From J. Mack Stiles in Marks of the Messenger: Knowing, Living and Speaking the Gospel
Losing the gospel doesn’t happen all at once, it’s much more like a four generation process….
The gospel is accepted →
The gospel is assumed →
The gospel is confused→
The gospel is lost
For any generation to lose the gospel is tragic. But, as Philip Jensen says, the generation that assumes the gospel is the generation that is most responsible for the loss of the gospel.
It this is right, then we don’t want to be the ones who assume the gospel, do we?
I’ve heard D. A. Carson speak of ways that the gospel can be assumed. First, the gospel might be assumed by Christians who let other issues overshadow the gospel.
[M]any Christians assume the gospel (often, regrettably, some form of the ‘simple gospel’) but are passionate about something on the relative periphery: abortion, poverty, forms of worship, cultural decay, ecology, overpopulation, pornography, family breakdown, and much more. By labelling these complex subjects ‘relatively peripheral’ I open myself to attack from as many quarters as there are subjects on the list. For example, some of those whose every thought is shaded green will not be convinced that the ecological problems we face are peripheral to human survival. But I remain quite unrepentant. From a biblical-theological perspective, these challenges, as serious as they are, are reflections of the still deeper problem—our odious alienation from God. If we tackle these problems without tackling what is central, we are merely playing around with symptoms. (Source: The Biblical Gospel)
Understanding the gospel as what “tip[s] people into the kingdom,” but not what transforms them may also lead to an assumed gospel. If we think that
all the business of transformation turns on postgospel disciplines and strategies, then we shall constantly be directing the attention of people away from the gospel, away from the cross and resurrection. Soon the gospel will be something that we quietly assume is necessary for salvation, but not what we are excited about, not what we are preaching, not the power of God. What is really important are the spiritual disciplines. Of course, when we point this out to someone for whom techniques and disciplines are of paramount importance, there is likely to be instant indignation. Of course I believe in the cross and resurrection of Jesus, they say. And doubtless they do. Yet the question remains: What are they excited about? Where do they rest their confidence? On what does their hope of transformation depend? When I read, say, Julian of Norwich, I find an example of just how far an alleged spirituality may be pursued, in medieval form, directly attempting to connect with God apart from self-conscious dependence on the substitutionary death and resurrection of Jesus—the very matters the apostle labels “of first importance.” Wherever contemporary pursuit of spirituality becomes similarly distanced from the gospel, it is taking a dangerous turn. (Source: What Is the Gospel?—Revisited)
Looking back, I’ll admit that as a young adult, I assumed the gospel in this second way. If you’d asked me about the content of the gospel, I would have been able to give you a pretty good surface level answer. But I saw the gospel as Christianity 101, the first course in the program. It was the thing that planted the seed, so to speak, but growth came by something more and something deeper—not by something that was really more and deeper, but by something that seemed to be more and deeper given my surface level understanding of the gospel. At the core, it was salvation by faith (or by the gospel) and sanctification by self-discipline (or works, works, works).
Of course, the solution to assuming the gospel is returning to our first love,
to the basics, the comprehensive basics, and quietly affirm with Paul, ‘I am not ashamed of the gospel [p. 85] because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes: first for the Jew, then for the Gentile. For in the gospel a righteousness from God is revealed, a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: “The righteous will live by faith”’ (Romans 1:16–17). (Source)
When we address the peripheral (but not unimportant) issues in the first Carson quote
we must do so from the centre, out of a profound passion for the gospel. This is for us both a creedal necessity and a strategic choice. It is a creedal necessity because this gospel alone prepares men and women for eternity, for meeting our Maker—and all problems are relativized in the contemplation of the cross, the final judgement, and eternity. It is a strategic choice because we are persuaded that the gospel, comprehensively preached in the power of the Spirit, will do more to transform men and women, not least their attitudes, than anything else in the world. (Source)
What about the believer’s transformation? That’s in the above quote, too. It’s the gospel that is God’s power to change us.
And how would we know if, in our circle of believers1, the gospel is assumed? To answer this question, I have another quote from J. Mack Stiles:
Not to sound too simple, but the clearest indication of an assumed gospel is that you don’t hear it anymore.
1 Primarily, of course, our circle of believers is our church, but it might also be, I’d think, a Bible study group, or a group of believing friends.