As an educated Baby Boomer (but not an American history major), I found much of the narrative informative. For instance, at the pivotal Battle of Kings Mountain, there was only one British officer present who led Loyalist regiments against the Patriots. Throughout the series the Loyalists were presented fairly, as persons who followed their conscience, not as fools or villains, although some, like Colonel Tarlton, were.

George Washington is highlighted as man of tact and courage, indispensable in keeping the poorly supplied Continental Army and its untrained militias together. The series stressed that the American victory ultimately came because the Americans wore the British out, not that they had won many battles.

Washington’s choice of resisting being crowned after the war and retiring to Mt. Vernon, plus his refusal to run for a third term, were shown as pivotal for the democratic development of our nation. We can be especially thankful of this in view of the tragedies and tyrannical governments that followed the 1960s era of independence from French and British colonial governments where insurgent generals often became cruel and long-lasting tyrants.

On the other hand, The American Revolution made a frank presentation of Washington’s involvement in land speculation of Indian-owned territory and his order for the destruction of towns and crops of the Indians in Western New York. The description of that campaign was especially difficult to watch, as it must have been for many of my Baby Boomer contemporaries. We were not normally taught these negative aspects about Washington, even though such things are now routinely taught in practically every American history course. Washington’s role as slave owner was also clearly shown, including how he meticulously administered the return of runaway slaves to their owners at the end of hostilities.

This differs with the traditional versions we Baby Boomers learned as high-school and college students. You can find such a perspective in the video, “The First American” (2015) put out by the Gingrich Foundation and hosted by Newt and Callista Gingrich along with a roster of conservative luminaries. In this presentation, the only reference to Washington’s relationship with slavery was about his will, in which he freed his slaves. Also not mentioned were the campaigns against the Indians. However, to be fair about the latter, some sort of military action was necessary to secure the New York and Pennsylvania fronts from constant Indian raids.

But conservative critics do have real reasons for their claim that Burn’s The American Revolution was partly a “hatchet job” (pun intended). A detailed review by Dan McLaughlin in the National Review, “No, Ken Burns, the United States Is Not an Iroquois Nation” (Nov 22, 2025), cites several historical errors including a big ideological misinterpretation.

Most disturbing was the absence of any description of English constitutional history in forming the opinions and attitudes of the Colonists. All but the most uneducated Colonists were aware that their “rights as Englishmen” were related to the Magna Carta and its interpretive development. They also knew that the English Civil War overthrew and executed one King, and later the “Glorious Revolution,” idolized by most colonists as a triumph of Protestantism, deposed another. All of this makes the colonial attitude towards their rights and their King historically located and understandable. None of this was mentioned in The American Revolution. This reflects a Leftist disdain of constitutional history as “bourgeois” and irrelevant. Indeed, this is the most serious error and omission of the series.

Despite these flaws, I would affirm that The American Revolution reflects in a major degree the biblical perspective of history. That is, that heroes have serious flaws, but are still providentially used by God. In the Bible the real hero of the Old Testament is God, with multiple “supporting characters” who are imperfect and sometimes disreputable. Moses sinned by destroying the tablet of the Ten Commandments. His brother Aaron, first High Priest, lied about his role in forming the golden calf. In fact, the heroes in the Book of Judges, who were chosen by God to save the Israelites from destruction and oppression, had major flaws, as in Samson and his inability to keep his pants up. David, certainly Israel’s best king, is not spared narrative criticism. His adultery and murder of Uriah was exposed by the prophet Nathan and detailed in the book of Second Kings (chapter 12). And although David repented (Psalm 51) he could not avoid the consequences of his sins. These included a rebellion against him by his son Absalom and ultimately a divided kingdom.

In the New Testament, we see Peter denying Christ three times. After Pentecost, when he was indeed strengthened by the Holy Spirit, he slid away from the freedom of the Gospel and cowardly appeased the “men from Jerusalem” (Galatians 2:11-14).

So perhaps the “heroes” of the Bible were mostly like our Washington. He was the Father of a nation, hero in battle, master of fortitude and resiliency in the midst of setbacks But he also had the flaws of accepting slavery even though he knew it was evil, and perpetuating injustices towards the Indians.

The Founding Fathers’ faults have been routinely taught in American schools for decades now. Most recently, The New York Times’ “The 1619 Project” exaggerated these to the point of mendacity. The ill effects of such a negative focus will be felt in American educations for decades to come. It has resulted in a noticeable, some say catastrophic, decline in patriotism among the younger generation. (What will be the outcome of some future conflict with China fought by a demoralized and unpatriotic draftee Army?)

