When you look up at the starlit sky and ponder the vastness and beauty of the heavens above and the diversity and unity of the earth below, your thoughts are moved to the God who created such marvelous things. If the universe is so unfathomably expansive and so indescribably beautiful, what is the nature of the God who created it? What is God like, the one who exceeds the greatness and grandeur of the world we inhabit? When we begin to ask these questions, we quickly acknowledge that we are finite creatures contemplating the infinite God. Though we are finite creatures, the one true and infinite God has revealed himself to us in the world he has made and even more clearly in the word he has caused to be written. World and word together (natural and supernatural theology) teach the glory and majesty of our God.

Simplicity

God has revealed himself to his creatures as the God who is simple. At first glance, to say that God is simple sounds counterintuitive. The great and glorious God is simple? The Creator of the complexity of the cosmos is simple? Yes, because by the simplicity of God we mean that there is no composition in God. God is not made up of parts, or any form of composition whatsoever. God’s simplicity is fundamental to a true understanding of him.

We gather divine simplicity from Scripture, in three principal places. The first is God’s self-revelation of his most sacred name, “I am that I am” (Exodus 3:14). God reveals his name as the one who is. He is his own existence. God is being itself subsisting. The one who is, who is his own being, indeed who is pure being itself subsisting, cannot possibly be a composite being. Therefore, we say he is simple. God is pure simple being itself.

World and word together teach the glory and majesty of our God.

The second is Jesus’ statement that “God is spirit” (John 4:24). Angels are spirits, but they are created spirits. They are composed of the possibility to be, and God making them to be. God is spirit, but not like the angels. He is not a being that has been brought into being. God is pure simple being itself.

The third is Paul’s doxology, “For from him and through him and to him are all things” (Romans 11:36). For all things to be from, through, and to God, there can be nothing before God. But all things composed have a composer. All things with parts have been put together. If all things are from, through, and to God, he must be pure simple being itself, without any composition or cause preceding his being. God cannot be reduced to more fundamental parts. Because his is not composed, he cannot be decomposed. God is pure simple being itself.

If one were to respond that God’s being is “necessarily composite,” or that God is “necessary complexity,” but without a composer, not only is this a self-contradicting proposal when investigated, but also it would follow that there may be necessarily composite beings other than the one we know as God. Divine simplicity protects the uniqueness and singularity of God because he, and he alone, is pure being itself. The one who is, pure and simple being, gives existence to all things. From the infinite fullness of his perfect simple being, God has given them that most fundamental of compositions, to be brought from possibility of being into actual being and made “according to their kind.”

Analogy

God’s simplicity reminds us, once more, of the vast and inviolable distinction between the Creator and his creatures. We must confess that our words and thoughts of God fall short of reaching the height or finding the depth of his majesty.

Can you find out the deep things of God? Can you find out the limit of the Almighty? (Job 11:7)

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high; I cannot attain it (Psalm 139:6).

How can we speak of such a sublime God? As we form our understanding and speech of God from both the world and the word, we must do so in a way that keeps the infinity of God and the finitude of creatures in place. We must think and speak of God in a way that is fitting with his infinite being as God, and to think and speak of creatures in a way that is fitting with their finite being as creatures. When we do this, we are using analogy or analogical speech. In this context, to use analogy, or analogical speech, is to attribute something to God according to his being, and the same thing to man (if at all fitting) according to his being.

So, for example, to speak analogically is to say, “God is good,” and, “John is good,” but to understand that because of divine simplicity God is the goodness by which he is good, whereas John is good only insofar as he reflects God’s goodness. The difference between goodness in God and John is not merely one of quantity (more or less), but of being itself. God’s goodness is his own simple being—essential, infinite, eternal, immutable, and perfect. John’s goodness is a quality, something extrinsic to himself in which he participates proportional to his being, capable of increase or decrease. To speak of goodness according to God’s being, and according to man’s being is to use analogy.

We must think and speak of God in a way that is fitting with his infinite being as God, and to think and speak of creatures in a way that is fitting with their finite being as creatures.

