Category Archives: Book Reviews

Review: Pilkington of Uganda

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Pilkington of Uganda (1897) is the biography of George Lawrence Pilkington. Pilkington was a pioneer missionary with the Church Missionary Society (Anglican Communion) who committed his life to serve the people of Uganda. The biography is largely formed of Pilkington’s private letters, which are filled with colorful details about his life and work. The author himself served as missionary in west Africa, but returned home due to illness and became a lifelong supporter of Anglican missions. For a time period when missionary biographies were largely simplistic and fawning, Harford has put together an accurate and compelling portrait of a missionary pioneer who died young, and yet is well remembered for his positive impact on Uganda.

George Lawrence Pilkington is best known as a lead transator of the Bible into Luganda, but other missionaries remembered him as being a supporter of Africa’s evangelization and a proponent of Uganda’s culture in many respects other than language. Pilkington was a Cambridge graduate with broad interests in culture, sports (running, cycling, football), and science.

He seems to have had naturally a scientific bent of mind, rather than any particular taste for languages, and he was always anxious to learn about everything.

C. F. Harford, Pilkington of Uganda

According to the author, the choice of title is meant to reflect The Story of MacKay of Uganda (1891) by Alexina (MacKay) Harrison. The epithet “of Uganda” is also meant to reflect the consecration that both MacKay and Pilkington felt.

Anything “Ugandese” (if I may venture to coin a barbaric word) attracted and interested him, and I can remember how inexhaustible was his patience in answering all importunate questions on his favourite subject. He was equally at home whether he discussed the phonetics of the native languages, or detailed the varieties of plantains to be found in Central Africa.

Letter from Mr. Hyslop, a friend of Pilkington at Cambridge; qtd. in Harford, Pilkington of Uganda

Language Learning: Nature or Nurture?

Pilkington was widely regarded as having uncommon facility in learning languages. But he believed that language learning was not a matter of inborn talent or having the “knack”. Pilkington attributed his success to stick-to-it-iveness and methodological plodding:

He frequently stated that, in his opinion, it was not so much an essential to be possessed of rare abilities, as it was to follow definite methods of study . . .

Harford, Pilkington of Uganda, ch. 13

He encouraged all incoming missionaries to study phonetics—specifically, a book called Sweet’s Primer of Phonetics—before applying themselves to an unfamiliar language. He believed that background about language in general, rather than a language in particular, would help missionaries on the field.

Translation and Language Work

Throughout his letters, George Pilkington describes an apparently bottomless need for Christian literature in Swahili—the regional language of east Africa—and Luganda—the mother tongue spoken by the most people in Uganda.

Continuing the work of his predecessors, Pilkington carried on the translation of the Bible into Luganda to its completion. While he spearheaded the work, he had two native translators that worked tirelessly to give Pilkington a perfect grasp of Luganda usage: Sembero MacKay and Henry Duta. Henry in particular is mentioned as having worked daily with Pilkington on checking translations.

He writes that, not being perfectly equipped himself, several members of his team providentially had deeply honed skills they could use for Bible translation: they knew Swahili, were accustomed to translating from Swahili to Luganda, and also had discussed Christianity in Luganda for years in a discipleship setting. Monolingual speakers of English can hardly imagine what this means for an agglutinative, tonal language—let alone one that has not developed a writing system.

Pilkington’s team-oriented method sounds somewhat closer to modern translation methods. Previous translators focused on a single translator, usually a European missionary. In time, more stock was given to mother tongue translators. Today, exegetical consultants also check new translations for theological comprehension and doctrinal clarity.

Pilkington finished his translation of the Old Testament while on furlough. He was able to do this by first taking copious notes with Henry Duta, the lead mother tongue translator. Then he wrote the translation in Ireland with help from his sister and other helpers.

At the time of his death, Pilkington harbored hopes of writing a Luganda grammar and dictionary in the service of future work; and the plan for both was apparently already thought out and partly drafted. He also had copious notes on the vocabularies of languages closely related to Luganda. While the dictionary was never realized, a friend of Pilkington later arranged his notes into a book on Luganda grammar.

Revival: Personal and National

In the 1890s, many Anglicans came under the conviction of the need for the Holy Spirit. In particular, they believed in a “second blessing” after salvation, in the filling of the Holy Spirit (John 14:17). Late in 1893, after an extended time of discouragement, Pilkington experienced the filling of the Holy Spirit during a retreat at the island of Komé. The experience is recounted in Chapter 12, “A Revival.”

On December 7th, 1893, Pilkington returned to Mengo from Komé, and everyone noticed the wonderful change in Him. His very face told of the reality of the change.

Harford, Pilkington of Uganda, ch. 12

The title of the chapter has a double meaning, since Uganda also experienced a national revival. Near the end of 1894, Pilkington wrote in a letter:

To sum up, the year’s work has been by far the most encouraging that I have been privileged to witness, and I venture to think that the Church here is only just beginning its course of testimony and victory. I anticipate that next year will see an enormous accession.

George Pilkington, Letter dated December 12th, 1894, qtd. in Harford, Pilkington of Uganda, ch. 12

I have not made space to recount all of the missionary successes in Uganda or the social forces at work. Suffice it to say, by the end of the book’s narrative, there are fifty baptisms a week in Uganda. Pilkington writes that baptisms began to decrease because, after many years of great expansion in Christian work, the country had reached a saturation point.

The increase in the number of adherents is not going on as it was two or three years ago. Why is that? . . . The greater part of the country has now been evangelised . . . Then again, a considerable number . . . don’t think it worth while to persevere.

George Pilkington, Letter dated May 19th, 1897, qtd. in Harford, Pilkington of Uganda, ch. 15

“Becoming All Things”

In his letters, Pilkington reveals a great deal about his missionary strategy and his approach to culture. An important aspect of missionary strategy, for Pilkington, was to live as natives do to the degree attainable. An important aspect of “becoming all things to all people” was simplification in travel. In subsaharan Africa, where roads were comparatively difficult, it was then stereotypical for Europeans to travel with large entourages of porters. But the easiest road from Uganda to the coast for Europeans, was not an easy road for Ugandans. Pilkington writes that he more than once came across travellers dead or near death on the road; there was a long section without water. It reduced the danger for locals if foreigners would pack more lightly, and travel more hardy.

Pilkington returned from furlough late in 1896. He left two months after the rest of his missionary party. In the interest of improving the road to Uganda—something much discussed by his predecessors Alexander MacKay and James Hannington—Pilkington decided to cycle much of the way from Mombasa to Kampala. This story is recounted in Chapter 17, “By Bicycle to Uganda.” Though he was in peril of wild beasts for much of the journey, he arrived in Kampala only 74 days after London, five weeks before his colleagues, who had left a full two months before him. He thus cut the usual travel time in half. Cycling was rather a new trend in the 1890s, and Pilkington had to deal with many vexing issues about improving his “kit” for overland travel where there were no roads—and it showed there was ample room for improvement in getting missionaries to and from the field.

Pilkington wrote in his letters about seeking self-sufficiency on the mission field.

My beans are growing splendidly. I have two little broods of fowls (four and six respectively), one hen sitting, and another laying; six goats, nine sheep, a ram, three lambs, a bull, fourteen cows and eight calves. . . . The produce of my flocks and herds supports me. Leopards are my bugbears. The rennet powder works beautifully; milk in various forms is my chief food; the other men despise skim milk—I think it the thing for this country.

