Here is a book that lingers in the mind like an unresolved chord. In the cacophony of modern theology, where the church often whispers from the shadows of institutional safety, Wolfgang Vondey’s The Scandal of Pentecost: A Theology of the Public Church erupts like the biblical wind and fire it describes—demanding we confront the raw, disruptive birth of the Christian community not as a tidy origin story, but as a scandalous intrusion into public life.

Vondey, a prominent Pentecostal theologian and professor at the University of Birmingham, draws from his deep roots in Pentecostal scholarship to reframe Pentecost as the foundational event where the church emerges as a “public symbol of humanity,” embodying both brokenness and redemption. The book weaves biblical exegesis, historical theology, and philosophical anthropology into a narrative that challenges privatized views of Pentecost. It argues that the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on “all flesh” (Acts 2:17) isn’t a mere spiritual footnote but a transformative scandal, revealing the church’s symbiotic tensions—internal conflicts and external confrontations—that propel it into the world.

Vondey’s engagement with the concept of the church as a public symbol is another highlight of the book. Drawing on the work of public theologians such as Martin Marty, he argues that the church’s public witness is not merely a matter of visibility or influence, but of embodying “the communal character of faith” in a world marked by fragmentation and conflict (p. 8). The church, he writes, is “a faith built of ‘broken symbols,’ manifested above all in the scandal of the crucified Christ” (p. 91). The public nature of the church is thus inseparable from its willingness to embrace brokenness, vulnerability, and the tensions of life in a pluralistic society (p. 91). Vondey is clear that the church’s public vocation is not about triumphalism or domination, but about offering “ordering against chaos and meaning where it had been absent” (p. 12). The church’s task, he suggests, is to engage in a “public hermeneutic” that interprets Christian symbols in ways that are persuasive and life-giving, both within and beyond the boundaries of the faith community (p. 20).

Before I rest my pen, one thing must not go unnoticed: not every academic theological book ends with a poem, but Wolfgang Vondey’s choice to conclude poetically is both striking and fitting. The poem distills the book’s central themes into a vivid, almost breathless sequence of images, capturing the disruptive and transformative energy of Pentecost. Vondey’s language is intentionally visceral—“heart-beating, lips-stammering / sons and daughters / in scandalous intoxication”—evoking the embodied, communal, and even chaotic nature of the Spirit’s outpouring. It’s a powerful poetic summary that resonates long after the final page.

In conclusion, The Scandal of Pentecost is a significant and inspiring contribution to Pentecostal theology and to the wider conversation about the church’s place in the world. It is a work of both scholarship and imagination, rooted in tradition yet open to the future. For those seeking to articulate a public theology of Pentecostalism—one that is both faithful to the Spirit and responsive to the complexities of contemporary life—Vondey’s book is an indispensable resource. It challenges us to embrace the scandal of the Spirit, to risk new forms of community, and to bear witness to the hope that is within us. But perhaps the most enduring gift of Vondey’s work is its reminder that the church’s true vocation is not to seek safety or respectability, but to live in the creative tension of the Spirit’s leading. The scandal of Pentecost is that God’s Spirit refuses to be domesticated—refuses to be confined to our institutions, our traditions, or our comfort zones. Instead, the Spirit calls us out—into the world, into relationship, into the risky, joyful, and sometimes messy work of building communion in the midst of difference. To embrace the scandal of Pentecost is to open ourselves to the Spirit’s surprising, unsettling, and renewing work—not only for our own sake, but for the life of the world.

Reviewed by Ciprian Gheorghe-Luca

Karen L. Willoughby, “Space Force hymn writer inspired by ‘awe and wonder of God’” Baptist Press (July 3, 2024).

PneumaReview.com author Jim Linzey writes: “the Baptist Press has published this article, mentioning the New Tyndale Version (NTV) and the hymn I wrote. The Baptist Press has the largest readership in the world among Protestant publications.”

Image: Sarah Burvenich

Eugene Bach, “Pastor Dennis Balcombe Shares the Essential Element Needed for Revival” Back to Jerusalem (July 28, 2024).

Both Eugene Bach and Dennis Balcombe are PneumaReview.com authors. Search here for more on Revival.

