N. T. Wright, After You Believe: Why Christian Character Matters. New York: HarperOne, 2010.
I like to revisit books from time to time, and often this means picking up a copy of Homer or Milton. But there are a handful of twentieth century authors I return to again and again as well. C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien are the most obvious ones, with others like Ernest Hemingway and Michael Crichton filling out much of my reading schedule. But one author I have a fondness for but that I don’t discuss often here at A Southern Knickerbocker is N. T. Wright. So today, I’d like to offer some thoughts on a book that was very formative for me as I moved closer to a staunchly reformed faith.
Wright wrote three books close together which dominated a lot of conversation a little over a decade ago. These were all popular level books and were highly promoted across denominational lines when they were released. As time has gone on, some of them receive a bit more criticism today than when they were first published, but I think these are books that still have merit for Christians today. The first book, Simply Christian, offered a kind of apologetic for the Christian faith in a skeptical world along with some basic tenets of Christianity. The second, Surprised by Hope, outlined Wright’s reclamation of the historic view of the Resurrection, which he argued should reorient the life of every Christian. And the third book, After You Believe, offered a way of drawing the previous two together into an argument for what exactly it means to live as a Christian.
From the outset, its worth noting that I would consider After You Believe more of a book on ethics than Christian discipleship. Wright explains his aims of the book in a helpful fashion:
The dream we have that refuse to die – dreams of freedom and beauty, of order and love, dreams that we can make a real difference in the world – come into their own when we put the within a framework of belief in a God who made the entire world and is going to sort it out once and for all, and wants to involve human beings in that process . . . This book is meant to offer a double challenge: to Christians, to think through the nature of Christian behavior from a new angle; to anyone and everyone, to think through what it means to be genuinely human. (xi)
According to Wright, the implication of Christianity is more than simple good behavior; to be a Christian is to be on the road towards a flourishing humanity. His book is broken into eight chapters, each one building upon the previous. While each one has a specific topic mind, the heart of the book is the character of the individual, which leads to the character of the community. At the end of the day, Wright explains, character determines everything (7). What Wright is getting at is something quite radical in a world more frequently called post-secular: Christian character, when exercised by God’s people, can change the world because it so radically different than the systems currently lording over the world (11).
Wright frames the discussion in terms of the two questions that people usually think of regarding how to behave: do I follow the rules, or do I follow my heart? According to Wright, Jesus’ answer to these questions is to reject such a dichotomy entirely (26). Transformation of character is what matters; but what is character? “When you’re suddenly put to the test and don’t have time to think about how you’re coming across, your real nature will come out. That’s why character needs to go all the way through: whatever fills you will spill out” (28). Much of Wright’s ideas regarding the transformation of character hinges on a kind of praxis, where virtues are so ingrained in a person they become second nature, that nature which emerges in the heat of the moment. But Christian character is complex, and in some ways rejects the Aristotelian version of virtue formation. For the Christian, the individual is no longer the center of character; God is now the center (70). Wright sees Matthew 6:33 as the summary of Christian ethics, for if the Christian concentrates on God’s kingdom, everything else that is good and true is included along the way.
For Christians specifically, vocation is a critical aspect of understanding character. Restoring a proper vision of vocation is central to Wright’s thought, especially when he refers to Christians as priests and rulers (78-79). 1 Peter is one of the key texts in Wright’s thesis, though the Pauline Romans and 1 Corinthians play the heavier role in its development.
This is what virtue is all about. The hope is that all those who are “in Christ” and are indwelt by the Spirit will eventually reign in glory over the whole creation, thereby taking up at long last the role commanded for humans in Genesis 1 and Psalm 8 and sharing the inheritance, and the final rescue work, of the Messiah himself, as in Psalm 2. (94)
Christian character, formed through the cultivation of virtue, is Christ’s way of inaugurating His kingdom by way of His Bride in the here and now, although this manifestation is merely a foretaste of the new vocations Christians will possess in the glorious coming kingdom. But this is not a safe, comfortable vocation. It is always held up against the backdrop of the Cross, “couched in the terms made famous by Dietrich Bonhoeffer: ‘Come and die’” (115). The radical terms of the coming kingdom are a part of Jesus’ restorative work; He is setting things aright in terms that only God could establish. Sin must be dealt with and a hard heart must become soft (121).
The transformation that Jesus offer, this complete reimagining of what it means to be human, is accomplished through the renewal of the mind: “what counts is the formation, in the present time, of a character that properly anticipates the promised future state” (141). Wright goes through painstaking details to demonstrate that the New Testament affirms the need to think properly, and that this is only accomplished through the work of Christ in the Christian. And this formation begins with the first step of suffering (177). Suffering is the very thing that proved Christ as the Priest and Ruler that Israel had been waiting for, and it is through suffering that the Christian is pushed to endure and honestly think through the circumstances of life as well as the implications of the Christian faith. Suffering is the starting point for the three virtues found in I Corinthians and the nine fruits of Spirit described in Galatians. But these virtues are not merely a summary of the Law, nor are they new rules to be added to an ever-growing roll of dos and don’ts which people are expected to maintain. It is the living out of these virtues, the Christian ethic, which is totally new, which has an unannounced apologetic to it which stands out in this world (218).
