Does Aaron Renn Really Think Elites Will Save Us?

Trying to situate Aaron Renn on the landscape of twenty-first century American Protestantism is a tall order. The Indiana native, who consults on urban planning and opines about churches, describes himself as a writer who covers “the human, cultural, and institutional foundations of American flourishing during an era of transition.” (Full disclosure: as someone who considers himself an urbanist, I regularly read and benefit from Renn’s social media links and commentary on urban planning, politics, and economies.)

Renn came to the attention of many with his First Things article (Feb. 2022) on the three worlds of evangelicalism, a scheme that identified 2014 as the beginning of an era when being Christian in America was no longer an asset but a defect. This was around the same time that he helped to found “American Reformer” as an outlet for aggressively Protestant reflection about politics and society. Over time, “American Reformer” became a platform for pronouncements on Christian nationalism, though Renn never seemed to embrace the label. His outlook about the importance of Christians establishing culture-shaping institutions is clearly compatible with Christian nationalism but Renn himself has not waded into those turbulent and sometimes dirty waters.

One other part of Renn’s body of work so far to attract attention is his lament about the absence of evangelical elites. Again at First Things (where the editor, Rusty Reno, features an odd selection of Protestant writers), Renn wrote the provocative article, “The Problem with the Evangelical Elite” (December 2025). The problem comes at readers fast and hard in Renn’s opening paragraph:

The problem with the evangelical elite is that there isn’t one. All too few evangelical Christians hold senior positions in the ―culture-shap―ing domains of American ―society. Evangelicals don’t run movie studios or serve as editors in chief of major newspapers or as presidents of elite universities. There are no evangelicals on the Supreme Court. There are hardly any leading evangelical academics or artists. There are few evangelicals at commanding heights of finance. The prominent evangelicals in Silicon Valley can be counted on one hand. There are not even many evangelicals leading influential conservative think tanks and publications, despite the fact that evangelicals are one of the largest and most critical voting blocs in the Republican coalition.

Renn goes on to offer an explanation for the problem. Evangelicals stress soul-winning over vocation and lack institutions that incubate leaders in business, law, technology, and higher education. But his analysis comes with a reason to be concerned about the lack of evangelical elites. Renn views the United States as a society coded Protestant. Consequently, for the country to go forward in a healthy way, it needs people who come from America’s historic religious heritage. “America needs Protestants to take on the leadership burdens of society,” he writes, “and in view of the dramatic decline of mainline Protestantism, they must come from evangelical ranks.”

Renn does concede the presence of evangelicals in certain elite positions but deems this inadequate for providing real leadership. The one place where evangelicals produce “elites” is in Christian ministry. Renn writes, “evangelicals overwhelmingly fund and support people who focus on Christian ministry” and create “pathways to sponsorship for missionaries, church planters, and campus ministers.” They do not do the same for “people engaged in secular domains and activities.” Renn used Grok to supply the receipts. When asked about the top evangelical leaders, AI supplied the names of “fifteen evangelical elites” that was “100 percent pastors and other professional Christians.” A similar query for Roman Catholics produced a list where only 20 percent were clergy.

Renn’s nonchalance about evangelical pastors and theologians may explain why he pays so little attention to the communions that belong to NAPARC. He does not say this explicitly, but it comes through in the people he does interview on his podcast. He has hosted leaders of the Reconquista in mainline Protestantism, both Jake Dell (another contributor to First Things), a Congregationalist in Woodbury, Connecticut, and Richard Ackerman of Redeemed Zoomer fame, as an apologist for the PCUSA. In fact, when Rusty Reno interviewed Renn as a follow up to his article on evangelical elites for the First Things podcast, the Hoosier consultant praised the Social Gospel, political Progressives, and the mainline churches that spread those movements a century ago. This is not meant to score points by brushing Renn with the guilt of Progressivism and the Social Gospel. It is, though, an observation that suggests Renn has a soft spot for Protestants whose theology and practice did not measure up even as they transformed (for a time) American society.

NAPARC does register occasionally on Renn’s radar. At “American Reformer,” Renn wrote positively about two PCA pastors who have articulated a “positive vision for America.” One is C. R. Wiley’s First Presbyterian Church of Battle Ground, Washington. Renn observes that this church is “creating well-paying jobs and paying taxes, turning vacant downtown buildings into a farmers’ market and bakery, and building an architecturally significant new church that provides needed community and conference-center space.” More than a church, First Presbyterian is also building community.

The other NAPARC exception is the exceptional Tim Keller. Renn argues that Keller’s book Every Good Endeavor explains the doctrine of vocation in a way that “comprehends the exercise of power—that validates and valorizes people who reform public policy, invent new technologies, become presidents of elite universities, acquire major media properties or foundations, organize research teams, or serve as Supreme Court justices.”

