Fred Sanders begins The Deep Things of God with a distinction that is worth making in many areas: the emphatic and the reductionistic. He’s thinking specifically of the Trinity in relation to the many other things that healthy evangelical Christians think about. The emphatic, of course, has to do with emphasis. Sanders asserts that healthy evangelism has landed on a few things for real emphasis: the Bible, the cross, conversion, and heaven. Sanders’s concern is that other key things get loss when things are under-emphasized and forgotten, what he calls an “anemic condition.” An example:
Instead of teaching the full counsel of God (incarnation, ministry of healing and teaching, crucifixion, resurrection, ascension, and second coming), anemic evangelicalism simply shouts its one point of emphasis louder and louder (the cross! the cross! the cross!). But in isolation from the total matrix of Christian truth, the cross doesn’t make the right kind of sense. A message about nothing but the cross is not emphatic. It is reductionistic. The rest of the matrix matters . . . You do not need to say all those things at all times, but you need to have a felt sense of their force behind the things you do say. When that felt sense is not present, or is not somehow communicated to the next generation, emphatic evangelicalism becomes reductionist evangelicalism.
Emphatic evangelicalism can be transformed into reductionist evangelicalism in less than a generation and then become self-perpetuating.
Remembering things you never really even knew is a tricky thing to do.
One of the interesting things about some healthy evangelical Christianity over the last decade or so has been at attempt at “retrieval,” of revisiting the history of the broader Christian tradition and learning from what has been forgotten. It’s a good shift, though I feel like it’s only happening in some pockets here and there. Even still, it is a good reminder that there are important truths and practices waiting to be rediscovered. And with each rediscovery can be asked many good questions: where and when did it start? why was it neglected? when was it forgotten? how can the Spirit bring edification with this rediscovery?
I intended this post to be about both more and less than theology. Because there’s a lot of reductionism going on in the world today, some of it intentional but much of it accidental. It happens in theologies and traditions and organizations and relationships. In the 21st century, it feels like every body of knowledge is overwhelming and in need of some kind of shorthand. Which is all well and good until something vital is inadvertently lost. We would do well to guard against that, though first we’d have to know what we’re guarding (and why it’s worth guarding in the first place). Emphasis, yes. Reductionism, no.
The trip started with a late morning drive from Fresno with my friends and an itinerary made by my friend. The drive up (and down, actually) was beautiful. And long. So when we finally made it to the Tunnel View stop, I was both amazed and relieved. The view was as beautiful as I had hoped. From there, we drove past Bridalveil Falls and into the valley floor. We parked one of our two vehicles at Curry Village and made our way to Yosemite Lodge for some rental bikes. The rest of the afternoon was spent biking around the valley floor, where we ultimately ended up at Mirror Lake (which was neither thanks to the autumn weather). From there we made our way back to YL, dropped off our bikes, and drove back to Curry Village for a pizza dinner. My friends went with me to check in and check out my lodging for the night: a one-bed vinyl tent on a wooden platform with a metal locker outside for food and other things that might attract local bears. At that point, my friends left and I did my best to settle in for the night. I did some walking around that that point, checking out the general store and the communal lodge with its porch and comfy seating. I wanted to see as much of the quiet night sky as I could, but everywhere I went I found talking people, cars still pulling in for the night, and flashlights shining in all directions. Ah well. I did get a better sense of the quiet night sky when I woke up to tip-toe to the communal bathroom after midnight.
The next morning started with a decent amount of sleep achieved. I cleaned the tent up some and made my way to the lodge for breakfast: biscuits and gravy, eggs, and some Lucky Charms (a pleasant mixture of what I would usually eat at a camp). I checked out of the tent and then made my way by foot to Vernal Falls. It was quite the hike, but the view was worth it. After making my way back to the lodge, I took a cherry Coke break and then took the free shuttle to a few different sites in the valley: the Ahwahnee Hotel, lower Yosemite Falls, and finally the El Capitan Meadows. The meadows ended up being my favorite location, both because there were very few people there and because it had lots of trees along with the river.
At that point, I was pretty wiped out. I had thought about ending my trip with a visit to Glacier Point (at the suggestion of my friend), but after starting on the winding road out of the valley, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was somewhere in Oakhurst (a town between Yosemite and Fresno). I have to admit: I’m no fan of winding mountain roads without railing on the side.
Space Enough, and Time 