Against Liberal Theology - A Review

The more I study modern theology, particularly modernist theologies, the more I am convinced that J. Gresham Machen was right. He wasn’t right about the letter he wrote during seminary to his mother protesting the integration of Princeton Seminary’s dorms. However, he was correct about his theological analysis of modern liberalism that it is a distinct religion from Christianity.

Machen’s point has often been disputed. The main objections are that he was a racist (especially currently) and that he was mean (because he was critical of bad theology). I have not yet encountered anyone saying that Machen’s conclusion was incorrect based on the merits of his argument. (This may exist, it’s not my wheelhouse and it may be that I just haven’t found it.)

However, Roger Olson of Baylor’s Truett Theological Seminary has recently penned a book that argues that Machen is right. In Against Liberal Theology: Putting the Brakes on Progressive Christianity, Olson makes the argument that based on its own descriptions, modernist theological liberalism is something different from Christianity.

Olson is a theologian that specializes in the historical evolution of Christian though. Two of his books, The Story of Christian Theology and The Journey of Modern Theology are very helpful surveys. Olson is a self-described “moderate.” He believes Scripture is mostly true and authoritative, and that it infallibly points toward true things. He generally judges theologians and their theology on their merits in comparison to orthodoxy, as it has been historically understood. Olson is exactly the sort of person to write a book like Against Liberal Theology because he holds mediating positions on the questions in play—everyone already knew that Machen thought liberal theology was bad; Olson was previously critical of full theological liberalism, but he draws some lines in this book that surprised me.

Olson’s main beef with liberal theology is, “It allows modern knowledge, whatever that is at the moment, to stand in authority over the Bible in the most important matters.” This methodological flaw leads to either overt rejection of or redefinition of basic doctrines that are essential to Christianity. Therefore, some modern liberals reject the deity of Christ or the truthfulness of the resurrection. Some of them redefine the terms to explain it away. Others will repeat the orthodox confessions without actually believing it because their Christianity is not a quest for truth, but participation in an experience that conforms to historical patterns of action. Olson rightly identifies that by rejecting or redefining the central doctrines of Christianity, modern liberal theologians have created another religion. It sounds like Christianity sometimes, but it is really something different.

After a brief introduction where he begins defining his terms and outlining his thesis, Olson begins with a chapter on the sources of authority for theological liberalism. Tellingly, the next chapter is on the relationship between liberal theology and the Bible. Then Olson moves through specific theological topics like theology proper, Christology, soteriology, and eschatology. He then closes the book addressing the reality that, even as the number of faithful Christians dwindles, participation in modernistic liberal faith practices is plummeting. He closes by encouraging those Christians who find socially progressive causes attractive to no lose the animating force of real Christianity as they pursue their vision of justice.

This is a helpful book in many respects. Olson is particularly careful as a scholar when dealing with those to the left of him. Thus, this is not a polemic against theological liberalism. He affirms much of what Machen identified much earlier on, but because he’s “not one of those dirty fundamentalists” his critique is much stronger. Olson relies on original sources and secondary sources that are sympathetic to theological liberalism. This adds strength to his argument. Although most liberal Christians would not identify their religious beliefs as anything but authentic Christianity, Olson shows how theologians at the heart of liberalism agree with the substance of the critique. It’s just that they think their departures from historic Christian doctrine are warranted.

On the edges of this book are Olson’s side quests. He tries to rehabilitate Clark Pinnock, who rejected orthodox theology in favor of open theism, as conservative. He also seems to be open to severing Christian ethics from Christian theology, particularly in his definition of “progressive Christianity.” These, however, are minor distractions from what is otherwise a very helpful book, especially for those among theologically conservative evangelicals who recognition of liberal Christianity (as it were) as a distinct religion are ignored because of supposed bias.

The Snakebite Letters - A Review

If there is anyone who I think might possibly pull off a version of C. S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters, it would have to be Peter Kreeft.

Kreeft is deeply steeped in Lewis and in the same source material that Lewis was infatuated by. Kreeft writes well, is witty, has similarly strong opinions, and generally expresses them clearly.

In The Snakebite Letters: Devilishly Devious Secrets for Subverting Society as Taught at the Tempter’s Training School, Kreeft takes a swing and misses the mark.

The book is entertaining and at points helpful. Kreeft is at his best when he is engaging modernity with a pre-modern, Christian vision. That is exactly what he does through much of the book.