Renn also credits Keller’s last white paper, “The Decline and Renewal of the American Church,” with calling for the “creation of a think tank, the endowment of chairs at top universities, the creation of grants for young Christian scholars, and the establishment of a Christian equivalent to the Federalist Society.” This is the sort of infrastructure necessary to cultivate evangelical elites. In his “American Reformer” article, Renn added “people today could learn from figures like Keller, who built an influential institution grounded in an expansive vision of the future.” The New York City PCA pastor was doing what Protestant leaders “have done throughout our national history,” namely, created “the institutions and norms that are absent today.”

What is especially odd about Renn’s reflections on Protestant churches and American society is that the institution-building conservative Protestants performed after liberalism and the Social Gospel captured the mainline denominations – creating seminaries, denominations, colleges, magazines, publishing companies – don’t register on Renn’s elite Protestant meter. Of course, they should not because these conservative Protestant institutions are not producing the leaders of Silicon Valley or qualifying for nominations to the U.S. Supreme Court. But for a man who pays attention to institutions, it is surprising that Renn pays so little to the institutions that comprise NAPARC — the very institutions that shaped Renn’s beloved Keller. Instead, he himself starts new institutions like “American Reformer.”

The other odd part of Renn’s institutional analysis is a failure to see where churches becoming leaders in the community leads. This is a lesson that ChristNats should also consider. The mainline churches a century ago abandoned the teaching of orthodox pastors and theologians who were not obvious leaders in their communities but leaders in the church, charged with trying to remain true to the teachings of Scripture and the practices of their communions. What led to the failure of Protestantism in the United States at elite levels was the loss of Protestant faith at elite levels. Mainline Protestants remained moral and culturally Protestant (especially in opposition to Roman Catholicism and in support of American exceptionalism). But in the words of H. L. Mencken, they tried “to get rid of all the logical difficulties of religion” and were left with “ a row of hollow platitudes, as empty as of psychological force. . . as so many nursery rhymes.”

Aaron Renn is a smart fellow and well worth reading about urban planning, economic development, rents, architecture, traffic rotaries, and mass transit, but he has apparently yet to consider the paradox that haunts Christianity. Christ taught in Matthew 16:25: “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” That verse need not relegate Christians to a perpetual underclass of underachievers. But Christ’s words suggest a paradoxical relationship between Christian devotion and cultural success that moved John Newton to write in his famous hymn, “Glorious Things of Thee Are Spoken”:

Fading is the worldling’s pleasures,
all his boasted pomp and show;
solid joys and lasting treasures
none but Zion’s children know.


Every honest student of church history has seen near term success turn into fool’s gold of apostasy. Surely, Renn could offer a few warnings about the dangers of elite Christianity.

The Twists and Turns of Doing the Reading (Part Two)

Part one is here.

In the seventh chapter of The Case for Christian Nationalism, Stephen Wolfe tries really hard to sound like David VanDrunen. That is, he traffics strongly – two lanes worth – in the two-kingdom distinction between Christ’s rule as creator and redeemer. 2kers employ that distinction to elaborate how Christ’s rule over the state is different from his rule over the church even if both governments derive their power from the same Lord.

This distinction between creation and redemption, between civil authority and church power, also often explains 2kers’ willingness to affirm the legitimacy of civil authorities who are not professing Christians. Because pagans and Christians both use natural law to govern society, requiring civil magistrates to be Christian shows hesitation about the integrity of the creational and redemptive spheres, not to mention having doubts about Christ’s capacity to rule the civil sphere through the magistrates he providentially appoints.

These distinctions and worries inform Wolfe’s discussion of “The Christian Prince.” He sounds the most 2k when he quotes Calvin and Rutherford approvingly. Calvin distinguishes between one government which pertains to eternal life (spiritual) and the other which “pertains only to civil institutions and the external regulations of manners.” [301] Rutherford echoes Calvin when he contrasts civil and spiritual power. The civil authority is “coactive by the Sword, the other free, voluntary by the Word.” [303] Wolfe carries this distinction forward when he insists that “no ecclesiastical institution wields civil-like power over itself or over its members.” Churches are subject to civil authorities in such matters as building codes and emergency orders. But the church’s divine ministry – preaching, the sacraments, church discipline – “are outside the civil jurisdiction.”

Those distinctions between earthly and eternal matters, between repairing potholes and baptizing babies, are ones that Wolfe tries to explain and affirm. He acknowledges that discussions of church and state cannot escape 2k’s host of contrasts – “civil/spiritual, natural/gracious, earthly/heavenly, power/grace, or outward/inward.” He does not include sacred/secular but it is another in the 2k toolkit, however much Kuyperians have demeaned the distinction with the bumper-sticker phrase, “every square inch.” (Don’t the Dutch use the metric system?)

