InREVIEW: Book Look
By Michael J. Breznau | 2021
The Benedict Option: A Strategy for Christians in a Post-Christian Nation (Sentinel Press, 2017) by Rod Dreher
The Western World is increasingly post-Christian and irreligious. The rapid pace of atheism’s growth across Europe is matched by a new generation in North America with no religious affiliation whatsoever. [1] Specifically within the context of the United States, Jesus-followers face a daily onslaught of moral deterioration, societal fragmentation, and a not-so-subtle attack against the basic, historic values of Christian faith and practice. Popular journalist and author, Rod Dreher, describes the burgeoning secularism as a soon-coming flood – and the dam is about to burst. He paints a dark, ominous portrait, “There are people alive today who may live to see the effective death of Christianity within our civilization [spec. Europe and North America] . . . The U.S. Supreme Court’s Obergefell decision declaring a constitutional right to same-sex marriage was the Waterloo of religious conservatism. . . The public square has been lost. . . If the demographic trends continue, our churches will soon be empty” (p. 8-9).
Yet rather than resort to the time-worn proposals of reclaiming America for God through carte blanche political activism or cultish isolationism, Dreher presents a unique approach in his landmark book The Benedict Option. The path forward – in an increasingly hostile society – is backward, a return to the ancient core of Christian community and mission. Dreher invites us into the story of Saint Benedict of Nursia (480-547 AD). Upon Benedict’s arrival in Rome, he was grieved by the immoral decadence of the so-called Christian empire and dilapidation of the Church. Therefore, he embarked on a short journey outside of the city and established a small, humble community of Jesus-followers and composed what would be known as The Rule, a basic set of guidelines for prayer, labor, accountability, hospitality, and Christian mission. The pattern of this small, eclectic community would become a model for Benedictine monasteries all over the world. But more importantly, the work of Christ through St. Benedict and his band of brothers brought transformation to villages, cities, and even nations for years to come. As Dreher will argue, Benedict’s model of living the Christian faith is a pattern we should also parallel for the preservation of Christian orthodoxy as we, too, enter an era of great spiritual darkness.
Indeed, we stand at a chaotic crossroads in North American culture. But we, as Christians, have been here before. To swim against a stream of hostility is not new territory for disciples of Jesus (p. 12). So, should we head for the hills in order to insulate our families from the coming waves of opposition? Not quite. Dreher contends that his proposal of The Benedict Option is “not a call to escapism and inaction” (p. xvii), neither a rallying cry for a political agenda, a detailed manual on how to save the Church, nor “a standard decline-and-fall lament” (p. 4). But rather a way, “to seek and to serve God in a community of faith constructed to withstand the chaos and decadence all around [us]” (p. 15-16; cf. 54). Dreher argues, “we have to develop creative, communal solutions to help us hold on to our faith and our values in a world growing ever more hostile…” (p. 2).
To accomplish his goal of presenting a path forward by looking backward toward a parallel of St. Benedict’s Christian community, Dreher’s first section of the book outlines the challenges of our post-Christian society, the obvious deterioration, and then proceeds to demonstrate how the essentials of Christian praxis, represented in the ancient Rule of St. Benedict, can also guide us through the coming season of spiritual darkness (p. 4; Chap. 1-3).
In the second major section, Dreher details how the Rule can apply to confessing Christians in the North American context, offering “insights in how to approach politics, faith, family, community, education, and work” (p. 4-5; Chap. 4-8).
Third, he provides a deep critique of two categories that present a serious challenge to our discipleship as authentic Christians: modern approaches to sex and technology (p. 4-5; Chap. 9-10). Ultimately, Dreher calls for a return to the ancient paths of Christian devotion, simplicity of life, and authentic community for the preservation and future flourishing of Christianity.
Strong Points
Positive attributes abound in this well-crafted, popular-level book. Dreher’s extensive experience as a journalist shines through his careful turn-of-phrase and tightly woven logic. He does not mince words. Each chapter concludes with a captivating transition into the next section. The book moves sprightly forward with numerous illustrations and helpful interviews with monks, priests, pastors, teachers, scholars, and socio-political commentators. The author is convincing if not sermonic in his tone. All these colorful elements make it hard to put down.
