Book Review: “The Evangelicals” by Frances Fitzgerald

Frances Fitzgerald is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist with a B.A. in Middle Eastern history. She has written numerous books. In 2018, she published The Evangelicals: The Struggle to Shape America (730 pgs). This book is particularly interesting for several reasons. First, Fitzgerald is a responsible journalist and historian. Second, she does not appear to be an evangelical insider, which means she may have a more objective viewpoint. Third, the issue of the “Christian right” has become very, very relevant since Donald Trump’s election as President of the United States in 2016.

So, I picked the book up at my local library. Fitzgerald explains:1

this book is not a taxonomy or attempt to describe the entirety of evangelical life, but rather a history of the white evangelical movements necessary to understand the Christian right and its evangelical opponents that have emerged in recent years.

Fitzgerald begins with the first Great Awakening and moves rapidly through the American religious scene until arriving at Jerry Falwell and the Moral Majority by page 291. The remainder of the book (340 pages of text) chronicles the Christian Right over the past 40 years.

Rather than offering a blow by blow account of the work, I’ll confine myself to some brief remarks.

Comments on the book

Fitzgerald’s survey from the Great Awakening to the mid-20th century is outstanding. Very helpful, relatively brief, but comprehensive.

It appears Fitzgerald relied heavily on secondary sources. Time and time again, I turned to the endnotes to trace a particular quote or fact, and saw a secondary source cited. For example, Fitzgerald even cited a secondary source when describing Calvinism (pg. 15)! Likewise, when I looked for primary sources for quotations from Billy Graham’s publications I found in her text, I also saw secondary sources. This is very disappointing. Fitzgerald knows better.

I found a few misspellings in the earlier part of the book. Fitzgerald also, for some bizarre reason, consistently misnamed the Southern Baptist Convention’s publisher as “Boardman & Holman” (it’s actually “Broadman and Holman”).

The chronicle of the modern Christian Right is encyclopedic. In fact, it’s rather overwhelming. Some readers might be fascinated with moment by moment accounts of James Dobson’s advocacy efforts in the 2004 election. I am not! Fitzgerald would likely have done better to survey the era with a lighter touch and save room for analysis. Robert Jones, in his The End of White Christian America, covered the same ground in a little over 30 pages.

Indeed, the book is very light on analysis. Fitzgerald has a meager 11-page epilogue where she tries to pull some threads together. Some of this analysis is very insightful. For example:2

The Christian right was an equally forceful reaction, not against liberal theology, but rather against the social revolution of the 1960s. Its dominant theme was nostalgia for some previous time in history – some quasi-mythological past – in which America was a (white) Christian nation. But which time exactly? Would its leaders have been content with reversing the Supreme Court decisions made since the 1960s? Or would they have insisted that America must be by law a Christian nation? Naturally there were differences among them, but by failing to specify how far they would go to reverse the process of separating church from state, men like Pat Robertson and James Dobson allowed their opponents to charge that they wanted a theocracy.

And this:3

In the 1990s the Christian right was a powerful movement, but mainly because of those who had lived through the Long Sixties. Later generations had absorbed some of the shocks of the women’s movement and the gay rights movement, and were less fearful and angry about them. After the turn of the century, the Christian right maintained its power largely because of the further shock of same-sex marriage. In other words, the decline of the Christian right began earlier than assumed. Then, by allying themselves with the unfortunate George W. Bush, they created a backlash among evangelicals as well as among others. Emboldened, the ‘new’ evangelicals broadened the agenda, and in a sense came full circle with a return to the reformist imperatives of the antebellum evangelicals, such as Lyman Beecher and Charles Finney. The Christian right tried to resist, but the younger generation was not with them except on abortion. the death or retirement of the older leaders was a sign of the changing regime

And this:4

Presidential election votes might seem to belie it, but evangelicals were splintering. For more than thirty years Christian right leaders had held evangelicals together in the dream of restoration and in voting for the Republican establishment and policies that favored the rich in exchange for opposition to abortion and gay rights. No more. Evangelicals no longer followed their leaders.

Fitzgerald would have immeasurably strengthened her book if she had gone lighter on the encyclopedic history, and heavier on the analysis. In that respect, she made the same error Larry Oats made in his otherwise outstanding The Church of the Fundamentalists. Lots of details, facts, names and dates. Little analysis to pull things together. The book just … ends.

