Preaching apologetically is to preach with the realization that we are proclaiming a message that is true (we are making a truth claim) and that this truth claim is grounded in particular historical events—the doing and dying of Jesus.

“Like A Lion”

You may have heard the quip from the ever-quotable Charles Spurgeon: “The Word of God is like a lion. You don’t have to defend a lion. All you have to do is let the lion loose, and the lion will defend itself.”^[1] There is much truth in Spurgeon’s comment. The pulpit is not the place from which to prove to your hearers that the Bible is the Word of God. The preacher’s job is to let the lion loose.

Before we proceed further let me briefly address the debate over apologetic method within the Reformed tradition and its impact upon my topic. I am of the opinion that B.B. Warfield was correct when contending that apologetics is a distinct theological discipline which belongs in theological prolegomena (the preparation for the doing of theology). This is contrary to the opinion of Abraham Kuyper and Cornelius Van Til who both understood apologetics to be a subset of theology proper.

But Warfield did contend that the theologian (or the pastor in the pulpit) must assume the truth of God’s Word because, presumably, the apologist has already done their work and passed along to the minister the Bible as the authoritative Word of God. Despite a disagreement about where apologetics belongs in the theological encyclopedia, Warfield, Kuyper, and Van Til were in full agreement about one thing—the minister enters the pulpit assuming that he’s about to let the lion loose and no defense of the Bible is needed—hence Spurgeon’s vivid metaphor. There is no disagreement between Reformed evidentialists and presuppositionalists on this point.

When I speak of the relationship between preaching and apologetics I too am affirming that it is not the duty of the pastor to use the pulpit to convince a congregation that the Bible is the Word of God. That discussion can and should be done in catechesis, Bible study, or in venues such as conferences or other forms of focused apologetics training. The minister preaches God’s word assuming every word in the Bible is true because that word was breathed forth by the Holy Spirit through the agency of human authors (2 Timothy 3:16).

Christianity Is a Truth Claim

Therefore, when I speak of preaching “apologetically,” I do not mean trying to convince people that the Bible is the word of God. What I do mean is preaching to a congregation in such a way as to show forth the lion’s huge fangs and sharp claws when the biblical text requires it. Preaching apologetically entails two points which I will raise to reinforce my thesis. The first point is that Christianity at its heart is a truth claim. When Jesus says in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth and the life,” his words echo YHWH’s declaration in Isaiah 43:11, “I am the Lord, and besides me there is no savior.” Jesus is telling his disciples, among other things, that he is God in human flesh, that he is truth incarnate, and that salvation from the guilt and power of sin is found in no one else. Jesus declares himself to be the source and author of life. This is a truth claim. If that which Jesus says of himself is true, then necessarily all other religions and religious claims are false. There cannot be two ways, two truths, or two methods of finding life eternal.

The Bible Speaks of Historical Events as Factually True

The second point is that when speaking of preaching “apologetically” we ought to emphasize that the Bible speaks of those events which make up the biblical narrative (redemptive history) as “true” in the ordinary sense of the term. The events we read about in the Bible–even those in the distant past–are recounted as events which occurred in ordinary history, oftentimes by witnesses and participants. The transcendent God jumps Lessing’s ditch, acting directly in human history, even taking to himself a true human nature in the person of Jesus who was born in Bethlehem when Quirinius was governor of Judea.

Nothing here about any of this taking place in a mythical land far, far, away. Had you been present with your GoPro or your iPhone in the days of Elijah, you might have recorded his encounter with the prophets of Baal. You could even replay the video of fire coming down from heaven consuming the offering, stones, and wood. I have wondered how different the historical Moses might look in contrast to Charlton Heston’s rugged portrayal of him in Cecil B. DeMille’s epic film, The Ten Commandments. Certainly Jethro’s daughters were not all attractive starlets in brilliantly colored costumes. But these movie characters and images do frame (negatively) how people think about the events we preach about from the Scripture. Biblical history in Hollywood’s hands is badly distorted. Our preaching ought to provide a factual corrective to what is at its heart, a truth claim.

Because Christianity is a truth claim grounded in specific historical events, the conclusion is obvious. If these events did not occur as recounted and are merely legendary, then Christianity is making claims which cannot be true and which lose all meaning as a truth claim–the Apostle Paul acknowledges this to be the case in 1 Corinthians 15:17-19. A dead Jesus saves no one. His claims cannot be true.

