non-cooperation or  separation from other bodies of God’s people, although I do think that there are justifiable reasons for non-cooperation and separation.
19. We know we don’t get it right. In fact, we may be egregiously wrong in some things. But we are in Christ, and by Christ, and through Christ, by faith. In the Beloved we are accepted. Therefore, we “sin boldly.”

Now, fire away.

Don’t be led astray by various kinds of strange teachings; for it is good for the heart to be established by grace and not by foods [forms], since those involved in them have not benefited (Hebrews 13:9).

The charge of heresy from fundamentalists has lost its sting. They’ve used that for everything from downsizing the bus ministry to becoming ashamed of culottes. This is not to say that heresy does not exist. Heresy, the opinion or doctrine at variance with orthodox opinion or doctrine, is for real. But when fundamentalists start to talk about real heresy they generally have to quote non-fundamentalists that they’ve already labeled as heretics to support their claims. Otherwise they don’t have any credibility even among themselves about what and who is heretical, as in really heretical! In other words, when it actually comes to fundamental doctrines, fundamentalists reference “heretics” for credibility in their defense of the fundamentals, but when it comes to fake heresies they reference only fundamentalists.

There are some exceptions, of course, because they latch on to some rare statement from an outsider and try to get so much mileage out of the statement that they end up spinning these concessions to appear as if the authors are giving a wholesale endorsement of the entire movement. Two examples immediately come to mind:

1. Kirsopp Lake’s description of fundamentalism quoted in Beale’s history of American Fundamentalism, “The Pursuit of Purity” in which he says the “Bible and the corpus theologicum of the Church is on the Fundamentalist’s side.” And, more recently,
2. Rick Phillips’ claim that fundamentalists get antithesis on the Reformation 21 blog, something that as an insider I would say I never understood while deep in the belly of the movement. (The truth is that for the average fundamentalist lifestyle is not about antithesis, but conformity.)

Both of these statements and several like them are used ad nauseam by fundamentalists in strained efforts to spice up their side-dishes of variant teachings. The fact that Kirsopp Lake’s concession was about the historic fundamentalists of the early 1900s is conveniently downplayed. And Phillips was conceding one point and only one point: that he saw in the fundamentalists of a particular institution a willing embrace of the concept of antithesis that is not so evident in “broad evangelicalism.” Basically, he was saying, “These guys are closer to me than many in broad evangelicalism when it comes to understanding antithesis.” That his definition of “broad evangelicalism” extends beyond people who go to the T4G Conference and listen to CCM is also conveniently downplayed since the fundamentalists’ definition of “broad evangelicalism” includes anyone that is not Baptist Fundamentalist. And even though he said it way back in 2007 on one blog entry, it’s going down in fundamentalist lore as one of the great concessions of the ages.

Fundamentalists have cried the alarm for so many fake heresies over the years that when it really matters, when a real wolf is coming after the sheep and the little boy who cries wolf needs to be believed, they always tap into the writings of Christian brothers who are guilty of one or more of these many fake heresies because no one believes the little boy who cries wolf anymore.

But despite the occasional affirmation of the orthodoxy of some tenets of their movement from outsiders that the fundamentalists ironically crave, the great majority of angst within fundamentalism is over fake heresies. The fake heresies have ranged from reading the NIV to not reproducing a form of “secondary separation” in relationships as “Doc” implemented. Fake heresies have included listening to CCM or, worse, using a drum in worship. The tricky fake heresies — the ones that require some brain labor in order not to be deceived — are the ones that have the names of real heresies but are defined wrongly. It is a real heresy to disbelieve the inspiration of Scripture. But it’s a fake heresy to think that using the ESV is an abandonment of the inspiration of Scripture. It is a real heresy to not have godly religious affections; but it’s a fake heresy to think that godly religious affections are almost exclusively about conservative form in worship. Or even that form is of primary importance to those concerned about religious affections.

So, pooh-pooh on the heresy charge if it comes from them. It’s the charge of stupidity that’s much more intimidating these days.