To give another example, consider the difference between fire, and being fired up, or between heat and being heated up. It is of the nature of fire to be hot. Other things can receive heat from fire, but when the source of heat is removed, they lose that heat. When I eat lunch, I sit under a pergola with a metal roof. The roof heats with the midday sun, creaking as its temperature rises, but when a cloud covers the sun the roof immediately begins to creak oppositely as it cools down. It is not of the nature of metal roofs to be hot, so it heats and cools insofar as it participates in the heat of the sun. We attribute heat to fire, or to the sun, in a way that fits the nature of the thing, and so also with metal roofs, or anything that is heated or fired. For one, it is the nature of the thing to be hot. For another, it only participates in heat, or becomes hot, as it is exposed to that which is heat.

This example may be illustrative, but it falls short because the sun, so scientists say, will eventually burn out, and fires can be extinguished. The sun can increase or decrease in a number of ways, as can fire, but God is all that he is infinitely, eternally, perfectly, and immutably, like a celestial flame that is an infinite fuel unto itself. Despite the shortcomings of the example, it illustrates the point that in all our thoughts of God, we must think analogically, that is, according to the being of the thing of which we are speaking. Though we speak of God in the language of men, we must do so in a way that acknowledges and preserves his being as God.

This applies to how we read the Bible. God condescends to speak to us in human language in the written word, and we must recognize this to be an accommodation to our capacities as creatures. We must read the Bible in a way that keeps God’s infinite being in mind. So, for example, the idea of “regret” or “repentance” is inconsistent with the perfection and immutability of God, and yet the Bible attributes these to God in various places. At the same time, the Bible denies that God regrets or repents.

God is not man, that he should lie, or a son of man, that he should change his mind (Numbers 23:19).

The Glory of Israel will not lie or have regret, for he is not a man, that he should have regret (1 Samuel 15:29).

What is the solution to these apparently opposite statements? It is analogy, which God himself teaches us when his word says, “God is not man.” This means that repentance must be attributed to God in some way that is fitting with his being as God. This we can do, by recognizing that the God who decreed all things immutably, whatsoever comes to pass, decreed to make Saul king, to permit his demise, and to remove and replace him with David. All of this was decreed by the unchanging eternal God, without remorse, regret, or a change of mind. However, from the human perspective it appears as a complete reversal of plan and action, which is precisely what repentance is.

Repentance is borrowed from human speech to communicate the providential reversal of events within God’s unfolding plan, and therefore when we attribute it to God we must remember that God is not a man. If we forget this, we will bring God down to the level of the human language he has used to communicate with us. The point to be grasped is that the world and word teach us of the greatness of God, and we must think and speak of him analogically, that is, in a way that is fitting with his being.

The One Who Is, the great I AM,

Exceeds the meager mind of man.

As creatures, all we say or know

Of God above comes from below,

Because the things that he has made

With his own likeness are inlaid.

Behind our thoughts, Beyond our reach,

God, in kindness, speaks our speech.

But he remains transcendent still.

He always has, and always will.

In the book, The Impossibility of God,[1] the editors present five categories of arguments that they claim disprove God’s existence. One such claim asserts that “a contradiction between two or more of God’s attributes” renders God impossible, as follows:

If God exists, then the attributes of God are consistent with one another.

Some attributes of God are not consistent with one another.

Therefore, God does not and cannot exist.[2]

For instance, Theodore M. Drange argues that God as both an “all-just” and “all-merciful” judge cannot exist. An all-just judge will always “treat every offender with exactly the severity” deserved, while an all-merciful judge “treats every offender with less severity” than deserved. And as both cannot be true, God cannot exist.[3] Interestingly, the Bible presents the same problem and Drange has rightly identified it. In this puzzle we see the fundamental problem facing people under God’s righteous condemnation. How can God, like a corrupt judge that ignores the law and leaves the guilty unpunished, remain righteous if He ignores the demands of His justice to have mercy on sinners?

