We all love to be part of a movement, don’t we? There is a kind of exhilaration that comes with being part of something that has energy and excitement. There is a kind of spiritual thrill that comes with being part of something that is premised upon sound doctrine and fixated on the gospel of Jesus Christ. This is what compelled so many to associate themselves with what was varyingly labeled “New Calvinism,” “Young, Restless, Reformed,” or the “Gospel-Centered Movement.”

Lest We Drift

It is a bit strange, only twenty years after it all began, to read what is already a kind of post-mortem of the movement. Yet that is a part of what Jared Wilson offers in his new book Lest We Drift: Five Departure Dangers from the One True Gospel. In its pages he asks: What went wrong with this movement? How did it gain such momentum, then lose it again? What mistakes were made and how can we avoid them in the future?

Let me pause for a moment to address the matter of nomenclature. I have never been a fan of the term “gospel-centered.” I generally eschew it because I find it novel (new to the Christian lexicon) and abstract (difficult to understand and apply). Nevertheless, it is the term Wilson uses for the movement and he defines it this way: “Gospel-centrality as a concept is essentially a summation of historic Reformed theology and Protestant spirituality that adherents would argue are as old as the Bible. … in its paradigmatic sense, gospel-centrality is shorthand for a Reformed understanding of biblical spirituality, bringing with it distinct truth claims that give the ideology substantial implications for life and ministry.” At some point, a movement based on Reformed theology was challenged to become a movement based on gospel-centrality. In my estimation, it never quite took and never quite worked. But let’s press on.

Wilson begins with a short biography of himself that could easily be the biography of so many people who had come to faith in seeker-friendly churches but then began to long for something more—a faith that had more content and more substance. Through the new technology of the internet, they encountered John Piper, R.C. Sproul, Tim Keller, Mark Driscoll, or some of the other prominent preachers or teachers. Before long they had embraced Reformed theology and, in many cases, the idea of gospel-centeredness. But that was then and this is now.

More and more leaders my age who once seemed so committed to the ministry philosophy of gospel-centrality now seem to have moved on. And they haven’t all migrated to the same place. The balkanization of the young, restless, and Reformed tribe has resulted in silos and splinters, some more substantial than others. They run the gamut from social gospel–style progressivism and Christian “wokeness” to right-wing political syncretism and legalistic fundamentalism. Even among the numbers who still hold to the doctrinal claims of Reformed theology and its implications for gospel ministry, there are now a number of factions and divisions along political and cultural lines. I thought we were “together for the gospel.”

Didn’t we all, at least for a time? Wilson’s particular concern is the idea and doctrine he has championed and defended for all this time: gospel-centrality.

Gospel-centrality really is God’s way for the Christian life and church. Gospel-centrality really is biblical. But part of doggedly committing to the centrality of Christ’s finished work in all things is being sober-minded—aware of our own inclinations to add to, subtract from, or otherwise attempt to enhance or augment the powerful work of the Holy Spirit through the message of grace in Christ. It’s not enough to be aware of how Mark Driscoll and others drifted. It’s our own drift that calls for our attention.

This drift is the concern at the heart of his book. Understanding what happened is the theme of the first couple of chapters and understanding the consequences is the theme of the next five.

So what happened?

For this particular armchair coroner, the primary cause of death was that the influencers and authorities of gospel-centrality failed to rise to the occasion of quickly changing cultural challenges and threats to theological orthodoxy. The movement’s thought leaders were assimilated into the pacifying (and compromising) swamps of “Big Eva” and thus lost their reformational fire—and their reformational credibility.

If you were along for the ride, you’ll appreciate his history of the movement’s rise and fall, and perhaps sometimes cringe as you remember some of its defining moments.

But more important than this is his warning about five different kinds of drift, which are not drifts from a movement but drifts from the gospel. Hence, whether or not you are “gospel-centered,” you will benefit from reading and considering them.

He begins with a drift into victimhood and explains that if we root our identity in anything other than Christ, we effectively place ourselves at the center and can soon become convinced we are victims of society or circumstances. “The cross does not secure your body from victimization,” he says. “But it does secure your identity from victimhood.” He then discusses the all-too-common drift into dryness in which Christ no longer thrills our souls and we go casting about for different kinds of delight. This will always lead to spiritual dryness and drift. “Religiosity cannot ultimately keep us from apostasy. If anything, it might expedite it, as we find it harder and harder to keep up the religious efforts without a renewed heart. The machinery of ‘spirituality’ cannot move for long without the oil of spiritual vitality. And this spiritual vitality can come only from friendship with Jesus.”