Kreeft identifies the real, spiritual nature of the ongoing strife in the lives of Christians. He notes how the media helps saturate every minute with unhelpful thoughts, especially about sex. This leads to undermining any helpful conception of chastity and advocacy for abortion, often as a matter of convenience, even by those who recognize that it is reprehensible and evil.

Somewhere Kreeft here slips away from talking about Christianity to talking about a defense of Tridentine Roman Catholicism, which is the particular sect of Christianity that he converted to as an adult. Much of the rest of the book shifts away from spiritually helpful resistance to modernity to his particular concerns about the internecine struggles within his own tribe. More than many of his other books where he dabbles in pro-Roman apologetics and swipes against the Reformed faith, this book majors in those topics.

Kreeft, of course, has every right to defend his particular version of Christianity. This is likely a very helpful book for those seeking to evade the weird balkanizations within the membrane of Catholicism, with Trads that hate the pope but are stuck with him and Liberals that often dislike the historic teachings of Roman Catholicism that serve as the supreme authority but like the pomp and circumstance. As odd as so much of Protestantism is (and it is odd!) the tensions within Roman Catholicism are sometimes baffling.

Lewis’s appeal in Screwtape is that he is arguing for mere Christianity. That is, his book is generally applicable to a wide range of Christians. Kreeft leaves most Protestants behind for much of this book.

More significantly, however, Kreeft is simply not as capable as carrying out the schtick as Lewis. I’m a fan of both Lewis and Kreeft and have found Kreeft to be one of the most enjoyable contemporary writers of apologetics and wit. His inability to consistently carry the motif is more a testament to Lewis’s brilliance than any detriment to Kreeft. There are times where Kreeft’s own didactic voice comes through and it is clear that it is him talking to the reader, not the demon Snakebite writing to his apprentice, Braintwister. There are holes in the plot, the wall isn’t quite sound, and it becomes possible to catch a glimpse of the man behind the curtain.

The fact that Kreeft can’t pull off a copycat of Screwtape is probably a sign that so many others that try it shouldn’t. As Kreeft notes in his introduction, Lewis would likely have “wanted such ‘plagiarisms’”. It’s not the copycatting that is the problem, it is that the bar is so high that everything else seems like weak sauce—even what Kreeft provides here.

My appreciation for Kreeft remain undaunted. I was left a little unimpressed by The Snakebite Letters, but not really disappointed. It’s a credit that Kreeft came as close as he did. Who knows, the next person to try may actually pull it off. I doubt it, though.

A Compass for Deep Heaven - A Review

There is version of academic work that focuses mainly on how the author handles secondary works. This leads to the sort of reviews that argue that, though the focus of a book or essay was a particular author, if someone didn’t specifically reference another author’s book or essay that they have somehow failed as a scholar. Worse would be if someone did read the approved sources and still managed to come to a different reading of the original source.

Such petty narrowmindedness exists within many different guilds of scholarship. It is a reflection of scholarship for the sake of prestige rather than for its own sake.

There are, of course, important essays and books that should be dealt with as appropriate. It would be tiresome to begin always in the same place, so that every new work had to pretend like nothing had every previously been written or said. Good scholarship often builds on previous work. But if an essay deals meaningfully with the text or topic in question, counting footnotes and checking the bibliography to measure quality is tacky.

A recent volume by a group of undergraduates was a refreshing glimpse into what thoughtful scholarship can look like, when one does not get lost in the weeds of secondary literature. In A Compass for Deep Heaven, a collection of honors students from Azusa Pacific University demonstrates thoughtful exploration of a topic without cluttering the notes with excessive commentary about the commentary.

The volume offers an accessible introduction to C. S. Lewis’ Ransom Trilogy, which is often referred to as the Space Trilogy. For many, Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength, remain unexplored territory in the literature of Lewis. They get neglected in favor of Narnia, Mere Christianity, and some of his more popular collections of essays. These three volumes, however, offer impressive illustrations of Lewis’ ideas and are an imaginative rebuttal to the illnesses of modernity. Due to the number of cultural allusions, the references to other works of science fiction, and the strangeness of the third volume, the Space Trilogy is often only slightly less neglected than Lewis’ scholarly work.

Part of the pleasure of reading A Compass for Deep Heaven is that the authors keep their focus on the work under consideration. They use sources to amplify their arguments and bring readers deeper into Lewis’ work. Really, the only signs that they authors are undergraduates is the lack of terminal degrees in their biographies, a note about the volume being published by their university initially, and the fact that the authors were less concerned with padding the notes than making their point.