Essential to a right approach to all difficult theological and philosophical issues, the answer to this vital question requires understanding the relationship of God to mankind from the beginning, including our proper responsibility to Him as our creator. Broadly, God created everything and everyone. From God we have life and every good thing, apart from Him we have nothing. To Him we owe all things, while He owes us nothing. And as God is infinitely excellent, we should treat Him as His dignity deserves. Thus, we read, “Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD is one! And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might” (Deut. 6:4-5 NASB). Christ repeated the mandate as the “greatest” commandment (Matt. 22:37, Mark 12:30, Luke 10:27). The Shema, then, states the minimum we owe God as our glorious creator, sustainer, and giver of every blessing.

Sin, however, fails to treat God as He deserves, either by ignoring what He has told us to do, or by doing what He has told us not to do. The penalty for sin includes physical and spiritual death. “The soul who sins will die” (Ez. 18:4). “For the wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23). “And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, ‘From any tree of the garden you may eat freely; but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you shall surely die’” (Gen. 2:16-17). When Adam and Eve sinned, they immediately died spiritually when their loving communion with God was shattered and He became their judge and adversary. They hid themselves in shame from the One they once loved and enjoyed. Physical death, that mortal enemy and curse, came later and has afflicted humanity ever since. “Through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin” (Rom. 5:12).

Moreover, neither God’s holy dignity and power, nor the nature and requirements of His justice have changed. Scripture presents God as a righteous judge, whose strict justice applies to everyone always, without respect to persons. “Whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles in one point, he has become guilty of all” (Jam. 2:10). “But the LORD abides forever; He has established His throne for judgment, And He will judge the world in righteousness; He will execute judgment for the peoples with equity” (Ps. 9:7-8). The standard for Adam and Eve applies to all people. And while Christ fulfilled the Mosaic Law, He also lived the perfect life of honor and obedience eternally owed to God. The moral duty of all people—as articulated in the Shema and repeated by Christ—never ends. People owe God perfect love and obedience forever.  

At the same time, Scripture teems with descriptions of God’s mercy to people of His choosing. For instance, “What shall we say then? There is no injustice with God, is there? May it never be! For He says to Moses, ‘I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion’” (Rom. 9:14-15). Again, “He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor rewarded us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, So great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him. As far as the east is from the west, So far has He removed our transgressions from us” (Ps. 103:10-12). Perfect justice and mercy even appear in the same verse: “The LORD, the LORD God, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in lovingkindness and truth; who keeps lovingkindness for thousands, who forgives iniquity, transgression and sin; yet He will by no means leave the guilty unpunished” (Ex. 34:6-7).

But how can this be? Granted, God is free to do as He wills, when He wills, to whom He wills, and no finite and fallen creature can tell Him otherwise. “‘Will the faultfinder contend with the Almighty? Let him who reproves God answer it.’ Then Job answered the LORD and said, ‘Behold, I am insignificant; what can I reply to Thee?’” (Job 40:2-4). Nonetheless, God cannot violate His flawless character, including His perfect justice. Should He pervert justice in a single case, He would cease to be perfect and thus cease to be God. Moreover, if He applied His strict justice without exception, He could be merciful to no one. After all, Adam and Eve were cast from paradise for one sin. Thus, the argument that an all-just and all-merciful God cannot exist would seem to have merit. It would also appear that Scripture has created an unsolvable dilemma, calling into question its own coherence and trustworthiness, and the existence of the God it proclaims. But does it?

In Christ’s encounter with the rich young ruler, He used the gentleman’s refusal to give up his wealth to illustrate how no one who loves anything more than Christ can enter into heaven. When Jesus declared, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Matt. 19:24), the disciples understood the indictment and asked, “then who can be saved?” Indeed, “If Thou, LORD, shouldst mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?” (Ps. 130:3). “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23). “There is none righteous, not even one” (Rom 3:10). “There is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and who never sins” (Eccl. 7:20). “Who can say, ‘I have cleansed my heart, I am pure from my sin?’” (Prov. 20:9). All stand guilty before God and worthy of condemnation. 

