Cultureless Counter-Culture?

A long time ago by college standards, perhaps as much as a month and a half, one of my friends recommended to me a book called Angels in the Architecture. I respect his judgment, so I got the book and began to read it. It is about modern culture, or rather, it is a call to turn sharply away from modern culture and toward a sort of "Medieval Protestantism." For a good summary of the book I direct you to his blog post, under the title of "A Protestant Vision for Middle Earth."

I am about to go home for Thanksgiving Break, and chances are excellent that you will be hearing more of Angels as I read and think about it during the weekend. This morning, however, the book was freshly brought to my mind. Dr. Stacey spoke to us in Chapel on the subject of our Christian culture. Quoting a professor who visited PHC a few weeks ago, he pointed out that Evangelicalism might be called a "counter-culture without a culture."

The idea is, of course, that Evangelicals wish to present to modern America an alternative to their secular culture. The problem is that this "counter-culture" has no positive definition, no characteristics unique to itself. It is, they say, a bad rip-off of modern culture, one whose attempt at purity leaves a cloying aftertaste... it is a counter-culture with no distinctive culture of its own.

"Does Angels," I asked myself, "have the answer to this problem? Would a return to Medieval Protestantism be radical enough to give Evangelicals a real culture?" My answer was a tentative "yes," but then Dr. Stacey asked another question.

"Last I checked," he began, "our mission statement around here is to 'lead the nation and shape the culture.' What I want to know is, where are we going to lead the nation, and what are we going to shape the culture into?"

As soon as he asked the question, I knew what my answer would be, but I was rather shocked at myself for thinking it. I know what I want "the culture" to look like. I want it to look like my home. And that shocked me. I thought, "no, no... surely that is too arrogant, surely too self-centered, surely we can't have it so right in my particular family that everybody else ought to take us for a model!"

I am hardly about to assert that every family should look just like mine. But I do know that I am satisfied with my family, and that intrigues me. Satisfaction, you know, is such a rare thing nowadays. Can it be that people who know each other best also are able love each other best? I told someone the other day that my two dearest friends are in Japan this week, and that I miss them. That's true, my parents are in Japan. My parents... are my best friends? Culture shock!

Do you believe that they are my best friends? Would you believe me if I took you home to see them, if you saw Mama leaning on the counter, laughing with my little brother? If you could hear Daddy read aloud to us while we do the dishes, would you believe me? Do you need to see us playing with one another, teaching one another, correcting one another? Must I show you my teenage sister quietly and cheerfully accepting a loving rebuke from Mama or Daddy, and going away to profit from it? Does your credulity require the sight of my elder brother visiting his parents' house regularly, voluntarily, and taking his sisters out for special treats or trips, just because he wants to spend time with them? It is indeed a very different culture.

But that's just the point, isn't it? Culture shock. Nor is my family so very different; I could name you a score, twoscore. A happy family... is that an oxymoron? It's certainly a distinctive characteristic! I pondered, "what is it that gives foundation to all these happy families? What is the basis of this culture that I would like to bring about?"

I'll tell you... in a day or two. I want you to wonder about it a little first.