Elliot Ritzema

Category: Culture

  • How Should Christians Engage with the Built Environment? A Review

    The year after I graduated from college, I lived in an apartment in the West End of Richmond, VA. There was a public library about a half mile away from my apartment. Occasionally I would walk to the library, but it was an unpleasant experience. In that half mile, I had to walk along two busy roads, neither of which had a sidewalk. Like many parts of cities that developed in the United States after World War II, the West End is primarily designed for automobiles, not pedestrians. “If you want to go to the library,” the city planner is telling you, “you’re supposed to use your car.” Even if the library is only a half mile away.

    Following my time in the pedestrian-unfriendly West End, I lived in three places that were much more pleasant to walk in: Prague, Czech Republic; Budapest, Hungary; and Vancouver, Canada. In the six years that I lived in those places, I did not have a car. I didn’t need one. With the help of public transit, I was able to go everywhere I wanted to go on foot.

    Being a Christian who recognized that my quality of life was affected by how different places I’ve lived were constructed, I was eager to read The Space Between: A Christian Engagement with the Built Environment by Eric O. Jacobsen. Jacobsen is a pastor who has done a lot of thinking about what human-made elements make a place pleasant or unpleasant to live in (you can read an interview with him about the book here). This is his second book on the subject, his first being Sidewalks in the Kingdom: New Urbanism and the Christian Faith. Not having read the earlier book, I’m not competent to say how they differ. I can only say that this one is longer than Sidewalks in the Kingdom, and while it does talk about New Urbanism, that is not the primary subject. It seems broader in scope.

    Jacobsen sets out in this book to introduce the built environment to the Christian community, and to make the case that Christians ought to care about creating built environments that lead to human thriving. The book comes in three parts: The first part is Orientation, in which Jacobsen asks readers to think about who they are, and how they are situated in space and time. His primary audience is North American, and he gives a lot of history on how and why North America has been built in the way it has. The second part is Participation, in which Jacobsen asks readers to think about the different agents who enact community life in a particular place: families, political groups, and churches. The final part is Engagement, in which Jacobsen challenges his readers to ask hard questions about how their Christian faith ought to interact with the built environment, creating places that are sustainable and loved.

    This is a book both for those who already know and care about the built environment, and for those who have not thought about it much, but are curious. I fall into the latter camp, and over and over again I found that Jacobsen gave me language to name things that I already felt. I knew that certain built environments made me comfortable or uncomfortable, and now I know more why that is. It could be a challenging read at times, since a lot of the vocabulary was new, but it was worth the effort. Jacobsen’s chapter on sustainability was challenging in a different way; some of what he writes about human thriving, environmental stewardship, and justice will challenge assumptions held by some of his fellow Christians. That, in my opinion, is a good thing.

    For people in my generation, “The Space Between” is, first and foremost, a Dave Matthews Band song. But it is now also a welcome invitation for Christians to form convictions about how their faith should affect the built environment, and begin to act on those convictions. Not everyone will have the time or the ability to make large-scale changes in the places where they live—after all, the built environments we live in now have taken shape over generations, and sin is present with us even as we seek to build better places to live. But everyone can begin to make small changes that help to “seek the peace of the city” where God has placed them (Jer 29:7), as we ultimately look forward to the city “whose architect and builder is God” (Heb 11:10).

    Note: Thanks to Baker Academic for a review copy of this book. I was not asked to give a positive review.

    Publisher: Baker Academic
    Reading Length: 277 pages
    Rating: 4 stars

  • The Slavery of “Freedom”

    We Americans love to talk about freedom.

    We call ourselves “the land of the free”; our Declaration of Independence talks about liberty as an “inalienable right”; there are still few things that can get an American riled up like the threat of a loss of freedom.