But Wolfe ties himself in knots when he tries to find ways for the Christian Prince to order civil affairs so that his subjects will – trigger warning – gain eternal life. For instance, he writes, “Christ’s mediatorial reign does extend to all things in a way, in that all things ought to be ordered to the spiritual kingdom.” He adds that the civil kingdom, “by its nature, is obligated to order the people to the things of eternal life” and those things are only found in “Christ’s spiritual kingdom.” For this reason, Christ’s “spiritual reign extends to the civil kingdom.” “Christ as spiritual Head of his church has instituted what the civil kingdom ought to order itself to.” [306]

At that point, Wolfe takes away the 2k that he had previously offered by way of Calvin and Rutherford. Instead of keeping the distinctions between creation and redemption intact, Wolfe collapses them.

Maybe the best example comes a page later after trying to give the civil kingdom spiritual significance. He does so by distinguishing Christians as church members versus Christians as the people of God:

Since the spiritual kingdom does not possess civil power, the civil kingdom cannot arise out of the spiritual kingdom. Nor does the civil kingdom arise out of the visible church (strictly speaking), for the visible church is the externalized spiritual kingdom. Civil power is indeed divine in origin but still natural to man as man. It is an instrument of human institutions. It originates in God, the creator, and is devolved through human consent.

So far, so 2k.

Hence, a Christian people can erect a civil kingdom, though not as the visible church but as the people of God. It is worth citing Franciscus Junius again: ‘For to the extent that we may be Christians, we do not cease being humans, but we are Christian human beings.’ A civil kingdom, instituted by a group of the people of God, is fundamentally human, follows natural principles, and possesses the same kind of civil power as all civil kingdoms. Yet, as I’ve repeatedly stressed, the fact that it is fundamentally human does not (like the family) preclude it from being Christian.

That last series of sentences reveals the main problem. Wolfe can acknowledge the legitimacy of “all civil kingdoms,” Christian or not, because their origins are creational or natural. But simply leaving civil authority on the relatively stable basis of the created order is not sufficient for Wolfe who wants – you may have heard – a Christian civil government (or nation). For that reason, he equivocates — just because the government formed by Christians is fundamentally human and natural does not mean it cannot be Christian.

This is a problem as the heart of Wolfe’s proposal. The civil government’s true purpose really is what is unusual if not controversial about Wolfe’s argument. He grants to the Christian prince a Christian mission:

The Christian prince is a civil ruler (as divinely ordained in nature) who possess and uses powers (both civil and interpersonal) to order his people to commodious temporal life and to eternal life in Christ.

That is Wolfe’s own definition. He adds, “if the prince must order his people to eternal life (by natural duty), and eternal life is attained only in Christ, the prince ought to order his people to eternal life in Christ.” Wolfe explains that the prince does this by laws, custom, personal example – not through word and sacrament.

This is a view of the prince that has no basis in the New Testament. Paul and Peter understood that the pagan emperors were divinely appointed to administer the laws of nature, but they would have been gobsmacked to think the Roman governors, Jewish kings, or Rome’s emperors were called to direct people to eternal life.

Wolfe invokes Calvin’s preface to the Institutes where he appeals to Francis I, King of France, to ensure that God’s glory and truth be preserved on earth. What Wolfe does not do is cite exchanges between Calvin and Geneva’s city government. When Calvin went beyond what the Christian councilors wanted on powers of excommunication, the Christian magistrates of Geneva told Calvin to take a hike.

The question Wolfe needs to answer is how he comes up with the idea that civil government’s purpose is to direct people to eternal life. Is it because he needs all things in life to be explicitly devout and reassuring? It is because he has lost confidence in the church as the means of carrying out the plan of salvation? Is it simply a function of the status envy that haunts members of NAPARC churches when they realize how small and marginal their denominations are?

Whatever the reason, the Christian prince that Wolfe defines and advocates would have been inconceivable to Jesus and the apostles for accomplishing the Great Commission.

The Twists and Turns of Doing the Reading (Part One)

Christian nationalists (hereafter ChristNats) tell us that the modern church has lost its way, not on the gospel or worship (though I wish they’d pay attention to the songs Protestants sing). Contemporary Presbyterians, ChristNats tell us, have lost the teaching of the Reformed churches on politics. Dating the instance of this loss can be tricky.

Did it happen with the American Founding, which many scholars associate with Lockean liberalism? Even if the American instance of political liberalism was a break with Christendom, ChristNats insist that the Founders were aggressively Protestant. That means that for most of the nineteenth century America still had a Christian government even though Covenanters were dissatisfied and wanted an amendment to the U.S. Constitution to make it truly Christian.

Sometimes ChristNats say positive things about Progressives, mainline Protestants, and the Social Gospel because those Americans were still trying for a Christian government.

This chronology leads many ChristNats to locate the origins of American Presbyterians’ loss of political moxie in the period after World War II, the so-called POSTWAR consensus (“postwar” capitalized because the United States has been involved in many wars resulting in many “POSTWAR!!!” eras).