George Pilkington, Letter dated September 3rd, 1892, qtd. in Harford, Pilkington of Uganda, ch. 10

Pilkington also wrote often of the evangelization of Africa. He believed that, given the time and resources, Uganda would send missionaries to many other countries in subsaharan Africa. He also keenly followed advances in missionary work in the Middle East, and longed to see Muslims turn to Christ both in Africa and Asia. Chapter 15 of Harford’s book, “The Church in Uganda: A Retrospect”, shows to what degree Pilkington’s dream was realized.

Pilkington was at the cutting edge in Bible translation and missiology, and there is more detailed missiology in his letters than I can fit in the space of this already-long book review.

The evangelisation of Africa must be carried out by Africans, and it will be accomplished when we have a hundred native evangelists to every European missionary.

George Pilkington, Address at the Conference of the Student Volunteer Missionary Union at Liverpool, in 1896; qtd. in Harford, Pilkington of Uganda, ch. 13

Conflict and Death

Not long after he finished his furlough and returned to Uganda, Pilkington was killed defending Uganda from a mutiny. In the 1890s, the British kept a number of Sudanese soldiers as security forces for Uganda. These mutinied twice while Pilkington was there, the second proving very dangerous for all the Europeans around Uganda. Pilkington acted as a translator for British officers trying to recover peace.

The sectarian conflict in Uganda had a unique flavor: Catholics were called Wa Ferenza (French) and Protestants were called Wa Ingreza (English). Uganda also had many Muslims, some of whom in this case turned to join the Sudanese mutiny.

Pilkington saw several Ugandans killed because of the conflict, which was really between Sudanese and the British. Pilkington told Henry Duta that he felt it was not right that so little British blood had been spilt; it proved prophetic, as he was shot while seeking to put down the mutiny. He was buried in Mengo, in a place called “Church Hill”. He was given military honors, and his colleagues Baskerville, and Henry Duta, the translator, conducted his funeral.

Conclusion

This book is filled with food for thought for missionaries and those interested in the mission field. Missionary biographies from this time period usually give plenty of air time to consecration and sacrifice, but do not talk enough about what doing missions was actually like; Harford’s book is thoroughly practical and grounded by letters by and about its subject. For this reason, this book is a definite standout among the missionary biographies I have read recently, and I recommend it heartily.

Review: Flight of Faith

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Flight of Faith: My Miracle on the Hudson (2010) is Frederick Berretta’s inspirational account of US Airways flight 1549, which crashed in the Hudson River on January 15, 2009. The Airbus 320 was scheduled to fly from Laguardia to Charlotte. The airplane struck a flock of Canada geese shortly after takeoff and lost power in both engines. The pilot contacted Laguardia and discussed possible landing scenarios, but determined that he would have to ditch the plane in the river. Everyone on board survived. An official in the National Transportation Safety Board described it as “the most successful ditching in aviation history”.

This book is Frederick Berretta’s personal account of the ditching of the plane, interspersed with his personal spiritual life leading up to and following that moment. Berretta is a businessman that was raised Catholic. Through the course of the book, he describes navigating various low points in his life, including the divorce of his parents, disillusionment after college, loss of a child, and the financial downturn of 2009.

The author attributes the successful ditching of flight 1549 to two things: God’s mercy and the prayers of those aboard. As a Catholic, Berretta describes making “informal prayers” in the last moments before the water landing, as opposed to the formal devotional prayers to which he is accustomed. He reflects throughout the book on changes to his own prayer life through the course of his life.

Berretta is himself an amateur pilot. This gives him some unique perspective as he has some understanding of the crew’s roles and responsibilities in such incidents. He has also had other near misses while flying.

Bird strikes that cause air accidents are rare. Double engine failure due to bird strike is practically undocumented. This was quite a freak accident.

The captain and first officer had a long mental checklist to go through before the water landing. They had to ensure that they did not crash into the Washington Bridge, or any of the many boats on the Hudson River that day. They also had to prevent the plane from stalling, while maintaining an optimized speed and angle of approach to the water. Once landed, passengers and crew had to stave off panic so that they could board life rafts and climb aboard ferries that had come to their rescue.

By grace, the fuselage to the plane remained in tact so that the plane stayed afloat in the icy Hudson River long enough for passengers and crew to evacuate. Berretta writes that available information suggests that the airplane struck the water with three times the force expected to destroy the fuselage of the plane. If it had ruptured, the plane would have filled with water and sank, leaving everyone aboard in near-freezing water.

It is extraordinary that everyone aboard survived. Water ditching has roughly a 50% survival rate across known occurrences. There is only one other known case of a commercial airliner performing a water ditch and everyone surviving, in Leningrad in 1963. This book is a simple, unassuming testimony to God’s grace in answer to prayer, and such testimonies are always welcome.

Review: The World As I Remember It

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The World As I Remember It: Through the Eyes of a Ragamuffin (2004) is a collection of 25 articles that Rich Mullins wrote for Release magazine in the 1990s. Rich Mullins was a Christian singer and songwriter who was championed by Amy Grant from around 1981, when he gained the attention of record labels. Despite commercial success, Rich exemplified Christian simplicity and spurned the spotlight through much of his career. In 1995, even as his songs were being played on the radio, he relocated to a Navajo hogan to teach music. He also cut back his concert schedule and arranged performances to give others more time leading songs. His life was cut short by a car accident at the age of 41, but he had already a productive and influential life.

Because The World As I Remember It is from magazine archives, you can read most of the material from this book online in a website that looks like I built it in high school computer class.

A close friend of mine used to say that Rich Mullins was a better preacher than a songwriter; and he is a widely esteemed songwriter. The Rich Mullins in these articles is the same Rich Mullins that we meet in his music: he is effusive, self-deprecating, and simple in the best way possible.

If I needed to describe Rich in a single word, it would be “incarnational”. He treats all of theology and wisdom as relevant because of its fruit. Rich’s pragmatic attitude towards the Bible is displayed in the 1992 article “Making/Being Made”.

There are two memorable articles about becoming a child: “For Children Only” and “Play It Again”.

I understand more and more why people say that Rich lived on another plane. There is nothing “occasional” in these articles. He doesn’t write about what’s happening in the news or about cultural rifts that preoccupy many Christian writers. Nor is he drawn aside into tired theological debates. This is why decades later, Rich’s music and writings are persistently refreshing.

Review: Robert Louis Stevenson (1927)

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Author: G. K. Chesterton was a devoutly Catholic journalist, poet and novelist of the early 20th century. His most apt nickname is “The Prince of Paradox.”

Overview:

Before getting into this book, it’s unfortunately necessary to clarify which book I’m talking about. Robert Louis Stevenson (1927) is Chesterton’s second book by that exact title, the first having been co-authored in 1902 with W. Robertson Nicoll. The first is only 40 pages and includes a brief message about Stevenson’s triumphant suffering; this book, however, weighs in at 259 pages, was authored solo by Chesterton, and is largely a defense of Stevenson as a writer.