This is a good book. May more books with this tone increase. And, more significantly, may books like this draw more people into the work of C. S. Lewis.

NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.

How Dante Can Save Your Life - A Review

I have subjected my daughter to a “Great Conversations” curriculum for her high school homeschool. She is of the bookish sort, so the large volume of reading is really up her alley.

This year, at the beginning of the year, she is staring down Spenser’s Faerie Queene and Dante’s Divine Comedy at roughly the same time. Spenser is in her English literature curriculum, with Dante occupying a prime place (about 1/6th of the year) in her Great Conversations course. There is overlap between the courses, though Great Conversations tends to be as much about history and philosophy as literary value.

In any case with my dear daughter bowed under the weight of two classic, but challenging, texts, I felt compelled to find her some resources (besides my fervent assurance) that they volumes are very much worth the labor to read and understand them.

I have heard Rod Dreher’s 2015 book, How Dante Can Save Your Life recommended by some that know Dante well. Even some that find Dreher’s more recent work in The Benedict Option and Live Not by Lies a bit too political and panicked have recommended the volume.

There is good reason for the recommendation. This is a good book. It’s not quite the commentary on Dante that I was looking for, but it tells a good story, it uses Dante’s Divine Comedy as a framework, and engages the mind and heart in the pursuit of truth.

Like most converts to anything, Dreher has strong opinions. The story he tells in How Dante Can Save Your Life has strong ties to Dreher’s opinions about the value of Roman Catholicism he left from his earlier Methodism, and the Orthodoxy that Dreher adopted after he became disgusted with the Catholic hierarchy after sitting under a liberal priest and reporting on the Roman Catholic sex scandals in the late ‘90s and early 2000s. There is a lot of veneration of icons, exorcisms, and ritualistic prayers in the book that will make those familiar with Scripture, especially the second commandment (or the 2nd half of the first commandment in the Catholic and Orthodox tradition) very uncomfortable. At the same time, there is a real discovery of grace and the ability to forgive that provides the climax of the book.

This is a story of homegoing. After the death of his sister––whose legacy Dreher memorialized in The Little Way of Ruthie Leming––Dreher and his family moved back to rural Louisiana. Dreher expected to be welcomed back, but found himself alienated from his family and depressed. The stress of his anger at his perceived mistreatment left him with a significant bout of chronic fatigue.

How Dante Can Save Your Life is a story of Dreher finding his way out of a pit of depression and learning to forgive his family. It involves regular counselling, ascetic spiritual practices, and a deep dive into Dante’s epic journey through Hell, Purgatory, and finally on to Paradise.

As I have said, this is not primarily a commentary on Dante. However, as Dreher follows Dante on his journey, we see how a great work of literature can have a significant impact on the mind, body, and soul. Dreher’s telling of his own story maps well onto Dante’s journey of self-discovery. Although the story is more about Dreher than Dante, it is well-told and it does illuminate the power of the Divine Comedy many centuries after it was first penned.

This book is impressive because it was written to a broad audience. Dreher invites secular readers into a moral vision that points toward Christianity. It isn’t clearly stated, but the Dreher offers and invitation to the reader to be conformed to the moral order of the universe. Through his own story of discovering joy in chastity, even the atheist can see the value in the discipline of sexual restraint and seeking persistent love before conjugal relations.

Dreher provides some resolution to the tension of the story, but it is a powerful twist on the ending one might expect. If this were a sitcom, then Dreher would have been received with open arms by his family, everyone would apologize and the wrongs of previous years forgotten. As it stands, Dreher recounts his coming the point of being able to forgive despite not receiving many concessions from the family who held him at a distance. In this Dreher provides a picture of the most likely reality. We do not always get to live happily ever after, but we get many opportunities to choose to be as happy as we can be in a given circumstance.

This is Dreher’s book telling Dreher’s story. There are points at which one wonders if the narrator can be fully trusted. Although Dreher admits to some of his own failings, it is clear that he believes the fault is mainly on the other side. The reader is left wondering whether Dreher is entirely fair to the rest of his family. The downside of the book is that the reading of it feels a little voyeuristic. One wonders how the rest of the family feels about his publication of this volume.

