Decline and Retreat
Let me start by acknowledging the understandable desire for something like Christian Nationalism. The best part of the book is Wolfe’s chapter on “The Good of Cultural Christianity” and, in particular, the section on “Celebrating Decline.” Wolfe is right to maintain that while cultural Christianity cannot save sinners (i.e., the message of the gospel is entrusted to the church, not to the civil order), a Christian culture can be both preparative and persuasive in direction of the gospel (213). Just because hypocrisy and nominalism are dangers—dangers that ministers should and do warn against—that doesn’t mean we should welcome the collapse of social assumptions and stigmas that pushed people in the direction of biblical truth and basic morality.
Too many Christians are quick to wish away cultural Christianity without considering the alternatives. “But wouldn’t you prefer to live in a community,” Wolfe asks, “where you can trust your neighbors, having mutual expectations of conduct, speech, and beliefs according to Christian standards? Wouldn’t you prefer to have neighbors with Christian standards of decency, respect, and admonishment, even if it is merely cultural?” (223).
These are good questions. I share Wolfe’s bewilderment over the Christian leaders who seem to prefer a society hostile to Christianity. I’ve seen pastors in my own denomination look wistfully at Christians losing power and becoming a minority in the country, as if Constantine ruined everything and our influence would be so much greater if we only we could lose power and become more marginalized.
It’s one thing to acknowledge cultural Christianity comes with tradeoffs or to recognize cultural Christianity allowed for certain sins to flourish; it’s another thing to say “good riddance” to Bible Belt near-Christianity, as Russell Moore did in a 2015 article that Wolfe quotes at length (224–25). Wolfe notes how Moore rejoices that “we don’t have Mayberry anymore, if we ever did” (226). Traditional family values may have kept some children in intact families. “But,” Moore concludes, “that’s hardly revival” (225). True, not revival, but something worth preserving, if we can?
I’ve given a mini-speech in private settings probably a dozen times in the past five years. I’ve said something like this to my friends and colleagues:
We have to realize that people are scared and discouraged. They see America rapidly becoming less and less Christian. They see traditional morality—especially in areas of sex and gender—not only being tossed overboard but resolutely and legally opposed. Of course, we should not give way to ungodly fear and panic. We should not make an idol out of politics. We should not fight like jerks because that’s the way the world fights. But people want to see that their Christian leaders—pastors, thinkers, writers, institutional heads—are willing to fight for the truth. You may think your people spend too much time watching Tucker Carlson, or retweeting Ben Shapiro, or looking for Jordan Peterson videos on YouTube, or reading the latest stuff from Doug Wilson—and I have theological disagreements with all of them (after all, some of them aren’t even Christians)—but people are drawn to them because they offer a confident assertion of truth. Our people can see the world being overrun by moral chaos, and they want help in mounting a courageous resistance; instead, they are getting a respectable retreat.
The online “winsomeness” debate of 2022 was a reprise of the “empathy” debate of 2021. In both instances, someone raises the point, “Hey, that word should not represent the sum total of our Christian witness. In fact, by itself, that word may smuggle in some bad ideas and assumptions.” A number of voices chime in in agreement.
In response, other Christians say, “Woah, wait a minute. Jesus was full of compassion. We should be kind to one another and love our neighbors. Why are you anti-Jesus?” Which prompts the first group to say, “That’s not really what we were talking about.” Meanwhile, another group runs with the idea that “winsomeness” and “empathy” are bad and concludes that if you don’t assert yourself with maximum obnoxiousness and offensiveness, then you’re a Big Eva Squish. Lather, rinse, repeat. The conversation devolves into the usual taking of sides.
As frustrating as those discussions can be, they highlight an important difference in evangelical sensibilities. I’ve used the word “winsome” for years. It’s a good word. One of the unofficial slogans of Reformed Theological Seminary, where I gladly serve, is “winsomely Reformed.” If “winsome” means we engage in the battle of ideas with respect and civility, looking to build bridges where we can, then it’s certainly a worthwhile goal. The problem is when “winsomeness” and “empathy” get to be defined not by our words and deeds but by how our words and deeds make people feel. “I will be kind” is Christianity. “I will not do anything to jeopardize your good opinion of me” is capitulation.