Seeing Stevenson’s Life in His Novels

Stevenson died in Samoa in 1894, and his memory was still quite fresh in 1902 when the first little book was written with Nicoll. By 1927, with Robert Louis Stevenson decades cold in his Polynesian grave, the novelist had attracted a host of critics, and Chesterton took it upon himself to defend Stevenson, though they were not personally acquainted (Chesterton was only 20 years old when Stevenson died, but he had several mutual acquaintances with Stevenson.)

This book makes no pretence of being even an outline of the life of Stevenson. In his particular case I deliberately omit such an outline, because I find that it has cut across and confused the very sharp and lucid outline of his art. . . . In short, I propose to review his books with illustrations from his life; rather than to write his life with illustrations from his books.

G. K. Chesterton, Robert Louis Stevenson, 1929 ed., ch. IX, p. 16,27

The above paragraph is typical of Chestertonian biographies. In his “biographies” he usually deals with people as thinkers more than dealing with the events of their lives. When he covers specific events in the lives of Stevenson (or, for example, Robert Browning), they are usually the moments of decision. Chesterton only gives an outline of events, instead dealing at length with internal dillemmas and pressing issues of character.

After all, Chesterton had already dealt with what he saw of Stevenson’s suffering and loneliness in his earlier essay, already mentioned.

Stevenson’s Youth

In Stevenson’s twenties, he had left home for France, fallen into dissipation and left the religion of his youth. For the time period, it sounds rather typical of agnostic, pleasure-seeking life on the European continent. His irreligion was tempered by time, which is legible enough in his stories. Chesterton does not defend Stevenson’s godlessness, of course, but frames it as not totally foreign to a Edinburgh upbringing. In addition, Chesterton was no friend to Calvinism.

The normal, or at least the ideal, development of a man’s destiny is from the coloured chamber of childhood to an even more romantic garden of the faith and tryst of youth. It is from the child’s garden of verses to the man’s garden of vows. I do not think that time of transition went right with Stevenson . . . The east wind of Edinburgh Puritanism blew him out of his course, so that he returned only long after to anything like a secure loyalty and a right human relation. In a word, I think that in his childhood he had the best luck in the world, and in his youth the worst luck in the world; and that this explains most of the story.

G. K. Chesterton, Robert Louis Stevenson, 1929 ed., ch. III, p. 78

Defending Stevenson Against His Critics

Stevenson’s critics then considered him as a mere writer of “penny dreadfuls”, a term then used for adventurous or romantic short stories that were cheaply produced and appealed to readers’ basest impulses. Chapter VI, “The Style of Stevenson”, defends Stevenson against the criticism of being melodramatic in his language. “For of all things he hated dilution; and loved to take language neat, like a liqueur.” (ch. I, p.13) In Chapter IX, “The Philosophy of Gesture”, Chesterton defends Stevenson against a introspective trend in literature, driven partly with modern trends in psychology.

. . . It is nonsense to think only of thoughts and not of words or deeds, since words are only spoken thoughts and deeds are only acted words.

G. K. Chesterton, Robert Louis Stevenson, 1929 ed., ch. IX, p. 211

Chesterton saw Stevenson as quite novel in the creation of the genre of the “boys’ story” as opposed to various genres of “novels”. With such a popular appeal, Stevenson may be low-hanging fruit for criticism. But time has probably been kinder to Chesterton than to Stevenson’s detractors. Stevenson is held in general acclaim, and his works have received a total of more than 2,000 translations, more than Ernest Hemingway, J. R. R. Tolkien, or Plato.

Review: The Life of Joseph Parker

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The Life of Joseph Parker (1902) is the most complete biography of Joseph Parker available. It includes the story of his upbringing in Northumberland, his call to ministry, his training, and his three pastorates, the third of which came to be the most significant in London for a number of years.

I have written my own small portrait of Joseph Parker, which appears in the 2022 reprint edition of his People’s Bible series; so, I refrain here from offering a lengthy summary of Adamson’s work. But I have put down here some of the more unique aspects of his book (being as it is, one of several biographies of one of the greatest Victorian preachers).

Joseph Parker’s childhood and training are described largely from letters from people who knew him well. These are well worth reading. Parker had a singular personality. He was an inquisitive learner and did well in school, and in his early teens tutored other young scholars in Greek and mathematics. Thinking he was not suitable for a trade, his parents apprenticed him to become a stonemason, like his father, but after a short time he rejected this career path and returned to his education.

As he became famous, Parker befriended quite a number of other celebrity pastors, including Henry Ward Beecher, Charles Spurgeon, Thomas Binney, and R. W. Dale. These friendships are only mentioned by Adamson, but they receive much more attention in two books, Spurgeon and His Friendships (A. Cunningham-Burley) and Dr. Parker and His Friends (G. H. Pike).

On Parker’s early preaching, you can read more in his own works, in the introduction to Tyne Folk and in his A Preacher’s Life.

Parker’s Dream for Dissenters

The climax of Adamson’s book comes in the last few chapters. These chapters describe events that must have been quite fresh to the author and I did not see described elsewhere.

Parker had a dream of independent churches (i.e. Congregationalists) collaborating and sharing training and facilities. He expressed this view at a 1901 conference at which Alexander MacLaren (President of the Baptist Union) was presiding. His speech on the topic was looked upon critically by listeners, but oddly enough, the organizational scheme which he proposed, rejected outright in his lifetime, was later realized in some capacity as the Congregational Union of England and Wales was largely absorbed into the United Reformed Church in 1972. Regardless of the complications, his ecumenical vision for reaching and teaching his nation was ahead of his time.

Review: Ferishtah’s Fancies

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Author: Robert Browning (1812–1889) was an eminent English poet of the Victorian era, known for his ambitious and dramatic lyrics and monologues. He had an evangelical upbringing, and had a home-grown love for learning. His wife of many years, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, was an equally revered poet—perhaps even better—though her career was much shorter due to a chronic illness.

Overview

Ferishtah’s Fancies (1884) is a small collection of twelve poems set in Persia. It was originally intended as a single poem in twelve parts, but their cohesion is weak enough that it seems fitting to speak of it rather as twelve poems. The frame of the story is a series of dialogues between Ferishtah (Persian: angel) and others, with Ferishtah clearly speaking for Browning himself.

Orientalism

This collection’s main draw for readers aside from the author is its Persian setting. The book was published at the height of Orientalism in Europe. The book is also full of loosely oriental places, animals, and names. These come across as half-baked to anyone versed in the Near East; I am not sure, for instance, that camels are beasts of burden in Khorasan. I am also not sure what is accomplished by alluding to Fomalhaut and Mushtari (star names).

In my opinion, the many oriental allusions serve merely to distract from the book’s poetic themes. Ferishtah’s Fancies also has a few references to Job, which Browning evidently considered to have taken place in Persia.

In Persian phrase, ‘Does Job fear God for nought?’
Job’s creatureship is not abjured, thou fool!

Robert Browning, “Two Camels”, in Ferishtah’s Fancies

The biblical phrase comes from Satan’s dialogue with God (Job 1:9). But setting Job’s Book in Persia is not even one of the widely proposed locations for the book, which are Aram and Edom. A few other fringe ideas exist, the most popular of which is Arabia (sometimes Dhofar).