To be fair, I do not think that these people have actually said that those who don’t agree with them are dumb. (At least a quick word search in their archives of “dumb” does not immediately reveal evidence of this.) It’s just inferred. The new wave of fundamentalist intellectualism is just like the old wave of fundamentalist anti-intellectualism. Its tactics are the same. They’re not as attached to the term “fundamentalism” as the previous generation because they’re much more sophisticated in their thinking. They like “conservative” better. But they are still very much the same. Instead of making you feel like you’re a heretic by virtue of the fact that you diverge ever so slightly from their opinion on all matters, they make you feel like a dummy for diverging from their opinion on just a few matters. And dumb people just don’t get how holy God is.

They make you feel like your worship is second-rate, that you’re a half-wit if you can’t grasp their casuistry, and that you are guilty of heteropathy. They don’t shun you by running you out of their circles; they shun you by talking all about any position that differs from theirs as worldly and ignorant. They’ll talk with you by talking down to you. They’ll even go to church with you because they must. (There are so few churches that get what real worship is all about, after all.) One of their own boasts of simply refusing to sing with his congregation when the driveling bauble of simpleton worshipers he must associate with sings songs beneath his standards of orthopathy. Having the religious affections of a person grateful to be making a joyful noise with the blood-bought, covenanted people of God doesn’t overcome his devotion to form. Like Michal peering through the lattice of the upper window, they scorn the bad form of joy-driven God-lovers dancing among the people.

They’re separatists by condescension. They don’t practice separation; they practice superiority. And that separates them.

These people will talk all day long about the tri-unity of orthodoxy, orthopraxy, and orthopathy and the poor average Christian is embarrassed to admit that he didn’t realize those were not medical terms. The progeny of anti-intellectualism are now wowed by teachers who are not just pushing hyper-separatism in matters of orthodoxy and orthopraxy; these geniuses have extended their legalism into the realm of orthopathy! The descendants of fundamentalism have been so long secretly embarrassed by anti-intellectualism that now they’re being suckered by intellectualism. They’ve actually not gotten any smarter.

While sincere plebeian God-worshipers google orthopathy, others hang their head in shame that they’ve been so naughty as to actually feel happy in their souls about God and His glory with the aid of a form that was once pop culture sixty years ago. Others decide smart people can’t be wrong so they purge their homes of all that is now taboo and start training their consciences to think that the only acceptable worship to God is what has been declared pure by the esteemed critics of culture. The form that is approved does nothing for them, but it has been iconicized by a process of elimination. By it they must worship because all other forms are “heteropathy”.

The fad for superior form is not new. The mood of disdain for inferior forms of worship has been around. It’s come and gone, starting in the fertile imaginations of smart people and dying in cold, empty churches. Now regular people who rarely read are pointed to the mystical poetry of a Faber (for example) and the higher art forms preferred by John Henry Newman, an Anglican-turned-Catholic of the 19^th century Oxford Movement that shared the same mood as these modern fundamentalists. And the mood matters. Of all people, fundamentalists should not be scandalized when their movement and sub-movements gets criticized on the basis of its mood since this was often a strong argument against the neo-evangelicals. (See Pickering in The Tragedy of Compromise: “New Evangelicalism was born with a ‘mood’”).

The only way the modern fundamentalists get away with this is because Joe the Mechanic has been steeped in legalism already and others think that the answer to non-serious worship is to obey those who say their the most serious about it. The older generation of fundamentalists are just relieved to have young men (rare as they are) sounding off in ways that appear very intellectual for once. Thus, evangelicals are taught by fundamentalists that the best spirituality is in the forms best loved by mystical Catholics because mystical Catholics have generally had the highest regard for good form. Their protestantism dismisses many of the other liturgical forms embraced by the same people as if the argument for some did not apply to all. Francis Bacon was right, however, that young men “embrace more than they can hold, stir more than they can quiet, fly to the end without consideration for the means and degrees, and pursue absurdly some few principles which they have chanced upon.”

These experts on worship know if you feel right or feel wrongly on the basis of mere form. Indeed, you cannot be worshiping rightly if you do not use the best forms which they have been good enough to explain to you. You are not worshiping rightly if you use forms that they have tabooed by principles of aesthetics. There is no dispute with them from me about whether their assessment of aesthetics is right. I actually agree. But they know if your feelings are godly or not because, as all misguided worshipers do, they have ascribed too much to the means of worship by their value of aesthetics and religion. Their messages on worship are not much more than an esoteric abstract iconology. For them, it’s all about form.