We can never revert to the traditionalist narrative of neglecting the negative aspects of American history – that would be both impossible in a free society, and more importantly, unbiblical. The Trump administration has begun to undo some of the gross exaggerations by attempting to mold educational textbooks and curriculum to a patriotic position. But American education is largely a state issue, and reversing decades of the exaggerated anti-American narrative and “The 1619 Project,” now embedded in the attitudes of teachers, would be an especially difficult task. Saying this, I commend reasonable attempts, as for example those done in Florida and other conservative states to correct the anti-American narrative with more balanced textbooks and curricula.

Since if we are not likely to get back the traditional patriotism of “The Greatest Generation” which lived through and fought the Second World War, what type of patriotism can come from a biblical perspective? That would be a reasonable love of country that cherishes its good points and achievements, but does not hide its sinful mistakes. St. Augustine, who did not use the term patriotism but rather love of one’s own homeland, noted: “So long as we are in this mortal body, we are away from the Lord… and we love, as is natural, our own land where we live for a time” (The City of God XIX.17).

Augustine also noted that our love of country was to be subordinated to our loyalty and love for the Kingdom of God, and he was especially aware of the temptation to glorify early kingdoms to the point of idolatry. This happened significantly in the Roman Empire when its citizens were required to offer incense to the Emperor – and many Christians were martyred for not doing so.

I talked about Mexico and how God must be pleased with how – after conquest and much injustice to the Indians by the Spaniards – Mexico has developed a largely “mestizo” culture, where their races have been blended and are now living harmoniously. Other countries, like Bolivia, have no done so well. I also noted how successive Mexican governments since the Revolution of 1917, which many Mexicans idolize, had begun a tradition of government corruption that was never effectively confronted. This led to the present danger of having Mexico divided into a collection of drug “principalities” where gangster lawlessness prevailed. Their patriotism and prayers for Mexico must continue in spite of an imperfect home country.

Then I called on them to love and respect their present homeland where they had come to live and work. Here they establish businesses without having to bribe the police or government bureaucrats. America fought wars for freedom which destroyed both Fascism and Communism, something to be immensely proud of.

And yes, American culture has many faults. But again, my congregants had the biblical obligation to pray for the American presidents and state governors and its governments. It was especially important to pray for wisdom in the American presidents with their ability to begin and end wars. At the time, several in my congregation already had children in the Armed Forces (that was fifteen years ago, I wonder if any died in Afghanistan or Iraq).

All of which is to say, there can be an Augustinian-Christian approach to patriotism that takes into account mankind’s universal sinfulness in its different national manifestations, but celebrates one’s national achievements.

PR

Chad Tyler Gerber is Assistant Professor of Theology at Walsh University, USA. This book is part of the Ashgate Studies in Philosophy and Theology in Late Antiquity. The series focuses on major theologians from the patristic period as individuals immersed in their own culture. It somewhat uniquely aims to understand the convergence or divergence of pagan and Christian thought on issues addressed by both streams. Accordingly, it hopes to ascertain the true creativity of a particular author and to assess the abiding value of his thought for modern times. This text is serious theology so lay people or even many clergy may not find it easily palatable. However, teachers and advanced students of theology will definitely find it a rewarding and worthwhile read. Augustine is indisputably one of the giants of Christian thought, and Gerber offers a fresh and vigorous look at his pneumatology. That alone is cause for acclaim. Accordingly, those interested in patristic studies in general or in Augustine in particular as well as his pneumatology will benefit from The Spirit of Augustine’s Early Theology. I suspect Pentecostal and Charismatic theologians should be especially interested in the depths of Augustine’s theology of the Holy Spirit.

Gerber explains that “Augustine’s pneumatology remains one of his most distinctive, decisive, and ultimately divisive contributions” to Christian theology. Several questions guide Gerber’s work on this text. How did Augustine’s understanding of the Spirit develop? Why does he identify the Spirit with divine love and cosmic order? What were the sources of his inspiration? Gerber focuses on the early Augustine and his first writings in order to get at the seminal roots of his more mature thought. He is particularly interested in the Platonic influence on Augustine’s pneumatology and in the possibility of his continuing commitment to the divinity of the human soul. (In a brief appendix, Gerber sums up his argument that Augustine rejected the divinity of the soul; but, he suggests Augustine appropriated certain functions of the Plotinian Soul regarding the particularity of the Holy Spirit, especially his idea of the Spirit as the “ordinator” of the world.)

