In the last article in this series, we discussed the most basic principle to rightly understand the “church v. state” conundrum. That principle was this—there are two kingdoms, Babylon and Jerusalem. Babylon will lose. Now we’ll build on this foundation and introduce the next building block:
Principle 2: God’s kingdom is not America or any other country
What hath the “Jerusalem that is above” to do with Washington D.C., London, Moscow, Beijing, Mexico City, and Buenos Aries? Nothing. That is, not directly. God’s kingdom is not the USA, Great Britain, or Russia … not even Barbados. American Christians may nod their heads at this point.
I’d like to ask you to stop. Think for a moment. Then realize that I really mean that. America has nothing to do with God’s kingdom. That means something important for the church v. state issue—but more on that later.
The “Babylon” which the Apostle John describes in Revelation 17-18 represents Satan’s kingdom in all its flavors. Some interpreters see Babylon only as a geo-political foe which will rise in the last days—it only has relevance for the tribulation. I think it’s more than that.
As I said earlier, Babylon is all the societies, cultures, values, and systems that oppose God throughout history. No matter their outward form, they have the same origin—Satan. This evil empire’s aim is to be a stealthy narcotic, dulling our senses, distracting us from the Gospel light with … whatever, all while disguising its presence. This is why the image of the high-class prostitute is so apt—Babylon is seduction to idolatry,[1] in any form. It entices us to give ourselves to something other than God.
Of course, this “dominion of darkness” (Col 1:13) will take final form as a nation state in the last days, but it still exists here and now as a nefarious shadow behind the curtain. Before it assumes legal and political shape later, it exists now as influence, as values, as worldviews, as wicked ethics, as degenerate cultures in various local contexts. Think of it as a sinister “e pluribus unum,” in that “out of many” there is really “one” malevolent force—Satan.
Jesus’ kingdom is also in an “already/not yet” state, and it will also take legal and political shape once He returns and topples Babylon (Rev 19). It, too, exists for the moment as subversive and countercultural influence, values, worldviews, and cultures. Ideally, these “cultures” are not those of nation states, but the particular, authentic expressions of the true Jesus communities within those countries. “Out of the many” that is the global church there is “one” prime mover—the Lord Jesus Christ.
Both kingdoms are “already, but not yet” in this “field” that is the world, which means the countries where we live are simply the individual battlespaces of a global conflict. Cultures, values, worldviews, and influence ebbs and flows from one side to the other as local and regional actions in a much larger war.
This means “Babylon” is the USA. It’s China. It’s Ukraine. It’s Russia. It’s every part of this world, which the Apostle Paul says is under the sway of “the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient,” (Eph 2:2). But these same places are also “the kingdom of God” in the form of individual Jesus communities—the “wheat” and the “weeds” inhabit the same battlespace at the same time. To borrow a cliché from Vietnam, it’s “hearts and minds” that each kingdom is after, because that’s what drives our actions (cp. Prov 4:23; Lk 6:45).
So, I say again—God’s kingdom is completely distinct from any country on this earth. This is what Jesus meant when He said this to Pilate:
My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.
John 18:36
He didn’t simply mean “I ain’t from here!” or “my kingdom is located in heaven, not on earth.” The kingdom will be here (Rev 21-22)—Belinda Carlisle was right about heaven being a place on earth. What Jesus meant is something like “my kingdom is totally different than anything here.” It’s from another sphere, another realm, “from another place.” It’s a different thing (cp. Jn 8:23).[2] It’s a kingdom predicated on His loving sacrifice which prompts our loving allegiance and obedience (Deut 6:5; Mk 12:28-32). If Jesus’ kingdom had merely been from this sphere, concerned with borders, power, and politics, His disciples would have fought to prevent His capture.
But it isn’t, so they didn’t.
This means whenever Christians conflate kingdom values with nationalist interests[3] as if they were the same thing, they’re making a terrible mistake. They are not the same thing—not even close. God’s kingdom is distinct from every nation state.
We’ll explore what that means in the next article.
[1] “… any form of worship or religious practice presented or interpreted by the writer or speaker as equivalent to this; the worship of a false god,” (“idolatry,” noun, no. 1a, OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/91099?redirectedFrom=idolatry (accessed April 29, 2023)).
[2] The preposition in ἡ βασιλεία ἡ ἐμὴ οὐκ ἔστιν ἐκ τοῦ κόσμου τούτου seems to express derivation. For commentary, see (1) Leon Morris, The Gospel According to John, in NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1971), pp. 769-770; (2) C.K. Barrett, The Gospel According to St. John (London: SPCK, 1960), p. 447; (3) Alvah Hovey, Commentary on the Gospel of John, in American Commentary (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1885), p. 366.
[3] “Advocacy of or support for the interests of one’s own nation, esp. to the exclusion or detriment of the interests of other nations,” (s.v. “nationalism,” noun, no. 1a, OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/125289?redirectedFrom=nationalism (accessed April 29, 2023)).
This is my translation of 2 Timothy 2:11-14, which is the text I’m using for a memorial service sermon tomorrow. I never use my own translations while preaching, but the act of translating really helps me understand what the passage says. This is a very beautiful passage.
Some teachers believe v. 13 is a warning about the cost of rejecting the Gospel. I disagree–I think it’s an encouraging word about how, even as we fail to be as trustworthy, reliable, and dependable as we ought to be, Jesus is always faithful.
Providence is what Christians call “God governing things to turn out like He decided.” Either God is trying really hard to make something work, or He directs and controls reality. The scriptures tell us the second option is the right one. But, how does this work? This bible study considers what the scriptures have to say about this issue, and why it matters for your life.
Here are three resources that you might find helpful when considering this topic:
In Romans 11, Paul finally answers the question he’s been dancing around since ch. 9: what is God’s plan for the people of Israel?
He’s defended God against false accusations (Rom 9:6-29).
He’s told us the nations have obtained righteousness from God, even though they didn’t pursue it. However, the people of Israel have come up empty. “But Israel, chasing after law as the means of righteousness, didn’t achieve that goal. Why not? Because they’re chasing righteousness not by means of faith, but as if by means of works,” (Rom 9:31-32; my translation).
Paul explained: “… because they don’t know the special righteousness which God offers and are trying to set up their own righteousness, they haven’t submitted themselves to this one-of-a-kind righteousness from God,” (Rom 10:3; my translation).[1]
So, in Romans 11, Paul at last answers the question. But we’re making a mistake if we reduce this to an academic question about “Israel.” The real question is: “how will God’s divine rescue plan come together?” Christians sometimes have incomplete ideas about this—they either ignore His promises to the people of Israel or maximize those promises and lose sight of the whole. So, how will God’s plan come together, and what will it look like when it’s finished?
1. God hasn’t rejected the people of Israel (vv. 11:1-6)
God has not rejected His people.[2] Perhaps a better translation is “repudiate,”[3] which gives the idea of to thrust or drive away[4]—to cast off, disown, to refuse to be associated with.[5] How could God have disowned His people if Paul himself is a native Israelite (Rom 11:1)? God has known the people of Israel for a long time[6]—He has a relationship with them (Rom 11:2). It is not over for them.
So, what’s happening, then? Why have the people of Israel not accepted Jesus as their Messiah? Does God intend to rescue (a) all the people of Israel, or (b) a group from within the larger number?
Paul explains that, for the moment, God is working through a remnant. Just as He reserved a small core of people for Himself during the prophet Elijah’s day, “[s]o too, at the present time there is a remnant chosen by grace,” (Rom 11:5). And, then and now, these are people God has reserved for Himself—salvation is ultimately the result of God’s specific grace(Rom 11:4).[7] Whatever God is up to, for right now He’s only rescuing a smaller group of Jewish people.
This rescue is by means of grace, not by means of works[8]—or else it wouldn’t be called “grace” (Rom 11:6). This is what the people of Israel had missed (Rom 9:30 – 10:4). If I owe you money, when I pay you it’s not an expression of love or friendship—it’s a business transaction. With God, His divine favor and love is a gift, not a business transaction.
2. Instead, God is punishing the people of Israel (vv. 11:7-10)
So, if God hasn’t repudiated the people of Israel, what is He doing with them?
The people of Israel had chased after righteousness but missed the boat. The chosen ones among them had made it, “but the others were hardened,” (Rom 11:7). The idea here is a divine blinding, a veil of sorts, a darkening of the mind—a mental block that makes them “not get it.”[9]
This is a punishment which follows the failed chase—“God permits them to become entangled in their own No.”[10] If God is God, then He has the power to act upon our hearts and minds so that we make real, voluntary decisions, but in the manner He wants (cp. Jn 12:39-40). God channels our desires towards the goal He’s determined. This is not a new thing:
When Moses preached to the people of Israel on the eastern banks of the Jordan River, he recounted Israel’s long and sad tale of disobedience. Paul quotes Moses here in support: “God gave them a spirit of stupor, eyes that could not see and ears that could not hear, to this very day,” (Rom 11:8; quoting Deut 29:4).
