I interviewed the author for the Bible Study Magazine Podcast. This is a well written book that really made me think carefully through typology (not fI interviewed the author for the Bible Study Magazine Podcast. This is a well written book that really made me think carefully through typology (not for me a hard sell) and allegory (for me a hard sell) in Scripture. I’m awarding five stars in hopes that I will continue to see allegory as a useful concept for Bible interpretation. I have always been, of course, afraid that it’s a dog that should never be let out of its cage. But if it is to be taken to exegetical obedience school, Chase has proven himself a good trainer. The 40 Questions format makes for an exceptionally pleasant experience, because it forces writers to say a lot of somethings in a short space. I like short chapters.
What really has me thinking is the allegorical interpretation Chase suggests (it still feels weird for me to say that word in any kind of positive way!) for John the Baptist’s diet. I just can’t deny that my Bible reading has brought me to the place where I expect the divine and human authors both to have had some reason for mentioning locusts and wild honey. I expect that reason to be accessible not through additional revelation, not through flights of creative fancy, but through careful reading of the Bible. Part of me doesn’t want to call that “allegory” (this was the question I didn’t get to in my interview: do we have to use that label?). But part of me sees the value in using that label: the text is indeed saying something underneath what it’s saying.
I loved the historical portions of this book. I do expect and want to find continuity with premodern interpreters. I’ve got more reading to do in this space. I want to get back into Craig Carter’s Interpreting Scripture with the Great Tradition, which explores similar themes to Chase. I’m about halfway through. It’s exciting to see careful evangelical biblical scholars finding good in teachers God gave to the church long ago—and showing how their view of Scripture has things to teach us.
I’m going to keep thinking about this book—and dipping into its neatly laid out examples of typology and allegory....more
I loved Sandel's book Justice: What's the Right Thing to Do? His power is incisive analysis: he cuts to the Augustinian heart of divisive issues usingI loved Sandel's book Justice: What's the Right Thing to Do? His power is incisive analysis: he cuts to the Augustinian heart of divisive issues using classic philosophical tools. He also explains all this slowly and clearly. He is the single most gifted guide of classroom discussion that I have ever seen (I not only read Justice; I watched the WBUR Boston recordings of his class; they were sterling).
This book wasn't quite as lean and refined as Justice; it also didn't deal with as important a topic. It was a bit long and a bit repetitive (though because I listened to the audio, read patiently and engagingly by the author, that actually worked out well). And it didn't seem to me to solve the dilemma it kept tossing from hand to hand for hour after hour: If meritocracy isn't so great, and aristocracy not so great either, then what?!
But I'm burying a really important lede: What Sandel did do was give me the best answer I've yet seen to a question I haven't been able to answer since 2016—why in the world did so many Americans vote for reality TV star Donald Trump?! This wasn't the point of the book, more of a very important supporting argument. The main argument was that meritocracy sounds good as a means of allocating certain sought-after goods in a society such as admission to elite colleges and access to high-paying and valorized professions. But—and I'll never forget this—meritocracy tends to make the "winners" feel arrogantly self-congratulatory, forgetful of how very many aspects of their success had nothing to do with their effort; and it tends to make the "losers" feel, well, like that's just what they are. They didn't have the talent or drive to achieve the American Dream, so they're out. Here's where Trump comes in: regular people who do work essential to our society *but not valorized by it* don't like it when elites look down on them. It's galling to hear Hillary Clinton call vast numbers of people "a basket of deplorables," to hear President Obama sneering at those who trust in "God and guns." It's offensive to be told that you are racist for complaining about factory jobs being taken by people in other countries. And yet meritocracy has not only produced all this, it has tempted elites to talk as if credentials equal intelligence, to boot. (I think of Matthew Crawford's Shopclass as Soulcraft, an excellent book, which showed the intellectual challenges inherent in much manual work.)
Aristocracy may keep the peasants and serfs down, but at least they can say to themselves, "I have the talent to rise." They are less likely to conclude, "I am a loser." And aristocracy can produce a noblesse oblige on the part of the aristocrats: they know they don't deserve their privilege, so they share their wealth.
This again, is where I say, "Then what?!" Because I just don't see the West moving back to aristocracy, not on purpose. And if I'm stuck behind Rawls' pre-birth curtain, I'd still choose the meritocratic society and its opportunity over the aristocratic one and its stratified classes. (Though I admit I was shocked to discover that upward mobility in America is actually noticeably lower than it is in a number of European countries.)
