The central premise of “Former Fundie” blogger Benjamin Corey’s first book Undiluted: Rediscovering the Radical Message of Jesus is that the American church has profoundly corrupted the gospel and is in serious need of a wake-up call. Specifically, Corey has found that American Christians have lost track of what he believes to be the central and “undiluted” message of Jesus: “a straightforward invitation to follow him, and to learn to be like him.” In each chapter, Corey pushes his readers to greater awareness of how our culture has shaped our faith and encourages us to seek more purely and directly the gospel of Jesus rather than that of any denomination or inherited tradition. Interwoven with his guidance for other Christians is Corey’s own story: Having grown up in and adopted what he describes as a “hybrid…of conservative evangelicalism and legalistic fundamentalism,” he went off to Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and found his faith radically transformed into what we find in these pages to be of the more liberal, “emergent church” variety.
There are quite a few points Corey makes that struck me as noteworthy and powerful:
- If at any time it appears that the younger generation is not interested in Jesus, the reality is that the version of Jesus they have been presented is likely not authentic. A central premise of Christianity is that it has been placed in each of our hearts to long for God (Ecclesiastes 3:11)—Blaise Pascal’s God-shaped hole—so it is a mistake to ever believe Jesus’s call is outdated or no longer relevant. Those involved in outreach to youth especially should understand that while Christianity may no longer hold the position of esteem that it formerly did in our nation and culture, the appeal of Jesus has not in the least diminished.
- Our allegiance to a country, denomination, or political party should never supersede our allegiance to God’s Kingdom. Our citizenship in the borderless, eternal fellowship of men and women of faith is where our focus and commitments should be directed, and we should keep in constant mind our role of outreach in helping build this Kingdom, a role that—Corey especially emphasizes—involves loving others without judgment and serving them like Christ.
- The problem with fundamentalism arises if faith in fundamentals does not coincide with the ability to embrace what Corey refers to as the “tension” of faith. One of the most wonderful things about Christianity is that while Jesus’s message may be simple, it is also mysterious. There are not black and white answers to every theological question, nor need there be. In fact, accepting that much about Christianity will remain a mystery for the duration of our earthly lives can bring its own sort of freedom: “Once we let go and finally embrace that the Christian life was one intended to be lived in tension, we’ll find that we actually grow to trust and experience God in deeper and more relational ways. Instead of trusting on our answers, we’ll find that we’re forced to begin placing our trust in [Jesus]. Instead of relaxing in the certainty of our knowledge, we are forced to find peace simply in following him the best we are able.”
With these wonderful insights from Undiluted in mind though, I must confess that there were quite a few aspects of Corey’s work that troubled me or that—as I have only encountered exclusively positive reviews of this text to date—I feel should be noted to potential readers.
- As a rhetorician, I could not overlook the fact that Corey’s argument depends entirely on the creation of a straw man of an enemy known as the “American church.” The American church in his formulation consists of gluttonous, aging, megachurch-attending, Uncle-Sam-like Christians whose traits at various times include allegiance to the prosperity gospel, handgun ownership, anti-environmentalism, rejection of women in positions of church leadership, homophobia, and a dislike of immigrants. Such a portrayal is disingenuous and even dangerous for a variety of reasons:
(1) It is unlikely that any one reader will encompass all of these traits, allowing them to exempt themselves from any truths to be found in Corey’s message.[i]
(2) It creates a false portrait of the American Church. Having just recently reviewed J.R. Briggs’s Fail, I now know that—while certainly the type of Hollywood Christianity Corey critiques receives the most airtime and publicity—America is actually a nation of small churches (less than .05% of our churches are megachurches). In addition, it is not statistically accurate to say—as Corey does—that the American church’s message is so diluted that it is “causing people to walk away in droves.” While Corey does not cite a source to support this claim, it’s likely he’s referring to the rise of the “nones”—Americans who, when asked their religious affiliation, answer “none”—from 8% to 15% between 1990 and 2009, findings which a subsequent study by Pew Research indicated had increased another 5% between 2007 and 2012. And yet, any even-slightly-below-surface-level analysis of these statistics reveals that the vast majority of Americans still identify as Christian and that scholars taking a closer look at who these “nones” are—scholars including one of my favorites, Dr. Elizabeth Drescher—find that these individuals are often rejecting the terminology of Christianity rather than its principles necessarily. There is certainly much to critique about heretical or “diluted” versions of the gospel being preached from American pulpits. However, there is no need to default to sensationalism or exaggeration to make the point that Jesus’s true Gospel will always attract people more than any variation. Provocation will gain readers, but a careful attention to statistics, facts, and source citation is what will affirm and convince them. This is especially true of America’s youth, who—at least if my experience as a college professor holds any water—are incredibly intelligent and skeptical when it comes to overly broad generalizations and un-attributed “facts” (as well as being incredibly adept at fact-checking!).
