The Blog of Brian Collins
Packer, J. I. Knowing God. IVP, 1973.
There is good reason that this book is considered a classic. It is an accessible introduction to the essentials of the Christian faith. A Christian with few books who mastered this one alongside his Bible would truly be a theologian in the older sense of theology: the science of living blessedly forever.
Logos 8 arrived earlier this month, and FaithLife (Logos’s parent company) was kind enough to send me a review copy. I’ve been using it for the past several weeks now, and what follows are a few of my favorite features along with some constructive criticism.
Something that I’ve long wished was part of Logos’s highlighting toolbox is the ability to draw lines between key words in a text. I frankly thought that feature would never come due to technical challenges, but the canvas tool makes it possible to do that and much more. Below is an example I produced fairly quickly using Canvas.
Logos’s own blog post about Canvas shows it being used for more creative, artistic purposes, but expect I’ll use it most often to structure and highlight a passage. Because of this, one feature I hope Logos adds in the future is the ability to use the custom highlighting palates that can be used in other resources within Canvas.
See this page for a video and some other Canvas examples.
One of the challenges with Logos is sifting through a large library of resources to find those most relevant for one’s present study. One way Logos has addressed this problem in the past has been through passage guides or exegetical guides.
Here are some examples from the passage guide:
Workflows take this concept to the next level and provide a click-through guide for how to study a passage. Here is the list of steps for the Passage Exegesis Workflow:
Within these steps, the workflow will direct users out to various resources:
Workflows are customizable, so if there are steps that you can do without or do without being prompted by the workflow, you can customize the process.
In addition to workflows that are focused on studying Scripture, Logos also included a workflow for praying Scripture. On the one hand, the process is simple enough that a workflow isn’t really needed, but part of the utility of the workflows is to teach people how to do something. I can also see using this workflow as a way to discipline myself to slow down and be more intentional in praying through Scripture.
For a video about workflows, see here.
Another new feature of Logos 8, and one to which I contributed, is the Lexham Survey of Theology. Information from this resource is also presented and expanded on in the theology guide.
The LST provides a brief definition of a theological topic followed by an entry which summarizes the topic. Key passages and recommended resources follow the entry. In general, I think the summaries are helpful, though there are some which, unfortunately, seem to argue for a viewpoint instead of surveying positions. I contributed entries relating to the themes of covenant and law and sought to provide a summary of viewpoints followed by suggested resources that represent the range of viewpoints on the topic.
I think the resource recommendations and the key passages may end up being the most useful part of this resource.
For a video about the theology guide, see here.
I use Logos on a Surface device, and, in general, it works well with touch. I’ve used the Logos mobile app on both iOS and Android, and while the mobile app is nice, I prefer the full-featured experience on my Surface.
In many ways, Logos 8 improves upon Logos 7 in the realm of touch. The new design for accessing the table of contents within resources is more touch-friendly, as are the new toggles for the interlinear and multiple resources views. However, while the main resources respond to touch, the interactives do not. This is frankly unacceptable. Windows devices have had touch for the past decade, and a program in which touch works only selectively is broken.
Similarly, the pen works everywhere in Logos–except with the notes feature. There is no place where pen functionality is more desirable within Logos. Furthermore, there is no reason why pen functionality should not work here. Microsoft provides the pane for pen input, and the Logos program should not care whether the text is coming from the pen input pane, from an onscreen keyboard, or from a hardware keyboard. It is the only program I have that does not recognize pen input. When a program does not function with a basic operating system feature that works with every other program, it is broken.
Logos 8 includes a number of other nice features. For instance, the Library now has a side panel with helpful filters. I find that I use this far more than I might have anticipated. In fact, if I were to organize this post by most used feature, this paragraph would be at the top of the post instead of at the bottom.
The homepage now includes a dashboard that fills up with the users own documents. The advertising is still present, but if you have enough docs on the dashboard, it is tucked away below your docs. This is better than the old homepage. I had my various prayer lists in the sidebar on the old homepage, but it seemed distracting to interact with them as a sidebar to blog posts and advertisements. At least for my workflow, the new homepage is better.
I’m generally happy with the new UI as well. While I did like the big book panel/icon that always appeared on the far left of a resource pane in the old design (and have to retrain myself to go to ellipses on the right of the screen instead of to the left of the screen to access the resource menu), I think the new design is better overall. It’s clearer which tab is active, and the icons within the tab make identifying resources in different tabs a bit easier.