So I appreciated Sandel's practical suggestions for toning down the worst elements of meritocracy. And there was a huge irony in one of his key suggestions. Follow me… Sandel critiqued Puritanism as if it were straight up Pelagianism. There was one key line that was just so egregiously wrong—and yet, in a way, perfectly right. He said that the Puritan emphasis on God's grace in election got twisted into self-congratulation for being elect. That is so, so wrong, because Puritans of all people knew that they humbly had no purchase on God's grace, nothing in them to merit it. And yet they would be the first to point out that the human heart is so fallen that it can turn God's grace into a badge of pride. Instead of a critique of the Puritans, I heard in Sandel a critique of human nature. Sandel knows from long labor, I will hazard, that secularism and classical liberalism don't offer serious moral philosophies, so he takes theology seriously, something for which I was grateful. And here I come back to the irony. He proved to me that meritocracy on elite campuses—like the Harvard where he has taught for four decades—is terribly harmful, to the meritocrats and the basket of deplorables alike. He persuaded me that a lottery system would be a much better way for Harvard to select applicants. But by doing this he is, to my mind, implicitly arguing for the grace of God. The lot is cast into the lap, but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.
Sandel also argued that one way to valorize work rightly would be to legally curtail the money markets, the complex financial instruments that can net millions for the right bettors without actually doing much of anything to invest in business or produce any goods and services of value. This I found persuasive, too.
Biblical theology teaches from its very first page that work is a God-given good. God told Adam to "work and keep" the garden even before the fall. But by page 3, human work has been deeply frustrated by the fall: we've got thorns and thistles everywhere. Sandel's calls to valorize all good work rang biblically true for me.
So did his critiques of meritocracy. One of the most important parables in my theology is the parable of the laborers in the vineyard. It shows that no one will get less good than he deserves for his work, but that the Master is generous and sometimes spills out amazing blessing on some and not others. All good I enjoy is by God's grace. There's a reason that conservative evangelical Christians keep saying this to one another. We both believe it and are, by that phrase, asking that Master to help our unbelief. To diminish our pride, our tendency to hoard moral merit in our hearts.
Sandel's book gives me some intellectual tools, tools of careful moral philosophy and of assiduous and wise observation of our world, to help me trust more to God's grace and to be humble and grateful....more
I'm hoping to publish a more extensive review of this excellent—though long and at times tedious—book. I'll say here: Trueman asks an intriguing questI'm hoping to publish a more extensive review of this excellent—though long and at times tedious—book. I'll say here: Trueman asks an intriguing question that builds a narrative expectation and structure into his book: *How is it that average people in the West don't see "I'm a woman trapped in a man's body" as a self-evidence absurdity?*
Trueman sets out to answer this question by following the work of Rieff, MacIntyre, and Taylor—but adding a lot of studious book reports of his own as he guides the (evangelical) reader through Western intellectual history.
I think Trueman delivered. He helped me see how we got here. Evil ideas don't come from nowhere, or even just "from Satan." They trace a path; they get introduced; they slowly gain traction after at first seeming ridiculous.
I'm not realistically going to sit down and read all the books Trueman read in order to build his narrative of intellectual history (Freud, Marcuse, Marx, Wordsworth, Rousseau, etc.). I feel, because I've followed Trueman for many years, and because he showed so much of his work, that he did all that reading work carefully, charitably, and incisively. I do better understand my world thanks to Trueman.
And I have a keener sense of how many desperate human needs are met by the simplest doctrines of Scripture. The doctrine of creation tells me that my body has a purpose—leading among them, faithfulness to my spouse. The doctrine of the fall explains why my desires don't always match the purposes for which my body was made. The doctrine of redemption tells me that Christ died for my sexual sins (Matt 5:27–30) and provides healing and power. I'm not at the mercy of my desires; I don't have to "find out who I truly am and be that person" without reference to any transcendent guidance for who that person is and ought to be. I'm not stuck in any of the social imaginaries that are beholden to an immanent frame....more
This is a very short book that is not intended to break new ground but rather to help beginners step firmly onto biblical ground. I wrote it at the reThis is a very short book that is not intended to break new ground but rather to help beginners step firmly onto biblical ground. I wrote it at the request of a local church—nycgrace.org—which has diligently produced a series of discipleship books for its urban, multi-ethnic congregation.
I talk about revelation (general, special, and personal—following John Frame); I talk about the inspiration, authority, and inerrancy of Scripture; I briefly discuss canon (following Michael Kruger closely), and textual transmission. I camp out a little longer on Bible translation, because I think this is where Christians most often fall into fear and confusion. I argue that the Bible calls for Bible translation, that Bible translation into languages normal people understand is not something to take for granted, that there is no such thing as a perfect or even a "best" translation, and that because there are any number of useful translations in a given language Christians would do well to read several.