- While I believe Corey intended for Undiluted to make his readers uncomfortable (as all penetrating theology ultimately does), I do not think he intended to make them feel alienated. And yet, I repeatedly felt throughout this book that Corey was the “cool kid” and that I wasn’t quite theologically hip enough to sit at his lunch table. Though I would certainly identify myself as an evangelical and though I certainly believe that there are aspects of Christianity which depend on faith in fundamentals, perhaps making me a “fundamentalist, it was not as a result of these beliefs that I felt excluded. It was the way Corey dropped little details about his “former fundie” life in such a way as to make readers of different lifestyle choices feel a little backwards: at one point, for example, he casually mentions that he is heavily tattooed and likes to drink Welsh beer (and that he believes “Jesus was actually the kind of bloke who would invite me to come over and have a few beers with him”); at another time, he suavely smokes an American cigarette; and at various additional occasions, he drops “f-bombs” and other curse words. To be clear, is not the actions so much that are off-putting (he undoubtedly knows that this behavior will be considered “provocative” to some readers and consciously chose to include it nevertheless) but the tone with which he notes them as seeming badges of honor, confirmation of his reoriented and undiluted faith. While any one of these behaviors might ultimately be innocuous in the big Kingdom-scheme of things, at other moments Corey’s condescension to those Christians of a different ilk than himself is more troubling: at one point, for example, he mocks Liberty University, a school which has produced some of the most mission-minded, counter-cultural, and Jesus-loving Christians I know; at another point, he criticizes those who “sponsor a child for $39 a month and write letters four times a year and call it good” and, even more harshly, takes a sarcastic tone towards those “good, evangelical household[s] with an adopted child in tow.”[ii] To write off an entire university, to devalue even the “small” act of sponsoring a child from a distance, and to speak of evangelical families who adopt as if that decision were just a feather to be added to their hats of faith seems really rather extreme.
- While Corey makes it clear that he does not want to be affiliated with any theological camp, I do believe it is important that his theology, for the sake of his readership, at least be clear. While I understand that many books have been written encouraging Christians to revolutionize their faith and to get back to the “true Jesus” and that each new book added to these ranks must have its own angle or niche to be marketable, I truly wanted greater clarification on at least this one theological point: in a chapter on “undiluted justice,” Corey very clearly states his belief that Jesus does not let into heaven people “who are not engaged in social justice for the poor and vulnerable.” A page later, he hedges this claim, stating that “While it’s not the doing that gets us in, the doing is what shows we have a heart that has been reconciled to God’s way of doing things.” It seems impossible to have it both ways. This is, of course, an age-old theological debate: If the criterion for eternal life is doing good deeds, then it cannot also be grace. If the criterion is grace, then while the “doing” of good may be a signifier, it seems that Corey’s initial statement cannot simultaneously be true. I would imagine this is not a point on which he intended to be clear. Nevertheless, I felt a bit more explication would undoubtedly have been useful for his readers.
To summarize these concerns as concisely as possible, the goal of Undiluted is certainly worthy: to encourage Christians to reexamine and refine their faith is never a waste of time. But such a goal can certainly be accomplished in a way that is rhetorically appropriate, humble in tone, and free of condescension.
Interestingly (and certainly unexpectedly), however, in the concluding pages of Undiluted, Corey poetically offers what—at least to my evangelical ears—sounds surprisingly similar to a Billy Graham altar call, writing passionately about a faith and a Jesus that rings resoundingly and beautifully of Truth. He writes:
“For those of us who are weary, burnt out, and ready to throw in the towel, Jesus offers us a different way of living that removes the burden, restores life, and leads to restoration and wholeness….
After all these years, Jesus is still offering us something different…
Something that is life-giving.
Something that results in freedom.
Something that is not burdensome.
Something that quenches our thirst.
Something that fills our hunger.
Something that opens our eyes.
Something that heals our wounds.
Something that gives meaning.
Something that restores our spirit.
Jesus offers us something that is…
Well,
Undiluted.”
So, noted issues of controversy aside, I’d like to conclude by saying that THIS is a message, THIS is portrait of Jesus that I cannot help but respond to with an eternally gratefuly and hopeful “Amen.”
[i] As an side note, while editorial errors are never of central relevance in a review, the oversight of the misspellings in “Row vs. Wade” and “Glen Beck” will undoubtedly result in some readers challenging Corey’s ethos as a former conservative or as a speaker who has invested himself well in knowing his audience.
[ii] Part of the experience of Corey’s own faith transformation that he shares with his readers is his own family’s decision to adopt two daughters, one of whom he describes as incredibly violent, even homicidal, and it is perhaps for this reason—his own challenging experience of adoption—that Corey appears to take lightly these “easier” experiences of adoption. However, this does not justify his sarcasm, a tone which runs so counter to the depiction of Jesus I believe Corey strives to represent.
Read a book excerpt from Undiluted at the Patheos Book Club here.
Amber M. Stamper holds a Ph.D. in English (Rhetoric and Composition) and is an Assistant Professor of Language, Literature, and Communication at Elizabeth City State University in North Carolina. Her research and publications center on religious rhetoric and communication, especially issues of Christian evangelism and the digital church.