My general assessment is that Logos 8 is a solid and substantial upgrade from Logos 7.
On Monday I presented a paper at the BJU Seminary symposium for Fall 2018 on Genesis 1:26-28. The paper is posted on the Theology in 3D website. I’m thankful for the opportunity to present the paper, and I welcome feedback.
I’m grateful to Dr. Ken Casillas for inviting me to present the paper and to Dr. Eric Newton for his insightful response.
Schreiner, Thomas R. Spiritual Gifts: What They Are and Why They Matter. Nashville: B&H, 2018.
This is an excellent brief introduction to spiritual gifts. The first part of the book presents wise pastoral counsel about what spiritual gifts are and how people should exercise them in the church. The latter part of the book is a brief, winsome defense of the cessationist position.
Schreiner had in the past held to the continuationist position. He comments about his change of mind: “What set me personally back on the road to cesssationism is this very matter of prophecy. I slowly became convinced that the idea that New Testament prophets were different in nature from Old Testament prophets was flawed. Instead, it is more convincing to say that New Testament prophets were infallible like Old Testament prophets” (loc 1681). Like Schreiner, I have always found this (rather than tongues) to be at the heart of the debate.
Schreiner argues that NT prophecy is infallible because there would need to be a clear indication in the NT if prophecy became fallible. To the contrary, the quotation of Joel 2:28 in the NT points to continuity. The NT warnings about false prophets point in the same direction. Second, Ephesians 2:20 teaches that the church was built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets. While Grudem argues that this should be interpreted as “the apostles who are prophets” (thus showing a distinction between infallible and fallible NT prophets), Schreiner notes that Grudem misapplies the Granville Sharp rule to make this claim. Third, the NT demands that prophecies be judged, and the standard laid out in Deuteronomy 18 is that true prophets and prophecies are without error. Fourth, Schreiner rejects that argument that Paul’s claim of apostolic authority over prophets shows that prophets could be in error. “The issue here isn’t whether the words of the prophets are mixed with error. Instead, the issue is whether one is a false prophet!” (loc. 1203). Fifth, Schreiner rejects the claim that the prophecy of Agabus in Acts 21 was in error, noting that Paul in Acts 28 indicates that it was not. Further, Schreiner observes, “if Agabus is judged to be in error, the same kind of judgment could be used to assess other texts which some claim have errors” (loc 1225).
With regard to tongues, Schreiner holds that Acts 2 defines tongues as xenoglossia. None of the following passages in Acts or 1 Corinthians demand that tongues be understood as glossolalia. Thus the claimed gift today is not the same thing as the gift of tongues as practiced in the New Testament.
PBS’s American Experience recently aired a two-hour program about eugenics: “The Eugenics Crusade: What’s Wrong with Perfect?”. It is well worth watching.
Eugenics is the textbook example of the problem with placing unquestioning trust in the latest scientific consensus. When Christians raised moral questions about embryonic stem cell research, they were admonished not to let faith stand in the way of progress and science.
Interestingly, Christians were viewed similarly when they raised objections to eugenics.
And it was when these self-identified liberal and modernist religious men abandoned bedrock principles to seek relevance in modern debates that they were most likely to find themselves endorsing eugenics. Those who clung stubbornly to tradition, to doctrine, and to biblical infallibility opposed eugenics and became, for a time, the objects of derision for their rejection of this most modern science.
Christine Rosen, Preaching Eugenics: Religious Leaders and the American Eugenics Movement (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004), 5.
Interestingly, the American Experience documentary did not identify this aspect of eugenics history. It did not distinguish between the social gospel ministers who embraced eugenics (Rosen, 17) and the conservatives who opposed it.
Indeed, the documentary makers framed the issue differently. They repeatedly emphasized that the proponents of eugenics promoted their ideas with religious fervor. Eugenics became to them a religion. The connection between religion and eugenics can even be seen in the title: “The Eugenics Crusade.” On the one hand, I have no problem with framing false ideologies in religious terms. They often are religious in nature. On the other hand, the documentary closed by claiming that better science debunked eugenics.
By eliding the religious opposition to eugenics, and by framing proponents of eugenics in terms of religion, the documentary created a narrative arc in which science triumphed over religion rather than presenting a narrative in which religious wisdom, if heeded, could have prevented oppression in the name of scientific consensus.
The worldview of the program also appeared in its handling of abortion. Abortion was never mentioned in the program. Margaret Sanger did make a brief appearance, but she was presented merely as promoting birth control. Her connection with eugenics, even specifically racist eugenics, was presented as a pragmatic way to promote the liberation of women through birth control. So instead of investigating the link between eugenics and abortion, the documentary seeks to distance them from each other.