PR

The last several years have seen a plethora of books published concerning the church and political involvement. While I haven’t done a detailed study of the number of books published annually in the field of political theology, it seems to this casual observer that the quantity each year is increasing. Some people have long held that politics have no place in the church. Others point out that Christianity itself is a politic, in that it addresses how human beings should best organize their shared lives and communities.

Dr. Michael L. Brown is no stranger to addressing politics from a biblical standpoint. In 2022, he entered the political realm once again with the book The Political Seduction of the Church. In fourteen chapters spanning 265 pages, he discusses Christian involvement in the January 6 storming of the Capitol in Washington, D.C., false prophecies concerning the 2020 election, and Christian nationalism, among other pertinent topics.

In the second chapter of the book, Brown makes it clear that the church of Jesus is transcendent; it goes beyond boundaries human beings tend to use to dive people, such as ethnicity, language, nationality, or political affiliation. He takes the Apostle Paul’s instructions in 1 Corinthians 6 concerning not joining the members of Christ’s body to a prostitute, and makes a point concerning not joining ourselves to anything that is unclean and defiling, which could include political activity when engaged in according to the world’s standards instead of God’s. When it comes to political activism, Brown writes:

Unfortunately, we often lose our way here, joining ourselves to the spirit of the age, becoming as partisan as the political system and as nasty (and childish) as the worst attack ads. We gleefully repost all kinds of mocking memes and loudly castigate those who differ with us—even our fellow Christians—insulting them in the basest of ways. And we do this, we claim, because God has emboldened us, because we are full of the Spirit, because we will not back down. What a deception. What a severe degrading of our holy calling. What a pathetic compromise. In reality, when we, God’s people, fight primarily with political or worldly weapons, we forfeit our supernatural strength. (pp. 25-26, italics mine)

In chapter four, Brown discusses the subtlety of seduction. Just as an extramarital affair rarely happens overnight, but comes about as a result of small compromises here and there, so too spiritual seduction is an incremental process. Brown writes, “We have lost our will to resist, or, perhaps worse still, we don’t even realize that we need to resist.” The promises of political protection of our interests, along with the offer to have a seat at the table of power, slowly convince us to overlook the faults and foibles of those making the offer to us, until we are firmly entangled in the sticky web and find it difficult, if not impossible, to extricate ourselves. Christians got behind Trump because he “was willing to put himself in harm’s way for their sake. He was willing to challenge the lying media….He was willing to confront the radical leftists who wanted to disfigure our nation….So what if he lied. So what if he was nasty in the process. So what if he created deeper divisions along the way” (p. 49). Notice the irony: Christians embraced someone they knew was a liar to confront the lying media. Yet Christians should know that one cannot fight the devil using the devil’s tactics. Brown goes on to call out the idolatrous nature of the dedication to Trump exhibited by many:

In the end, we even began to mirror Trump in our own attitudes and words, acting in ways that we would have deplored just years or even months before, ways that were in violation of our faith and morals. We, too, engaged in mockery and name-calling. We, too, savaged those who rejected Trump’s leadership. We even questioned the spirituality of those who could not vote for Trump, as if they were being disloyal to God. And ultimately we took on some of Trump’s most unchristian characteristics, just as Psalm 115 declares that those who worship idols become like the idols they worship. (p. 52)

But more liberal-minded Christians don’t escape scrutiny. Brown points out that, just as many conservative believers justified their hateful words and actions because their opponents were “the godless Left,” many professing Christians on the Left likewise justified their own words and actions toward fellow Christians on the Right by reasoning that Trump—and anyone who voted for him—were so bad they didn’t deserve the basic respect due to all those made in God’s image.

Dr. Brown goes on in chapter five to point out that idolatry, just like seduction, is very subtle. While many Christians bristle at the suggestion that their political activism has become idolatrous, their sense of despair and impending doom when their preferred candidate loses—or, in some cases, their unwillingness to admit he or she lost—reveals that things have actually arrived at the point of idolatry. Brown reminds his readers that idolatry does not always involve a complete denial of the God of Israel, but “attributing to others what should only be attributed to Him” (75). Looking to anything or anyone other than God to provide what only God can rightfully provide is the essence of idolatry.

