The Prodigal Prophet

Jonah’s Nationalist Gospel versus YHWH’s Universal Gospel, and Keller’s Intellectual Complacency and Other Points of Critique—Tim Keller’s Prodigal Prophet

Since 2008, Tim Keller has published at least two to three books almost every year. For an ordinary author, publishing a book a year is not an easy task, so Keller has been literally ‘pouring out’ books. This is probably because Keller started his ministry in the mid-1970s, which would have helped him accumulate a lot of theological resources of his own, up until 2008 for more than thirty years. But things are beginning to slow down for him. He now publishes by average a book every year. Since the publication of his meditations on the book of Proverbs in November 2017, the present book on Jonah has come out in October 2018, making it almost accurately one year from the time of the last book’s publication. This has led me to guess that Keller has almost exhausted his theological notes and resources that have been in the making for the last thirty years. (I want to make sure this is just a guess of mine, after all.) Of course, he IS a prolific author, publishing a gigantic set of 25 books so far.

Since his retirement from Redeemer Presbyterian Church last year, Keller is now concentrating on teaching ministry at a local seminary and on growing Redeemer’s church-planting agency, Redeemer City to City. I wish to see him being able to share more constructive theological work in the future. To my disappointment, the book on Jonah was redundant in some ways, copying and pasting his past lectures and books, at least in some places. This seems perhaps understandable, given that he already devoted a chapter to the book of Jonah in Counterfeit gods, and the current book must be a more in-depth exploration on the central themes of Jonah, which it is. At any rate, The Prodigal Prophet is a classic Keller, summarizing all of what he has been saying up to this point, from the grace of God to identity formation to social justice and serving neighbors.  At the center of this book is the question ‘who is God, and what kind of relationship does God like to have with us humans?’  Personally speaking, I believe that Christian faith is all about responding to this question through our knowing and living, let alone our relating to one another, to which Keller is responding comprehensively. In brief, this book is a bit of everything Keller has been saying, which might serve as a great introductory resource to Keller’s thought.

To move straight to the point, this book argues cogently that misunderstanding God directly bears on misunderstanding ourselves, which in turn means for Jonah that the more he understands God correctly, the more he was able to give up on his self-righteousness and stay away from his former sense of self-identity, let alone selflessly giving himself for others.  This is all Keller is saying in this book.

The primary implication of this statement is that if we want to see our faith growing, we should be able to grow in our self-understanding, which only takes place when we understand who God is to us. The only evidence for us to discern whether we grow in these two understandings is that we open up ourselves in love and service toward others more than we did before. Thus, we should not be deceived. The measure of spiritual growth is not in knowledge accumulation or in deeper understanding of things, not even in serving our neighbors more, but in growing in the capacity to love others. (You might as well be reminded of Jean Calvin at this point, who says exactly the same thing in the beginning of his Institutes).

Let’s begin with understanding ourselves. Keller brings up Peter’s amazing devotion to Jesus the night before Jesus’ trial, as well as Peter’s disappointing betrayal of Jesus. While Peter was so sure of himself not denying Jesus, he in fact did deny Jesus in front of other three times. What does this mean for us? Keller teaches that this means that we do not know who we are deep down unless we face a crisis of our own, like Peter’s, making known to ourselves who we truly are and what we are really committed to. The reason that Peter did not know who he was deep inside was that he has built his identity not on the grace of God, but on his religious achievements.  A sharp point to make. An intriguing thing is that Jonah’s identity overlaps with Peter’s in this regard. While Jonah’s prayer might make the readers think that Jonah has finally grasped who God truly is, which Jonah himself might have thought of himself also, the dramatic disclosure comes when Jonah became outraged at the people of Nineveh repenting of their former ways. This tells that Jonah’s identity of himself and his understanding of who God is are both based on his nationalistic ideal of God working only for the nation of Israel, excluding all the non-Israelites.  For Jonah, this should be more the case when it comes to the Assyrians, Israel’s archenemy.  Thus, Jonah was not building his identity on the universal grace of God, but on the exclusive, peripheral, racist ideal of God, showing that who we truly are exactly corresponds to who God truly is for us.

When Jonah and Peter’s hearts are disclosed to themselves, we get to learn two lessons.  First, the human heart operates on much deeper levels than human cognition can grasp, and we know who we truly are only when we face a crisis which makes ourselves vulnerable to what we have attached ourselves to. Second, God’s grace changes us deep inside only when we grow in our self-identity as based on God’s grace, which does not come easy, nor can be discerned through fervent religious devotion and commitment.