Not only does Dreher give a clear portrayal of the current crisis, but also a concise yet astute excursus on important subjects like the growth of Moralistic Therapeutic Deism (p. 10-12), an excellent historical review of medieval metaphysical realism and Ockham’s nominalism (p. 22-29), a succinct historical summary of the Renaissance and the period of the Reformation (p. 30), and a well-intended critique of modern evangelicalism (p. 110-113).
The Benedict Option also spends significant print space on the theology of work and education, which are two vital components of thriving Christianity communities (p. 175-187).
While uplifting the ideal of community as devoted followers of Jesus living together in creative ways, Dreher wisely cautions against idolizing community itself (see pg. 138-139).
His work on the dangers of modern technology is a must-read for every Christian, especially those immersed in the current climate of social media and parents of school-age children (p. 224-236). Additionally, he offers wise, practical advice on responding to the sexual revolution by upholding and living the truth, yet doing so with love for our neighbor (p. 204ff).
Overall, The Benedict Option has a warm ecumenical but richly orthodox flavor that reaches across the pew to all evangelical, Catholic, and Orthodox readers (cf. 116). Every professing Christian will benefit from this book, even if finding points of disagreement.
Weaker Points
The Benedict Option has many good merits, but also some weaknesses. First, Dreher sometimes employs overstatement to make his point. For example, when discussing the current political climate and Trump’s election to the presidency (at the time of publishing), he calls the hope that Trump will deliver a “restoration of Christian morality and social unity” a “beyond delusional” idea (p. 79). While it is true that such a positive outlook on Trump’s administration was myopic, such overstatement is not likely to win-over those voters to the Benedict Option.[2] In talking about education, he again presses and overstates his case, stating bluntly, “parents need to pull them from public schools . . . pull your kids out” (p. 146, 159). Christian educators serving within public schools are not likely to receive his bold call with gladness. In fact, he fails to address them at all. Instead, his singular answer is a total exit.
His overstatement carries into the doom-saying sprinkled throughout the book. As mentioned earlier, he seems to believe the Church is destined for extinction if we do not employ the Benedict Option (see p. 8-9). Dreher argues, we must “choose to make a decisive leap into a truly countercultural way of living Christianity, or we [will] doom our children and our children’s children to assimilation” (p. 2). He later continues in the same vein by calling Christians to batten down the hatches, per se, for “very dark times” (p. 89).[3]
Second, Dreher’s proposal appears to be primarily institutional at the expense of missional praxis. His clear objective is to stand for religious liberty and build educational institutions or cloisters. In his opinion, aside from building up churches, nothing is more important than “the Christian educational mission” (p. 143). While ecclesial and educational organizations are vital to our future, we must not overlook the beauty and simplicity of bearing witness to our neighbors, discipling within a relational context, and developing inroads into the community in which we live. Historically, mere separatism and institutionalism has not proven to bear good fruit.
Third, at times, the book’s application feels distant from Saint Benedict himself (see Ch. 3-5); the second half of the book climbs far up the ladder of abstraction away from his original thesis as Dreher develops his own ideas of institutional formulation. While he is ripe with good concepts, one is hard-pressed to find direct parallels back to the Benedictine lifestyle.
Lastly, Dreher is neither a trained biblical exegete nor the recipient of formal theological education. This shows in his light use of scripture and theological development. For example, he negatively regurgitates a common but skewed opinion of the Reformers’ view on scriptural authority, stating, “Scripture was their only authority in religious matters” (p. 32). Sola Scriptura, as defined and defended by the Reformers, never meant “Bible only.” Sola Scriptura means “the Bible as the final authority”, or final filter through which we interpret all life, faith, and practice. But “final authority” does not mean “only authority.” If we believe the Spirit preserved the Word, then we must also believe the Spirit is preserving the Church. The faith and faithful traditions handed down from the apostolic fathers are a valid source of Spirit-directed authority. In addition, his beautiful historical summaries lack source citations (p. 22-47).