Wilson warns as well about the kind of superficiality that weds Christianity to a consumerist culture and the kind of pragmatism that replaces trust in Scripture with confidence in whatever methods appear to be effective. A chapter that may take some by surprise in a movement characterized by its commitment to the gospel is one about the temptation of legalism, for “the leaven of legalism is subtler than we realize.” We may think our focus on the gospel inoculates us against legalism, but legalism can take on new and deceptive forms. “We see the new legalism at work in evangelicalism today when we conflate secondary and even tertiary doctrines with primary ones. We see it at work when we prioritize cultural conformity over gospel unity and insist on extrabiblical litmus tests for orthodoxy that are more in line with tribal affiliations than with Christian communion.” A concluding chapter pleads with Christians to be aware of the tendency and temptation to drift—to leave behind the gospel and center the Christian life and the Christian church on anything else, anything less.

I have read most of Wilson’s books over the years and appreciate this one as much as any of them. His telling of history is both interesting and illuminating (though I think there could have been more said about the role of women in popularizing the movement such as writers like Gloria Furman, Emily Jensen, and Laura Wifler who rose with the movement and carried it to their demographic of young moms). Of more importance is his focused and timely warnings about both the tendency to drift and the specific ways in which each of us is prone to drift. No matter what movement we are part of or what label we prefer to wear, as long as we are “Christian,” these chapters are pure gold.

I believe in church membership. I believe in membership as a practical matter that allows a church to function well. But even more so, I believe in membership as a biblical matter that allows a church to faithfully follow the Scriptures.

I suppose we ought to define our term. While acknowledging that membership can vary from church to church and context to context, the essential core is some kind of a formal agreement between the institution of a local church and the people who make up that church—an agreement that these individuals belong to that church in a way others do not. Hence, you are free to visit Grace Fellowship Church and participate in its worship services, but we will regard you a little differently than we regard the members. For example, you will not be able to conduct the business of the church and neither will you be permitted to participate in all of the church’s ministries. Some privileges and responsibilities are the exclusive domain of the members—those who are formally affiliated with the church.

With that in mind, let me offer some reasons why I believe church membership is a crucial practice for a healthy church.

Church membership makes sense of a Christian’s obligation to other Christians. The New Testament is replete with instructions on how Christians are to relate to other believers. Yet many of these commands can either only be carried out or can best be carried out in local contexts. You may be able to bear my burdens from a thousand miles away, but those who are closer are much more able. And so membership answers this question: Who are the people I am especially called to love? Or who am I primarily meant to serve with the gifts God has given me? It narrows the answer from the entire global church to one specific congregation. To become a member of a church is to say that these are the people God has most explicitly called me to love, serve, and pray for. These people are my “one another.”

Church membership makes sense of a Christian’s obligation to his spiritual leaders. Hebrews 13:17, for example, instructs Christians to “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account.” Are Christians to obey and submit to all Christian leaders? Or are they to obey and submit to particular Christian leaders? It makes the most sense to understand this command as local, as saying that Christians are to submit to and obey the leaders of their own local church. This means, of course, that they must be formally associated with that church.

Church membership makes sense of a pastor’s obligation to his church. All Christians are called to obey and submit while elders or pastors (words I use interchangeably) are called to keep watch—and to keep watch in such a way that they are prepared to give an account to God for the souls that have been entrusted to them. Whose souls will God demand an account of? Will every pastor be responsible for every Christian in the world? Or perhaps every Christian who walks through the doors of his church? It seems intuitive that pastors will be responsible for the souls of those who formally place themselves under their care. Church membership makes sense of all of these relationships—Christian to Christian, Christian to pastor, and pastor to Christian.

Church membership protects Christians. Christians walk a perilous path in this world and face the fierce enemies of the world, the flesh, and the devil. Little wonder, then, that God has given Christians pastors to watch over them and guard them. Yet in most churches, pastors only consider themselves responsible for the people who formally associate themselves with that church. Christians who will not join the membership of a church fail to have God’s appointed overseers keeping watch over their souls.

