The Case for Christian Nationalism

by Stephen Wolfe

Evangelical elites and the progressive media complex want you to think that Christian nationalism is hopelessly racist, bigoted, and an idol for right-wing Christians. Is Christian nationalism the golden calf of the religious right---or is it the only way forward?Few “experts” answering this question actually know what nationalism is--and even fewer know what could make it Christian. In The Case for Christian Nationalism, Stephen Wolfe offers a tour-de-force argument for the good of Christian nationalism, taken from Scripture and Christian thinkers ancient, medieval, and modern. Christian nationalism is not only the necessary alternative to secularism, it is the form of government we must pursue if we want to love our neighbors and our country.

Wolfe shows that the world’s post-war consensus has successfully routed the United States towards a gynocratic Global American Empire (GAE). Rather than the religious right’s golden calf, Christian nationalism is the idea that people in the same place and culture should live together and seek one another’s good. The grace of the gospel does not eliminate our geography, our people, and our neighbors. Instead, it restores us to pursue local needs and local leadership freely and without apology.

If you want to be able to answer the political debate raging today, you must understand the arguments in The Case for Christian Nationalism.

Genres: Politics, Theology, Philosophy, Cultural, Nonfiction, Christian, Christianity

479 pages, Kindle Edition

First published November 1, 2022

Reviews

[Jeremy]

Heh.

Free companion here. Summary video here.

Regarding the kinism controversy, it's either ignorant or wicked to call Stephen a kinist. He doesn't promote it in his book, and he retracted the tweet about the relative sinfulness of interracial marriage. You could skip to 29:43 or 35:43 in this CrossPolitic interview.

Josh Daws provides a primer for the uninitiated here, and Mike Sabo does something similar here. Here are some short threads on the case for CN and what CN is responsible for.

In 2017, Stephen published an article in praise of cultural Christianity at Mere Orthodoxy.

Here's Stephen's response to critics who say that the only feasible Christian nation is the church.

Stephen critiques theonomy here. As far as I can tell, the main difference between theonomy and Stephen's Christian nationalism is that Stephen appreciates a classical, natural law (Thomistic) approach, whereas theonomists do not.

Longshore interview here. Helpful guide here, and related thoughts here. Interview with Wilson here. Here's Andrew Walker on the topic at WORLD.

Leithart writes here that "Every nation should be Christian," but that "doesn't make Christians 'nationalists,'" because "Nationalism is a political theory or program that makes the nation's own good its primary aim," and "Christians must always seek the kingdom first." Leithart has a more direct review here, and he defends Alastair here.

Brian Mattson claims that this book isn't a work of serious scholarship, and "the hype is unwarranted." Here's a thread that claims Mattson misreads Bavinck, and here's a thread that says he misinterprets Lex Rex. Wilson responds to Mattson here (referencing an article by Sumpter, which mentions an article by Tomes), and Mattson disagrees here. Stephen himself provides a lengthy response here.

Here's a review by James Clark. Mark Hall reviews the book here, and Hall participates in a symposium at American Reformer; symposium contributors were John Ehrett, Mark Hall, Timon Cline, and Cory Higdon.

Neil Shenvi has a four part review: summary, positives, objections, and conclusions. Here's Stephen's brief reply to Neil's review. Neil has a follow-up post here.

Read Susannah Black Roberts's critique here. And here is DeYoung's review at TGC (and a brief response from Stephen). London Lyceum review here. Negative Reason review here.

See Achord stuff here.

Here's Stephen on the virtue of hospitality, including familial, national, and ecclesial.

[Brian K · Rating 5 out of 5]

The kerfuffle surrounding the book seems to occur when a reader disagrees with the conclusion—that Christian nationalism is a viable political option—but won’t or can’t engage with the premises that get us there. Those weak firecracker criticisms generate more heat than light.

I’m waiting for someone to engage with the widely accepted Christian and conservative premises and provide a compelling counterargument. Until then, Wolfe has done a compelling job stating the case for Christian parents working to make sure their kids grow up in a country that’s MORE Christian than the one they grew up in.

His premises are straightforward—and so is the historical and theological support he brings for each one. (That’s the reason this book needs to be 400+ pages. It’s a CASE, not a tweetstorm.)

Here’s a 30,000 foot summary of those tricky premises no one wants to engage with:

1. Societal organization existed before the Fall, so it’s natural and good.
2. The basis of society is that every person loves the people close to them, and that’s natural and good, too.
3. Therefore, a society composed of people working for each other’s earthly and heavenly good is also natural and good.

That’s it. That’s Christian nationalism.

All orthodox Christians can agree with those premises, and it doesn’t entail racism, hatred, or jumping barriers at the Capitol.

Of course there’s much more to this book, and Wolfe deals with lots more practical questions, including: Can cultural Christianity be a force for good? What can laws do, and what can’t laws do? What would a leader in such a society look like? How does liberty of conscience function in such a society? Is rebellion allowable? Did the founding fathers think about America in this way?

And what’s also fun about this book is that Wolfe states an optimistic future, rejecting things that are tearing our nation apart and laying the groundwork for important conversations in the future. Here’s to decades more discussions inspired by “The Case for Christian Nationalism”! Five stars because this book is so thoughtfully written about such a divisive topic.

[Terry · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a serious and scholarly work about a subject which many find distasteful. Nevertheless, it is a worthy read and even if you don't agree with the author's premise, this work is likely going to be the standard for thought leaders in this school of political thought for some time. It is heady and appropriately academic in nature, but not overly so. It is accessible to laymen, as well. Whether you consider Christian Nationalism to be a valid movement or wish to defeat it, this is the best book to pick up on the subject so that you can be arguing based on the same definitions.

I am supportive of the author's message. This book represents the best and most clear representation of the CN movement's goals and philosophy. It is my hope that it becomes the standard and I think that is likely to be the case.

[Wes McAdams · Rating 1 out of 5]

This book was appalling. Stephen Wolfe believes the United States should be an Anglo-Christian nation in which only Anglo-Christian people have full citizenship. He believes violent revolution to create a Christian nation is warranted, religious heretics can be executed by the state, and people of different ethnicities should not and cannot live together well.

This book does not reflect a Christian worldview or perspective.

One of the most important themes of the New Testament is that Jesus has created a multi-ethnic family, the church. Paul spent his entire ministry insisting that Jewish Christians and Christians of every other nationality (Gentiles) should live TOGETHER in love and harmony. Paul did not believe people needed to share cultural or ethnic identity and customs in order to live together as family. In fact, Paul even rebuked Peter when Peter showed preferential treatment toward people of his own ethnic group (see Galatians 2:11-14).

[Kevin D. Johnson · Rating 1 out of 5]

I have taken a closer look at Wolfe’s Introduction to his book on Christian Nationalism. What I find is something common to almost every work in social science today. Keep in mind that Wolfe explicitly presents a political theory and not in fact political theology or some kind of exegetical case for his point of view. In the Introduction, Wolfe problematizes a subject and advances a critical theory meant to motivate change on the part of his readers. This move is inherently Foucauldian.

Wolfe begins by noting that “the absence of God in public life is now normal”, he invokes Rousseau to claim that today’s Christians glory in their suffering, our religion is used as a “coping device for inaction”, and that our problem today is a “lack of will” for political change.

Wolfe then wants to advance a political theory that will “enliven…the hearts of Christians” so that they then are inspired to take action for their good. Wolfe attempts to frame this as a positive answer to what he calls the “secularist civil religion” of our day, but really it’s offered as a negative dialectic as much as we might call it anything positive because his chief concern is to answer the problematization in play. In this way, Wolfe is entirely postmodern in his approach. Wolfe isn’t presenting a normative political theory that attempts to explain the world, he’s offering an alternative critical theory meant to change it. The change he seeks is right in line with Marx’s Eleventh Thesis on Feuerbach, “Philosophers have hitherto only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it.”