Following the contours of Augustine’s early writings and the locale of their construction, Gerber presents his material in four chapters. After a brief introduction, Chapter One on “Nicea and Neoplatonism” (386-87 AD) examines the influence of Nicea and Neoplatonism on the budding theologian’s early Trinitarian theology as he writes from Milan. Gerber concludes that “at bottom” Augustine’s early Trinitarian theology was “pro-Nicene” and also made use of “Plotinian triadology”. He suggests the early Augustine still had much to learn about both Neoplatonism and pro-Nicene theology; but, he had sufficiently grasped the central tenets of both in such as way as to understand and express his theology in terms that would remain essentially the same throughout his subsequent writings.

In Chapter Two, “The Soul of Plotinus and the Spirit of Nicea,” studying the Cassiciacum Dialogues (386-87 AD), Gerber gets to a more specific pneumatology and also to the delicate relation in Augustine between Plotinus’ philosophy and Nicene theology. Gerber suggests that Augustine’s more or less random invocations on pneumatology at this point nevertheless adhere to a consistent “redemptive-historical perspective in which God the Spirit leads fallen souls to God the Son.” Augustine is apparently influenced here by the New Testament and by patristic writings. The theme of “return” is also evident, and Plotinus appears to have provided “a psychological model of ascent” in which the soul’s salvation involves a vision of “archetypal Truth and a ‘return'” to God as “the ultimate source of all things” (although Romans 11:36 is key). Gerber, however, judges the material too scarce at this point to make sweeping conclusions about specific ideas concerning pneumatology and cosmic order.

Graham A. Cole is professor of biblical and systematic theology at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, IL. He is an ordained Anglican minister, and has written several other books regarding Evangelical theology. This book is an addition to Crossway’s Foundations of Evangelical Theology series, and discusses the role of the Holy Spirit within Evangelical doctrine. Cole is an ardent Trinitarian theologian and offers here one of the most definitive treatments of pneumatology available today. Cole approaches this from a solidly Reformed theology, but he is notably ecumenical in his treatments of contentious issues regarding pneumatology. Authors from both the Eastern and Western traditions are covered, and at the end of each chapter many questions for our generation are raised and various implications to pneumatology are highlighted. So then, the book is practical and well-written. Taking this ecumenical approach allows the reader to gain a better understanding of the differences for him/herself, and thus enables them to become better theologians. The book is thoroughly biblically-based (Cole admits to a high view of Scripture in the introduction, calling it the “norming norm,” whereas tradition, experience and reason are “ruled norms”), and is illuminated by theological reflections on the doctrine of the Holy Spirit. In engaging theology, Cole brings Basil of Caesarea, Augustine, Aquinas, Calvin, Barth and Moltmann to bear on issues of pneumatology.

Cole demonstrates an evidence-based approach to theology within this book in that he engages information bearing on the truth of falsity of a proposition. Cole invokes Bonhoeffer in stating that we must learn to know the Scriptures once again, for they are the basis of our evidence for forming a doctrine of the Spirit. Cole acknowledges four distinct periods of Pneumatological discussion, to which I would a fifth. First, Cole recognizes the Patristic era, which was concerned with the ontology (derivation of, i.e.) the Spirit. Second, Cole recognizes the Medieval period, which saw the schism between the Eastern and Western branches of the church in due part to the doctrine of the Spirit’s ontology. Third, Cole recognizes the Reformation period, in which more emphasis was given to the works of the Spirit over the ontology of the Spirit. Fourth, Cole notes that the Modern period, characterized by Whitefield and Wesley, highlighted the Spirit’s role in regeneration and sanctification. The fifth period, which Cole does not directly indicate but does peripherally allude to, is what I refer to as the Post-modern period, in which pneumatology is beginning to be seen as the avenue to engage a theology of religions (reference Amos Yong’s groundbreaking work in Beyond The Impasse).

In the first part of Cole’s book, he addresses the mystery of the Spirit. Also within this first part of the book, Cole examines the personhood of the Spirit, the deity of the Spirit, and the relation of the Spirit to the Godhead. In the second part of this book, Cole turns from the person of the Spirit to the works of the Spirit, for, as Cole indicates, operation follows being. So then, Cole agrees with the notion that what can be said of the work of the Spirit is predicated on what can be said of the person of the Spirit. In this second part, Cole explicitly interacts with the Old Testament, and derives from it what can be predicated to the Spirit (though he acknowledges that the writers of the OT were not “Trinitarian” per se). In the third part of this book, Cole turns his attention to the New Testament, and continues to explore the work(s) of the Spirit. In this third part, Cole highlights the Spirit’s empowering Jesus as Messiah, the role of the Spirit in the life of God’s people, and the role of the Spirit in fostering community amongst God’s people.