I also disagree with his very broad ecumenical bent (p. 136ff), most specifically of Mormons and Jews; this deters from his argument by attempting to incorporate those who do not believe in the essentials of the historic Christian faith (see p. 131-32, 35).[4]
Reflection and Interaction
Since I have already provided rather detailed analysis of the book’s pros and cons, I’ll now briefly focus on three points of immediate ministry application: (1) An American Focus, (2) Dangers of Technology, and (3) Art and Beauty. Indeed, Dreher says The Benedict Option is “not a how-to manual” (p. 4), but the second half the book definitely outlines how to implement his concepts and the back contains a group discussion guide for placing his ideas into practice.
An American Focus: While the principles of The Benedict Option may be applied to many different parts of the world, the message is decidedly American (see p. 84). Dreher implies that maintaining our First Amendment rights is absolutely necessary for Christianity’s survival in North America. He writes, “Religious liberty is critically important to the Benedict Option. Without a robust and successful defense of First Amendment protections, Christians will not be able to build the communal institutions that are vital to maintain our identity and values” (p. 84). However, in numerous nations around the world, faithful Christians are surviving – indeed flourishing on mission – without many of the rights we enjoy in the USA. Several pages later, he nuances his statement, but weakly so, “As important as religious liberty is, though, Christians cannot forget that religious liberty is not an end in itself but a means to the end of living as Christians in full” (p. 88). While I am thankful to God for the many freedoms and material blessings we comfortably enjoy, history reminds us that God’s mission does not ride on the back of our creature comforts, but rather the “blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.”
I agree with the author that politics will not save us (p. 18), even politics is not the answer (p. 123), and that our political approach – must be a “hands-on localism” (p. 78). Dreher goes further by stating, “Losing political power might just be the thing that saves the church’s soul.” (p. 99). I fully agree. Dreher quips, “Political power is not a moral disinfectant” (p. 81). I would add that it is often a pollutant. Herein Dreher is caught between his desire to build robust ecclesial and educational institutions while at the same time recognizing the oft-futility of political activism. I believe our aim as leaders in local churches is to cultivate localized communities around God’s economy and agenda, regardless of what strictures a government entity may attempt to foist upon us. At the same time, we can recognize that God may call some men and women to serve within the political system for the glory of God and good of society.
Technology: Over the past fifteen months, churches across the world have been thrust into “online worship” as a necessary experience due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Many families were also forced to work from home and educate their children from home through various online methods. In our area, churches were closed for in-person worship for a minimum of three months. Many were closed much longer than that. The stress of isolation led many into loneliness, depression, anger, substance abuse, and even suicide. Dreher’s words appear to foresee this crisis: “Life was an urgent struggle to make sense of what was happening” (p. 49).
Upon our return to a sense of normalcy with in-person worship gatherings, family events, and house parties we still sense that all is not well. The crisis and the massive amount of time spent in front of screens has changed how we communicate, think, and even entertain ourselves.
Technology, in an “online church” world, has, in our context, come dangerously close to altogether controlling the worship service (see p. 234-35). Right now, our team is making a conscious effort to make sure the live-stream does not govern the elements of our in-person worship. For example, we noticed that prayer had become a place-holder in the service order while band members and tech staff were shuffling about. Therefore, we are making changes to reflect the idea that time stops for God. When prayer is taking place, we all must be praying.
On a broader, societal level, Dreher’s mention of Vaclav Benda shouts with relevancy. Benda was a Czech mathematician, dissident, and devout Catholic during the Soviet rule over his nation. Dreher writes, “Benda believed that Communism maintained its iron grip on the people by isolating them, fragmenting their natural social bonds. The Czech regime severely punished the Catholic Church, driving many believers to privatize their faith, retreating behind the walls of their homes so as not to attract attention from the authorities” (p. 93).