The other problem is that winsomeness almost always runs in one direction. The “winsome” folks are careful to speak respectfully and humbly to an LGBT+ audience, while they’re eager to speak “prophetically” to the MAGA crowd. Many conservative Christians are tired of always being on the defensive and always having to communicate their convictions in ways that left-leaning secularists approve of. They want more than a tiny island of religious freedom where we promise not to bother anyone; they want a vigorous defense of what’s true.
The appeal of something like Christian Nationalism is that it presents a muscular alternative to surrender and defeat. Few conservative Christians have anything like a sophisticated political philosophy. But they know gay so-called marriage is wrong and drag queen story hour is bad. So if the two choices in political philosophy are (1) supporting gay “marriage” because that’s what pluralism demands and defending drag queen story hour as a blessing of liberty or (2) Christian Nationalism, millions of Christians in this country are going to choose the latter. I imagine the same basic equation explains the newfound interest in Catholic integralism as well.
I sympathize with the reasons many Christians want something like Christian Nationalism. They aren’t necessarily looking for culture warriors. They just don’t want to be told that the increasing hostility toward Christian ethics is all a figment of their imagination or really their own fault. These Christians are looking for leadership. They’re looking for confidence. They’re looking for a way to assert not only that Christian ideas have the right to exist but that Christian ideas are right. When a 475-page book with hundreds of footnotes from people like Althusius and Turretin reaches the top 100 on Amazon, you know something deeper is going on than a passion for political theory. Many Christians want an alternative to decline and retreat. So do I. But Christian Nationalism is not the answer.
Difficult Task
I’m going to get to my critique, but first let me make some preliminary remarks about what makes this book difficult to review.
For starters, it’s a long book, covering a lot of ground—from philosophy to history to theology to political theory. Wolfe has a lot to say, and there’s a lot that can be said in response. But a book review is not a book, so the reviewer has to practice restraint. If you want a fuller summary and more comprehensive evaluation of the book, I recommend Neil Shenvi’s four-part review.
Second, this is a personal book. Although there are plenty of footnotes and evidence of academic research, this volume is not meant to be a dispassionate scholarly reflection on the nature of civil society. As Wolfe says in the last paragraph on the last page, “This book is not an intellectual exercise, nor intended simply to ‘contribute to the field’ of Christian political theory. It is personal. It is a vision of the future, and my family is a part of that future” (478).
With that aim, it’s hard to know whether the book should be reviewed as a work of political theorizing, as a work of historical retrieval, or as a personal manifesto. Wolfe isn’t just arguing for the establishment principle or for legislating both tables of the Mosaic law, he’s justifying violent revolution (324) and calling for “the Great Renewal” (435). It would be a mistake to think Wolfe’s interest is in settling antiquarian debates.
Third, reviewing The Case for Christian Nationalism is difficult because Wolfe stacks the rhetorical deck against critical engagement with his claims and his ideas. At the beginning of the book, Wolfe emphasizes his commitment to use “an older style” of writing that relies on actual arguments, logical coherence, and scholarly demonstration. He laments the fact that so many Christians “resort to rhetorical devices, tweetable shibboleths, and credibility development to assert disparate principles and applications” (19–20). He decries those who “personally attack those who would disagree” and “appeal to common prejudice or sentiment” (20).
And yet, Wolfe doesn’t abide by these same ideals in dealing with those who would disagree with his ideas. He speaks of his opponents as “regime evangelicals” (341) and describes them as “rhetorically enslaved to the sentiments of a coastal elite” (456). Likewise, he anticipates that “the most vociferous critics [of his pro-Russian views] will be [Globalist American Empire]–affirming Christians” (445).
Just as the left has predetermined that any opposition to its ideology must be attributable to racism, sexism, homophobia, and transphobia, so some voices on the right have predetermined that anyone unwilling to go all the way in the direction of Christian Nationalism must be sellouts eager to please a nefarious cabal of secular elites. This posture hardly encourages an open and honest exchange of ideas.
