Any reform of the church begins with recovery. Josiah recovered the Book of the Law. Christ recovered the true doctrine of Moses. Paul recovered the true understanding of the Old Testament. Aquinas recovered Aristotle. Calvin recovered the Church Fathers. Luther recovered the gospel of grace. As it was then, so it is now. Reform of American Protestantism requires recovery of our own patriarchs. Renewal assumes return.
Until recently, this recovery (otherwise known as resourcement) has focused narrowly on theology. Both theology proper and the loci of justification, with the attendant sub loci, were center stage. As the resources of the tradition have been recovered, other topics have gone through a revival. Chief among them is politics.
Reformed Christian Politics, co-authored by Stephen Wolfe, Zachary Garris, and Sean McGowen, represents this latter stage of recovery, a welcome addition that defies tired liberal-conservative paradigms and contemporary expectations, refreshingly opting instead for reintroduction of the language, formulae, and priorities of our forebears.
To understand whatWolfe, Garris, and McGowan are saying in Reformed Christian Politics, the reader will need to take the blinders off and unplug his ears. As Lewis notes in his essay “On Reading Old Books,”
We may be sure that the characteristic blindness of the twentieth century—the blindness about which posterity will ask, “But how could they have thought that?”—lies where we have never suspected it, and concerns something about which there is untroubled agreement between Hitler and President Roosevelt or between Mr. H. G. Wells and Karl Barth. None of us can fully escape this blindness, but we shall certainly increase it, and weaken our guard against it, if we read only modern books. Where they are true they will give us truths which we half knew already. Where they are false they will aggravate the error with which we are already dangerously ill.
Mutatis mutandis, the same goes for political philosophy. If we only listen to voices trapped in contemporary paradigms, our own blindness will never be challenged and never cured.
Some will balk at the suggestion that our political vision needs to be cured. One, be he able, need only look around to see that our politics are unhealthy. Gender confusion, illegal immigration, mental health breakdowns, suicide, economic stagnation and regression are not symptoms of a healthy body politic. Blasphemy, clerical abuses, ecclesiastical mistrust, religious pluralism, Hindu idols, and Muslim mosques are not the hallmarks of a healthy relationship between the church and the state. More fundamentally, our present condition offers no coherent account of authority, duties, or political community itself. Reformed Christian Politics, an eye salve as it were, will help us see this more clearly.
The book is a compilation of several essays from three different authors, each of which speaks in his own voice with his own style and emphasis. I will review the contribution of each author separately. We begin with Wolfe.
Wolfe
Wolfe is heavily influenced by the Reformed Scholastic tradition. This renders his prose dense and full of distinctions, much like the Scholastics he interacts with and draws from. This style, while fecund and engaging to the present reviewer, can be a hinderance to many who are not philosophically inclined. For ministers of the Word, however, our office requires of us a level of philosophical understanding to be able to follow Wolfe’s argument and honestly represent it in critique or promotion. Wolfe’s style is not to blame if we are not able to do the reading. We should expect an author delving into the Reformed Scholastic tradition to have a command of these categories as these were the categories that our Reformed forefathers used. The takeaway from this, and from the retrieval movement, is that education of ministers in the Reformed tradition should inculcate a working knowledge of these categories. Much confessional confusion would be cleared up, beyond the general ignorance of our standards, by educating officers in Scholastic distinctions.
Central to Wolfe’s thesis is the dictum that grace does not replace but rather restores nature. His critics, up to this point, have not adequately dealt with this feature of Wolfe’s thesis. “In short, what “relativize” actually means is unclear, and to our knowledge, no one has fully demonstrated its implications.” (47) Critics of Wolfe would do well to heed his own assessment of him. Dealing with this issue would further the discussion and bring clarity to what critics of Wolfe actually take issue with.
The maxim “grace restoes nature” plays out practically in Wolfe’s analysis of the Covenant of Works and man’s abiding natural duties. In his summary of CCN, Wolfe argues for man’s abiding natural duty thus:
To further clarify: doing the original work of Adam regarding the content of the work (viz., the maturing of creation) must be distinguished from that same work as a condition of enteral life. The former is do this; don’t do that, while the latter is if you do this, you receive eternal life. Doing this work in the state of grace does not place one back under the Covenant of Works. Rather, the worker obeys the immutable law of God, which is the only rule to righteousness. To claim otherwise leads to forms of antinomianism. Indeed, Wolfe argues that David VanDrunen’s system of political theology logically entails antinomianism because VanDrunen makes the Covenant of Works and dominion-taking (a natural duty) mutually dependent, such that the end of the covenant entails the end of the work. In effect, the natural duty of man is rescinded [241].