Parabolic Teaching

Browning uses a number of images or “parables”, which is probably the justification for the title, Ferishtah’s “fancies”. They are certainly fanciful, and lack grounding—perhaps the author thought such hypothetical absurdities to be reminiscent of the Near East. “Two Camels”, for instance, revolves around one camel who fasts in austerity and the author who feasts that he may complete his duty. “A Pillar at Sebzevar” turns on a parable of a child seeing an orange and wishing it to be the sun, as a parable for our ingratitude to God.

“Shah Abbas”, perhaps my favorite in the collection, is a dialogue about trust and implausibilities.

Hast heard of Ishak son of Absal? Ay,
The very same we heard of, ten years since,
Slain in the wars: he comes back safe and sound, —
Though twenty soldiers saw him die at Yezdt, —

Robert Browning, “Shah Abbas”

This poem has many such fictions within fictions, and they serve to move the dialogue forward. The dialogue is also less one-sided as the author offers point and counterpoint. Many of Browning’s other poems take the form of extended monologues.

Problem of Evil

It is no surprise that Browning alludes frequently to Job; he is ever preoccupied with the problem of the compatibility of evil and God’s goodness. But Browning treats that theme much better in other poems (e.g. Christmas-Eve and Christmas Day). In a few passages in Ferishtah’s Fancies, love is treated as antithetical to knowledge. This felt to me like Ferishtah/Browning was sweeping his difficulties under the rug. Browning at his best goes much deeper than what we see here.

Conclusion

Ferishtah’s Fancies is a minor book among Browning’s many works, and comes near the end of his canon of works. Despite his early fame, Browning’s popularity fluctuated greatly throughout his lifetime. This little collection sold decently due to European fixation on the “Orient”, but in my opinion, it does not hold a candle to his other books (or those of his wife, Elizabeth).

Review: To God Be the Glory (Part 1)

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To God Be the Glory: Miracles from a Missionary’s Life (1983) is a collection of inspirational stories by Doris Hokett, missionary to Ghana and Nigeria since 1967. At the time the book was written, most of the Hoketts’ ministry took place in northern Ghana, in a West African context that was a mix of Christians, Muslims, and idol-worshipping pagans.

This little staple-bound book and its sequel (simply called To God Be the Glory, Volume 2) are made up of very short chapters of one or two pages each. They read like missionary newsletters, usually recounting answers to prayer that took place on the mission field: obstacles to ministry removed, idols overcome, provision in times of need. It is always worthwhile to record our answers to prayer and the works of the Lord in our lives, so that it can edify us and other believers.

Many of the answers to prayer involve overcoming the fear of idols. There was one young man who became Christian, but thought he would die if he removed his “juju” charm—he didn’t. There was another man who became Christian, but kept a juju charm hidden in his home for years, until it was struck by lightning!

The success of the Hoketts is part of a much larger success story of Christianity in Africa in the past 50 years. In Ghana, Christianity in general and Pentecostalism in particular have been booming since the time of the Hoketts’ arrival in the 1960s. Today, nearly a third (31%) of Ghana is now Pentecostal according to Wikipedia. This growth in Pentecostalism is apparently due to attrition of both mainline Protestantism and traditional religion (paganism) in Ghana. Christianity in Africa has exploded since 1900, especially among populations that previously practiced African traditional religions, such as Zambia, Zimbabwe, Uganda, Liberia. Uganda had been among the frontrunners, experiencing a Christian revival in the 1880s and 1890s.

Arthur Hokett passed to his reward in 2011, and Doris still does some ministry in Nigeria, though well into retirement age. Doris’ many books are available for order here. If you like short and inspirational stories, pick up a copy of To God Be the Glory.

Review: God’s Lesser Glory

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God’s Lesser Glory: The Diminished God of Open Theism (2000) is a critique of the open theism movement, which says that future moral decisions of free agents are undetermined and therefore unknowable even to God. Bruce A. Ware is a respected Calvinist theologian and has been Professor of Christian Theology at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary since 1998. He was also president of the Evangelical Theological Society.

God’s Lesser Glory is not the first book-length rebuttal of 1990s open theism, as Norman Geisler had preceded him with Creating God in the Image of Man (1997). Ware’s book, however, is considered a go-to resource among many Calvinists that I have met.

Ware begins his preface with a call to Christian charity, and even mentions how he knew Greg Boyd, one of the key open theist authors, in seminary. He then disagrees with Boyd that the issue at hand is not of secondary importance. Ware leaves it unclear here whether they should even be considered evangelicals, but in a 2002 article, he argued that open theists should be excluded from the Evangelical Theological Society.

Open Theology Caricatured: It Is Moral Decisions That Must Be Free

Ware mis-portrays open theism at a number of points in the book, especially with regard to which future choices God does not know. The introduction to the book immediately portrays a caricature of open theism by making an analogy to our own ignorance of the future—traffic jams, unforeseen accidents (p.17), whether we will exercise (p.125), etc. Trivial and amoral examples will follow throughout as we repeatedly discuss whether or not “Carl” is going to order shrimp salad at the Oyster Bar (p.36, 40). Such examples show that Ware has missed the point of open theism. Gordon Olson taught almost 50 years ago that it is moral choices that must be free, because it is moral choices that God holds us responsible for. God may freely and providentially arrange man’s non-moral or amoral choices (Acts 17:26), because we are not eternally held responsible for them. Even in decisions with bearing on morality, God may even arrange which option we choose without encroaching on our moral responsibility, as in the story of Pharaoh in Exodus. Ware points out more than once that Boyd and Sanders both view the future as partially undetermined and partially determined, but Ware shows no awareness of the ethical motivation behind this distinction:

1) God is providentially in control of human history, so that much of the future is determined beforehand;

2) because it is unjust to be held responsible for choices that were determined beforehand by others, future moral choices must remain free, and therefore undetermined, uncertain, and unknowable.

This also clears up many of the Bible verses which are purported by Ware to contradict open theism (p.81). In fact, it undermines entire portions of Ware’s book in which he sees open theism as inadequate for explaining biblical prophecy (p.130–140). Arguably, all or nearly all of the predictions Ware lists are amoral events, and it in no way endangers open theism for them to be predicted by God. For instance, we could say that Jesus knew from Peter’s heart that Peter would temporarily deny him under pressure, but God providentially arranged the circumstances of that denial so that it would occur thrice before the cock’s crow. Another counter-example offered by Ware is God’s foreknowledge of the length of Hezekiah’s life, which Ware sees as an inextricable difficulty to the open theist (p.95–96). He is adamant that the length of Hezekiah’s life depends on “future free choices”. But surely God can control the circumstances or timing of one person’s death without infringing on their future moral decisions, even in open theism. The same rebuttal applies to people “moving” and “building houses” in the predictions of Isaiah 44. All this shows that Ware has misunderstood the fundamental presuppositions of open theism, which involve denying God’s foreknowledge of moral choices (such as following Jesus Christ), not all free choices (such as buying shrimp salad for dinner).

Ware harps on about how the open theist God could never with certainty fulfill any of the many Scriptural prophecies, because he would have to providentially manipulate circumstances in people’s lives (i.e., “future free choices”). He goes so far as to doubt that an open theist God could guarantee the second coming of Jesus Christ! He repeatedly misconstrues libertarian freedom as an outright rejection of God’s providence, and open theism as God’s total ignorance of future events. Perhaps in this he is following the language of Boyd and Sanders; but Pratney, for instance, preaches emphatically that “God is active in human history”. Even Boyd and Sanders, who wrote rebuttals to this book, stated that Ware had misconstrued their doctrine as an outsider who was unable to follow the outworking of their philosophy.