So, what does this priesthood look like when it is moved to action? Wright points out that it is vital to start with the Apostles when answering this question, while the rest of the early Church also serves to point the way for modern Christians (226). Part of this investigation is to avoid the single-minded folly that has plagued the Church over the centuries: “the world is a rich and strange mixture of good and bad and . . . the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ both passes judgment on its utter and rebellious wickedness and reaffirms – the other side of that judgment – its inherent, God-created goodness” (241-242). This judgment and affirmation is best expressed through four Christian virtues: humility, patience, chastity, and charity (248). Wright explains that these virtues are best cultivated through what he calls the virtuous circle consisting of five key components that inculcate Godly character (260). Immersing oneself in Scripture, being aware of the stories unfolding in the world around the individual, seeking out examples of virtuous living, living these things out in a fellowship of Christians, and engaging in the practices which form that community are the elements of forming Christian character. By cultivating a life out of these items, relying on the Holy Spirit to that which humanity could never do on their own, the world will see the difference of the Christian ethic. Then will people genuinely desire to know what this Jesus character is all about.
Wright, as previously mentioned, is a biblical scholar of significant renown. But what sets him apart from many in the academic world is the fact that he has brought his intellectual endeavors to bear on life in the local church. For Wright, the study of God’s Word was never separated from the practice of what that Word taught. This adds a certain practical element in what would otherwise be an academically dense work.
Aside from Wright’s understanding of the resurrection, the basic understanding of Christian virtue offered by Wright is nothing ground-breaking (as this book follows on the heels of Surprised By Hope it is no wonder that the resurrection would play a central role in his idea of a Christian ethic). What Wright does offer, which seems to cause his efforts to stand out from contemporaries and former writers, is his insistence that the purpose of virtue in this world is to foreshadow the coming virtues of the resurrected kingdom. Wright builds his case, particularly in chapter four, on the idea that what Christians do in this life is of eternal consequence. While this idea doesn’t sound revolutionary, it is Wright’s concept of present life as practice which sets his vision apart from other ethics books. This is not a mere matter of obedience, nor is it only a kind of evangelism (though he does acknowledge that it is indeed both of those): living out the virtuous circle is intended to be a physical manifestation of the future kingdom. Wright is aware that the descriptions of the coming kingdom are difficult to square with what we know of the present world, but that does not diminish, in his view, the importance of recognizing the weight of individual and communal actions.1
It is here that Wright moves into territory that was fresh at the time, though it has gained a certain predictability about today. He posits that liturgy is a form of character development that many in the evangelical world overlook. Such would hardly be the case today, though I think it is still something worth taking seriously. While Wright does not go as deep into the liturgical world as Jamie Smith does in his Cultural Liturgies project, it’s worth recalling the contrasting arguments from the period. Francis Chan’s Crazy Love and David Platt’s Radical were best sellers around the same time and arguing for something quite different from Wright. After You Believe is not advocating a simplistic life structured around servanthood (with gobs of guilt piled on for good measure). Wright’s point about liturgies centers on the idea that partaking in the physical actions of worship within the walls of the church building forms the individual and the community as they progress towards a life characterized by virtue. This is not the “live an extreme life for Jesus” message that dominated American Evangelicalism in the early 2000s. I’d argue it is rather a direct rejection of such a message. According to Wright, being plugged in to a local community, working out the details of life in community, specifically within the bounds of Christian worship, is an essential element to the formation of disciples who take up their Cross and follow Jesus.
The actions one performs in a service on Sunday morning are practice for the actions of a Christian living in the world (eating and drinking, communicating with someone else, divorcing myself from my money for a distinct purpose, and reading). God is sanctifying the hum drum activities of the world and making them markers of His coming kingdom. Liturgy has maybe become a more commonplace discussion, but I’m not convinced that enough Evangelical churches are thinking of it the way Wright is suggesting.
After You Believe is an accessible exploration of Christian ethics, and the perfect endnote to Wright’s popular trilogy regarding the basics of Christianity. While the bulk of the material is not exhilaratingly new, Wright still puts forth a compelling argument. And the lack of novelty regarding so much of what he says only further confirms his argument: the method of living that he describes is not new; it is simply being dug up from the past and applied in a modern context. Wright’s work is a worthwhile read and will add to the sanctification of any of God’s saints who chose to explore this valuable contribution.
The only Old Testament evidence Wright really explores for this idea is Daniel 7. He does briefly mention a few passages from Psalms, but oddly enough he does not really engage any of the other Wisdom books. Ecclesiastes seems to help his case, so it is disappointing that there is not more energy devoted here.