Whatever the timing, ChristNats insist that contemporary Presbyterians “do the reading” of older Protestant theologians on politics and government. Such immersion in the sources will awaken people in the churches to a truly Christian understanding of government and ideally lead to a healthier society. Substituting Christian politics for POSTWAR liberalism will restore order, decency, and stability at least to the United States if not to all countries where Protestantism was the dominant faith.

This way of framing of Christian Nationalism – as the product of having done did the reading – could well confuse readers of Stephen Wolfe who was the first out of the blocks with a case for a recovery of Christian politics. His 2022 book, The Case for Christian Nationalism ignited discussions that prompted the PCA to commission a report on Christian nationalism. In the run-up to the 2026 General Assembly, Wolfe along with Zachary Garris and Sean McGowan wrote Report on Reformed Christian Politics in which the authors provided greater precision and historical examples in support of Wolfe’s 2022 book. Both of these publications promise instruction about a proper understanding of government based on Protestant sources older than the corruptions introduced by twentieth-century Presbyterians cooking, like frogs in the kettle, of American liberalism.

What is striking about this recent explanation of traditional Protestant politics is how difficult it is to understand. If someone wanted a guide to an unfamiliar subject, the teacher might use a primer or basic guide that walked a student through the elementary categories before subsequent lessons handling conceptually challenging material.

This relatively simple approach is exactly what readers find in the Westminster Confession chapter twenty-three on the civil magistrate, whether the 1646 original or the 1788 revision. The four paragraphs outline the foundational truths of Reformed politics as follows:

  1. 23.1 – God ordains civil government and gives it the means of enforcing law.
  2. 23.2 – Christians may lawfully serve as civil magistrates.
  3. 23.3 – Civil magistrates may not conduct religious activities but should protect the church or churches.
  4. 23.4 – Christians are obligated to pray for and submit to civil magistrates even if officials do not profess Christianity.

Each of the confession’s paragraphs say more, but the basic outline is straightforward. It explains where the authority of civil government comes from (God), reassures that Christians may actually bear the sword if called to serve in government, distinguishes the godly origins of the magistrate from the church’s spiritual responsibilities, and calls for Christians to be good subjects. In other words, God grants the sword, Christians may wield the sword, the sword is not redemptive, and believers are obligated to submit to the sword.

Some political theorists may quibble with the outline. But it is clear. And it represents the way seventeenth-century English and Scottish Protestants distilled their thoughts about government when speaking to fellow Christians in the pews and in Parliament. It is, in other words, a decent introduction for those who have not done the reading.

Compare this outline then to what Stephen Wolfe produced in the 2026 Report on Christian Politics. Keep in mind that in the book’s first chapter, Wolfe tries to clarify his argument from the 2022 Case for Christian Nationalism. As the introduction to Report explains, this “chapter, in part, is a philosophical argument for our main proposition: that civil government must promote true religion. The author grounds this claim in nature and follows the proper principia of practical philosophy (viz., nature and reason) while also demonstrating how revealed theology further specifies political conclusions, making possible a distinctly Christian politics that promotes the Christian religion.”

That is quite a wind up.

Here is the pitch, or the subheadings of the first chapter, “Reformed Political Theory”:

I. Distinguishing Theology, Ethics, Politics

II. The Definition of Politics

III. The Fundamental Principles of Civil Order and Common and Natural
A. Commonness
B. Nature and Grace
C. Natural Religion as Necessary to Commonwealths
D. The Magistrate’s Cognizance of True Religion
E. Civil Powers over Pastors
F. The Magistrate as Mediator
G. Civil Law

IV. Natural Affection
A. Affection, Duty, Action
B. Does Grace Relativize Nature?
C. Brothers and Sisters in Christ
D. How Grace Does Not Relativize Nature

V. Civil Power is Granted to Rulers Solely by the Consent of the People
A. Consent
B. Nations are Real
C. Nationalism

VI. Civil Politics as a Prudential Art
A. Religious Toleration
B. Christian America

That, as the kids used to say, is a mouthful.

Wolfe’s outline is also several steps removed from the basic categories of seventeenth-century Protestants. That could sound like a gotcha – see! SEE??!! – Wolfe is not a confessional Protestant. Since he is not an officer of a Reformed communion, we have no reason to expect him to hold to the Westminster Standards or Three Forms of Unity.

But what we might reasonably expect is for a recovery of Protestant politics to start with Reformed Politics 101, not with a seminar in political philosophy with flourishes of theological reflections on nature and grace, creation and redemption.

Perhaps the Westminster Divines were thinking all of Wolfe’s thoughts before him when they came up with the basic categories on the civil magistrate to be subscribed by church officers. Perhaps they would agree with Wolfe on “Commonness” or the “Magistrate’s Cognizance of True Religion” before then boiling down ideas about civil government for a confession of faith.

