An interesting piece from Jake Meador at Mere O on the reigning paradigms of cultural engagement within American evangelicalism: 1) the “faithful presence” approach—embodied by Tim Keller—in which Christians don’t seek (or, at least, don’t presume) control of elite, public institutions but do attempt some level of presence and influence; and 2) the “owned space” approach—Doug Wilson being the exemplar—in which Christians seek out spaces where they can have controlling influence. Meador summarizes, “This, then, is the divide that now exists within politically engaged evangelical Christianity in America. One group is trying to create ecosystems of Christian presence within pluralistic contexts while the other is seeking to build bulwarks of owned space.”

He goes on in the piece to acknowledge the strengths and shortcomings of each approach. Given his deep admiration for Keller, it’s commendable that he speaks forthrightly about how faithful presence can easily drift toward accommodation and compromise—in other words, toward unfaithfulness. Ultimately, though each approach has problems and potential pitfalls, Meador argues that the “faithful presence” approach is the best (and I would concur).

I would, however, quibble with Jake’s characterization of this divide between the two groups as “being a dispute between varieties of Hunterians.” I’ve noted before how Hunter’s work has been regularly misappropriated. To call the “owned space” view a “variety of Hunterianism” is, in my view, to perpetuate this misreading. To be clear: I’m not even commenting on the merits of the “owned space” view; I’m simply making the point that it shouldn’t be considered a species of “Hunterianism.” Wilson’s program of cultural engagement had been up and running for decades by the time To Change the World was published in 2010. The fact that Wilson happened to agree with Hunter that evangelicals possess a superificial (read: wrong) view of culture and how it changes does not mean that their projects ought to be lumped together.

Upon reflection, I think the reason why Hunter’s work has been so consistently misread is that To Change the World is part descriptive sociological analysis and part prescriptive scriptural reflection. But the term “faithful presence” flies as a banner over the whole thing. So, if you agree with Hunter’s sociological analysis (and, frankly, who wouldn’t?), then it doesn’t matter what you believe should be done in response. You might completely reject Hunter’s proposal in the last section of the book. Indeed, many people seem to derive all sorts of oughts for what Christians should do (infiltrate elite institutions, prioritize the arts, etc.) from the is of Hunter’s analysis (cultural change happens through tightly connected groups of elites operating at the centers of cultural power). Ironically (and Hunter is attuned to irony), his analysis ends up getting deployed in service of the same Nietzschean pursuits that he attempts to unmask in Part Two of the book.

So, my counsel: Let’s all agree that one is only a genuine Hunterian, a true purveyor of “faithful presence,” if one agrees (at least in large measure) with Hunter’s proposals in the final part of To Change the World. Faithful presence involves not merely agreeing about the mechanics of cultural change, but agreeing that attempts to sit in the cultural driver’s seat are wrong-headed from the start. To be faithfully present is not to strategically target elite institutions, but to embed ourselves in the vast multiplicity of spaces and environments that Christians have been scattered—whether culturally significant or forgotten, influential or despised.