It is easy to agree that human beings are created in the image of God. More debate may arise if we widen the idea to say that humankind as a whole—humanity if you will—reflects the divine image. The difference between the two may be described as the primary focus of the kind of public theology that forms the subject of Daniela Augustine’s book. As the title suggests, she offers a vision of shared flourishing in the image of God that focuses on how God’s Spirit leads humanity to the common good. In her own terms, she pursues the question how a market-shaped world can be mended by the common good in the Spirit’s activity. This task leads through the question how we can get from the common image to the common good (Chapter 1) and how we turn from a world of violence that destroys God’s image to a life that reflects the new creation (Chapter 2). The way to answer these questions leads trough rather unusual terrain for Pentecostals: the recovery of the Eucharist as a sacrament of the divine presence in the realm of economics (Chapter 3) and the experience of forgiveness and reconciliation in the agency of the Spirit (Chapter 4). The book concludes with reflections on how Christians make this agency visible and what moral imperatives are gained for a concrete living community.

Daniela C. Augustine is Associate Professor of Theological Ethics at Lee University.

Augustine’s unusual repertoire for this volume comes from field work with the Pentecostal community in Eastern Slavonia and religion’s role in the transformation of postwar civil society. Augustine argues that “due to their historical neutrality in the conflict, the Pentecostals were uniquely positioned to provide safe space for social healing and facilitate reconciliation among the warring (Orthodox, Catholic, and Muslim) factions” (p. 5). This research provides the backdrop for writing a narrative of the human agency that contributes to the healing and flourishing of life, a hagiography, in the terms of the Christian traditions, or in Augustine’s contemporary terms, a narrative of “the socio-transformative capacity of the saints’ lives as pneumatic embodiment of the world’s eschatological future” (p. 7). That this imagery and vocabulary is not usual for Pentecostal discourse, especially in the West, and the application of this “ancient” Christian tradition, particularly with resources from Eastern Orthodoxy, to contemporary concerns for peace, justice, and forgiveness, on the one hand, and to economics and human flourishing, on the other, make this book both a constructive and creative as well as a challenging read.

Reviewed by Wolfgang Vondey

Publisher’s page: https://www.eerdmans.com/Products/4385/the-spirit-and-the-common-good.aspx

Constantine’s Edict of Milan brought an end to the persecution of Christians, but that did not mean the Church was granted favor throughout the Roman Empire. What are the lessons for us today?

The impression is often left that with the Edict of Milan that Constantine issued in A.D. 313-314 which brought an end to the persecution of Christians, the Church was granted favor throughout the Roman Empire. Such was not the case. Constantine’s policy was only one of toleration. In A.D. 314, the coins that were issued throughout the empire during Constantine’s reign not only carried the image of the cross but also an emblem of Sol Invictus and Mars Conservator. These coins were issued year after year.

A third century silver disc of Sol Invictus (“Unconquered Sun”) that was the official sun god of the later Roman Empire. Image © Marie-Lan Nguyen / Wikimedia Commons.

The state of affairs was therefore of toleration and not of favoritism for a number of years. Persecution of Christians came to an end but there were still problems to be faced. The years between A.D. 313-4 and A.D. 475 were a period of stress and weakness but also a time of strengthening. The Roman pantheon remained and was honored chiefly by those in the military. There were military units that were also religious orders. Sol, the sun, was considered to be the God who brought about important victories. Other military units honored Mars. Various cavalries and infantries had their favorites.

Not only was there still the continuing presence of the Roman pantheon of Gods and heroes, but returning soldiers from the Eastern defense brought with them the cult of Mithra and its initiation rites. Because Rome had its eastern border along the Euphrates river with its main fortress, Dura Europas, facing the Persian city of Ctesiphon on the opposite bank, there was an opening for eastern ways to seep into the Roman empire. Gnosticism, a dualistic spirituality which considered the material world as evil and the spiritual world as good or divine, seeped through to the West as early as the late second century but gained ground through the third and fourth centuries. Gnosticism had a leech-like character and attached itself to anything that looked attractive. The Christian faith was one. As early as A.D. 185, Irenaeus, The bishop of Lyons in Gaul, attacked the Gnostics in his writing, Against Heresies. It was not enough though it helped to retard Gnostic spirituality.

Gnosticism and Mithraism were not the only ones to cross over into the Roman Empire. So did Manichaeism which was perpetrated by a Persian mystic named Mani who itinerated throughout the Persian realms and into parts of Roman East Africa, North Africa, and eastward to the Indus river valley. The man who saw through the errors of Mani was once attracted to his teachings, none other than Augustine. Soon after his conversion to Christ Jesus from a garden experience and the mentorship of Ambrose in Milan, Augustine attacked the teachings of Mani.

