The Narrative-Historical Gospel: Implications for Multifaith Encounters

In light of a reassessment of a definition of the gospel, coupled with a move away from soteriology and heresiology as controlling emphases, what are we to do with the Christian encounter with other religions?

With this post I want to summarize some reflection of mine that have been swirling in my brain for a few years now as it relates to the implications of the study of the historical Jesus, Pauline studies, and how the gospel is properly defined in light of these studies and its narrative-historical aspects. It seems to me that while we have spent a lot of time and scholarship rethinking our understanding of Jesus and Paul, we haven’t made much progress in rethinking how we define the gospel, and certainly not in applications like what it means for the Christian encounter with other religions in the 21st century. My thoughts here are of a summary and thought provoking nature, and are intended to start a dialogue with theologians, missiologists, pastors and others, not be the final word. My hope is that some will see the merit in stepping back and reflecting anew rather than continuing on with our past assumptions.

A few years ago I was a part of Evangelical and Latter-day Saint dialogues in Portland, and in one of our sessions each side was asked to present a summary of their basic worldview. At the time I presented what was a commonly accepted encapsulation of the biblical story understood as creation, fall, redemption and restoration. At the time this made sense to me, but since that presentation I’ve had an opportunity to continue my reading and reflections on the matter. In light of my study in historical Jesus material, the “new perspective on Paul,” and reassessing the Bible in terms of a narrative-historical approach, I now realize my characterization in the Portland dialogue was off base. To be precise, there was absolutely no mention of Israel, nor was the story of Jesus in relation to Israel’s story grounded in narrative-history, but instead it was founded upon theological assumptions without proper narrative-historical moorings.

One of the best sources for narrative-historical explorations is Andrew Perriman and his blog P.OST. He has spent a lot of time over the years discussing the narrative-historical approach to the Bible and the gospel message. One of the posts listed on his website under “Method+” presents a narrative-historical understanding of the gospel:

“The ‘good news’ at the heart of the story begins as an announcement to Israel that its God is about to act both to punish and to restore his people; but (precisely on this basis) it becomes the announcement to the empire that God is no longer willing to overlook its idolatry, immorality and injustices. Paul’s gospel is that God will sooner or later ‘judge’ (in the characteristic biblical sense) the Greek-Roman world by a man whom he has appointed, and that this historical transformation will finally vindicate the refugees from Judaism and the growing numbers of Gentiles who have attached themselves to this Spirit-driven renewal movement. This moment of vindication, when Christ will receive the nations as his inheritance, will mark the beginning of a new age, when he (and the martyrs) will reign at the right hand of the Father over and on behalf of God’s people.

“The story of Jesus includes and anticipates the story of the early believers who had to follow him along a difficult and narrow path leading to life. The New Testament in the first place, as a set of historical documents, describes the life and vocation of an eschatological community, scattered across the whole oikoumenē, which in its supra-national and ecumenical nature, in its solidarity, in its holiness, in its confession of Christ, in its experience of the eschatological Spirit, in its faithfulness and willingness to endure the most severe opposition, represented the claim of Israel’s God to be sovereign over all the gods of the nations.”

Many evangelical readers will be shocked and scandalized at the idea that the gospel and the mission of the church is not primarily about metaphysical process of saving lost souls from hell. I realize that this challenges sacred assumptions, but we evangelicals talk a lot about taking the Bible as an authority. Perhaps a fresh and deeper reflection on the gospel and faithfulness to it in its narrative-historical context might mean discarding cherished assumptions.

For those who aren’t completely put off by a new understanding of the nature of the gospel, Perriman takes it a step further. In a recent post we find the following:

“From a post-Christendom perspective, therefore, it can no longer be held that the mission of the church is simply to continue the so-called “great commission” of Matthew 28:19-20. That was a mission-within-a-mission—an integral part of the story of the end of the age of second temple Judaism and the beginning of European Christendom. If we are going to make disciples from all nations today, we have first to ask why, to what end. What are they needed for?

“Secondly, the mission of the church is not to participate in a work of redemption primarily, any more than it was of Israel before it. The salvation of lost souls is not the raison d’être of the church, despite the massive prominence given to the task in traditional evangelicalism. It is at most a secondary or subsidiary function. The more recent socially and environmentally sensitive emphasis on the redemption of creation actually has no biblical basis whatsoever. To speak of the transformation of societies as the object of mission has more merit but needs to be qualified historically.”

If Perriman is correct (and I think scholars like N.T. Wright have also reached the same conclusion), then the gospel is properly understood differently than a “get out of hell free card.” This has great implications for how Christians relate to those in other religions. For many years now the church has primarily approached the subject of other religions framed by the perspectives of concern for soteriology and heresiology (which is related to concerns over soteriology as well as boundary maintenance). On the one hand we evangelize their adherents to help them get into heaven, and on the other hand we engage in doctrinal contrast and apologetic refutation because of belief and worldview differences. But if the proper understanding of the gospel isn’t guided by an overriding concern for lost souls and evangelism, what does this mean for how the church should live in a religiously plural world?

I don’t pretend to have much by way of answers on this. I do find some of Perriman’s suggestions in his recent post quoted above of interest where he writes that a particular form of existence in the world is key:

”The church exists, in the first place, as a ‘new creation,’ which means that it exists as a social-religious entity in the midst of the nations and cultures of the world. As such, its purpose, at base level, is to live out the creational ideal of a righteous, flourishing human society in dynamic relationship with the God who made the heavens and the earth. The vocation goes back to the renewal of the creation mandate in the promises made to Abraham and his family: they will be blessed, they will be fruitful, they will multiply, and will fill the land that God will give them. This ideal way of being is often called “shalom,” from the Hebrew word for “peace,” but I think that this is misleading. Shalom is not human flourishing; it is a necessary condition for human flourishing.”

This suggestion has great appeal for me given my work in religious diplomacy and peacemaking. For many years I pursued culturally-sensitive evangelism to adherents of new religious movements, but one day it dawned on me that I had given little thought about how to live as a faithful and loving Christian in the midst of religious pluralism and among those who choose not to embrace the Christian gospel. What does it mean to live in cruciform, hospitable, and neighborly ways among the religions? I’ve spent the last several years trying to discover, explore, and live that out.

I’m quite sure that as a result of this post many readers will question my theology, perhaps even my Evangelical or broader Christian bona fides. So be it. But it seems to me that we haven’t given much thought about the implications of a narrative-historical approach to understanding the gospel in general, let alone what it means for multifaith encounters.