King David called out to God in misery and asked for judgment on his enemies: “May the table set before them become a snare; may it become retribution and a trap. May their eyes be darkened so they cannot see, and their backs be bent forever,” (Rom 11:9-10; quoting Ps 69:22-23).
Paul says the same thing has happened to the people of Israel. God hasn’t repudiated or disowned them—He’s punishing them.
3. What’s the point of God’s punishment? (vv. 11:11-32)
Paul writes:
So, I’m asking: “they didn’t stumble and ruin themselves, did they?” May it never be! Instead, because of their false step, the divine rescue [goes] to the nations, so that it will make the people of Israel jealous.[11]
Romans 11:11; my translation
There you have it. Israel’s “false step” or “trespass—their rejection of Christ as the long-promised prophet, rescuer, and king—triggers God’s pivot to the nations. God is making the people of Israel jealous, envious (cp. Rom 10:19). Interestingly, Paul’s focus is not the nations per se. Instead, he frames the people of Israel as the hinge upon which God’s whole rescue plan turns.[12] The idea is that the people of Israel will see God showing love + grace to the nations, become jealous, re-evaluate, then choose divine rescue through Jesus.
This obviously hasn’t yet happened. Right now, the people of Israel either (a) don’t care, or (b) reject Christ. The people of Israel will never become jealous unless they first agree that Jesus is their Messiah. For example, one kid won’t be jealous of the other’s cookie unless they both agree the cookie is worth having! I’m not jealous if my wife eats plain Lays potato chips, because I don’t like plain Lay’s potato chips.
So, when will God change their minds and make the people of Israel jealous, so they’ll want Jesus as their king, too? During the Millennium (see Zech 12:10ff). But Paul ignores this question—he homes in on “the nations” who will read his letter. He deploys a sort of parable to explain God’s divine rescue plan.
3.1. The parable of the olive tree (vv. 11:13-24)
Paul is the apostle to the nations. But, along the way, he hopes to “somehow arouse my own people to envy and save some of them,” (Rom 11:14). Remember that, for the moment, God is saving a remnant of the people of Israel and Paul aims to scoop some of them up as he goes along. He declares “if the root is holy, so are the branches” (Rom 11:16). That is, if the people of Israel are the channel for all the covenants, the patriarchs, the promises (Rom 9:3-5)—i.e., “the root” of the Christian family—then surely the “branches” downstream of the patriarchs (the people of Israel alive in this present age) have a future, too.[13] Their restoration will be like a resurrection from the dead (Rom 11:16)!
Paul now segues into the olive tree parable:
If some of the branches have been broken off, and you, though a wild olive shoot, have been grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing sap from the olive root, do not consider yourself to be superior to those other branches.
Romans 11:17-18
God has broken some of these downstream Israelite “branches” off, and grafted non-native “olive shoots” into the tree. They “now share in the nourishing sap from the olive root.” This is not a substitution or a replacement—it is an unexpected addition. Both (a) the native branches which remain, and (b) the non-native branches which God has added to the tree, partake of the same nutrients from the same root. “The Gentiles nourish themselves on the rich root of the patriarchal promise”[14] because, as the apostle writes elsewhere, “if you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise,” (Gal 3:29).
Because these new “olive shoots” are non-native, they mustn’t become arrogant. “You will say then, ‘Branches were broken off so that I could be grafted in,’” (Rom 11:19). This is true, but the people of Israel were “hardened” or “blinded” (i.e., branches cut off from the tree) because of their unbelief. In contrast, the nations (i.e., the non-native olive shoots) only remain “in” this tree and stand firm because of faith. Faith is the determining factor, so “[d]o not be arrogant, but tremble,” (Rom 11:20).
If you ever get to the point that you think your relationship with God is because of who you are, what you’ve done, what you bring to the table—that it’s about something other than faith + trust in Jesus (Rom 11:20)—then you’ll be cut out of the tree just as surely as the people of Israel have been (Rom 11:22).
The players in the parable are now clear:
One olive tree → One family of God
Two types of branches on this tree → Two different people groups within God’s family
There is (a) one family of God, (b) from two different places, (c) drawing on the same Lord, the same faith, the same baptism (Eph 4:5; i.e., the same sap). There is one flock, governed by the same shepherd and king. There is the same divine rescue, the same love, the same grace, the same forgiveness. This is the secret or mystery which has now been revealed by the Holy Spirit to God’s apostles and prophets: “the secret is that, through the Good News, the nations are fellow-heirs, and united in one family, and sharers together in God’s promise in relationship with Christ Jesus,” (Eph 3:6, my translation).
Jesus spoke of “other sheep” that were not native to His flock: “I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock, and one shepherd,” (Jn 10:16).
John wrote that the high priest Caiphas spoke better than he knew when he suggested it would be for the greater good if they killed the troublesome Jesus: “[H]e prophesied that Jesus would die for the Jewish nation, and not only for that nation but also for the scattered children of God, to bring them together and make them one,” (Jn 10:51-52). This refers to the nations.
The prophet Isaiah records the words of the mysterious “suffering servant” as he recalls Yahweh’s instructions. It wasn’t enough for the Servant to just rescue the people of Israel: “I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth,” (Isa 49:6).
This means Paul’s olive tree parable is a restatement of an old promise in new clothes. And to be sure, it’s not over for the people of Israel (cp. Rom 11:11)—“if they do not persist in unbelief, they will be grafted in, for God is able to graft them in again,” (Rom 11:23).
3.2. This parable means the people of Israel have a future (vv. 11:25-32)
Paul is using the parable of the olive tree to explain God’s rescue plan—how does the tree come to its finished form? It will be a three-step process:
I do not want you to be ignorant of this mystery, brothers and sisters, so that you may not be conceited: Israel has experienced a hardening in part until the full number of the Gentiles has come in, and in this way all Israel will be saved.[15]
Romans 11:25-26
It’s never been a secret that God plans to rescue His people. What has been a secret is the specific way this rescue plan happens. Paul doesn’t want the nations to be in the dark any longer, else they might become arrogant and think themselves wiser than they are. Here, Paul writes, is the mystery:
First, the most people of Israel do not believe God’s good news of righteousness as a gift, by means of faith. Instead, they choose to pursue it by means of “resume-ism.” So, this majority of Israelites are the branches whom God has “broken off” and to whom He’s temporarily sent “blindness” and “hardness of heart”—a dullness of spirit.
So, second, God has now pivoted to the nations and to the Jewish remnant—the “wild olive shoots” are being grafted into the tree. This present stage of God’s rescue plan will last “until the full number of the nations have entered in” and joined God’s kingdom family, at which time God lifts the divine “blindness” and rescue operations will proceed for the people of Israel.
And so, third, this is how “all Israel will be rescued.”
The “all Israel” refers to the ethnic Jewish people who are alive at the time God moves to the third stage, after the full number of the nations have entered the family.[16]
It cannot mean “every Jewish person who ever lived.” God isn’t a universalist (even at the sub-category level), and it would be absurd to suppose Caiphas will be walking the streets of glory.
Paul isn’t referring to a re-defined “Israel” consisting of all true believers (cp. Gal 3, 6:16; Rom 4). His focus here in Romans 9-11 is ethnic Jewish people.
He isn’t referring to all “true” ethnic Jewish people from all time, because Paul’s burden in Romans 9-11 is to explain what’s happening to the people of Israel right now in relation to His divine timetable.
But, through it all, it’s still the same Jesus, the same king, the same divine rescue mission. Two people groups merged into the same family, the same tree, partaking of the same “sap.” God has not pushed away the people of Israel—there is (a) the remnant which can meanwhile choose to pursue God by means of faith, and (b) the entire number of Jewish people who will embrace Jesus as Messiah after the full number of the nations have come in. The people of Israel “are loved on account of the patriarchs, for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable,” (Rom 11:28-29).
This three-stage rescue plan, culminating in God rescuing all the ethnic people of Israel then alive when Christ returns, is just what scripture foretold (“as it is written,” Rom 11:26). The prophet Isaiah tells us that one day the Lord looked about and saw the human situation was hopeless—that He Himself must enter the arena to set things right. “So his own arm achieved salvation for him, and his own righteousness sustained him,” (Isa 59:16). And so the Redeemer would one day come to Zion—“to those in Jacob who repent of their sins” (Isa 59:20). The covenant Yahweh swore to make with His people would take away their sins, because “My Spirit, who is on you, will not depart from you,” (Isa 59:21). The apostle quotes the former citation and paraphrases the latter as support for a future for the people of Israel (Rom 11:26b-27).
4. One God and father of all
Paul never again probed so far behind the divine curtain. The see-saw of God’s rescue plan—Israel, then the nations, then Israel again (Rom 11:12, 30-32)—overwhelms him. “How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!” (Rom 11:33).