    But our freedom is in jeopardy, says Os Guinness in his new book, A Free People’s Suicide: Sustainable Freedom and the American Future (there is a very good three part interview with Guinness by Timothy Dalrymple). Guinness doesn’t find the primary threat to our freedom in an external source, like another nation, or even “big government” or “big business” or special interests. No, the enemy is us. Freedom cannot be won for all time and then left alone; it needs to be sustained. And, Guinness writes, Americans are failing to sustain the freedom our nation’s founders worked so hard to win: “The problem is not wolves at the door but termites in the floor. Powerful free people die only by their own hand, and free people have no one to blame but themselves” (37). The vision of freedom we Americans are pursuing is “short-lived and suicidal” (29).

    (Side note: The title A Free People’s Suicide might seem bombastic, but it comes from a quote from Abraham Lincoln: “If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide.”)

    The problem with our vision of freedom is that the freedom we love to talk about and claim for ourselves focuses exclusively on freedom from external constraints. There are two kinds of freedom: freedom from constraint (negative freedom) and freedom for cultivating virtue and becoming the people we ought to be (positive freedom). Modern Americans are only interested in negative freedom. We claim rights and entitlements for ourselves, but do not care about duty, virtue, character, or pursuing excellence. Negative freedom alone is unsustainable. Freedom from external restraint, without self-restraint, undermines itself.

    What can be done? Guinness argues that we need to return to the founders’ vision of freedom, which he calls the “Golden Triangle of Freedom.” He demonstrates that the founders did not have a vision of freedom that stopped with freedom from constraint. Rather, their vision of freedom was part of an interdependent triangle: freedom requires virtue; virtue requires faith; faith requires freedom.

    Perhaps the most controversial part of this triangle of freedom in our time is faith (Eric Metaxas wrote a good review of this book in the Christian Post focusing on this point). The point for Guinness, and I agree, is not necessarily that the founders were Christians (though some were). Rather, the point is that the founders (even the Deists) were unanimous in their approval of faith of any kind, because faith fosters virtue, and only a virtuous people can remain free.

    Guinness’ book is intended not just for Christians or religious people, but for all Americans who care about freedom. For that reason, I understand his arguing for faith as part of the golden triangle of freedom on pragmatic grounds (he follows the founders in adopting this tactic). Nevertheless, I think his argument ought to have particular force for Christians. The Bible also understands freedom as not merely freedom from constraint.

    Seven times in the book of Exodus, God (through Moses) says, “Let my people go so that they may serve me.” (Exod 5:1; 7:16; 8:1, 20; 9:1, 13; 10:3). Jesus said, “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (John 8:36), but he also said, “Take my yoke upon you” (Matt 11:29). One of the earliest Christians’ favorite self-designations was “slave of Christ” (Rom 1:1; 1 Cor 7:22; Gal 1:10; Phil 1:1; Titus 1:1; Jas 1:1; 2 Pet 1:1; Jude 1; Rev 1:1). Freedom, for the Christian, can never be merely about freedom from external constraints. It begins with freedom from constraint, but doesn’t stop there. Christian freedom is not just freedom from, but freedom for: freedom to serve God and others. From a Christian perspective, those who begin by thinking freedom is merely the absence of external constraints end by becoming slaves to their own appetites: greed, lust, and desire for power.

    I applaud Guinness’ effort to prod Americans to do the hard work of sustaining freedom. I hope his argument gains a wide hearing. In particular, I hope his argument gains traction among Christians, who are just as prone to only care about negative freedom as anyone else, but who have the least reason for doing so.

    Note: Thanks to InterVarsity Press for a review copy.

  • Coming Apart: A Review

    Charles Murray is a scholar at the American Enterprise Institute, and the author of books like Losing Ground, What It Means to Be a Libertarian, and The Bell Curve. In this book, he looks at the growing class division in America. The subtitle of Coming Apart is The State of White America, 1960–2010. Murray’s purpose in only looking at “white” America is to assert that America’s growing inequality is based on class, not race.

    The book comes in three parts. In the first, Murray describes the formation of a new upper class. In the second, he describes the formation of a new lower class. In the third part, he makes a case for a return to what he calls “the founders’ conception of limited government.”