The Acts of God in History Are Explained

The very idea of God revealing himself and his saving purpose in his word connects God’s redemptive acts to his explanatory speech—speech in which God informs and explains his purposes behind these historical and often miraculous acts. Such speech is indeed a redemptive act in itself. Redemptive acts without sufficient redemptive explanation would remain utterly mysterious and difficult, if not impossible, to understand and interpret. Miraculous events like axe-heads floating and seas parting without explanation become nothing but fodder for the History Channel’s Ancient Aliens. Who other than extra-terrestrial visitors could have done such things?

When preaching then, a minister assumes the Bible is true and is divine speech of the sort which norms all other norms. But the nature of Scripture as the word of God written requires a conviction and an acknowledgment that this word makes an exclusive truth claim, a claim which is grounded in God’s redemptive acts and explanatory speech. Did God act? Did God speak? Does God still speak? The minister preaches assuming the answer to all three questions is a resounding “Yes,” which is why we preach.

My operating assumption throughout what follows is the realization that, in the course of pastoral ministry, we will likely encounter various kinds of people for whom a sermon is a completely foreign concept—certainly foreign in light of a minister’s assumption regarding the delivery of the inspired word from God which we have prepared in the form of a sermon. Far too often people will expect advice, practical wisdom, cheerful exhortations, or the reinforcement of currently held beliefs and opinions. Folk who expect such things from us but don’t get what they are expecting will tune us out, twist our words to suit themselves, or express their displeasure by spending Sundays at home watching football, or visiting other venues which are not quite so threatening and uncomfortable.

To make my case for the necessity of preaching apologetically and to flesh out a bit further what I mean, I begin with four representative ideologies held by people who may be present among us on any given Lord’s Day. Of course, in one sense there are as many ideologies as there are people, and I am obviously generalizing to make my point. But these are fair representative cases I think, so here goes.

“Sheilaism”

First up is Sheila Larson. She’s the founder and sole adherent of “Sheilaism.” Yet her views are quite representative of many Baby Boomers (b. 1946-1964) and even some Gen-Xer’s (who came after them). Ms. Larson and those like her do visit our churches, and often sit under our preaching. Ms. Larson, a nurse, was made famous by Robert Bellah in his 1985 book, Habits of the Heart. Ms. Larson (and those who think as she does) invent and then practice their own religion, oftentimes extensively borrowing religious cliches and stereotypes, all grounded in a self-referential epistemology—“I feel.” The Bible is fine with such folks, but only so long as what they hear does not disrupt their superficial level of feeling. The lens through which adherents and practitioners of Sheilaism tend to evaluate all religious claims, including the ones you’ll be making from the pulpit, is a vague sense of approval, or a cringe of discomfort. A feeling of approval is good. Discomfort is bad.

Ms. Larson’s creed is quoted by Bellah:

“I believe in God. I’m not a religious fanatic. I can’t remember the last time I went to church. My faith has carried me a long way. It’s Sheilaism. Just my own little voice…It’s just try to love yourself and be gentle with yourself. You know, I guess, take care of each other. I think He would want us to take care of each other.”^[2]

Bellah points out the by-now obvious implication; “Sheilaism” creates the logical possibility “of over 300 million American religions, one for each of us.” Bellah notes that Sheilaism is “a perfectly natural expression of current American religious life.” Those who think like Ms. Larson–a surprising large number of middle age and older Americans do—base all religious commitment upon subjective, self-referential feelings and emotions. If Descartes could say “I think, therefore I am” (ironically grounding human knowledge in doubt), a consistent “Sheilaist” might quip, “I feel, therefore its true for me.” This is aptly lampooned by my late Lutheran friend Rod Rosenbladt, who calls such self-referential epistemologies the “liver shiver.”

Moralistic Therapeutic Deism (MTD)

A second ideological category which we will encounter are younger Millennials (those born in the mid-nineties) along with members of Gen-Z (younger still). Young adults and older teens overwhelmingly embrace (without knowing it) a web of vague religious convictions identified as “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism.” “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism” is a label coined by sociologist Christian Smith in his 2005 book, Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers.^[3] Smith’s book was based upon 3000 interviews, conducted by Smith and his co author, Melinda Denton, as part of a project conducted by the “National Study of Youth and Religion.” Smith coined the label “Moralistic Therapeutic Deism” to describe widely-held religious beliefs of American youth (across all religions and cultures). Commonly held beliefs of these “Moralistic Therapeutic Deists” include:

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