The most enlightening chapter, for me, was entitled “Billy Graham and Modern Evangelicalism,” particularly Fitzgerald’s discussion of President Eisenhower’s attempts to use civil religion as a unifying force in the face of the Communist threat. I’d never heard this before. I wonder how much of the simplistic ‘Merica! rhetoric you see so much of in some evangelical circles stems from Eisenhower’s efforts?

Fitzgerald succeeded in deepening my disgust with the Christian Right as a political movement. I do not believe America is or was a “Christian nation,” though it was undoubtedly influenced by Christian thought (see Christian historian John Fea’s excellent Was America Founded as a Christian Nation?). I vehemently disagree with all flavors of American nationalism mixed with the church. I think Falwell, Dobson (et al) are kind, decent men who wasted their talents in the political realm.

The more I read about the history of Christian Right’s engagement in the public square, the better context I have to frame my heretofore unfocused distaste for political action in the name of Christ. Here, two mainline scholars have something to teach us:5

Whenever Christians think that we can support our ethic by simply pressuring Congress to pass laws or to spend tax money, we fail to do justice to the radically communal quality of Christian ethics. In fact, much of what passes for Christian social concern today, of the left or of the right, is the social concern of a church that seems to have despaired of being the church. Unable through our preaching, baptism, and witness to form a visible community of faith, we content ourselves with ersatz Christian ethical activity—lobbying Congress to support progressive strategies, asking the culture at large to be a little less racist, a little less promiscuous, a little less violent.

Falwell’s Moral Majority is little different from any mainline Protestant church that opposes him. Both groups imply that one can practice Christian ethics without being in the Christian community. Both begin with the Constantinian assumption that there is no way for the gospel to be present in our world without asking the world to support our convictions through its own social and political institutionalization. The result is the gospel transformed into civil religion.

Hauerwas and Willimon wrote their book nearly 30 years ago and explained it “could be read as an extended reflection on politics in the name of Jesus.”6 Falwell looms large in their discussion, and the book seems (in part) to be a reaction against the political activism of the Reagan years. Writing only three years ago, Robert Jones interpreted Resident Aliens (and Russell Moore’s own work Onward) as a recognition by Christians that they’d lost the culture and must re-frame expectations from “this is our world” to “we’re a people in exile.” Indeed, Jones likened Hauerwas to a “hospice chaplain, dispensing a critical palliative care theology for a mainline Protestant family struggling toward acceptance as WCA [white Christian America] faded from the scene.”7 My own thoughts are that Hauerwas and Willimon can teach evangelicals a thing or two about cultural engagement. Their vision of the church is deeper than a good deal of what I’ve read from the evangelical-fundamentalist tradition. It’s certainly a healthier alternative than the Falwell-Dobson-Robertson model.  

Fitzgerald views the “Conservative Resurgence” in the Southern Baptist Convention as a “fundamentalist uprising” (see ch. 9). This will irritate my fundamentalist brothers and sisters who still insist on applying the old, tired appellation of “neo-evangelical” to the conservative evangelicals. Nevertheless, Fitzgerald is correct. John MacArthur, Al Mohler, Mark Dever, James White, Ligonier Ministries (et al) are fundamentalists. They might not identify themselves as such, but they are. Baptist fundamentalism, in contrast, is a small and struggling movement that hasn’t deserved the title of “fundamentalist” for a long while. The conservative evangelicals are the ones who engage the culture and confront apostasy, and Fitzgerald rightly recognizes them as “fundamentalists.”

Final thoughts

Fitzgerald wrote an outstanding book. I give it 4/5 stars. Essential reading for any evangelical pastors who want to understand where their movement came from and where it’s going. We need to know history. It helps us not make the same mistakes every generation. Read it!

Notes

1 Frances Fitzgerald, The Evangelicals: The Struggle to Shape America (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2017), 3.

2 Ibid, 626.

3 Ibid.

4 Ibid, 635.

5 Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon, Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony, revised ed. (Nashville: Abingdon, 2014), 80-81.

6 Ibid, 7.

7 Robert P. Jones, The End of White Christian America (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2016), 214.

Book Review – Evangelism and the Sovereignty of God

packer2J.I Packer’s little book Evangelism and the Sovereignty of God is a great resource. His aim is to show that divine sovereignty and personal responsibility to repent and believe the Gospel are not mutually exclusive. He explained, “The supposition seems to be that you cannot evangelize effectively unless you are prepared to pretend while you are doing it that the doctrine of sovereignty is not true. I shall try to make it evident that this is nonsense,” (10).