But chances are that Wolfe may be guilty of imbibing too much of the POSTWAR!!! consensus that he laments. If so, the cause of such error stems from spending too much time in graduate school and learning the ways that political theorists, steeped in the ways of American higher education downstream from the POSTWAR!!! consensus.

Wolfe was not wrong to go to graduate school. He is certainly not wrong to bring his training to bear on debates about Christian government and social decay. But his proposals are hardly thinking political thoughts after Althusius and Rutherford. The Case for Christian Nationalism and the Report on Christian Politics have a lot of twenty-first-century fingerprints on them. If Wolfe and other ChristNats want to recover the sources, then why not try to figure out why the Westminster Divines ordered their thoughts about the civil magistrate the way that they did?

Machen Day 2026: Just Say No to Christian Government Schools

Christian nationalists do not seem to consider that Christian magistrates or the laws that they write and enforce could ever have unintended consequences. If the advocates of Christian government ever read about the PREWAR consensus, the period that runs from 1870 to 1940, not only might they encounter Machen, the Presbyterian controversy, Progressivism, and liberal Presbyterianism, they might also have second thoughts when pining for a Christian government and laws that support Christian norms.

One example of Christian government encouraging religion for the public good is prayer and Bible reading in public schools. For some Protestants, these practices look wholesome and straightforward: a little dip into the Bible and a prayer at the beginning of the school day; what could possibly go wrong?

Machen supplied an answer:

I think I am just about as strongly opposed to the reading of the Bible in state-controlled schools as any atheist could be.

For one thing, the reading of the Bible is very difficult to separate from propaganda about the Bible. I remember, for example, a book of selections from the Bible for school reading, which was placed in my hands some time ago. Whether it is used now I do not know, but it is typical of what will inevitably occur if the Bible is read in public schools. Under the guise of being a book of selections for Bible-reading, it really presupposed the current naturalistic view of the Old Testament Scriptures.

But even where such errors are avoided, even where the Bible itself is read, and not in one of the mistranslations but in the Authorized Version, the Bible still may be so read as to obscure and even contradict its true message. When, for example, the great and glorious promises of the Bible to the redeemed children of God are read as though they belonged of right to man as man, have we not an attack upon the very heart and core of the Bible’s teaching? What could be more terrible, for example, from the Christian point of view, than the reading of the Lord’s Prayer to non-Christian children, as though they could use it without becoming Christians, as though persons who have never been purchased by the blood of Christ could possibly say to God, ‘Our Father, which art in Heaven’? The truth is that a garbled Bible may be a falsified Bible; and when any hope is held out to lost humanity from the so-called ethical portions of the Bible apart from its great redemptive core, then the Bible is represented as saying the direct opposite of what it really says. (On the Necessity of the Christian School)

Somehow Christian nationalists would have us believe that even of public school superintendants might garble the Bible, the Speaker of the House or the Secretary of State will not?

To borrow a line from Harry Emerson Fosdick, “what incredible folly.”

Christian Church (not Christian Nation) even in the Psalms?

After listening to Chris Gordon and Brad Isbell talk about Christian nationalism and two-kingdoms theology (where it did sound like Chris said “R two Gay” instead of “R two K”), I was surprised to read Martin Luther this morning on Psalm 87. That Psalm reads:

1 On the holy mount stands the city he founded;
    the Lord loves the gates of Zion
    more than all the dwelling places of Jacob.
Glorious things of you are spoken,
    O city of God. Selah

Among those who know me I mention Rahab and Babylon;
    behold, Philistia and Tyre, with Cush
    “This one was born there,” they say.
And of Zion it shall be said,
    “This one and that one were born in her”;
    for the Most High himself will establish her.
The Lord records as he registers the peoples,
    “This one was born there.” Selah

Singers and dancers alike say,
    “All my springs are in you.”

Here is how the two-kingdom Luther introduced the Psalm:

The 87th psalm is a prophecy of the Holy Christian Church, that it shall be a city as wide as the earth is, and in it shall be born Ethiopians, Egyptians, Babylonians, Philistines, residents of Tyre, and people of other lands and tongues. This shall all happen through the Gospel, which shall preach marvelous things of God, namely the knowledge of God, how one may come to God, be freed from sin, and be saved from death, through Christ. And the worship of God in this city shall also be singing and dancing, that is, they will proclaim, praise, and thank God’s grace with joy. In that city, no Moses shall plague and torment us with his Law.

Here is a sixteenth-century two-kingdom advocate, not someone from the 1990s reacting to theonomy, reading the city of God in the Old Testament and identifying it not with empire, kingdom, or nation but with the church. Of course, Luther needed a Christian magistrate (a Roman Catholic one, to boot). Without one he would have been executed. But his thoughts were on matters other than a Christian politics when looking for the kingdom of God.

