Reverse Chronological Snobbery?
by Dale Tedder
C.S. Lewis, among others, has winsomely and correctly pointed out that one of the problems of the present day, is the "modern chauvinism" that exists among the intellectual elite of our universities and seminaries. What does modern chauvinism mean? It points to the fact that if an idea was not hatched within the generation of a contemporary writer, it must surely be a poor idea and not worthy of one's attention. A case in point is how some today scoff at the transcendent authority of the Bible because it was written by "pre-scientific" persons of antiquity who could not pretend to know how to address such a "sophisticated age" as ours. Thus, they say, it is useful as a relic of the church, but not much more. I have said before that that kind of thinking is silly, anti-intellectual, and radically inconsistent (for these same persons will run to the Bible to teach us that Jesus included everyone and that God is love).
However, my attention in this commentary is to analyze the notion of a "reverse chronological snobbery." What in the world do I mean by that? Perhaps an example would clarify the point. I mean, and I find this particular version chiefly among mainline, protestant evangelicals, is that "if the early church fathers didn't utter it, it ain't true." Of course, if I was going to err on only one side of the argument, it would be with the early church fathers. There is much to appreciate in who they were and what they accomplished. However, it seems as though there is an unwarranted love affair going on with the first several centuries of Christianity because of a supposed "purity" that existed in their midst. Granted, these men were giants in the church's history. We are indebted to their faithfulness during incredible challenges and persecution. But they did not speak ex cathedra upon those things about which they spoke. Furthermore, they did not create church doctrine but received the revelation of God, (and through his Holy Spirit, systematized His truth for the ages). But they were, in the end, sinful, fragile men, just as we, and therefore, ought not be deified.
Of course, it's not just the early church that is held up to be the final source of authority. Among my reformed brothers and sisters I hear the reformers' names and teachings evoked as the final word on any matter in dispute. Or, among my own beloved United Methodists, John Wesley is often claimed to be the "ontological ground of our being." The list could go on and on. My own shortcoming is in the area of the puritans, Richard Baxter in particular. But I've read enough of Baxter to know that he would scold me for such idolatry and point me to God, His Son, and His revealed word. Dare I miss that point?
Let me conclude by pointing out that the church today is part of a two-thousand year old community of faith. We ought not be so presumptuous and, dare I say arrogant, to suggest that we do not need to look to the past and learn from their victories and failures. In fact, each Christian denomination reveals a particular bias showing whom in church history has influenced their communion. And that is not necessarily a bad thing. Furthermore, as one who esteems sacred scripture as my authority, I look to the past with a reverent awe to carefully study how those who have gone before me have interpreted the particular verses that have my present-day attention. I highly value the saints that God has brought before me. But they are not my source, they are my helpers. To put it another way: the history of the church is an epistemological tool that helps the contemporary church as she seeks God's truth. But our tradition, in and of itself, is not our final authority, regardless of how highly we value it. Even Richard Baxter.