Open Theism Caricatured: God Is Supreme over History (Even in Open Theism)

Throughout the book, Ware states baldly that God doesn’t know the future in open theism and that God “learns” as the future unfolds. After questioning the reliability of a God who (as he puts it) doesn’t know the future, Ware writes, “Many readers may be surprised to learn that this very view (namely, that God does not know much of the future and has to learn what happens as that future unfolds) is being advocated by a growing number of biblical scholars, theologians, and philosophers who identify themselves as evangelicals, some of whom teach at highly respected evangelical colleges and seminaries” (p. 18). Again, ” … generally God [in open theism] does not know what will happen in the future” (p. 19). And later, “God [in open theism] plans and works without the advantage of knowing the future” (p.144)! In certain places, open theism is more correctly stated as involving “future free human choices” (p. 18, footnote), but it is largely characterised throughout as a simple denial of foreknowledge (rather than a denial of simple foreknowledge, in favor of dynamic foreknowledge). This is further clarified in a footnote on page 34, after many pages of generalisations.

The caricature worsens as he accuses open theism of questioning God’s ability to enact any overarching plan in history: “Will God succeed in fulfilling his goals? Will history move in the direction he hopes it will? Are God’s predictions and promises sure? The only answer open theists can give to these questions is that they are hopeful that God will somehow pull it off” (p.20). (Long series of rhetorical questions are an overly frequent device in the book, p.50,68,76,77,86,95,163,177.) Again, “not even God knows whether his purposes will be fulfilled” (p.51). This is absolutely an incorrect depiction of open theism, and severely weakens Ware’s argument. At these points, he is arguing against process theism, not open theism; at other points, he levels thinly veiled criticisms at Arminianism, too.

Again, on page 98, “We [the royal we] have endeavored to demonstrate that neither the divine growth-in-knowledge texts nor the repentance texts imply that God has learned something he did not previously know.” But that is not the position of open theism either! What Ware is describing here, by using the term “learn” of God, is process theism, in which God grows and learns in response to creation. He further speaks of the open theist God as being “mistaken”. In a response to Ware, Boyd agrees with me: Ware is simply not representing the open theist position correctly. In open theism, God only “learns” in the technical sense that he “experiences” our choices as they happen, which is a fact admitted by Ware, though couched differently. Additionally, saying that God “learns something he did not previously know” implies that it was there to know, yet again missing the open theist’s philosophical presupposition that future moral choices have not been determined yet.

Limited Literature Engagement

Unsurprisingly, Ware misses the fact that open theism has been around about as long as Arminianism, although obviously as a minority position. This is a fact that is largely unknown to most critics of open theism. Ware calls it a “revisionist model of God” (p.21), tracing it, as many others have done, to the 1994 book The Openness of God, with a footnoted nod to Richard Rice’s 1980 book by the same title. Rather, Rice, Boyd, Pinnock, Sanders, and others, are only the latest instantiation of a revision of Arminianism that has been around for centuries. Arminius’ own successor at Leiden University, Conrad Vorstius, questioned God’s exhaustive foreknowledge in passing in the early 1600s; in the intellectual climate of the time, this would not be borne. But Samuel Fancourt wrote extensive and detailed arguments in favor of the open view, from both Scripture and reason, from 1725 to 1735, as did James Jones in the 1820s, L. D. McCabe in the 1870s, Gordon Olson in the early twentieth century, and Roy Elseth in 1977. None of these were known to Ware, which is excusable because they have received almost no scholarly engagement. Perhaps temporal hubris is to blame.

Less excusable is Ware’s oversight of newer scholarly material such as the many works of Terence Fretheim. Fretheim’s 1984 book The Suffering of God is considered by many to be the seminal perspective toward open theology, though Fretheim does not dogmatically claim to be an open theist. Many open theist ministers that I know were strongly influenced by Terence Fretheim and W. A. Pratney, but have never heard of Greg Boyd or John Sanders. Much Wesleyan literature on prayer also includes material in favor of open theism (Bounds, Harney, Brother Andrew).

In dealing with the biblical material, Ware engages with barely any relevant commentaries, and makes no attempt at any history of interpretation. I suppose this is because of the book’s popular audience, but it would have strengthened his argument to include at least a few references from biblical studies.

Biblical Evidence & More Begging the Question (p.65–86)

Ware’s handling of the biblical text is the high point of the book, and includes very little that is objectionable. In general, I believe that his strong criticism of open theism in these verses stems from his misunderstanding of open theism more than his misunderstanding of the Scripture.

Throughout, he strongly criticises the assertion that open theism takes the “biblical high ground” by its plain reading of divine repentance texts. This problem is first mentioned on page 25, and then returns on page 65. He states that open theists are reading these Old Testament texts wrongly, and that they are anthropomorphism, but Ware offers no diagnostic with which to test his assertion, until page 86: “A given ascription to God may rightly be understood as anthropomorphic when Scripture clearly presents God as transcending the very human or finite features it elsewhere attributes to him.” Ware should have stated this hermeneutic up front, since this is the fulcrum on which the whole chapter pivots.

The biblical discussion is frequently framed around the Old Testament: Abraham’s offering of Isaac, Moses’ prayer, the rejection of Saul, the repentance of Nineveh. It would take too much time to go over every Scripture in detail, but below I’ll address some of Ware’s interpretations.

Genesis 22:12: “Now I know” (p. 67–74)

And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me.

Genesis 22:12, KJV

Here God states that Abraham has passed the test by offering up Isaac, and “now he knows” that Abraham fears God. Ware points out that many verses show that Abraham already feared God. The New Testament cross-references here have some important bearing. Since God (both in open theism and classical theism) knows Abraham’s innermost thoughts, God could not have “learned” that Abraham feared him through Abraham’s act of obedience. But here, Ware is only begging the question. If Abraham had true moral freedom of choice, then his act of obedience mattered to God, and not merely as an external display of internal thoughts. Yes, Abraham was already faithful, but what God required of him in this passage was an extraordinary level of obedience, something demanded of no one else in the entire Bible. Ware’s analysis presumes that Abraham’s obedience on Mt. Moriah was a foregone conclusion because Abraham was categorically faithful. What Abraham proved here, though, was not categorical; it was a progressive faithfulness. Mere intention would not have been enough, otherwise none of us ever need act on our initial faith—God “knows our hearts”. Both testaments are adamant that God rewards us according to our works, not according to our intentions (Ps. 28:4, Jer. 25:14, Lam. 3:64, 1 Peter 1:17, Rev. 20:12). Such interpretations show that Ware is still using determinist presuppositions in analysing a non-determinist viewpoint.

Isaiah 40–48: “The end from the beginning” (p. 102–121)

Isaiah 40–48 has a number of passages in which God proclaims his foreknowledge, even in what appears to be rather general terms. In my opinion, this is just more of Ware misunderstanding open theism. Even in open theism, God has a general foreknowledge. Even in open theism, God has a plan and a direction for human history. Even in open theism, God’s foreknowledge of human history is an important evidence of his deity. Ware thinks that he has open theists completely trapped by noting that Isaiah predicted the naming of Cyrus. In reality, as I said in the beginning of this review, this is a non-moral decision, with no bearing on the eternal reward or punishment of those involved. God’s overarching providence is especially applied in Scripture in the case of kings and nations: “The king’s heart is a waterway in the hand of the LORD; He directs it where He pleases” (Prov. 21:1). God never claims in Scripture to foreknow whether someone will follow him, or whether they will receive hell or heaven at the end of their life.