The original author of “The Religious Affections,” Jonathan Edwards, would be revolted by this bastardization of his beautiful theme. If you want to know what Jonathan Edwards would have felt about worship and religious affections, pay attention to John Piper (few moderns know Edwards better), not the young men with next-to-no pastoral experience at the Religious Affections Ministries. I read them for entertainment, mind-stimulation, thoughtful discussion, and for sometimes profitable insight. I don’t read them for wisdom in ministry. I read them like I read other philosophies that I can learn from without totally imbibing. If you want to be part of the glorious ambassadorial ministry of reconciliation that is bringing in people from every tribe, tongue, nation, and ethnicity, then don’t become part of a movement that gloats in being the best and highest form of what they have always been: They’re Westerners, White, American, Evangelical, Fundamentalists. And it all comes through in an undiluted sub-culture of religious isolationism and superiority.

Theirs seems less like Edwards’ warm evangelicalism of 18th century Christianity and more like the hoity-toity Puseyism of the 19th century. They are a movement that is (rightly) unhappy with the lack of seriousness in worship and in this I commend them. But they have more in common with the Oxford Movement of the 19th century that I mentioned above; not — and I stress this — in theology or ecclesiology, but in ideology and mood. The vehicle of this modern-day fundamentalist Tractarianism is not tracts, but websites. They are embarrassed by all that is low and think that high is synonymous with serious. It is not accidental that they are huge fans of, for example, the poetry of the Anglican-turned-Catholic Frederick William Faber and star of the middle 1800′s pop-culture, Christina Rossetti. High Church and high liturgy and the proponents of this Rome-direction had an unusually high and wonderful standard of art, poetry, and music. For them worship was all about form. And they disproportionately exalted the power of literature and poetry to direct minds to God.

Edwards’ religious affections would not have obsessed so much on forms of worship as this group, partly because when he was talking about the religious affections he was actually talking about the religious affections, not just what forms of worship must look like. He quoted positively a Mr. John Smith who talks about people whose religion is about nothing more than a “piece of art.” They had affections, for sure, and it was all about form and not as much about God, though it had God’s name all over it. And we rightly enjoy much of the poetry that came from sources such as these to this day. The queer Mozart’s Laudate Dominum (Psalm 117) makes me fall to my knees every time I hear it. I dream of the day we can do it in church!

But the point that I insist upon here is that the movement was cold and dead from the beginning, having the “form of godliness, but denying the power thereof” (2 Timothy 3:5). Good form and right feelings can be damnably misguided.

Consider the God-ward, God-glorifying form of the Pharisee in Luke 18:9-14. “I thank thee God that I am not like that poor Chris Tomlin singer over there who shuts his eyes and lifts up his hands with the pitiful, artless, crude hip-swaying style of corrupted orthopathy.” Ah, yes! The feelings of thankfulness were genuine in the Pharisee. He had, in fact, religious affections of sincere gratitude that God — indeed, he credited God! — had not made him as that poor loser in the corner, crying out to God with bad poise, seemingly unconscious of God’s glorious transcendence and preference for hymns. No one had more concern about form worthy of God than the Pharisee. No one. The original author of “The Religious Affections” quotes Smith approvingly, and Smith is unmistakably addressing those with the highest view of God and most worthy form:

Lest their religion might too grossly discover itself to be nothing else but a piece of art, there may be sometimes such extraordinary motions stirred up within them, which may prevent all their own thoughts, that they may seem to be a true operation of the divine life; when yet all this is nothing else but the energy of their own self-love, touched with some fleshly apprehensions of divine things, and excited by them. . .

There are such things in our Christian religion, which when a carnal, unhallowed mind takes the chair and gets the expounding of them, may seem very delicious to the fleshly appetites of men. . .[and how much more if packaged in the best form!]. . .They may seem to themselves to have attained higher than those noble Christians that are gently moved by the natural force of true goodness: they seem to be pleniores Deo (i.e. more full of God) than those that are really informed and actuated by the divine Spirit and do move on steadily and constantly that way toward heaven….