Commentators have spilt gallons of ink and gigabytes of megapixels on interpreting this passage—especially Romans 11:25-26. What is clear is that the people of Israel have a future. It’s not a “blank cheque” future which encourages a laissez-faire life of spiritual fakery. Nor is it a “I’ll never get tickets to the show!” kind of defeatism that one has when trying to purchase Taylor Swift concert tickets. There will be more than a “lucky few” Israelites grafted back into God’s olive tree! It is a real future—(a) the remnant chosen by grace now, followed by (b) “all Israel” present here when Christ returns later.
Yes, God has unfinished business with Israel during the Millennium, but that is merely the last stop before journey’s end. The “Israel maximizers” make a mistake if they hop off the train here,[17] because there is yet one more stop to go. The train decommissions in Revelation 22, when there will be one family, one tree, “one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all,” (Eph 4:6). God will restore Eden, and the tree of life will be available to all “for the healing of the nations” (Rev 22:1-5).
Of course, Paul doesn’t discuss that here. But the people of Israel will be there … along with all the other nations who are blessed through Abraham (Gal 3:8) and have become His offspring.
[6] It goes too far to plead that “foreknow” here (προέγνω) means something like “to choose beforehand.” The word can bear that meaning (e.g. 1 Pet 1:20), but the more common use is just “to know beforehand or in advance” (BDAG, s.v., sense 1, p. 966) or to “foreknow” (LSJ, s.v., sense 3). Reformed exegetes who wish to carry water for unconditional single election will find fertile ground elsewhere in scripture, but Romans 11:2 is not the place to plant that flag.
[7] The 1833 New Hampshire Confession explains: “… regeneration consists in giving a holy disposition to the mind; that it is effected in a manner above our comprehension by the power of the Holy Spirit, in connection with divine truth, so as to secure our voluntary obedience to the gospel,” (Article VII).
“Now, I don’t want you all to be in the dark about this secret, brothers and sisters, so that you won’t think you’re wiser than you are. The secret is that a dullness of spirit has come upon some of the people of Israel until the full number of the nations have entered in. And so, that is how all Israel will be rescued …”
[16] “… Paul speaks of a future salvation of ethnic Israel near or at the return of Jesus Christ,” (Tom Schreiner, Romans, in BECNT, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2018), pp. 598ff). See also Douglas Moo, The Epistle to the Romans, in NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996), p. 723.
[17] Tom Schreiner rightly warns: “The purpose of this revelation is not to titillate the interest of the church or to satisfy their curiosity about future events. The mystery is disclosed so that the gentiles will not fall prey to pride …” (Romans, p. 595).
Plenty of people are zealous for God, but their zeal is based on bad information. They actually don’t know God at all. This is Israel’s problem.
In Romans 9 to 11, the apostle Paul segues from his theological musings about salvation to a question no Christian can ignore—what about Israel? He spends most of Romans 9 defending God from accusations of failure (9:6-13), unjustness and cruelty (9:14-18), and unfairness (9:19-21). God dispenses mercy and hardness of heart as He sees fit (Rom 9:14, 18). The clay has no right to object to the potter’s decision (Rom 9:20-21).
These matter-of-fact observations from behind the divine curtain seem rather cold. But, Paul then pivots to emphasize personal responsibility. He sums the matter up (“what then shall we say?” Rom 9:30) by placing blame on Israel. They’re chasing after the Mosaic law as the means of righteousness, but haven’t reached that goal. Why not? Because they’re chasing righteousness not by means of faith, but as if by means of works (Rom 9:32).[1]
It seems the problem is about where to find truth—has God given us His message? If so, where is it? Or has He left us to figure it out on our own?
Passionate but clueless (vv. 10:1-4)
The tragedy is that Paul bears witness that the people of Israel do have passion for God, but it’s based on wrong ideas, wrong information (Rom 10:2).[2] Where do we get the right ideas? The right information? We get it from (a) the scriptures, by means of (b) the illumination and application of the Holy Spirit, while (c) in community with God’s people. Paul will spend much of Romans 10 demonstrating that the people of Israel have all the information they need—they just ignored it.
Paul explains that, because the people of Israel don’t know the special righteousness which God offers and are trying to set up their own righteousness, they haven’t submitted themselves to this one-of-a-kind righteousness from God (Rom 10:3).[3] God offers His own righteousness as a gift (Rom 1:17).[4] Instead, the people of Israel do what many of us do—they want to bring their resumes to God, instead.
We know how resumes work. We see a job posting. We’re interested. We scan the desired and required qualifications. We then tailor our resumes to show how we meet these requirements. We submit the application and hope for the interview. The resume is our credential which says, “I’m qualified! Pick me!” This is what the people of Israel are doing—they’re trying to set up their own righteousness, rather than accepting the special righteousness which God offers. So, they don’t submit to God’s righteousness, which would mean shredding their resumes and accepting His righteousness as a gift.
The people of Israel are mistakenly using the law as a vehicle for salvation, but that isn’t its job. The law has no power to grant life (Gal 3:21).[5] Instead, the law was a protective guardian for us until Christ arrived. Now that He’s arrived, we’re no longer under the protective guardian’s authority (Gal 3:24-25).[6]
This makes the people of Israel’s failure so frustrating. Christ is the very purpose of the law. The law shows us ourselves as if in a mirror, telling us that we need a permanent solution to our moral brokenness. The law points beyond itself to the One who will fix us, and that One is Christ. Because He is the purpose of the law, Christ brings righteousness to all who believe (Rom 10:4).[7]
Righteousness by … what? (vv. 10:5-13)
But, the path the people of Israel have chosen is to pervert the Mosaic law from a regulatory guardrail into a vehicle for salvation. They support this falsehood by a misinterpretation of texts like Leviticus 18:5—an error Paul refers to as “righteousness by means of the law” (Rom 10:5; cp. Gal 3:12).[8]
This error is absurd, because Israel has the right information. There is no mystery. They’re without excuse. Long ago, when Moses preached to the people on the east bank of the Jordan River, he begged them to love God, to serve Him from their heart, to stay faithful. At the end of his sermon, Moses said: “Now, what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach,” (Deut 30:11). Why not? Because they already have what they need (cp. 2 Pet 1:3). They don’t need to go to heaven to find the answer. They don’t need to cross oceans to search for a magic solution from an exotic land. “No, the word [perhaps better as “message,” see NLT] is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it,” (Deut 30:14).
All they have to do is trust and obey. Paul quotes Moses’ words and parallels them to Christ (Rom 10:6-8). The people of Israel ought to know this. Paul takes Moses’ “mouth + heart” equation and applies it to the new covenant: “If you declare with your mouth, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved,” (Rom 10:9).
This is the way. Righteousness comes by means of faith, not works. Isaiah knew this—he said: “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame,” (Rom 10:11; quoting Isa 28:16 LXX).[9] The prophet Joel was on the same page: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved,” (Joel 2:32). It’s clear that the Old Covenant prophets didn’t believe righteousness came by means of works! Why, then, are the people of Israel so confused?
Talking to a wall (vv. 10:14-21)
A series of things must happen to tell people about God’s good news; (a) missionaries must be sent, (b) so people can hear, (c) so they can believe, (d) and then call out to Jesus for salvation (Rom 10:14-15). And yet, it’s clear that the people of Israel don’t believe, cannot hear the truth, and don’t want to understand.
Why not?
First, Paul writes, unbelief in Israel is nothing new. Even Isaiah asked, “Lord, who has believed our message?” (Rom 10:16, quoting Isa 53:1). So, to combat the disbelief which accompanies the Gospel, people need to actually hear, and that happens by means of the message about Christ (Rom 10:17).
So, have the people of Israel heard? Of course. Paul quotes a passage about how God reveals Himself even in creation itself—the voices of the heavens and the skies go out into all the earth as witnesses to His eternal power and divine nature (Rom 10:18, quoting Rom 19:4; cp. Rom 1:18). Paul seems to apply the concept to the Gospel, which is going out into all the world. It’s known—even notorious: “These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also …” (Acts 17:6, RSV).
They’ve heard, but have they understood? Paul drives a stake into that dodge, too. They do understand about God—they just reject Him. He quotes from Moses, who recounted Israel’s history of rebellion and stubbornness. Moses predicted that, one day, God would turn from Israel to focus His love and grace on outsiders. This would provoke envy and anger among the people of Israel (Rom 10:19, quoting Deut 32:21). Those who didn’t seek God or ask for Him will somehow find their way to Him (Rom 10:20, quoting Isa 65:1).[10] The outsiders will become insiders, and the so-called “insiders” will be revealed to be clueless (see esp. Lk 13:28-30).
And yet,[11] to the people of Israel he says: “All day long I have held out my hands to a disobedient and obstinate people,” (Rom 10:21, quoting Isa 65:2). God stands there, saying “Here am I, here am I,” (Isa 65:1).
Going the wrong way
The problem Paul pinpointed was this: plenty of people (like Israel) are zealous for God, but their zeal is based on bad information. And so, they don’t know God at all.
Why has this happened?
Paul cites the Old Covenant scriptures nine times. He proves there is no excuse for resume-ism—for establishing our own righteousness, our own credentials to present to God. He’s already given us His message, which we can know by means of (a) the scriptures, (b) illumination from the Holy Spirit, and (c) learning from the Christian community. There’s no need to search or wonder. The message is known. It’s available. It’s written down. It’s here.