These difficulties notwithstanding, I want to offer a substantive critique of The Case for Christian Nationalism. I’ll group my concerns under four headings: nations and ethnicity, the nature of the church, Protestant political thought, and the way forward.
1. Nations and Ethnicity
By Wolfe’s own admission, his definitions are often idiosyncratic, and by my estimation, they’re not entirely consistent. For example, the all-important concept of “nation” sometimes operates in Wolfe’s thinking more organically like an ethnicity, sometimes more loosely like a culture, sometimes more locally like a love of people and place, and sometimes more traditionally like a nation-state with a recognizable set of laws, a governing magistrate, and the power of the sword. The front cover contains a picture of America with a cross in the middle, so the book would seem to be about the nation-state we know as the United States of America. But at other times, it’s clear Wolfe doesn’t like that idea of “nation” and is animated by a different understanding of nation—one that defines “nationalism” as the natural good of becoming conscious of your own “people-group,” being for your own people-group, and keeping your people-group distinct from other people-groups (135).
There are many problems with Wolfe’s defense of this “similarity principle.” It’s built upon a weak and speculative foundation about how people would have formed distinct nations even without the fall, it gives too much credence to our own fallen inclinations, and it gives too little consideration for how our desire for “similarity” has been tainted by sin. Grace may perfect nature, but it often does so in ways that feel unnatural to us.
Likewise, Wolfe’s argument doesn’t reckon with the way the Bible relativizes our sense of family (Mark 3:31–35), tears down dividing walls between people groups (Eph. 2:11–22), and presents a multitribal and multilingual reality (and hoped-for future) as a heavenly good (Rev. 5:9–10).
I also fail to see how Wolfe’s rejection of the West’s universalizing tendency squares with Wolfe’s use of natural theology and natural law (which are, by definition, universally accessible, leading to truths than can be universally affirmed). Shenvi’s review is particularly good on the issue of ethnicity, so I won’t repeat all the same arguments here.
But before moving on from this point, it’s worth mentioning how Wolfe leaves a number of serious questions unanswered. Wolfe often decries the mental habit, forced upon us by secular elites, that makes Christian nationalists feel the need to prove they’re not racists or kinists or xenophobes. Wolfe refuses to play by those rules (456–57). I understand the frustration. But surely in a 500-page book, it wouldn’t have been misplaced, or kowtowing to the spirit of the age, for Wolfe to make clear exactly what he is and isn’t arguing for (especially when he quotes approvingly from Samuel Francis on VDARE.com).
Wolfe says a mark of nationalism is that “each people group has a right to be for itself” (118), and that “no nation (properly conceived) is composed of two or more ethnicities” (135), and that our “instinct to conduct everyday life among similar people is natural, and being natural, it is for your good” (142), and that “to exclude an out-group is to recognize a universal good for man” (145), and that “spiritual unity is inadequate for formal ecclesial unity” (200), and that “the most suitable condition for a group of people to successfully pursue the complete good is one of cultural similarity” (201).
What are we to do with these statements? Is Wolfe’s main concern about immigration policy for a nation-state? That’s part of what animates his warning against self-immolation and national suicide (171). Is he making the argument that we need not be ashamed to love our family, our country, and our place more than other families, countries, and places? That’s also part of his concern; fair enough.
But you don’t have to be a left-wing watchdog to wonder how these “similarity” arguments work out in practice. In a footnote, Wolfe rejects modern racialist principles and denies that he’s making a “white nationalist” argument (119), but if we cannot accept the creedal nation concept, and if ethnicities are grouped by cultural similarity, it’s an open question how much cooperation and togetherness blacks and whites (not to mention Asians and Hispanics and Native Americans) will ever share—or if they should even try to live and worship together.
Is this really the direction we’re to be pushed by the gospel? Are we really to pursue a social ordering on earth so different from that which is present in heaven? Are we really so sure that our love for people like us and our ostracism of people unlike us are God-given inclinations and not fallen ones?