True religion is no piece of artifice; It is no boiling up of our imaginative powers, nor the glowing heats of passion; though these are too often mistake for it, it is a new nature, informing the souls of man; it is a Godlike frame of humility, meekness, self-denial, universal love to God and all true goodness, without partiality, and without hypocrisy, whereby we are taught to know God, and knowing Him to love Him, and conform ourselves as much as may be to all that perfection which shines in Him.

True religion is no piece of artifice. Remember, Smith is not talking to drum people; he’s talking to organ people. He’s not addressing Kinkade kitsch people; he’s describing lovers of real art. When you taboo things, you iconicize other things. They are making an icon (a virtual aid to worship) out of a form of worship by tabooing all other forms of worship, jinxing those forms as sub-par, displeasing to God, and unworthy of God, stultifying the spiritual minds of simple people whose consciences are being bound into fear of enjoying something that is forbidden.

This is not a theoretical, ivory-tower discussion for me. It’s missionary and pastoral. I know people who have sat under their ministries for years trying with earnestness to comply and feeling shame and guilt because they simply could not enjoy the higher forms that were imposed upon them. With embarrassment they secretly enjoyed “Blessed Assurance Jesus is Mine” by Fanny Crosby even though they sheepishly admitted it had been — gasp! — pop music at one time! This is what happens when older pastors follow younger men barely out of their thirties.

I heard one of their own say to the church that is dying under his cold ministry, “Our music is worthy of God. That is the only kind of worship we will do.” Furthermore, they will have practically nothing to do with anyone else in town because of their superiority and though they have drunk to the dregs this philosophy of worship their church languishes on life support, shriveling away. But what form is there that men can do that is worthy of God? Actually, even men’s righteousness — not their sins, their righteousness — is like filthy rags to God (Isaiah 64:6). Music, in and of itself worthy of God is impossible. And this does not deny the aesthetic principle of objective beauty. But if your principles of aesthetics make you believe that because you can objectively determine what is more aesthetically beautiful you can then dogmatically assert what is most pleasing to God then you moved from the religious affections of a saved people to the religious affections of those who merely have affections for the beautifully religious. You thank God that he has not made you like the other uncultured people.

God did not delight in the very forms that He had ordained when the forms became an opportunity for wrong affections. “What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the Lord. I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of well-fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or goats” (Isaiah 1:10). Let Jesus talk about religious affections: “By this all people will know that you are my disciples, that you have love for one another.” Let Paul talk about religious affections: “For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them” (1 Corinthians 9:19). Here’s Jesus again when the worship and ministry police disapproved of his style: “Wisdom is vindicated by her deeds” (Matthew 11:19).

But when form has become so important to you that you celebrate men who refuse to sing with the blood-bought covenanted people of God whenever they sing poetry that is less than the very best, it is you and not the boy with the guitar that is on the slippery slope. God sanctifies music just like He sanctifies His people; with His Word. Indeed, He sanctifies everything in one way: with His Word and prayer. “Everything created by God is good, and nothing should be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, since it is sanctified by the word of God and by prayer” (1 Timothy 4:4-5). Jesus Himself is the ultimate Word that listens to the repetitive and simple chants of boys and, because of His mystical union with us and ours with Him, turns that which comes out of the mouths of intellectual babes praise!

I do not believe they intend this, but the whole RAM is a young man’s movement fueled by older men who, in the main, just don’t get it. They think that the music conservativism of this new generation is the better expression of the music conservativism of the older generation. They are not one and the same. And the younger men know this, but they’re enjoying the adulation of a desperate movement. In reality it’s apples and oranges. The only thing the two ideologies have in common is a practical Gospel-free understanding of worship. These ideologies find it hard to process that Kum Ba Yah, My Lord sung in the Spirit by a group of redeemed saints made one with Christ would be more pleasing to the Holy God than Johann Sebastian Bach’s St. Matthew’s Passion sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. In theory, of course, they would agree. They’re evangelical fundamentalists, after all.

In orthopathy, however, they are the ones that promote a Pharisaical thanking of God that they are better than everyone else. (Individual motives aside; I speak of the fruit of their teaching which I’ve been watching up close in my own city). Theirs is a Christ-less conception of worship. It’s Gospel-free. It’s enraptured by form. It’s old-school fundamentalism. And it has little to do with the religious affections that Jonathan Edwards wrote about.

