Severus of Antioch (Allen)

Allen, Pauline.  Severus of Antioch. Routledge, 2004.

Pauline Allen’s selection and analysis of Severus’s text make a cogent case that he did not believe in a “tertium quid,” a new substance combined from Christ’s human and divine natures.  Even if earlier fathers such as Irenaeus and Gregory of Nazianzus spoke of a “mixture,” Severus was more reluctant to do so.

Like others in this series, Allen gives us a portrait of Severus’s life, the larger Byzantine controversies, and a selection of his key writings. Her scholarship is top-notch and probably the best out there in English.

We need to distinguish between monophysite and miaphysite. Monophysite is not a term that Orientals gave themselves. Later Chalcedonians, many of whom would not have been in agreement with much of Cyril, used it to mean that the divine nature absorbs the human nature like a glass of wine absorbs a drop of water.

Miaphysite, on the other hand, means a specific hypostasis, the Logos, took on the properties of flesh. They would not cash it out between human nature and divine nature. For them, nature is a universal, and Jesus didn’t take on the universal of the entire human race. He took on specific properties.

Severus of Antioch said in Christ after the union there is difference but not duality. Severus is operating with the older Athanasian view that physis = hypostasis, existent reality. Because there cannot be “two existent Jesuses,” there can only be one hypostasis in Jesus. His opponents, by contrast, are working with a newer, post-Basil the Great, understanding of hypostasis and ousia.

In other words, a substance, on the post-Cappadocian reading, is the common property of a class, be it divinity or humanity. The problem, as Severus sees it, is to form a particular hypostasis from two common universals. As such, the common class of humanity would include all humans! Even worse, the whole Trinity would have assumed all of humanity!

Rather, following Gregory of Nazianzus, the whole Trinity “is above substance and above nature, and is not subject to these designations” (Allen, Severus of Antioch 85). Because substance is capable of division, we do not use substance (as such) to refer to the Trinity. The two “natures” are not “substances,” for they do not hold together many hypostases (87). Furthermore, because the two are not “substances,” divinity and humanity cannot create a new tertium quid (91).

I do not think Severus and his opponents had the same concepts in mind throughout the debate.  That is not to say Severus was ultimately correct.  I think there are some remaining difficulties in miaphysitism.  That said, Severus was by far the best thinker on either side of the debate.

Ad Nephalium

Severus missed the opportunity to put his opponents on the horns of a dilemma: If the phrase “out of two natures” is wrong, and Dioscorus was wrong for using it, so says Leo, then was Cyril wrong for using it?  If no, then Dioscorus agrees with Cyril.  If yes, then Leo disagrees with Cyril.

Key point: in Christ after the union there is difference but not duality.

Severus is operating with the older Athanasian view that physis = hypostasis, existent reality.  Because there cannot be “two existent Jesuses,” there can only be one hypostasis in Jesus. His opponents, by contrast, are working with a newer, post-Basil the Great, understanding of hypostasis and ousia.

Philalethes

Responding to a florilegium that tried to paint Cyril in a neo-Chalcedonian light, Severus shows where some Nestorians, replying to Cyril, used the phrase “in two natures.”  Key argument: if you agree with Ephesus that you cannot divide into duality what is in union, how can you affirm two natures after the union (73)?

Contra impium Grammaticum

Key argument: it is hypothetically possible to make a mental distinction of two natures out of the union. Nonetheless, the language of “two natures after the union” risks affirming “natures which subsist separately and apart” (80).

Conclusion

Severus’s key arguments notwithstanding, it is hard to imagine a Western Christendom without Chalcedon.  In other words, I doubt the arguments in this book will convince the average reader to become Syriac or Coptic. I do think they deserve careful attention.  We believe in natures and substances, but we are not always clear on the nuances.

The Works of John Witherspoon, volume 6

Witherspoon, John. The Works of John Witherspoon volume 6. Sprinkle Publishing, 2005.

Although John Witherspoon and Cornelius Van Til have categorically different outlooks on the nature of philosophy, their works are similar in format. Both were given as lecture notes in syllabi, and occasionally suffer from that format. Nevertheless, despite some points being underdeveloped, Witherspoon’s works exhibits a clear, logical progression.

This volume contains his History of the Corporation of Servants, Lectures on Moral Philosophy, and Lectures on Eloquence. As the first is a history of the servant class in Britain, it is hard to see how it could be relevant to modern American readers, so we will not deal with it here. Since his Moral Philosophy is primarily what he is known for, we will spend the most time on it.

