No Apologies: Why Civilization Depends on the Strength of Men (Book Review)
Esolen highlights man’s undaunted agency — a spirit that seeks difficult action — an agency that acts to serve others at cost to self: “what a man wants and what a man must do are seldom the same” (16). Heavy is the crown for which feminism gropes. Much of man’s thankless labor “demands a constant self-denial, a self-effacement. It says to the men what the battle says to a soldier: ‘You are not the central thing. This work is. Do it’” (38). A man must not just be physically strong but strong of spirit to rise to the challenge and needs of family and society. “I mean here to reject every philosophy that would cut the sinews of man” (49). Wryly, Esolen observes, “The world cannot run on courses in sociology or on politically enlightened novels. They do not think, Who’s going to dig that well?” (41, emphasis original). Good men gladly grab the shovel.
Editor’s note: The following essay appears in the Fall 2023 issue of Eikon.
Anthony Esolen. No Apologies: Why Civilization Depends on the Strength of Men. Washington, D.C.: Regnery Gateway, 2022.
As a university student, I remember stumbling upon an article in The Atlantic, “The End of Men.” Women now surpassed men in the workforce — to the betterment of society? Were women better adapted to a post-industrial workplace than men? Had we finally arrived at the end of men — ruling, leading, providing? That was over a decade ago.
Into a world further adrift in confusion, Anthony Esolen has written a book he himself wished need not be written. But write it, he did. And read it, we should. The title contains the tone — No Apologies — the subtitle, a thesis — Why Civilization Depends on the Strength of Men. Esolen attempts to convince us of what was once obvious: that this world does not run by magic but is built and sustained by the might of men living happily as men.
What if we have come to the end of men? “It would mean our end, our death; imagine a great city, rotting at the core, with no one strong enough to shore up the ruins” (2). Six chapters chisel and sculpt man as civilization has needed him — then and now. And this against that ideology whose desire is contrary to the man: Feminism and all her sickly offspring.
Man as He Was Fashioned
What kind of man does Esolen place before us?
First, Esolen chisels the muscles of this gritty warrior. He displays the forte, the force, the brawn of the taller, faster, thicker, action-craving man. God created the world, man builds it, which we can easily forget in a post-industrial, technically-advanced world. “Every road you see was laid by men. Every house, church, every school, every factory, every public building was raised by the hands of men. You eat with a stainless-steel fork; the iron was mined and the carbon was quarried by men. . . . The whole of your civilization rests upon the shoulders of men who have done work that most people will not do — and that the physically weaker sex could not have done” (x).
Feminism then, to Esolen, is an ungrateful fantasy, attempting to expel man from the city he built. She scribes her scathing treaties within a well-heated, warmly-lit world built (and sustained) by men. The oil in her pen, the paper upon her desk, the plastic in her Starbucks cup, the electricity in her computer all join voice together to refute her — but she cannot hear them. And neither, often, can we. So with his engineer’s mind, Esolen examines the civilization we take for granted and points repeatedly to the small font scribbled on the infrastructure: “Made by Men.” Not by angels or elves, not by women or children, but by men — forgettable, forgotten, and too often flattened. No apologies, then, for men holding the plough to war with the earth — no one else can.
But the strength of men is not the only trait vital to our civilization.
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If Your Church Is Operating Biblically, It Will Never Be Exactly as You Would Have It
If every decision in the church, every matter of how things are down to the finest detail is exactly how I would set it up, it suggests that I am making every decision and insisting on the minutiae of how everything will be and, therefore, not relinquishing authority and decision-making capacity where it should be relinquished.
It is often interesting to me that people frequently assume, because I am the pastor of the church, everything in the church must be exactly as I would have it. I suspect, in part, because of the kind of character I have and the way I communicate, some people assume the church is as it is because I have determined it would be so. Neither is the case.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have any particular issues with my church or the things that happen in it. But not everything is the way I would have it. But that is partly because some things are the way they are because they are how others would have it. There are the things I would do differently, but they are evidently not things I have decided to make an issue of. There are then a whole bunch of things that are not how I would have them, but even if I were inclined, I cannot really do anything about because we just aren’t in any position to do so. Then there are the things that all of us would like to be different, but we are unable to do anything about. These things are just the things of any church.
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Why Nothing Will Stop Jesus from Building His Church
The church is being built at exactly the rate that Jesus wants it to be built. Not one person faster or slower. Hell has not slowed the construction by even a second. Not one person whom Jesus wants included will be excluded.
