Two Kingdom Theology is the Change We've Been Waiting For

Kevin DeYoung, over at DeYoung, Restless, and Reformed, has weighed two-kingdom theology and Kuyperianism in the balance and hopes for a middle ground in the following way:

I am loathe to be an apologist for the status quo, or to throw cold water on young people who want to see abortion eradicated or dream of kids in Africa having clean water. I don’t think it’s wrong for a church to have an adoption ministry or an addiction recovery program. I think changing structures, institutions, and ideas not only helps people but can pave the way for gospel reception.

Perhaps there is a–I can’t believe I’m going to say it–a middle ground. I say, let’s not lose the heart of the gospel, divine self-satisfaction through self-substitution. And let’s not apologize for challenging Christians to show this same kind of dying love to others. Let’s not be embarrassed by the doctrine of hell and the necessity of repentance and regeneration. And let’s not be afraid to do good to all people, especially to the household of faith. Let’s work against the injustices and suffering in our day, and let’s be realistic that the poor, as Jesus said, will always be among us. Bottom line: let’s work for change where God calls us and gifts us, but let’s not forget that the Great Commission is go into the world and make disciples, not go into the world and build the kingdom.

Is recovering the dignity of the sacred office (as opposed to every member ministry), returning to psalm-singing (as opposed to hymns or praise songs), or restoring the Sunday evening worship service simply preserving the status quo? Or is judging a Christian profession by one’s quiet and ordinary work rather than whether you are making a difference really so widely accepted that Kuyperian transformationalism is a welcome relief? If so, beam me up, Kevin.

For what it’s worth, White Horse Inn has posted responses to DeYoung and Kevin himself gets the last word.

Summer Reading

“I don’t read books, I write them.” The first time I said that I knew it didn’t sound good. And that was the point because it was actually more a joke on me than on those who haven’t written books. Historians do not write because they are necessarily wise. And the way historians write means that they have less time to read books they would prefer to ponder. Too often I’ve spent an evening with an Edwards, Buswell, Bushnell, or Beecher and had to pass on Epstein, Berry, Machen or Meilaender. Even worse, sometimes I’ve had to read what I’ve written.

Current duties – a volume on the history of the OPC to commemorate the denomination’s 75th anniversary – forced me to take a look at a piece written about a decade ago on Orthodox Presbyterians and secularization. It was entitled, “Reconciling Two Kingdoms and One Lord: Twentieth-Century Conservative Presbyterians and Political Liberalism in the United States,” and presented at a conference at the Vrijgemaakt seminary in Kampen sponsored by the Archives of the Free University.

The conclusion is reprinted below may complicate perceptions that the editors of the NTJ are not sufficiently on board with Vos and Van Til. What is even more interesting than the views of the editors is that Vos and Van Til can be read against each other, at least when it comes to understanding the saeculum.

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>. . . the OPC relied upon three separate doctrinal strands to maintain the integrity of the church and her witness in the face of political liberalism and its secularizing effects. First, J. Gresham Machen bequeathed to the OPC the Southern Presbyterian tradition of the spirituality of the church which put limits on church power while also preventing it from intervention in spheres beyond its domain, such as politics. Second, John Murray outlined the implications of divine sovereignty for public life when he affirmed the church’s duty to speak on civic affairs because God had ordained both the church and the magistrate and so ruled over each. Finally, Cornelius Van Til worked out the inferences of the sufficiency of Scripture when he asserted that Christ’s lordship over all things made the Bible relevant for all walks of life. These three doctrines have greatly shaped the way that American Calvinists have reacted to the de-Christianization of American society, as the example of the OPC demonstrates. Furthermore, the way Orthodox Presbyterians applied these doctrines appeared to vary according to whose interests or territory were at stake. When they needed to defend the prerogatives of the church or the independence of Christian schools, Orthodox Presbyterians have relied upon the sort of logic that undergirded Machen’s defense of the church’s spiritual mission. But when American society appeared to be growing more tolerant of immorality, usually defined on pietist terms that sees godlessness in certain forms of immoral behavior, then Orthodox Presbyterians turned to notions about God’s sovereignty or the Bible’s relevance to all walks of life for the work of the church and also for the regulation of public life.