There are no “required and desired” qualifications. There is only accepting God’s gift. He offers to give you His righteousness—His Son’s resume—because your resume won’t ever be good enough. There is only (a) trusting in Jesus’ rescue message in your heart, and (b) confessing publicly that Jesus is Lord and King, and then (c) you’ll be saved.
Israel hasn’t yet done that—they’re going the wrong way—and that’s why they aren’t saved. The same goes for everyone else who isn’t yet one of God’s adopted children. But, just like the prophet Joel says, “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
“But Israel, chasing after law as the means of righteousness, didn’t achieve that goal. Why not? Because they’re chasing righteousness not by means of faith, but as if by means of works.”
[2] Gk: μαρτυρῶ [LSJ, s.v., sense I.2; BDAG, s.v., sense 1] γὰρ αὐτοῖς [dat. ref.] ὅτι ζῆλον [dir. obj. ἔχουσιν] θεοῦ [obj. gen.] ἔχουσιν ἀλλʼ οὐ κατʼ [correspondence] ἐπίγνωσιν. “I’m bearing witness about them that they have passion for God, but it’s based on wrong ideas.”
“What I’m saying is that, because they don’t know the special righteousness which God offers and are trying to set up their own righteousness, they haven’t submitted themselves to this one-of-a-kind righteousness from God.”
[4] Gk: δικαιοσύνη γὰρ θεοῦ [gen. source] ἐν αὐτῷ ἀποκαλύπτεται ἐκ [means] πίστεως εἰς [purpose] πίστιν. “Because in the Gospel, righteousness from God has been revealed by means of faith so that people would believe.”
[5] Gk: εἰ γὰρ ἐδόθη νόμος ὁ δυνάμενος ζῳοποιῆσαι, ὄντως ἐκ νόμου ἂν ἦν⸄ ἡ δικαιοσύνη. “Because, if a law had been given [passive = given by God] that had the power [attributive participle, linked to “law”] to grant life, then certainly righteousness would have come by means of the law.”
[6] Gk: ὥστε ὁ νόμος παιδαγωγὸς ἡμῶν γέγονεν εἰς Χριστόν, ἵνα ἐκ πίστεως δικαιωθῶμεν·ἐλθούσης δὲ τῆς πίστεως οὐκέτι ὑπὸ παιδαγωγόν ἐσμεν. “This means [inferential conjunction] the law was a protective guardian [predicate nominative] until Christ arrived, so that [purpose clause] we would be declared righteous by means of faith. But, now that [temporal, adverbial participle] this faith [i.e., Jesus—anaphoric article] has come, we are no longer under the protective guardian’s authority.”
[7] Gk: τέλος [pred. nom; BDAG s.v., sense 3] γὰρ νόμου Χριστὸς [obj. gen.] εἰς [result] δικαιοσύνην παντὶ τῷ πιστεύοντι [indirect obj.]. “Christ is the purpose of the law (cp. Gal 3:24). As a result, He brings righteousness to all who believe.”
[9] Paul quotes from the LXX, which differs from the Hebrew. This is one of the passages that complicates a simplistic understanding of scriptural inerrancy.
[10] The context of Isaiah 65:1 supports that Israel is the nation that did not seek God, but Paul seems to re-purpose the verse for his own ends.
[11] The NIV’s “but” doesn’t seem quite right. Paul’s point is that, despite God’s pivot to the Gentiles en masse, He still holds out an invitation to Israel. So, something like “and yet” seems a better choice to render the conjunction here: πρὸς δὲ τὸν Ἰσραὴλ λέγει. But, to be sure, both options emphasize contrast.
Epiphany celebrates God revealing Himself to the Gentiles. The first people who worshiped the Christ-child as the king over the world were lowly shepherds outside Bethlehem. The second group were magi from the east, whom God deliberately led right to the very house where the child was. Why? So they could worship Him, too. They brought gifts. They fell down on their faces in homage. They worshiped. Then, they rejoiced and went home. That means something. It’s special.
The Old Covenant clearly explained that God intended His family to include more than ethnic Jewish people. However, for various reasons, by the time of Jesus’ birth a nasty “Jew v. Gentile” attitude had taken root in major corners of Jewish popular culture. We see this in Peter’s harsh words to Cornelius (Acts 10:26-27), in the Jerusalem church’s indignant interrogation of Peter (Acts 11:1-3), and in the incident which prompted the letter to the Galatians. This attitude was completely at odds with the care and deliberation God shows us in this passage, wherein God prepared, equipped, and led the magi out west for perhaps two years time until He’d brought them right to the very house where the newborn king lay with His mother and Joseph.
This sermon is about the “epiphany” God revealed to a community that had a difficult time accepting it. In different times and in sundry ways, churches have made the same mistakes. This passage teaches us to look out for our blind spots, because there is no caste system in God’s family.
Below is my translation of Matthew 2:1-12 from my Epiphany Sunday sermon, on 07 January 2024. The video of the sermon is below, along with the problem and solution I focused on from the text.
1-2: After Jesus was born in Bethlehem, which is in Judea, in the days of Herod the King—listen to what happened next!—wise men from the East arrived in Jerusalem. They were asking: “Where is the one who was born as King over the Jews? Because we saw His star in the East and we came to worship Him.”[1]
3-6: Now, when Herod the King heard about this, he was very uneasy–along with everyone else in Jerusalem. So, he gathered together all the chief priests and scribes from the Jewish people and was asking them: “Where is the Messiah going to be born?”
And they said to him: “In Bethlehem, in Judea, because that’s the way it was written by the prophets: ‘And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah–you are certainly not least among the rulers of Judah! Because from you a leader will emerge who will shepherd my people–Israel.’”[2]
7-8: Then Herod secretly summoned the wise men to learn from them exactly when the star appeared. He sent them to Bethlehem and said: “Go and search carefully for the child. When you find him, report back to me so that I too can come and worship him.”[3]
9-12: After they heard the king, they set out and–listen, now!–the star they saw in the east was going out ahead of them and came to rest above where the child was. When the wise men saw the star, they rejoiced with very great joy.
Then they came into the house and saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him, and they opened their strongboxes and offered him gifts–gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.
Because they were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they went back to their own country by another route.[4]
Here is my translation of Luke 2:6-18 from my sermon from Christmastide, this past Sunday. I never preach my own translations, but I use them for insight while I preach the text. My preaching text is the NIV. But, for what it’s worth, here is how I rendered this beautiful revelation of the first Christmas. It’s significant that God chose to make humble shepherds the very first evangelists!
6-7: And it happened, while they were in Bethlehem, the days for her to give birth were fulfilled. She gave birth to her son—her firstborn. She wrapped him in cloths and laid him in a feeding trough, because there was no room for them at the lodging place.[1]
8-9: Now, in the same area, there were shepherds living outdoors and keeping watch over their flock at night. Then, an angel from the Lord suddenly appeared to them, and the Lord’s glory shone on them, and they were terribly frightened.[2]
10-12: And the angel said to them: “Don’t be frightened! Listen! I’m bring good news to you—great, joyful news to all the people. Because today, in David’s city, a savior has been born for you who is Messiah—the Lord. This is how you all will know this is true: you’ll find the baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a feeding trough.”[3]
13-14: Then, all at once, there appeared with the angel a large crowd of the heavenly army praising God and saying: “Glory to God who is in the heavens above! And peace on earth to the people with whom He’s pleased!”[4]
15: And it came to pass, as the angels departed from them into heaven, the shepherds were saying to one another: “Let’s all go right now to Bethlehem and check out this thing that has just happened, which the Lord has revealed to us.”[5]
16-18: So, they went and hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the feeding trough. When they saw all this, they told everyone about the message which was told to them about that child. And everyone who heard was astonished at what was told to them by the shepherds.[6]
We sometimes see Jesus’ mission as just personal salvation—a golden ticket away from a sinking ship. Christmas then becomes a celebration about the ticket going on sale for those who want it. In Psalm 72, Solomon shows us a Christmas vision that includes personal salvation, but is so much bigger than that.
Solomon wrote this psalm.[1] Like many Old Testament texts about the king of Israel, it operates on two levels. First, Solomon writes a prayer for his own son, Rehoboam. That didn’t work out so well (see 1 Kgs 12; 2 Chr 10). But, on a deeper level, this is also a wish for what the real king of Israel should be like. We’ll focus on the second level in this article. The first verse captures Solomon’s plea, and the rest of the psalm is an elaboration on that wish.
Endow the king with your justice, O God, the royal son with your righteousness.
Psalm 72:1
Solomon wants the king to embody justice or right judgment—the insight to do the right thing. We like that quality. There’s a reason why politicians run as so-called “outsiders” who are “untainted” by the Washington swamp (etc., etc.). In his 1976 presidential campaign, Jimmy Carter famously pledged “I’ll never lie to you!” We like to believe in people who claim they’ll do “the right thing,” who claim to be “good people” in contrast to the “bad” folks now in power.