This book is only four chapters long, but it’s probably the best resource you can give a Christian who wants to know more about this topic. Many readers know Packer has a thoroughly Reformed soteriology, and this is clear throughout the book. However, he takes a very irenic tone and isn’t interested in flying a particular theological standard. This approach makes this an excellent gift to Christians of all theological flavors.

Chapter One – Divine Sovereignty

He begins by discussing divine sovereignty. If you’re a Christian, Packer says, you believe God is completely sovereign, no matter what soteriological camp you belong to. You know God is sovereign, because you pray. Simple. You’re acknowledging you’re helpless, and God alone can help and comfort you. “The very act that a Christian prays is thus proof positive that he believes in the Lordship of His God,” (12).

Every Christian also knows God is sovereign in salvation. No believer would ever credit himself with his own salvation. “Thus, in the way that you think of your conversion and give thanks for your conversion, you acknowledge the sovereignty of divine grace,” (13). And, every Christian also prays for the salvation of others. This is yet another acknowledgement of God’s sovereignty (14-15).

So, why the perennial disagreement over God’s sovereignty? Packer explains that “all Christians believe in divine sovereignty, but some are not aware that they do, and mistakenly imagine and insist that they reject it,” (16).

What causes this odd state of affairs? The root cause is the same as in most cases of error in the Church – the intruding of rationalistic speculations, the passion for systematic consistency, a reluctance to recognize the existence of mystery and to let God be wiser than men, and a consequent subjecting of Scripture to the supposed demands of human logic …

They are not content to let the two truths live side by side, as they do in the Scriptures, but jump to the conclusion that, in order to uphold the biblical truth of human responsibility, they are bound to reject the equally biblically and equally true doctrine of divine sovereignty, and to explain away the great number of texts that teach it. The desire to oversimplify the Bible by cutting out the mysteries is natural to our perverse minds, and it is not surprising that even good men should fall victim to it. Hence this persistent and troublesome dispute,” (16-17).

Chapter Two – Divine Sovereignty and Human Responsibility

These two truths appear to be contradictory, but they aren’t. We’ll never figure out a way to untangle this knot, so we ought to “[a]ccept it for what it is, and learn to live with it,” (21). Both are true, and they complement each other. “The Creator has told us that He is both a sovereign Lord and a righteous Judge, and that should be enough for us. Why do we hesitate to take His word for it? Can we not trust what He says?” (24).

This is hard to do, and Packer explains some pitfalls we must avoid:

  1. Don’t be exclusively concerned with human responsibility (25-29). “Our evangelistic work is the instrument that He uses for this purpose, but the power that saves is not the instrument: it is in the hand of the One who uses the instrument. We must not at any stage forget that,” (27). An overemphasis on human responsibility will produce a pragmatic approach that doesn’t honor God. “The spirit of self-reliance is a blight on evangelism,” (29).
  2. Don’t obsess over divine sovereignty (29-35). Packer warmly and graciously explains why some people feel this way. He paints a scenario of a Christian who has only recently come to accept the truth of Reformed soteriology and is zealous for God’s glory. This phenomenon is also known as “cage-stage Calvinism,” a term that came about long after Packer wrote his book! He explained, “They are tempted, therefore, to suspect all enterprise in evangelism, whether organized or on the personal level, as if there were something essentially and inescapably man-exalting about it. They are haunted by the fear of running ahead of God, and feel that there is nothing more urgent than to guard against the possibility of doing this,” (33).

The goal, Packer says, is to make it “our business to believe both these doctrines with all our might, and to keep both constantly before us for the guidance and government of our lives,” (35).

This is probably the most helpful section of the book. Packer’s writing is warm, grandfatherly (even though he was a young man when he penned it, in 1961), and thoroughly biblical. The text is punctuated with extended quotations (not just citations) which emphasize both human responsibility and divine responsibility. His point against allowing systems to drive our interpretation is welcome and right. Any Christian will profit immensely from reading this chapter.

Chapter Three – Evangelism

Evangelism is preaching the Gospel. It has nothing to do with the response; that’s God’s business. “Anyone who faithfully delivers that message, under whatever circumstances, in a large meeting, in a small meeting, from a pulpit, or in a private conversation, is evangelizing,” (41). The Apostle Paul saw himself as a commissioned representative for Christ (42-46) and as such his goal was to teach the truth about Christ; “the news of the incarnation, the atonement, and the kingdom – the cradle, the cross, and the crown – of the Son of God,” (47).