We should consider that Augustine wasn’t the only one to frame man’s condition in terms of creation, fall, and redemption. Marx did also and the key difference is the demythologizing Marx offered through gutting Hegel’s work of any Christian content. Of course, Wolfe would like to return to a sort of baptized critical theory in his establishment of Christian Nationalism but he is working in the same vein as Adorno, Horkheimer, Marcuse, and the general dictates of political science today as far as theory is concerned. Wolfe would answer that he’s not doing sociology in his work but I don’t believe him. Political science is just as much social science as sociology is and both are thoroughly infected with critical theory throughout the disciplines.

So far, most critical reviews of Wolfe’s work of any substance have focused on how Wolfe misinterprets the Reformed tradition as if the book in the main is about Reformed theology. Critics are certainly right to knock Wolfe here as Mattson has brilliantly done, but I would suggest that Wolfe’s methodology is largely unconcerned with the details of the various Reformed traditions in play. First of all, Wolfe pretends there is a single Reformed tradition to speak of when the fact of the matter is that there are multiple streams in play with both the magisterial Reformation and what we might call post-Reformation Reformed scholasticism. There is actually a great diversity in thought the deeper you go into the various historical sources, but you will never catch Wolfe talking about the Reformed traditions in play as any sort of conversation partner with the actual traditions themselves (except, for example, to dismiss the likes of Augustine or Luther as he moves toward Aquinas). Wolfe merely assumes he’s speaking for the Reformed tradition and as such his presentation is entirely begging the question in the first place.

In fact, Wolfe even extends this to a larger unitary Christian tradition also. Wolfe constantly acts like there is only one Christian tradition. This is perhaps best seen when Wolfe pretends that “the Christian tradition” has historically seen love in three ways (benevolence, beneficence, and complacence). In fact, Christianity has seen love in massively different ways that can’t merely be framed through the work of Aquinas or Edwards as Wolfe representatively cites them for the whole of Christian tradition, both rather late witnesses considering the extensive commentary over the last two thousand years on the subject of love. He’s just wrong here and misrepresents the diverse nature of Christianity throughout the centuries on a fundamental question like the definition of love.

We don’t even see the nuance of Turretin distinguishing between this and that in Wolfe’s Epilogue, for example. No, the politeness of an academic theory is left behind for what’s ultimately tweetable in the last section of his book and operative for political change. Wolfe presents post-Reformation Reformed scholastics precisely because he is appealing to a Reformed audience conditioned by the likes of the Davenant Institute and Richard Muller’s Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics to see a certain type of historical theology as acceptable sources. In other words, Wolfe needs Aquinas to ground his prelapsarian approach in something valuable to his readers. What better than a selective read of Reformed scholastics that purportedly borrowed from Aquinas and Aristotle? Wolfe’s sources are, true to form, very selective, postmodern in their appropriation since it is anachronistic to say they would endorse a Christian nationalism, and he also ignores other important voices in the various traditions that could be employed to speak against his theory.

Further, Wolfe also forgets that nationalism as he theorizes was not in play per se in the 17th-18th centuries but rather the discovery of a New World and colonialism along with the likes of Westphalia. The Massachusetts Bay Colony was a colony, not a new nation, so grounding religious tolerance in the descendants of Cotton Mather don’t ring quite as true as he would like. Geneva was a city-state of sorts, not a nation. So, whatever Wolfe would like to posit toward nationalism in its historical context is likely operative in arguing for other alternatives seen in things like the foundation of the Dutch Republic establishing the modern nation-state, a new international order contra the previous Holy Roman Empire, and the rise of the British Empire, itself a multi-ethnic conglomerate.

Notice that Wolfe has an entire chapter devoted to revolution and a second one on freedom of conscience. The critical nature of critical theory is to liberate the oppressed and the yearning toward freedom is the one thing that critical theory seeks to establish. While Wolfe’s view is premised on order (following, incidentally, Hegel), the truth is he seeks freedom for a nation to do good in line with the dictates of the gospel. So, Wolfe’s viewpoint properly understood also aligns with critical theory. The question is not whether Wolfe is some kind of Marxist parading as a Nationalist but rather the methodology he employs and the goal of his working theory.

Wolfe also demonstrates other tendencies common to contemporary political thought that go uncited and unnoticed unless one has read Marcuse and other critical theorists. Watch in his chapter on revolution how he describes today’s society in fine Marcusean fashion:

“The powers of our modern world—the ones that undermined true religion in the West—are more implicit and psychological; they operate in the normalization of secularism. Its normalization is evident in the fact that “normal” people affirm it, live it, and expect it. Our secularized minds are shaped for it, and thus theological traditions that are clearly opposed to secularism had to be recast as its greatest adherents (e.g., modern two-kingdoms theology).” (341)

Further, Wolfe then goes on to say that the solution to “normalized modern liberalism” is “deconstruction” because the current “regime’s chief objective is suppressing an activist Christian religion that seeks Christian normalization and anti-secularism” the very thing Wolfe would like to see instituted as Christian Nationalism.

The point here is not to call Wolfe a Cultural Marxist but only to identify that the methodology of his book certainly follows the dictates of critical theory and his project can be seen in that light given how he proceeds throughout his book to establish a case for what he calls Christian Nationalism. While Wolfe draws on selective support from historical theology, remember that his work is really a political theory and ought to be evaluated as such. The irony, of course, in being yet another instance of critical theory at work is that it remains a racist accounting meant to support a nationalism that isn’t Christian and that remains attached to the obscure political movement of Kinism. Other more sinister tones are offered in light of struggle, the will of a people, and the constant focus on order in the book that should also give one pause the same way films like Triumph of the Will cause us to shudder today. The real historical tradition Wolfe relies on here is much more a matter of nineteenth century romanticism and the stuff of Wagnerian operas. Thinking Reformed theology is the primary driver of his viewpoint is a royal mistake as he quotes figures like Ernest Renan in addition to Aquinas and whoever else provides cover for the inherent racism he projects through terms like ethnicity.

[Jake Litwin · Rating 2 out of 5]

There’s a lot that could be said but in brief summary, there is unfortunately way too much Thomistic dualism that gets in the way, which brings out many false dichotomies theologically throughout the book.

Peter Leithart does an excellent job addressing this here:

https://theopolisinstitute.com/leitha...

On a positive note, Wolfe’s comments regarding the “globalist American empire” (GAE), gynocracy, and individualism were very insightful.

For anyone looking for resources on how to think about Christian nations but saturated with scripture and biblical theology, I highly recommend “Christendom and the Nations” by James B. Jordan and “The Mission of God” by Joseph Boot.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Much has already been written about "The Case for Christian Nationalism” by far more educated and well-read personalities than myself. Most of what I’ve seen, though, really doesn’t interact with the substance of the book. Instead, the critics have seemed to key in on a few of his big ideas, and largely ignored the rest of his book. This is very unfortunate, as the book is very thought-provoking and wide-ranging. The critics would have you think that the book is narrowly focused, but this is far from reality.

Wolfe embraces what was meant as an epithet (“Christian Nationalist”) and, in fact asks, would you rather be a pagan nationalist? P. 379 In my mind, this is the heart of the book—Christians should not be ashamed to believe or desire that nations be directed by Scripture rather than the spirit of the age.

Wolfe has offered his articulation of what he believes the reformed tradition has taught, and he may be wrong, but he’s offered an excellent critique of the mess we’re in, and what he believes is the way out of it. I admire him for the thought he has put forth and argued.

The book is not without its drawbacks. First, and probably most obvious, is the lack of a bibliography. I don’t understand why Canon thought it was acceptable to publish a book with so many cited sources without either a bibliography or a list of related works. Secondly, Wolfe argues more from the reformed tradition than Scripture. He says this outright in the beginning, and that’s fine, but the book would be far more persuasive and better argued if he interacted with more primary texts.