Church membership guards the Lord’s Supper. Let’s set aside the matter of how a church welcomes visitors to the Lord’s Supper and focus instead on the people who regularly attend that church. We all acknowledge it is a grave matter when a church treats the Lord’s Supper flippantly and fails to keep people from “eating and drinking judgment on themselves.” Thus most churches follow some kind of a pattern in which an individual must be baptized (in baptistic churches) or make a public profession of faith (in paedobaptist churches) before they can participate in the Lord’s Supper. Typically and traditionally, that baptism or profession also begins with (or expands upon) becoming a member of the church. Participating in the Lord’s Supper is a Christian’s joy and responsibility and one that is rightly viewed as being bound to membership and protected by it.

Church membership makes sense of church discipline. Church discipline is a kind of measure of last resort that is meant to give a professed Christian one final opportunity to see the gravity of their sin and to repent of it. When carried out properly, and when an individual remains unrepentant, church discipline results in excommunication—a person being removed from the church. More specifically, the individual is removed from membership in the church. While in many cases they can and should still attend the church’s gatherings where they can hear the gospel, they can no longer do so as members and cannot take the Lord’s Supper since their lack of repentance has caused the church to doubt the genuineness of their faith. In this way, church discipline is an act of grace in which a church puts someone out so they can understand just how gravely they have sinned. Yet it is impossible to put someone out if they aren’t first in. In other words, for someone to be excommunicated they must have first been “incommunicated.” The whole process of church discipline only makes sense when it involves formally joining a church body and then being formally removed from it.

While I freely admit that the words “church membership” are not found in the pages of the Bible, I am increasingly certain that the concept is. It is there because it is an essential mark of a healthy church and a core practice of a healthy Christian.

Sometimes there is almost an embarrassment of riches when it comes to the articles that different Christian writers share through their blogs. Today is one of those days. I trust you’ll enjoy some of the ones I’ve linked to below.

Before you do, please consider pre-ordering Seasons of Sorrow and attending the launch event.
Today’s Kindle deals include some newer and older books.
(Yesterday on the blog: A Concise Guide to the Greatest Letter Ever Written)
Is History History? Identity Politics and Teleologies of the Present
Michael Haykin recommended this article and I’m glad he did. “This trend toward presentism is not confined to historians of the recent past; the entire discipline is lurching in this direction, including a shrinking minority working in premodern fields. If we don’t read the past through the prism of contemporary social justice issues—race, gender, sexuality, nationalism, capitalism—are we doing history that matters?”
Other Billy Graham ‘Rules’? The Modesto Proposal
Speaking of history, I’m thankful David Mathis wrote about this little bit of history. “Ever heard of Elmer Gantry? If not — or if the name only vaguely rings a bell — then you might, like many today, lack an important bit of context for understanding the origins of the so-called ‘Billy Graham Rule.’”
“I Am Unable to Attend”
And sticking with the historical theme, Kim Riddelbarger shares Charles Hodge’s response to an invitation from Pope Pius IX to attend the First Vatican Council.
Christian Employees: They Either Love Jesus Or They’re Obsessed with Sex. Right?
Moving to the present day, Stephen McAlpine says “here’s what really ticks off Christians seeking to live faithful lives in workplaces that are aggressively pushing the Sexular Age onto their employees.”
You’ve Never Heard This (Spiritually) Before
“I’ve seen it happen many times. A new believer is sharing their testimony and when speaking of a moment of breakthrough gospel understanding, they say things like, ‘I had never heard that before.’ ‘That was the first time I heard the gospel.’ ‘No one had previously explained Jesus to me in that way.’ Meanwhile, their longtime believing friend is sitting nearby, with an incredulous look on their face or perhaps a perplexed smile, knowing that that moment was definitely not the first time they had had the gospel presented to them clearly.”
How do I grow in my trust in God when I am struggling to trust Him? (Video)
Sinclair Ferguson offers a helpful answer to those who may question why they are struggling to trust the Lord.
Flashback: 10 Common but Illegitimate Reasons to Divorce
…many people—even Christians—offer reasons to divorce that are not sanctioned by God. Jim Newheiser helpfully outlines a number of these in his book Marriage, Divorce, and Remarriage: Critical Questions and Answers. Here are 10 common but illegitimate reasons to divorce.

Endurance in suffering doesn’t grab our attention, but it is a response so important that it will have value that lasts beyond death. —Ed Welch