Psalm 139:4 (p.123–125)

In the section on this psalm, Ware shows a disappointing lack of understanding of the Hebrew text of this psalm and the King James Version of it. First, he deals with verse 4: “For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O Lord, thou knowest it altogether”. Ware only gives the NASB translation: “Even before there is a word on my tongue, / Behold, Lord, You know it all.” He assumes this is a hard case for exhaustive foreknowledge. In reality, the Hebrew has two possible readings through a syntactical ambiguity (Ellicott’s, Expositor’s Bible, Poole):

(a) “There is no word [present] on my tongue, [except that], lo, you know it altogether”
(b) “The word is not [yet] on my tongue, but, lo, you know it altogether”

So (a) would exhibit present knowledge, and (b) would exhibit foreknowledge. Poole and others considered the latter “more admirable”, apparently through its reinforcement of Calvinism. But there are many, even Calvinist interpreters, who do not understand this verse as having any reference to foreknowledge. Many commentators see this verse as asserting either God’s intimate knowledge of the meaning of our words (Barnes, Pulpit Commentary), or that God recognises our thoughts before they are formed into speech (Cambridge Bible, Expositor’s Bible, Geneva Study Bible). For what it’s worth, the latter has always been my understanding of the verse: God knows our thoughts and intentions before they are manifest in speech.

Psalm 139:16 “All my members” or “all my days”? (p.123–125)

Later, dealing with Psalm 139:16, Ware asks why the King James translators did not translate the word yamim (“days”) in Psalm 139:16 (p.125), implying that they completely left this word out. Confusingly, he then thinks that yamim was translated “members”—he seems entirely unsure how the English maps to the Hebrew here. In reality, the KJV translates yamim as an adverb, “in continuance”—an unusual solution. As for the word “members”, that was an attempt to supply the antecedent for the pronoun in “all of them” (kol-am), which is one of the chief difficulties of this passage. The pronoun simply lacks a clear antecedent. Commentators do not agree whether the phrase “all of them” (kol-am) refers forward to “days” (yamim) or backward to “imperfect substance” (golem). The King James translators took golem as having a kind of plural meaning, and translated kol-am “all of them” accordingly as “all my members“. Lange cites Clericus and Hitzig(?) as agreeing with this way of treating golem as the antecedent of the pronoun, but then rejects either golem or yamim as the antecedent. Text-critical scholars also think that something is fishy with the text here.

Translating yamim as “in continuance” (KJV) was not entirely without justification: similar words can act as a correlative conjunctions in other Semitic languages. Ware states, though, that commentators “uniformly” disagree with the King James here in not translating yamim as “days”. He is more or less justified in saying so, since he is only interested in contemporary works. In older commentaries, of course, I did find a few that are not so harsh on the King James: The Pulpit Commentary considers it the correct rendering. Ellicott considered it “possible, but not probable.”

Most intriguingly, John Calvin agrees with Gregory Boyd that Psalm 139:16 is about the miracle of pregnancy—not about meticulous foreordination of every detail of life.

Psalm 139 is a wonderful and intimate statement of divine omniscience, but it is not an unambiguous proof-text for exhaustive divine foreknowledge. This section was truly a weak point in Ware’s book, and he should have had it reviewed by someone who knew Hebrew.

Summation and Conclusion

In this review, I’ve still not handled the last part of the book, but I think it’s clear enough from what I’ve written that the biblical arguments of the book were undermined by his wholesale misrepresentation of open theism. His long-winded section on Bible prophecy had no teeth because he misunderstood how open theism works and why people believe it. His constant repetition that the open theist God “doesn’t know the future” was ostensibly a convenient shorthand, but, in my opinion, shows that his argument was not a “good faith” criticism of open theism. Such inflammatory language acts as a misdirect for uninformed readers, further polarises the discussion, and is unproductive. While Ware seeks to criticise open theism, he is mostly just criticising Greg Boyd and John Sanders—and there are many other open theists to choose from. If I recall correctly, Ware cited his own article on immutability about as much as he cited the entire wealth of biblical studies experts and Bible commentators. As someone who has heard from a variety of open theist teachers, many of Ware’s arguments simply didn’t apply.

Ware concludes that open theism has “adjusted its view of God to be culturally appealing at the expense of biblical fidelity” (p.175). If he knew the literature better, he would know that twentieth-century open theism was largely pioneered by biblical theologians such as Terence Fretheim and Walter Brueggemann, and was motivated by faithfulness to the tone and tenor of the text, especially of the Hebrew Bible, over against forced interpretations motivated by external considerations from systematic theology.

Review: Spiritual Authority

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Author: Watchman Nee was a Chinese church leader and teacher. In addition to serving tirelessly in the Chinese church, he was an extremely prolific translator, and a huge quantity of his talks were transcribed into books.

Introduction

Spiritual Authority (1972) is a series of twenty messages originally delivered in Chinese in 1948 in Guling (Kuling), China, for the training of Christian workers. The book has been translated into Korean, French, Portuguese, Spanish, Romanian, Hungarian, and Finnish. The first half of the book was reprinted from 1988 as Authority and Submission.

Spiritual Authority begins with a famed quotation from Romans, which is integral to the book:

Let every soul be in subjection to the higher powers: for there is no power but of God; and the powers that be are ordained of God . . .

Romans 13:1, King James Version

Nee establishes authority first and foremost as an attribute of God (ch. 1), and then reviews a series of instances of rebellion against God’s authority (ch. 2–3). He finds godly submission exemplified in King David (ch. 4), in Jesus to the Father (ch. 5), and in our obedience (ch. 6). God’s kingdom is established by obedience (ch. 6). God’s authority has three types (ch. 7), all of which believers are called to obey. Nee later goes over rebellion in even more detail (ch. 8–9). The second half of the book (ch. 11–20) goes over qualifications of delegated (spiritual) authority and is essentially an extension of what is found in the first half; at some point, the book gets quite repetitive once you have accepted its main premise that we are called to (almost unconditionally) obey both “God’s authority” and “delegated authority”.

The conceptual problems with this book, as I see it, fall into three groups:

  1. The conflation of different types of authority;
  2. The contradiction of different types of authority;
  3. The conditions of human authority.