Lectures on Moral Philosophy

Witherspoon defines moral philosophy as “that branch of science which treats of the principles and laws of Duty or Morals” (59). It is not the same as Scripture, but properly treated, it is not contrary to it. Witherspoon is treating what is called “the light of nature” and the “law of nature.” By light of nature he means what we can discover by our own powers. By law of nature he means something that is “agreeable to reason and nature” (60).

Human Nature

I do not want to say Witherspoon begins with “Man” instead of God, for that is not entirely accurate. Witherspoon certainly begins his doctrine of man with the imago dei, “if we can discover how his Maker formed him or for what he intended him, that certainly is what he ought to be” (61). Having established that, he enumerates man’s faculties: the understanding, the will, and the affections. He is not entirely satisfied with that taxonomy, since he sees them as “different ways of exerting the same principle, but as a taxonomy it is workable enough.

Throughout his discussion he is primarily engaged with the ethical works of Frances Hutcheson, sometimes agreeing, sometimes disagreeing. He does not follow Hutcheson blindly, yet he is not afraid to agree with him when it serves the purpose of his syllabus. With Hutcheson he affirms a sense of moral good and evil that is akin to our five senses (70).

Virtue and its Foundation

He defines virtue as “the rule of duty from conscience enlightened by reason, experience, and from what we can learn from the will of our Maker” (79). He does appeal to the will of God, but he is sensitive to avoid any form of theological voluntarism.

From virtue we move to obligations, of which there are two kinds: duty and interest (80). Before he defines duty and interest, he first places them in the estates in which we find ourselves before God and man. In the estate before God, we must believe in him, to which Witherspoon gives an overview (and endorsement) of the arguments for God’s existence (84). Having established God’s existence, Witherspoon follows the standard manuals on the attributes of God.

One attribute, Justice, is particularly relevant for Witherspoon’s argument. Justice is “an invariable determination to render to all their due” (88). Our duty towards others is sincere love. This leads naturally to a love of country, but Witherspoon places love for mankind above love for country. I disagree. Let us place the love of country and mankind in the category of “rights,” which is something I owe to someone. It is not clear what duty I owe to some abstract person on the far side of the globe. Realistically, I can do little to help them. Contrast that with my neighbor in my country. His claims of right upon me are quite specific and concrete. Perhaps we should love Abstract Man on the far side of the globe, but it would be an empty love.

Rights

Rights may be natural or acquired. A natural right is what I need for my own preservation. An acquired right is particular to my constituted state (96). Justice is founded upon natural, perfect rights.

In the duties to ourselves, Witherspoon covers the classic discussions of the virtues. He does not fully agree with Aristotle’s taxonomy, but since this is a syllabus and not a treatise, he uses it for convenience. Our duty to ourselves is to keep our thoughts, desires, and affections in due moderation. Whenever they “are such to be contrary to love, fear, or trust we owe to God, then they are to be restrained and brought into subjection” (98). This in turn generates humility, contentment, and patience.

The rest of the course covers jurisprudence and international law, including the proper forms of government. His discussion does not fully differ from Aristotelian taxonomies, so we will leave it at that.

Lectures on Eloquence

It was a sign of a greater age when theologians and ethicists gave lectures on rhetoric and eloquence. Shedd was one. Witherspoon was another. That said, Witherspoon does not replace Shedd. His lectures range from insightful to pedantic. For example, we do not need lectures on how syllables work in a course on rhetoric. But there are enough gems to warrant a reading.

To cultivate proper eloquence, Witherspoon urges us to imitate the greatest examples, knowing that we often get our first ideas from imitation (166). Eloquence proper is divided into the simple, the sublime, and the mixed. A simple style is one that is both easy and concrete. By easy, it should contain few figures and no obscure sentiments. A good style, moreover, will be a mixture of smoothness, sweetness, conciseness, and elegance, which combine the best expressions with ease.

In composing an eloquent oration, one should make divisions according to good order and logical arrangement. Each major division should be summarized with a proposition. The larger divisions should be quite bulky, as an endless multiplying of smaller divisions is tedious to the reader.

The smaller division should be clear and coordinated. The clarity should almost resemble definitions. The divisions themselves should be similar to each (like follows like).