    Coming Apart is quite an interesting read. There is some statistical analysis, as is the case with all sociology books, but Murray is adept at finding and using anecdotal evidence in support of his arguments. Instead of talking about the “upper class” and “lower class” merely as abstractions, he creates the fictional (but based on real places) “Belmont” and “Fishtown,” respectively. When he examines the decline of Fishtown, he views it in terms of the decline of four virtues all readers will recognize: marriage, industriousness, honesty and religiosity. While an entertaining writer, Murray frequently comes across as a curmudgeon, prone to nostalgia and generalization.

    Murray is a libertarian, and a small fraction of Americans describe themselves as libertarians. This means that not many people will agree with all of Murray’s prescriptions, or even all of Murray’s analysis. I, for one, possess gobs of the religiosity that Murray lauds, and yet I don’t think encouraging people to be religious because religiosity benefits society is a terribly good idea. People hold religious beliefs because they believe them to be true and accurately account for the world as they experience it—not because they think holding those beliefs will be beneficial to society. I don’t think encouraging people to be religious (or even honest, industrious, or devoted to marriage) for the purpose of benefiting society has much power to shape behavior. The benefit to society is only a byproduct of sincerely held beliefs. So the end of the book, when Murray talks hopefully of a “civic Great Awakening,” in which the new upper class begins to preach what they practice, rang hollow for me. There is no possibility of a future Great Awakening without the beliefs that gave rise to the previous Great Awakenings. Murray wants the effect, but his understanding of the cause doesn’t go deep enough.

    Note: I received a review copy from the publisher. I was not asked to give a positive review.

  • The Goldilocks Principle and Journalism

    I read three articles recently that put me in mind of the fairy tale “Goldilocks and the Three Bears.” In it, three bears head out for an afternoon trip to the mall or someplace while a local vagrant, Goldilocks, breaks into their home. She tastes the porridge they have left out, saying that Papa Bear’s is “too hot,” Mama Bear’s is “too cold,” and Baby Bear’s is “just right.” She does a similar thing with the bears’ three chairs and beds, finding two extremes before settling on the third one that is “just right.” Eventually the bears come back and find her in their home. She is scared straight and becomes a productive member of society.

    When I read these three articles over a couple of days, I decided that the difference between them could be viewed as a difference in how the writer views the subject. One was “too hot,” one was “too cold,” and the last was “just right.”

    Too hot: Richard Dawkins, an Original Thinker who Bashes Orthodoxy. This article, while presenting some interesting background, reads like it was written by a card-carrying member of the Dawkins Fan Club. It is no sin to like your subject, but it is not a good thing to like your subject so much that you don’t challenge them. You end up with a profile that doesn’t actually tell anyone anything they don’t already know. This profile ends up being mildly interesting, but breaks no new ground.

    Too cold: What I Learned in Two Years at the Tea Party. This article is written by someone who spent a couple of years attending Tea Party meetings and observing the people there. The argument that the Tea Party is not all about economics is an interesting one, but the article itself is marred by the writer’s clear contempt for those he writes about.

    Just right: Dubya and Me. This article, while written by a person who explicitly points out that he disagrees with Bush politically, is a wonderful attempt to understand who George W. Bush is and why he thinks the way he does. What makes this article great is that the author, knowing that he disagrees with Bush, still attempts to understand him. This is a character trait called empathy, which has never been common. In our world, it is positively endangered.

    A lot of bad journalism comes down to being “too hot” or “too cold.” This amounts to a character flaw in the writer: either an uncritical love of the subject, or a contempt for the subject. Journalists who get it “just right” are able to show empathy for the subjects they find it hard to relate to, and challenge the subjects they find it easy to relate to.

  • Book Review: Cross and Crescent

    This is the first book about Islam from a Christian perspective that I have read, so I don’t have anything to compare it to. Colin Chapman is (or was, at the time this book was published) a lecturer in Lebanon. He begins the book by talking about how to understand Islam. Then he moves on to how Christians might interact with Muslims, and closes with a section on how Christians might share their faith with Muslims.