All Authorities Lumped Together

The crux of the book is the wholesale conflation of various different types of authority. In chapter 7, he explains the concept of “delegated authority” or “representative authority”. He says that delegated authority falls into three types:

  1. Authorities in the world (i.e. civil authorities)
    “God is the source of all authorities in the universe. Now since all governing authorities are instituted by Him, then all authorities are delegated by Him and represent His authority. God Himself has established this system of authority in order to manifest Himself. Wherever people encounter authority they meet God.” (p.59)
  2. Authorities in the family (i.e. husbands over wives, parents over children)
    “God has set the husband as the delegated authority of Christ, with the wife as representative of the church.” (p. 63)
  3. Authorities in the church (i.e. elders, and men generally)
    “God sets in the church authorities [i.e., elders, ministers]. . . They are the ones whom everyone should obey. The younger ones in age must also learn to be subject to the older ones.” (p. 65)

There is no recognition by Nee that different authorities obtain in different areas of life—though God supersedes all of them. Throughout the book, Nee toggles freely between God, parents, priests, prophets, kings, magistrates, and others as broadly comparable examples of “authority”. This painting with a broad brush is highly problematic—surely obeying civic authority should not be viewed as equal to obeying your priest or pastor. Look at his list of examples of rebellion from chapters 2 and 3:

  • The fall of Adam and Eve (Gen. 3)—against divine authority
  • The rebellion of Ham (Gen. 9)—against parental authority
  • Strange fire offered by Nadab and Abihu (Lev. 10)—against divine authority
  • The reviling of Aaron and Miriam (Num. 12)—against Moses
  • The rebellion of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram (Num. 16)—against Moses and Aaron

You may notice two things: first, these rebellions are against several different types of authority; second, they all take place under the Old Covenant.

Obviously, disobeying God’s own words may be viewed as rebellion (Adam and Eve, Nadab and Abihu). Moses carries multiple types of authority and had a very special status in the entire Old Covenant, as the giver of the Covenant of the Law itself. It is no surprise that disobeying Moses carries divine wrath; he was to be “as God” to Pharaoh. I’m not sure “rebellion” is the right category for the sin of Ham, however shameful. It is difficult to draw a direct line from any of these stories to my own position relative to my pastor.

It is no coincidence that all Nee’s examples of rebellion take place in the Old Testament. Nee is formulating principles towards church practice in respecting ministers, but he’s using examples that have little to do with delegated authority in the New Testament church. This is rather out of place, since Nee and his movement put so much stock in making their church just like the New Testament.

When Authorities Contradict: Righteous Disobedience

The entire argument also unravels when one type of authority is in contradiction of another. The prophets routinely preached against kings and went to spiritual battle against civic authorities and even wicked priests, at great danger to themselves (e.g., Jer. 1:18, 26:12, Ezek. 21:25–26). Were they in “rebellion”, too, since they disobeyed delegated authority?

Moreover, why would God himself set up these wicked kings and priests? And why does he call his prophets to prophesy against “his delegated authority”? Why does one God-given authority contradict another God-given authority? Nee offers no answers here. And it is not only relevant for long-dead prophets: Nee barely touches righteous civil disobedience such as that enacted repeatedly by Brother Andrew.

There are only two passages in Spiritual Authority where Nee mentions instances of righteous disobedience:

“The whole New Testament stands behind delegated authority. The only exception is found in Acts 5:29 when Peter and the apostles answered the Jewish council which forbade them to teach in the name of the Lord Jesus. Peter answered by saying, ‘We must obey God rather [than] men.’ This was due to the fact that the delegated authority here had distinctly violated God’s command and trespassed against the Person of the Lord.” (p. 72)

“Now was it right for Martin Luther to stand up and speak for the fundamental principle of justification by faith? Yes, for he was obeying God in standing for the truth.” (p. 109)

The first passage merely begs the question: how do we determine whether an authority has “distinctly violated God’s command”? Nee offers us no guidance there. He assumes that we can all agree on what “God’s command” is—whereas, respectfully, I would say that God’s Word needs to be interpreted, and it can be interpreted wrongly.

The commandment of God may frequently cause us to be in direct contravention of civic laws. Even today, as Nee himself experienced, millions of Christian believers live in areas where churches are illegal. Is there a “distinct command” to go to church on Sunday? How are these believers to obey both authorities, that of God and that of the government?

I should add, Acts 5:29 is far from the only case of Christian disobedience in the New Testament. We also have, before that, Peter and John to the rulers, elders and scribes (Acts 4:19–20). Jesus disobeyed the Pharisees by healing on the Sabbath (Mark 3).The martyrs of John’s Revelation certainly do not obey the “authority” of the beast (Rev. 13:7, 15). In the Old Testament, we also have the Hebrew midwives (Exodus 1:17) and Daniel’s prayer (Daniel 6:13). I’ve already mentioned the prophets who preached against wicked leadership. Finally, I can’t see a reason why Nee cherry-picks his examples of righteous rebellion from the New Testament and his examples of wicked rebellion from the Old Testament.

When Authorities Contradict: Wicked Obedience

Many passages in the book point to a dangerous concept of obedience that is static and unthinking, and for Nee, this includes delegated authority, meaning our pastors and Christian leaders.

“All who serve God must categorically refrain from making decisions on the basis of their own thoughts; rather, they are to execute the will of God.”

Spiritual Authority, p. 102

Such statements become rather extreme when the thrust of the argument is taken as a whole. 1) All authorities, including my pastor, are delegated authority. 2) I am never to rebel or talk back. 3) I should not even think about making decisions before obeying. This pattern obviously leads to a slippery slope of cult-like obedience.

He even goes on to thoroughly discourage believers from ever criticizing anyone in authority, since they would then be in the beginning stages of rebellion:

“He who is truly obedient will find God’s authority in every circumstance, in the home, and in other institutions. . . . Special attention must be paid each time words of reviling are uttered. Such words should not be idly spoken. Reviling proves that there is a rebellious spirit within; it is the germination of rebellion.”

Spiritual Authority, p. 32

This should certainly raise the hackles of many American readers, who are raised to believe that we can criticize even our our commander-in-chief with great freedom. There are principles here that are correct—in general, we should respect leadership, inside and outside the church—but Nee’s principles are given with no moderation whatsoever. This extreme position is what makes this book a dangerous form of teaching, and one that I cannot commend to any Christian disciple. We should not revile our pastors or leaders, but we are not under a yoke of law in which we can never disagree with them or speak ill of them. Pastors are human.

Conclusion: Authority Is Conditional

At its best, Spiritual Authority teaches Christians to respect established authority, including our church leaders and government leaders. At its worst, it has the power to prop up abusive, exploitative, pseudo-Christian leaders with an insidious double command to obey what they ask and not to complain or gossip against them. I remind all my readers that all Christian discipleship has an element of disobedience in it—”against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places” (Eph. 6:12). Choosing to obey God at all costs often necessitates disobeying worldly systems and wicked leaders; this sometimes even includes Christian leaders, when they have gone astray.

The end of the matter is that all obedience to human authority should be considered as conditional. In general, I obey civic authority and follow the law; but if it contravenes my Christian convictions, I do not hesitate to disobey, especially in core matters of devotional life, Christian community, and preaching the gospel. Likewise, in general, I obey church authority and respect my church leadership. There are several issues in which I disagree with my church leadership, and these are open for discussion, but I do not constantly press the issue or work against my own pastor, like a mutineer. While we are working together for the gospel, I maintain a bond of peace and trust between us. But Nee rightly points out, if anyone in authority rebels against the authority that is above them, then by their action, that person loses my respect, and may lose his good standing or even position—and hopefully this would be proportionate to the disobedience. No one is above accountability, and that has never been the correct understanding of spiritual authority. May we rightly understand the conditions of spiritual authority.