If you can get over the feeling that there might be too much dirty laundry exposed in this volume, the book is well worth reading. I’m offering it as an auxiliary volume for the Great Conversations curriculum as a way to see the value of Dante. It also offers a thoughtful portrait of redemption and forgiveness. These are all things that deserved to be explored in greater detail by all of us, especially by those trying to figure out why the books consistently chosen for a Great Conversations curriculum belong there.

Good Prose - A Review

There is a certain amount of learning how to write that comes through osmosis, first by reading widely and second by simply writing. At some point, however, the amount that one can discover by blundering about copying better writing and dissecting one’s resulting prose is exhausted. Professional help is needed.

For those in academic settings, getting help with writing is much easier than for those outside the ivory tower. There is a writing center, a critical mass of people all trying to write better, and even classes that one can audit if time allows. For others, especially those who practice their writing largely in isolation, external helps are needed, often in the form of books about writing.

Good Prose is such a book. It is co-written by Tracy Kidder, a Pulitzer Prize winning author, and his long-time editor, Richard Todd. The relationship they share is an unlikely situation in our contemporary setting. Most authors flit around between publications trying to scrape out a meager existence between online and print articles. Editors seem to change allegiances nearly as quickly, especially as the ability to edit seems to be much less significant to many people than the willingness to acquiesce to whatever the trendy political flavor of the day is. Kidder and Todd worked at The Atlantic together for decades. They collaborated on stories, articles, and even books. Some of those books took years to write.

The result of the partnership between Kidder and Todd was more than a large literary output and a Pulitzer Prize. A friendship is evident that helped shape the way each other thought and the way the words were formed on the page. The actual writing advice in Good Prose at some points is less visible than the story of the relationship between an editor and a writer. That is to say, this is the sort of book that someone who had very little interest in writing or editing well could be enthralled by.

The chapters flow as one might expect from a less narratival approach to teaching writing: discussions of narratives, memoirs, essays, the importance of facts (and the ability to negotiate them), issues of style and commercial viability, and the balance between conformity to standard usage and bending the rules. This isn’t Strunk and White’s twenty-five rules, though. One gets a strict list of applications and speed limits from that slim volume. Good Prose offers guidance, but more importantly, it offers a vision of what the writing life can be in the best of circumstances.

On my first pass through the volume, I barely noticed the technical advice that authors provided in their collaboration. As I was reviewing the book to write this review the actual writing instruction became more apparent. What stuck out during my careful reading of the volume is the encouragement of a friendship around communicating to the world through the written word.

If you are struggling with grammar, this may not be the book for you. (In fact, they point you toward a book they recommend on the topic.) However, if you are looking for encouragement in your own quest to continue writing, in your willingness to be edited, and in the hope that you can improve over time, then this is a book that delivers.

Good Prose: The Art of Nonfiction
By Kidder, Tracy, Todd, Richard
Buy on Amazon

Lost in Thought - A Review

For all the criticism that academic pursuits get for putting someone in “an ivory tower” there is an awful lot of rat race that goes on.

When I would comment on the chaos in our department or a major corporation, mostly due to the ineptitude of a former boss, I would frequently be told “that’s the nature of the business, this isn’t like a university.”

The thing is, if it ever was such a thing, universities are no longer places of quiet rest and contemplation. The pressure to publish and present or miss promotions and tenure is real for many young faculty. More experienced faculty often are still trying to find elbow room for their ideas, publishing opportunities, and respect. To read the stories of the life of C. S. Lewis and his own accounts in That Hideous Strength, I think the halcyon days of a peaceful, irenic university faculty life are more urban legend than real history.

What, then, is the value of the intellectual life? Is it really just another hyper-competitive sphere of life, without any different potential than the rest of the corporate grind?

In Lost in Thought, Zena Hitz explores the possibility that the intellectual life has potential for enjoyment on its own.

This is the sort of book that is good for young academics wondering if the mountain is worth climbing or for older faculty wondering what joy there can be in a community that is often polite in the midst of savagery.

What Hitz finds is that, while academia is not for everyone, there is a joy in the process of learning for its own sake. She argues that learning has inherent value. It is worth pursuing even if it does not result in greater riches and measurable wealth. It does, however, require the space of time and energy that come from leisure—exactly the reason why it is so hard to justify learning for its own sake in our harried and exhausted culture.

