by George Barna

See this item in the bookstore...

review by Don Murray

GEORGE BARNA'S BOOK Revolution basically calls for a return to the early church practice of the Christian faith. Barna's fundamental premise is that a new breed of Christians—revolutionaries, as he calls them—is emerging in the twenty-first century. However, the apparent revolution seems to be as much about these revolutionaries leaving the institutional church as anything else. Barna believes that by 2025, half of American Christians currently finding the local church as the “primary means of spiritual experience and expression” will turn to parachurch ministries.

The cover for the book asks the question, “Worn-out on church?” and suggests that the revolution means “finding vibrant faith beyond the walls of the sanctuary.” While this initially grated against my loyalty to the local church, I quickly remembered that George Fox was forced to look beyond the sanctuary walls of his day to find vibrant faith. Still I wonder if these revolutionaries are being forced out like Fox or if they are merely opting out like so many other Americans.

The reason for the revolution, according to Barna's research, is simply that the modern American church bears little if any resemblance to the New Testament church. Likewise, few American Christians resemble early church disciples. Revolutionaries have no time for artificial or phony churches. They refuse to follow leaders who are more concerned with their own legacies than with Christ's mission. They are not going to invest their money in man-made monuments rather than kingdom-expanding enterprises. They are unimpressed with degrees or seminaries that produce “lifeless hypocrites.”

Revolutionaries seek a faith experience that is full of life, robust, and awe-inspiring. They desire a spiritual journey that places a priority on exercising transformational power every moment of every day. Barna claims that revolutionaries embrace the kind of extreme faith found in the lives of the early apostles and their disciples.

Unfortunately, the opening chapter gives a radically different impression—that a revolutionary is one who wants either situational religion or self-gratifying amusement, anything but boredom. Barna starts with the story of David and Michael, two men who forego Sunday services at their local church—something Barna calls “disengagement”—in order to spend time playing golf. Their excuses for leaving the local church are boredom and a perceived inability or unwillingness of the institutional church to offer them ways to serve that make use of their “considerable skills and knowledge.”

Michael apparently abandoned the church completely, while David developed his own “regime” of spiritual exercises in order to remain “vibrantly spiritual.” Both men consider themselves spiritually deep men, but rarely attend church except for occasional special events with their families. They appear to justify their Sabbath “golf-worship” with the fact that they often discuss religious issues on the course.

Barna identifies Michael as a “back-sliding” Christian, and David as a revolutionary Christian because “his life reflects the very ideals and principles that characterized the life and purpose of Jesus Christ.” However, their view on the importance of golf over worship at God's house seems more like rebellious than revolutionary Christianity.

To be a Christian means to follow the teachings and lifestyle of Jesus Christ. Luke 4:16 reminds us that, “on the Sabbath day [Jesus] went into the synagogue, as was his custom.” How can those who fail to follow one of Jesus' most obvious habits consider themselves good Christ followers?

In the chapter “What Critics Will Say,” Barna addresses this church absence aspect of the revolution. He takes the reader back to the New Testament understanding of church as the “called out” ones from society. He reminds us that Hebrews 10:25 requires an interactive time of worship among believers but does not specify a day, time, or location. He also reminds us that the “mindless observance of meaningless routines” is not what the writer of Hebrews had in mind. He also claims “Jesus dismissed the organized worship of his day as ‘a farce.'”

While both of these points are true, Barna ignores the fact that Jesus did not abandon the Lord's house on the Sabbath day because of boredom or the failure of the synagogue to make use of his skills and knowledge.

When Barna defines revolutionaries as “individuals who are determined to glorify God every day through every thought, word and deed in their lives,” I find it very difficult to equate that desire with skipping church to play golf or disengaging from the body of Christ (Ephesians 4:1-4). Barna further characterizes them as having “complete dedication” and viewing life through a “spiritual lens,” basing every decision in life on “biblical principles.” Yet they turn away from faithfulness to the body of Christ because they think it is boring or that it fails to utilize them in ways that measure up to their skills—all of which sounds to me more self-centered, trite, and un-Christlike than spiritually mature. Their devotion to self over others is more reflective of the “Me Generation” and the pagan mindset of many Americans today than it is of spiritual revolutionaries. Barna admits that one of the primary reasons for the shift is that “Americans want control over their lives,” and many want a church specifically designed for them. Apparently denying self and bearing crosses is out.

