Book Review - “King Jesus” by Scot McKnight

What is the essence of the Gospel? This is a question that being asked in various circles throughout the church, and it’s the question McKnight seeks to tackle in his latest book “King Jesus”.

McKnight presents a compelling case that the church has unnecessarily shrunk the gospel message to be limited to justification by faith. This reduction, he argues, harms both the church and its impact in the world, because it removes the truth of justification from the broader story of the Bible. Doing so shrinks its message, to use a title from a popular Max Lucado book, to “Six Hours One Friday.” However, he argues, the Biblical gospel was always meant to be more.

In order to prove his case, McKnight defines four larger categories out of which the gospel story should flow: (1) The Story of Israel, (2) The Story of Jesus, (3) The Plan of Salvation, and (4) The Method of Persuasion. McKnight’s primary case is that the term the gospel, and hence, the message of the gospel, has been reduced to contain only the Plan of Salvation without reference and context in the larger story. He argues that the church, then, fails to be “Christian” in the true, biblical sense of the word, and rather becomes more “Soterian,” or those who are concerned solely with salvation. McKnight has no problem with doctrines like justification by faith, but simply argues that by making that doctrine alone the content of the gospel, we lose a large portion of the message of God.

As is typical for McKnight, his arguments are well grounded both in the history of the church and in the Scriptures themselves. His arguments are compelling, and his writing focused. He chooses not to weigh in on the specifics of many current debates such as the nature of justification or the proper theories of the atonement. Rather, he stays focused on this question—“What really is the biblical gospel?” Beginning with Paul, moving into church history, working through the gospels and ultimately to the message of Peter, he presents his case clearly and effectively.

In essence, his argument is pressing into the very common false dichotomy we hear about as we listen to the personal stories of our brothers and sisters in Christ. The statement usually goes something like this: “On so and so day in so and so year, I accepted Jesus as my Savior. However, it wasn’t until years later that I accepted Him as my Lord.” McKnight’s point is that (a) the two are and always have been inseparable, and (b) our way of defining and presenting the gospel has created this false dichotomy. He quotes Michael Bird in saying, “Nero did not throw Christians to the lions because they confessed that ‘Jesus is Lord of my heart.’ It was rather because they confessed that ‘Jesus is Lord of all’…”

McKnight’s points are not new ones. His exegesis and study is typically solid, and his points well presented. While some may not agree with every individual aspect of his conclusions and application, the primary point that he seeks to make he makes very effectively. However, I think his initial case may be a bit overstated. I certainly don’t have McKnight’s experience within the breadth of the Western church, nor his connections with college and seminary students, whose quotes fill up his sidebars in a clear representation that a reduced gospel is quite often what’s being heard. However, I don’t know that many gospel “purists” (thinking of John Piper, whom he quotes extensively, or the folks at 9 Marks, Sovereign Grace, and other such affiliations) would disagree with his primary argument. In the end, McKnight puts forth what feels like more of a refined presentation of the gospel rather than a revision (or revisitation, or even expansion) of the gospel itself. He urges pastors to present the “Plan of Salvation” within the context of the story of the whole Bible, beginning in Genesis 1, and as such, present Jesus as both Savior and Lord. McKnight longs for us, as Jesus did, to embrace the entirety of the Kingdom of God, not simply “personal salvation”. I’m not sure that there are many thinking pastors and churchmen (who are certainly the intended audience for this book) who would disagree.

“King Jesus” is a good addition to the current discussions on the definition of the gospel and the nature of the Kingdom of God. While it may not be groundbreaking, it’s biblically and theologically sound, well thought-out, and will give renewed perspective to those who read it.

Barefoot Church by Brandon Hatmaker, Book Review

For well over a century, the church in the West has swung like a pendulum between two unhealthy extremes. On one side stands the Gospel of Jesus—clearly annunciated, well-parsed, loudly proclaimed, and rarely lived out… at least outside of the walls of the church building. On the other side stands another version of the gospel, although whether it’s the Gospel of Jesus or not is constantly debated. This gospel is one of action, embodied among the poorest of the poor. Inherent in this gospel is the compassion and mercy that so often seems to be missing from the first. However, critics will argue that while the second may embody the ideals of the Christian faith, the message of Christ is strangely absent.

In Hatmaker’s new book, Barefoot Church, he seeks to strike the balance which thinking churchmen have constantly sought to strike: the embodiment of the gospel in social action without the reduction of the clearly proclaimed message of the gospel. Hatmaker, the pastor of Austin New Church (ANC), a church plant in Austin, Texas, would say that the church must be both “missional” and “attractional”. He argues early and often that these two elements, often divided in the church, are fully intended to coexist and in fact “[work] in perfect harmony by taking the focus off ourselves and placing it where it ought to be—on God and others.”

While Hatmaker’s writing may not always be smooth and artful, his arguments are compelling. More than any theoretical argument is the practical reality: he’s doing what he’s writing. The story of the beginning of ANC is wonderfully told and will certainly resonate with evangelical pastors in the West. Pastors can so often feel, like many disenfranchised church-goers, that there must be more. Hatmaker is living at least portions of what that “more” might be. While there may be disagreements with his practice, his passion, heart, humility, and even theology are quite solid and well laid out. His points are well-grounded in Scriptural truth, yet he comes across much more humble than dogmatic.

It’s Hatmaker’s humility that keeps Barefoot Church a winsome recording of ANC’s short history and the values that drive it, rather than descending into a dry recitation of church happenings. His heart is clearly seen throughout the book, which keeps us engaged despite some dry spots in his writing. The book’s biggest weakness is that at times it can feel like a summarized version of several other contemporary works. Extended quotes, multi-point outlines, and seeming chapter or even book summaries can, at times, leave one longing for the source material. However, the first-hand experience and stories of ANC are sprinkled in, which reminds us that this is a real story of a real church plant in a real place, not simply a literature summary.

The strength of the book, beyond the humility and transparency of Hatmaker himself, is chapter 8. The premise of the chapter is simple—the church should look to partner with non-profits, both Christian and non-Christian. Although many other sections of the book have various practical implications, this partnership strategy gives a path for any size church at just about any point in their development to make an incarnational connection both locally and globally. While the concepts are far from earth-shattering, they are presented clearly and can easily leave you thinking: “Of course that’s true. We could easily do that. Why don’t we do that?” While Hatmaker is careful to never present a one-size fits all, cookie-cutter strategy, this chapter contains great ideas and values that easily translate to any North American context.

In all, Barefoot Church is well worth reading. While it may not be a profound work, the changes called for in the church are certainly profound. Years ago, before digital tuning, radios had dials on them and in order to tune a station, you had turn the dial past the station to either side and continually re-correct it until you finally got a clear signal. This book feels like the “tuning” between these two versions of the gospel that rarely seem to coexist—but are finally starting to produce a clear signal.