How can I believe that my heavenly Father truly loves me when he won’t take away my insomnia or chronic pain? How can I trust God with my future when my whole world has exploded at the revelation of my spouse’s infidelity? How can I possibly believe that God knows what’s best for me when he calls me to turn from desires that feel completely natural? How can I entrust my child to the Lord when they’re about to inflict irreversible damage on their body?
Living by faith is difficult. We all struggle every day to remember, believe, and make choices based on God’s Word and his promises to us in Christ. Words on a page can feel meaningless when painful circumstances don’t change. What helps us nurture belief in these hard moments, days, and years?
Unbelief Is a Matter of the Heart
Our flesh looks at these situations and says that God hasn’t given us sufficient evidence that he’s worthy of our trust. But faith is not a matter of evidence. Scripture gives us testimony after testimony of people who had abundant evidence to trust God but still chose unbelief. The Israelites saw God perform over a dozen miracles rescuing them from Egypt, culminating in the parting of the Red Sea. And yet, in a matter of days, they doubted God’s ability or desire to keep them alive in the wilderness. Jesus fed over 5,000 men with nothing more than five loaves and two fish. But later, the crowd refused to believe his explanation of the miracle. His followers drastically decreased after this incredible display of his power and sustaining kindness.
Faith is a matter of the heart, not the eyes. Apart from God’s grace, all of us are born with dead hearts that cannot believe what is evident in all creation (Rom. 1:19–20). But in the new birth, God makes our hearts alive, and we believe. This is saving faith. And yet, this heart transplant does not guarantee an easy road of faith. We still struggle, and so much of our struggle with sexual sin comes down to unbelief.
Lies about God, ourselves, and others become powerful arguments for giving in to sin. After all, our heart says, God doesn’t care, God won’t deliver me, God can’t meet me in this moment—but sex can. Sex always delivers, sex has never let me down, and unlike God, sex doesn’t ask me to believe, just feel. Every time we give way to temptation, we’re believing those deceitful arguments and choosing to live in a world that’s fundamentally untrue.
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In sum, LeCroy was wrong and did well to retract his claims and apologize, and Stover was right to publicly oppose him. But in the process he stumbled and suggested things are more hopeful than they are just now. For it is written that we will know men by their fruits (Matt. 7:15-20), and who can deny that the fruits of Revoice and Transluminate and the like have been vile? Strife and quarreling, the driving of people and churches from our fold, the threat of a denominational split, and the shameless public discussion of what it is shameful and dangerous to mention publicly (Eph. 5:3), and which was previously unthinkable, have all hobbled our church. All this has happened because the leaven was not purged at the first infection (1 Cor. 5:6-7; Gal. 5:9), and for that there is much occasion for grief on the part of all of us.

In a recent article Tim LeCroy made some claims to which another Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) minister, Charles Stover, objected in a response. LeCroy’s original article has been withdrawn and replaced with an apology, so I have little inclination to address it directly. But having read the two articles and pondered the matter for a few days I find myself thinking that it is Stover’s article that is the more alarming.
That is perhaps a startling statement, and if you are familiar with my previous writing you will know that I have been quite blunt in responding to LeCroy and to the purportedly now defunct National Partnership of which he was a prominent member. Permit me an explanation. I do not object to Stover’s rebuttals, which accord with the truth and were justified by LeCroy’s original claims. It is rather statements like these that unsettle my conscience terribly:
I had no idea that Missouri Presbytery was meeting regularly to investigate Memorial Presbyterian Church, Transluminate, and Greg Johnson. I was not aware of the impassioned debates and floor speeches being conducted at Presbytery.
And:
I am quick to correct detractors when they accuse our presbytery as being liberal.
For it would seem to me that investigations and impassioned debates do not justice make, at least not as a matter of course. They perhaps produce the appearance of energy and life, but it is their end result that matters, not they themselves.
And what was the end result of all Missouri’s debating and investigating? Were the Presbyterian Church in America’s (PCA) purity and peace increased? No indeed, and it was very much the opposite. The accused seized the investigation as a vindication. He went before the whole nation and exposed his own denomination and his ostensible brethren to ridicule in the eyes of unbelievers – something no believer should ever do to another – and appealed to these investigations and debates as proof that he was guiltless and was subject to needless opposition on the part of others in the PCA.