In chapters seven and eight, the book gets into perhaps the issue most closely related to the Pentecostal/Charismatic movement: the prophets who missed it in regard to the 2000 election. Brown here includes extended quotes from the political prophets’ YouTube videos, newsletters, and web sites. When their predictions of a second consecutive term for President Trump went bust, many of those who had claimed direct revelation from God doubled down, rather than admit they had mistaken their own thoughts and desires for the voice of the Lord. This insistent denial struck me as analogous to proponents of the health and wealth gospel who refuse to admit they are ill, for fear of making a “negative confession.” Brown gives an extensive analysis of possible causes for so many missed prophecies, some of which basically amount to spiritual peer pressure: if someone you believe genuinely hears from God says that Trump will be re-elected (or reinstated, as the case may be), and you know your followers like Trump and expect you to hear from God, it’s a short walk to allow your own desires (and ministry standing) to push you to make a similar proclamation. “They assumed that, as prophets, they should know the future. And that assumption led to presumption since the Lord had clearly not revealed these things to them” (125).

Chapter eleven deals with healthy and unhealthy mixtures of politics and religion. It is healthy for believers to become politically involved by attending local council and school board meetings, advocating for biblical views on issues, and even running for office at the local, state, and national levels. The mixture of religion and politics becomes unhealthy, however, when political expediency, and compromising principles for the sake of gaining or maintaining power, cause politics to become the dominating influence, dimming the light of truth. The American church needs to remember that Jesus does not need the political system to advance His kingdom; the church is growing by leaps and bounds in places like China and Iran, where the governmental systems are overtly opposed to and oppressing Christians.

In the thirteenth chapter, Brown discusses Christian nationalism and some of the violent tendencies that have arisen in some sectors of the church. He advises against embracing the term “Christian nationalism,” in part because God has not called political nation states to do the work of the church. Chapter fourteen provides a summary of how Christians failed the test when it comes to the seduction of political power, and how we can learn from our past mistakes in this area. We must focus more on the unity we have around King Jesus than we do on the differences of opinion regarding policies and partisanship. We must seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, instead of seeking the power of worldly kingdoms. And even when we do get involved in politics, we must do everything in a Christian spirit of love and respect, even when we differ.

Perhaps the problems we are seeing with partisan politics dividing the church of Christ today stem from the church’s past failure to disciple believers in how to address political issues faithfully in accordance with the Scriptures, leaving the sheep to get their political formation from talk radio and cable news. Human beings are political creatures; if the church doesn’t teach them how to deal with political issues with compassion while maintaining biblical convictions, they will find instruction elsewhere, and that instruction will likely follow the ways of the world rather than the way of King Jesus.

Reviewed by Brain Roden

For Christians who believe in the continuing gifts of the Spirit, testing national prophecies is a tricky task. In every election cycle, there are prophets announcing who the Lord’s pick is, and which candidate will win. In 2012, for instance, the prophetic consensus was that Mitt Romney was the Lord’s choice and that he would win. They were wrong.

In the 2016 election, Trump emerged as the prophets’ pick. As early as 2007, Kim Clement had delivered a prophecy that God would “raise up the Trump to become a trumpet.”[1] In 2011, ex-fireman Mark Taylor received a series of visions and locutions stating that Trump would become president and was chosen by God to bring America back to righteousness and its true Christian calling.[2] In July 2015, Charisma magazine published a prophecy by Jeremiah Johnson that God was raising up Trump to be a Cyrus figure in the 2016 election, and that Trump would be like “a bull in a china closet”[3] (Cyrus was a pagan king who was anointed by God to return the Jews to their homeland). In fall 2015, businessman Lance Wallnau prophesied that Trump was God’s “chaos candidate” and would be a “wrecking ball to political correctness.”[4] Numerous other, lesser-known prophetic people also reported dreams and visions showing that the Lord had a special purpose in Trump becoming president.

These prophecies played a large role in gathering charismatic support behind Trump and eventually securing his victory.  Looking back, did these prophets truly hear from the Lord? Or did soulish “wish for” prophecies lead to an outcome that was not, in fact, what the Lord had intended?