As A Brakel says, a mistake in the Covenant of Works leads to mistakes in the whole system of theology. In this quote, Wolfe, though not doing formal theology, displays a better understanding of covenant theology than many Reformed church officers. This brief exposition of the relation between the Covenant of Works and Natural Law is in line with the Westminster Standards, though perhaps not with current Reformed work in theology.
Westminster Confession of Faith, Chapter 7, paragraph 1 lays out the distinction between the intrinsic natural duty of man (as creature) and the extrinsic covenantal promise to man (again, as creature).
The distance between God and the creature is so great, that although reasonable creatures do owe obedience unto him as their Creator, yet they could never have any fruition of him as their blessedness and reward, but by some voluntary condescension on God’s part, which he hath been pleased to express by way of covenant.
Obedience to God as creator is natural duty. Fruition of God as blessedness and reward is covenantal promise. Paragraph 2 of this same chapter indicates that life was promised (having God as blessedness and reward) to man, per the terms of the Covenant of Works, upon obedience. Note, that the promise of eternal life was a promise of the Covenant of Works not an intrinsic quality of Natural Law. For, God and man are so distant in the order of being that man could never, upon natural principles alone, attain heaven’s joys. Chapter 19, paragraph 1 repeats this same theology but from the perspective of the Law not the Covenant of Works:
God gave to Adam a law, as a covenant of works, by which he bound him and all his posterity to personal, entire, exact, and perpetual obedience, promised life upon the fulfilling, and threatened death upon the breach of it, and endued him with power and ability to keep it.
Note that the law was given to Adam as a covenant of works. The mode of its presentation to Adam was in a particular manner, that is as a covenant. The substance of the Law does not change, though it be presented in a different mode. This is what the next paragraph teaches, “This law, after his fall, continued…” That is, after the breaking of the Covenant of Works through the fall of man, the Law remained. It was the Covenant that was broken and done away with, not the Law.
One wonders how Reformed theology has fallen so low that this needs to be pointed out, but it does. Wolfe, as a scholar, has done the reading in the Reformed tradition. His grasp of covenant theology and the necessary distinctions therein show it. His critics would do well to engage him at this level.
Two criticisms of Wolfe’s sections are in order. First is the reference to the “Warren Court.” While this is easily searchable online, it would have been better to include a footnote citing what this phrase refers to with a brief precis of how it relates to the thesis of this book. Lawyers and scholars may know what this refers to immediately. Seminarians and pastors, whom this book is supposedly written for, likely do not. Second, Wolfe certainly has command of the scholastic distinctions his chosen field of study requires. His readers, often enough do not. Unless one has a background in philosophy or is well read in the Reformed scholastic tradition, he will be lost in the intrinsic, extrinsic, formal, material, and syllogistic weeds. A bit of “vulgarity” would go far in making Wolfe’s learning digestible for the common man.
Garris
A pastor and lawyer, Garris is at his best in polemics. This is evident in his brilliant critique of Modern Two Kingdoms theology. It is theological, historical, and faithful to the Confession. Advocates of Modern Two Kingdoms theology would do well to interact with his arguments in chapter 6. Chapter 5, “Applying the Mosaic Laws: Theonomy vs. WCF General Equity” is another well done chapter displaying Garris’ legal mind in full force. His comments here are well worth theonomy’s proponent’s time and effort.
The view presented throughout RCP is not theonomic. It has much in common with theonomy, but it is not a repackaging of theonomy. Many critics of Wolfe and the Christian nationalist project have lumped these two schools of thought together. Many theonomists have tried to ride the coattails of the CN movement, further blurring the distinction between the two. The major difference between the two schools lay in the punishments for violations of the Law of God. The theonomist sees the judicial punishments of Moses as obligatory in all circumstances whereas Wolfe, Garris, and McGowan do not. Though this may seem a minor difference, this is a major cleavage. The substance of this difference is the prudence of the magistrate’s exercise of rule (60-65). On the theonomic premise, there is little to no room for prudential consideration of the condition of the people in prosecuting violators of the laws. It is merely a matter of knowing which law was broken and assigning the prescribed punishment, also dictated by the laws. The magistrate then is nothing more than a bureaucrat following policy. Justice is reduced to procedure and is merely formal with no material substance guiding adherence to form. On the classical Reformed premise, prudence plays a major role in the prosecution of the violators of the laws as the condition and temper of the people is considered in punishment of crime. It is not simply a matter of crime A equals punishment A. The second order effects must be taken into account. Consideration of these effects is prudence. On this scheme, the magistrate truly acts as a judge, determining how and to what degree he will prosecute violators of the laws.