“I’m frightened.” These were my Pop’s last words. I saw him just after death, and his face and body evinced struggle. He did not profess to be a Christian, and I asked my pastor whether this struggle was perhaps a sign that God was working on his spirit, and that perhaps he could have come to salvation in his last hour?
My pastor, knowing that Pop had not professed faith, answered with a straightforward “No.”
I was a little shocked. How could he speak with such certainty?
Matthew 16:13-19 explains how, a passage that Michael Green rightly calls “the hinge on which the whole Gospel turns.”When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” (Matt. 16:13-14; all Scripture passages from NIV version)
Caesarea Philippi, at the foot of snow-veiled Mount Hermon (the source of the Jordan river) is in the picturesque northern extremity of Palestine. In Matthew’s day it was the famously pagan center of pan-worship. Jesus probably retreated there with his disciples for a time of rest and instruction.
The lessons begin with this vital question: “Who do the people say the Son of Man is?”
“Son of Man” is Jesus’ favorite designation for himself. It captures both his humanity and, from Daniel 7:13-14, both his divine nature and divine destiny of universal and eternal rule (see Matt. 26:64).
Jesus knows exactly who he is. And by his authoritative teaching, healings, domination over the demonic realm, and supernatural command and control over nature, he has categorically revealed his identity and mission.
Having seen and heard this, what conclusions have the people drawn? “John the Baptist, Elijah, or Jeremiah …” Perhaps these great prophets had been resurrected in the person of Jesus. Without doubt he reprised the spirit of their ministry.
Is there a common thread? Were these three not the more poignant and pessimistic of the prophets? Certainly they were very exalted Jewish figures. Should not Jesus be flattered by the comparison? Not at all. None of them, like Jesus, claimed a divine identity and mission—nor proved it with supernatural acts of power. They were as inferior to Jesus as the ambassador is to the King, as the creature is to the Creator (Matt. 23:37).
What may have been meant as a compliment was in truth a profound denigration, a patronizing and willful denial of Jesus’ manifest identity.
The patronizing has never paused. A person with a passing knowledge of Jesus may perhaps deign to grant his existence, or even his importance as “a great moral teacher.”
Beyond excuse, however, are those New Testament scholars who shut their eyes to the arc-lamp of his glory that blazes from every paragraph of the Gospels, and who demote and disqualify and denigrate Jesus as “a very fine example.” J. Gresham Machen described this:The modern liberal preacher reverences Jesus; he has the name of Jesus forever on his lips; he speaks of Jesus as the supreme revelation of God; he enters, or tries to enter, into the religious life of Jesus. But Jesus for him is an example of faith, not the object of faith. (Christianity and Liberalism, p. 85)
Any conception of Jesus that falls short of what Jesus revealed himself to be is not only an error or lie—it is perverse idolatry. It is to concoct a false image and to call it “Jesus.”
“But what about you?” Jesus asked.
“Who do you say I am?” The NIV captures the urgent personal emphasis and the life and death probing of the original. What do you yourself think? Your answer to this question fixes your eternal destiny!
Notice also how important it is to say what we think about Jesus. Heart and mouth must work together, for a merely inward faith is no faith at all (Rom. 10:8-11).Simon Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matt. 16:16)
The Christ is the Messiah, the Anointed One, the Divine and Saving Prophet, Priest, and King promised on every page of the Old Testament (Luke 24:27). And Jesus is the eternal “Son of the Living God” in a way that no one else is or ever can be (John 1:1-3).
Like King Josiah before him, Peter smashes down the idols to leave nothing but the One True Jesus Christ.Jesus replied, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven.” (Matt. 16:17)
The makarios, the blessed, is the one who should count themselves truly happy. This is the person the world should congratulate (see Matt. 5:3-10).
Why is Peter so blessed? Because, literally, no “flesh and blood” had brought him to this truth, least of all himself. He was blessed because the truth he had owned and expressed had been revealed (apokalyptō) by “my Father.” He had only believed and said what the Father had, first of all, placed there.
“You are one of the happy ones, Simon, whose father is Jonah, because my Father in Heaven has come and opened your eyes and mouth to say what you have just said.”
Just as Jesus prayed in Matthew 11:25-26,I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.
And now Jesus, just as he did with Jacob after wrestling with him at Peniel (Gen. 32), confirms a new name upon Peter (John 1:42).