As we head into the 2020 election, how should believers weigh the Trump prophecies? Should we take them at face value and conclude that Trump is the Lord’s anointed, and so vote for him, because to do otherwise would be to oppose the Lord? Or should we view them skeptically and vote on other criteria, such as the candidates’ character and position on relevant issues?

A Discerning Voice

In his new book, On Discerning Trump’s Character and Presidency:  A Theological Reflection on How False Prophecy Influenced American Politics, historian William De Arteaga offers insight on these questions. For those familiar with De Arteaga’s excellent book Quenching the Spirit, it comes as no surprise that De Arteaga brings his considerable grasp of history and discernment literature, as well as his penetrating insight, to this work.

The first three-quarters of the book are actually not about discerning the prophecies themselves, but about discerning Trump’s character and his presidency. De Arteaga also traces what he sees as the decline of culture and of the Republican Party that made Trump’s presidency possible. While this may seem like a detour, it lays important groundwork for De Arteaga’s ultimate argument that the prophecies were wholly or in part false.

De Arteaga begins with an assessment of Trump’s character. Like others before him, he blasts Trump’s habitual reviling of opponents, his “aggressive speech and uncharitable tweets and off the cuff remarks” (14), and how these behaviors have contributed to the decline of civility and reasoned discourse in American politics. He questions how a man who frequently lies can be trusted. De Arteaga expresses disappointment that Christians would excuse and even embrace Trump’s immoral behavior and links this attitude to antinomianism – the heresy that conduct does not matter so long as one confesses Jesus as Lord. The analysis in this section is erudite and well-reasoned, but not especially novel if you’ve followed other criticisms of Trump in National Review, First Things, etc.

De Arteaga then traces the events that led to American Christians’ increasing sense of persecution by mainstream culture and secular authority to the point that many viewed 2016 (to borrow Michael Anton’s arresting metaphor) as the “Flight 93 Election.” The increasing secularization of education and popular culture, Supreme Court decisions and liberal legislation chipping away at traditional understandings of the family and sexuality, and the eradication of Christian values in schools led to a situation in which many American Christians felt they needed to turn the tide at any cost.

Prophecy

The most interesting part of the book is where De Arteaga specifically looks at the Trump prophecies and compares them with instances of false prophecy by sincere Christians in the past.

De Arteaga insightfully points out that evangelicals and charismatics tend to be largely ahistorical:

Many charismatic and non-denominational churches are a-historical: they have little or no understanding of Church history. They usually pay much attention to Scripture, but assume that, for instance, the “Catholic” period of the Church is so full of error it is not worth learning about. The Patristic period of the Church Fathers, and their wonderful discernment writing might as well have been written for another planet and race of beings. (83)

This ahistorical approach to Christianity has serious consequences. As is often said, those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. False prophecy is not a new phenomenon. As early as 170 AD, the prophet Montanus prophesied the imminent return of Christ and led many believers astray. While the Catholic Church has dealt with its share of false prophecies, the regular stream of monks, nuns, and laypeople receiving visions and personal revelations led to the development of a rich literature of discernment. Spiritual directors arose to mentor prophetic people and help them discern which revelations came from the Lord, their flesh, or the devil.

De Arteaga discusses the very interesting example of David Wilkerson’s false prophecy, The Vision. De Arteaga does not doubt that Wilkerson was a very anointed minister who bore great fruit for the Kingdom; however, his apocalyptic predictions for 1973-1983 largely proved false. They were based upon “the fears, prejudices, and belief structures of his own subconscious mind and those in his immediate faith community” (76).

De Arteaga makes a strong case that many of the Trump prophecies fit the same pattern. Many of Mark Taylor’s prophecies, for instance, demonize Democratic leaders and unambiguously paint them as evil. They cater to right-wing fears, such as Obama’s intent to strip the people of their guns or run for a third term in violation of the Constitution. And some have proven false with time – for example, the prophecy that Obama would be forcibly stripped of his office instead of leaving gracefully with dignity. De Arteaga’s analysis of the Taylor prophecies is fascinating, and I wish that he had devoted more attention to the other prophets that foretold Trump’s presidency.