From the perspective of the accused, the situation was bleak. God will never relax the demands of His justice to grant mercy—the penalty for sin must be paid. Yet, Christ did not leave His disciples in despair, adding,iH “With men it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God” (Mark 10:27; cf. Matt. 19:26, Luke 18:27). God Himself would become one of us. God Himself would take our place and satisfy the perfect obedience required by His justice. And God Himself would pay the just penalty we deserve for our disobedience and contempt. “He had to be made like His brethren in all things, that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people” (Heb. 2:17).

Long before the earthly ministry of Christ as High Priest, the prophet Isaiah predicted this saving work:

For He grew up before Him like a tender shoot, And like a root out of parched ground; He has no stately form or majesty That we should look upon Him, Nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him. He was despised and forsaken of men, A man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; And like one from whom men hide their face, He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.  Surely our griefs He Himself bore, And our sorrows He carried; Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken, Smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, And by His scourging we are healed. All of us like sheep have gone astray, Each of us has turned to his own way; But the LORD has caused the iniquity of us all To fall on Him. (Isa. 53:2-6).

And further:

By oppression and judgment He was taken away; And as for His generation, who considered That He was cut off out of the land of the living, For the transgression of my people to whom the stroke was due? His grave was assigned with wicked men, Yet He was with a rich man in His death, Because He had done no violence, Nor was there any deceit in His mouth. But the LORD was pleased To crush Him, putting Him to grief; If He would render Himself as a guilt offering, He will see His offspring, He will prolong His days, And the good pleasure of the LORD will prosper in His hand. As a result of the anguish of His soul, He will see it and be satisfied; By His knowledge the Righteous One, My Servant, will justify the many, As He will bear their iniquities. (Isa. 53:8-11).

Moreover, the entire sacrificial system of the Jewish Tabernacle and Temple foreshadowed God’s solution to the dilemma of justice and mercy in saving sinners, including the provision of a priestly mediator between God and man (in particular, the high priest who entered the Holy of Holies once a year with the blood of the sacrifice to cover the sins of Israel); the practice of substitution (a lamb for a man); and sacrifice for sin (the death of a substitute in the place of the sinner). Thus, John the Baptist proclaimed at his first sight of Jesus, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). Christ’s sinless life met the requirements of God’s strict justice in loving God with all His “heart, soul, and might,” giving God the Father His due as the supremely excellent creator and sustainer of all. On the cross He suffered infinite wrath in our place, paying the penalty for our sin by His agony and death.

As a man, Christ was the perfect substitute for mankind. As God and man, He was the perfect mediator between God and man. And as God, His suffering and death paid an infinite penalty for the sin of mankind. This He did once for all time, never to be repeated.

By this will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.   And every priest stands daily ministering and offering time after time the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins; but He, having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, sat down at the right hand of God, waiting from that time onward until His enemies be made a footstool for His feet. For by one offering He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified (Heb. 10:10-14).

In His cry from the cross, “It is finished!” (John 19:30), Christ proclaimed the successful accomplishment of God’s plan of the ages, the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies concerning His redeeming work, and the reality of the shadows displayed in the Tabernacle and Temple ceremonies—the satisfaction of God’s justice for the salvation of souls. The Lamb of God came not to abolish the standard of God’s perfect justice. He came to satisfy its requirements on behalf of sinners:

Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish, but to fulfill. For truly I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or stroke shall pass away from the Law, until all is accomplished (Matt. 5:17-18).

How, then, do the benefits of Christ’s magnificent work become the possession of the sinner? By grace through faith in Christ, alone, we are saved from the condemnation of our sin.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world should be saved through Him (John 3:16-17).

But how does faith save sinners? Does the act of believing constitute a good work of such merit that it meets the demands of God’s justice? Does God accept faith in the place of the requirements of His law? If Christ, alone, satisfied the requirements for forgiveness of sin and the obtaining of eternal life, how does faith save?

We know that none are saved by their own good works, for “by the works of the Law no flesh will be justified in His sight” (Rom. 3:20), and “knowing that a man is not justified by the works of the Law but through faith in Christ Jesus…since by the works of the Law shall no flesh be justified” (Gal. 2:16). Our good works cannot earn God’s favor. Salvation is by grace. Moreover, faith, of itself, cannot satisfy the standard of God’s strict justice—Christ, alone, met the requirement of sinless obedience and payment of the penalty for our disobedience. How, then, does faith save us if Christ met the standard of God’s righteous justice and we remain sinful and guilty?