Even for those outside of the ivy shrouded walls of academia there is value in intellectual pursuits. They provide a refuge in a hostile world as we touch the minds of many who have gone before and lived fuller lives. Hitz explores ways that being a bookish sort of person can lead to relief and blessing in the midst of struggle and difficulty.

Learning, however, must be pursued for its own sake to have the full effect. If the point of learning becomes to climb a social ladder, to be cutting edge, or to win approval, then it is perverted and many of its benefits are reduced. She writes, “Intellectual life is artisanal toast for the mind.” The idea being that it must be enjoyed to be worth the cost.

More significantly, learning must not be pursued for the sake of politics. In that case, learning becomes about indoctrination. This is true whether the guiding lights of the institution lean right or left. Real learning is meaningful when it wrestles with the thorny thoughts of different perspectives to come out the other side with transformative power.

This is a book that is inspiring for those outside of academia who are inclined to continue learning and growing but struggle with the value of those efforts—heaven knows that has been my fate for several years. Lost in Thought provides reassurance that reading, writing, and seeking to grow intellectually have a purpose even if those efforts are not rewarded with academic titles, publishing contracts, sabbaticals, and the other trappings of the university.

The Method of Christian Theology - A Review

If there is a list of people’s favorite topics in religious studies, theological method is probably not on it. Theological method is like exercise fundamentals for sports—it’s the drill, the stretching, the knowledge of warmup and cooldown technique. Theological method is learning the optimal stride length, the number of strokes per length, or the way to hold your head when you are trying to fake the defender out.

In other words, theological method is extremely important for being really good at theology, but it’s the part of the process that most people like to skip right by. In reality, unless there is something quite wrong, you can produce what appears to be reasonably sound theology without a lot of thought to method. However, when the fundamentals are wrong it limits your future prospects, makes it harder to fix problems later on in your development, and can lead you in unhelpful directions.

Theology method is not sexy, but it is very important.

Rhyne Putman’s book, The Method of Christian Theology: A Basic Introduction, provides an accessible, engaging entry into the fundamentals of the discipline.

Summary

This book is divided into four different parts, unevenly sized, that walk readers through the prolegomena––the foreword, so to speak––of theology. Part One begins by providing an overview of theology, its nature as a process of describing truth, its components and purpose of making disciples, followed by an overview of the various ways that people approach theology—biblical, systematic, etc. Part Two emphasizes the need to be the right sort of person to pursue theology and have a mind ready to receive God’s word and think through that. The third part shifts to the practical by considering method-proper. Putman begins with Scripture, which is the supreme authority for Christian theology. He then considers the place of tradition, philosophy, and experience within the theological project. Only then does he sketch a basic procedure for doing theology. Part Four lands the book with the important, but oft neglected practical aspects of theology: proper contextualization, writing a research paper, and preaching a doctrinal sermon. The conclusion of the volume again emphasizes the importance of making disciples.

Analysis

There are various ways that a book on theological method could be approached. Some authors do primarily descriptive work, showing how various theologians have approached the task of theology. Some focus on a critical approach, outlining, diagnosing, and seeking to correct the work of others. Putman’s approach includes some of those aspects, but his primary focus is on helping the prospective theologian be the sort of person who can do theology well and to outline an approach that will help that budding teacher to make disciples.

There are other good books on theological method on the market. In fact, in terms of the raw content, Putman’s book is a standard work that stays cleanly between the lines of orthodoxy, especially as it is expressed in the Protestant evangelical tradition that most Baptists call home.

The emphasis on the character of the theologian is a strength of this volume. At the heart of Putman’s arguments is the belief that “The end goal of critical theological study is not building an academic program impenetrable to people in the pews but building the kingdom of God through seeing transformed lives, churches, and cultures through Christian disciple-making.” (44) Elsewhere he writes, “I grow frustrated with professing Christians who don’t seem content until they have something to be angry about. With their own ‘outbursts of anger,’ they police the thoughts and behaviors of others but seem blind to their own quarrelsome and bullyish ways.” (92)

Putman is not interested in raising up a generation of warrior children of the conservative resurgence, who tend to confuse contending for the faith with being contentious about the faith. Neither is he looking to increase the nerd-quotient of the local church. Instead, he sees the method of theology as becoming a better disciple of Christ that is equipped to make disciples for Christ. This is a significant and vital difference.