In the end, De Arteaga comes to a very nuanced conclusion. He neither says that all of the Trump prophecies were categorically false, nor does he say that they were all true. Rather, he concludes that they may have contained true revelation from the Lord, which got diluted with soulish concerns and wishes. The kernel of truth may have been what led charismatic leaders to embrace the prophecies, and Trump. Nonetheless, De Arteaga chastises charismatic leaders for what has been, for the most part, uncritical support of the President. Even if Trump is anointed by God for a special purpose, the Bible gives precedent for prophets speaking truth to anointed kings. For instance, David was the Lord’s anointed, and yet the prophet Nathan confronted his sin. De Arteaga urges prophetic leaders to fulfill this aspect of their function.

On the other hand, De Arteaga also raises the possibility that perhaps all of the Trump prophecies were false, even demonically inspired, and that following them has led to grave damage in the Body of Christ and to our nation. Many will disagree, but it is a sobering possibility to consider. Whatever you think of President Trump and the Trump prophecies, De Arteaga’s book is a worthwhile and thought-provoking treatment of an important subject.

Reviewed by Esther Tsai

Notes

[1] https://www.charismamag.com/video/40242-2007-kim-clement-prophecy-says-president-will-be-baptized-in-holy-spirit-build-the-wall-win-second-term.

[2] Mark Taylor and Mary Colbert, The Trump Prophecies (Defender Publishing, 2017).

[3] Jeremiah Johnson, “Prophecy: Donald Trump Shall Become the Trumpet,” Prophetic Insight, (July 28, 2015),  https://charismamail.com/ga/webviews/4-864964-30-224-231-371-9d7ae3cdab.

[4] Dr. Lance Wallnau, God’s Chaos Candidate: Donald J. Trump and the American Unraveling (Killer Sheep Media, Inc., 2016), 7.

Ronald J. Sider, Just Politics: A Guide for Christian Engagement (Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2012), xvii + 249 pages, ISBN 9781587433269.

Ronald J. Sider, Fixing the Moral Deficit: A Balanced Way to Balance the Budget (Downers Grove: IVP Books, 2012), 171 pages, ISBN 9780830837953.

Ronald J. Sider, ed., The Early Church and Killing: A Comprehensive Sourcebook on War, Abortion, and Capital Punishment (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2012), 216 pages, ISBN 9780801036309.

Paul Alexander and Al Tizon, eds., Following Jesus: Journeys in Radical Discipleship – Essays in Honor of Ronald J. Sider (Oxford: Regnum Books International, 2013), xiv + 235 pages, ISBN 9781908355270.

Some readers of this journal will think of Ron Sider, founder of Evangelicals for Social Action, as being on the left side of the Christian theological and political spectrum. Many others will recognize this longtime Distinguished Professor of Theology, Holistic Ministry and Public Policy at Palmer Theological Seminary – now related to Eastern University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania – as being centrally evangelical in his commitments to biblical and Christ-centered engagements with the important social issues of the present age like poverty, war, and public policy. Over his career, he has published over thirty books and hundreds of scholarly and lay-accessible articles devoted to mobilizing evangelical believers, especially, to not only think but also live faithfully as Christ-followers in the public square.

Ron Sider speaking at “Christ at the Checkpoint” conference in Bethlehem in March 2012.
Image: Danielbannoura / Wikimedia Commons

This review focuses on three of Sider’s most recent books (all from 2012), and a festschrift published in his honor. The three volumes are of different types but each one engages perennial Siderian themes. Just Politics is actually a second edition of The Scandal of Evangelical Politics published by Baker Books in 2008. It includes a new preface that comments critically on literature published too late to be considered in the first edition plus what has appeared between 2008-2011 at the intersection of evangelical studies and the political. The hallmarks of Sider’s approach are evident: extended reflections on the Bible in order to discern a faithful Christian understanding of the polis and, from this scriptural framework, proposals for evangelical engagements with the political. Part three presents an overarching evangelical political theology and philosophy addressing nine themes, topics, and issues (in nine chapters): the state, justice, human rights (including democracy and capitalism), the sanctity of human life, marriage and family, religious freedom in connection to the church-state relationship, peacemaking in relationship to just war and nonviolence, creation care, and nation-states and international affairs. Each chapter undertakes historical, political, and social analysis and includes recommendations for faithful evangelical political praxis with an eye towards shaping public policy in these domains.