If there were no other problems with the book, Wolfe’s vigorous defense of becoming “more exclusive and ethnic-focused” (459) should stop in their tracks all who are ready to follow Wolfe’s vision for national renewal. The fact that the left thinks racism is everywhere doesn’t mean racism is nowhere. Wolfe may eschew contemporary racialist categories, but he doesn’t make clear how his ideas on kinship are different from racist ideas of the past that have been used to forbid interracial marriage and to enforce the legal injustice of “separate but equal.”
By God’s grace, America has made great strides in overcoming racism in the past 60 years. I fail to see how Wolfe’s vision isn’t a giant step in the wrong direction.
2. Nature of the Church
Key to Wolfe’s political theory is the contention that “a Christian nation is a nation whose particular earthly way of life has been ordered to heavenly life in Christ” (174). I will say more about Protestant political thought in the next section. My criticism at present isn’t about moral philosophy as much as it’s about systematic theology.
To his credit, Wolfe clearly distinguishes between the civil realm and the ecclesial realm. He holds to a (kind of) two-kingdom theology. Wolfe’s project doesn’t entail theocracy; neither is it theonomy: “The Christian nation is not the spiritual kingdom of Christ or the immanentized eschaton; it is not founded in principles of grace or the Gospel” (186). Nevertheless, civil government ought to direct people to the Christian religion because “an earthly kingdom is a Christian kingdom when it orders the people to the kingdom of heaven” (195).
Wolfe doesn’t conflate the church and the world, but he argues that “the Christian nation is the complete image of eternal life on earth.” Wolfe rejects the idea of the church as a “colony” or “outpost” of heaven (222). The church may give us the “principal image” of heavenly life (public worship), but only a Christian nation can give us the “complete image” of heavenly life. “For in addition to being a worshipping people, the Christian nation has submitted to magistrates and constitutes a people whose cultural practices and self-conception provide a foretaste of heaven” (223). In short, Wolfe maintains that a Christian nation should be ordered “to make the earthly city an analog of the heavenly city” (209).
I disagree with this conclusion. It’s one thing to suggest civil society may bear resemblance to heavenly realities or that in the life to come we’ll more deeply enjoy whatever is excellent in this life. It’s another to suggest the analog of the heavenly city is to be found in the earthly city. Contrary to Wolfe, I maintain the church is an “outpost” or “embassy” or “colony” of the heavenly city.
This comports with the sweep of redemptive history: the reality of heavenly paradise is first found in Eden; then a reflection of Edenic bliss is to be found in the nation of Israel (the land in which God dwells, described with Edenic language and marked by Edenic boundaries); at present God’s dwelling is with his people in the church (where the judicial punishments in Israel are recalibrated as ecclesiastical disfellowshipping and the picture of Edenic plenty is manifested by giving generously to our brothers and sisters); and finally at the consummation will the kingdom of this world become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ (Rev. 11:15).

Is biblical inerrancy just for the original version? The substance of this question is whether our English (or French, or German, or Spanish, etc.) translations may be considered inerrant? The short answer is: yes, we may regard translations as inerrant insofar as they accurately reflect the original text (autographa).
First, let us define our terms. The historic Christian church has always regarded Scripture as the inspired, infallible Word of God. In the Nicene-Constantinoplitan Creed (AD 381), the church universal confesses that the “Holy Spirit… spoke by the prophets.” We regularly see the fathers of the church describing Scripture as infallible, i.e., incapable of error. When we say that Scripture is inspired, we mean “breathed out by God” (θεόπνευστος; 2 Tim. 3:16). It means that the Prophets and Apostles wrote as they were “carried along” by the Holy Spirit (2 Pet. 1:21).
This is what the Westminster Divines wrote and what the Reformed churches confess regarding the importance of both the original texts and translations:

The Old Testament in Hebrew (which was the native language of the people of God of old), and the New Testament in Greek (which, at the time of the writing of it, was most generally known to the nations), being immediately inspired by God, and, by his singular care and providence, kept pure in all ages, are therefore authentical; so as, in all controversies of religion, the church is finally to appeal unto them. But, because these original tongues are not known to all the people of God, who have right unto, and interest in the Scriptures, and are commanded, in the fear of God, to read and search them, therefore they are to be translated into the vulgar language of every nation unto which they come, that, the Word of God dwelling plentifully in all, they may worship him in an acceptable manner; and, through patience and comfort of the Scriptures, may have hope (WCF 1.8).