From chapter four through the end, the book is a compelling articulation of what we’re doing wrong and what we should pursue as Christians in an “occupied land.” Christians have bought into the myth of pluralism and have accepted a western version of dhimmitude (my words, not his). Many of Wolfe’s critics would argue that it is here that Wolfe confuses Christ’s kingdom with an earthly kingdom. But I think that is a misreading of Wolfe. Wolfe argues that we love our neighbors when we desire their highest good—and that highest good can only be found in living according to God’s Word. This seems like a fairly obvious and even uncontroversial idea, but it is not in our pluralistic age.

Much more could be said, but readers will profit from this book, and I hope that this book generates others to consider the questions that Wolfe raises, as this is a profitable book.

[Luke · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s just fine. Unique enough to exist as its own entity, nowhere near as revolutionary as some people seem to think. There is good stuff here, but you can find that good stuff elsewhere.

Grounding a political philosophy in prelapsarian anthropology (conjecture) seems, to me, no better than grounding it in eschatology (revealed certainty).

I remain reticent on Thomistic political philosophy, and Two Kingdoms still has an annoying tendency to teeter towards the facts/value, lower/upper story dichotomy, elevating the civil realm to the subtle denigration of the church. This is especially odd when your project is sold as recovering the political philosophy of a bunch of theologians. Apparently the minister of the Word CAN tell the magistrate what to do so long as he’s been in the ground for a few centuries.

Wolfe’s conceptions and arguments based off of the concept of ‘ethnos’ are too vague to be helpful, and he wobbles back and forth between using it in a cultural sense and a racial sense. That said, please read the book before you accuse the man of being a racist, because otherwise you just look like a moron.

[Sam · Rating 3 out of 5]

Having to write this review has been bogging me down for months. Frankly, I would need a more in-depth pencil-in-hand reading in order to properly collect my thoughts and critique his arguments. Here's the fly over.
Positives: I think Wolfe does get a lot of things right. The chapter on cultural Christianity especially I can Amen to wholeheartedly. And I would choose Wolfe's America over the one our wispy evangelical establishment is hard at work creating.
That said, I think Wolfe makes some pretty serious errors. If I had to sum it up, I'd say that he misunderstands the purpose and the jurisdiction of the state. There seems to be no end to what the state is permitted to do in order to 'direct the people to their earthly and spiritual good' (a paraphrase from memory).
Wolfe argues thoroughly and carefully, I'll give him that. But I would find him more convincing if he could show that his vision is a biblical one. Now, Wolfe has anticipated this objection; he clarifies early that he's chosen to argue from folks like reformers and church fathers, who themselves argued from scripture, rather than going back and redoing all their argumentative groundwork. Wolfe is allowed to do that, but it doesn't do much for the integrity of his case. When he quotes Calvin to support a claim that I find ridiculous, my reaction is: interesting, Calvin was sure off his rocker on that one.
On the ethnic mixing stuff: true to a degree but over-applied. Yes, a nation can't be stable when swamped with massive numbers of people with radically different values. But when it comes to ethnic mixing in general (through intermarriage) we should not take it upon ourselves to protect the blessings of our ethnic heritages by keeping our marriages within our own group. That is not the way God's blessings work. When you try to grasp onto thing and keep it for yourself, God will take it from you. Paradoxically, if we are willing to let them go, God will cause them to flourish even more. Why doesn't this apply to the mass immigration example? In that situation, the problem is not too much cultural synthesis but no cultural synthesis. Instead, the nation is diverging split into radically different subgroups.

[Caleb M. Powers]

Wolfe is a smart guy, and made an internally consistent argument for a Thomistic, Two-Kingdoms Christian Nationalist project. I think it's perfectly fair to say that, for the most part, he knew what he was writing and succeeded in presenting the case he meant to present.

I genuinely enjoyed most of the chapter on nationhood, revolution, and the epilogue particularly, and Wolfe had many excellent nuggets of wisdom scattered throughout the book.

Wolfe is reiterating the case the Reformers made, and while the Reformers were brilliant, and led the Church out of the darkness of Roman Catholic dogma in so many ways (soteriology being chief among them), they were unfortunately still far too influenced by Greek metaphysics and political theory here.

Wolfe is certainly an adequate presenter of their ideas and how they could apply to a modern context, but I wish he had done more theological work here, as the lack of it led to confusion on several important categories, chief among them being a constant conflation of society/ethnicity/nation with the state/civil government.

[Travis Robnett · Rating 3 out of 5]

Positives:
The work is an achievement as a historical retrieval project and was extremely helpful to me as a student learning about the political theology of the Magisterial Reformers.

​A big positive in Wolfe’s political vision is the telos. In his definition of Christian nationalism, he says the purpose of a Christian nation is “to procure for itself both earthly and heavenly good in Christ.”

​I think the best argument Wolfe makes is for cultural Christianity, which he argues prepares people to receive the gospel. I share his disgruntlement over evangelical leaders who have celebrated its decline.


Negatives:
For a book whose thesis is tied so closely with nationalism, the concept of “nation” is never clearly defined. Wolfe admits that this is a problem: “The idea of nation is notoriously difficult to define, and identifying true nations is equally challenging. This is especially true in an age of the nation-state, which tends to conceal difference under a homogenizing state project.” At times, the nation seems to be synonymous with culture, at other times, ethnicity (which he is careful to differentiate from “race”). While still ambiguous, the heart of his definition of nation is “properly understood . . . a particular people with ties of affection that bind them to each other and their place of dwelling.” Wolfe never clearly articulates how America – a place with wildly different cultures across the span of its geographical territory – is a nation in this sense, which seems important for a book with an outline of America on the cover. My concern is that without more specificity, his emphasis on ethnicity – while not identical to race, is often parallel to it – is liable to misinterpretation and abuse.

​Another critique I have of Wolfe’s work is its stunted ecclesiology. The nations are to be discipled (Matt 28:19), but for Wolfe that seems to be strictly achieved civilly and removes the church from the equation.

I am also concerned with the power Wolfe would ascribe the civil magistrate over the church. He says, “a godly civil magistrate will have competence to decide on what pertains to mere Christian orthodoxy.” He “can eliminate error in the church, for it exists in the church in appearance only.” His point is that an error in the church is not actually instituted by Christ, so the civil magistrate may correct the error. I fail to see how this control over the church would be regulated and think it is ripe for abuse.


​A question left unanswered in the book was, “How can we apply this in America?” The last section, entitled, “What Now?” is peculiar because it doesn’t exactly offer a way forward for Americans Christians to practically apply the points made in the book. Instead, it reads more like a rant “to own the libs” that was not integrally tied to the main points of his argument. It was a low point of the book, and I thought an unfortunate way to end an otherwise serious work. The section prior attempted to prove historically that a Christian nationalist project was not against the founders’ intentions. Although an entirely neutral state may not have been the founders’ vision, the “theocratic Caesarism” that Wolfe advocates certainly opposes the ideals of the American founding. Wolfe never explains how his vision of Christian nationalism might be achieved in America.


Conclusion:
This is a serious work that differentiates itself from popular forms of Christian nationalism. For example, Wolfe critiques the placement of flags in church sanctuaries.
Wolfe’s book has set the groundwork for, and sparked a much needed discussion on what Christianity’s influence in politics should look like. The quietism (or pacifistic pietism) of the past few decades has not worked. We need a strong theological framework to guide laypeople and ministers to interact in the public sphere. Wolfe’s book will not be the definitive answer, and it has substantial problems, but it is a necessary start.

[Bradley Plausse · Rating 1 out of 5]

Reading this brought a chapter of my life to a final close. I worked for Canon at the height of their credibility - while the rest of the country was losing their collective minds over COVID. Just a few years later, they release this. The epilogue was the gift that kept on giving.

[Jacob Aitken · Rating 2 out of 5]

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism. Moscow, ID: Canon Press, 2022.

