It has been a long time since the story of someone's ministry -- much less that of an evangelical pastor -- has resonated as deeply with me as Christianity Today's recent "How Tim Keller Found Manhattan" did (read it before you read this post!). Perhaps it was the love of Tolkien he and his wife share, or her conversion through the writings of C.S. Lewis, but more likely it was the sense of truly incarnational ministry grounded in understanding and loving the city that caught me. There's a lot of substance in this article, but I'm going to break out just a few portions to share and reflect over.
When Tim Keller came to Manhattan in 1989, New York City had a well-deserved reputation as a snarling, scary place. Violent crime, drug dealing, and other urban pathologies had weakened or chased off many of the faithful. While a barely perceptible renewal was under way, it seemed as if the few remaining orthodox Protestants were huddled together in historic buildings.
This opening paragraph struck me as both accurate, in one sense, and also humorous. Accurate because those who would be considered "orthodox" by a PCA pastor or an evangelical reporter were and are indeed quite rare in Manhattan. Funny in that the image of what they might consider "orthodox" and the contrasting image of other churches full of "heretical" both amuse me.
Redeemer's worship is seemly and traditional. Instead of using video monitors, casually dressed worshipers follow a 20-page bulletin that includes hymns, prayers, and Bible texts. Organ and a brass quartet lead the music. For evening services, jazz musicians play contemporary Christian songs.
When I was in my teens I recorded and watched episodes of "The Coral Ridge Hour" with the late Dr. D. James Kennedy. This mostly consisted of a hymn or two and a very traditional sermon from a Reformed Protestant perspective. That church, like Rev. Keller's, is associated with the Presbyterian Church in America. This is a traditional, conservative evangelical denomination in the Presbyterian tradition. Dr. Kennedy's sermons were delivered and recorded in a very staid, traditional setting. No contemporary praise band and the sermon was not flashy. Yet, it appealed to me. While I would now disagree strongly with several of Dr. Kennedy's views on theology and politics, he was definitely a well-read and articulate man. The same seems to be the case with Rev. Keller, as the article goes on to describe his preaching style:
Keller speaks like a college professor, absorbed in his content, of which there is a lot.
Rev. Keller isn't just an educated man who showed up in New York to try to straighten out a bunch of sinners with his imported knowledge. He listened as well.
Keller began talking to anyone who would sit still, asking questions he had learned from the urbanists at Westminster: "What would be a New Yorker's worst disaster?" and "What kind of church would a New Yorker want to attend?" For months he sat in restaurants, learning New Yorkers' ways.
A year or so ago there was a big U.N. meeting in New York. A lot of people came into the city. There were protesters and counter-protesters, along with the usual tourists. An NPR reported found a group in Times Square that had come in from another state (Maine, I think) "to preach the Gospel." The reporter seemed to think they were in town because of the U.N. meeting, though it seemed obvious to me they had no idea it was going on and wouldn't have cared anyway. In any case, one of the men who was handing out tracts spoke loudly and breathlessly into the Mic that he was glad to be in the "great big city of New York to share the love of Jesus." I really can't imagine how this evangelistic method, consisting of doing a one-day tracting sortie into Manhattan would ever do any good. Fortunately, as we saw above, Keller knew the discipline of listening.
Though the borough's 1.6 million people were used to religious diversity, many had never talked to an evangelical.
Well, they probably had spoken to an evangelical, but not about religion. I have my doubts that the city was ever as bereft of believers as this article seems to claim, but then a lot probably depends on your idea of what constitutes an "evangelical."
New York is a city of high achievers to whom, Keller says, it made sense that a minister should be a scholar of ancient texts, exposing them to ideas and information beyond their experience.
I loved this sentence, particularly "a minister should be a scholar of ancient texts." That is so true for this city. Not only that, but such a minister should be able to translate that scholarship into meaningful contemporary application. If it is ancient wisdom that is shown to be meaningful today and it is presented intelligently, it will find an audience in New York.
"Suppose," Keller says, "you are the best violist in Tupelo, Mississippi. You go to Manhattan, and when you get out of the subway, you hear a beggar playing, and he's better than you are." New York attracts the best and the most ambitious. The sheer density of competition, along with the diversity of points of view, makes for a "culture-forming engine," says Keller. It also exposes the weaknesses of those caught in it.
Such is the challenge of New York. They say that if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere. In a city of this size there is always someone better than you. Being top dog in any field is virtually impossible, and many of those who make it that far (to the very top) often can't stay there long.
Sherman relates Keller's vision to the apostle Paul. "Paul had this sense of, I really should go talk to Caesar. He's not above caring for Onesimus the slave, but somebody should go to talk to Caesar. When you go to New York, that's what you're doing. Somebody should talk to the editorial committee of The New York Times; somebody should talk to Barnard, to Columbia. Somebody should talk to Wall Street."
New York is a cultural and financial center. Even with the shift away from the city by many major companies after 9/11, the city remains a magnet for talent and money. Where there is such power, someone should be speaking to it.
Keller's reading of Scripture fueled his enthusiasm. Conn had taught him a positive biblical view of cities. As he studied New York, he began to draw out that understanding. Surely God's command to exiled Israelites applied to Christians in New York: "seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you" (Jer. 29:7). Long before that, God had designated cities as places of refuge when Israel entered the Promised Land. They remain so today, Keller noted—which explains why poor people, immigrants, and vulnerable minorities such as homosexuals cluster in cities. They attract people who are open to change. Paul did most of his missionary work in cities, and early Christianity flourished within them. Revelation portrays the final descent of the kingdom of God to earth as a city, although a garden city, with fruit trees and a life-giving river at its center. Keller suggests that, had Adam and Eve lived sinlessly and obeyed God's directions, they would have made Eden into just such a city.
When I moved from rural Missouri to urban Brazil, one thing I noticed fairly quickly was the high number of people with visible difficulties. Developmentally disabled and physical handicapped folk seemed to abound. Over time I learned that those not born in the city had sought it out as a place to receive medical treatment and support, as well as a welcome that didn't make a scene out of their challenges. Such is New York for many people, and city people are generally more open to change, as the article points out.
I think it's odd that in the United States Christianity is considered by many to be more of a rural phenomenon these days than urban, while in the first centuries of the church Christianity spread most rapidly in the cities. The native conservatism of rural areas doesn't tend to encourage a change in faith, or much else for that matter.
There is a perceptible tension in the Book of Genesis between the city and the countryside, with a tilt away from the cities as places of godless rebellion against the natural order and its Creator. Elsewhere in Scripture this tension is clarified and then resolved in the image of a New Jerusalem coming down with the union of heaven and earth. Revelation describes that city as receiving the wealth and power of nations and as having a river lined by trees flowing through it. God doesn't hate the cities of the world, but He does want to transform them and, ultimately, supersede them with one of His own.
"Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations" (Revelation 22:1-2 NRSV).
See:
How Tim Keller Found Manhattan (Christianity Today)
Grim Foundations (Igneous Quill)
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