The original texts, the autographs, the Hebrew, Aramaic (parts of the Old Testament are in Aramaic), and Greek texts given by the Holy Spirit, through the Prophets and Apostles, are inspired, infallible, and inerrant.
That last adjective, inerrant, has been a source of controversy since the late nineteenth century when orthodox Christians of various traditions began using it to say that not only is Scripture infallible but it is actually without error. We adopted this language to respond to the rationalist (i.e., those who put human reason above divine revelation) critics of Scripture. For more on the inerrancy of Scripture, see these resources.
The final authority for Christian doctrine and the Christian life is the Word of God in the original languages.
The final authority for Christian doctrine and the Christian life is, as the Westminster Divines wrote, the Word of God in the original languages. Textual criticism is the business of deciding, when there is a question, what the original text was, i.e., which is the most likely reading or text in a particular instance. Biblical scholars have always practiced textual criticism: the ancient fathers did it, the Renaissance scholars advanced the practice, as did the Protestant Reformers. The questions grew, however, in the late nineteenth century when scholars found a large cache of ancient texts in Egypt. It is important to note, however, that none of the various readings substantially changes biblical teaching. Many of them, particularly in the New Testament, are obvious later emendations by copyists who were seeking to clarify something that they found troubling. Others were marginal notes that came to be copied into the body of the text. We have a marvelous treasury of ancient texts of the the Scriptures, and the Christian may have a high degree of confidence that within those texts we have the autographs, i.e., the text of Scripture as given by the Spirit through the Prophets and Apostles. For more on this see these resources.
Because it is Scripture in the original languages that norms our faith and practice, it is essential that our pastors and teachers receive a genuine education in the original languages. This is why we should expect them to continue learn and progress in their knowledge and use of the original languages in pastoral ministry. For centuries before the Renaissance and Reformation, most the ministers in the Western church lost the ability to read the Scriptures in the original languages. Indeed, to find an illiterate priest (one who could not read at all) was not unknown. In the Greek church, of course, they could at least read the New Testament but it was not until the Renaissance that the knowledge of Hebrew and Greek began to return more widely and to be taught again in the universities, where pastors were educated. The Reformed churches understood and appreciated the value of the knowledge of the original languages and expected the pastors to learn and use them.
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The game should be familiar by now, but evidently it isn’t. So let’s review the rules. There are no rules. This is how the game is played. An allegation is made. It does not have to be credible; the alleged offense simply has to be egregious. Social virtue requires the allegation be accepted at face value. Not taken seriously and investigated, but accepted as self-attesting.

I did not attend the 2022 General Assembly of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church which met at Eastern University on June 8-14, 2022. I was honored and grateful to be chosen by our presbytery as a commissioner, but the sudden onset of severe illness landed me in the Emergency Room less than 24 hours before my scheduled departure, and I remained sick and weak beyond the conclusion of the Assembly. It was a hard providence, more so because this year’s GA was accompanied by controversy which will continue to be the subject of conversation for months, and perhaps years, to come.
Many reports have been made about the allegations of racism and the Assembly’s subsequent statements which were published online. You can read summaries of the incident in the OPC Daily Report, by a commissioner HERE, by a non-commissioned minister HERE, and in an article from Christianity Today HERE. Ministers in the OPC were also informed of the events in a letter from the denomination’s Stated Clerk on June 17th. Students and staff at Eastern University alleged four incidents of racial disparagement by commissioners of the OPC. These were reported to the Assembly on Thursday, June 9th. The GA was also informed such behavior could be grounds for canceling their contract and disbanding the Assembly. The next day, Friday, June 10th, the Assembly was presented with a “statement of regret and sorrow.” According to multiple reports, which have not been disputed to my knowledge, the Assembly was asked not to debate the motion which was then adopted without dissent.
“The 88th (2022) General Assembly of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church hereby expresses to the faculty, staff, and students of Eastern University its grief, sorrow, and disgust regarding four recent incidents of racial disparagement reported being made by some present at our Assembly. There is no place in the church for such conduct.