How do you avoid extremes in the pulpit on controversial affairs of state?

As a Reformed Calvinist pastor, Trumper writes for conservative and Reformed evangelicals. He advocates for a middle position between not preaching on politics at all and making preaching altogether political. He calls his position ‘the biblical-political approach.’ His research incorporates both liberal and conservative writers on the subjects of politics and the Bible. In following his father’s advice, he wishes to follow Christ more than any party or personality. Since he is both a citizen of Great Britain and a resident of the United States, he covers the political spectrum in both countries.

According to Trumper, expository preaching best allows preachers to address the strengths and weaknesses of both political parties in the light of Scripture. In the three chapters of his short book, he maintains the biblical-political approach is a middle way, a spiritual way, and a practical way. He rightly maintains some preachers over-engage politics in the pulpit, while others never engage political issues at all. His contention that the Fox television channel does not speak adequately for the church might rile some conservative readers. Its owners, in his view, also tend to worry more about ratings than objectivity. He sounds the alarm against the dangers of generalizations of either party. He argues correctly, in the opinion of this reviewer, that avoidance of political preaching altogether is irresponsible and unbiblical. The Old Testament prophets certainly addressed political issues.

Why does expository preaching, in particular, serve as the most effective approach in the pulpit? For the following reasons: it comprises the most comprehensive approach, best covers the biblical world view, keeps the preacher away from hobby horses, and broadens the possibilities of application (pp. 22-4). The biblical–political preacher will encourage examination of both the issues and methods of debate (p. 51).

Trumper wisely reminds his readers that equally sound and committed Christian thinkers take different sides on the same issues. He discusses how various preachers deal with congregants who disagree with their approach. Often, unfortunately, they are subtly encouraged to leave, despite the fact that Scripture never endorses any political party. In a thorough fashion, the writer evaluates the pros and cons of the three current approaches taken and concludes that the middle way of expository preaching has the best chance to make converts and save the culture.

The research done for this volume was thorough. The footnotes and bibliography refer the reader to a wealth of resources from the left and the right, politically and theologically. In this way, the author serves as an excellent example of the stance he advocates. The biblical-political approach demands more exacting scholarship out of the preacher in terms of both the study of Scripture and society than either of the other two approaches (pp. 56-7). Of course, preachers who follow the likes of James Kennedy, the former pastor of Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church, will disagree with this author’s middle of the road stance, as will supporters of the likes of Jerry Falwell, former founder of the Moral Majority. Both of these evangelical preachers tended to address political issues in the pulpit more often than most of their peers and tended to side with only the Republican Party.

For most readers of The Pneuma Review, this will not be an easy book to read. Graham Ward, professor of contextual theology and ethics at the University of Manchester in the United Kingdom, writes with a density and against a backdrop of contemporary philosophical debates that will simply be impenetrable to those without a graduate level theological education. Be that as it may, the argument developed here, an extension of a much larger project Ward has now prosecuted in the many other books he has written over the last dozen or so years, deserves attention by those in the renewal movement who are concerned about Christian discipleship in the twenty-first century.

In brief, the two central theses of this volume, captured in its title, is that all Christian discipleship has a political character, and the call to discipleship in our time involves the embodiment of a postmaterial form of life. Postmaterialism, Ward suggests, is a counter-cultural posture that not only resists the materialistic consumption of an unbridled capitalist way of life but also rejects the de-materialized virtual reality inhabited by an increasing percentage of the contemporary world. The former materialist mentality is hedonistic and self-absorbed, while the latter dematerialist trend perverts the embodied and material nature of men and women created as good in the divine image. The response, then, ought to be a postmaterialist theology, even metaphysics – as opposed to the claims regarding ours being a post-metaphysical era which actually masks the deployment of bad or destructive metaphysical assumptions- of the body, both at the personal level of intersubjective relationships and at the political level of ecclesial-social interactions.