Basic stuff, written briefly and humbly for beginners....more
Read in an afternoon; very basic—but very well done. A really ideal introduction for (undergraduate, I’d say) students. She’s not quite where I am theRead in an afternoon; very basic—but very well done. A really ideal introduction for (undergraduate, I’d say) students. She’s not quite where I am theologically, so I’d quibble with a few minor comments and give a pretty different list of significant works; but she’s careful and concise and clear and wise. I was really impressed. Short review coming out in Bible Study Magazine....more
Holland is an excellent writer and, quite apparently, a master of his subject matter. This praise feels hackneyed, but I can still think of none betteHolland is an excellent writer and, quite apparently, a master of his subject matter. This praise feels hackneyed, but I can still think of none better: he makes the Caesars come alive.
He also helps support the thesis of his later book, Dominion, by showing how very different a culture’s sexual morality can be. Rome had its (God-given, Paul said in a letter to early Roman Christians [Rom 2:14–15]) moral conscience, its taboos. But it took Christianity to bring us a world in which a #MeToo movement could happen. Christians don’t always live up to their own standards of morality, but those standards are clear—and clearly different from those of the ancient Romans....more
Herman Bavinck's fame as a theologian has been steadily growing in my circles—especially since the Dutch Translation Society beMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Herman Bavinck's fame as a theologian has been steadily growing in my circles—especially since the Dutch Translation Society began putting out his Reformed Dogmatics in English in 2003. All four volumes sit proudly on my own shelves along with the first volume of his Reformed Ethics.
I like to know the stories and circumstances of my theologians. I like to know what concerns drove them, what conversations they found themselves in. And this book delivers. It's not a warm-hearted book (more on that in a moment), but it reads as eminently careful. The footnotes and the discussions very strongly suggest that Eglinton has made himself the master of Bavinck's writings—in Dutch, no less. He is a servant to Bavinck, not a lord: he helps readers of today understand who Bavinck was in his own mind and in his own times.
I received a review copy from the publisher, but I don't review books I don't choose: I chose this one, and I'm glad. My opinions were not affected in any way that I'm aware of.
This is about to be the squishiest criticism I've ever given of a book, the most subjective: I did feel that Bavinck failed to come alive for me in Eglinton's work. He was treated as a third party about whom it was helpful for us all to have a discussion but who didn't himself get to speak much. His relationships to key people in his life, namely his wife and Abraham Kuyper, felt as if they were taking place somewhere very distant from the reader. Bavinck's friendship with Snouck Hugronje was well rounded, but I come away from this book feeling like I still haven't met Bavinck. This is a "critical" biography, but I still feel a little sense of loss. David McCullough makes his subjects seem alive; somehow that makes a deeper impression on me.
Nonetheless, I received a truly excellent and rigorous summary of his life and views, a set of considered and (it sure seems to me) reliable judgments on some significant areas of dispute among Bavinck biographies, and a picture of the man and his times that will most certainly aid me greatly as I embark on reading through his works in the coming year or so. Bavinck's early biographer Hepp comes in for regular and—again it seems to me, though I have only Eglinton's word to go on—just critique. Experienced readers know when an author has done his or her homework; Eglinton surely has.
Certain things clicked into place for me. Bavinck, I've long known, was a key Neo-Calvinist thinker. He was a key popularizer of the concept of "biblical worldview." I am his direct heir in two books. I see better now, however, the soil from which his views grew. And it's so interesting to me that the soil was similar to my own. He was a "son of the secession"; I was nurtured in "separatism." He was Reformed; so was I (without initially knowing it very well). He wanted to bring the Bible to bear on all of life; I've always wanted that, too. At the very simplest levels, I identify with Bavinck—and I hope I don't flatter myself too much in doing so.
One of the things that most impressed me about Herman Bavinck from this biography was the combined dependence and independence of his mind. He was dependent on Scripture and Christian theology and not on his times. He was able to see his culture as only one among many. He applied his theology of grace restoring nature to his own tribe. This comes out most markedly—in Eglinton's telling—in Bavinck's views on women's suffrage. Kuyper was distinctly unhappy with Bavinck at this point, but Bavinck was able to think both in ideal terms and in practical ones. He was able to hold onto his Bible while traversing the hidden barrier between the 19th and 20th centuries.
