We must first recognize that these man-made systems hold no promise. No political, economic, social, or educational system can guarantee the spiritual results sought. Any faith placed in a system is misplaced. The answer is not a system, but a Savior. A Savior who promises his grace will be sufficient, who promises to complete the work started in us, who promises to remain faithful when we are faithless, and who promises that nothing can separate us from his love. So we recognize who we are, who God is, what he has done, and what HE will do

“You may run from sorrow, as we have. Sorrow will find you.” — August Nicholson in The Village

My wife and I (Ted) were in the mood for a ’90s movie, so we rented M. Night Shayamalan’s The Village, which actually came out in 2004 but is still a ’90s movie in terms of its earnestness and desire to be deep. It succeeds (in being deep) inasmuch as it always makes me think about the church, and about trends in the church.

In a nutshell, it’s about a group of academics—all of whom have been deeply wounded by life in a fallen, sinful world—who decide to follow one charismatic leader (William Hurt) into forming an 1800s-style commune on a nature preserve. The idea is that if you take away everything modern and broken and hurtful about the world and replace it with floor-length skirts, suspenders, chickens, and primitive farm equipment, then nothing can hurt you. The movie then spins out a wonderful narrative that illustrates how there is no fleeing from total depravity. It finds us because it is in our hearts to begin with.

Utopia will elude humans, because sin causes the dystopia. Yet we still long for utopia and sometimes try like crazy to create it.

Recently, my friend Derek shared about what life was like growing up inside the Bill Gothard movement in the 1980s and ’90s. His account was utterly fascinating both in terms of how weird it was, and also how eerily similar it sounds (in some ways) to how some Midwestern Reformed families are rolling today with the homeschooling, chicken-raising, huge-family-having, government-disdaining, and so on. The Gothard movement, as far as I can tell, was part life-coaching, part para-church organization, part-homeschool curriculum, part-subculture, and part-arena show.

The Village and the Gothard arc show that in spite of our best efforts, sorrow still finds us. Children still get sick and still sometimes rebel.  We still sometimes rebel and hurt people with our sin. Sorrow found the Gothard/ATI [1] empire recently, amid allegations of years’ worth of sexual misconduct.

There are a few encouraging things that surface in Derek’s story—namely that he came out of the Gothard experience in one piece spiritually and loves the Lord. His story prompts us to talk and think about what happens when people either follow an individual or a set of culturally mandated standards, and end up making those their operative gospel.

Here’s Derek’s story, in his words. [2]

Disclaimer

I had a great childhood. My parents loved me and did their best to raise me and my siblings to be productive, thoughtful Christians. While I may disagree with some of the principles they followed, I cannot begin to even pretend that I have all of the answers. My reflections on my upbringing are a matter of perspective. I have no intention of misrepresenting Bill Gothard’s views or the principles of ATI. I wish to simply share what I felt was overemphasized and underemphasized.

What is the draw?

Our society seems obsessed with systems. Whether raising children or creating your own backyard oasis, someone has a step-by-step guide that will take you to the Promised Land. We also have an obsession with doing things right, so it becomes logical to follow the system that promises the best results. The danger is that we quickly shift the focus from the goal of glorifying God to following a system. We then invest our trust in the effectiveness of the system, rather than the grace of God.

What was it like?

The aspect of ATI that has lingered longest in my life was the expectation of perfection. This idea was applied in a way that overemphasized the role of the individual at the expense of God’s involvement. Furthermore, the categories in which perfection was expected extended beyond scriptural commands. A frustrating cycle of commitment, failure, guilt, and then recommitment pervaded my personal life. My family was not a “perfect” ATI family, so this cycle became a practice for our family as a whole.

The mission of ATI maintained an inward focus. Families isolated themselves from the evil influences of those outside of the system. Much like The Village by M. Night Shyamalan, parents secluded their families from outside threats by threatening their own families with God’s judgment on rebels and sinners. At the very least, the outside world was painted as a place too dangerous for a Christian to live. The fatal flaw in the system (other than being completely contrary to the missional purpose to which we are called), is that sin was treated as an external force, rather than internal. The focus on the external resulted in a forced attempt at an appearance of godliness, while burying internal struggles.

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[1] Which stands for “Advanced Training Institute.” If there was ever a more “’80s-sounding” set of initials and company name, I haven’t found it. Derek is trying to find an ATI T-shirt for me so that I can wear it ironically.

[2] All further footnotes by Ted Kluck.