Packer focuses like a laser on the teaching aspect. The Good News doesn’t exist in a vacuum, without a context:

To teach the gospel is his first responsibility: to reduce it to its simplest essentials, to analyze it point by point, to fix its meaning by positive and negative definition, to show how each part of the message links up with the rest – and to go on explaining it till he is quite sure that his listeners have grasped it (48).

The ultimate goal is to covert the hearers to Jesus (49-53).

But, what exactly is the evangelistic message? Packer does an excellent job, and I encourage every Christian to read this section. I don’t have space to do it justice, so I’ll present his answer in outline form (57-:

  1. God
  2. Sin
  3. Conviction of sin is (a) an awareness of a wrong relationship with God, (b) a sense of guilt for particular wrongs done in the sight of God and (c) a sense of personal corruption and perversity before God
  4. Christ; with the person and work of the Savior presented together
  5. A summons to faith and repentance

Packer explains that we evangelize to glorify God and because we love our neighbors (73-82). He takes pains to point out that personal evangelism grows naturally out of friendships:

The right to talk intimately to another person about the Lord Jesus Christ has to be earned, and you earn it by convincing him that you are his friend, and really care about him.

And therefore the indiscriminate buttonholing, the intrusive barging in to the privacy of other people’s souls, the thickskinned insistence on expounding the things of God to reluctant strangers who are longing to get away – these modes of behavior, in which strong and loquacious personalities have sometimes indulged in the name of personal evangelism, should be written off as a travesty of personal evangelism (81).

Packer has an outstanding section on what methods are legitimate in evangelism (81-92). He makes many practical applications, and every pastor would benefit from considering what he says.

The principle is that the best method of evangelism is the one which serves the gospel most completely. It is the one which bears the clearest witness to the divine origin of the message, and the lifeand-death character of the issues which it raises. It is the one which makes possible the most full and thorough explanation of the good news of Christ and His cross, and the most exacting and searching application of it. It is the one which most effectively engages the minds of those to whom witness is borne, and makes them most vividly aware that the gospel is God’s word, addressed personally to them in their own situation (90-91).

Chapter 4 – Divine Sovereignty and Evangelism

How does God’s sovereignty impact our duty to evangelize? Packer answers (92-126):

  • It doesn’t affect the necessity of evangelism
  • It doesn’t affect the urgency for evangelism
  • It doesn’t affect the genuineness of the gospel invitation, or the truthfulness of the gospel promises
  • It doesn’t affect the sinner’s personal responsibility to the gospel
  • It’s our only hope for success in evangelism. God’s sovereignty ought to make us bold, patient and prayerful

Packer’s book is a breath of fresh air; a gentle, Reformed fireside chat from a man who has some important things to say. He writes plainly, simply and clearly. He aims at ordinary Christians, and anyone can read this book and profit from it. This isn’t a partisan work; it’s an irenic plea for a God-honoring understanding of evangelism. In the modern conservative evangelical world, Norman Geisler1 and James White2 stand at opposite soteriological poles and are often seen as the champions of their respective systems. Packer is also Reformed, but he’s not interested in system or labels. It makes his book better.

Notes

1 Norman L. Geisler, Chosen but Free: A Balanced View of God’s Sovereignty and Free Will, 3rd ed. (Minneapolis: Bethany House, 2010).

2 James White, The Potter’s Freedom: A Defense of the Reformation and a Rebuttal To Norman Geisler’s Chosen But Free, revised ed. (Calvary Press, 2011).

 

Authorized: An Interview with Mark Ward

wardThis year, Mark Ward published his book Authorized: The Use and Misuse of the King James Bible (Bellingham, WA: Lexham, 2018). In this book, he makes the argument that Christians deserve a Bible translation in their own common, everyday language – they deserve a vernacular translation:

The KJV beautifully rendered the Scriptures into the language of turn-of-the-seventeenth-century England. Even today the King James is the most widely read Bible in the United States. The rich cadence of its Elizabethan English is recognized even by non-Christians. But English has changed a great deal over the last 400 years—and in subtle ways that very few modern readers will recognize. In Authorized, Mark Ward shows what exclusive readers of the KJV are missing as they read God’s word.