Of course, we all have different ideas of what the “right thing” is! So, Solomon asks God to endow His king “with your righteousness.” God’s king is all about God’s values, God’s righteousness. But, what are His values? We might be quick to answer in terms of “moral codes,” but Solomon never mentions those at all. We’ll return to this soon.
Now we see a series of prayers. When God’s people looked forward to a good king (“the royal son”), what did God teach them He’d be like?
May he judge your people in righteousness, your afflicted ones with justice.
Psalm 72:2
He’ll judge His people “in righteousness,” which means He judges the right way, all the time. He makes sure justice is done. No courts, no trials, no deliberations, no mistakes. The state of Oklahoma just released a man who served 48 years in prison for a murder he didn’t commit.[2] In contrast, the true king will judge God’s “afflicted ones with justice.”
Who are these “afflicted ones”? These are the “small people.” The hurting, the struggling, the people who are tired, at the end of themselves, without hope. This royal son—the king of the world to come—will vindicate everyone who is afflicted because of injustice (in any form). He’ll set things right—especially for the “forgotten people” of this world.
This is the first hint that Solomon’s vision of the king’s mission is bigger than individual salvation. He continues:
May the mountains bring prosperity to the people, the hills the fruit of righteousness.
Psalm 72:3
This isn’t a wish for some crude prosperity gospel, but a longing for a better time when the king fixes us and this world. The agricultural references are just a metaphor for “good times.” In 1984, President Ronald Reagan famously said it was “morning in America!”[3] Well, here Solomon says “it’ll be morning in paradise when the king is here!”
What will happen when the morning comes? What will this “new day” look like? Rather than well-meaning moralism, Solomon describes a much more comprehensive renovation:
May he defend the afflicted among the people and save the children of the needy; may he crush the oppressor.
Psalm 72:4
Eternity will not involve sitting on clouds in heaven. Instead, Solomon prays for a future in which the king does justice on a renovated earth. What would this world look like if:
The king defended the afflicted? If he was on the side of those who are hurting and have no advocate? No voice? No hope? No power? Nobody caring about them once they have their vote?
The king rescued (cp. LXX) the children of the poor? A local elementary school just contacted our church asking if we would help stock a food pantry of sorts it was organizing for kids who didn’t have enough food at home. One day this problem will be over.
The king crushed the oppressors? These are the folks who move the levers of power in oppressive, unholy directions—not just cartoon villains, but also the faceless drones who aid and abet unholy policies that have oppressive effects downstream. God will rip them down from their lofty perches! This was Mary’s prayer as an afflicted and hurting poor woman in a rural town—she wanted the Messiah to fix the injustice in this rotten world (Lk 1:52-55).
After prayers for this king’s reign to never end and to be like water to a parched land (Ps 72:5-7), Solomon shows us the breadth of this king’s reign:
May he rule from sea to sea and from the River to the ends of the earth.
Psalm 72:8
The realm will extend over the whole earth, “from sea to sea.” Solomon assembles the most exotic cast of characters his geographic frame of reference could conjure to stress this point. Nomads from the deserts, kings from Tarshish “and of distant shores,” and heads of state from Seba and Sheba (perhaps modern-day Yemen)—they will all come to Jerusalem to pledge allegiance to the true king. They’ll “lick the dust” and prostrate themselves before Him. They’ll bring tribute and presents. They’ll bow down and serve Him (Ps 72:9-11).
The New Testament writers often focus on salvation, on personal rescue from Satan (“save yourselves from this corrupt generation!” Acts 2:40). Solomon would surely agree, but in this psalm he takes a larger view. He doesn’t mention salvation at all. So, why will the nations come to the king? Why will people from exotic, faraway lands come to worship God’s royal son as the king of the world? What’s the hook? What’s the attraction? What’s the selling point?
The answer is surprising:
For he will deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help. He will take pity on the weak and the needy and save the needy from death. He will rescue them from oppression and violence, for precious is their blood in his sight.
Psalm 72:12-14
The nations will come to the king because (“for”) He rescues the weak, the needy, and the afflicted. These are likely the same people under cover of three names. They are the lowly, the poor in spirit (Mt 5:3). Not just the “lower classes,” but more “the hurting classes”—the struggling, the “little people,” the working class, the oppressed.
The nations will come because this king rescues. Because He has pity. It isn’t salvation at the barrel of a gun, or salvation by escape from this world. It’s a salvation whose draw, whose hook, whose attraction is pity for the hurting, and rescue for the oppressed. In short, a king who promises to fix us and this world. This includes personal salvation, but is also so much more than that.
Why will the king do this? Because our lives matter to Him (“for precious is their blood in his sight,” Ps 72:14). Because He cares about us. Because He wants to help us. Because He loves us—especially when we don’t love Him back.
Near the end of the psalm, Solomon exclaims “Long may he live! … May his name endure forever; may it continue as long as the sun,” (Ps 72:15, 17). He then writes this beautiful line:
Then all nations will be blessed through him, and they will call him blessed.
Psalm 72:17
This is an echo of God’s promise to Abraham and His special descendant, so long ago (Gen 12:3; cp. Gal 3:16). God swore that Abraham would somehow be the channel for God’s blessing to the whole world. But, who is it referring to here?
To Jesus.
Abraham is that channel to the world—through Jesus, His descendant (Mt 1:1; Gal 3:16). Christmas is indeed about individual salvation and rescue, but the Savior’s mission isn’t just to give us a ticket on a fast train to Georgia before this whole thing burns up. Solomon knew that. He knew that God’s true royal king would bless the nations of the world through the message He brought. A message about Himself, about rescue from prison, about liberation from Satan—the spiritual kidnapper.
When King Jesus rescues us, He gives us a place in the renovated world that’s coming. A world where justice will be done and things will be set right. Where the weak, the needy, and the afflicted will be defended, where the oppressed will see justice done, where the oppressors will be crushed and punished—all according to God’s definition of righteousness, not ours.
The third stanza of the song “O Holy Night!” reflects much of Solomon’s emphases:
Truly He taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace. Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother, And in His name all oppression shall cease. Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we; Let all within us praise His holy name. Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever! His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim! His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!
O Holy Night! (third stanza)
Brotherly love. The good news of peace on earth. Broken chains. Oppression vanquished. Songs of grateful praise. It’s beautiful. Surprisingly, the song was written in 1847 by an atheist Frenchman. He wrote it as a favor to a friend who was a local priest. He did his background research by studying the Gospel of Luke.
I wonder if the author ever fully appreciated the beautiful truths he wrote about so movingly. It’s the same story Solomon knew, and the same one that faithful Christians still celebrate today. Christmas is the story of a Savior who has come to rescue and renovate us and our world, so that justice can be done on earth, so we can be with Him forever. And the Christmas message is that anyone who turns to God, through Christ, will be rescued and given a place in His family, and in the better tomorrow that’s coming.
[1] Or, maybe not. The LXX subscription reads “To Solomon,” which leads some to speculate that David wrote the psalm for Solomon.
Well, I read 54 books this year. They tilt heavily towards biography and the doctrine of scripture. We shall see what 2024 brings. The books are listed in no particular order. Just because I read a book or have something nice to day about it does not mean I agree with everything in it!
This was a very good little book. It tells the story of how, at mid-century, the shared ethos of a generic, liberal Protestantism began to fail as an assumed ethos for ethics and public values. Marsden chronicles some efforts to grapple with the problem, and the reactions to these various solutions. In his final chapter, he advocates a “principled pluralism” largely following the outline of Abraham Kuyper’s “sphere sovereignty.” He calls for work to update Kuyper’s framework for the modern era.
This is the second time I’ve read this biography. It’s very good, long but not too long, and engaging. I highly recommend it. Oates’ volume was dogged with what appear to be baseless charges of plagiarism, which is unfortunate.
A classic. Henry has an interesting method for theology which relies heavily on logic and order. Even though he makes very good logical sense, his quest to make theology rationally credible does not do justice to the nature of biblical revelation. Bernard Ramm’s little trilogy (Special Revelation and the Word of God, The Witness of the Spirit, and The Pattern of Religious Authority) is a good antidote to Henry’s rationalism. See especially Gary Dorrien (The Remaking of Evangelical Theology) for an outsider’s assessment of Henry’s approach. I suspect that Henry’s God, Revelation, and Authority is more appreciated in a pro forma manner than actually read.
A very, very sobering book. Violent crime has in America has been halved since its apogee in 1991 to 1992. Yet, the public perception is that the streets are more dangerous than ever, that law enforcement is under siege. Officers ride around in dark vehicles with tinted windows. They dress like militarized infantry. Why? This book will provide some perspective.
Retrieved from the FBI Crime Data Explorer at http://tinyurl.com/et3b5m4k. Rate per 100,000 people, per year. Search parameters are for “all violent crimes” from 1985 to 2022.
In the same genre as Rise of the Warrior Cop, but focusing on police corruption in Oakland. Sobering and astonishing.