The program does accurately convey the degree to which eugenics was in the mainstream of educated opinion for significant period of the early twentieth century, and it intends for viewers to be aghast that such ideas, and their implementation, were accepted so widely by Americans. I can only hope that in a future generation a PBS documentary on abortion will expect its audience to be aghast that abortion was mainstream.
I think this documentary is worth watching, but watch it with an awareness of how the creators’ worldview has shaped, and distorted, the story being told.
McGraw, Ryan. The Foundation of Communion with God: The Trinitarian Piety of John Owen. Profiles in Reformed Spirituality. Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage, 2014.
The Profiles in Reformed Spirituality are favorites. They are small books which fit easily into one’s hand or pocket. They begin with a brief biography, but the heart of the books are two-page selections from the featured theologian’s writings. The selections focus on personal piety and one’s walk with God. This volume concludes with a suggested plan for reading Owen’s works.
Watson, Thomas. The Ten Commandments. 1692; Reprinted, Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth, 1965.
This is the first book I would recommend buying on the Ten Commandments (although Udemans’ The Practice of Faith, Hope, and Love ranks with it). Since this book is derived from sermons it provides both exposition and application of the Decalogue.
As the second volume of Watson’s exposition of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, Watson’s book covers more than the Ten Commandments. He also discusses the questions that relate to sin, salvation, and the ordinances.
Wolters, Albert M. “Nature and Grace in the Interpretation of Proverbs 31:10-31.” Calvin Theological Journal 19, no. 2 (November 1, 1984): 153-166.
In this article, Wolters looks at how different views of the relation between nature and grace have affected the interpretation of Proverbs 31:10-31.
He observes that those who oppose grace to nature tend to allegorize this passage. This was common from Origen through the Middle Ages. Even interpreters who focused on the literal sense, like Nicholas of Lyra, took the allegorical understanding to be the literal sense of this passage. Since Toy, many critical interpreters who assume that ancient Israel held a nature against grace view claim the poem was originally secular.
In the 18th-20th centuries, Catholic writers give a grace above nature interpretation of this passage. On this reading, much of the passage deals with merely natural virtues, but at the end of the poem these are transcended by true fear of God.
Luther exemplifies the grace alongside nature view. Wolters notes that Luther was influential in ending the allegorical interpretation of the passage. But Luther still distinguished grace and nature in this marginal comment to his translation of the passage: “That is to say, a woman can live with a man honourably and piously and can with a good conscience be a housewife, but she must also, in addition and next to this, fear God, have faith and pray.”
Regarding a grace restores nature viewpoint, Wolters says, “Applied to the Song of Proverbs 31, this paradigm fosters an interpretation which looks upon the fear of the Lord as integral to the poem as a whole. Religion is not restricted to verse 30, but pervades the whole… Here the woman’s household activities are seen, not as something opposed to, or even distinct from, her fear of the Lord, but rather as its external manifestation.”
Wolters holds to the fourth view, but he is willing to grant that the “Valiant Woman as the personification of Wisdom—not in an allegorical sense, but in the sense of an earthly embodiment of what it means to be wise.”
In the reading that I’ve done on translation theory, I’ve noticed that there is a difference between biblical scholars whose understanding of translation lies largely in a study of linguistics and secular translators who are more literary in orientation.
Thus I found this paragraph in an LA Review of Books article about translation interesting and confirmatory:
St. Jerome famously suggested that one should translate secular works with a “sense for sense” rather than a “word for word” approach, while sacred texts should be approached literally, since “even the order of words” is divinely inspired. Contemporary translation theory in the West reflects this divide, with the positions of sacred and secular flipped. Eugene Nida, an influential force in Bible translation and a pioneer of modern translation studies, argued for finding “dynamic equivalences,” to secure the transmission of meaning across languages (he would sacrifice the letter for the spirit). Ostensibly secular theorists of literary translation like Antoine Berman, Lawrence Venuti, and Emily Apter, on the other hand, argue for translation practices that underscore the foreignness of the source text, and its resistance to assimilation by other cultures (they would risk the spirit for the letter).
V. Joshua Adams, “Translation Without Theory,” LA Review of Books (Oct 7, 2018).
While recognizing that Jerome is probably not saying that biblical translators should maintain the word order of the original Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek texts (seeing as he did not follow that practice in his own translation work) and that even within a particular translation of the Bible, translators operate on a continuum between formal and functional translations, my sympathies are with the secular theorists of literary translation who argue for maintaining the foreignness of a text.