Conclusion

The Method of Christian Theology would be a good course text for an undergraduate or intro-level seminary course on systematic theology. It would also be an excellent resource for training a group of elders or simply encouraging doctrinal thinking among the laity in a local church. The book is beyond what might be useful in most contexts for Sunday school. However, my intention is to use it as an introductory text for a high school systematic theology course.

As someone who has studied theology for a number of years, this was a refreshing and encouraging book. For the pastor seeking to deepen his understanding of doctrine or refocus his interest in theology, this would also be a helpful resource.

A New Look into the Crisis of Epistemology - Untrustworthy - A Review

How do we know what we know? What criteria do we use to determine what is true? When sources of information conflict, how do we come to a resolution?

Epistemology––the way that we know things––is among greatest challenges of our day.

There is no question that humanity’s greatest need is the gospel, but epistemology is a significant barrier to communicating the gospel and for others to receive the gospel message.

The epistemological crisis is not an “out there” problem in the world, as we were told for years with postmodernism. We have an epistemology crisis in the church. And not just “those liberals” who deny the resurrection, affirm sexual revisionism, or whatever. The crisis provides different symptoms on the left, the right, and in the center (doctrinally speaking), but it is no less severe.

Bonnie Kristian is a journalist who writes for The Week, a news digest magazine that summarizes current events from around the world. She has also been a columnist for Christianity Today.

In her recent book, Untrustworthy, Kristian tackles the crisis on knowledge in US Christianity. She begins by outlining the problem, digs into its various instantiations, and concludes by proposing some basic steps to begin to iron out solutions. This is an introductory volume with plenty of illustrations to keep the reader engaged in a discussion about an important topic.

The first step to dealing with any problem is to recognize there is a problem. When epistemology is the issue, it is difficult for people to identify for themselves. As David Foster Wallace pointed out in his well-known commencement address, “This is Water,” we make a million assumptions about the world and usually cannot see our own weaknesses and failures.

For cultural progressives, who tend to congregate on the political left, the epistemological flaws may include basic assumptions about truth—that truth is dependent upon one’s experience and identity. (Chapter 7) It may include conspiracy theories that a cabal of old, rich, white men have rigged the economy against a whole host of oppressed minorities. It includes assumptions that anyone who does not affirm the appropriate culturally progressive theories of humanity––even ones that would have earned a horse laugh a decade ago––without question is somehow a knuckle-dragging neanderthal.

For those on the political right––I will not call them conservatives, because they usually are not––there are insidious conspiracy theories about the “deep state,” child trafficking rings, and pending arrest of specific political figures. Even those that have not fallen into the deep well of QAnon nonsense have probably seen, heard, or been impacted by adjacent conspiracy theories. The mantra “Do your own research” has been used to invalidate any perspective that does not accord with the starting opinions of the “independent thinking” individual who is generally getting his or her research threaded together by a Reddit poster or a YouTuber. (Chapter 5)

The epistemological crisis is not a problem that was caused by people minding their own business.  It hasn’t even really been caused by social media or the traditional media, per se. (Chapter 2) Twenty-four-hour cable news has certainly accelerated the problem. Ideological isolation of many individuals—especially journalists and experts—has contributed to the epistemological crisis. Decades of intentional erosion of a belief in an external, objective truth (even if we can’t perfectly describe it) has added fuel to the fire. This is a whole culture problem that has many contributors. Anyone who tries to blame just one group or medium of communication is probably selling something.

Kristian’s analysis does not cover every possible contributing factor to the epistemological crisis. She tends to focus on non-academic elements of epistemology. This is understandable, because there is a lot of navel gazing that goes on among philosophers about what it takes to form justified true beliefs (see Alvin Plantinga’s book, Knowledge and Christian Belief for a reasonably accessible intro). She also does not propose simple solutions, which is good, because there are no simple solutions. However, Kristian’s Untrustworthy does provide a reasonable introduction to the philosophy of knowledge for someone for whom “epistemology” might as well be a term for a vestigial gland in New Zealand marsupials.

One potential weakness of Untrustworthy is that it seems to punch right more than it punches left. This makes sense, for a least two reasons. First, Kristian has joined an Anabaptist sect (she says because of their pacifism), which tend to be more doctrinally conservative. Therefore, Kristian is more concerned about the problems on the “Right” side of the Christian spectrum. Second, the epistemological crisis among evangelicals and fundamentalists comes to the cocktail party in overalls, while the progressives bring their epistemological distortions in tuxedos laced with hallucinogens. Twisted metaphor aside, it is often much easier to identify the problems of QAnon and adjacent theories than it is the slippery arguments for progressive relativism. (The fact that many can’t seem to differentiate between trying to not be overtly racist and actual Critical Race Theory tends to support that fact.)