What may be especially upsetting to those who subscribe recent versions of Christian nationalism is Luther’s throwing down a welcome mat at the door of the church to all tribes and ethnicities. It sure must seem odd to think of the Christian church as multi-ethnic and multi-racial when some insist that ethnic homogeneity is necessary for a Christian nation.

The jab at Moses’ law could, however, confirm the anti-nominan reputation of two-kingdom proponents. No one’s perfect.

Summer 2023 NTJ Available (pdf)

To repeat, this is not a typo. The Summer 2023 issue is now available at Oldlife.org. Huzzah? Maybe not.

In it, readers will find a case for shorter (8-10 years) pastorates as opposed to the increasingly common one of decades long tenures for pastors. Here is an excerpt:

In lengthy pastoral tenures a congregation becomes so comfortable with their minister (and vice versa) that the identity of the place has more to do with the people in this particular setting than with the denomination. Such a situation makes it harder to find a successor to the long-term pastor. A congregation might need to conduct a lengthy search to find that one person who has just the right gifts for this group of Christian. At that point, the congregation might well forget the nature of the ministry according to the common standards of the denomination. They might want “our guy” more than, for instance, a generic Presbyterian pastor who can do all the things that a man trained for the Reformed ministry is supposed to do. The congregation might forget what it means to belong to a certain communion because it functions largely within its own local context with its own pastor. A pastoral search could then depend more on personal qualities than on the demands of presbytery and the denomination’s corporate witness.

Conversely, expectations for relatively short pastorates, say from five to seven years, likely nurture a sense of belonging to a wider communion in which ideally all of the ministers should be able to serve in any congregation. Instead of building up a kind of co-dependency between minister and congregation thanks to a long tenure, a series of medium-term calls may encourage church members to deepen their membership in the broader communion beyond the congregation.

Gemini AI is More Reliable than Chat GPT: Here’s Why

Looks like the folks at Google have a better read on two-kingdoms theology and Christian nationalism than those at Microsoft. When you ask Chat GPT “which is a greater threat to American society Christian nationalism or two kingdom theology? here’s what you get.

ChatGPT

Determining which is a greater threat to American society, Christian nationalism or two kingdom theology, is a nuanced question as it involves various perspectives and considerations.

  1. Christian Nationalism: This ideology intertwines Christianity with patriotism, often asserting that the United States is a “Christian nation” and advocating for policies and laws based on Christian principles. Critics argue that it can lead to exclusionary practices, discrimination against minority religions, and a blurring of the lines between church and state, potentially undermining religious freedom and social cohesion.
  2. Two Kingdom Theology: This theological perspective emphasizes a separation between the kingdom of God (spiritual matters) and the earthly kingdom (secular matters). Proponents argue that it helps maintain religious integrity while engaging in societal affairs. However, critics suggest that it may lead to disengagement from social issues and a lack of accountability for addressing societal injustices.

The assessment of which is a greater threat depends on various factors such as how these ideologies are interpreted and practiced, their influence on policies and actions, and their impact on social harmony and justice. Christian nationalism, with its potential for exclusionary practices and erosion of secular principles, may be viewed by some as posing a more immediate threat to pluralistic societies like the United States. However, two kingdom theology’s potential for disengagement from societal issues could also be seen as a challenge, particularly in addressing pressing social injustices.

Ultimately, both ideologies have their risks and potential impacts, and the assessment of their relative threat to American society may vary depending on one’s perspective and values. It’s essential to engage in critical dialogue and evaluation of these ideologies’ implications to foster a more inclusive and just society.

At Gemini this is the answer your receive:

Two Kingdom Theology is generally not considered a threat to American society. In fact, it’s a concept used by some Christians to navigate the relationship between their faith and civil authority.

Christian nationalism, on the other hand, can be seen as a threat because it blends Christian identity with American national identity. This can lead to policies that favor one religion over others, or a belief that America is inherently superior to other nations.

Here’s a breakdown of why Christian nationalism is considered more concerning:

  • Exclusionary: It can lead to discrimination against those who don’t adhere to a specific Christian belief system.
  • Erosion of Democracy: It can lead to a push for policies that reflect a specific religious view, rather than the will of the people.
  • National Chauvinism: It can breed a sense of American superiority that can be harmful to international relations.

Two Kingdom Theology, while it might be debated in its theological applications, focuses on maintaining separate spheres of influence for the Church and the State. This can promote a peaceful coexistence between religion and government.

It’s important to note that these are generalizations. There are variations within both Christian nationalism and Two Kingdom Theology.

Christian Patriotism Afterglow

Sparring about Christian nationalism appears to have wound down but since we continue to live in this great land of political liberty — bruised and bloody as it may be — another post about the American Founding may keep the fires of freedom burning. This post also has a Christian connection since it relates to recent debates at the Orthodox Presbyterian Church’s General Assembly about a modern English version of the Westminster Confession and Catechisms. If the Standards may be updated, what about the Declaration of Independence?