“The church seeks to magnify and honor Christ as the Creator of every human being, each one reflecting dignity and value as the image of God. Therefore, in accordance with God’s Word and the two great laws of love, we repudiate and condemn all sins of racism, hatred, and prejudice, as transgressions against our Holy God, who calls us to love and honor all people. In keeping with the law of God and the right order of the church for Christ’s honor, we resolve to deal directly and biblically with any such sins of hatred committed by members of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. In keeping with the gospel, we resolve to offer our assistance to Eastern University to confront offender(s) and seek reconciliation.”
The statement was delivered to the University which accepted it and considered the matter closed. It was also published immediately online via the OPC’s social media accounts, a decision which had not been discussed or disclosed to the Assembly when the statement was presented on the floor.
There has been a firestorm of criticism and controversy online since the allegations were made and the Assembly’s statement of regret was published. Critics of the OPC have seen this as further evidence that the denomination is racist and compromised. Others take the way in which the controversy played out as evidence of a different sort of compromise in the OPC, the sort of compromise that operates from the fear of man and hopes to placate angry mobs with winsome words and assurance that they really do hate the same things.
On the last day of the Assembly, Tuesday, June 14th, the moderator updated commissioners on the earlier allegations. As reported by the OPC on her website and social media outlets:

Regarding the four incidents of reported racism on campus, I am thankful to report that the individual responsible for the first two incidents surrounding remarks about the 13th Amendment has been identified. He was ashamed to come forward on his own, as his statements were a misunderstood attempt at humor. They were not intended as a racist remark. He desires and is seeking to apologize to those offended. Please pray for those hurt by his careless words and for this brother’s heart in all of this.
The one responsible for the third and most egregious statement has not been seen on campus since the incident. That means we know it’s not a commissioner. We frankly have no idea who it is.
Regarding the fourth incident, we were able to better understand what transpired in the cafeteria. It was not words spoken, but was an action that we now understand as confusion over how the cafeteria is organized, whether it was self-service or whether we would be served by the staff. We are seeking to work this out with those who were offended.

Four allegations of racially disparaging remarks were made. The alleged offenders were not identified. No corroborating evidence was presented. The allegations were unsubstantiated and uninvestigated. But the GA approved and published a statement of regret and sorrow. Some have said such a statement is always appropriate, that no specific apology was offered and no admission of guilt was made. The sincerity of those defending the statement is not in question. Some of them are personal friends, and I hold them in love and esteem. But one does become concerned that if they spin any faster they are bound to get dizzy and fall down.
The Assembly was in a difficult position. What is a man supposed to say when he is asked, “Are you still beating your wife?” The OPC chose to answer: “We express our grief, sorrow, and disgust regarding recent incidents of wife beating reported being done by some members of our Assembly.” No specific admission of guilt, only a general expression of hatred for what we all agree is a grievous sin. Surely that will convince everyone that we really are good people, right? Christianity Today moved quickly to report: “The General Assembly of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) apologized Friday for four racist incidents at its annual gathering” (source). “But we didn’t really apologize. After all, an apology is kind of an admission that we did something wrong.” As it turns out, the Assembly did do something wrong, it tried to placate angry people before it understood the game that was being played.
The GA’s statement of regret and sorrow satisfied Eastern University which allowed them to continue their work and remain to the end of their contract. But it only inflamed those committed to denouncing the OPC as racist and compromised. The careful wording of the statement was denounced by critics as not really an apology for anything at all, while others like Christianity Today characterized it as tantamount to an admission of guilt. The OPC was trapped, but the power brokers within the denomination did not seem to know it. “Are you still beating your wife?” It doesn’t matter what you say next. The allegation itself is the evidence which is accepted as sufficient for a conviction.
No one that I am aware of has said publicly what the “third and most egregious statement” alleged was, and that is because it involved naughty words that are not to be publicly uttered, even if the poor DA is only reading a persecuted actor’s own text messages aloud. The GA is not to be faulted for being in a difficult position. No one can control the kinds of allegations that are made, especially in our current climate. Anyone can allege anything. But the Assembly was at fault for failing to recognize the game being played, and that one allegation should have clearly indicated it, even if they didn’t recognize it from the others.