Conclusion

Pace some intellectual genealogies, Witherspoon did not ruin Calvinism in America, nor did he represent the Enlightenment triumph over covenantal thought. To be sure, there is a small air of the Enlightenment in this volume, but that is probably inevitable with any thinker who lives in his own time.

King of Kings (James Baird)

Baird, James.  King of Kings: A Reformed Guide to Christian Government. Founders, 2025.

James Baird began his book with an autobiographical journey.  I will do something similar.  After I rejected theonomy around 2009, I realized several things: traditional natural law theory was actually quite theocratic, yet neither principled pluralists nor theonomists knew how to interact with it. (It is common today to refer to the former as “R2K.” I will largely avoid that label since it usually refers to D.G. Hart and to a lesser extent Michael Horton. Most of the people who are labeled such do not hold to Hart’s more extreme statements). Baird gives us a short, yet surprisingly dense defense of the traditional view of Reformed civil government.  He does not answer every question, for if he did the book’s brevity, which is one of its strengths, would be lost.

His thesis is simple: the government must promote Christianity as the only true religion as part of its duty to promote the common good. His argument hinges around a syllogism:

Major premise: Government must promote the common good.
Minor premise: Christianity as the only true religion is part of the common good.
Conclusion: The government must promote Christianity as the only true religion.

The syllogism works, but some might fear that it is “too neat.” To paraphrase Sir Walter Scott, the world is not run by tracts or syllogisms.  But the syllogism should not be dismissed, either. Most readers will protest around the claims of the government promoting Christianity.  What they miss is the discussion of “goods.”  To risk over simplification, a “good” is something that is necessary to human flourishing. These goods are objective, knowable, and accessible.  The government has an obligation to promote them.  Therefore, since Christianity leads to a good culture, the government must promote it.

Without necessarily endorsing Baird’s project, I will try to anticipate some objections.  Some might argue that there are other religions and cultures that are not Christian yet promote social goods. That is probably true, but it is not a realistic objection today.  For better or worse, Western governments are not going to promote Confucianism or Taoism.  (And the Chinese government is more Marxist than either). Islam is ruled out for obvious reasons.  Judaism is a wild card, to which we might return in this discussion.

Let us approach the objection from another angle, and in doing so we will anticipate the objection: “But the apostles never established a theocracy.”  Let us go back to the days of the apostles.  Let us look at the Roman Empire.  What does life look like without God?  Read Romans 1. I rest my case. Life in Romans 1 is a life lived in absence of real, objective public goods.

Having rebutted the above objections, I now enter my own, if it is an objection. I do not think you need Christianity to meet Baird’s thesis.  I think, echoing something like Yoram Hazony’s project in Conservatism: A Rediscovery, something like a political promotion of the ten commandments within a historic Ango-Protestant context will do the trick.  

To be sure, that takes some of the force out of Baird’s thesis, but it echoes another part of it: one of the virtues is prudence with power. What I propose is more workable in a country of 350 million.  With that caveat aside, I am in agreement with him.

Conclusion

Is this book part of the dreaded “Christian nationalism?”  Maybe, but Baird and Wolfe are not always saying the same thing.  Wolfe, to the degree he stayed to his thesis and avoided talks about race and blood and soil, argued, sometimes impressively, that society must be ordered to both natural and supernatural ends. Baird argues more along the lines that society must deal with natural and supernatural goods. The two propositions overlap, but they are not the same.

This book is a welcome alternative to the mentality that Reformed political ethics began in 1947.  And to anticipate the rebuttal, “But that’s Constantinianism!”  It is not.  It is American, since Baird’s historical argument simply summarizes the existence of state (not Federal) churches in the colonies and early Republic, along with religious tests and oaths. If the American system is a negation of Constantine, and if Baird’s argument is identical to early American state legislatures, then it is hard to see how it is Constantinianism.

Richard Baxter and Conversion

Beougher, Timothy K. Richard Baxter and Conversion: A Study of the Puritan Concept of Becoming a Christian. Mentor, 2007.

Timothy Beougher has published a fine introduction to Richard Baxter’s soteriology.  Indeed, this should be the introductory text to all secondary literature on Baxter, at least as regards his soteriology. Indeed, one should read this volume prior to reading Packer or Boersma.  Building off of key themes in J. I. Packer’s own dissertation on Baxter, Beougher argues that Baxter’s political model forms the key to understanding his soteriology.