6. The Trump Tapes by Bob Woodward (11hrs 29 min; Simon & Schuster, 2022).
You won’t appreciate this unless you listen to the audiobook version, which is just recordings of Woodward’s 20 interviews with then-President Trump. This is perhaps the most damning series of interviews to which I’ve ever listened. From a strategic perspective, it seems the president made a mistake by giving Woodward such unfettered access. However, many of President Trump’s constituents likely do not read Woodward, so perhaps it wasn’t a mistake after all?
7. Peril by Bob Woodward and Robert Costa (512 pp.; Simon & Schuster, 2023).
The third book of Woodward’s Trump trilogy, chronicling the transition to the Biden administration with particular focus on the COVID-19 pandemic response. It’s as horrifying and important as the other two in the series.
8. Rage by Bob Woodward (580 pp.; Simon & Schuster, 2021).
The first of Woodward’s Trump trilogy. It details the Trump transition. It is frightening and paints the picture of Trump as monumentally unfit for any public office–let alone the White House.
This is a very curious book. It chronicles bits of the Mark Driscoll and Mars Hill Church saga with particular attention to the church’s propagation of a deviant strain of Christian sexuality (i.e. “biblical porn”); particularly how it leveraged its expectations in this area to produce volunteerism, commitment, and loyalty to its peculiar evangelical empire. The ground Johnson covers here overlaps in some areas with the ChristianityToday’s wildly popular “Rise and Fall of Mars Hill” podcast (Johnson published first!).
The peculiar aspect of this book is that it seems to see-saw between an engaging history and sudden esoteric discussions of sociological theory. It reads like two very different pieces melded somewhat awkwardly into one. The discussions of sociological affect seem pasted in with (in some instances) little to no transition. The jarring bit is that Johnson doesn’t really try to translate affect theory for non-specialists. Her academic peers in the same field surely appreciate her remarks along that line, but interested laypeople like me are a bit lost when she veers hard right into academic speak.
In summary, this is a very interesting and informative book that can’t decide whether it wants to be an academic treatise or a popular book for non-specialists. In contrast, it seems to me that Kristin Kobes DuMez faced a similar dilemma with Jesus and John Wayne and chose the popular route, and succeeded quite well. This doesn’t mean Johnson’s book is bad–far from it. I enjoyed it and was horrified at some of what I read. I just wish she’d had interested laypeople like me in mind when she wrote it.
I read about 20% of this book (pp. 385-510, 731-872) while conducting research for a book I wrote on inerrancy and the doctrine of scripture. It is amazing readable, moves fast, and is rightly a classic. I doubt anything like it will come along anytime soon. Mark Noll’s History of Christianity in the United States and Canada is a fraction of this length. Historian Thomas Kidd (Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary) has a book due out in the next year or so which covers some of the same ground, and I am looking forward to it.
A refreshing and very interesting book about bible translations in America, using the RSV translation’s public reception as a foil. It’s a bit out of date now, especially considering the TNIV gender-inclusive “controversy” from about 15 years ago, and the rise of the ESV.
This book is what it sounds like–a primer on postmodernism with some of Erickson’s trademark irenic analysis. This is a very helpful book that was part of the “postmodernism is new and weird and we’ll explain it for you” wave of books that conservative Christians put out around the year 2000. Sometimes theologians try to speak outside their lane, and it shows (e.g. Wayne Grudem’s Politics According to the Bible). This doesn’t happen here. Erickson is well-credentialed to respond to postmodernism; he holds an MA in Philosophy from the University of Chicago.
This was another book of which I read a portion (pp. 309-582) for research. It’s a very interesting and informative book about just what its title suggests.
This was a unique book, because it examined three different paradigms for understanding religion in the public square. Patterson did this by spotlighting three very different individuals; (a) the fiery Roman Catholic radio priest Fulton J. Sheen, (b) the black Baptist preacher Martin Luther King, Jr., and (c) that quintessential representative of white, Southern-style Baptist fundamentalism–Jerry Falwell, Sr.
This is sort of a spiritual sequel to Moore’s 2015 volume Onward! He wrote this book in the aftermath of his resignation from the Southern Baptist Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission and transition to editor-in-chief of Christianity Today. You could say that Moore landed on his feet!
This book is a word of testimony—testimony of what one fellow wayfarer has learned about how to survive when the evangel and the evangelicalism seem to be saying two different things. That requires naming what we have lost—our credibility, our authority, our identity, our integrity, our stability, and, in many cases, our sanity. This book will consider all the ways evangelical America has sought these things in the wrong way—and suggests that perhaps it’s by losing our “life” that we will find it again.
Moore, Losing Our Religion, pp. 21-22
The volume reads a bit like a cathartic exercise from a good man who was deeply hurt by some very unpleasant people who are part of a very unpleasant machine.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the plot twist to the story of American conservative Christianity was that what we thought was the Shire was Mordor all along. I pretend that all of that is past me, but it lingers, in the ringing in my ears of the stress-induced tinnitus that persists to this day, and in the fact that I am still waiting for one sleep without nightmares about the Southern Baptist Convention. But here I am, an accidental exile but an evangelical after all.
Moore, Losing Our Religion, p. 9
This volume fits into a new (post-Trump + 2016) genre that I like to call “white evangelicism sucks and this is why.” It’s not that Moore’s book is bad. It’s not–it’s actually quite good. It’s just that so many people have written (and are still writing) the very same book. They say the same things, in the same way. Of course, perhaps they all say the same things because they all see the same problems. Yes, got it. Understood. I am glad Moore escaped from Southern Baptist public life and I hope he recovers in a spiritually wholesome environment. Still, I’m tired of this genre.
16. Grantby Ron Chernow (1104 pp.; Penguin, 2018).
It’s a biography. It’s very good. Chernow fairly addresses the persistent myth that Grant was a drunken fool. This is probably the best Grant biography in print.
This is an interesting little book. I’m not sure it’s worth the hype its received. That isn’t to say its bad. It’s an interesting sketch of the influences that made Tim Keller the unique and gifted man that he was.
The first volume in Ramm’s trilogy of authority in the Christian life. Ramm places great emphasis on the Spirit being the channel by which God speaks to His people. A very good and very helpful book.
The second volume in Ramm’s trilogy. He and Carl Henry have very different approaches. He eschews Henry’s cold rationalism and emphasizes the Spirit’s dynamic and dialogical role in the Christian life. Ramm was heavily influenced by Calvin’s own treatment on the Spirit, and it shows. I really appreciate Ramm. He is the kind of theologian I want to be when I grow up!
The final volume in Ramm’s trilogy. In an era before the Chicago Statement (1978) set the guardrails for the debate for a new generation, Ramm took a mediating position that was still in the conservative orbit. In the modern era, the Chicago Statement is a non-negotiable article of faith for conservative institutions and many churches. Ramm would not have fit easily into that mold.
Pinnock’s plea for a conservative alternative to the Chicago Statement. Well-reasoned and irenic, but firm. Modern evangelicals who assume “orthodoxy = the Chicago way or the highway” ought to read Pinnock. They might be pleasantly surprised. I cannot speak to the two revised editions of the book which Pinnock put out with a co-author. I recommend only the original, 1984 edition.
Whenever you mention this book to conservative theologians, they will likely respond within 10 seconds with “but, did you read Woodbridge’s reply?” That tells you that Rogers/McKim stuck a nerve. This is an extraordinary work that surveys the historical data about how Christians have understood the nature of scripture. The issue of Chicago-style inerrancy lurks in the background as Rogers/McKim’s rhetorical foe–they conclude that the Chicago Statement is not the historical position of the church. I cannot agree with everything in the book, and Woodbridge gleefully documented reams of purported errors–I leave the reader to evaluate whether his criticisms are valid. Still, a must-read.
Clarke is the poster-child for gentle, kind, 19th century Baptist liberalism. His doctrine of scripture disgraces God, but he is so kind and grandfatherly that you almost like the guy.
An important volume on an important topic. Dispensationalism has fallen on hard times. It has little to no scholarly influence, has no reliable academic press, has very few scholars publishing anything to advance the system, has produced precious few technical commentaries, and few substantive mid-level (e.g. NAC, Tyndale, or EBC level) commentaries. In that sense, it has indeed “fallen” from great heights. This book provides one explanation about why and how.
A tour-de-force survey of evangelical theology from a liberal outsider. This is one of the best books I read in 2023. His survey of theological perspectives is fair and irenic, and his footnotes will take you to valuable works from conservatives.
Beegle’s book is another entry from the 1970s to 1980s genre which I’ll call “the Chicago Statement is wrong!” Some of his critiques of Chicago-style inerrancy are interesting, but on the whole Beegle goes off the reservation here. If you want a conservative alternative to the Chicago Statement, see Pinnock and not Beegle. F.F. Bruce wrote an endorsement!