If a commissioner at GA violated God’s law—if he spoke or acted unjustly, demeaned or slandered someone, or was malicious and hateful—then he should be confronted, charged, and publicly disciplined. But to issue a public statement of regret in response to unsubstantiated, uninvestigated, and ultimately unfounded allegations of wrongdoing is unwise to the point of absurdity. It may have been well-meant, but it was an error, one that is now too late to correct. In today’s climate a person can claim to be offended by almost anything. Some of the same people most opposed to making public statements as an Assembly on the priority of public worship and the evil of statist tyranny in the aftermath of COVID lockdowns were the most willing to issue a public statement of regret because someone claimed to be offended. Now we discover their wounded feelings might not have been truly wounded after all.
The GA did not err in expressing abhorrence of racism. They erred in giving credibility to allegations of offense without exercising due diligence in understanding what was going on. This was contrary to the duties of the ninth commandment which requires “the preserving and promoting of truth between man and man, and the good name of our neighbor… unwillingness to admit of an evil report… discouraging talebearers… and slanderers; [and] love and care of our own good name, and defending it when need requireth” (WLC 144). The GA failed to be “wise as serpents,” and by admitting an evil report, encouraging slander, and failing to love and care for the OPC’s good name, they likewise failed to be “harmless as doves” (Matt. 10:16). Issuing a public statement of regret before knowing the facts or investigating the allegations inadvertently but shamefully prejudiced “the truth, and the good name of our neighbors, as well as our own” (WLC 145). The GA’s actions were also contrary to the OPC’s Book of Discipline which requires a specific charge to be stated, specifications supporting the charge, credible corroboration of the charge, and a preliminary investigation to determine the substance of the allegation (BD III). Both Scripture and the Book of Discipline require that no charge “be admitted against an elder, unless it is brought by two or more persons” (BD III.1; 1Tim. 5:19).
The game should be familiar by now, but evidently it isn’t. So let’s review the rules. There are no rules. This is how the game is played. An allegation is made. It does not have to be credible; the alleged offense simply has to be egregious. Social virtue requires the allegation be accepted at face value. Not taken seriously and investigated, but accepted as self-attesting. Believe all women, except the women who say such a standard is unjust and absurd. In this case, believe all victims of racism, even if there is no evidence they are victims of racism. If they say they are, if they feel they are, if they identify as such, you are obligated to believe them. If you don’t believe them, if you withhold judgment until you can investigate the claim, then you are a racist. If you accept their claim without evidence and express your regret and sorrow, you are admitting that you are a racist. Whether you respond with regret or reserve comment, you are a racist, because they said you are. That’s not fair, you may say. But that is the game.
The Devil once challenged Jesus to turn stones into bread. What could be wrong with doing so? He multiplied bread on other occasions so that his disciples might eat. Skilled theologians will point out that such a miracle is inconsistent with Jesus’s mission and the Father’s authority. It is not the proper way to exercise the Spirit’s power and thus is a temptation to depart from the work the Father gave the Son to do. All of this is true, but there is also a more basic answer. It is always wrong to do something the Devil asks you to do.
The OPC does not need greater sensitivity to the grievances of professional victims, she needs a greater measure of the wisdom and discernment of Nehemiah.
Then Sanballat sent his servant to me as before, the fifth time, with an open letter in his hand. In it was written: It is reported among the nations, and Geshem says, that you and the Jews plan to rebel; therefore, according to these rumors, you are rebuilding the wall, that you may be their king. And you have also appointed prophets to proclaim concerning you at Jerusalem, saying, “There is a king in Judah!” Now these matters will be reported to the king. So come, therefore, and let us consult together. Then I sent to him, saying, “No such things as you say are being done, but you invent them in your own heart.” For they all were trying to make us afraid, saying, “Their hands will be weakened in the work, and it will not be done.” Now therefore, O God, strengthen my hands. (Neh. 6:5-9)
Joel Ellis is a Minister in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and is Pastor of Resurrection OPC in Apache Junction, AZ. This article is used with permission.
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