The Good, the Bad, and the Gaffes

In 2005, when I was a young seminarian, I wrote several arguments proving, or so I thought, that society should be modeled after what I understood God’s law to be. They were very logical arguments. Nobody was convinced, and for the longest time I could never figure out why. It was not until I read Edmund Burke, Russell Kirk, and Yoram Hazony that I understood: men do not exist in abstract rational worlds. They exist in concrete situations that are mediated through historical experience.

We need to acknowledge the areas where Wolfe is correct. He knows Reformed scholastic history better than the entire generation of theonomists who came before him. Indeed, as he surveyed Reformed history on politics, I actually found it quite refreshing. Gone were the cliches like “By what standard?” In place, rather, were careful distinctions regarding the image of God. Charity obliges us to commend Wolfe on this point. Indeed, when we disagree with Wolfe on many points, and some of them are quite substantial, we must not overreact in such a way that we reject the Reformed teaching on natural law.

Moreover, to be fair, we must acknowledge that the Reformed tradition, like the rest of Christendom, was theocratic. Those of us arguing for some form of two kingdoms theology have never denied that point. We simply deny that Jesus wanted the apostles to set up an earthly theocracy. We will come back to this point later.

In truth, Wolfe raises a valid point that summarizes my objection to him: it might be permissible (I speak hypothetically) for the magistrate to punish heresy, but it is not always prudent. In today’s climate, it would certainly do more harm than good. He would counter that heresy harms the soul and possibly the commonwealth. Maybe it does, but it would actually be a greater harm to Christians if they tried to implement such laws now. Here is a case in point: Trump’s election secured for Christians key Supreme Court justices, leading to the reversal of Roe v. Wade. That is certainly good, but it came at a cost: electoral defeats and a backlash against Christians in the public realm. Was the cost worth it? I think it was, but it was also a high cost. At this point in our history, enacting religious penalties would be too high to pay.

Definitions

Wolfe defines Christian nationalism as “the totality of national action, consisting of civil laws and social customs, conducted by a nation as a nation, in order to procure for itself both earthly and heavenly good (Wolfe 9). Nationalism is the “totality of national action, consisting of civil laws and social customs, conducted by the nation as a nation, in order to procure for itself both earthly and heavenly good” (10). These definitions, except for some minor quibbles on nationalism, will serve adequately enough for the review.

This leads to the first problem: if nationalism as such always seeks, among other things, its heavenly end, then what do we make of clearly non-Christian nations? It is hard to imagine they are seeking a heavenly end, yet they are legitimate nations as such. With Wolfe I agree that Genesis 10 speaks of nations as legitimate entities, not as fodder for a future globalism. But Wolfe makes clear that these are not “complete nations,” since they lack Christ as the true end (15). This simply will not do. As the Westminster Confession makes clear, being a pagan or an idolater does not negate a ruler’s status as a legitimate ruler. By extension, neither does a nation’s lack of Christian confession negate its full standing as a nation.


Before the Fall

Wolfe grounds his argument for civil society by an extended discussion of what society would have looked like before the Fall. I really do not know what to make of this. I grant that his arguments have some merit, but I cannot persuade myself that it is all that relevant. For one, we simply do not know what would have been the case had Adam never sinned. It is quite possible it would have looked the way Wolfe describes.

There is another problem. It is the legacy of Enlightenment liberalism, not biblical conservatism, to begin with abstract notions of how society should be governed by universal Reason. To be sure, Wolfe would say, and with some justification, that he is not advocating Enlightenment rationalism. Nonetheless, he begins with a narrative of how unfallen man would have ordered society according to rational and abstract principles. It is all speculation. That is why his proposal, at least in form, is very similar to the Enlightenment. Our conservative fathers like Edmund Burke were far wiser, for even if Universal Reason exists in the abstract, we do not exist in the abstract. As Burke notes, “I never govern myself, no rational man ever did govern himself, by abstractions and universals.” The reasons are quite obvious: we face an infinite number of circumstances. That does not mean that reason and truth depend on circumstances–far from it. It should caution us, however, not to legislate what society should be like before society even exists.

None of these cautions deters Wolfe, for he even goes so far to say that these unfallen communities “would have been culturally distinct, since they would have been at least somewhat separated from others and would have had their own way of life and culture” (21). This might have been true, but who could know that?

Such speculation, while misguided perhaps, is not entirely foreign from the Christian tradition. Wolfe’s inferences, however, are. He notes that “Threats from one’s fellow man must be kept in consideration, for all were capable of sinning in ways other than the tree of knowledge of good and evil” (74). This is where speculation got completely out of hand. It is one thing to speculate on whether man would have needed civil government before the fall (I am agnostic on the issue). It is another to think about self-defense classes before the fall. Indeed, Wolfe says there would need to be “martial virtues” (75).

The Good

Even though Wolfe’s speculations on pre-fall man are fundamentally misguided, his discussion on man’s natural and supernatural gifts is quite good, drawing heavily upon Franciscus Junius, among others. He begins with Calvin, noting that “natural gifts were corrupted…and supernatural gifts withdrawn” (82; cf. Calvin, Institutes 2.2.12).

I also commend Wolfe for his criticism of some over-eager transformationalist schools. Adam’s task was not to bring heaven to earth. Adam’s task might have been to “order this world to the next,” however one might want to phrase that.

Wolfe does a fine job rebutting the numerous claims to have “a gospel politics.” He rightly points out that those who talk of “gospel politics” rarely have a coherent principle ordering it. He asks, “By what principle do they permit the realization of some aspects of glory and not others? Is marriage now rescinded because there is no marriage in the state of glory” (107).

The Bad

On one level I can grant his nature-grace distinction, especially as it relates to individual men. In fact, I think the loss of that distinction, especially among the students of Abraham Kuyper, has been disastrous in the 20th century. However, I do not think it works very well when applied to nations. For example, Wolfe rightly says that the secular–the lower end–serves the sacred–the higher end (27). In the very next paragraph he reverses course, saying a nation, presumably the lower end, can stop the flow of Christian immigrants into its own country. To be sure, I am not saying Wolfe is necessarily wrong on immigration, but he has “painted himself into a corner.” If we have a higher duty to “the household of faith,” then it is not clear how the lower order can stop that.

There is one footnote in the chapter (n.16) that references the kinist anthology by Thomas Achord and Darrell Dow, Who is My Neighbor. Even though I do not have high expectations for Canon Press, I am stunned that they missed this. Actually, I am not.

He admits “the idea of a nation is notoriously difficult to define, and identifying true nations is equally challenging” (134). I grant there is some ambiguity in the term, but it is not as difficult as one makes it out to be. Nations are primarily delineated by language and place, understanding that both terms can shift over time. England and America share the same language but not the same place; therefore, they are two different nations. That is what is missing in Wolfe’s thesis. He even goes so far as to refuse to discuss it, saying his interest “is not to discuss and identify nations and nationhood.” That is precisely what his interest should be. What good is a case for Christian nationalism if one cannot identify a nation? He does give a definition earlier in the book. Why does he not use that definition here? For all of his insights elsewhere, he fails at the most crucial point.

He does go on to discuss nations, however. He “uses the terms ethnicity and nation almost synonymously” (135). Not even the father of nationalism, the German Romantic Johann Herder, used this exclusive definition. Herder thought language was more primary than ethnicity. Wolfe, by contrast, notes that “no nation is composed of two or more ethnicities.” I do not think Wolfe himself is a racist, but it is not hard to imagine why some would come to that conclusion. Logically speaking, Wolfe’s “nation” should oppose immigrants of a different ethnicity, by and large.

He doubles down, noting “Blood relations matter for your ethnicity, because your kind have belonged to this people and this land–to this nation in this place–so they bind you to that people and that place, creating a common volkesgeist” (139). I am going to go out on a limb and say it probably is not a good idea to speak of a “volkesgeist” in the context of “soil and blood.” There is something about that connection, something to do with the twentieth century, that does not sit right with me. In any case, I do not have blood relations with 99.99% of white people in America, so I am not sure what that argument actually proves.

