HOW RADICAL IS 'RADICAL'?

The discussion between David Platt and Kevin De Young, arising from Platt's book, Radical; Taking Back Your Faith From The American Dream, makes thought-provoking reading. Together with the many responses to the blog, it also shows how widely evangelical Christians differ on what "radical" really means.

"You can be radical in your own home", I read. If your definition of 'radical' is little more than the opposite of nominal, then fine - you can. But surely, committed or zealous ought to do here. By the way, isn't it sad that the old word "staunch" died the death? It had done a good job for centuries!

There is a generally accepted thumbnail definition of 'radical' used by political historians. Might it help us here? For them, it must:
a) refer to a movement, not an individual
b) be organised, not spontaneous, and
c) have as its aim a change to the current system of power.

If we are ready to accept these criteria in a Christian context, it immediately blows out the 'radical at home' idea, for you can't be a movement on your own! But questions still remain, not least regarding the categorisation of particular movements in history. The political-historical criteria by their very nature apply to movements "in the world", actively agitating for good, and not movements which sought to express their protest against the system by going "out of the world" and setting up an alternative society. Chief among these, of course, would be the Desert Fathers and the early monastic tradition.

There is, however, one movement which historians have actually called the Radical Reformation. This was the grassroots reaction in the 16th century against the system and trappings of both the Roman Catholic and mainstream Protestant (Lutheran) churches. A movement sprang up, not by any means in full unity, but committed to breaking free from State-Church structures, externally imposed bishops, and the notion of salvation lying within an ecclesiastical system. They called for a return to New Testament principles of church structure and governance, a congregation's right to appoint its own elders, baptise believers, administer the sacraments and refuse to take up arms and fight wars.

Platt uses the phrase gospel-driven, grace-saturated, God-glorifying obedience, not particularly intending it as a definition, but as a description of the radical heart of Christianity. It seems to me that the Radical Reformation meets these requirements and fits the historians' definition of a radical movement. In my next posts, therefore, I'll try to give specific examples from their story and their writings that unpack this a little more.

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH

The Moravian Church was the subject of some earlier posts. One episode from their history speaks eloquently of radical faithfulness.

In 1737, the Moravian Church sent a team to start a mission and community settlement in South Africa. They chose some land east of Cape Town and called it Genadendal (Grace Valley). The local tribe, the Khoi, were impoverished and dispersed but the Moravians reached out to them and began a school for their children. One of the first Khoi to be baptised was a woman called Tikhuie, whom the missionaries named Magdalena. Her husband, a skilled hunter, kept the community supplied with meat.

Some of the missionaries died of disease, however, and the leader grew lonely and in 1744 was recalled to Germany. Everyone thought the community was finished. They reckonend without 'Lena’ Tikhuie! Having learned to read at the mission school, she gathered the people daily under a tree and taught them the scriptures.

Years passed. Travellers returning to Europe brought tales of an African woman leading a church at Grace Valley. Finally, in 1792, nearly fifty years after the withdrawal, the Moravians sent a fresh team to re-found Genadendal. On their arrival they found the ruins of the original houses, but to their astonishment there was Lena Tikhuie, frail and almost blind, still holding the ground and ministering to the little congregation, daily, under the tree. Her well-worn bible was still with her, wrapped in sheepskin.

The missionaries were told 'Every evening we all, men, women and children, would go to old Lena. She would fall on her knees and pray. When her eyes would let her, she read from the New Testament.' As families grew, parents taught their children to pray. When Lena couldn't read, a younger woman did it for her.

Lena became a living legend in the area. People came to see her. One, the wife of a high official in the British government, wrote: 'It was like creeping back seventeen hundred years to hear from the coarse but inspired lips of evangelists the simple, sacred words of wisdom and purity.'

Lena never knew when she was born, but she lived a long life, always thanking God for His great grace. When she died in 1800, her faithful perseverance had become legendary throughout South Africa. She was one of the first indigenous church leaders in South Africa, certainly the first woman, and she had led the congregation at Genadendal for fifty years.