I sympathize with the literary side of this debate rather than with the linguists because it seems that the linguists sometimes operate too mechanically. The Bible is a literary book that communicates by literary form. For instance, in Genesis 40:15 the translation “dungeon” is not technically inaccurate. A “dungeon” is a pit-like prison. But the more formal translation “pit” is better because it picks up on the literary connection between Genesis 40:15 and 37:24. (And, if Joseph is using the term “pit” figuratively, then dungeon may not be the most accurate translation.)
This is not to say that there is no room for niche translations that bridge the cultural gap for some readers. But one’s standard Bible should allow the reader to enter the world of the Bible text. Given the popularity of study Bibles, it would seem that the ideal place to bridge the cultural gap is not in the translation itself but in study notes.
Luther, Martin. Career of the Reformer III. In Luther’s Works. Volume 33. Edited by Helmutt Lehmann and Philip S. Watson. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1999. [Bondage of the Will]
The Bondage of the Will is essential reading. Luther believed that Erasmus, to whom he is responding, reached the heart of the Reformation in his critique. It is important to recognize that by bondage of the will Luther does not mean that people do not do what they please. Rather, he means that the will is so bound by sin that people will not choose to come to God apart from the working of God upon their hearts. Luther’s argumentation is both theological and exegetical.
Leeman, Jonathan. How the Nations Rage: Rethinking Faith and Politics in a Divided Age. Nashville: Nelson, 2018.
Leeman, a pastor and theologian with a degree in political science, is writing to help American Christians think biblically about politics. While he states up front that he is “not a political radical” or revolutionary, and while he values the political heritage that Americans have been bequeathed, he is concerned that American Christians often accept certain political principles because they are American without examining whether they are truly biblical.
For instance, many American Christians read Jesus’s words in Matthew 22:21, “render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” as if God’s things (“worship, faith, church, etc.”) belong in “the private domain” while the government’s things belong in the public domain. Leeman argues that Jesus’s words in Matthew 28 do not allow for this: “Jesus said he possesses all authority in heaven and on earth” (12). While Leeman affirms the separation of church and state (as two distinct institutions), he rejects “the separation of religion and politics.”
That is, Leeman rejects the old European model of Christendom in which church and state jointly ruled a nation. In Leeman’s view, this arrangement violated the unique spheres of authority that God gave church and state while bearing bad fruit (e.g., nominal Christianity, states that persecuted Christians in the name of Jesus).
But Leeman also rejects the model of John Locke and Thomas Jefferson in which the state rules over “outward things” and the church rules over personal, inward, religious matters. Leeman notes that people who hold such a view delude themselves into thinking that certain parts of life are not religious. For instance, the American values of “rights, equality, and freedom” may seem neutral. But when you ask: freedom to do what? rights to what? equality in what way? it becomes clear that religious viewpoints are smuggled in under these allegedly neutral terms. This, makes the fiction of a neutral public square damaging to the public good because it maintains a fiction.
Leeman explains:
When the non-Christian affirms his belief in the separation of church and state, he means separation of government from my church, not his own. He effectively says, ‘You can’t impose any of your beliefs and morals on me because they come from your church.’ Okay, but does that mean he cannot impose his idolatrous and non-Christian views on me? Ah, there’s the catch. He has no official church and no god with a name. And there’s no such thing as separation of idolatry and state. Too bad for me. Lucky for him. [41]
Thus the public square is not truly neutral: “What you really have is a square rigged against organized religion. Organized religions are kept out. Unnamed idols are let in” (34).
Leeman’s view is that the church and state should be largely separate institutions. God has given them two distinct jurisdictions. But all of life is religious. There is no neutrality.
What is at stake is found in the title of the book How the Nations Rage. While nations war among themselves, the greatest political rivalry is that of the nations conspiring against the Messiah. Leeman insightfully observes that “worship and rule belong together.” In a fallen world, rule is claimed by those who justify themselves as deserving the right to rule. Part of the challenge that Christians face is that the “politics of the new creation,” is currently present only in the church, which God by his Word and Spirit transforms hearts. And yet Christians are involved in the politics in this fallen world.