Saving faith constitutes the open, empty, and unworthy hands that accept the free gift of Christ’s satisfaction of God’s justice on our behalf. Faith denies any merit of our own to earn acceptance by God as it receives the merit earned for us by Christ. As in marriage the bride and groom are legally united as one, so saving faith unites the believer and Christ in a bond of love. When the bride says, “I do,” all that belongs to him becomes hers. And when the bridegroom says, “I do,” all that belongs to her becomes his. (Granted, most of his junk gets thrown out in the process, but I digress.) In the same way, faith unites to Christ such that the merits of what He accomplished for salvation become the possession of the believer. In a “great exchange,” our sins were credited to Christ when He suffered and died on the cross, so His righteousness in meeting the demands of God’s justice on our behalf is credited to us when we embrace Him by faith. By faith the believer is “covered in the righteousness of Christ.” “He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him” (2Cor. 5:21). “For if by the transgression of the one, death reigned through the one, much more those who receive the abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ” (Rom. 5:17). “For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes” (Rom. 10:4). In this way, salvation by faith upholds God’s righteous justice. “Do we then nullify the Law through faith? May it never be! On the contrary, we establish the Law” (Rom 3:31). The obligation to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, and might remains unchanged. Christ, in perfect righteousness, performed it in our place. Again, Isaiah predicted this:

I will rejoice greatly in the LORD, My soul will exult in my God; For He has clothed me with garments of salvation, He has wrapped me with a robe of righteousness, As a bridegroom decks himself with a garland, And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels (Isa. 61:10).

Sadly, though the “Light of the World” satisfied God’s justice and offers forgiveness of sin and eternal life to all who would receive Him as Savior, many reject the precious gift:

There was the true light which, coming into the world, enlightens every man. He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, and the world did not know Him. He came to His own, and those who were His own did not receive Him. But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name, who were born not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God (John 1:9-13).

Indeed, “the gate is small, and the way is narrow that leads to life, and few are those who find it” (Matt. 7:14). Why?

And this is the judgment, that the light is come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the light; for their deeds were evil. For everyone who does evil hates the light, and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed (John 3:19-20).

For the religious deniers of Christ as God and Savior, the principle that our best behavior or merits cannot meet God’s standard of justice or earn His favor, pose an obstacle to faith in Christ. For atheists and the irreligious, the duty to bow to God’s sovereign authority asks too much, or is “contrary to human dignity,” as Kant would have it. In the end, the battle rages between two wills: God’s will in and through Christ, or our own.  

In drawing this article to a close, we have in the justice as contrary to mercy objection to the God of the Bible an example of what besets the best of atheistic arguments. From a human perspective, God’s justice and mercy present an unsolvable problem. Yet God, who created and sustains all things, who transcends what He has made, who determines the rules of reality and defines the nature of justice and mercy, has solved the problem according to His wisdom. And even if God clearly meets the demands of our limited grasp of logic, God’s solution remains foolish and unacceptable to many.

For the word of the cross is to those who are perishing foolishness, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, ‘I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, And the cleverness of the clever I will set aside.’ Where is the wise man? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom did not come to know God, God was well-pleased through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe (1 Cor. 1:18-21).

And while God’s ways need not be understood in order to be true, the “unsolvable,” from our narrow perspective, does not constitute a problem for God. He remains just in His mercy on sinners through faith in Christ, who satisfied for us the claims of His justice. And regardless, God is sovereign, answers to no one, and remains under no obligation to have mercy on a single soul, especially those who scorn the person and work of Christ—who suffered infinite wrath to purchase endless and immeasurable happiness for the unworthy.Neither must God have mercy on those who deny the clear display of His genius, power, and goodness in creation and every blessing, or who reject His law written on their heart. In the end, the penalty for sin will be paid, either vicariously in Christ or personally without Christ, while His free offer of mercy remains for all who would seek Him. “For if the word spoken through angels proved unalterable, and every transgression and disobedience received a just recompense, how shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?” (Heb. 2:2-3).