Wolfe does admit later on that language plays a part in the nation. Language “particularizes” the social bond, ruling out any sort of common humanity as the basis of social life. I actually agree, but it is odd for Wolfe to make that claim, since his whole foundation rests upon a common prelapsarian humanity.

To be fair, Wolfe says he rejects “ethno-states” as nations (163). That is good to hear, though I do not know how he can say that and call for blood relations, ethnicity, and the volkesgeist. He ends this chapter with a brief definition of nationalism (something he probably should have done at the beginning of the chapter)--a nation acting as a nation for its national good. As I have said before, this is a very inadequate definition, if only because he is using the term to define the term.

The Gaffes

Some of Wolfe’s problems arise from bad wording. As almost every single reviewer has pointed out, Wolfe admits “he is not a biblical scholar or theologian” (16). I understand what he is saying. He means this book focuses on political methodology rather than bible verses. That is perfectly acceptable; he just said it very badly. It does raise a more substantial point, though: as he simply assumes the Reformed tradition without argument, there is no reason for someone outside that tradition to accept Wolfe’s claims. He could simply object: “that is not my position and you have given me no reason to think I should accept it.”

Wolfe speaks of the anti-Western Westerner as reveling in his loss of identity; for such a man “it is euphoric to him; his own degradation is thrilling. This is his psycho-sexual ethno-masochism, the most pernicious illness of the Western mind” (169). When I read this I asked myself: “Is this paragraph really necessary?”

The Case Restated

The second part of the book seeks to justify the “Prince’s” ordering the state along heavenly lines. For Wolfe, Christian nationalism aims to “order the nation to the things of God–subordinating the secular to the sacred in order to orient it to the sacred” (104). This line of thought is not completely foreign to the Reformed tradition. I am going to suggest there is a good reason why it does not work today. My argument is that the distinction between ordering the outward things and inward things, the former being acceptable for the Prince, breaks down. There is another problem: Wolfe operates under the older medieval assumption of the corpus christianum, society as the Christian people. This distinction allowed the magistrate to make external laws for the church, since he had the legitimate right to order the people’s interests, and as those interests overlapped with what was commonly known as the church, he could order both.

There is an obvious problem with the above scenario: despite all protestations, it mixes the church with the state. This does not even work with Wolfe’s own position, as he holds to some form of two kingdoms. I can grant, at least in theory, his distinction between the externals of the church, what the Reformed historically called “circa sacra,” and the things proper to the clergy. What I cannot grant is the distinction of two kingdoms and the corpus christianum. If all society is the body of Christ, then it does not make any sense to speak of two kingdoms.

Conclusion

Wolfe’s position could have worked, had other historical and social factors obtained. In order for it to work in practice, he needs something like the Royal Settlement in Anglicanism. Of course, Wolfe is a Presbyterian, so that option is off the table. While we acknowledge that Wolef made a number of good insights regarding the image of God and the errors of transformationalism, we must conclude that he failed to make his case.

[Jordan Howe · Rating 3 out of 5]

Meh.

[Bob O'Bannon · Rating 3 out of 5]

While some of this book is troubling, I’m not sure it’s as bad as some have feared. Wolfe’s goal is rather simple and uncontroversial — to “reinvigorate Christendom in the west” (p.119). He takes almost 500 pages to make the case, and with varying degrees of success.

Here are some observations that might mitigate fears about Wolfe’s argument:
* nationalism as defined in this book is not ethnocentrism but simply the right of a nation to seek its own good (p.11), to take steps to avoid its “own dispossession” (p.169), which is surely something every nation instinctively desires (aside maybe from some progressives in the USA).
* government has no power to bring anyone to saving faith and it should not use coercion for that purpose (p.15).
* Wolfe rejects theonomy (p.30): “Mosaic law, taken as a whole, is not binding on all nations, even Christian nations.” (p.266).
* Wolfe is clear that foreigners are not to be considered “bad, evil, barbarous or inferior in any way” (p.168), and that “no one possesses an inherent, natural superiority in relation to other men…” (p.281), so claims that Wolfe is a racist are unfounded.
* Although America has a unique founding, it should not be regarded as God’s appointed nation “by some special divine command or by exclusive divine favor.” (p.176).

What makes me sympathetic to Wolfe’s argument is the fantasy idea of a neutral government that is so widely assumed in our nation today. In fact, our current government has “evolved into a sort of pagan nationalism, in which bizarre moralities and rites are imposed upon all areas of life.” (p.36). “The absence of cultural Christianity has brought hostility, not religious neutrality.” (p.227). “Experience over the last decades has made evident that there are two options: Christian nationalism, or pagan nationalism.” (p.381).

The notion that today we live under a kind of pagan nationalism might seem like an overstatement, but this only proves the reality of the “soft power of liberalism” (p.339) that has gutted our culture of Christian influence by simply allowing people to “drift along with the flow of modernity.” (p.340) “A thousand nudges seemingly led Christians, largely willingly or at best begrudgingly, to confine their religion to churches, private religion, and surrender the public to hostile secularization.” (p.341).

Readers traumatized by Wolfe’s defense of revolution (ch.8) seem to forget that our nation owes its existence to revolution, and those worried about theocracy would do well to read the chapter on the foundation of American freedom (ch.10), where we are reminded of Alexis de Tocqueville’s observation of early America: “in the United States, the influence of religion is not confined to the manners, but it extends to the intelligence of the people . . . Christianity, therefore, reigns without any obstacle, by universal consent.” (p.397). I imagine the average person in early colonial America would be shocked that there would be any debate at all around the idea of a Christian nation.

So far, I’m with Wolfe, but then there are the many questions the book raises and doesn’t answer. Such as: How does a nation define what qualifies as heretical teaching, and who makes that decision? (p.34). Theologically, what kind of “Christian nation” does Wolfe have in mind – Protestant? Catholic? Pentecostal? How does Wolfe’s reservations about immigration (p.166) square with Scripture’s affirmation of ethnic diversity among God’s people? By what theological standard should the “Christian prince” protect the church from heretics? (p.312). Has “national self preservation” (p.337) really been commanded by God”? Where? Do we really want to “exclude from the public square” those who are deemed “harmful? (p.383). Who makes that decision, and how is that different than what today's cancel culture demands from those dissenting from progressive orthodoxy? (This last point is what justifies some of the criticisms that Wolfe is actually advancing a right-wing version of wokeness.)

The book covers a lot of territory. Readers can find the ammunition they need to argue for it or against it. It depends largely on shaky speculation about the role of government in an unfallen world. There is no index, and it could definitely be much shorter. But it raises important questions that Christians need to think about in our current cultural moment, and for that reason I’m glad I read it, even though I will be slow to recommend it.

[Allie · Rating 1 out of 5]

No. No. No. No. Whatbthe fuck. What the fuckkkkkkk. The epilogue is riddled with racist dogwhistles and explicit homophobia and transphobia. The entirety of the book labels the US, oh i’m sorry, “America,” as belonging to a Christian “us” taken over by the “liberal” “imperialist” “other” who is basically a “foreigner” and using “conservative narratives” to take over the country that BELONGS to Christian’s. What the fuck. This book is batshit crazy. The historical chapters don’t say anything new: most of early America was protestant, and had to have freedom for their different sects, and the first amendment was more from a protestant perspective than secular. Mostly, Wolfe just appeals to the fact that the Mathers (who you may know from the Salem Witch Trials) and the founding fathers and xyz older American guys were protestant and believed in the value of a protestant country. Okay, historically the US was protestant. And?? Why should we be now??

Jesus christ. I hated this more than I hated reading Colleen Hoover—both operating on odd presuppositions about American culture and omitting significant details about why we should cheer for what they want us to cheer for.

Fuck you, Stephen Wolfe. I’ll say that with my whole chest, to your face, even. Your “research” is secondary sources of fellow Christian nationalists, not actual primary source analysis of early US history. The other claims are so batshit I don’t even know where to start.