This explanation of the theology at work in Orthodox Presbyterian responses to the secularization of American politics reveals that Reformed teaching on politics as it played out among conservative Presbyterians has not been sorted through systematically. Although political liberalism represents a tradition of state craft quite compatible with the separation of religious and public spheres implied by sphere sovereignty — a notion very similar to the spirituality of the church — American Calvinists have generally regarded the reduction of religious references in public life and the prevalence of certain kinds of worldliness in society as a betrayal of both divine sovereignty and biblical authority. Although God was still sovereign and the Bible was still true when Christ suffered the unjust penalty of dying on the cross, for the Orthodox Presbyterian sampled here the proof of God’s rule and biblical authority is only substantially compelling when righteousness and divine truth prevail in civic life. In other words, despite knowing cognitively that different standards apply for the city of God, i.e., the church, and the city of man, i.e., the state, the doctrines of divine sovereignty and biblical sufficiency have tended to take precedence over sphere sovereignty and the spirituality of the church. As such, conservative North American Calvinists like those in the OPC have often demanded from the state the same kind of obedience and truthfulness that Christ requires of his bride. . . .

. . . perhaps the most significant doctrine in the OPC’s theological arsenal for coping with secularization and political liberalism may be the Vossian one that teaches about the gradual and varied unfolding of redemptive history. If, as biblical theologians have argued, the church in the period between Christ’s first and second advents is a pilgrim people, wandering in the wilderness until Christ leads them upon his return into the promised land of the new heavens and the new earth, then Orthodox Presbyterians like pastor Davison could legitimately have thought about his life in places like New Jersey more like Midge Decter thought of hers in St. Paul. In his comments on the epistle to the Hebrews, Orthodox Presbyterian theologian, Richard B. Gaffin, Jr., builds upon the insights of Geerhardus Vos to argue that the eschatology of the New Testament implies that “there is no ‘golden’ age coming that is going to replace or even ameliorate these desert conditions of testing and suffering.” Gaffin adds that “no success of the Gospel, however great, will bring the church into a position of earthly prosperity and dominion such that the wilderness with its persecutions and temptations will be eliminated or marginalized.” This eschatological reality means that as long as Christ is absent from the church, her “final rest” cannot be located in temporal or earthly conditions. For this reason, the situation of Protestants in the United States is actually more similar to that of Jewish Americans than that of the founding fathers or the Puritans who set out to make America a “city on a hill.” In which case, if Orthodox Presbyterians had reflected on and followed the insights of Vos for public life, they might have come to evaluate political liberalism and secular society less like nativist Americans and more like immigrants to the United States.

Don't Bug Us

Which is another way of saying that back issues of the NTJ have been carefully pdf’ed and are beginning to be posted at the Back Issues page of this blog.  Many thanks to James H. Grant for this work, with an assist or two from Camden Bucey.

Taking Every Swiss Alp Captive?

Why isolation may be more in keeping with Calvinism than domination.

Inspiration in Denial

This was the proposed title for the piece (below) responding to Nelson Kloosterman’s series on Christ and culture for Christian Renewal in which he brands a Klinean two-kingdom outlook as “religious secularism.”  The essay appeared as a letter to the editor in the May 27th issue of CR on pages 5 and 9.  Thanks to the editors for giving so much space for a response.

The Reformed faith is an inspiring one. For this writer, few stories are as noble as that of J. Gresham Machen. Nor are death bed utterances as inspiring as his – “isn’t the Reformed faith grand!” Yet, the Reformed faith is not without its bumps in the road. Machen himself issued those inspiring words while under great pain from the pneumonia that took his life. No amount of inspiration could overcome that lethal disease short of penicillin – which had yet to be discovered. Nor could all the inspiration in the world overcome the repeated difficulties and set backs that Machen endured while trying to maintain and defend the Reformed faith in a liberal Presbyterian church.

Nelson Kloosterman would apparently have the readers of Christian Renewal believe they can have all the Reformed faith’s inspiration without any set backs. In his series, “The Pilgrim’s Pathway,” he has been particularly critical of what he terms “religious secularism” and highlights the views of Misty Irons, Meredith Kline and myself. “Religious secularism” is an unfortunate phrase that appears to be designed to alarm. Speaking for myself, “Reformed confessionalism” or “paleo-Calvinism” work much better for designating those who hold a two-kingdom point of view. Whatever terms are used, Kloosterman leaves readers with the impression that those who tell Christians that Christ’s lordship over their lives will be difficult, and will not achieve uniformity among Christians, let alone in a society consisting of believers and un-believers, is simply betraying the genius and heart of Reformed Christianity. Kloosterman defends an integrated morality, a unified world view, a comprehensive understanding of Christianity, all in attempt to do justice to Christ’s lordship. For him, the Bible has the Christian’s solutions, and Scripture equips believers to go into any arena with a Christian answer. Kloosterman admits that Reformed Christianity can sound triumphalist, but he does little to restrain it. Continue reading “Inspiration in Denial”

If the Bible Speaks to All of Life, Why Not the Confession?