In this interview which I conducted for the website SharperIron.org, Ward explains what his book is about, and why this issue of a vernacular translation is a critical, but often overlooked part of the “bible version” debate that has raged for so long in some Christian circles.

 

Book Review: “Historical Theology In-Depth” by David Beale

bealeDavid Beale, a longtime professor of historical theology at BJU Seminary, published his two-volume Historical Theology In-Depth in 2013. This is an outstanding work, and every pastor and interested Christian should use it as the “go to” text for a foundational explanation of key themes in historical theology.

It doesn’t cover everything, of course. Instead, it hits some high points of historical theology by way of 57 different essays and four detailed appendices over the course of its two volumes. The essays are roughly chronological, written at the introductory level and include helpful bibliographies and extensive citations throughout.

Volume One

The first volume begins with a summary introduction to the early church fathers (1), followed by extensive chapters on major patristic figures (2-8). Beale then moves to the Greek apologists with explanation of their worldview (9), then to a discussion of Christian apologists such as Justin, Irenaeus and others (10-13). He discusses Neo-Platonism (14), Origen and his hermeneutical school (15), Tertullian and Latin Christianity in general (16), then Cyprian and his incipient episcopal ecclesiology (17).

Beale then provides a helpful summary of the “seeds of Roman Catholicism” (18), followed by an essential and superb discussion of the ecumenical creeds from Nicaea through Constantinople III (19-25). He provides some long discussions on different aspects of Augustine’s impact on the Christian church (26-30), followed by an excursus on Manicheanism (31) then some discourses on Nicaea II, icons, and Eastern Orthodoxy and Roman Catholicism (32-33). Beale closes with a very interesting discussion on the patristic teaching on justification by faith (34), and then some brief discussions of Roman Catholicism to the Protestant Reformation (35-37).

Volume Two

The second volume opens with biographical sketches of Luther (1), Melanchthon (2), Zwingli (3) and Calvin (4) as foils to introduce the Protestant Reformation. Beale never discusses the English Reformation, or any national aspect of the Reformation outside of the four great reformers. He finishes his reformation section with a helpful discussion on Arminianism and Calvinism (5).

This is followed by a 40-page discussion on the sabbath day, an odd choice to take up fully 8% of the volume. This is an extensive discussion, but out of place and perhaps unnecessary. Beale lurches back into the reformation with a brief survey of the first-generation Anabaptists (8), then a critique of Baptist Landmarkism on historical grounds (9) and a discussion of Baptist origins and beliefs (10).

From here, Beale moves straight into colonial America and never leaves it. He provides a fascinating chronicle of the rise of Unitarianism in America (11), then the saga of the rise and fall of Harvard (12) and Yale (13-14). Indeed, these colleges are almost used as foils to describe the theological scene in colonial America. These are fascinating glimpses of early promise and zeal for God ruined by apostasy and unbelief. It’s a sober reminder that all institutions are earthly, but our triune Lord and His word alone are eternal.

Beale discussed Jonathan Edwards and the birth and incestuous growth of New Haven theology (14-16) and its impact on 19th century evangelicalism (17). He then provided a survey of apologetics and bibliology from 1800 to the present (18). He closed with a survey of pagan, Jewish and Christian attitutes towards abortion (19), and added four appendices on the shape and age of the earth, and the doctrine of creation.

Highlights

It’s very difficult to pick out the highlights from 57 essays! However, I’ll provide two examples that will illustrate how valuable Beale’s work is.

Creeds and Confessions (vol. 1, ch. 19)

Beale explains that doctrine is vital for two reasons; for the spiritual health of the church and to combat false teaching (1:208). False teachers ply their trade by doing three things; subtraction, addition or misrepresentation of the truth (1:209). He explains, “[t]he Scriptures provide protective guidelines for keeping our churches spiritually healthy and for combatting false doctrine. These guidelines constitute the basic paradigm and essentials for our own confessions of faith,” (1:209).

Beale then provides an extensive summary of the confessions of faith we find throughout the Bible (1:209-215). He clearly establishes that, from the beginning, God’s people have been interested in codifying what they believe and writing it down, so it could be passed on. Beale’s work here is very valuable in demonstrating that God’s people have always had a concrete “rule of faith.” If a Christian is troubled by the Bauer hypothesis of Christian origins, which is the theory Bart Ehrman advocates in scholarly1 and popular2 writings with evangelical fervency, then this chapter is a good place to direct him.