[Gary Reger · Rating 2 out of 5]

The audience for Stephen Wolfe's The Case for Christian Nationalism is people who are hard core evangelical Protestants who believe in the triune God (Father, Son, and Holy Ghost) as the only deity and that Christianity is the only true religion. Anyone who doesn't hold these beliefs--and many other views--will simply reject Wolfe's claims. Even believers who are critically inclined may find his arguments less than convincing, as many are burdened by poor reasoning and depend on unexamined presuppositions.

Wolfe reveals his own hopes for a Christian nation which imposes rules that make Christianity in his shape the official religion of the state. And what Wolfe wants he lays out clearly in an "Epilogue: Now What?" (pp. 433-475) which rests on patriarchal rule by men over women and children, under a Christian Prince who runs the state. (He also makes the utterly absurd claim that we live under a gynocracy.)

Wolfe reviles modernism and the basic premises of current American civil society. His vision will revolt anyone who believes in religious liberty. His book is well worth reading to get a clear sense of what the theocratic autocrats would do if they seized secular power. It's not a pretty picture.

[John Houston · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book truly made me feel the most patriotic I have ever felt in my life. The absolute hatred that the elites have for the foundation of our country has worked its way into all of us to some extent to forget the natural inclination to love one’s own people and nation. Time would fail to write a full review on this, but that is the general consensus for me. I love America, and I freaking love C2K theology. God bless Stephen Wolfe.

[Patrick · Rating 1 out of 5]

Nothing discernibly Christian or scriptural in the book at all. A lot of scripture (mis)quoted; a lot of racism and nationalism and tribalism proclaimed. No gospel. No good news. All law, but law that seems to be written to benefit Mr. Wolfe and his band of followers, not anyone who might differ from their r@pe of the Bible.

[Cody Justice · Rating 5 out of 5]

Must-read masterpiece.

[Jon Sheets · Rating 2 out of 5]

Some good points as a conversation starter, which is the stated point of the book. Overall an inconsistent case made from my point of view.

[Peter Bradley · Rating 3 out of 5]

The Case for Christian Nationalism by Stephen Wolfe

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Christian Nationalism is the current "Emmanuel Goldstein" of the Left. Christian Nationalists (CNs) are "white supremacists," and they are everywhere. All conservative Christians merit the label of CN.

This perplexes me because I am a conservative Catholic, which some consider "Christian," I have been labeled a CN tag, and I've never met a CN. Apparently, the Left thinks that someone who is both Christian and patriotic is, for that reason, a CN. If that's the case, then guilty as charged.

However, this book shows that this is not the case. I decided to read this book to see if there is something more to this CN phenomenon.

Author Stephen Wolfe identifies himself as CN. His version of Christianity is the Reformed Christian - i.e., Calvinist/Presbyterian - variety. This book shows that Leftism is producing a reaction that is not healthy for our body politic, albeit this particular reaction is really castles in the air unhinged from reality. It's aspirational, not practical.

The book starts out with some solid and very good points. Points, incidentally, that agree with St. Thomas Aquinas's explanation of love in the Summa Theologica. Namely, human beings are ordered to love. We are naturally ordered to love those closest to us, our family, our neighbors, our community, our nation, in that order. This is a natural and good thing since we spend most of our time with those closest to us. A love that ignores those who are closest to us in favor of those distant is inhuman and uncharitable.

It seems to me that it is akin to the love of Communists who love the working class in the abstract and hate the individual working man. It is worth quoting Eugen Lyons on this point:

"The recognition of this fact enabled me to solve (or so I thought) the most disturbing of the paradoxes of Soviet power: the deification of the Proletariat in the abstract - on posters and postage stamps, in official theses and official literature - while the flesh-and-blood working masses were treated most cavalierly. The communist functionary who worships the Proletariat as a class and spits on the self-seeking, wretched specimens of the class whom he handles in everyday life is not necessarily a fraud. On the contrary, his contempt for Ivan Ivanovich may be a measure of his respect for the Ivan lvanovich-to-be. The selfish, stubbornly unappreciative people whom he must whip into the shape of his vision seem to him an affront to the idealized Proletarian for whom he went to tsarist prisons, for whom he fought civil wars. Workers who achieve power cannot be expected to idealize other workers as romantic upper-class people do, they know the creatures too intimately."

Eugene Lyons, Assignment in Utopia, p. 326.

Love should be concrete, not abstract.

Wolfe concludes that there is nothing wrong with "nationalism" in the sense of "love of one's country," which is also called patriotism.

He jumps the shark in my opinion when he starts defining what he means by "one's country." In this part of the book he begins to abstract like a Bolshevik.

For Wolfe, America is a Christian country. It was founded as a Christian country. It is still a majority Christian. So far so good as a historical matter.

However, he then defines Americans as Christians. Only Christians can be Americans.

Previously, he had explained his Christian political theory as involving Christians exercising "dominion." Adam was given dominion over the world. Christ restored his followers to the status of Adam. Therefore, Christians have the same authority and dominion as Adam.

Leftists often prattle about "Dominionists." This may be what they are talking about.

Having identified Christians as restored in Christ to the status of Adam in exercising "dominion," Wolfe argues that Christians should not be afraid of forthrightly exercising dominion in a Christian country.

Where does this leave non-Christians? The answer is "second class citizens" without political power:

"But what about consent? Would not Christians have to disregard the non-Christian withholding of consent? They likely would. But no one and no group can withhold consent such that they effectively deny the establishment of a properly constituted commonwealth. None can withhold consent in order to prevent the establishment of true justice. Can a group of people withhold consent to prevent laws against murder? We would find this unacceptable and disregard their lack of consent. But if we would disregard them in the case of murder, why not for a group’s disregard for the highest good and the things of God? If we can disregard in the name of lesser goods, then certainly we can disregard in the name of the highest good. Therefore, if a Christian minority can constitute a secure commonwealth for true justice and the complete good, then they can disregard the withholding of consent by non-Christians. Non-Christians living among us are entitled to justice, peace, and safety, but they are not entitled to political equality, nor do they have a right to deny the people of God their right to order civil institutions to God and to their complete good.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 346). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

What Wolfe is trying to recreate is the kind of state that existed in Holland in the late 17th century. Holland had a reputation for tolerance, apart from Catholics and Unitarians. He expressly argues that there would be a "Christian" - which is to say Protestant - magistrate who would rule in an enlightened biblical way, which should allow for "religious tolerance":

"Indeed, the unfolding of Protestant principles—not Enlightenment or Roman Catholic “doctrinal development”—is what led Americans to affirm religious liberty in the 18th century, which I demonstrate in the next chapter. The point here is that Protestant magistrates ruling a Protestant people have principled flexibility when faced with religious diversity.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 375). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

Wolfe's Christian Nationalism is, not surprisingly, an expressly Protestant Nationalism. Throughout the book he acknowledges that he is appealing to Protestants, but he does not discuss the implications for Christians-who-are-not Protestants. For example:

"Many readers may by now be frustrated that I have not mentioned the issue of baptism. My hope is that my arguments so far have appealed to a pan-Protestant audience.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 217). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

And:

"Protestant harmony amid diversity does not require disestablishment. But granting religious liberty to all orthodox Christians, if deemed suitable, would effectively end dissension, as I’ve defined it, and create a sort of pan-Protestant civil society. This is precisely what I hope for future arrangements in North America. Still, there are times when establishment is necessary and good.49

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (pp. 394-395). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

That last paragraph is ambiguous. It seems that Protestantism will be established, i.e., state-supported, but it isn't clear whether non-Protestant churches will be tolerated but not established or not tolerated at all.