The practical effects of this cleavage display the importance of it. Should the strict theonomist gain real political power and the authority to prosecute lawbreakers, how would he act? It is reasonable to assume, on his premises, that he would execute sodomites. This would be in keeping with the abiding validity of God’s Law including the judicial punishments. What would the practical effect be, however? It would likely result in a revolution of the people against his rule. The body politic of 21s Century America is not in a condition to tolerate the execution of sodomites, however valid that punishment may be. From this perspective, the rigid, bureaucratic application of the judicial punishments of God’s Law would be unjust. Not for any reason arising from the law itself nor from the punishment, but from a lack of consideration of the circumstances of the body politic. The question may be legitimately asked, how would a classical Reformed magistrate act should he be given real political authority? Since all circumstances cannot be foreseen, a possible manner of dealing with sodomy in 21st Century America would be something like this: Regulating the entertainment industry to prohibit positive depictions of homosexuality in mass media. This would require no lives being taken (an irrevocable act) and would deal with one root cause of rising sodomy, propagandized youth befuddled by their own changing bodies, personalities, and emotional/hormonal complexes. Other just acts could be contemplated, this is only given to illustrate the point that theonomists and classical Reformed magisterium, while pulling in the same direction row the ship of state in very different manners.
Thus, the differences between theonomy and classical Protestant political theory are much greater than meets the eye. Politics is expressed in action, and the actions each of these theories leads to would be very different though they share major premises.
McGowan
McGowan’s contribution to this volume is the smallest but the most practical. His chapter on American Presbyterians and Civil Government is eminently readable, avoiding the philosophical and polemical elements of Wolfe and Garris’ chapters. His general survey of American Presbyterians’ view of civil government serves as a sourcebook for further research. During these days of recovery, the American tradition can often be neglected in favor of Latin scholastic works. While Reformed Presbyterians do trace our confessional heritage and theological pedigree to the high orthodoxy of the 17th century, we are American Presbyterians, inheritors of a tradition sown by Europe in American soil. The theological harvest nurtured under our sun deserves its own husbanding. McGowan leads us into these fields ably.
McGowan’s chapter would have benefited from at least some inclusion of the Scottish presbyterian perspectives (the ARP and RPCNA). Those two communions are part of NAPARC and their views have pollinated the current American debate, producing the confused harvest we are now reaping. Perhaps this was neglected out of modesty or limits of time and space. In either case, should a second edition be produced (and this reviewer thinks it should) it should include some interaction with these Scottish traditions as well.
McGowan’s best effort, however, is in the final chapter “Conclusion and Application.” A communicator’s skill is shown in how he introduces his topic and how he concludes that topic. McGowan’s skill here is welcome. His three points of conclusion ably summarize the book as a whole and provide talking points to those seeking a Christian commonwealth in NAPARC. This reviewer is in full agreement with his three points of application, especially the second one. Our seminary model was built on the assumption that undergraduate programs would furnish a classical liberal education. This is no longer the case as most undergrad programs are captured by post-modern cultural Marxism. Thus, most seminary students lack the foundational education in the Western tradition to intelligently debate these questions. The Reformation was both an ecclesiastical and an educational recovery. As McGowan applies Reformed Christian Politics he shows us that we need to be reeducated in addition to being reformed.
Concluding Observations
“[O]ur political theology is creating conditions in which our progeny will suffer.” (231)
The motivation of the young men attracted to Christian Nationalism is captured in this one line. We want to raise our kids in a land that is conducive to their flourishing. This is nothing more than an expression of the Ordo Amoris. St. Paul speaks of the ordo amoris in Romans chapter 1, verse 31. The translation of this verse has obscured Paul’s point, however.
The word translated as “unloving” (NKJV) or “heartless” (ESV) is ἀστόργους in Greek, astorge. Literally without storge. In this case the KJV features the best translation for this term when it renders it “without natural affection.” Storge is the love of one’s own. Paul includes the lack of this kind of love in the same list of sins as homosexuality and hating God. Calvin’s comment is brief but apt, “Without the feelings of humanity are they who have put off the first affections of nature towards their own relations.” Lack of natural affection is a sign of God’s judgement. And yet, “And now for a little space grace hath been shewed from the LORD our God, to leave us a remnant to escape, and to give us a nail in his holy place, that our God may lighten our eyes, and give us a little reviving in our bondage.” (Ezra 9:8) Reformed Christian Politics is a worthy contribution to that little reviving we and our progeny need.
A final note: commissioners to this year’s PCA General Assembly would do well to read this volume. As we anticipate the release of the Christian Nationalism Committee’s study report, this volume will provide valuable context to the debate. When trying to understand a position, it is wise to read the perspective of advocates and critics so that you have a balanced view. Reformed Christian Politics advocates one view and it does so ably. Critics would do well to understand this view before condemning it.
Image Credit: Wikimedia Commons.