I do not do Facebook, though I might sign up for MyFace. I am happily uninterested in Twitter, which as T. David Gordon has suggested, is what twits do. So using a blog to tell others about what I’m doing seems silly if not narcisistic.

With those qualifications out of the way, a recent speaking engagement at Grove City College (where I heard Gordon make a very compelling presentation on the need for caution in using technology that requires batteries and plugs) got me thinking about the world-and-life-viewitis that has reached epidemic proportions among Protestants. Most evangelical Protestant colleges these days are justifying their existence and identity by saying they provide a wholistic vision on learning that is grounded in the Christian faith. The Lordship of Christ, the authority of Scripture, even the cultural mandate come in for aid and comfort.

This ideal is an honorable one and springs from generally wholesome motives. Who would not want to see Christ honored in all aspects of the created order, and who would want to be unfaithful where Scripture has revealed God’s holy will?

There’s just one problem: the Bible doesn’t speak to all the arts and sciences, let alone whether incoming freshmen should receive a laptop or whether it should be an Apple or an IBM machine. In fact, the one place where Christ is revealed, the Bible, has very little to say about the curriculum of an undergraduate education. If we say that it does, we are in danger of putting the imaginations of men above the Word of God — that is, making the Bible say what we want it to say. Continue reading “If the Bible Speaks to All of Life, Why Not the Confession?”

Can This Co-Editorial Relationship be Saved?

The editors of the NTJ are big baseball fans.  They also root for teams that are rivals and whose fans generally hate each other.  For that reason it is profitable and even Christian to feel the love that National Review Online has assembled before the animosity of MLB’s season begins.  “For the Love of the Game” includes a brief tribute from one adoring fan to the Major League’s thirty franchises.  (BTW, the Mets bleep.)

Who Knew (!) Van Til Would be Hotter than Dabney and Nevin?

Richard Mouw, the president of Fuller Seminary, and long-time interlocuter in matters neo-Calvinist, has a very positive review in Christianity Today of the recent biography of Cornelius Van Til by NTJ co-editor, John Muether.   Mouw writes:

John Muether has done a particularly good job of making a scholar’s life interesting—typically a daunting challenge for the would-be biographer—and he has done it by portraying Van Til’s career in a larger-than-the-academy context. For one thing, the polemics for which Van Til is well known were not simply arguments that are “contained” within the academy. Michael Hakkenberg made this point nicely in an essay he once published about Van Til’s rather acrimonious dispute with the philosopher Gordon Clark.  The subject at issue was the doctrine of “divine incomprehensibility.” But as Hakkenberg observes, there was more going on here than a simple theological argument. The struggle had something to do with who would control the theological direction of the Orthodox Presbyterian denomination. Clark’s position had affinities with certain non-Calvinist elements in the broader evangelical movement, while Van Til insisted on the kind of stark contrast between divine and human knowledge that would reinforce a uniquely Calvinst piety and ecclesiology. Van Til was victorious in the ecclesiastical struggle, with Clark departing for other environs.

He adds:

Those of us—and I consider myself in this crowd—who are more tempted in the commonness direction would do well to learn from a nice little vignette that Muether relates. Toward the end of his life, Van Til returned to Grand Rapids and visited one of his Calvin philosophy professors, William Harry Jellema, who was close to death. Jellema was very much a common-grace type Kuyperian, well known for his expressed hope that he would meet Socrates in heaven. He and Van Til had long parted ways on many key philosophical and theological matters. On this occasion, however, Van Til thanked his former teacher for what he had learned from Jellema. Jellema responded: “Yes, but Kees, it was you who at times kept us from going too far.” Jellema is not the only one with that kind of indebtedness to Van Til.

High marks for Van Til and Muether from a PCUSA neo-Calvinist.  Those who haven’t bought the book should.  And don’t forget the other biographies in the series.