The man who led the charge (as pointed out here a few years ago) was H. L. Mencken. The reasons he gave had to do with the severe abridgements of freedom during the reign of the Presbyterian President, Woodrow Wilson thanks to World War I. (Christian nationalists, beware of what you wish.)

Mencken explained his modern version this way:

The following attempt to translate the Declaration of Independence into American was begun eight or ten years ago, at the time of of my first investigations into the phonology and morphology of the American vulgate. I completed a draft in 1917, but the publication was made impossible by the Espionage act, which forbade any discussion, however academic, of proposed changes to the canon of the American Koran. In 1920 I resumed the work and have since had the benefit of the co-operation of various other philologists, American and European. But the version, as it stands, is mine. That such a translation has long been necessary must be obvious to every student of philology. And this is Better Speech Week.

The great majority of Americans now speak a tongue that differs materially from standard English, and in particular from the standard English of the eighteenth century. Thus the text of the Declaration has become, in large part, unintelligible to multitudes of them. What, for example, would the average soda-fountain clerk, or City Councilmen, or private soldier, or even the average Congressman make of such a sentence as this one: “He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures”? Or this one: “He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise”? Obviously, such sonorous Johnsonese is as dark to the plain American of 1921 as so much Middle English would be, or Holland Dutch. He may catch a few words, but the general drift is beyond him.

So Mencken figured that if he produced a modern version of the Declaration, the American people might become more concerned about encroachments by the government on their freedoms. Here is a portion of that revision:

When things get so balled up that the people of a country have to cut loose from some other country and go it on their own hook, without asking no permission from nobody, excepting maybe God Almighty, then they ought to let everybody know why they done it, so that everybody can see they are on the level, and not trying to put nothing over on nobody.

All we got to say on this proposition is this: First, you and me is as good as anybody and maybe a damn sight better; second, nobody ain’t got no right to take away none of our rights; third, every man has got a right to live, to come and go as he pleases, and to have a good time however he likes, so long as he don’t interfere with nobody else. That any government that don’t give a man these rights ain’t worth a damn; also people ought to choose the kind of government they want themselves, and nobody else ought to have no say in the matter. That whenever any government don’t do this, then the people have got a right to can it and put in one that will take care of their interests. Of course, that don’t mean having a revolution every day, like them South American coons and Bolsheviki, or every time some jobholder does something he ain’t got no business to do. It is better to stand a little graft, etc., than to have revolutions all the time, like them coons, Bolsheviki, etc., and any man that wasn’t a anarchist or one of them I. W. W.s would say the same. But when things gets so bad that a man ain’t hardly got no rights at all no more, but you might almost call him a slave, then everybody ought to get together and throw the grafters out, and put in new ones who won’t carry on so high and steal no much, and then watch them. This is the proposition the people of these Colonies is up against, and they have got tired of it, and won’t stand it no more. The administration of the present King, George III, has been rotten from the jump-off, and when anybody kicked about it he always tried to get away with it by strong-arm work. Here is some of the rough stuff he has pulled…

White Christian Nationalism for Urban Hipster Presbyterians?

Remember when some Presbyterians were quick to link a certain failed mass-shooter with theology in the OPC?

And remember also when critics of President Trump were quick to associate (in a fear-mongering way) the rhetoric of “the West” with white Christian nationalism?

Well, what do you do with someone who sits regularly under the ministry of a famous Presbyterian pastor in a major mega city and then writes this, for instance, about slavery?

the Times wants to reimagine the European version of America as founded on slavery and stained in every possible way by the continuing effects of slavery. This is a political project more than a historical one. Its unacknowledged goal is to taint all opposition to progressive political goals as rooted in the perpetuation of oppression, and perhaps to delegitimize America itself.

The 1619 Project overstates things a bit. Slavery does have lingering consequences, and the economic, cultural, and political history of the country does reflect the awful institution. But the 1619 Project also reduces the lives of African Americans to perpetual victimhood, and it ignores the glorious ideal of freedom in American history. It reverses the traditional conception of America as an exceptional land of liberty to conceive of it as an exceptional land of slavery and oppression.

Four centuries ago, almost every Englishman believed a piece of anti-Spanish propaganda called the “Black Legend.” It presented all Spaniards and all Catholics as uniquely, demonically evil, whose cruelty was proved not least by their barbaric treatment of the Indians. The 1619 Project creates a new kind of Black Legend, which casts America as uniquely, demonically evil.

