Old School

Are young people more rebellious today in the United States?  Can they not be ordered or commanded?  Are they different in that they must be asked and nicely, maybe even sweetly?  Do their leaders need to explain, tip-toe, and coddle?  Some say that it has always been that way, that is, every older generation thinks the younger is softer and more disrespectful than they, and every younger generation thinks that their older counterparts are impatient and authoritarian, even despotic.

Today the latter is termed “old school.”  “Old school” physically lifts the chin of the pupil so that he looks him in the eyes, the student sending a signal of independence with his indifferent body language.  “Old school” requires fixated, thoughtful attention out of deference commensurate to his superior position.  “New school” expects placating, conversational tones and vocabulary that treats everyone as equals.   “New school” needs regular admission of error from leadership and even some sense of doubt that begs for suggestions and advice.  “Old school” speaks dogmatically and “new school” repels absolutes.  “Old school” takes charge, talking confidently, and “new school” expects the inmates to have a major say at the asylum.  “Old school” sees things more in black and white, while “new school” sees things more grey and fuzzy.

Again, is all of this a regular repeat in history, every generation, or is it symptomatic of a failing culture and a dying civilization?  In answer to this, consider the nation Judah, Eighth century B. C.  She had trusted Assyria for protection against Samaria and Damascus.  Now she allied herself with Egypt for help against the Assyrians.  God didn’t want this.  He sent His “old school” prophet, Isaiah, to deliver His message again and again.  Isaiah was a type A, fundamental guy going to the softer, gentler generation with his muscular warnings.  He delivered a dogmatic doom and deliverance message, a definite my-way-or-the-highway job, that didn’t set well with their sense and sensibilities.  Isaiah portrays those young fundies with this description (Isaiah 30:9, 10):

[T]his is a rebellious people, lying children, children that will not hear the law of the LORD:  which say to the seers, See not; and to the prophets, Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things.

This younger crowd was very particular about their message.  They wanted it positive, laced with humor, with plenty of room to maneuver; oprah-esque really.  Nothing straight, always with plenty of creamer.  Careful of the tone.  Empathetic.  Perceptive of feelings.  And expressed with just a pinch of doubt—too much certainty can be dangerous, lead to harmful divisiveness.  Ironically, they’re dogmatic about one thing:  tolerance.  Well, at least tolerance of something on the looser side.  That liberty thing.  Must be prudent never to be a prude.  Lax about liberty; emphatic about indulgence.

What doesn’t new school like about old school?  New school doesn’t like that old school makes emphatic statements, absolutes without relativity or nuance.  New school often agrees to disagree.  They like agreeableness and old school seems disagreeable when it disagrees.  They can’t tolerate that tolerantly.   New school loves latitude.  It wants evidence from you, really more than enough proof, but it likes you to respect its opinion—its very humble opinion, of course, it will have you know.  New school doesn’t mind inferences from Scripture unless they cramp its lifestyle.  If the logic doesn’t make them feel good, it suffers from a fault in the major premise, so it won’t be in their new curriculum.  All in all, the credo on the official seal for new school is:  Speak Unto Us Smooth Things.

I had this mainly written, when someone with which I differ on a few important doctrines[1] spoke about this very same matter.  We have the same world view in many ways, so that Dave Doran wrote:

Talk is pretty worthless if it isn’t correct, and testing its correctness is what seems to be missing. We are rapidly descending into a culture where everyone is free to say whatever they want, but no one is allowed to challenge or refute whatever is said. It doesn’t matter if they are right; what matters is that they feel that way. That kind of mush-headedness might be acceptable for the afternoon talk show circuit, but it can’t be accepted by God’s people. What matters most is always what God thinks, and we know what God thinks because He has spoken to us. . . . At the root of my concerns is the question of authority, that is, what will our functional authority be in matters like this? In principle, I imagine we all agree that the Bible is our authority. In practice, sometimes I wonder. How often can we appeal to our experiences without revealing something about the authority that experience wields over our thinking? To what degree have we become saturated with our culture’s relativistic, sentimentalized spirit? The common retorts show evidence of this: “Well, that’s just your view” or “That’s how I feel about it” or “I’ve had lots of people tell me the same thing.”

And then he dittoed my thoughts later:

People with a deep commitment to the Lord and His truth should be marked by the balance of earnestness and humility. We should care enough about truth to take discussions about it seriously. We should recognize that the truth matters more than we do, so we want to be sharpened and shaped by it, even if it comes through confrontation. It is a testament to the spiritual weakness and ill-health of contemporary fundamentalism that disagreements are so quickly personalized. This aspect of the whole discussion was disheartening.

I am amazed somewhat that he and I think the same on this, but I was happy to hear it.  It is highly possible that a large segment of men would more likely listen to him than to me.  I hope what he said at least changes the climate of discussions—puts the badges of the new school tone police back into their boxes of cracker jacks and their whiney victimization with it.

The new school preference on discourse parallels the cry of Judah to its prophets.  They don’t like being told in a straight, no-nonsense fashion.  It is not just a phenomena that repeats itself every generation.  It is a symptom of a dying culture that has reached the stage where it is near collapse.  You know that when the frat house reaches the White House that you’ve got big problems.  When the same kind of people are making the rules for theological discussion, you should know that the safeguard of orthodox doctrine is not all that’s at stake.  New school won’t even be able to protect the water supply.

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[1] I am not a Calvinist; he is.  I believe in the perfect preservation of Scripture; he doesn’t.  I believe the church is local only; he believes the true church is universal.  His dress standards are different than mine.  His fellowship is wider than mine.