This is an edited volume containing lengthy excerpts from four “old Princeton” theologians on scripture, science, and theological method. Noll provides brief introductions but largely lets the authors speak for themselves. An invaluable book. Warfield and A.A. Hodge are excellent on scripture–much better than R.C. Sproul, who drafted the original 1978 Chicago Statement and somehow misunderstood the “original autograph” issue along the way–compare the Chicago Statement to Warfield’s “The Inerrancy of the Original Autographs” (1883) and you’ll see what I mean.
This is mostly inside baseball stuff for academia, but it has some interesting insights. It explores how to reconcile faith and critical inquiry. It’s a logical sequel to the Princeton volume or Noll’s The Bible in America book.
34. The Fifth Riskby Michael Lewis (256 pp.; Norton, 2019).
A forgettable little book about how President Trump’s administration was allegedly so inept and how everything may crumble to bits at any moment. Not worth buying. Glad I checked it out from the library. It repeats the same theme in every chapter; (a) Lewis introduces the noble civil servant, then (b) in come the stupid Trump officials in 2017, then (c) the dumb Trumpian appointees threaten to ruin everything, then (d) Lewis lets the noble bureaucrat explain how dangerous the Trump appointees are, then (e) the next chapter repeats in a different government sector. Very tiresome and a bit condescending.
Reid’s emphasis on common sense, on what every rational person can know by his innate faculties, is very good. Philosophers today seem to be scornful of commonsense realism, so this makes me wary. But, Reid just makes sense. I suppose one main hurdle is that Reid makes sense in a world in which one is willing to acknowledge that God has created us and given us logical faculties for reason. We don’t live in that world any longer, so I suspect that disconnect is driving some of the disagreement.
An extraordinary series of essays from world-class historians. Not sure why it’s out of print!
38. Wilsonby A. Scott Berg (880 pp.; Penguin, 2014).
A magisterial biography of a very interesting man. It made me very sad to read of Wilson’s incapacitation shortly after his second term began. I wonder what he could have accomplished if he’d retained his physical powers.
The best book I read in 2023. Hoover was a true genius. His story is inspiring beyond words. He came from nothing, made a career as a brilliant mining engineer, then a financier of sorts in the mining world, then saved untold millions from starvation as head of a humanitarian agency (what would now be an NGO) during and after the first world war. Secretary of Commerce. Elected President. If there was any single individual in American history who could have been up to the task of combating the series of crises that we now refer to as the Great Depression, it would have been Hoover. And yet, he couldn’t get it done.
Whyte works hard to bring perspective to Hoover’s reactions to the financial crises. He argues that Hoover responded as well as could be expected, that Franklin Roosevelt cribbed several of his policies and ideas (even the infamous “nothing to fear but fear itself” line), and that the depression was on the road to recovery when Roosevelt assumed office–but that the latter refused to coordinate policy with Hoover and went his own way. Whyte notes that the depression continued until the second world war, that Roosevelt did not “solve” the depression, and that Hoover was understandably bitter about the treatment he received. Roosevelt was undeniably a superior politician, and Hoover was dealt a bad hand … not unlike Jimmy Carter nearly 50 years later.
I plan to read another Hoover biography in 2024. This man deserved better. He truly was an extraordinary man in extraordinary times.
Anything you want to know about Watergate? You’ll find it here. This is the most up-to-date, exhaustive account of the scandal in print. An outstanding book.
Nobody would confuse Perlstein with an objective historian. This is an entertaining, exhaustively researched work of cultural history with a sarcastic tone. That isn’t to say it isn’t valuable. His quartet of books chronicling the rise of the political right from Goldwater to Reagan is essential reading, and extraordinarily entertaining.
Hoover published this little book while he was Secretary of Commerce. He outlines what he sees as a peculiarly American kind of individualism–a characteristic which sets America apart:
Therefore, it is not the individualism of other countries for which I would speak, but the individualism of America. Our individualism differs from all others because it embraces these great ideals: that while we build our society upon the attainment of the individual, we shall safeguard to every individual an equality of opportunity to take that position in the community to which his intelligence, character, ability, and ambition entitle him; that we keep the social solution free from frozen strata of classes; that we shall stimulate effort of each individual to achievement; that through an enlarging sense of responsibility and understanding we shall assist him to this attainment; while he in turn must stand up to the emery wheel of competition.
Hoover, American Individualism, pp. 9-10. Emphasis added.
Hoover believed we must make our own way; that we must be guaranteed equality of opportunity but not equality of outcome. The grand object of government is to (a) foster equality of opportunity without (b) throttling individual initiative:
To curb the forces in business which would destroy equality of opportunity and yet to maintain the initiative and creative faculties of our people are the twin objects we must attain. To preserve the former we must regulate that type of activity that would dominate. To preserve the latter, the Government must keep out of production and distribution of commodities and services. This is the deadline between our system and socialism. Regulation to prevent domination and unfair practices, yet preserving rightful initiative, are in keeping with our social foundations. Nationalization of industry or business is their negation.
Hoover, American Individualism, pp. 54-55
One can see glimmerings of the modern GOP here. This is a very interesting book. Well worth reading and pondering. Needless to say, Hoover despised Roosevelt’s New Deal.
A good biography. It seems to lose steam once it hits Eisenhower’s presidency. And, yes–Eisenhower surely had an affair with Kay Summersby. Smith suggests that Eisenhower planned to divorce Mamie and marry Kay, but his plan was thwarted. Like a good general facing hard realities, Eisenhower then sent Kay a “Dear John” letter that is astonishingly cruel and heartless. He cut her loose like a used Kleenex. Eisenhower comes across as an amazing politician and a great leader, but a poor general. That is fair, I believe.
45. Trumanby David McCullough (1120 pp.; Simon & Schuster, 1992).
This book made me love Truman. It has earned its reputation. I even bought a “The Buck Stops Here!” desk sign replica from the National Archives. I will display it on my desk at work.
A great biography of an interesting guy. Reagan was a good man, a kind man, a decent man. He also seemed to be shallow and a bit of an empty suit.
47. Our Faith by Emil Brunner, trans. John Rilling (153 pp.; Scribners n.d.).
I love these little “this is what the Christian faith is about” books that theologians sometimes write. This is a great book.
48. The Soul of Prayerby P.T. Forsyth (109 pp.; Regent College (reprint), 2002).
A classic on prayer. Probably the most quotable book I’ve ever read.
49. Faith and Justificationby G.C. Berkouwer, trans. Lewis Smedes (201 pp.; Eerdmans, 1954).
A great book on justification. It’s refreshing to read something plain and scriptural on this essential topic from the era before the new perspective on Paul clouded everything.
I don’t believe the “great” Carter biography has yet been written. This book more describes than explains. I don’t know why Carter is such an inflexible moralist. I don’t know why he’s a theological liberal. I don’t know why he wanted to go into politics. I don’t know much about his relationship with his kids. I don’t know how this inflexible man managed to build a coterie of professionals around him who took him to the Georgia governor’s mansion and eventually to the Presidency. I don’t know why he was such a bad and seemingly clueless politician (he famously didn’t try to remain friends with the Democratic Party). I know all these things happened, but I don’t know why. Still, Alter’s biography is informative. It’s probably the best one available to date.
Briggs wrote this book in great frustration. He had been hounded for years by conservatives within his Presbyterian denomination over his doctrine of scripture and inerrancy. He believed the Princeton school was erecting bulwarks that were impossible to hold. He disagreed vehemently with that perspective’s reading of the historical record and believed inerrancy was a recent invention by pious men who were reacting against realities they did not want to acknowledge. It deserves to be read, regardless of whether one agrees with Briggs.
Another wise and sensible book on the doctrine of scripture from a Scottish evangelical. Conservatives who follow the Chicago-style of inerrancy generally do not like Orr’s volume. I think it has some very good material.
We continue our discussion of the relationship between the church and the state (see the series here). The previous article in this series introduced the topic of church v. state. We discussed two critical paradigm shifts with which any American Christian audience must reckon (a task in which it sometimes fails). We presented three general operating environments in which the church often operates—their boosters often see these frameworks as the preferred, ideal paradigm. I then offered a precis of the five principles which should inform any discussion of the “church v. state” problem. Now, in this piece, we’ll examine the first and most basic principle for considering this issue. Here it is …
There are two kingdoms; Babylon and Jerusalem. Babylon will lose.
The Apostle John paints a picture of two competing kingdoms—Babylon and Jerusalem (Rev 17-18). This contrast is the story of history and reality. We’ll sketch each kingdom, in turn.
1. Babylon is Satan’s kingdom, symbolized as a charming seductress.
John’s picture fades in on a pretty woman sitting atop a beast.
The woman was dressed in purple and scarlet, and was glittering with gold, precious stones and pearls. She held a golden cup in her hand, filled with abominable things and the filth of her adulteries.
Revelation 17:4
John tells us the woman’s name is “Babylon the great,” that she is a prostitute, and the mother of all the abominations of the earth (Rev 17:5). This woman is a figure for the beguiling ways Satan tempts us to follow him.
For all the nations have drunk the maddening wine of her adulteries. The kings of the earth committed adultery with her, and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her excessive luxuries.