Key to Baxter’s theology of conversion, indeed to his whole theology, is his political model.  According to Beougher, “Baxter believed the key theme in Scripture was the Kingdom of God, and therefore the idea of the kingdom should be taken as one’s own starting point in constructing a system of theology” (Beougher 38). Kingdoms, quite naturally, have laws and governments. They also have a lord (Dominus) who enacts them.

It is in this idea of “kingdom” that Beougher lays any fault in Baxter’s theology.  Baxter, according to Beougher, reinterpreted all of Scripture according to 17th century politics.  “Once one works on the principle that political theory (or anything else for that matter) provides the framework from which to view Scripture, the Bible ‘loses’ its ability to judge that framework” (39).  Accordingly, this is the reason Baxter’s church today is Unitarian (40).  

This seems like a good critique, but Beougher overshoots his mark. Baxter certainly erred in making 17th century society the epistemological framework for salvation.  But Anselm did the same thing.  In fact, almost every thinker in history did the same thing.  Even worse, we all bring frameworks to Scripture.  We cannot approach Scripture without a framework (this is the one thing that presuppositionalists get right).

Anthropology

With anthropology Baxter is on safer ground. As with other Reformed thinkers, Baxter holds to concreated holiness.  In what appears a nod to Thomas Aquinas, Baxter lays the fault in the garden to a triumph of the will over the intellect. (44).

Elsewhere Baxter expounds something like a faculty psychology (46ff). With intellect and soul, Baxter stresses another faculty: the active power. This appears to be the mode in which man relates to God.  If so, it is similar to some Patristic accounts of man’s spirit.

The Antinomian Problem

It was not Baxter’s opposition to the antinomianism in Cromwell’s argument that led to errors in his theology.  It was probably combining that with an adherence (of sorts) to Hugo Grotius’s Governmental Theory of the atonement, where “Christ secured a change in God’s law rather than satisfying it” (49).

Not dissimilar from his reliance on Grotius, but not directly indebted to any one thinker, is Baxter’s so-called Amyraldian view of the atonement.  So-called, because by his own account he came to his view before he had read Amyraut. Christ died for the whole world as a part of God’s general benevolence (see the political method above) to mankind (54ff).

Justification

Beougher does his utmost to give Baxter a charitable reading regarding justification. Works, for Baxter, “are the prescribed expression of faith” and are “absolutely necessary for justification at the last judgment” (61). Going back to his three faculties of man, true faith “is an act of all three faculties” and “will always result in action” (62). So far one could say Baxter echoes, perhaps not in the best language, the traditional belief that true faith will always lead to works.  Beougher is convinced the differences are largely verbal. I am not so sure.  And I am not sure Baxter is sure. And that is the real problem. If I cannot understand what you mean by something like justification, the problem is not with me.

On one hand, Baxter can say “No man can say that he is a Co-ordinate Con-cause with Christ in his justification” (73), yet still believe there was a real final justification.  Beougher suggests the key lies in the political method: “Judgment is a necessary part of government. Laws are mere shadows if they are not executed” (72). Read thusly, Baxter could simply see the “final justification” as a “vindication.”  

The Process of Conversion

Baxter’s remarks on conversion are standard Puritanism. The primary means, not surprisingly, is the word of God.  Although conversion is an act of the Spirit, man has a responsibility: he must make use of the means God has given him 81). With the word comes “consideration,” a seeking the knowledge of divine things. The preacher can stimulate consideration “in men’s minds by asking a series of questions” (83).

Consideration will lead to humiliation, yet “Baxter cautions his readers not to mistake the nature and the ends of the work.”  Feeling sorry for sin is good, but that is not the same thing as being converted to Christ.

Beougher explains Baxter’s use of the “Practical Syllogism:” “All who manifest the signs of grace have eternal life; you manifest the signs of grace; therefore, you have eternal life” (91).  That sounds simple enough, but how do I really know I manifest the signs of eternal life? Baxter says such thinking is antinomian, arguing from uncertainties to certainty.  The correct way to argue, according to Baxter, “is from a certain truth, and to say, “I live in ordinary, wilful, henious sin; therefore I am not justified or sincere.”  Or one can deny the consequent and then deny the antecedent, and come to the conclusion one is sincere.

Presenting the Gospel

This chapter functions more like a summary of a good evangelist. One should highlight a few helpful suggestions.  A good evangelist should expect success (104). To be sure, the Holy Spirit is sovereign, but do not approach the person like you are already defeated.