Edwards said it best: “The notion of certainly discerning another’s state by love flowing out, is not only not founded on reason or Scripture, but it is anti-scriptural, against the rules of Scripture; which say not a word of any such way of judging the state of others as this, but direct us to judge chiefly by the fruits that are seen in them.” And yet they would tell the African-American grandmother that sings her soul out to Jesus with Black gospel that she is diseased in orthopathy. She cannot feel rightly because she uses a form that is not classical European. They could not rejoice with the Burmese refugees that get up in our church from time to time to sing with a guitar and a crude rhythm instrument praises to God in a redeemed form of music that is reminiscent, yes indeed, of the pagan world they left behind. And because Black grandmother and Burmese refugees are unfamiliar with their prescribed iconic forms, Black grandmother and Burmese refugees are hindered in their worship. Along with most regular white people in places like Rockford.

I say look at the fruit. And when you do, you won’t find much.

Hence, blogging. People do not have to pay attention to me! When I preach in church, I’m quite nervous. I try to stay within the framework of God’s clearly revealed Word and catholic doctrine. That is catholic with a small-letter c. People in church are kind of obligated to listen to me. Rarely does anyone just get up and walk out or put on headsets to listen to Andy Stanley instead. They respectfully endure the whole message. Here, not so. Or, at least not necessary. If you pass me up and go somewhere else, I don’t even feel it. Dismiss me. Snub me. I have the rare genius of being emotionally impervious to unfelt and unnoticed slighting.

Dismiss, or read on. Read on and you’re probably nearly as dysfunctional as I am! Or maybe you care as much I do about the gospel, fellowship, friends, and biblical worship. Certainly, the very people I am about to criticize care about these things as well. I think.

Let it be known that I think the critics of NIU actually have some substantive criticism. I also think that somebody somewhere needs to thoughtfully interact with the substance of their criticism. I would like to speak to those issues; not as a defender of NIU or its position (a position that I am not yet fully certain I understand), but as an individual who has friends and frenemies in both camps. I think there are a few people out there who want more options than what seem immediately available in the NIU/anti-NIU battle. It would seem that in this schoolyard kerfuffle you’re forced to choose between joining a gang of bullies or getting on the cheerleaders squad. If you don’t fawningly nod affirmatively to the bullies’ arguments, they’ll make you feel like you’re soft on sin or they’ll castigate you as a cheerleaders’ groupie. And if you don’t flounce around Facebook with Pioneer cheers and jingoisms you’ll make people with a heart cry. I think there is a third group out there that feel there are parts of the bullying of NIU that they secretly do not really sympathize with at all, but they also don’t feel up to being a dumb cheerleader squealing about how much they like sub-zero weather now that they can wear pants.

Controversy in fundamentalism is like the playground. Collectives quickly form. People feel safe in collectives. They pick sides. And the problem is that in fundamentalism, particularly,  you cannot have a discussion until you have dutifully accepted their branding as being in one collective or the other. If you’re in the other you’ll get labeled. Particularly, if you’re the one that is changing anything.  It’s automatic that the one who is changing is bad. And it is almost irrelevant what the one is actually changing. Many who have grown up in the movement can remember the tremors of earth-shattering change when schools adjusted handbooks and made slight modernizations that subjected them to charges of slippery-slope compromise.

In most cases, the one who is changing is subject to one of two brands: you’re either a heretic or an idiot. The bullies make you feel like you have one of two choices. Period. You can swag along behind them and beat your chest or you go play Christian college with the pansies who are gaga about pop-culture. In this sub-culture of fundamentalism there are only two options: repent or regurgitate. Repent of your damnable heresies or regurgitate what they say as gospel truth about every jot and tittle. If you actually try to discuss nuances and subtleties you may get labeled as both a heretic and an idiot. Both! Especially as your argument gets more threatening.

Naturally, this is all quite intimidating.

But tomorrow I’ll enter the playground with a poke in the eye for the big boys who have passed on the old-school fundamentalists’ cuss word, “neo-evangelical,”  that bullied  every pure-hearted follower into meek submission for years simply because they dreaded being perceived as such. These guys have a bigger word that frightens little, uneducated guys like me. . . . heteropathy!

