Confidence or Anxiety?

Posted by J. Mark Bertrand
on Saturday, February 03, 2007
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As I pointed out in yesterday's post, "writing from a Christian worldview" means different things to different people. It took me a while to appreciate this point. When I first heard evangelical novelists employing the term, I was optimistic, because it seemed to express a newfound theological confidence. It promised a kind of fiction more deeply Christian, in contrast to the christened surfaces I'd observed in the past. In some cases, I'm happy to say, that's precisely what it meant. Over time, though, I came to see that the confidence I expected was not always present. Instead, for some the idea of "writing from a Christian worldview" exemplified anxiety, or even retreat.

Worldview confidence means acting as if what is asserted in your theology is true, and not just a case to be argued. This confidence includes a willingness to confront reality head-on, to face even the most difficult questions, trusting that nothing such honesty might uncover will topple the house of cards. Worldview anxiety, though, takes the "already, not yet" of the Kingdom and replaces it with "not yet, maybe never." It stage-manages reality to insure that all the questions are answered and certain problems are never faced. While it parades itself as a kind of faith, what it projects is quite the opposite. The impression worldview anxiety gives, when it finds its way into fiction, is that the perspective on display cannot stand up to scrutiny. It is, in a sense, self-refuting.

Strangely enough, when some people speak of "writing from a Christian worldview," they really mean writing without reference to Christianity. The usage goes something like this: I'm writing from a Christian worldview, rather than having anything explicitly Christian in my story. To my mind, while this isn't anxiety, it doesn't seem like confidence either. Worldview confidence isn't neglect. It strives toward thematic depth with the convicton that open-eyed honesty is the way to get there. A book that is troubled neither in its depths or on the surface is probably not written from a worldview at all, though it inevitably betrays some traces.

I'm not arguing, of course, that "writing from a Christian worldview" means one thing and not another. Obviously, it has a variety of connotations. For my part, I'm attempting to write with worldview confidence, as defined here. Others are free to pursue their own agendas, whether they involve anxiety, retreat, indifference or something else entirely. My only desire is that we not all be lumped in together.