Creeds, Beale argues, are a good thing:

In historical theology the most permanent responses to error have been creeds and confessions. A creed can be both confessional and didactic. It can be both apologetical and polemic. It can be defensive and offensive. As a badge on the breast, created out of exposition, a creed can bring to the surface underlying truth from Scripture previously assumed but never fully defined. Like a raised sword, crafted out of conviction, a creed can militate against heresies and make them more decipherable (1:216).

Creeds are guardrails for orthodoxy. They’re “explanations rather than quotations,” (1:216). And, from the beginning of the Christian church, God’s people have been compelled to write their faith down, particularly in response to heresy. Beale then provides excerpts of several creedal statements from the early patristic era (1:217-222), then moves immediately into a long and extraordinarily helpful discussion of the ecumenical councils (chapters 20-25). This section is critical background for any pastor when teaching or studying Christology, and Beale points him to easily accessible, public domain source documents (e.g. NPNFand NPNF2) for further study.

Eternal Sonship, not Generation (vol. 2, ch. 7)

Beale doesn’t believe in the doctrine of eternal generation. To him, the doctrine “originated from the metaphysical blending of the meanings of the two New Testament words begotten and monogenes,” (2:142). The standard lexicons make it clear, he argued, that the Greek word translated begotten primarily means “to be born or conceived” (2:142). The Bible teaches Christ was conceived by the Holy Spirit. And, the word monogenes means “unique” or “one and only.” But, Beale argues, “[o]n the dubious assumption that the word monogenes derived from gennao (‘to beget’), fourth-century patristic writers depicted monogenes as ‘only begotten,’” (2:142). So, the doctrine developed based, in part, on a faulty understanding of two Greek words.

In addition, Beale insists, the very idea of “eternal generation” implies some kind of derivation of essence. Yet, he cautioned, “[a]n essential attribute of deity is self-existence. Christ’s deity inherently includes the perfection of autotheos, meaning ‘God in Himself,” (2:143). Beale quotes Calvin3 as denying eternal generation. However, I must note that, in this same section, Calvin admits “in respect of order and gradation, the beginning of divinity is in the Father.”4 Beale also quotes Warfield as saying the act of “begetting” is not an eternal act, but an eternal fact about Jesus’ eternal Sonship.5

At the Council of Constantinople, the Christian leader’s mistakes on the etymology and meaning of gennao and monogenes resulted in “the transfer of begotten from a literal-historical event into an eternal concept,” (2:145-146). Platonic philosophy unconsciously colored their thinking. Beale argues strongly that:

“[b]y definition, the concept of eternal generation highlights derivation and subordination. It obfuscates Christ’s selfexistence, which is an essential attribute of deity. It blurs his uniqueness. It is impossible even to express the concept of eternal generation without the use of terms indicative of eternal derivation and subordination,” (2:146).

Beale then provides a historical survey from Justin, to Origen, to Jerome and thence to the Nicean-Constantinople creed (2:147-166) to “show how the terms begotten and monogenes were gradually codified from the grammatical and historical into the conceptual and speculative,” (2:147). He ends the discussion by concluding, “Unfortunately, many have equated the term eternal generation with a separate and fundamental doctrine of Christianity, the eternal sonship of Christ,” (2:167).

I am torn on this. To be honest, I’ve never been comfortable with the doctrine of eternal generation, for the very reasons Beale objects to. I’ve always been more confused after reading theologians try to explain it.

Augustus Strong, as Beale warned, speaks of Christ’s sonship and eternal generation as synonymous. He explained eternal generation was,

“Not creation, but the Father’s communication of himself to the Son … not a commencement of existence, but an eternal relation to the Father … not an act of the Father’s will, but an internal necessity of the divine nature … not a relation in anyway analogous to physical derivation, but a lifemovement of the divine nature, in virtue of which Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, while equal in essence and dignity, stand to each other in an order of personality, office, and operation, and in virtue of which the Father works through the Son, and the Father and the Son through the Spirit.”6

I confess I have no idea what this means. I never have. Berkhof tries to explain …7

It is better to say that the Father generates the personal subsistence of the Son, but thereby also communicates to Him the divine essence in its entirety.

But in doing this we should guard against the idea that the Father first generated a second person, and then communicated the divine essence to this person, for that would lead to the conclusion that the Son was not generated out of the divine essence, but created out of nothing. In the work of generation there was a communication of essence; it was one indivisible act. And in virtue of this communication the Son also has life in Himself.