    I appreciated Chapman’s irenic tone above all. I found it a genuinely Christian alternative to some of the “West vs. East” culture war rhetoric that I have witnessed in the United States, especially within the last 10 years. He is measured in his recommendations, and takes pains to allow Muslims to describe what they believe in their own words. That said, he doesn’t gloss over the differences between Christianity and Islam. I especially enjoyed his conclusion on walking the way of the cross in relation to Muslims:

    Walking the way of the cross in relating to Muslims will mean following the example of One who was willing to cross barriers of race, class, sex and religion in order to meet people in the midst of their joy, pain and need. For some of us this may mean surrendering any power and privilege that are part of our history and culture, and ‘taking the very nature of a servant’ (Philippians 2:7). The cross will constantly call us to leave the safety of our own circle and to reach out to that other community or that other individual in love and hope.

    Walking the way of the cross in understanding Islam will mean trying to get inside the mind and heart of Islam, not to judge or condemn but to sit where they sit. Words such as identification and empathy can be more than easy slogans. Sooner or later, however, we will have to understand why, from the Muslim point of view, the cross is a symbol of weakness, shame and defeat. In their way of thinking it is both a stumbling block and foolishness, and can never be the final clue to the working of an all-powerful God. (345-6)

    Negatively, I thought some of his quotes from other writers were longer than necessary, and he repeated himself more often than necessary. Apart from those quibbles, I’d recommend this book to a Christian seeking to respond to Islam in a distinctively Christian way.

  • Book Review: The Next Christians

    I got this book out of the library a few weeks ago because I had been hearing more and more lately about the author, Gabe Lyons. He is the founder of Q, an organization that exists to “educate Christians on their historic responsibility to renew culture.” (they also have a great web site with many thought-provoking essays) He previously co-wrote unChristian with David Kinnaman.

    Lyons says that there is a new group of Christians, which he calls the “Next Christians.” In contrast to previously popular ways of engaging culture, Next Christians are

    provoked, not offended;
    creators, not critics;
    called, not employed;
    grounded, not distracted;
    in community, not alone; and
    countercultural, not “relevant.”

    There was a lot in this book that I enjoyed, particularly the stories Lyons told about particular people and groups who he says belong to the Next Christians. In particular, I agree with Lyons that creating culture rather than merely critiquing it is a much more productive way for Christians to engage the world around them.

    However, Lyons could have done a better job of describing the ways that Christians who are not “Next Christians” engage with culture. Early in the book he gives a taxonomy of various groups, and I do not think that he was entirely fair to those groups that he thinks are more antagonistic to culture. I don’t believe that they would recognize themselves in his description of them.

    Also, a few critiques of this book that I have read claim that Lyons urging Christians to primarily adopt a ministry of restoration is unbiblical. I believe that it is in fact biblical, but Lyons could have spent more time talking about how restoration related to evangelism and making disciples (which the critics thought Lyons was throwing out the window). I once listened to a couple of talks given by John Stackhouse with the titles “Our (Temporary) Christian Calling: Make Disciples” and “Our (Permanent) Human Calling: Make Shalom.” This neatly encapsulates how the two ought to relate, and it would have been helpful if Lyons had made this more clear.

  • Cultural Identity and the War on Christmas

    I’ve been thinking about the War on Christmas recently. The War on Christmas, in case you are blessed enough to have not heard of it, is the debate over whether to have a specific celebration of Christmas or a generic celebration of various holidays this time of year. It includes the question of whether to say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays,” whether to have a Christmas parade or a holiday parade, and whether nativity scenes should be permitted on public property. I wrote a satirical post on it last year, but this time around I’d like to take a more serious look at it.

    First, I want to say that I don’t think there is anything wrong with wishing one another a merry Christmas. After all, if you celebrate Christmas, there is no reason why you shouldn’t say “Merry Christmas” to one another. The only possible reason why I wouldn’t like saying “Merry Christmas” at this point in the liturgical year is that we are still technically in the season of Advent.