Conclusion

This is a modified doctoral dissertation. It reads like such, especially with the copious endnotes.  That  is either a positive or a negative, depending on your attitude.  Beougher is mostly sympathetic with his subject and rescues Baxter from most (but not all) charges.

Thomas Aquinas: An Evangelical Appraisal (Geisler)

Geisler, Norman L. Thomas Aquinas: An Evangelical Appraisal. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2003.

Peter Kreeft once said “Don’t read Thomists.  Read Thomas.  He is much clearer.”  Kreeft was wrong, if only because he is such a good writer and expounder of Thomas.  In some ways, Geisler is even better.  This book is the best handbook on theological first principles, let alone introductions to Thomas Aquinas.

Basic argument and position of Aquinas: Pace Van Til, “Aquinas would agree: (1) that speaking in the realm of being (metaphysics), logic is dependent on God and not God on logic; (2) that the existence of God is ontologically necessary; (3) that without God nothing could be either known or proven to be true” (Geisler 18).

The Life of Aquinas

Thomas probably was born around 1224/25.  Any guess is merely probable, though some have more justification than others.  Much of our information comes from testimonies given during Thomas’s canonization. These accounts sometimes conflict, so the biographer is forced to reconstruct the narrative based on various events in Thomas’s life. One can say for certain that Aquinas died on March 7, 1274, and sources say he was near fifty.. From that date, coupled with the age requirements for entering the Dominican Order, scholars place his birth around 1224 or 1225. If the exact date of Thomas’s birth is a mystery, the location is not. Thomas was born “in the Aquino castle of Roccasecca.” 

Faith and Reason

Faith and reason are parallel. One does not cause the other. Quoting Thomas, Geisler explains: “faith involves will (freedom) and reason doesn’t coerce the will” (58). From here he introduces the distinction between believing that God exists and believing in God. Geisler, like any good dispensationalist, provides a very helpful chart.

The First Principles of Knowledge

This is likely the most important chapter in the book.

What is a First Principle?

According to Aquinas, “anything whence something proceeds in any way we call a principle.” A principle is that from which something follows” (72). Moreover, “A first principle is, therefore, a first among firsts.” It may be first in the order of knowing, being, or becoming.” Geisler then gives his famous list of principles, though it is not original to Geisler.

• The Principle of Identity. 
• The Principle of Noncontradiction. 
• The Principle of Excluded Middle. 
• The Principle of Causality

Why Should We Care about First Principles, particularly the Law of Non-Contradiction?

1. To deny it would deprive words of their fixed meaning and render speech useless. 

2. Reality of essences must be abandoned. There would be becoming without anything that becomes, flying without a bird, accidents without substance. 

3. There would be no distinction between things. All would be one. 

4. It would mean the destruction of truth, for truth and falsity would be the same. 

5. It would destroy all thought, even opinion, for its affirmation would be its negation. 

6. Desire and preference would be useless, for there would be no difference between good and evil. 

7. Everything would be equally true and false at the same time. No opinion would be more wrong than any other, even in degree. 

8. It would make impossible all becoming, change, or motion, for all this implies a transition from one state to another, but all states would be the same, if contradiction is not true (78-79).

Reality

Parmenides gave a clever, if obviously wrong account of how everything is one. Things either differ by being or nonbeing.  Things cannot differ by being, since everything has being. They cannot differ by nonbeing, since nonbeing is nothing, and to differ by nothing is to have no difference at all. 
Following Aristotle, Thomas noted that things have being by varying degrees of potentiality.

God’s Nature

God and Time

“Another way to understand the difference between God’s eternity and time is to recognize that time is an accidental change, not a substantial change. A substantial change is a change in what something is; an accidental change is a change in what something has” (106).
Evaluation

In the rest of the book, Geisler examines (and defends) the various arguments for God’s existence. The honest reader can probably guess what he says.  You either agree with Aquinas or you do not.  I do, but there is not much point in rehashing those debates in this review.  He also has a good section on natural law which will repay many readings.

The Narnia Code (Ward)

Ward, Michael. The Narnia Code. Tyndale.

If one were to say, “I’ve found the secret code that unlocks the Narnia stories,” everyone would think he’s crazy.  To make it worse, this code is found in the stars. Now this sounds like the New Age. Michael Ward makes such a claim.

