Polemics Horizon: The Doctrine of Bawitdaba, da bang, da dang diggy diggy

When I started developing the modern discipline of what we now commonly know as “polemics” (back when it was relegated to the dusty corner of the Internet and was occupied only by reputational vagrants) our focus was on the academy. We early pioneers in a field barely 15 years old, had the unfortunate attribute of noticing. Like a terminal disease, we couldn’t help but notice things.

We noticed when Southern Baptists laid down arms with the Campbellites, with whom we had been at theological war since 1959 and Lifeway (formerly, the Southern Baptist Sunday School Board) went from publishing tracts against the Churches of Christ to selling their material.

We noticed a “softening tone on homosexuality,” and the rise of the Christian Eunuch status in evangelical parachurch ministries, and the celebration of celibate gay Christian leaders who were presented in evangelical media like sexually oriented magical negroes who’ve come to save us (that’s not racist, google it).

We noticed when Albert Mohler announced Southern Seminary’s Abstract of Principles was a “three point document.” If you don’t know what that means, just let it suffice to say that it was a weird shift, and stranger still that no one seemed to care.

We noticed when Midwestern Seminary, belonging to a denomination traditionally opposed to the excesses of the charismatic movement, seemed to develop an uncomfortably close relationship with the International House of Prayer.

We noticed when evangelical schools ranging from Westminster Philadelphia to Oauchita Baptist started naming things after, and taking millions from, Clinton’s former money man and convicted campaign finance launderer, James Riady, right around about the time they started pushing Social Justice programs.

Our goal, early in the field of Internet-era polemics, was to make people aware of the sudden shifts that usually went without notice. And so, we made note of it. All of it. Every…painful…detail.

Our early website analytics at Pulpit & Pen showed our #1 readership zipcode was 48020 (Southern Baptist Theological Seminary), #2 was 76115 (Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary), #3 was 70126 (New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary), and #4 was 27587 (Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary). In short, our website was being passed around the Southern Baptist academy - largely in secret - like the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition at scout camp. There was no other other outlet for people who also had the unfortunate habit of noticing things.

This readership and patronage led online polemics to get pretty technical, pretty quickly. Soon, the focus steered toward topics wildy popular among TheoBros and doctine nerds, and largely nobody else. Topics like Impassibility (looking at you, Reformed Baptists), what the Westminster divines meant by the term “General Equity,” or how many angels can dance on the head of a needle, were the bread and butter of 2010-2020 polemics.

Around 2020, wokeness in American evangelicalism came to a fever pitch and lines were clearly drawn (with the exception of Mohler, who like an expert in the hokey pokey, has grown adept at putting one foot in, one foot out). This coincided with the Covid pandemic and controversies surrounding lockdowns. These issues both formed a trifecta with the George Floyd race riots and the #MeToo and corresponding #ChurchToo movements. Or is that a quadfecta?

In any event, that period of time led to an intense focus in polemics to delineate the lines of good guys and bad guys. And so, we focused greatly on names that nobody besides TheoBros knew and nobody but TheoBros cared about.

Is Bartholomew Gervanderflut, the professor of popcockery at Heinderschmidt Seminary starting to slip?

Sure, names like French, Moore, Prior, Greear, the other Moore, Dever, Duncan, and Stetzer all meant something to us. And so did the names Johnson, Buice, Buck, White, and Ascol. But the thing is - and we should all admit this - those names didn’t mean anything then, and don’t mean anything now, to the vast majority of Americans (who, contrary whatever favela David Platt is currently recording from, is our primary and most immediate mission field).

I would submit to you that all our work in making those dividing lines clear, as well as the ten years of mind-numbing, eye-rolling minutia of doctrinal controversy, was important.

But let me tell you something.

Bawitdaba, da bang, da dang diggy diggy.

What if I told you that those lyrics, as nonsensical as they might be, are more recognized by Americans than the Apostle’s Creed? Would you not agree?

If you’re wondering what tongue-speaking devil just typed that, those are the words of Kid Rock, in his song, Bawitadaba. I don’t know what it means, either. But, it was nominated for a grammy and is the 47th best hard rock song in history, according to people who rank the best hard rock songs in history.

Let me admit, when I recently listened to Kid Rock on the stage with Tucker Carlson in September during his national tour, I was only slightly less embarrassed for conservatives than when Tucker interviewed Rosanne Barr on the same tour. He was vulgar, irreverent, disrespectful of Tucker’s family audience, and had literally nothing to say of any measurable value other than that he is ridiculously rich and a fan of Donald Trump.

But - and hear me out - check out this clip from the Joe Rogan Experience.

Sure, there’s always been celebrities who profess that Jesus is Just Alright with them. And it’s nothing new that aging musicians or actors get Jesusy in their old age.

However, I’m telling you with full conviction, something very different is happening in our culture. I know that because I’m gifted with the power of noticing things. And this wind is blowing across America on the back of a populist social revival that is about to put Trump back into the Oval Office. And if you think the reelection of a man twice impeached, several times arrested, and charged with 1,356 felonies is unbelievable, you’ve not seen anything yet.

I’m not suggesting Donald Trump has anything to do with what God is doing, although I’d perhaps suggest what God is doing has a thing or two to do with Donald Trump.

In the clip above, Kid Rock makes the point that he knows Jesus is real because he’s been able to forgive Bud Light. If you don’t think that makes sense, it’s because it doesn’t. It’s Bawitdaba, da bang, da dang diggy diggy.

But Kid Rock isn’t alone. Consider the names of Elon Musk, Tucker Carlson, Theo Von, Steve Bannon, or Russell Brand. These are no two-tiered celebrities, and have begun to be “open and affirming” of Jesus.

It’s here that people may start to scream at me, telling me Jesus doesn’t need celebrities. Oh, I know. That’s the truth, but that’s not my point. Consider that I’ve noticed Elon and Tucker are adopting a cultural identity Christianity, Theo probably doesn’t know what Easter is, Steve Bannon has started practicing Lectio Divina, and Russell Brand is about two yoga stretches away from being a New Age messiah.

I’m not suggesting that polemicists should criticize these people the way we would criticize seminary professors. I’m suggesting we evangelize them.

I’m suggesting that when the Holy Spirit starts bringing in the sheaves, the people best equipped to hold the door open to the Shepherd’s Gate do so, post haste. The devil will absolutely try to commandeer this current move of the Holy Spirit to bring people headlong into a faux-Christianity that has the power to make religious but doesn’t have the power to save.

In order for polemicists to do that, they’re going to have to walk away from some of the old topics of conversation and toward lost people.

If we want people to hear a gospel deeper than Bawitdaba, da bang, da dang diggy diggy, we had better get out in front of this thing.