Adapted from Craig Biehl, Too Small: Why Atheists Can’t Know What They Say They Know. Forthcoming, Tulip Publishing, 2023.

Scriptures are taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE®, copyright© 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

[1] Michael Martin and Ricki Monnier, eds., The Impossibility of God (Amherst: Prometheus Books, 2003).

[2] Introduction to “Multiple Attributes Disproofs of the Existence of God,” in The Impossibility of God, 181.

[3] Theodore M. Drange, “Incompatible-Properties Arguments: A Survey,” The Impossibility of God, 195-6.

Imagine the following statement being made from the pulpit of your church by a guest speaker: “Our mission is to make this nation a Christian nation.”

What is your reflexive reaction in this hypothetical situation?

Perhaps you have noticed the lack of context in this thought experiment. Regardless of what context you may have added in your imagination, now consider if your visceral response is any different if our fictional guest speaker is:

A political officeholder sharing his agenda for the upcoming legislative session.

A Chinese missionary explaining his exploits in Asia.

An urban evangelist summarizing his recent ministry in your city.

Each of these scenarios that what the phrase “Christian nation” denotes can vary widely from what it connotes.

If this thought experiment teaches us anything, it is that context matters. Such is always the case in matters of theology in general, and this is nowhere truer than in matters of political theology, and specifically, the conversation on Christian nationalism.

In terms of the latter, Andy Naselli has attempted a helpful taxonomy of the various species of this movement—making clear the great deal of overlap between various camps of principled, biblical conservatism regardless of whether one willingly wears the Christian nationalist moniker. Naselli has done commendable work, with all the necessary nuance and carefulness in his definitions. Yet in the emotion-laden discourses that prevail in the negative world, Christians do not always have the opportunity to offer such clarifications. Sometimes, we are best off attempting to steer the connotations in a positive direction.

But, returning to our hypothetical scenario, we can easily imagine how the connotations of terms like Christian nation or Christian nationalism can vary widely, even among ostensibly conservative evangelicals. In political discussions, such shibboleths often arouse suspicion, thanks to progressive rhetoric linking them with colonialism, racism, or other aberrations. But in the context of global missions, to long for the flourishing of Christian nations is simply to echo the refrain of Scripture’s great missionary texts:

“Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you judge the peoples with equity and guide the nations upon earth.” (Psalm 67:4)

“All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord and shall glorify your name.” (Psalm 86:9)

“And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 28:18-20)

“After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands[.]” (Revelation 7:9)

My simple contention is that as the debate over Christian nation boils, we must keep these texts close at hand for the sake of our brothers and sisters who have yet to work out their theology of political engagement. The missionary spirit of the Christian faith, expressed in these and similar passages, contains all the resources we need to awaken (some might say “radicalize”) our fellow evangelicals to the monumental task of subjecting our civil life to the lordship of Christ. If our fellow Christians who are indifferent to the civil sphere, or who have imbibed the secularist fantasy, would but consider what Scripture says about discipling the nations, they’d soon be our allies in discipling ours.

By way of illustration: recently, I was privileged to spend nearly two hours with a pastor from the Indian state of Manipur—now a war zone. My pastor friend described in detail the conflict between the Hindu-majority valley tribes and the predominantly Christian hill tribes, along with the persecution and internal displacement happening to Christians as a result.

“The conflict between the two tribes flared up on [May 3rd], 2023,” he explained, “when the students from Kuki-Zo community namely All Tribal Student Union of Manipur called for a Tribal Solidarity march to oppose the High Court’s recommendation for inclusion of Meiteis in Schedule Tribe list. The Kuki-Zo were against this inclusion because it would help the Meiteis to monopolize all privileges and resources such as jobs, lands, and property which would be a threat to their very existence.”

He continued, “Thousands of tribal students participated in this rally which was held peacefully. In retaliation, the valley-based Meitei organizations organized counter-blockades, beat a pastor to death, and started burning houses belonging to Kuki-Zo community. From then on, the situation spread like wildfire with the burning of over 300 churches, hundreds of villages, 150 deaths, 60,000 displaced with ongoing kidnappings and arsons.”