Now, who is God for us? In Jonah’s narrative, as in other biblical narratives, God is above all a God of grace, giving love selflessly, teaching all who come in to relationship with God what love is. This means that God is, in an age where love is a transaction for self-fulfillment (150), where church is immersed in loving itself rather than neighbors (35), and where God’s people have still not figured out how to relate to a God of grace, taking advantage of what they consider their merits and taking pride in them in their relationship to God and neighbors. Above all, God Is love (1 Jn 4:16). I would rather say that since God is love, those who grow in relationships with God will grow in love.

Thus, those who grow in this love will take caution in avoiding all kinds of exclusivistic idols, including nationalism, racism, meritocracy, academic aristocracy, materialism, consumerism, etc. All these idols are human-made constructs serving the purpose of puffing up a specific person or people group’s sense of identity, while looking down upon others and relegating them to second-citizen status.  This has been a thematic summary of the book.

Now I would like to mention some disappointing things about the book. First, the book is redundant of Keller’s previous lectures and books. Especially in chapters 10 and 11, on the topic of Christian identity as not exclusive, Keller makes use of his previous arguments made in Making Sense of God and Reason for God. He could have approached the topic with different perspectives with more research, and I wish he did. Second, Keller’s soteriology and atonement has a chasm between each other. While Keller subscribes to the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement, which has been historically considered to deal only with the human guilt, and not shame, Keller’s soteriology is full of rich details about how Christ saves us from our shame by means of reorienting our identity in the person and work of Christ (in grace). Psychologists and social scientists have affirmed that shame harms our identities, while guilt adversely affects our external behavior.  While Keller does deal with the problem of shame as he envisions the Christian person free from the nagging identity problem, Keller falls short of providing further explanation as to why the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement cannot or would not deal with the problem of shame. Third, I would take seriously Hannah Anderson’s critique of Keller in her review of the book put up last week in the Gospel Coalition website. Anderson points out that while Keller does a great job of advocating the sacrificial love expressed in penal substitution, he does not go deeper into the abuse dynamic, leaving it up to the knowledge of the reader. A fuller quote of Anderson’s review is worthwhile here.

Despite my profound appreciation for Keller and The Prodigal Prophet, I do have one point of concern. In discussing how God’s self-sacrificial love calls us to self-sacrificial love, Keller attempts to answer the objection that this teaching might enable abusive or exploitative relationships. He argues that this misunderstands the nature of self-giving love, countering that

[A]llowing someone to exploit you or sin against you is not loving them at all. . . . Some people do indeed allow themselves to be browbeaten and used, for many psychologically toxic reasons under the guise of being “self-giving.” In reality it is selfish, a way to feel superior or needed. To say that self-giving love must lead to abuse and oppression is to misunderstand it entirely. (149–50)

Keller is correct that we often misunderstand the nature of self-giving love and fail to see how it calls those we love to repentance. But just as often we misunderstand the nature and dynamics of abuse, including how abusers lure and trap their victims. And this is where Keller’s greatest strength—his ability to leave space for the reader’s own thought process—becomes a weakness when handling sensitive contemporary questions like abuse.

By relying on readers to “fill in the gaps,” Keller’s explanation is only as good as the individual reader’s knowledge of abuse dynamics. And given our general ignorance, readers are unlikely to distinguish between abusive relationships and codependent ones. It’s entirely possible they’ll read this paragraph as suggesting that those who suffer abuse somehow enable it out of a desire to “feel superior or needed.”

But Keller would never argue that those suffering under systemic racism or an unjust marketplace are at fault for “allowing” their oppressors to exploit or sin against them. Instead, he consistently argues that we must pursue justice, fight oppression, and free those captive to it. Within this book itself, Keller challenges those who attempt to transcend conversations about injustice and “simply preach the gospel.” Those who sit on the sidelines, he says, end up enabling injustice.

(Hannah Anderson, from the review of Tim Keller’s The Prodigal Prophet)

I am in agreement with Anderson’s point about Keller’s argument. What do you think?

Overall, this book is just as insightful into God and humanity as other books by Keller, and I hope that you are disposed to reading Keller’s book. If you feel that way, my mission is accomplished. Thank you so much.

LIKEELLUL

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