Revelation 18:3
Babylon, personified as an attractive call girl, offers “wine” to the masses resulting in “adulteries,” which God often uses as a metaphor for spiritual rebellion (e.g. Hosea 1-3). The nations lust after her, buying her services, committing “adultery.” The merchants trade with her, less interested in her physical charms than in the money they can make in trade. Like the sinister villain in Stephen King’s Needful Things, Babylon offers up whatever we desire with the aim of keeping us in her embrace. She buys us all, each in our own way. “By your magic spells all the nations were led astray,” (Rev 18:23).
This passage ends with Babylon’s destruction, her ruins aflame (“the smoke from her goes up for ever and ever,” Rev 19:3). The merchants, the heads of state, and all those involved in the economic system which abets this “trade” will cry aloud in shock when they behold the end of everything they know (Rev 18:4-20)—the “kingdom” which shaped their reality has fallen.
In the bible’s storyline Babylon is, of course, the empire which conquered Judah, destroyed the first temple, and carried the flower of the southern kingdom off into exile. Beyond the purely historical reference to that specific calamity, scripture later takes “Babylon” and uses it to personify evil and all that opposes God—it’s a figure, a metaphor, a representation. The prophet Isaiah speaks darkly about the king of Babylon, yet his words seem to shade over to a deeper meaning—perhaps referring to Satan himself (Isa 14:3ff). Zechariah speaks of an angel crushing into a basket a woman who represents sin and sending her far away to the east … where Babylon lies (Zech 5).
Now, in Revelation 17-18, God has poured out all His judgments, “Babylon” has fallen, and now Jesus returns to the world He left behind on that day so long-ago outside Jerusalem (Acts 1; Rev 19). In this passage, Babylon is Satan’s kingdom; and the system, culture, world, and values that oppose God have finally crumbled to bits—destroyed from on high with sudden violence (Rev 18:21).
When Jesus returns with “the armies of heaven” (Rev 19:14), He quickly destroys the beast, the false prophet, and the entire army which they mustered. This is a cosmic clash of two opposing forces—darkness v. light. Each character is the opposite of the other on the divine playbill:
Antichrist is Satan’s delegate → Jesus is the Father’s delegate.
Antichrist has an army → Jesus has an army.
Antichrist loses → Jesus wins.
After the millennium, God releases Satan, who tries to salvage what he can from the wreckage—a Battle of the Bulge-like gamble, a last roll of the dice (Rev 20:7-10). Now the struggle isn’t between the delegates, but between the supreme players themselves—it’s God who immolates Satan from on high with a divine fireball (Rev 20:9-10).
The evil empire falls in Revelation 17-18. The coup leaders are each cast into the lake of fire (Rev 19:20; 20:10). God has meted out rewards to the righteous, and judgment to the wicked (Rev 20:4-6, 11-15). Now that God has swept the debris of Satan’s coup away, God brings about His own kingdom (Rev 21-22). Creation is remade, sin is destroyed, and God finally has the community He’s been working to re-create since our first parents made their fateful choice. “Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them,” (Rev 21:3)—Emmanuel, indeed (cf. Isa 7:14; Mt 1:23)!
2. Jerusalem is God’s kingdom, fighting with Babylon over the same ground.
Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the weeds tells us about His kingdom in a powerful way. He explained:
The kingdom of heaven is like a man who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, his enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and went away. When the wheat sprouted and formed heads, then the weeds also appeared.
Matthew 13:24-26
Jesus wants to talk about the kingdom and this parable is an allegory[1] to explain all about it. This is one of the few parables where Jesus identifies the true referent for every character in the story; you have (1) a farmer, (2) an enemy, (3) a wheat crop, and (4) a bunch of weeds. The setup is simple; a farmer sows seed but it turns out bad!
That is terrible. Something’s gotta be done …
The owner’s servants came to him and said, “Sir, didn’t you sow good seed in your field? Where then did the weeds come from?”
“An enemy did this,” he replied.
The servants asked him, “Do you want us to go and pull them up?”
Matthew 13:27-28
The field was supposed to be one thing, but now it’s a hot mess. The servants think they should go clean it up—why not go and rip out the weeds? What does Jesus think?
“No,” he answered, “because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest. At that time I will tell the harvesters: First collect the weeds and tie them in bundles to be burned; then gather the wheat and bring it into my barn.”
Matthew 13:29-30
Jesus says no. He says the field will never be cleansed until the harvest—Jesus will give orders to sort it all out then. But, for now, just leave it alone—let the weeds and the wheat all grow up together. If they try to pick out the weeds now, they’ll probably just rip out a whole bunch of wheat. Better to leave it.
In Matthew’s gospel, the writer then inserts a few other parables about the kingdom, but circles back to Jesus’ explanation of our story. This is an intriguing story, so much so that the disciples wanted to hear Jesus explain it once they had a chance to speak to Him alone (Mt 13:36).
He answered, “The one who sowed the good seed is the Son of Man. The field is the world, and the good seed stands for the people of the kingdom. The weeds are the people of the evil one, and the enemy who sows them is the devil. The harvest is the end of the age, and the harvesters are angels.”
Matthew 13:37-39
Jesus has now explained all the referents:
kingdom of heaven
→
this scenario of events
farmer
→
Son of Man = Jesus
field
→
world
good seed ≈ wheat
→
people of kingdom
weeds
→
people of evil one
stealthy enemy
→
devil
Pay particular attention to the field—what is it? Jesus says it’s the world, and this “field” boasts two crops which are growing side by side—the “people of the kingdom” and “people of the evil one.” This battlespace is simple—two opposing kingdoms, each with its own commanding officer, each with its own followers, inhabiting the same territory. This war will resolve when the “harvesters” arrive, whom Jesus identifies as angels.
He explains:
As the weeds are pulled up and burned in the fire, so it will be at the end of the age. The Son of Man will send out his angels, and they will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil. They will throw them into the blazing furnace, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Whoever has ears, let them hear.
Matthew 13:36-43
This “field” that is our world will remain a mess until “the end of the age.” The harvesters will fix the field when Jesus sends them. But notice that Jesus now calls the “field” the “kingdom”—He says the angels “will weed out of his kingdom everything that causes sin and all who do evil.” The field is both the world and the kingdom. This suggests Jesus sees the world—this present battlespace—as transitioning into His kingdom at the decisive moment in the future when He intervenes. It’s as if “this world” is the territory at issue throughout history, and Jesus views it as already His, and judgment is (in part) Him sweeping evil out of His lands forever.
“Then,” He promises, “the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.” Why? Because the “weeds” will be gone, and the “wheat” will finally be free to flourish in the field (i.e., “the kingdom of their Father”) without an invasive species choking them.
Jesus’ kingdom is here, right now. It’s in this world in the form of a dispersed community in exile (see no. 3-4, below) in a hostile land.[2] This situation will remain that way until the end of the age (cf. the parable of the net at Mt 13:47-50)—it’s why Jesus said this whole parable, the entire state of affairs it sketched, “is like” the kingdom of heaven. As one early Christian discipleship manual said, “There are two ways, one of life and one of death, and there is a great difference between the two ways.”[3]
3. The world as the battlespace for the two kingdoms at war
This is a sketch of the battlespace we’ve occupied from the Fall to the present. This is the foundation for considering the vexing issue of church v. state. There is a kingdom of darkness called Babylon. There is also a kingdom belonging to God which the Apostle Paul refers to as “the Jerusalem that is above” (Gal 4:26; cf. Rev 21:2). These two kingdoms are the cultures, values, and societies corresponding to two quite different masters—Satan and God. Viewed the right way, we can frame the big picture of history as the story of these two kingdoms in supernatural conflict.
Babylon will lose. Jerusalem will win, and then (and only then) …
… with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth; with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked. Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash around his waist.
Isaiah 11:4-5
From this fountainhead, other principles logically follow. We’ll turn to these in the next articles.
[1] “A story, picture, etc., which uses symbols to convey a hidden or ulterior meaning, typically a moral or political one; a symbolic representation; an extended or continued metaphor,” (s.v. “allegory,” noun, no. 2, OED Online. March 2023. Oxford University Press. https://www.oed.com/view/Entry/5230?rskey=ts99zo&result=1&isAdvanced=false (accessed May 05, 2023)).
[2] For an argument for the “already, but not yet” aspect of the kingdom, see Herman Ridderbos, The Coming of the Kingdom, trans. H. de Jongste (Phillipsburg: P&R, 1962), esp. §IV. Many Americans often turn to George Ladd when they think of “already, but not yet,” but Ridderbos published first.
For dispensationalist rejoinders to the idea of kingdom being present now, see esp. (1) Chafer, Systematic, pp. 5:333-358; 7:223-224, and (2) Alva McClain, The Greatness of the Kingdom: An Inductive Study of the Kingdom of God (reprint; Winona Lake: BMH, 2009).
[3] “Didache”1.1, in The Apostolic Fathers in English, trans. Rick Brannan (Bellingham: Lexham, 2012).
The Eccentric Fundamentalist 