At the heart of these tensions lies a complex interplay of ethnicity, religion, and political maneuvering—most notably a broader Indian political context in which radical Hindu groups, leveraging the Meitei tribe, have expanded their influence. Despite these barriers, the pastor to whom I spoke, together with his church, is ministering to displaced Christians who have lost everything and preaching Christ to those they encounter from the valley tribe. Sacrificially, they have devoted themselves to frontlines ministry including orphanage work, education, evangelism, and more.

Hearing such accounts overwhelms comfortable suburban ears such as mine. Yet impressed as I was with the faith and endurance of this community of believers, what struck me most was the pastor’s analysis of the situation in general and its potential answer: “The only solution to end this ongoing conflict is to grant Total Separate Administration to the Hill Tribals who are under the governance of Valley State government.” This amounts to the division of Manipur into two states: one with a Christian government, the other under Hindu rule.

At this point, I questioned my friend. Surely this is not possible, I reasoned, given the Hindu character of India as a whole. But he then proceeded to list several Indian states in which Christianity, in his characterization, is a “dominant cultural force”: Kerala (18.4% Christian), Nagaland (80%), Mizoram (80%), and Meghalaya (70%).

He shared as well, of course, the way in which the current Hindu regime would resist the addition of a new Christian state in India. “India is still a Hindu majority country,” he explained. “There has been propaganda to make India an entirely Hindu nation, with many pro-Hindu parties and government calling for everyone to return to Hinduism.”

Still, from his standpoint, the notion of organizing the hill tribes into a Christian state was at least plausible—especially since the hill and valley tribes currently cannot coexist peacefully. For him, this “Christianized” hill tribe government would simply entail freedom from persecution, freedom to consume foods such as beef, and freedom from anti-conversion laws which impede Christians throughout the country—benefits, he noted, which other predominantly-Christian parts of India do enjoy.

Throughout the entire conversation, I was struck by the straightforwardness of this pastor’s reasoning. Here was a Christian pastor—hailing from a corner of the world marked by idolatry, spiritual warfare, violent persecution, high concentrations of unreached people groups, and Hindu nationalism—unironically advocating for Christian self-governance. Yes, he was completely aware of the negatives of a nominal Christianity. (He shared that calling nominal hill tribes Christians to true discipleship forms a major part of his ministry.) Still, he saw no conflict between his evangelistic aims and the parallel goal of aligning their civil polity with the aim of Christ’s kingdom. And why should he?

Put another way: it apparently did not occur to this faithful minister that statements such as those found in John 18:36 (“My kingdom is not of this world”) and 1 Peter 2:13 (“Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution”) preclude the formation of Christian states or nations. This shepherd was willing to “dirty” his hands with political concerns because of his overriding concern for the peace of his people and the welfare of his sheep. His desire for the conversion of the nominal Christians of his tribe and the ultimate evangelization of the enemy tribe cannot be fulfilled if his own tribesmen are all dead. Christian self-rule in Manipur, thus it seems, is the logical implication of missionary zeal and love for one’s neighbor.

Reasoning according to a biblical worldview demands we employ just weights and measures (Leviticus 19:35-36). This means employing the same standards evenhandedly upon others’ ideas as we would use in measuring our own. Thus, when we hear talk of Christian nations or even Christian nationalism, ought we not afford such persons the benefit of the doubt—given that their aims for our body politic are those same aims we pursue in missions for all nations? And if this is the case, could we not win more and more of our brothers to the cause of godly Christian political engagement by emphasizing these biblical realities—that Christ has received authority over all the nations (Revelation 11:15), and that we are to labor in the public square in light of that authority ourselves?

Brothers: let us recognize that if we truly believe in global missions, then we necessarily confess the imperative of striving for Christian nations—and inversely, if we believe in shaping Christian nations, then we must joyfully commit ourselves to doing so not only at home but also abroad. And in this way, may the Lord establish the work of our hands.