Afterword: The Influence of Nee’s Culture

Though it does not fit with the rest of my review, something needs to be said about how Nee’s home culture influenced his biblical interpretation in this regard. China is known as being a culture that values honor and thinks somewhat collectively. In fact, these values have been measured by Geert Hofstede in his important work on cross-cultural communication. In Hofstede’s model of cultural dimensions, China ranks very high for power distance (80/100), and very low for individualism (20/100). The United States is somewhat opposite, ranking low for power distance (40/100) and very high for individualism (91/100). “Power distance” is a dimension for how cultures differentially honor and obey leadership. It also correlates with appreciation of hierarchies. China’s very high rank means that Nee’s enforcement of hierarchies is following the stream of thought of his upbringing.

It stands to reason, then, that Watchman Nee wrote so strongly about authority because of his Chinese upbringing. His writings, though they are mostly good, plain teaching, are severely lacking in any cultural awareness, breadth of opinion, or tact. Or, as a friend once said, “Nee is great, but with him, everything is ‘my way or the highway’.”

Review: The Foreknowledge of God (Olson)

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Gordon C. Olson was a Bible teacher influential in the early years of Youth With a Mission (YWAM). He taught evangelism and theology and often explored issues around Calvinism and Arminianism (but he is not to be confused with C. Gordon Olson, who wrote on remarkably similar topics, and is of no relation).

The Foreknowledge of God (1941) is a theological inquiry into the relation between divine foreknowledge and human freedom. Today, it is classified as an “open theist” stance, but it predates that terminology, as do Samuel Fancourt and Lorenzo Dow McCabe. People with YWAM links may consider Olson’s work to be seminal in this area, whereas in mainstream evangelicalism, most people learned (or learn) of open theism through modern theologians like Greg Boyd, Terence Fretheim, and John Sanders.

Gordon Olson writes from the point of view of denial of “absolute divine foreknowledge”—in other words, God plans and causes much of the future (as written in prophecy) but does not plan and cause all of it. Olson was not a professor or an armchair theologian, but a mobilizer of evangelism. He quotes extensively from certain classic writers of the Reformed period and some Wesleyan theologians. Olson himself quotes extensively from Lorenzo Dow McCabe’s work on the topic in the 1880s. Because he predated the modern debate on open theism by some fifty years, he does not interact with any authors now well-known for open theism; and he remains practically unknown to many of them as well because he mainly operated in the parachurch crowd, not in academia. It is interesting, then, that the arguments that they present are more or less the same.

The introduction has a stunningly long compilation of quotations from theologians asserting the total incompatibility between absolute divine foreknowledge and free will. This incompatibility is noted by Calvinists and Arminians alike, including conservatives and liberals, across centuries of the Christian church. This stream of quotations was a striking way to open the book, and in my opinion is itself worth the price of the book, since it justifies Olson’s line of inquiry. My favorite quotation here was Martin Luther: “Divine foreknowledge is a thunderbolt to dash free will to atoms!”

For those who have not heard of open theism or have only heard secondhand, Olson offers a great introduction to the open point of view. His book is more accessible than McCabe or Fancourt.

Unlike Fancourt, Olson calls the open theist position “denying absolute foreknowledge” or for short, “denying foreknowledge”. This is, in my view, a weakness of Olson’s language. Fancourt stubbornly affirmed foreknowledge, but sought to redefine what was foreknowable on proto-Wesleyan terms. McCabe, a philosopher, spoke of “divine nescience of future contingencies”, which sounds too technical to be a heresy. Olson, Boyd, and most modern open theists, write and speak, in so many words, of “denying foreknowledge”, and this attracts the barbs of their opponents. But when they are describing theologically is justified from the same reasoning and the same Scriptures that led Fancourt and McCabe to their position.

I appreciate that Olson is able to lead us through the paradoxicality of the abstract “eternal now”, so foundational to many determinist viewpoints, as well as the more basic and practical problem of determinism: It makes us want to sit on our hindquarters and await the inevitable. All in all, Olson’s arguments may not sound particularly unique to those who are well-read on open theism; however, the time in which he made them, and the initial chapter which quotes many Calvinists, lend some interest to this book.

In a valuable appendix, Olson also gives an extensive table of Scriptures which support or deny “absolute divine foreknowedge”. Sola scriptura believers should grapple seriously with the many Scriptures that present seemingly contradictory views on foreknowledge. Reconciling foreknowledge with free will is a logical, theological, philosophical problem, yes, but for the Christian believer, it is also a biblical problem.

Chapter 3 is where Olson presents most of his argument in favor of the “open” worldview. Because of the somewhat odd outline of the book, Chapter 3 takes up a large portion of the book and is divided into six sections. Olson gives six reasons to “deny [absolute divine] foreknowledge”:

  • To provide for the duration of time necessary for human experience and relationship
  • To provide for God’s free will
  • To provide for man’s free will
  • To provide a tenable theodicy
  • To restore the spiritual and volitional energies of the soul
  • To satisfy Scripture

He recapitulates these six points in Chapter 4, which summarises his arguments. I’ll conclude with these quotations; if they whet your appetite, you may want to download Olson’s book, which is freely available in PDF, and is now quite cheap in print.

  1. To provide for the duration of time necessary for human experience and relationship
    If God lives in the past, present, and future all at once, which is commonly stated as an “eternal now”and generally admitted by prescientists (those believing in absolute foreknowledge), then there can be no succession of thoughts or acts or experiences in God’s existence, or, the all important element of time is not an element of His being. He therefore ceases to have personal characteristics and becomes to us an impersonal force, with the result that there is no common basis of fellowship with Him and we cannot say that we can know or experience the life of God.
  2. To provide for God’s free will
    Because the absolute divine foreknowledge of all events or acts from all eternity must result in the conclusion that God never originated a single choice. If everything conceivable existed with God from all eternity the will of God is not free and has never exerted a free choice to originate anything.
  3. To provide for man’s free will
    If God foreknows all the moral choices of His free beings, everything that ever has or ever shall come to pass has from eternity been a fixed certainty in the divine mind. In order to have proper freedom of the human will, it must have the power to determine for itself between two or more possible choices in a given instance. This freedom would make the future uncertain or contingent. Since certainty and contingency are incompatible, the certain foreknowledge of God and the contingent actions of men are incompatible. The foreknowledge of God therefore denies to moral agents their proper freedom of will.
  4. To provide a tenable theodicy
    If God foreknew before all creation, with absolute certainty, all the terrible suffering in this life, and all those who would suffer unspeakably throughout the countless ages of eternity, and He brought them into existence anyway, then we are tempted to question the good character and wisdom of God.
  5. To restore the spiritual and volitional energies of the soul
    Foreknowledge is denied because this doctrine creates in the mind, realized or unrealized, the idea that the future is a fixity. The Christian says within himself, either in honest words or suppressed thoughts, that since God knows the future and has determined everything that He will do throughout eternity, volitional acts of the spiritual life, or prayer, cannot change anything. This doctrine therefore becomes an impediment to the Christian and an excuse to the unsaved.
  6. To satisfy Scripture
    And finally, the above mentioned formidable difficulties have been the occasion for the inquiry into the teachings of Scriptures on such a momentous doctrine, (which is indeed the foundation stone of many other doctrines which stand or fall with it). It is found that the Bible gives very many positive testimonies against the doctrine of absolute divine prescience.
This review was written in 2020 and published in 2023. I had read the book many years earlier and went back over it for this review. Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought about Olson's book!