As one who contracted and battled COVID-19, I understand the use of caution. However, we face severe consequences from the long-term isolation and fragmentation. What was Benda’s solution? The church can “reactivate people’s social nature” (p. 96). If we consider this historical scenario for church-mission application (rather than merely political), we may take hope that a beautiful, primary work of the church can be to facilitate a re-engagement of people’s social (human!) nature. What was part and parcel to the fall of the Communist regime in my family’s ancestral lands of Czechoslovakia is just what humans now need most to experience a renewal of hope, emotional healing, and spiritual health.
Dreher gives further application points in staccato-like form: “Turn off the television. Put the smartphones away. Read books. Play games. Make music. Feast with your neighbors. It is not enough to avoid what is bad; you must also embrace what is good. Start a church, or a group within your church. . . plant a garden . . . teach kids how to play music, and start a band. Join the volunteer fire department” (p. 98). As Jesus-followers, let’s cultivate a movement of simply being human again – in all its simplicity through the ordinary aspects of life together.
Art and beauty: Carrying into the same vein of human flourishing and an effectual, thriving church, Dreher reminds us, “As times get uglier, the church will become bright and brighter, drawing people to its light” (p. 117). The goodness and grace of God working within and through us is a means of evangelizing (cf. p. 117-119, 124). So, the coalescing beauties of creating art, agricultural care, making music, and more can point people to Christ. Why? Because Christ is the source of beauty.
In the context of the church gathered, I’m convicted that we must actively work to recover the past (p. 105). Our faith is not novel, new, or trite. Church history is rich with robust liturgies that carried saints through dark times. We can regain an ancient yet fresh, tight-knit family and community (p. 123). The path forward is backward, a return to the ancient core of Christian community and mission. On a personal level with my family, I recognize that fasting and a grace-motivated asceticism is something I’ve sorely neglected (p. 114). The time has come for homes to give all the glowing screens a hiatus (see p. 126, 151). We, as parents, must lead the way in forming focused times of prayer, singing, scriptural reflection, and a self-denial by fasting from okay things in order to receive something better through God’s grace.
At the heart of the Benedict Option is discipleship, walking in the will of Jesus and guiding others to do the same. Our children, grand-children, and fellow church members must live in a deeper communion with Christ and a holistic dwelling together as neighbors as we navigate the dark waters ahead. Yet we need not fear. Our mission is clear. Christ is with us (Matt. 28:20). So, as we journey together, let us rehearse the essence of discipleship through this poetic line from Saint Benedict: “To run the way of God’s commandments with unspeakable sweetness and love” (p. 51).
FOOTNOTES
[1] The Lausanne Movement published a thorough treatise in 2004 on the rise of non-religious societies and how evangelicals may think and respond to such seismic shifts (see https://lausanne.org/content/lop/religious-non-religious-spirituality-western-world-lop-45). Now in 2021, their predictions have proven entirely accurate. The latest data from the Barna Group and the Pew Research Center indicates the fastest growing category of religion in the USA is that of “the None’s,” i.e. those with no religious affiliation (see https://www.pewresearch.org/topics/religiously-unaffiliated/).
[2] The book was published in the year of Donald Trump’s election as President of the United States. Therefore, the reader will find brief but insightful commentary on the positive results that might come from his election but also the possible negative consequences of Trump’s leadership (see p. 3ff).
[3] To give him credit, he does offer a helpful nuance to this section on pages 94-95.
[4] Two other minor critiques: (1) Dreher hammers the media as the whipping boy for all that ails society. But how would local news anchors, who may happen to be Christians, respond to that? Not favorably. I’ve learned this from personal conversation with two good Christian men who are career newsmen for television networks . (2) Dreher uses the term “Gay Christian,” which places the modifier in front of Christ (p. 213), which is not theologically true. Christ-followers are not first White, Black, Asian, Hispanic, middle-class, or heterosexual Christians. The Pauline epistles continually reinforce the truth that our primary identity is solely in Christ. One may be a Christian, who struggles against same-sex attraction. But the struggle does not define them.