The typical response would be, “No, Narnia is about Jesus.”  And much of it is, but much of it does not make sense if Narnia is simply about Jesus.  For example, why does Father Christmas show up in The Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe?  What does Aslan have to do with Santa Clause?  Jesus imagery does not answer that question.

The planets, however, do.  At this point Ward’s case begins to make sense. The problem is not with Ward’s claim.  It is with us.  We know that geocentrism is wrong.  Even more, we do not look (or cannot look) at the stars because of light pollution. We simply cannot understand such a worldview. The medievals had no such problem. C. S. Lewis knew that and whether he intended the planets to form a kind of code to unlock the Narnia stories, the symbolism is in the Narnia stories.  

If one reads The Discarded Image, the symbolism is familiar.  If one reads “The Descent of the Gods” in That Hideous Strength, it is painfully obvious.  The fault is not in the stars.  It is with modernity. The symbolism looks like this, taken from Lewis’s poem “The Planets.”

Moon
Mercury
Venus
Sun
Mars
Jupiter
Saturn

This is the order of their appearance from Earth, give or take.

The Lion, Witch, and Wardrobe

Planet: Jupiter
Symbolism: Kingly, jovial spirit, winter

Prince Caspian

Planet: Mars
Symbolism: Wooden shields, battle, planetary conjunction

Voyage of the Dawntreader

Planet: Sun
Imagery: Gold, Apollos killing the dragon

The Silver Chair
Problem: Psalm 121:6 says the sun will not harm you by day nor the moon by night.  We understand how the sun can hurt us, but how do moonbeams harm us?  In the ancient (and medieval) world, the moon made you crazy.  We think Jesus healed epileptics.  The Greek word is “Selenites,” lunatics
Planet: The moon
Imagery: Silver, wet (the moon and tides)

Prince Rillian is crazy for much of the book

The Horse and his Boy

Planet: Mercury
Imagery: Quicksilver, conjoining, “twinning”

The Magician’s Nephew
Planet: Venus
Imagery: Apples, Orchard is in the West

The Last Battle

Planet: Saturn
Imagery: Sleeping Giant, Father Time, end of the World

Conclusion

Does Ward make his case? Probably, though at this point we cannot know Lewis’s deepest intentions.  For those in tune with medieval symbolism about the planet and have read That Hideous Strength and The Discarded Image, the point is obvious.  

Kingdom of Priests (Eugene Merrill)

Merrill, Eugene H. Kingdom of Priests: A History of Old Testament Israel. Second Edition. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008.

Many readers of the Bible, conservatives ones, anyway, have a Platonic view of biblical history. In other words, if anything happened in the Bible, it happened insulated from outside forces.  Eugene Merrill dispels that notion. He traces the history of Israel from Abraham to the return from exile.

This review will focus primarily on events from Judges to Esther.  Merrill has important discussions regarding the dating of Exodus and the Conquest of Canaan.  The reader is encouraged to consult them.

Merrill gives an early date of Exodus around 1446 B.C.  He argues that Hatshepsut rescued Moses as a baby and Thutmose III was Pharoah at the time.  Amenhotep II was the Pharaoh of the Exodus (Merrill 77-80).

For the time of the Judges, Merrill gives a Terminus a quo of 1360-1350 and a Terminus ad quem of 1084, the Battle of Mizpah. If the chronology of Acts 13:19-20 is determinative, and the time of the judges lasted around 450 years, then it is difficult to reconcile that number with the reign of the judges or the overall time period given in Judges and 1 Samuel. 

Merrill’s point of departure is the death of Joshua in 1366. This made the final date of the Judges in 1084 at the Battle of Mizpah. Unfortunately, that leaves us nowhere near the elapsed time of 450 years given in Acts. Merrill solves the problem in two ways: he adds the forty years of Eli, which would bring the total close to 450 years; and he compresses the chronology by adding the years of oppression, judgeships, and peace (Merrill 170).

Davidic Chronology

Merrill notes two clear dates in the chronology: David at Jerusalem (1004) and his death (971). Little else is clear. On the other hand, if Solomon was around twenty at his coronation, then he would have been born thirteen years after the conquest of Jerusalem in 991 (Merrill 260). Directly connected to this is the Bathsheba affair, which places the conquest of Ammon around 993. Dating the moving of the ark, on the other hand, requires a firm date of Absalom’s rebellion. Merrill puts the latter at 976, so the Ark must have been present no later.  If this chronology holds, then much of Israel would have been uncomfortable at such a change in public liturgy and likely to rebel.  Merrill’s reconstruction has merit and there does not seem to be any major problems with it.