    But the War on Christmas is not about wishing one another a merry Christmas; it is about preserving cultural identity. We don’t say “Merry Christmas” because we want people to have a merry Christmas; we say “Merry Christmas” because WE CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS AND WE’RE NOT GOING TO LET ANYONE TELL US WE CAN’T TALK ABOUT CHRISTMAS IN PUBLIC. See the difference? I mean, besides the capital letters. In the first case, we are celebrating what Christmas means for us: the Incarnation, the fulfillment of long-ago promises, the hope that Jesus will come again. In the second case, all of that is shoved to the background. What takes center stage is our identity as Christmas-celebrants as opposed to celebrants of other holidays.

    This is ironic, because Jesus clashed with those Jews who made much of their cultural identity. They stressed that they were descendants (sperma) of Abraham and disciples of Moses (Jn 8:33, 39; 9:28). Jesus acknowledged that they were Abraham’s descendants, but that wasn’t enough for him. He stressed instead that if they were really Abraham’s children (tekna), they would be doing what Abraham did (Jn 8:39-40). Cultural identity as Abraham’s descendants was not enough; they needed to be Abraham’s children, which meant doing what Abraham did. John the Baptist, likewise, told the Pharisees and Sadducees who came out to see him that cultural identity was not enough (Mt 3:7-10; Lk 3:8-9). People needed to produce fruit in keeping with repentance.

    I have sympathy for folks who want to be the kind of people who say “Merry Christmas.” The media tells us that this is an important battle to fight, and after all, being a person who says “Merry Christmas” is a lot easier than being a disciple. But let’s not fool ourselves; it is the latter which is required of Christians.

    By all means, wish people a merry Christmas. But don’t do it because you want to be the kind of person (or church) who says “Merry Christmas.” Do it because Christmas is a joyous season – a time to celebrate God’s faithfulness – and you want others to share in that joy. The moment when saying “Merry Christmas” becomes less about a joyous celebration of what God has done and more about the preservation of our cultural identity, we have become Pharisees: religious people who are more focused on their religion than on the reasons behind it.

  • Why American flags in churches are a bad idea

    In the church that I grew up attending, every Sunday there was an American flag on a staff to the speaker’s right, and a Christian flag on a staff to the speaker’s left.

    I didn’t think anything of it. That was just the way it was, and that was the way it was in just about all the other churches that I visited. It wasn’t until later that I came to believe that it was idolatrous.

    “Idolatry” is a strong word, and I don’t use it lightly. What convinced me that displaying the American flag in its customary place of prominence in a church was this section of the Flag Code:

    When used on a speaker’s platform, the flag, if displayed flat, should be displayed above and behind the speaker. When displayed from a staff in a church or public auditorium, the flag of the United States of America should hold the position of superior prominence, in advance of the audience, and in the position of honor at the clergyman’s or speaker’s right as he faces the audience. Any other flag so displayed should be placed on the left of the clergyman or speaker or to the right of the audience. (italics added)

    Displaying the American flag represents allegiance to the United States. Displaying the Christian flag represents allegiance to Jesus Christ. Placing the symbol of allegiance to the United States in a superior place to the symbol of allegiance to Jesus Christ is idolatry, because the Bible tells Christians that Jesus is Lord of all (Ps. 72:8-11; Php. 2:9-11; Rev. 12:5, 19:5). It also says that civil government is a servant of God, and not the other way around (Rom. 13:4; Jer. 25:9). It also says that when God and civil authority are in conflict, that it is God who must be obeyed (Acts 5:29; 1 Ki. 21:2-3).

    Many Christians think that there is no conflict between giving honor to the United States and giving honor to God. Personally, I don’t think that there is a problem with giving honor to the United States in the proper context. I have no problem with saying the Pledge of Allegiance, because there is no other country in the world to which I have greater allegiance. I sing the National Anthem at baseball games.

    The Flag Code insists that the United States flag must be in the place of highest prominence wherever it is displayed. This means, in my opinion, that it should not be displayed in a place where Jesus Christ is worshiped, because to do so is idolatry.