Augustine was important for the Church in more ways than his apologetic and polemic writings. One other contribution was the account of his way to Jesus, The Confessions, which had a wide reading within his own lifetime and which has been widely disseminated throughout the subsequent seventeen hundred years. Beyond the inspiration of the dramatic impact of the power of the grace of God in Christ Jesus, Augustine was the first to develop an understanding of the church as a counter-culture. This was done in his later writing De Civitate Deo (The City of God) composed at the time of the weakening of Rome in the West and when the Vandals and Visigoths invaded the western European sector of the empire. This is critical for the next issue of this writing.

Those who succeeded the original apostles as leaders in the churches make no mention of a cessation theory. They do, on the other hand, give testimony of miraculous gifts and healings occurring in their day. I have documented this in my book, 2000 Years of Charismatic Christianity, published by Charisma House. Consider the following quotes from church fathers recognized by both Protestants and Catholics as the legitimate successors of the original apostles.

Justin Martyr (100-165)–“For the prophetical gifts remain with us even to the present time. Now it is possible to see among us women and men who possess gifts of the Spirit of God” (Eddie Hyatt, 2000 Years of Charismatic Christianity, 15).

Irenaeus (125-200)–“In like manner we do also hear many brethren in the Church who possess prophetic gifts and through the Spirit speak all kinds of languages … Yes, moreover, as I have said, the dead even have been raised up, and remained among us for many years” (Hyatt, 16).

Tertullian (150-240)–“For seeing that we too acknowledge the spiritual charismata, or gifts, we too have merited the attainment of the prophetic gift … and heaven knows how many distinguished men, to say nothing of the common people, have been cured either of devils or of their sicknesses” (Hyatt, 17).

Novation (210-280)–“This is he [the Holy Spirit] who places prophets in the church, instructs teachers, directs tongues, gives powers and healings, does wonderful works … and arranges whatever gifts there are of the charismata; and thus making the Lord’s Church everywhere, and in all, perfected and completed (Hyatt, 20-21).

Origen (185-284)–“Some give evidence of their having received through this faith a marvelous power by the cures which they perform, invoking no other over those who need their help that that of the God of all things, along with Jesus and a mention of his history” (Hyatt, 18-19).

Augustine (354-430)–In his work, The City of God, Augustine tells of healings and miracles that he has observed first hand and then says, “I am so pressed by the promise of finishing this work that I cannot record all the miracles I know” (44-45).

Part 2 of Tongues and Other Miraculous Gifts

Richard M. Riss presents evidence for the operation of the gifts of the Spirit throughout the Church Age.

The North African Revival

We have seen that Augustine had adopted the view that miracles had ceased with the close of the apostolic age. In the last two or three years of his life, however, his opinion changed concerning the relative unimportance of contemporaneous miracles. This was precipitated by a revival in North Africa, where Augustine lived. Suddenly, miracles seemed to proliferate. Augustine quickly decided to publicize the miraculous healings in North Africa, and as bishop in Hippo, he examined and recorded each report that came to his attention. He gave verified reports of healings a maximum of publicity, and he insisted upon receiving a written report from every person who claimed to be healed. This report, or libellus, would then be read publicly in church, in the presence of the writer, and would later be stored in Augustine’s library. He attempted to persuade his colleagues to use the same system, but without great success. In the case of the healing of a noble lady in Carthage, Augustine was disappointed that she failed to use her rank and influence to publicize a miracle of healing that she had experienced. A renowned twentieth-century specialist in Augustine, Peter Brown, stated that Augustine attempted to bring together various incidents of miracles “until they formed a single corpus, as compact and compelling as the miracles that had assisted the growth of the Early Church.”⁴⁵ Some of the material that Augustine collected appears in the last book (Book 22) of his work, City of God, the eighth chapter of which contains a very lengthy description of miracles which he had either witnessed himself, or about which he had heard from those whom he considered to be reliable witnesses.⁴⁶

The account in City of God is too lengthy for detailed treatment here, but included in it are reports of healings of blindness, multiple rectal fistula, cancer of the breast, gout, paralysis, hernia of the scrotum, and other diseases. Augustine recounts other miracles in which farm animals were cured, demons were cast out of certain individuals, and the dead were raised. In one case, a poor man who lost his cloak prayed, and later found a huge fish squirming upon the beach. He sold it to a restaurant, where a gold ring was found in the gullet of the fish and given to him. In another case, a cart drawn by oxen ran over a child. After his mother prayed, the child not only returned to consciousness, but he showed no sign of the crushing he had suffered.