And I tell you that you are Peter (petros), and on this rock (petra) I will build my church. (Matt. 16:18a)
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Recovering the Tradition on Natural Theology
Written by Craig A. Carter |
Tuesday, March 1, 2022
This book makes some crucial distinctions in defining natural theology that make it possible to speak more precisely about the issue. These distinctions are absolutely necessary if the debate is to take place in a profitable manner.This book is a valuable contribution to theology despite being an incomplete treatment of its topic. It is an important step in the recovery of an important doctrine that has been taught for two thousand years by the best teachers of the church, but which has come under heavy attack in the late modern West. It is true so far as it goes, but like all books it is incomplete. We need more scholarship in this area. Let me give a brief overview, after which I will list what I see as some of the strengths and weaknesses of this book.
Overview
The book has three parts. After the introduction there is a chapter on the biblical foundations of natural theology. Haines discusses Psalm 19; Acts 14:16-17; 17:26-27; Romans 1:19-20; 1:32; and 2:14-15. This list is not exhaustive, but it covers the high points well.
The next four chapters give a historical overview of natural theology from the church fathers to post-Reformation reformed theology. There is a chapter on Greek philosophy and the church fathers, which shows an embrace of natural theology from the second century onwards. One notable feature of this chapter is that it shows that even Tertullian – famous for his question “What has Jerusalem to do with Athens?” – taught that the existence of God can be known by reason alone without divine revelation. (84) Another chapter is devoted to Augustine and one to Thomas Aquinas. The last historical chapter covers Reformed theology from Calvin to the late 1700’s including both major theologians and the Reformed confessions.
A final chapter responds to four objections.The first is that natural theology does not reveal the Christian God because it does not reveal the Trinity. But this objection fails to distinguish between knowing that God exists and knowing things about his nature. It is not necessary to have a complete knowledge of the latter in order to know the former. Also, the same objection could be made against the Old Testament, but surely nobody wants to say that the Old Testament God is not the God of the New Testament. Marcion suggested that but the church responded with a forceful no.
A second objection is that natural theology introduces Greek philosophy into Christian doctrine. But this objection is irrelevant unless it is assumed that the Greek philosophy introduced into Christian theology is false doctrine. But that is denied by the majority tradition. A doctrine of God can be incomplete without being completely false. The doctrine of God in the Torah certainly is not complete by New Testament standards, yet it is not false.
A third objection is that Greek philosophy is erroneous and incoherent. This is a more plausible objection, and it is partly true. The point that needs to be stressed is that the fathers agree that not all philosophy is true. Augustine’s critical analysis of philosophy is Book VIII of City of God shows this clearly, just to name one example of many.
The fourth objection is that finding theistic proofs in early church fathers is anachronistic. Oliphint and Edgar make this claim in their book, Christian Apologetics Past and Present. But it does not stand up to historical analysis. As Haines points out, both Plato and Aristotle, as well as various Stoic philosophers such as Cicero had developed proofs for God’s existence prior to the birth of the Church.A few observations might be in order at this point. The historical overview is of mixed quality. The chapter on Greek philosophy and the church fathers is well-done, considering how much ground it has to cover in a short space. The chapter on Augustine is very good, but the chapter on Thomas is quite brief and omits many important issues. The chapter on reformed theology is heavy on quotations, which is good, but it lacks enough analysis and engagement with the secondary literature to be definitive. To be sure, I think the chapter accurately conveys the reformed position, but it needs more argumentation to convince the skeptical historian.
Overall, this book is focussed on reformed theology and the objections to natural theology from Cornelius Van Til. This is not a criticism, but simply a statement of the book’s limitations. If you are looking for an analysis of why Barth was so opposed to natural theology or what connections there might be between Barth and Van Til, you will need to look elsewhere.
Strengths
This book has been needed for some time. It has a number of valuable strengths that make it well worth reading.
1) First, it has a clear thesis that is both true and important, namely, that the vehement denunciation of natural theology in certain influential strands of twentieth-century Reformed theology is a radical departure from not only classic reformed theology, but also from the mainstream Christian tradition going all the way back to the apostles. It is an interesting historical question to wonder how the followers of Karl Barth and Cornelius Van Till, who were so different from each other in so many ways, both came to reject natural theology in the twentieth century even though reformed theology from 1500-1900 strongly affirmed it. This is a puzzling question, but this book does not really investigate it. Rather, this book has a more modest aim – to show that the rejection of natural theology goes against the mainstream Christian theological tradition, including the reformed tradition.
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