  • Stuff Christians Like

    Mary and I went to Lake Chelan over Memorial Day weekend, and on the drive we listened to the audiobook of Stuff Christians Like by Jonathan Acuff. It is a book spun off of the Web site of the same name, which in turn is a Christian version of Stuff White People Like, a Web site (and book) by Christian Lander. I first heard about the Web site almost two years ago from my friend Tony, who told me about #124: The kid that makes out with girls from other youth groups. When I saw that the book was a free download from christianaudio.com (sadly, this has now expired, though they have a new free download each month), I got it right away.

    Mary and I both loved it. For one thing, this is what an audiobook ought to be: it is read by the author, and includes explanatory (and often humorous) asides that are not included in the print version. Acuff is a pastor’s kid/copywriter who lives in Atlanta and understands the North American evangelical subculture. For example, he understands how ironic it is that one thing that Christians like – making their own version of something that is popular in wider culture – is the very thing that he is doing.

    Wander over to the site and check it out. If you are taking a road trip with me in the future, we can listen to the book. Otherwise, you can buy the audiobook or print version (which I’m told has neat diagrams).

    Before I go, I wanted to direct you to one of my favorites: #269: Understanding how metrosexual your worship leader is (a handy guide).

  • Truth Project 9: The State (Whose Law?)

    In tour nine of the Truth Project, Del looks at the State. He begins with a definition of politics from the first edition of Webster’s dictionary, 1828:

    The science of government; that part of ethics which consists in the regulation and government of a nation or state, for the preservation of its safety, peace and prosperity; comprehending the defense of its existence and rights against foreign control or conquest … and the protection or its citizens in their rights, with the preservation and improvement of their morals.”

    Del then asks his audience whether the state can steal. He sets out to give his answer to this question by telling the story of a couple who had worked throughout their lives on a farm, and when the husband died the state took half of their property. He also gives an example from 1 Kings 21, where King Ahab and Jezebel had Naboth killed so they could take his vineyard. God, speaking through Elijah the prophet, calls this murder and theft. So, Del says, the state can steal.

    Then Del gives another example from Daniel 4:29-35, telling the story of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. Nebuchadnezzar looks out over his kingdom and swells with pride at how he built it all himself, and God judges him for his pride by making him live like an animal for a while. Del asks, “Who is in control here?” The answer is that God is sovereign over kings, and he cites several Bible verses (Proverbs 16:9-10, Proverbs 21:1, Daniel 2:21, Romans 9:17) to that effect.

    Del then turns to the question of what the sphere of the state is supposed to look like. He refers to 1 Samuel 8 and asks why Israel asked for a king. Del’s answer is that it was because their leadership (at that time, Samuel’s sons) was corrupt and they wanted to change their form of leadership. Samuel then warned them that if they got a king, that king would take what belongs to God. This is a warning, says Del, that they would become as slaves.

    So is the king sovereign over every sphere? Del turns to Abraham Kuyper and Neo-Calvinism’s notion of “sphere sovereignty” to explain this. Basically, sphere sovereignty is the idea that each sphere of life (e.g. the state, the church, the family, labor) has its own responsibilities and authority, and stands equal to other spheres of life (to paraphrase Wikipedia). The question is whether the state has sovereignty over other spheres. Del cites 2 Chronicles 26, the story of King Uzziah going into the temple to burn incense (and being punished with leprosy for it), as an example of the state (the king) meddling with the church (the temple). “This idea of sphere sovereignty,” Del sums up, “is critical to God.” This is why, in cowboy movies set in the Old West, criminals running from a posse can run into a church and the posse can’t follow them in. The churches exist outside the state’s sovereignty.

    Then Del cites Romans 13:1-6, pulling out three main ideas: authority, submission and purpose of the state. Del says that delegation of authority is found within the nature of God (John 17:1-2, 1 Corinthians 15:24, 27-28), and various forms of submission are found in the Bible (wives “subject” to their husbands, bondslaves “subject” to their masters, people “subject” to their rulers, all in Titus 2-3). Christians have the duty to pay taxes, respect and honor to the civil magistrate (Romans 13:7, 1 Peter 2:17). The purpose of the state is to punish evil and condone good. The state (in the form of the civil magistrate), says Del, is an agent of God’s wrath. If the state doesn’t know the basis for calling something good or evil, then good becomes whatever is in the state’s best interests.