Renewal church leaders and even scholars may contrast material with spiritual, thus assuming that a postmaterial citizen is one who is (in their mind) oriented toward the spiritual, other, or next world. Ward is indeed focused on what he calls throughout his book “the eschatological remainder,” the incompleteness of Christ-with-us in history and the heralding of partially present but yet to-appear-in-the-future kingdom. However, while this eschatological remainder names what we hope for, it is different from a false optimism that claims to fully know such hopes; instead, hope is shaped in part by what we don’t know. Thus the eschatological remainder serves as an apophatic check on our kataphatic theological commitments. Yet this eschatologically rich theological vision is clear also to highlight, because of Ward’s emphasis on a theology of the body, the very concrete, palpable, and political nature of Christian discipleship. To dwell in Christ (as St. Paul has it) is also to have Christ dwelling in us as embodied, social, economic, and political creatures, with embodied, social, economic, and political interactions with those around us. Thus to be disciples is to act out the way of Christ in the world, precisely the nature of public and political life. Being postmaterial therefore does not mean being spiritually minded if such involves being of no earthly good; on the contrary, being postmaterially and spiritually engaged with discipleship involves political witness, interaction, and engagement.

Dan Cohn-Sherbok, The Politics of Apocalypse: The History and Influence of Christian Zionism (Oxford: Oneworld, 2006), xv+221pages, ISBN 9781851684533.

Recent years have witnessed a notable scholarly interest in the instrumental role played by some Christians in helping to establish a Jewish homeland in Palestine in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, which ultimately led to the creation of the State of Israel in 1948. From an Evangelical standpoint, Stephen Sizer in particular has expressed criticism of early Christian Zionism, while more recently Paul Wilkinson has challenged Sizer’s approach by focusing on and portraying dispensationalists during this period in a far more positive light. For some pro-Israel Evangelicals, efforts by several senior nineteenth century British politicians to create the conditions necessary to secure a Jewish homeland are perceived as an historical ‘Cyrus moment’ whereby God utilised a secular power to restore his people to their covenantal and ancestral homeland.

Dan Cohen-Sherbok’s book likewise explores how Christian Zionists helped establish a Jewish homeland, drawing strongly upon Sizer’s research (which he acknowledges at the outset). Yet whereas Sizer’s polemical (and unnecessarily pejorative) approach is aimed at an Evangelical audience divided over its response to modern Israel, for the most part Cohn-Sherbok offers his readers a more dispassionate and objective appraisal. As such, the historical narrative which unfolds during the first three-quarters of his book is permitted to speak for itself, without constant recourse to criticism of the main actors, thus making it all the more readable and compelling. This is possibly because he sets out to demonstrate how Zionist thinking was central both to emerging and also mainstream, historic British nineteenth-century Christianity, unlike Sizer who arguably portrays early Christian Zionists as a minority on the fringes of orthodoxy.

Nonetheless, there are structural issues concerning how some of the book’s material is presented. For example, the bulk of Cohn-Sherbok’s narrative gives almost equal time to Jewish religious and secular Zionism, rather than focusing on Christian Zionism alone. Clearly, both Zionist camps overlapped to a degree, drawing upon and mutually exploiting each other’s agenda to further their own. Nonetheless, Cohn-Sherbok’s title and stated aim is somewhat misleading as the book does not focus wholly upon Christian Zionism. Moreover, the compelling narrative which unfolds during the first 150 pages or so of Cohn-Sherbok’s book shifts abruptly in the last quarter of the book, suddenly exploring Christian Zionist influences upon Washington’s foreign policy. Particularly noteworthy is how Cohn-Sherbok quotes lengthily from pre-tribulationist Tim LeHaye’s Left Behind books, a dispensationalist Christian fiction series set in an end-times seven year tribulation period which commences after the Church has been raptured, or caught up to heaven. It is quite one thing to discuss how LeHaye’s books were bestsellers that sold millions of copies in the U.S., but it is quite another to extrapolate from this the thesis that Evangelical dispensationalism therefore lies at the heart of U.S. politics and foreign policy. Indeed, British Christianity indirectly helped create the State of Israel, while its North American counterpart contributed (and continues to do so) towards sustaining it. But contrary to popular European opinion, North American Evangelicalism is far from homogenous, and while it is true that many Christians in the U.S. lend strong support to modern Israel, this is not necessarily borne out of a dispensationalist influence upon U.S. politics. Consider, for example, how post-Holocaust theology has contributed to expressions of support for Israel from across Christendom ever since the State of Israel was founded in 1948.