The Times is calculating that Americans are already primed to believe this new Black Legend. They have been softened up by the pseudo-history of Howard Zinn, whose elaborately distorted vision in A People’s History of the United States has been swallowed whole by millions. (A nod of appreciation is due to Mary Grabar whose new book Debunking Howard Zinn is a long-overdue corrective to the Marxist storyteller.) Others are hoping the 1619 Project will flatten what is left of resistance to anti-American mythmaking in K-12 and college history courses. The new Black Legend is already comfortably ensconced in many of our high schools and colleges. The first book college students read very likely treats it as fact.

And what are we to make of the associations between preacher and worshiper when the latter writes this about Harvard University’s president’s failure to include western civilization as part of the institution’s academic mission?

What is completely absent is anything that connotes “civilization,” as in “western civilization” or “comparative civilizations.” Harvard once took this concept as central to its educational work. It has apparently fallen by the wayside, though it lingers in the names of some departments, as in “East Asian Languages and Civilizations” and “Archaeology and Ancient Civilization.”

There is food for thought in this observation. Why has civilization, especially Western civilization, slipped beneath the notice of Harvard’s current president? In considering the comings and goings of students across oceans and national borders, is “civilization” not a factor? Why do students from diverse parts of the “world” want to study in the West? In the United States? At Harvard? Might our civilization bear on their motives to travel so far and undertake the hardships of studying in a foreign culture?

Don’t be confused. I do not fault the author for these complaints about the direction of important institutions in the life of the United States. In fact, I believe he is right to raise these concerns.

What I do wonder about is why the #woke Presbyterians who think the United States is racist and Christian nationalist don’t take issue with the pastor and related congregation who would seem to be responsible for this conservative author’s sentiments? I mean, if you can connect the dots between the alt-right and Reformed Protestant covenant theology, can’t you also tie defenses of western civilization and the United States to urban hipster Presbyterianism?

A Federal Department of Sanctification?

Pastor Anyabwile is back to the pursuit of social justice with a series of posts, the most recent of which renders those not active in opposition to racism as complicit with previous generations’ sins:

The actual debate is about the extent to which the sins of previous generations still mark this generation, and, if so, whether people today will acknowledge and repent of it. What is in dispute is whether a mere claim to not being guilty of certain sins constitutes either repentance or innocence when the sins in view actually require active opposition and when we may be unaware of some sins (Ps. 19:12; 1 Cor. 4:4). The life the gospel produces ought to be actively anti-racist, anti-oppression, anti-family destruction, and so on.

How could Anyabwile leave out sexism and misogyny, or climate change? How can any American stand on that great day of judgment for sins covered in the national press?

One of his posts includes the point, not very controversial, that the gospel involves renovation of the Christian’s moral life:

…historically and at present we have an evangelical Christian church generally failing at the ethical half of the faith. That failure results from little teaching and inadequate understanding of gospel ethics, especially as it relates to the practice of justice on a range of issues.

The conservative and Reformed evangelical church receives a heavy dose of gospel doctrine (appropriately so) but not nearly enough discipleship in gospel duty. Its witness is being hurt by the latter (duty), not the former (doctrine). Or, to use Paul’s words to Timothy, there’s need for the church to “closely watch its life and doctrine.”

The social justice “debate” appears to me as a kind of spiritual and intellectual dissonance caused by some quarters of the church awakening to the ethical demands of God while other quarters resist that awakening or perceived excesses in it. From my vantage point, Christians pursuing justice are attempting to hold together evangel and ethic in renewed ways as they apply biblical texts and appropriate history. (I stress Christians here because I am not defending and am not a part of the large number of non-Christian things traveling beneath the banner of “social justice.”) To put it simply: Some Christians are trying to grow in their understanding and pursuit of Bible- and gospel-informed justice, while some other Christians are invested in protecting the gospel from threats they believe they see. My critique of the latter is that they appear to be severing evangel from ethic.

Here’s maybe not the but a thing: ethics is not justice. Ethics may not even be sanctification. But if social justice and supporting reform of the criminal justice system (which is desirable) is a form of sanctification, the good pastor has engaged in some serious baiting and switching.

Truth be told, the United States has a Department of Justice that is involved in much more than ethics:

To enforce the law and defend the interests of the United States according to the law; to ensure public safety against threats foreign and domestic; to provide federal leadership in preventing and controlling crime; to seek just punishment for those guilty of unlawful behavior; and to ensure fair and impartial administration of justice for all Americans.

Of course, recent controversies, from Russia to Missouri, have shown how flawed the execution of justice can be. But that’s the nature of society and justice in a fallen world. Heck, not even sanctification is entire in this life for the individual Christian.

So why does Pastor Anyabwile continue to talk about social justice in ways that indicate he is a Christian nationalist, that is, someone who thinks the United States should meet, not Jewish, Muslim, or Mormon norms for social life, but Christian ones?

Why not separate the church from the federal government and talk about ways to eliminate racism from national institutions on political grounds, rather than trying to turn political reform into the third use of the law?