PastorJustinDean

My friend @dmichaelclary wrote Loser Theology, and as expected, the book has received some pushback. Some of that criticism seems to come from a fundamental misunderstanding of his argument. Michael isn't arguing that faithful Christians always win politically or culturally, or that suffering and persecution are signs of failure. Nor is he advocating postmillennialism. In fact, Michael is an amillennialist. His argument is that there are certain kinds of theological emphases, often dressed up in pietistic language, that celebrate losing, romanticize suffering, and turn passivity into a Christian virtue. Some of this teaching may be intentional, coming from bad actors who themselves want power and influence while encouraging conservative Christians to surrender theirs. Some comes from well-meaning Christians who simply haven't taken into account everything Scripture teaches about courage, dominion, and victory. And some comes from faithful Christians who rightly want to remind us that God loves His people, even through suffering. But the cumulative effect of all this teaching can create a theological atmosphere that downplays action, boldness, responsibility, and what Michael calls high agency. Rather than encouraging Christians to take responsibility and fight for what is right regardless of the outcome, it can end up baptizing retreat and calling it faithfulness. Michael is writing out of his own experience with this kind of thinking, an experience I share. That's why I found The Gospel Coalition's recent review rather disappointing. It begins fairly enough, acknowledging some of Michael's legitimate concerns, but by the end, the review almost becomes an illustration of the very loser theology Michael is criticizing. The reviewer appeals to the suffering of the early church and the martyrs in Revelation as though this somehow undermines the expectation that Christianity might actually transform nations and cultures. But the fact that the church conquers through suffering does not mean that suffering and apparent defeat are the only historical results of its conquest. The martyrs died, but Rome eventually bowed before Christ. The gospel didn't merely comfort individual souls while leaving the surrounding world untouched. It transformed families, institutions, laws, and civilizations. Now, unlike Michael, I am a postmillennialist, and I believe Scripture gives us every reason to expect the progressive triumph of Christ's kingdom in history. But you don't have to be a postmillennialist to reject the idea that cultural defeat is somehow more spiritual than cultural victory. Nor does believing in Christian victory mean denying the reality or necessity of suffering. The cross itself should settle that question. The cross is the means of Christ's victory, not a theological argument against the historical expansion of His kingdom. And here's the point that keeps getting missed: The opposite of loser theology isn't some triumphalist theology where Christians are going to win so much that we're tired of winning, to borrow a line from Donald Trump. The opposite is high-agency, courageous faithfulness. It's the faith of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego standing before Nebuchadnezzar. Our God is able to deliver us, but even if He doesn't, we're not bowing down. We're going to obey God, stand firm, and fight for what is right, whether He grants us victory now or calls us to suffer. But we're going to fight to win! Nobody goes into battle hoping to "lose one for the Gipper." And nobody is inspired to courage, sacrifice, and bold action by the constant refrain that Christians must lose. We don't measure faithfulness merely by worldly success, but neither do we make worldly defeat the measure of faithfulness. Unfortunately, I think this review ends up demonstrating why Michael's book needed to be written in the first place.