Let me state it plainly: the many words and the passion notwithstanding, those debates and investigations accomplished nothing beneficial, at least as far as the PCA as a whole is concerned. They did not punish wrong, but rather forced the opponents of wrong to pursue the matter by other means and in other forums. Even now the denomination is greatly absorbed in the matter as it seeks to amend its Book of Church Order to hopefully prevent another similar debacle, a matter which will drag on for the foreseeable future. What should have been put to rest efficiently long ago has festered and spread throughout the whole denomination and occasioned continued disagreements, with no end in sight.
That passion and those debates and investigations do not, as such, suggest that the presbytery in question is solidly orthodox/conservative/sound/faithful or whatever we wish to call it; nor do they commend our processes as fair, efficient, and apt to produce a good result. To the contrary, they suggest inefficiency, delay, and an excessive fondness of words, wrangling, and procedural minutiae, as well as an elevation of process over result and of procedure over its proper end. If it be objected that the churches and elders in question nonetheless confess sound doctrine as expressed in Scripture and in our standards, let me rejoin with a paraphrase of James: ‘You say that you have sound doctrine and holiness apart from discipline; should you not rather show me your soundness in the faith and your zeal for holiness by your discipline?’ For professions of orthodoxy notwithstanding, such an orthodoxy is as dead and useless as the purported faith of James’ readers (2:14-26). It may sparkle in the sun and have the appearance of great majesty; but in the time of testing it proved no more than a façade. It failed utterly, and it did not even do that efficiently.
Now one might say that these are only the rants of a fundamentalist doom monger who has in espousing them committed slander himself. If one is so inclined I invite her or him to look at this and to make the case that this is anything other than slander (my contact info is in the bio line) or that objecting to such a thing is somehow inherently ‘fundamentalist’ or sinful. And I would invite such a person to ask himself these questions: was John a fundamentalist when he objected to Diotrephes “talking wicked nonsense” about him and his companions (3 Jn. 10)? If the answer is no, why then should I be deemed a fundamentalist for opposing someone who showed his character in such unjust malignment as in the tweet linked above?
As for Stover’s claim that Missouri Presbytery is not liberal, let us grant, for the sake of argument, that the public profession of faith of its members is indeed sound. About the most generous thing that can be said in such a case is that, as far as the maintenance of public orthodoxy and discipline is concerned (key phrase), such a conservatism gives cause to say ‘with conservatives such as these, who needs liberals?’ That sounds excessively harsh and uncharitable; but I do not make it, if you can accept it, because I am a hateful fundamentalist provocateur who revels in quarreling. Remember what was being investigated by Missouri Presbytery. Memorial Presbyterian allowed its property to be used for a series of plays promoting and celebrating unnatural sexual confusion (what is called, with doubtful accuracy, ‘transgenderism’).
Now God says in his law that “a woman shall not wear a man’s garment, nor shall a man put on a woman’s cloak, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord your God” (Deut. 22:5). How much worse do you think it is when someone puts on the physique of the other sex and subjects himself or herself to physical mutilation by surgical or chemical means to attain it? Such a thing involves a revolt against nature and against God’s created order itself – which is to say that it is about the pinnacle of impiety. That it is often a result of mental disturbances and past trauma and is attended by a plethora of other miserable mental maladies I grant; but the thing clearly propagates by example. The more acceptable it is, the more common it is; and if anything, the misery to which it reduces its sufferers is all the more reason to refuse to do anything, no matter how slight, that in any way encourages the existence and spread of such a dangerous thing.
Now God also abundantly attests that when his people use that which he has given them to commit abominations in his sight they arouse his anger and jealousy, defile the places in question, and bring God’s curse and just condemnation upon themselves (Lev. 18:24-29; 20:22; Deut. 27:15-68; Isa. 1:28; Jer. 2:7; 16:18; Eze. 36:17-18). He attests further that those who have authority and responsibility to restrain wrong in such cases are solemnly obligated to do so, and that they themselves will suffer his wrath if they fail in this (Ex. 32:25; 1 Sam. 2:12-36; 3:11-13; 2 Chron. 28:19; Rev. 2:14, 20). Now a church in Missouri Presbytery did what was abominable in God’s sight and did what must be considered an act of apostasy after the fashion of the ancient Israelites. And the presbytery’s response was to investigate and issue a report, and not to meaningfully punish the church or its leadership or restrain the evil. Its response was about as effective as Eli’s to his wayward sons, and we see how that ended (1 Sam. 4:17-21).