… but I still don’t get it. His summary definition doesn’t help, either.8 So, Beale has succeeded in really making me think deeply about some theological assumptions. He hasn’t convinced me yet, but I’ve certainly been thinking about the doctrine of eternal generation a lot lately!

Conclusion

There are some gaps in Beale’s text, which is why it isn’t really a “church history.” It’s more a series of essays chronicling key themes in historical theology (like the sub-title says!):

  • He covers the patristic era very, very well
  • The medieval church is largely ignored completely. There’s no discussion of Lombard, Anselm, the and very little of Aquinas, for example. The middle ages is a black hole here.
  • The Reformation is barely sketched. You’d do well to use something else, or refer interested folks to Carter Lindberg’s The European Reformations.
  • In America, Wesleyans and Methodists apparently don’t exist. Harvard and Yale as used as foils to chronicle the state of religion in Colonial America, followed by a quick run through bibliology from 1800 to Barth.
  • Beale’s extensive bibliographic suggestions at the end of each chapter direct the reader to more specific books for further study.

So, make no mistake; this is a series of essays on historical theology. It’s not a church history text. But, what Beale covers, he does very, very well.

In summary, this work is excellent. It belongs on every pastor’s shelf. Any Christian will benefit enormously by reading this text and growing to appreciate the rich theological and historical heritage the Christian church has. Church history didn’t start with Billy Sunday! I cannot recommend this work highly enough.

Notes

1 Bart Ehrman, The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture: The Effect of Early Christological Controversies on the Text of the New Testament, updated ed. (New York: OUP, 2011).

2 Bart Ehrman, Lost Christianities: The Battle for Scripture and the Faiths We Never Knew (New York: OUP, 2005).

3 In Historical Theology, 2:144, Beale quotes Calvin, Institutes, 1.13.29.

4 Calvin, Institutes, 1.13.24.

5 In Historical Theology, 2:144 (footnote 5), Beale quotes from Benjamin Warfield, Biblical and Theological Studies, ed. Samuel G. Craig (Philadelphia: P&R, 1968), 58-59.

6 Augustus Strong, Systematic Theology (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1907), 341-342.

7 Louis Berkhof, Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans publishing co., 1938), 93–94.

8 “It is that eternal and necessary act of the first person in the Trinity, whereby He, within the divine Being, is the ground of a second personal subsistence like His own, and puts this second person in possession of the whole divine essence, without any division, alienation, or change,” (Ibid, 94).

 

Book Review – Overlord

hastings.pngIn 1984, the British journalist and military historian Max Hastings published Overlord: D-Day and the Battle for Normandy. This is a balanced, excellent account of the Allied invasion of France in 1944 (Operation Overlord), and the subsequent battle for Normandy in the months that followed.

The book’s principal strength is its unflinching analysis of the relative strengths and weaknesses of the British, American and (to a lesser extent) Canadian armies which led this invasion force. Most “popular histories” of World War 2 are hagiograpic; that is, they romanticize things. The Americans are often portrayed as infinitely competent, the British plodding and over-cautious, and the Germans faceless ciphers.

Hastings is different.

He presents the Americans and British (particularly the Americans) as amateurish, and no match for the German army when it met it in anything like equal numbers. Instead, the British and Americans are solid, competent, plodding, but nowhere near the brilliant fighting force some popular historians (e.g. Stephen Ambrose) often portray them as. Indeed, it was its remorseless logistical advantage which allowed the Allied armies to grind the German army into submission:

… it was the Allies’ superiority of materiel that enabled them to prevail at last, assisted by competent generalship and a solid performance by most of their men on the battlefield (373).

This kind of analysis may startle some American readers, particularly those who have not read a bit more widely. Hastings continued:

The allies in Normandy faced the faced the finest fighting army of the war, one of the greatest that the world has ever seen. This is a simple truth that some soldiers and writers have been reluctant to acknowledge, partly for reasons of nationalistic pride, partly because it is a painful concession when the Wehrmacht and SS were fighting for one of the most obnoxious regimes of all time (370).

The primary difference between these armies, Hastings believed, was a fight for survival. The German army, for a variety of reasons, fought with something akin to fanaticism. The Americans fought as if they had a dirty job to do. The British were anxious to minimize casualties, as Montgomery led Britain’s last great army in the field.