To his credit, Barna identifies Jesus as the ultimate revolutionary. He offers a good list of “priorities that reflect our absolute sellout to the kingdom of God.” Among these are obedience to God, love, integrity, holy living, biblical literacy, and more. Barna also discusses Jesus' character and demeanor for revolutionaries to emulate: mercy, diligence, courage, repentance, humility, servant-mindedness, etc. Jesus lived differently; he was governed by a more excellent set of priorities and standards. True revolutionaries follow his lead.

Barna seems to redeem himself in the final chapters by sharing how American Christians can become revolutionaries, how the revolution shapes the revolutionary, and the marks of a revolutionary. The true mark is indeed fruit production (John 15:8). Barna adds a few others like constant prayer, surrender and availability to the Spirit, character, and more. “The ultimate desire…is to influence the world for Christ.”

Barna writes, “The new Revolution differs [from the Great Awakenings of U.S. history] in that its primary impetus is not salvation among the unrepentant but the personal renewal and recommitment of believers.” It is interesting that the focus appears to remain on self and what self wants. Still, if Barna is correct that the primary catalyst for the revolution is “people's desperation for a genuine relationship with God,” then Evangelical Friends churches are in a prime position to ride this latest wave of church renewal. Our focus from the beginning has been on the genuine relationship with God that Jesus offers us through the cross. Friends' focus in worship has never been on meaningless mechanics but on the true intersection of the heart of a person with the heart of God through the Spirit. Friends today still call people to an authentic faith in Christ lived out daily in obedience to God and his Word. For Friends this is not a revolution, but the reality of daily Christian faith.

I found Revolution to be somewhat schizophrenic. While Barna's assessment of state of the local church and his descriptions of Jesus' revolutionary characteristics and behavior are right on, his illustrations of revolutionaries seem to contradict the very points he tries to make. He describes the revolution as “a grassroots explosion of commitment to God” but often depicts the focus of revolutionaries as self-seeking or at least self-interested rather than self-sacrificial for the sake of Christ or his church.

Barna is right that “revolutionaries have the duty to raise their family to be the Church of God,” but how does that equate with the revolutionaries he describes in his first chapter—men who abandon the church and their families who are attending church, in order to go play golf on the Lord's Day? He is right that a revolution transforms believers so that they can transform the world. However, if he is correct that this transformation will result in a reduction of the number of churches in America, a reduction in attendance at church services, and a drop in donations to churches as believers “invest their money [shouldn't it be viewed as God's money?] in other ministry ventures,” then one must question if this is a revolution or a degeneration. Parts of this revolution sound much like self-driven devaluations of commitment to Christ and his church.

I am one of those “critics” Barna discusses in his next to last chapter. I clearly remember the words my wise father shared with me as my graduation from Malone College drew near. He asked me what I planned to do next. I said I was going to start my own church—one without all the politics, pettiness, and problems I had seen growing up in the church. Dad said he had no doubt I could start a new church but that within five years it would have all the warts, pimples, and troubles of any other local church because the church is full of people and people come with warts, pimples, and troubles. However, he pointed out that in over 2,000 years Christ had neither given up on his church nor people. Rather, Christ continues to love people and utilize them to whatever degree they allow him to partner with him in the building of his church.

Dad suggested that another direction would be to go into some churches that had forgotten what church was supposed to be about and help them get back on track. For 17 years God opened doors of ministry for us to do just that. Then ten years ago, to a much wiser, humbler servant, God opened the door to start a new church. And you know what? Dad was right. Within five years we had all the politics, pettiness, and problems of the other churches I had served, despite my best efforts. Still Christ did not give up on us, and he is still building his church through us and our feeble, often errant efforts. I hope Mr. Barna is wrong. I hope that instead of a revolution, America sees another revival—a revival of self-sacrificial, all-out commitment to Christ and to his mission and his church.

Have you read this book? Add your comments below.