All of which is to say that conservative or not, professedly orthodox or not, the actual nature of Missouri’s deeds was not productive of orthodoxy and tended strongly in the other direction. That’s a bold claim, admittedly, and it is not everyday that I – who am an insignificant man and vile sinner – accuse an entire presbytery of being derelict in its duty. That is defensible only if my view of things is correct. But if my view is correct, then it would seem to me that Scripture (Zech. 7:9; 8:16; Eph. 4:25) and our standards (WLC Q. 144) require me to speak in such a way, but with much sorrow and the strong hope that there will sincere and full repentance for the future.
In sum, LeCroy was wrong and did well to retract his claims and apologize, and Stover was right to publicly oppose him. But in the process he stumbled and suggested things are more hopeful than they are just now. For it is written that we will know men by their fruits (Matt. 7:15-20), and who can deny that the fruits of Revoice and Transluminate and the like have been vile? Strife and quarreling, the driving of people and churches from our fold, the threat of a denominational split, and the shameless public discussion of what it is shameful and dangerous to mention publicly (Eph. 5:3), and which was previously unthinkable, have all hobbled our church. All this has happened because the leaven was not purged at the first infection (1 Cor. 5:6-7; Gal. 5:9), and for that there is much occasion for grief on the part of all of us.
Tom Hervey is a member of Woodruff Road Presbyterian Church, Five Forks (Simpsonville), SC. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not of necessity reflect those of his church or its leadership or other members. He welcomes comments at the email address provided with his name.
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Book Criticisms: Du Mez will entertain only those arguments that accept her framework and dismiss any theological appeals, because Evangelicalism is not defined by theology, no matter what Evangelicals themselves claim. Once the reader realizes that this is what Du Mez is up to, he can make sense of how it is that she arrives at many of her conclusions. She simply ignores the Evangelical’s own claims about what drives him, and decides to analyze Evangelicalism through the lens of cynicism she has constructed. Du Mez’s slanders are as casual as they are broad.

Evangelicalism has lost its way.
It’s a popular message on the Left in the post-Trump era. The Left never liked Evangelicals to begin with – too conservative, too anti-gay, too public in their objections to the prevailing secular creeds they would say – but Trump, whom Evangelicals supported in droves, gave their critics a new charge to level at them: hypocrisy. These high and mighty moralizers, the Left said, were willing to abandon any principle in pursuit of political power. They had no right to preach to others values they would not practice.
The Evangelical writer David French has been in the thick of this conversation writing on the intersection of evangelical faith, politics, and corruption with such essays as: “Why Christians Bond With Corrupt Leaders,” “A Nation of Christians Is Not Necessarily a Christian Nation,” and “Deconstructing White Evangelical Politics.”
“‘Deconstruction’ is a hot topic in elite Evangelicalism,” French says. “It’s a word with many meanings. At its best it can represent an honest, critical re-examination of not just your personal faith, but also the theology and behavior of your faith community. We should be in a constant process of interrogating our own beliefs and actions in light of the person and example of Jesus Christ. White Evangelical politics are due for deconstruction.”
History, or something else?
Enter Kristin Kobes Du Mez, whose book, Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation, is cited by French as “a compelling and challenging argument.” Du Mez provides a historic account of “[t]he path that ends with John Wayne” – contraposed to Christ – “as an icon of Christianity,” of “rugged, heroic masculinity embodied by cowboys, soldiers, and warriors to point the way forward.” It is the account of a church that has commodified Christianity, intertwined faith and right-wing politics, and “invoked a sense of peril in order to offer fearful followers their own brand of truth and protection” and stoke “[e]vangelical militancy.” It is a church that has forgotten Christ.
We could concede, for sake of argument, some aspects of her account. The various moral failures of major figures in Evangelicalism are well documented. We could also dispute other claims, as various reviewers have here, here, and here. However, so as not to be duplicative of the work of others, we will focus on the foundational problems of her theoretical framework.
The facts recounted in any historical work are important, but so are the uses to which those facts are put, the tools used to analyze those facts, and the conclusions that are drawn from those facts. Accurate details can be both cherry-picked and omitted, and either of those can allow for the creation of a false narrative or leave the reader with a false impression. In short, what we want to know is whether or not the tools and analysis Du Mez employs in the curation of her historical record are sound, and whether or not the conclusions that she draws from that curated record are justified. That is, we want to know whether or not the house of Jesus and John Wayne is built on a solid intellectual foundation, and my contention is that it is not.
Jesus and John Wayne is built on the shifting sand of postmodernism. No Christian interested in her thesis can ignore the implications of her methodology. To embrace her work is to embrace the postmodern deconstruction of Christianity.