Normandy was a campaign which perfectly exemplified the strengths and weaknesses of the democracies. The invasion was a product of dazzling organization and staff work, and marvelous technical ingenuity. Once the armies were ashore, there was no firework display of military brilliance. Instead, for the armies, there was a steady, sometimes clumsy learning process. Each operation profited from the mistakes of the last, used massed firepower to wear down the Germans, absorbed disappointments without trauma.

This last was a true reflection of the nature of the struggle: most German commanders, amidst the insuperable difficulties of grappling both with Hitler and the allies, declined towards a state bordering on hysteria. Among the Allied armies, however, there was sometimes gloom, but never real alarm or nervousness. These symptoms were more in evidence at SHAEF, where the role of impotent spectator taxed some men, even the highest, beyond endurance.

Montgomery and Bradley and their staffs and corps commanders merely fought, reconsidered, and fought again until their resources granted them victory (373-374).

Hastings provides an inspired, brief but comprehensive and lively account of the immediate lead-up to Overlord, and the battles which followed. His analysis is sound, logical, and insightful. I appreciated his attempts to go beyond hagiography and lay bare the fact of the matter. I believe the record bears out the conclusion that the Americans and British were competent, the Germans were clearly superior, and the Russians who pressed Germany from the east had become an extraordinarily formidable foe by 1944.

For some further reading, I’d suggest the following:

Book Review – The Glorious Cause

middlekauffRobert Middlekauff’s tome, The Glorious Cause: The American Revolution 1763 – 1789is a worthy overview of the Revolutionary-War era. It picks up in the heady days immediately after the French and Indian War (also known as the Seven Years War), when a cash-strapped Britain decided it needed some additional revenue to pay off debt accumulated during the late war. It ends with the Constitutional Convention, in 1787, and the ratification of the new Constitution shortly afterwards.

This book is part of the esteemed Oxford History of the United States series, and it lives up to its billing. Each volume is written by a distinguished, responsible historian at the height of his powers. Middlekauff takes the reader into the halls of Parliament and into the homes of colonists in New England, the middle colonies, and the South.

  • The political context is very well framed, and any American who still thinks of the Revolutionary War in cartoonish shades of black and white will be set right, if he reads this book. I appreciate the pains Middlekauff took to frame the political and cultural context on both sides of the Atlantic. This is the best part of the book.
  • The military aspect is rushed, but adequate. The reader won’t get any meaningful, comprehensive sense of how the war went. Middlekauff discussed Lexington and Concord, vaulted to Boston, skimmed the disastrous retreat from Long Island, across to New Jersey and thence to the fateful night in Trenton in perhaps 15 pages. From there, we get a smattering of discussion about the war in the South, and a lively (but brief) discussion of the siege at Yorktown. Anybody looking for a comprehensive overview of the military aspect of the Revolution will be disappointed. But, remember, this is a survey work. However, Middlekauff does offer some insightful analysis of the logistical problems (on both sides), and a lengthy discussion on “why they fought.”
  • The time-period leading up to the Constitutional Convention is merely sketched, and the reader finds himself in Philadelphia without quite realizing how he got there! Middlekauff’s discussion about how the Constitution was drafted, and the accompanying arguments and controversies, is very well done, and I appreciated it.

Overall, in about 690 pages of text, Middlekauff managed to take us from the French and Indian War to the Constitutional Convention – and he managed to be substantive, deep, insightful and engaging. That’s not an easy thing to do! I appreciated the book, and liked it a lot. This is the best one-volume survey of the era I’ve read. I doubt I’ll find anything to top it.

More reading

I’ve done a fair amount of reading on the Revolutionary War-era. I’m not a professional historian, but I believe I’m more well-read than most on this topic. Here are few good books on various aspects of the Revolutionary War-era to supplement Middlekauff’s work:

Book Review – Washington’s Crossing

washington

“Washington’s Crossing” by David H. Fischer is a truly wonderful book about the Revolutionary War. It focuses on the 1776 campaign across New York and into New Jersey, a truly disasterous time for the American cause. General Washington suffered one awful defeat after another, as he was constantly out-generaled and outwitted by General William Howe and the Royal Navy. As the rebel cause lay in ruins, and Washington faced the disintegration of his army near Trenton, NJ as Christmas 1776 approached, he decided that he needed to act.

This book is an in-depth look at the events surrounding the great, pivotal battles of Trenton and Princeton, and the men and armies on both sides. Truly an excellent and moving book. A perfect book to buy on this July 4th!