In attacking David, the Ammonites enlisted the help of Moab, Edom, and the Arameans. Defeating all three, David then annexed great portions of their kingdoms.  This gave him  practical control of Damascus in the north to Edom and the Gulf of Aqaba in the southeast, as well as Moab to the east.  Sensing that a more decisive response to Ammon was necessary, Israel invaded. Ammon fell a few years later.

The Divided Kingdom

The international scene from 850 to 750 saw the rise of Assyria as a world-power.  Initially plagued by weak rulers, Assyria came into its own with the reign of Tiglath-pileser III. Assyria’s rise mirrored Egypt’s declension. Judah would have little reason to fear the latter in years to come (and also, little reason to hope for Egypt’s strength to counter Assyria and Babylon).

To the north Israel had to worry about Damascus, ultimately fighting them to a draw.  

Although not directly related to Judah, 605 saw the fall of the Assyrian empire. Its import was clear: Babylon would be a greater threat than Assyria. King Jehoiachin, suffering under Egyptian vassalage, saw a new master in Babylon. In 598/7, Nebuchadnezzar defeated Jehoiachin and took formal control of Jerusalem, deporting some of its citizens. He also set up Zedekiah as king. For some reason, Zedekiah thought he could match Nebuchadnezzar in battle.  In 586, Nebuchadnezzar responded by razing Jerusalem, thus ending the Israelite monarchy.

Exilic life among the Jews focused on three locations: Judah, Babylon, and Egypt. With the temple and Jerusalem destroyed, Jews had to build new infrastructures.  It was then that something like synagogues, meeting the need for Torah, might have come into existence.  Jews in Babylon, although lacking key aspects of their national identity, probably had a decent existence.  Indeed, such was Jeremiah’s wish for them (Jer. 29). Indeed, many chose not to return when given the chance.  The most contentious group, at least at first, was in Egypt.  Disobeying Jeremiah and fearing Nebuchadnezzar’s reprisals, these Jews fled to Egypt and carried on syncretistic forms of worship.

Conclusion

The book is a complete masterpiece and deserves its place on every shelf.

The Virtue of Nationalism (Hazony)

Hazony, Yoram. The Virtue of Nationalism.

Far from being another book in the “Christian Nationalism” debate, largely because Hazony is Jewish, this book is more a plea for independent national communities in the face of global empires.  Only a Marxist or a jaded Neo-con (who was originally a Marxist) would disagree. Hazony begins by describing, following the Old Testament narrative, the movement from tribal communities, such as we see with the patriarchs, to emerging, yet flawed, national identities with the judges, to a fully formed nation in the monarchy.

A point on terminology: nation and state are not exactly the same thing. A nation is a recognizable, often geographical identity.  A state points more towards the bureaucratic apparatus.  Israel in the time of the Judges would have been a nation but not a state in the modern sense. 

Nations have recognizable customs, language, and traditions.  Notice what neither I nor Hazony did not say: race.  That makes sense, as Exodus describes Israel as a “mixed multitude.”  

Against this we have two choices: empire or anarchy.  With apologies to our libertarian friends, we will aside anarchy.  Empire, on the other hand, is the enemy to the nation. Empire, with some exceptions, is the negation of the nation. If the Age of Empires is over, the age of International Liberalism, sadly, is not. Embodied by entities such as the United Nations and the European Union, these new empires are not accountable to the people, nor do they care for historical customs.  They are driven by some vision of Universal Reason, always in the abstract and rarely reflective of particular peoples.

It is rather ironic that moderns dislike nationalism.  These same people praise “democratic procedures” and “self-government.”  If you apply that to one’s country, you have nationalism, plain and simple.

Alas, we must address the elephant in the room: “What about Hitler?” Easy, Hitler rejected the existence of many independent nations. He had more in common with Imperialism than Nationalism.

Conclusion

Hazony’s key strength is his framing the discussion as a choice between anarchy, empire, and nation.  The key difficulty lies in overcoming decades of liberal hostility to independent nations and cultures.

The Ideal King

Alastair on 1 Samuel 8

Video: Was Israel Wrong to Ask for a King?