To understand Jesus and John Wayne, it is best to see it as a sort of answer to the question: “Why did Evangelical Christians, with their very conservative Christian moral ethics, come to be the backbone of support behind Donald Trump, a man who is infamous for his rude language and known for his (admitted) marital infidelities?” This is the question that Du Mez seeks to answer in her work.
Du Mez attempts to determine what exactly it is that conservative Evangelicals believe about masculinity, and how that relates to their view of who in society should be in positions of power. She claims to uncover the deeper sociological and historical reasons Evangelicals came to hold these views about gender and power. As she does that, Du Mez documents scandal upon scandal among the leadership in Evangelical circles. She places special attention on scandals involving Evangelical leaders at the forefront of fighting “the culture war.” Du Mez pulls up many examples of people who were caught up in financial scandals, sex scandals, abuse scandals, and various cover ups meant to hide all these scandals from public view.
All this she thinks adds up to the conclusions that Evangelicalism is racist, sexist, homophobic, and that Evangelicalism as it stands needs to be “undone.”
Du Mez readily admits that her work is a work of deconstruction, and that she is influenced by the work of postmodern philosopher Michael Foucault.[1] Much of Jesus and John Wayne is a Foucauldian Archeology of Evangelical discourse around masculinity, and a Foucauldian genealogy of how that discourse developed.
If we follow postmodern methods to their ultimate conclusions, they dissolve every belief system and every philosophical framework to which they are applied, including postmodernism itself. A philosophy or method that dissolves everything proves nothing, save for the fact that the philosophy or the method itself is flawed. So it is with postmodernism.
Evangelical Delusions
On her own account, Du Mez is attempting to show that “constructs like ‘Christian worldview’ might reflect the interests of those who fashion them, even at times distorting biblical teaching.” The problem is, she never does a proper analysis of whether or not the doctrines, ideas, and beliefs she criticizes in this way are true.
Rarely does Du Mez argue that the theology of Evangelicals is wrong on the merits. She does not show that they have made an interpretive mistake, nor does she argue, prove, demonstrate, or otherwise show that the tenets of American Evangelicalism are not warranted. Instead, she asserts that they are defined by cultural and political commitments and then draws negative inferences on that basis alone. Du Mez is attempting to tear down the edifice of Evangelical theology by appealing to elements in the sociological situation in which Evangelical theological claims and justifications were formed. On Du Mez’s telling, Evangelicals’ concerns about family were really about sex and power, their views of biblical innerancy were really a proxy for fights about gender, and their opposition to abortion was really about trying to push back against the gains made by feminism. Arguments of this type abound in Jesus and John Wayne.
The method relies on a fallacy that has been rebutted by John Searle, namely:
If we have justifications for our beliefs, and if the justifications meet rational criteria, then the fact that there are all sorts of elements in our social situation that incline us to believe one thing rather than another may be of historical or psychological interest but it is really quite beside the point of the justifications and of the truth or falsity of the original claim.[2]
This is the heart of the problem with Du Mez’s book. Her account of Evangelicals – they are animated by wrong motives, hidden agendas, unfair biases, and power-seeking;, they’re complicit in a litany of terrible things – is not an argument. Du Mez is attempting to tear down the edifice of Evangelical theology by casting elements of the sociological situation in which Evangelical theological claims and justifications were formed in the least charitable possible light. But, as Searle points out, whether or not our sociological situation inclines us toward one belief or another is not relevant to whether or not those beliefs are actually true.
The entire danger here is that we end up with a way of analyzing and understanding theology that is utterly unmoored from the truth. It doesn’t even matter whether Du Mez perceives herself to be operating in such a deconstructionist fashion: Her method sets aside the difficult work of determining truth and replaces it with the cheap substitute of speculating about people’s perceived interests and motives. Searle describes the danger of critique unmoored by the search for truth:
What are the results of deconstruction supposed to be? Characteristically the deconstructionist does not attempt to prove or refute, to establish or confirm, and he is certainly not seeking the truth. On the contrary, this whole family of concepts is part of the logocentrism he wants to overcome; rather he seeks to undermine, or call in question, or overcome, or breach, or disclose complicities.[3]
In this way Du Mez thinks that she can “see through” the theological claims of Evangelicals, and as such she can set them aside. In a passage in the concluding section of Jesus and John Wayne Du Mez makes this clear:
Despite evangelicals’ frequent claims that the Bible is the source of their social and political commitments, evangelicalism must be seen as a cultural and political movement rather than as a community defined chiefly by its theology. Evangelical views on any given issue are facets of this larger cultural identity, and no number of Bible verses will dislodge the greater truths at the heart of it.[4]
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