What Kristian makes clear is that the epistemological crisis of our day is not just due to “liberals” or “progressives” that can’t tell the difference between a biological male and female. The world has become liquid for those that identify as conservatives and progressives. Some of the people who have ardently argued against postmodern epistemology have fallen into the snare of it. Kristian’s book helps to show the reader immersed in the river of Western culture what water is. Perhaps by recognizing the problem we can begin to take steps to shore up the foundations of knowledge and rebuild a stronger society.

NOTE: I was provided an advanced reader copy of this volume by the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.

God's People in the Western World - A Review

One of my regular critiques of many contemporary books is they are about 100 pages too long. Authors have often sufficiently explained their point, but because of contract stipulations or a lack of discipline, they continue writing after the book is done. This can be true of shorter books, but it is often true of longer books. Sometimes, however, long books have good cause to be long.

Richard Gamble’s book, The Whole Counsel of God: God’s People in the Western World, is a mammoth book that comes in at just under 1,100 pages. Despite its length, this volume is packed with valuable content from start to finish.

This latest book completes an impressive trilogy of theological writing. The first two volumes, God’s Mighty Acts in the Old Testament and The Full Revelation of God wrestle with the relationship between systematic and biblical theology, with a sound understanding of historical readings of the whole Bible. Volume three, God’s People in the Western World, is part historical theology and part church history. Gamble concludes the set by shifting from his more direct discussions of the text itself by setting the debates and efforts of Christian theologians in their cultural context for the whole of church history. This is an impressive feat.

Though there are certainly signs for concern within the church, there are also signs of hope. Among those signs is a growing interest in biblical theology that is often constructed along the framework of the Creation, Fall, Redemption narrative arc that provides shape to so much of Scripture. There are also pockets of increased engagement in systematic theology. However, historical theology tends to remain the neglected theological sister.

God’s People in the Western World provides a comprehensive overview of historical theology, tracing out the intellectual development of Christianity. He begins with a survey of the Greek philosophy that influenced the cultural context of the early church. These were the conversation partners early exegetes encountered and whose ideas had to be accounted for. The volume moves all the way through postmodernity, broader 20th century debates, and even into ongoing debates within Reformed circles.

Large volumes like this are often imposing and serve more as ballast for the bookshelf or, in the era of zoom calls, as trophies on the shelf to demonstrate one’s theological prowess. This is, however, a book that deserves to be read. It is not a fast read (what 1,100 page book is?) but it is a very readable volume. God’s People in the Western World moves through a vast sweep of history deliberately, but it does not drag. Neither does the volume depend on a strong background in theology. This may not be first place that an interested student should go to get an overview of church history and historical theology––a more concise overview might be a better place to begin that quest––but this a book that a student of theology can come back to time and again as a helpful reference.

Given that the book is published by P&R, it is not surprising there is a greater emphasis on the Reformation and Post-Reformation eras than on earlier thought. It is also not unexpected that there are discussions of theologians in the Reformed tradition that will be less familiar to those who haven’t attended one of the Reformed seminaries. This is a volume rooted in a particular tradition. That being said, the selection of these figures to discuss helps illuminate the debates that were ongoing during the time under discussion. All authors make choices of what to include and elide. Gamble’s choices make perfect sense within his tradition and context.

I found reading this volume slowly in the evenings an enjoyable exercise. This is the sort of book that is best consumed in chunks if one is to read it from cover to cover. Even having studied historical theology and the trajectory of Western thought in multiple formats previously, I found new insights in Gamble’s analysis from time to time. Often I was reminded of ideas I had previously encountered.

The most helpful use of this book will be as a reference volume. It has been meticulously researched and points to a great deal of primary literature. At the same time, it is a synthesis of those primary sources that can provide an entry point for readers trying to understand the thought of a particular era. Gamble provides a toe hold for understanding the intellectual context and situation within the broad sweep of Christian history.

God’s People in the Western World will be a solid resource for decades to come. The analysis is fair, the prose is readable, the scope is comprehensive. This is a real accomplishment and well worth the investment for pastors, homeschoolers, Christian schools, and lay people simply trying to figure out the trajectory of Christian thought throughout generations.

NOTE: I was given a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.