In order to navigate politics in a fallen world a right understanding of how the Bible relates to politics is needed. Leeman argues that “when it comes to thinking about politics, the Bible is less like a book of case law and more like a constitution. A constitution does not provide a country with the rules of daily life. It provides the rules for making the rules” (79). Leeman does not deny that the Bible makes some direct demands that should be translated into law. Law’s against murder come to mind. But in most cases, the Christian applying the Bible to the political realm is in need of wisdom. Leeman says that “wisdom is both the posture of fearing the Lord, as well as the skill of living in God’s created but fallen world in a way that yields justice, peace, and flourishing” (84; cf. Prov. 8:15-16). His point is that whereas there are some “straight-line issues” where the Bible can be directly applied (no murder means no abortion), most issues are “jagged line issues” where the Bible still applies, but not directly (e.g., health-care policy). Leeman argues that churches can bind people’s consciences on straight-line issues but should not do so with jagged line issues.
Leeman then turns to the Bible’s teaching about the origin, purposes, and forms of government. He notes that the Bible’s view of the origin of government “sits uncomfortably with aspects of America’s liberal, democratic tradition.”
Our liberal, democratic tradition teaches that “governments derive their powers … ‘from the consent of the governed'” (101). This is the social contract view. On this view people lived in a pre-political state until they consented to form a government. Since the government provided a framework for life rather than something that regulated all of life, the formation of government created public aspects for everyone’s life while leaving a substantial portion of life private. The “source of the government’s moral authority … depends on our consent.” On this view, religion is considered a private matter, rather than a public one.
Leeman notes that the Bible’s view of government has no room for a “pre-political” state because everyone is “always under God’s rule.” When people form a social contract, they ought to do so under the rule of God since, according to the Bible “a government’s authority comes from God” (Rom. 13:1, 2, 4; John 19:11). “Our governments, after all, are simply a way of working out in time and space the rules that God has provided” (105).
Leeman’s discussion of the biblical purposes for government begins with Genesis 9. God requires “a reckoning for the life of man” in Genesis 9. From this, Leeman concludes that the first purpose of government is “To Render Judgment for the Sake of Justice.” Other biblical texts that support this purpose include 1 Kings 3:28; Proverbs 20:8; Romans 13:3-4. The second purpose of government also Leeman also derives initially from Genesis 9: “The authority that God gave to shed blood for blood (vv. 5-6) facilitates the larger enterprise of filling the earth and ruling over it (vv. 1 and 7)” (112). Thus the second purpose for government is “To Build Platforms of Peace, Order, and Flourishing.” See also Prov. 29:4; 16:12, 15; Joseph’s preparation for famine in Egypt and Mosaic regulations that provide for the poor. From 1 Timothy 2:1-4, Leeman discerns a third purpose for government: To Set the Stage for Redemption.” A good government “clears a way for the people of God to do their work of calling the nations to God.”
This last purpose of government raises the issue of religious freedom. Leeman supports the view that governments should tolerate false worship because Scripture authorizes no government, except Old Testament Israel, to punish people for false worship. Leeman points out that this argument is not based on the freedom of the conscience (though that is a “fruit” of the argument) but on the authorization that God gives to government. Second, Leeman argues that “governments possess no authority to exercise the keys of the kingdom, and no ability to coerce true worship” (122).
With all this in view, what is the best form of government? Americans may be tempted to answer, “democracy.” But Leeman observes that a democracy only functions well when “the right kind of political culture must be in place.” He observes, “There must be a strong tradition of respecting the rule of law. Citizens must prize honesty and eschew bribes. They must trust one another to keep their contracts. They must know how to negotiate, persuade, compromise, and lose votes, yet still submit to the system. Apart from these kinds of public and private virtues, democracy has a much harder time working” (122). The Bible itself provides “no abstract ideal form of government.” Instead, a good government is any government that fulfills the three biblical purposes for government noted above.
Leeman then turns from the role of the government to the role of the church. He emphatically denies the path of arguing that the church focuses on spiritual matters while the government focuses on political matters. Instead, he asserts, “Every week that a preacher stands up to preach he makes a political speech. He teaches the congregation “to observe all” that the King with all authority in heaven and on earth has commanded (Matt. 28:20)” (131-32). On the other hand, Leeman is skeptical of making the church into a lobbying organization. He notes that it is beyond the church’s mission and competency to formulate public policy. “Therefore, churches should ordinarily not seek to influence government policy directly. … It risks misidentifying Jesus’ name with human wisdom. It risks abusing the consciences of church members. And it risks undermining Christian freedom and unity” (145). He observes, “I have watched churches unite their names and therefore the name of Jesus to a Supreme Court nominee, to presidential candidates, and to legislation in Congress. And nearly every time I want to ask, ‘Are you sure? Do you really want to stake the reputation of Jesus and the gospel to that nominee or candidate or reform?'”(148).