    Del expands on this theme of the state doing what is in its own best interests by talking about pathologies that we have seen develop in various states throughout history. “The problem with pathologies in this sphere,” Del says, “is that they end in mass graves.” The one pathology that Del pays the most attention to is the rise of the state, when the state removes God and takes over sovereignty of other spheres. Del says that without God, this rise of the state continues until we have a global state.

    Del concludes that one of the attributes that marked the Roman Empire at its end was an increased desire to live off the state. Del returns to 1 Samuel 8 to say that when we look to the state (or a king) for our salvation and guidance, we are rejecting God.

    Del certainly covered a lot in this tour, and as is the case much of the time, I liked a lot of what he said. I agree with Del that God is sovereign over the state and that it is possible for the state to steal. I also agree that one of the effects of a loss of reliance on the transcendent God is that might makes right. There becomes no standard other than self-interest. And I also agree that in our sinful world, the state tends to aggrandize itself.

    But as one person in my discussion group put it, I like it when Del is speaking directly from the Bible, but when he doesn’t, not as much. In this tour, he tacitly endorsed the standard conservative American emphases of small government and property rights. In fact, much of this tour was standard conservative fare. Now, it may be possible to make a biblical argument for such things as property rights and limited government, but Del doesn’t make that argument. And any time Christianity is presented as being compatible with a non-Christian ideology (as conservatism is—and liberalism, too), red flags go up for me. Christians may well be on the same side of certain issues as followers of ideologies, but when Christianity is aligned with an ideology without tension and without remainder, that is a major no-no.

    Also, he accepted it as a given that sphere sovereignty is there in the Bible and that this is the way all Christians should view various spheres of life. However, not all Christians think that sphere sovereignty is self-evidently the way Christians ought to view the world. Del’s example from 2 Chronicles 26, in particular, can be explained in another way than appealing to sphere sovereignty. Del implies that the reason why King Uzziah broke out in leprosy was because God wanted to keep the spheres of government and religion separate. But as 2 Chronicles 26:16 says, the great sin of Uzziah was pride. He was overstepping his bounds, for sure, but the reason God was angry with him was because he did not think he needed to be consecrated (as the priests were) to offer incense. I don’t think that this would have been a problem if it had gone the other way, or if Uzziah had not been proud. I think of Samuel, in particular, who was a priest but who was intimately involved in the governance of Israel. I also think of David, who was king but danced before the Lord wearing a linen ephod (a priestly garment). At another point in David’s life, he and his men ate consecrated bread that was meant only for priests (1 Samuel 21). David was not condemned for either of these ventures outside of his “sphere.” There doesn’t seem to be as much biblical support for sphere sovereignty as Del would have us believe.

    Sphere sovereignty is certainly a legitimate concept through which Christians may interpret the world, but I’m saying that it’s not self-evidently the only biblical one (for example, Catholics have an idea called subsidiarity, which says that a matter should be handled by the smallest authority capable of handling it effectively). Del misleads us when he acts as if sphere sovereignty is the only game in town.

    Other than that, this was a good tour. Del’s warning at the end about the dangers of the expansion of the state and the desire to live off the state being a mark of a dying culture was perhaps too apocalyptic for my tastes. I think, for example, about the context of Romans 13. When Paul was writing, the “state” that he was talking about was the Roman Empire. I doubt whether Paul agreed fully with its ideas of what was good and what was evil. If Paul can write “let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established” about the Roman Empire, of all things, I think that Del’s apocalyptic language is a bit overblown. If Paul wants Roman Christians to submit to the rulers of the pagan Roman Empire, how come Del is so agitated about modern states, in many of which Christians at least have a political voice? I don’t want to speculate about what Del’s own politics might be, but I can’t help but wonder whether he has political interests that shape the stark language he uses at the end of this tour.