“Full-Fat Faith” vs. “the Diet Versions”

His op-ed piece is about the revival of church-going in the UK, especially among the British young.  “There are genuine signs that secularization might have peaked,” he writes, “and that whereas older generations were bored by their parents’ Christianity, younger people might be rediscovering it as something fresh and exciting.”

In the course of his discussion, he quotes Anglican vicar and sociologist David Goodhew:

The most successful Christian communities in Britain—Pentecostalism, Eastern Orthodoxy, High Church Anglicanism and “the more traditional strands” of Catholicism—are those that make the boldest doctrinal claims, or what he calls “full-fat faith.” The diet version doesn’t have the same appeal.

You can buy low-fat milk, ice cream, salad dressing, and other products.  Or you can buy the full-fat version, which usually tastes better, though some people avoid it for their health.  The term “full-fat” is not used in marketing as much as “low-fat,” but according to Wiktionary, it has acquired an additional metaphorical meaning:  “Having all of the features or traits; not cut down or simplified.”

Goodhew applies this to religion.  Low-fat or “diet versions” of Christianity, with all of the heavy, controversial content removed, is not so popular today.  But the “full-fat” versions of Christianity, with their in-your-face supernaturalism and the “boldest doctrinal claims,” somehow taste better to searching secularists and are bringing more of them to church.

First of all, why do you think this is?  One might think that removing elements that go against the grain of the prevailing secularism would make a religion more attractive to secularists.  That, after all, is the professed tactic of liberal theology.  And yet, it doesn’t seem to.  Why doesn’t that work?  Why are versions with all of the supposed “obstacles” more compelling?

Second, how does Confessional Lutheranism fit into this scheme?  There aren’t that many in the UK–though there are some, as at Westfield House in Cambridge–so we can’t expect that option to register much in the British studies.  What about in the U.S.?

Surely Lutheranism in its full-blown liturgical, sacramental, Biblical, doctrinal, and evangelical manifestation would be “full-fat faith.”  There are, indeed, low-fat versions–also, reduced-fat and no-fat versions–but full-fat Lutheranism is very real.  It is certainly among the Christian traditions that “make the boldest theological claims.”

Pentecostals promise a direct, tangible experience with the Holy Spirit, and so do Lutherans, not in speaking in tongues, but in the waters of Baptism, the bread and wine of Holy Communion, and hearing and reading God’s Word.  The Catholics and the Orthodox believe that the body and blood of Christ are present in the elements of Holy Communion, and so do Lutherans.  High Church Anglicans may, though they generally draw back from “the boldest theological claims.”

Are “full-fat” Lutherans getting their share of converts?  Yes, indeed, according to Lyman Stone’s Lutheran Religious Life Survey that we blogged about in March of this year (see this and this).  And those of us in confessional congregations usually know of quite a few fellow members who have swum the Elbe River–or perhaps the Mississippi–from evangelical, Catholic, and unchurched backgrounds.

However, there are differences between Lutherans and Pentecostals, Catholics, Orthodox, and Anglo-Catholics, that might might limit our appeal in this high cholesterol smorgasbord.

Luther contrasted the “theology of glory” with the “theology of the cross.”  (Read what I wrote about that here.)  Briefly, the theology of glory is all about success, victory, and power.  Pentecostalism, with its miracles and prosperity gospel; Catholicism, with its institutional power and earthly rule; Orthodoxy, with its mysticism; and Anglo-Catholicism, with its social prestige–all these are kind of that way.  (Not necessarily, but this is part of their appeal.)  The theology of the cross, in contrast, is about failure, suffering, and weakness.  But that’s the path Jesus followed when He saved us, not by conquering the Romans, but by being crucified on the cross.  And that’s the mindset we need to come to, facing up to our own weakness and failures to keep God’s law, so that we cling to the cross of Jesus and the free forgiveness He won for us.  Theologies of glory will probably always be more popular than theologies of the cross.

But still, it is a good sign that people investigating Christianity are looking to the kinds that have “all of the features or traits; not cut down or simplified.”  It’s just that some fat is too unctuous and unhealthy.

Illustration:  Healthy Fat via Bel Vista Medical Spa, CC BY-NC 4.0