Leeman acknowledges there are certain issues that are so clear that the church can speak directly to them. In fact, he notes that “churches can sin and prove faithless by not speaking up in matters of government policy when they should” (147). But the church has to be able to discern the difference between what it can bind consciences on and what a Christian, working in a sphere outside the church, might conclude as he brings policy expertise together with a biblically-shaped worldview.
The limitations that Leeman places on the involvement of the church as an institution do not apply to general Christian involvement in politics. In fact, Leeman argues that disengagement from civic life is wrong, as is capitulation, “positively endorsing the world and its ways.” Leeman cautions, “Be leery of being too captivated by any political worldview” (181). Neither the right or the left provide the Christian with a biblical worldview. For the Christian to simply embrace the zeitgeist of either side or either party will result in conformity to the world in some areas of life. A third wrong path is to be worldly in the way the Christian acts politically. “There is a way of engaging that’s right on the substance but wrong on the strategy or tone” (164).
Leeman also notes various strategies for Christian engagement in the political realm. The first approach is to find some common ground in the way the argument is made. For instance, Leeman observes that when the Affordable Care Act required employers to provide insurance coverage that included abortion, Christians objected to this requirement (and prevailed in court) on religious freedom grounds. Leeman notes that he agrees with the religious freedom argument, but he observes: “Religious freedom isn’t the real issue. It’s a backup issue. The real issue, for a Christian, is murder. We don’t want the state to require us to fund something we believe is murder” (183). A second approach is to appeal to natural law. This was attempted in the debate over the redefinition of marriage. A third way of engagement Leeman calls the “sociologists approach.” For instance, a Christian defending policies that support two-parent homes or opposing policies that undermine two-parent homes could point to studies showing that children do better in two-parent homes.
Leeman does not object to Christians deploying any of these approaches when appropriate. But he does issue a warning about these ways of making a political argument. “All three lack the force of conviction because the very thing they are good at—finding common ground—affirms our modern intuitions that all authority and moral legitimacy rests in every individual’s consent. Unless I can be convinced something is true on my terms, it must not be true. And so you owe it to me to convince me on my terms. Ironically, the very attempt to persuade risks hardening people in the deeper certainty that they are right” (184).
This objection runs up against the way Americans tend to think about the public square. Leeman observes that John Rawls argued that “we are morally obligated to only bring arguments that everyone can understand on his or her own terms” (186). Leeman calls this view “a Trojan horse for small-g god idolatry.” Governments do not make laws only about matters for which there is consensus. When there is no consensus, on whose terms is the decision made. Leeman argues that it is better to observe that everyone’s god is attempting to set the terms of the debate. There is no religiously neutral public square or religiously neutral public argument.
Leeman’s final chapter addresses the issue of justice. The primary responsibility of government is to ensure justice, and Americans have a particular viewpoint on justice. “Together Jefferson’s Declaration and Lincoln’s Address present America’s mission statement on justice: we are a people dedicated to the principles of equality, freedom, and natural rights” (204).
Leeman is skeptical that this view of justice works. Just as there is no religiously neutral public argument, so there is no religiously neutral approach to justice: “Pick your God or gods; out will come your views on justice. Pick your conception of justice; out will come your views on equality, freedom, and rights” (206). Leeman’s point is that equality, freedom, and rights are themselves empty concepts that will be filled with different content depending on one’s worldview.
Leeman also challenges the more recent views of identity politics. He notes such approaches deny the Bible’s teaching about our “common humanity” and speak as if both truth and morality are social constructs of different groups. Instead of bringing about justice, identity politics, pits groups against each other so that they cannot even communicate with each other, much less work together as citizens. In contrast, Leeman says “The Christian path affirms both our common humanity and our created differences. It requires color-blindness with respect to our oneness in Adam and (if believers) in Christ (Gal. 3:28). It requires color-consciousness with respect to our different experiences, histories, and cultural traditions, as well as the unique ways different people can glorify God (1 Cor. 12:13–14; Rev. 7:9)” (221).
Good books on Christians and politics are difficult to find. Often Christians are tempted to baptize current political philosophies (whether from the left or right) rather than testing these philosophies against Scripture. Leeman does an admirable job of letting the Bible challenge our customary ways of thinking. This is probably the best brief book on politics that I’ve read.