I’m counting the cost, freaked out of my mind that I’ll be forever castigated as an idiot under the bondage of heteropathy…but I think I’ll poke ‘em in the eye anyway.

(And for those of you that don’t get sarcasm, I’m not freaked out. Although I may be an idiot.)

The Anonymous Letter Writer tried to post a defense/rebuttal/answer on my blog as “Anonymous Letter Writer” with the fake email address matt at ni.edu. I suppose this fundamentalist pastor, seriously committed to religious affections, thought it was cute to use the first name of NIU’s president and a fake email address from the institution as part of his disguise. I assume its fakeness because my email was rejected when I sent a letter to that address.

I did not post the anonymous comments because in ten years of blogging I have been consistently opposed to posting anonymous commenters. It’s been my policy all along. However, I got a private message from the editor of The Religious Affections website who sardonically commented to me that he had heard that I had not posted the anonymous pastor’s comments as if I was dodging rebuttal. Well, I have a long-standing record for not being a wimp about attacks on me and the truth is that there was more delicious fodder for fun in that rebuttal that I would have loved to use. In fact, I may exempt myself of my own policy this one time. This is yet to be decided. However, I explained to him that I never did allow anonymous comments, but have always allowed comments on my blog even though they are extremely harsh to me (with a few rare exceptions), and that I wrote to the fake address (thereby discovering it’s fake-ness) seeking to connect. Therefore, in keeping with my policy I wasn’t going to promote it.

Then came the sarcastic push-back. The coup-du-jour, if you will. The ultimate shutter-upper for folks of sensitive conscience such as mine. I was told that I was not ethical to post a copyrighted letter on my website without permission from the website. Clearly, I had no concern about ethics, it was implied.

Ouch! It made me wish I had gone anonymous.

This charge, of course, (I paused to remember) comes from a website that hosted a fundamentalist pastor, with a fake NIU email, posting for thousands to see anonymous attacks. I paused, of course — again — because one does not take lightly the charge of bad ethics coming from highly regarded authorities on religious affections. I’m a bumbling idiot compared to these maestros of religious feelings when it comes to religious affections, but I do have affections for all that is religious and think misjudgment in the ethical management of copyrighted web material is nearly as bad as anonymous attacks on Christian brothers, being that I also have religious affections for brothers. But in the eyes of the authorities of religious affections and worship in the Church of Jesus Christ it is clearly worse.

I therefore paused. To think. To mull it over. Certainly, I was not being told that I could no longer speak to the issue of the anonymous charges flung into cyberspace just days before, was I?

It’s hard to argue against something that was said, but wasn’t. If you know what I mean. They took it down. I have no higher education and thus find it a bit confusing that many who pilloried one institution for posting something on its website and then hastily removing it did not have a problem with their champion posting an anonymous hit piece and then hastily removing it. My feeble mind simply cannot grasp the contradiction. But what is even harder to grasp is that so few in either camp can see the inconsistencies of their own party. But, alas! I went to Northland. Before it was an International University.

I have no PR department, no lawyer, and I do not have the intelligence to pontificate on the orthopathy of everybody. So, instead of hastily removing my offending post, I’ll let my sin hang out there for all to see and work through it as quickly as I can, examining the charges of bad ethics that come from the champions of religious affections. I will plead mercy in the hope that all those scandalized by my transparent error will have religious affections for mercy that are nearly as intense as their religious affections for Bach.

My second piece analyzing the addendum written by the anonymous pastor is already done. Even I, with juvenile grasp on the rules of logic and argumentation, found the deconstruction of that work embarrassingly easy. However, I do not want to post it with the full disclosure of what was said in the anonymous letter (because I have been informed by the editor of religiousaffections.org that that would be unethical), but now must re-write it in a way to quote (without quoting too much) what was said in order to stay within the parameters of copyright legitimacy and thereby leaving myself open to the charge of misrepresenting what was said because I took it out of context; something that they will, of course, take advantage of. Unfortunately, the silliness of the addendum to the anonymous letter from the fundamentalist pastor who agonizes over the loss of religious affections in today’s modern schools will be one of those things that you have to have seen with your own eyes to believe.

There is a lesson in all this. I think we all get it.