Wolfe tries to finesse his pan-Protestantism by making disagreements between Protestants something that concerns only secondary issues:

"An established church that is a true church, though erroneous on something secondary, is better for a people than having an embattled church or no church at all.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 379). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

Wolfe offers many observations that suggest he is thinking about a real return to the era of the Wars of Religion. For example Wolfe has some lengthy discussions about the suppression of heresy. Wolfe explains that religious belief cannot be compelled because human beings are free in their conscience, but their heretical public acts can be punished because of the "harm" such actions - speech, worship, persuasion - do to others. Wolfe admonishes:

"False belief itself must never be the basis of civil punishment.8 False religion externalized is the only principled object of punishment.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 357). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

The punishment can be quite extreme:

"This is a remedy to stop the “poison,” as Calvin said. Turretin cites a great number of Reformed theologians who supported capital punishment for arch-heretics: Zanchi, Becanus, Bullinger, Beza, Franciscus Junius, Danaeus, Gerhard, Bucer, and Melanchthon.46 This is not to say that capital punishment is the necessary, sole, or desired punishment. Banishment and long-term imprisonment may suffice as well. And perhaps a Christian people may consider some heretics harmless, or they might conclude that suppressing heresy is, in at least some cases, more harmful than the heresy itself. The crucial point here is that civil action against heretics is justified in principle but the practice of it requires considerable discernment, care, gentleness, and prudence.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 391). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

Wolfe attempts to construct a fire wall against the charge of persecution by this argument and suggestion:

In our time, the suppression of false religion is not an end in itself but a means and a matter of prudence; and such actions are prudent only if they conduce concretely to the good of the church. The church is ordinarily not well served by inciting powerful and destructive rage against it.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (pp. 373-374). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

Wolfe's approach unwittingly mirrors that of the Nazis who also thought that they were preserving religious liberty by allowing churches to do what they wanted in their churches but punishing them sternly if they brought that Christian stuff into the public square. In that regard, it is also the policy approach that Obama sought to follow during his administration.

Like the Nazis, and maybe Obama, Wolfe thinks that those who are not "orthodox Protestants" can't complain if they have access to the means of grace through their own churches:

"My point is that if it were false, its establishment would not separate Baptists from the means of grace. Ensuring equal access to the administration of grace mitigates the consequences of established error. Thus, an established church that is in error on a secondary matter is dangerous to Christian brethren only if that establishment denies dissenting believers access to the means of grace.28 Further mitigation might include extending toleration to dissenting Christians, allowing them to erect their own churches.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 378). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

Wolfe started with the idea that it is natural to love the most those who one is physically close to. Somehow this morphed into loving those who one is closest to and who share one's beliefs. Wolfe sawed through the "share one's belief," however, by arguing that the Protestant state has no obligation to take in foreign Protestants who have a different culture and speak a different language, which would stress the culture.

Then, weirdly, Wolfe saws through the Thomistic point that natural love is directed at those who one is closest physically to by gratuitously tossing in an "ethnic" qualifier:

"To be sure, I am not saying that ethnic majorities today should work to rescind citizenship from ethnic minorities, though perhaps in some cases amicable ethnic separation along political lines is mutually desired.

Wolfe, Stephen. The Case for Christian Nationalism (p. 149). Canon Press. Kindle Edition.

So, apparently, Protestant Nationalism may exclude Protestants in the community who are of different skin color or have different ancestry.

This is pretty much an impeachment of the first part - the good part - of the book since it is obvious that what Wolfe is doing here is not about naturally loving that one is physically closest to, but dividing up that community along religious and ethnic lines. Wolfe commits the same fallacy that Communists commit; he abstracts the people he should be loving rather than loving the concrete individuals who are in front of him.

Is there anyone who doesn't recognize the obvious folly of such an approach? Worse, it denies the natural emotion of charity we have to those who are in our community. Pluralism in a community bound together by a shared love of nation works. It took a long time for us to realize this fact. According to Rodney Stark, the first interfaith prayer assembly occurred in New York in the late 19th century after a tragic sinking of a ferry. Different faiths in a community have learned to work together and to adopt a shared civic religion while keeping our separate faiths alive. Further, the competition of different religions has strengthened all faiths in America. America does not have a dying religious economy because pluralism fosters healthy competition.

It is clear that Wolfe is reacting to the very real threat posed by secular culture. Secular culture is at war with religion. Secular culture seeks to do to all religions what Wolfe proposes to do for non-Protestants, namely drive faith in doors into different churches and nail the door shut. The threat is real.

But the answer is obviously not to start a war of Protestants against Catholics, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, etc. The answer is pluralism, which is the real tradition that developed in Protestant North America.

[ThePrill · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was nowhere near as bad as some outlets have made it out to be, and nowhere near as good as some other outlets have. Wolfe is, at times, incredibly engaging, and other times slogging. He has resonating and bizarre points littered throughout, but I would agree with about 75% of what he says in here. There are no hints of kinism, as some have accused, even saying at one points that 'diversity of nations is not a product of the fall but of human nature' and at another point that 'The fall introduced the abuse of social relations and malice towards ethnic difference', the abuse of which grace corrects.

He believes that a Christian nation ought to have an augmented government, which I disagree with, and I can't quite see how he comes to that conclusion. It's very clear that he's coming at the Reformed tradition from an outside perspective, and more often his Thomistic inclinations come through and supersede his attempts at Reformed perspective. He further concludes that two-kingdom theology and paedobaptistic practice are most consistent with Reformed tradition, though he allows that Baptists may be able to fall in, though with more difficulty. His chapter on the Christian prince was difficult to contend with, maybe just a bit too inconceivable for the current governmental framework of the world.

The only place where I believed he was firmly in the wrong is where he discusses persecution of Baptists in the American colonies, justifying it by saying that the persecution was justified due to the civil aspects of Baptists rejecting the paedobaptist framework. Currently, I am conducting a great deal of research on this subject due to my thesis topic, and Wolfe is just incorrect on this. He uses one example of a paedobaptist granting hypothetical leniency to Baptists when an infant baptism took place to say that the paedobaptists were far more gracious than their credobaptist counterparts. He even quotes a source I've looked at in depth, completely sidestepping that author's other comments in that book on the relentless fining, jailing, and otherwise persecution of Baptists until the Bill of Rights was published.

Coming back to edit because I went back to my research and Wolfe is even more wrong than I had admitted before. Quote 'These evils cleaved so close to the first fathers of the Massachusetts, as to move them to imprison, whip and banish men, only for denying infant baptism, and refusing to join in worship that was supported by violent methods', the evils being some measure of the spirit of Rome that the reformers were descended from (Isaac Backus, 'An appeal to the public...', 1773).

Otherwise, I am pleasantly surprised at this book. Wolfe is academic and verbose at times, but he is obviously clever and has thought on this subject with some depth. I would recommend, even just on the premise of understanding what he really believes, rather than third-party conjecture or projection.

[Travis Wise · Rating 2 out of 5]

One of a recent spate of books defending Christian Nationalism against the bugaboo charges brought on by haters, only to prove that most of those bugaboo charges were pretty accurate. Definitely nationalistic, but the Christian part is dubious (at least if, by Christian, we mean having the mind of Christ (I think that’s what Paul meant in Phil 2:5-11?)). Some bullets, shotgun style:

1. Wolfe defends Christian Nationalism on the basis of “political theory” (16). Keeping the book a work of “theory” is convenient, because it allows him to avoid Biblical exegesis (see bullet 2) AND historical example. Instead, Wolfe relies almost exclusively on 16th and 17th century Protestant theologians trying to recraft a new basis for the Christian Nation after the Catholic trial runs of the medieval period fell into their own graves. (Spoiler alert: the Protestant versions did no better. Not only did they derail quicker than in Catholic times, but the constant, bloody, religious Christian vs Christian wars of the 17th c. hyper fueled the Enlightened secularist movements that Christians inveigh against today). Christian nationalism isn’t a new theory devoid of historical examples—though it is devoid of any successful examples that don’t consume themselves and leave something worse in their wake—so why not use them? Reminds me of the Communist who keeps pleading with you that Communism can work (in theory!), and the problem is that no one has implemented it correctly… yet.
2. Because it is a work of “political theory,” Wolfe admits “I make little effort to exegete biblical text” (16). Fine if we’re talking of un-modified nationalism, but strange for a sola scriptura professing Protestant to make this move with a “Christian” version of it. So yes, no real interactions with Jesus’s not-from-this-world kingdom (John 18:36), other than to shoo that ethic to the church realm—separate and apart from how we do things in the political realm; and Paul’s “I count everything as loss…. [and] dung” (within which he pointedly counts a Jewish nationalism that he doesn’t intend to replace with an equivalent Christian version) is likely nowhere on Wolfe’s radar. Maybe the oddest thing is Wolfe playing the prelapsarian what-if game, and then basing a large part of his argument on it: “Would nations have existed in a pre-fall world?” (55)—absolutely! (And, the argument goes, if nations would have existed in Adam’s day (if he hadn’t sinned, of course), and if they would have needed to be nationalistic (he takes as a given), then nationalism is a necessary good in our world as well). Very odd—to base the foundation of the remaining 400 pages on an unprovable hypothetical. (In fact, should I say he actually bases his argument on a DISproven hypothetical?? Nations, separation of tongues, etc. are laid out a few chapters later in Genesis 11 at Babel… they’re very clearly—chronologically and theologically—post-fall, not ideal (the actual result of a curse), and later given a solution in the church or Acts 2).
3. Critics blast Christian Nationalism as kooky and worse; any hopes of this book lifting the movement above those criticisms is dashed from the halfway mark onward. Wolfe advocates for a “Christian prince” (277), or a “theocratic Caesarism” (279), in which the Christian executive works in tandem—but often seemingly over church officials (arghh… haven’t we seen this song and dance? E.g. the centuries of dead end Papacy vs Holy Roman Emperor struggles) to eradicate blasphemy, idolatry, and heresy (I fear all the Christians who a John McArthur type might eradicate on the heresy front). The Prince is no biblical office (remember, we aren’t talking Bible here), yet “the Prince holds the most excellent office, exceeding even that of the church minister, for it is most like God” (286)… uh, ok.
4. But the most alarming bit is saved for the subsequent chapter—“The Right to Revolution” (325)—in which Wolfe is ready to defend more than just a theoretical Christian Nationalism: “Here I will justify violent revolution” (326). To be fair, at least Wolfe places some constraints—only in opposition to tyranny is it that “such revolutions can be just” (329). But, problematically (and predictably), he goes on to define tyranny so loosely that Christians don’t just get to shout “tyranny!” when a tyrant attempts to “destroy true religion“ (338), but they can also decry “tyranny” in response to “too much immigration and bad immigration policies” (348) because even these “can be tyrannical and create tyrannical conditions” (348). Again, unsurprisingly and foreseeable, Wolfe includes the present state of America within his XXL umbrella of tyranny—“how is this not tyranny?…. This certainly is tyranny, though there isn’t, at first glance, a clear tyrant…. The regime is the tyrant” (345). Conclusion? If Christians are justified in violent revolution against tyrants, and if we are currently under a tyrannical regime… well you can connect the dots.
5. (An aside: In all of this, when the state becomes the end-all-be-all that justifies any types of means for Christian capture (if violent revolution is on the table, what isn’t??), even ones that Jesus specifically condemns and lives in ostensible contrast to—it strikes me how low a view Wolfe keeps of the church. Instead of the church as the “holy nation” of God (1 Peter 2:9), the exclusive place of Christians and the rolling stone that topples nations (Dan 2:31-45) (not by being like them, but by being and operating qualitatively different from them), Wolfe downplays the efficacious work of the church unless it has real power within the levers of the state (surely demeaning, not just what Jesus, Paul, Peter, et al. have to say, but the scores of martyrs and their success despite lack of—and often distrust of—power). Ivan Karamazov wasn’t wrong—the church too often tries to mimic the state and conform to it, when it should be the other way around—Wolfe perpetuates this mistake.)
6. At risk of sounding persnickety, writing a 500 page book that you mean others to take seriously and not including an index is like showing up at a job interview with a handwritten resume. (I do take Wolfe seriously, for the record… but an index would’ve helped).
7. The final Epilogue is the oddest—thankfully he saves this screed for the end (Torba & Isker managed to make it their entire book)—“a sort of fragmented conclusion, a series of loosely organized aphorisms” (433). At best, an inveigh against the present culture and a Henrian St. Crispin-esque call to arms; at worst, a shrill whine about an effeminate society that likes to play the victim, all the while he argues that his side is the real oppressed victim. (Alas! A symptom of our extreme polarization in America, in which each side of the aisle—especially the fringes—can objectively claim instances of being victimized, harmed, or trodden on by the other side. But this isn’t oppression; it’s part of our extreme polarization).

Conclusion? If you’re intending to understand a movement in its own words, you could do worse (I know, because I’ve read it… see Torba & Isker). But if you’re looking at the problems Christian face in the present world (hey, I do agree with Wolfe here! They exist in droves!), and wanting an ideological solution out of the wilderness… well, this one ends in a dead end—historically and Biblically… the two things Wolfe avoids.

[Daniel Bouchoc · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really good. As typical, twitter had me expecting lots of blood and gore that I didn't find. Instead, I found it to be a reasonable book.

While reviews rail on his definition of "nation," I thought his description was helpful. When people freak out when Wolfe talks in exclusive terms, his definition has in mind language and geography which insists on exclusivity to a level. That's why God changed the languages in Genesis. If this is true, other factors contribute to embracing the natural national distinctives.

After reading the book, I'm convinced that the starting point of the conversation is: (1) Is the foundation of society the individual or the family, and (2) patriarchy or no patriarchy? If your underlying assumption is "individual" and "no patriarchy" (most of evangelicalism) you will most likely hate the book.

My biggest question in the book is would nations have naturally formed if the fall hadn't happened? Then, does the new covenant change anything? Wolfe rightly begins here, and I'm not sure he convinced me (that nations would have naturally formed). I also have questions about the prince, the covenantal framework and other things. But overall, the book was compelling, and I learned a lot.

[Tim Zornes · Rating 4 out of 5]

The book has a lot of baggage on it. The term "Christian Nationalism" has even more. Overall both get a bad wrap. Was I blown away by the book? Not really. Is this an important book? Yes. Should this subject be talked about more without being thought of as the boogey man? Absolutely.
I teetered between 3 and 4 stars on this review. It's an important book that I don't think deserves the hate it gets, and the arguments laid out are thoughtful and thorough. Up until now, "christian nationalism" has been a poorly defined term. Wolfe has now given a first statement to prevent strawman. Whether his case is the best, or even correct remains to be seen, but it at least opens the dialogue.

[Matheus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Very good book.
After reading this I can assure you most of the criticism it received resulted from not reading the book.

Wolfe shows, with strong arguments, that Christian nationalism is good.
The only issue I have is with the final two chapters that deal specifically with the American context. Reading this in Portugal felt quite boring. Nevertheless the content is interesting.

I believe this is a good book to form a basis for the Christian understanding of politics and can definitely see it as being discussed in the future.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have serious critiques for Wolfe's use of natural law. I address some of these in my book, Seven Statist Sins: The Capital Vices of Civil Government in American Society. Nevertheless, Wolfe's book was generally interesting. I will be releasing a book soon, entitled Love Thy Countryman, that will address some of the topics Wolfe brings up, but from a theonomic perspective.

[Trevor Coen · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is not nearly as controversial as many might think it is. It is also not particularly convincing. I agreed with the main premises of the book, the idea that it would be swell if the leaders of the nation I live in were Christians and governed from a Christian perspective. Wolfe lost Me with his vision for how that should be.

[Elijah Sabbagh · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wolfe is a great writer, and states his arguments clearly in a genuine manner. Definitely one of the best books I have read, and has not only helped me understand the need for politics/government more, but has helped me appreciate being an American. It is good to recover American culture and values prior to World War 2. I am certainly a Christian Nationalist.