Bavinck was a truly great man, and this is a worthy biography. It wasn't a page turner, exactly, but I never felt bored, either. The pace was stately. A good fit for its subject....more
There are two important ways to show that the “liberal” and “secular” values of human rights would never have come into being without Christianity: yoThere are two important ways to show that the “liberal” and “secular” values of human rights would never have come into being without Christianity: you can show that those values are logical extensions of Christianity and not of other worldviews, or you can trace the history of those values and see whether they ever actually arose in non-Christian lands and how they fared in Christian ones. Holland has done both, but the real strength of his book is the historical tour. It’s relentless. It’s well written. It’s persuasive....more
A delightfully quick read. This is my new go to for popular introductions to the Reformation. Sunshine is a very engaging writer—the right blend of caA delightfully quick read. This is my new go to for popular introductions to the Reformation. Sunshine is a very engaging writer—the right blend of careful historical selection, humor, and narrative flow....more
This book is dated—it was a little hard to keep a straight face while hearing praise for Circuit City (dead) and Wells Fargo (discredited). But that dThis book is dated—it was a little hard to keep a straight face while hearing praise for Circuit City (dead) and Wells Fargo (discredited). But that doesn’t necessarily mean that Jim Collins was wrong to find good in them during the periods he examined.
This book is chipper—it is delivered by someone with great faith in his empirical methods, even when they force him to praise… Philip Morris. Indeed, Collins felt uncomfortable with this himself, and one of his defenses did make good sense: the principles that lead a business from good to great work for anyone. But another of his answers only troubled me even more. He said that it didn’t matter what values you had; they just had to be clear and you had to use them. But I’m reminded of Kurt Vonnegut’s comments to a bunch of MIT graduates in a commencement speech:
"Most of you will have to make somebody else’s technological dreams come true.… My brother got his doctorate \[from MIT] in 1938, I think. If he had gone to work in Germany after that, he would have been helping to make Hitler’s dreams come true. If he had gone to work in Italy, he would have been helping to make Mussolini’s dreams come true.… He went to work for a bottle manufacturer in Butler, Pennsylvania, instead. It can make quite a difference not just to you but to humanity: the sort of boss you choose, whose dreams you help come true."
I think it matters greatly what values you hold.
Collins also had trouble answering the question *why* anyone would want to go from good to great. He just ended up saying, “Because you can!” This is what you have to say when your book can’t, by the rules of the game, advert to any ultimate value systems.
Enough philosophizing… What did I learn that will benefit me? I learned that you should focus on what you’re good at and remain humble about your accomplishments. And focus hard on getting good people to work with you. This is all relevant to me and my work, and the stories of humble, “Level 5” leaders will, I think, stick with me as I seek to live out these simple but wise principles....more
So diligent, so enlightening. I’m hoping to put an article together when I finish the trilogy (I’ve read two so far). I knew the outline of this storySo diligent, so enlightening. I’m hoping to put an article together when I finish the trilogy (I’ve read two so far). I knew the outline of this story, but so much surprised me—especially the very stark internal divisions among American blacks, the almost maniacal animus of J. Edgar Hoover against MLK, and the way John Kennedy’s immorality silently hampered efforts toward civil rights. I was struck by how quickly so many people shouted lies (“The Civil Rights movement is just a front for Communist agitators!”) in order to bury the truth about their own wickedness. I was struck by the simple fact that what sometimes have begun to feel like caricatures of Jim Crow Southerners in contemporary movies were absolutely spot-on. I was struck by the way the moral arc of the story, one that seems so obvious now, one that bent toward justice, was not at all obvious to the participants. I was struck by the total absence (?) of white evangelicals from the story (so far—after reading volts. 1 and 2). I don’t know what to make of this yet. I was deeply struck by the explicitly Christian appeals—and I mean appeals to Jesus’ own personal example—that informed the non-violent theories of King, even as he practiced an adultery that was open to many friends. Was King right about non-violence? I think so. Both the Bible generally (“resist not an evil person,” “don’t return reviling for reviling,” “heap coals of fire on their head”) and the example of Jesus (“as a sheep before his shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth”) tell us that the only righteous way a minority can beat the terrible injustices of a majority is by more suffering, suffering driven by love (a constant King appeal), suffering that stirs the God-given conscience of the oppressor. If there is no Jesus, there’s no non-violent Civil Rights movement. If there’s on God, there’s no God-given conscience you can reliably appeal to. If there’s no black church tradition, there are no freedom songs, and there’s no orator like King to rise to the top. I recently listened again to his most famous speech and, toward the end of this volume, read some of the backstory. What a mercy of God that King led with love, toward non-violence. May God help us to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with Him....more
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