Sep 13, 2009
Dr. Waldron reviews Tim Keller's The Reason for God
A Critical Review of Tim Keller’s The Reason for God
By Sam Waldron
Keller, Timothy. The Reason for God. New York, New York: Dutton (Penguin Group), 2008, 293 pp.
Introduction
Tim Keller’s The Reason for God is a good book. No. Scratch that. It is a really good book. I wanted after reading the first three chapters to assign it immediately as a text for the classes filled with mostly unconverted freshman I teach at Kentucky Wesleyan College. His apologetics connects with the culture in which he ministers. This is so because it is built on the real live interaction he has had with unbelievers in New York City where he has ministered since 1989.. Keller’s method is simply to answer the most common objections to Christianity with which he has been confronted over the years. This gives a freshness and relevance to what he says which is impressive. I found myself admiring his freshness and relevance again and again as I read the the book.
Keller is the minister at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan. God has used him to build a thriving and biblical (and very large–5000 people were in attendance by 2007) church in the midst of New York City paganism. Redeemer has also given birth to a number of daughter congregations in the city. Keller carefully tells us that this did not happen by their adopting avant garde methods or by melding Christian doctrine with the spirit of the age. At one point he notes that visitors are surprised at how “orthodox” and “traditional” Redeemer Presbyterian is. (xiv)
All of this does not mean that The Reason for God is without flaws. There are problems endemic to almost all apologetic attempts to commend Christianity to the world. One of those dangers is the subtle tendency to shave down some of the roughest edges of the old rugged cross and soften the hardest sayings of Scripture for the sake of commending it to a critical world. I do not think Keller has wholly avoided these dangers. I want, however, to say that even here that he has fallen into them less than most Christian apologists. I will say more about this later.
Overview
Let me give a brief overview of Keller’s book before I come to the many commendations and the few criticisms I have of it. The Reason for God is divided into two parts and between them (in keeping I guess with the artsy New York scene) is what Keller calls an “Intermission.”
Part 1 consists of an introduction and Keller’s answers to the seven most often raised objections to Christianity which he has heard as a pastor in New York City. In his introduction Keller argues that both skepticism and faith “are on the ascendancy in the world today.” (ix) This is why both sides sometimes engage in shrill and alarmist rhetoric. Both see themselves as endangered by the other. He then encourages both believers and unbelievers to face their doubts squarely. He affirms that a Christian faith which has not answered the tough questions which doubt asks is weak and ready to fall. (xvi) He also asserts that unbelievers must realize that there is a kind of faith behind their doubts about Christianity. They have “a set of alternate beliefs” (xvii) in which their unbelief is rooted. He urges skeptics to wrestle with the “blind faith on which skepticism is based.” (xviii)
In his first seven chapters Keller responds to the seven objections mentioned above. They are (1) “There Can’t Be Just One True Religion.” (2) “How Could a Good God Allow Suffering?” (3) “Christianity Is a Straitjacket.” (4) “The Church Is Responsible for So Much Injustice.” (5) “How Can a Loving God Send People to Hell?” (6) “Science Has Disproved Christianity.” (7) “You Can’t Take the Bible Literally.”
In each of these chapters Keller begins by stating as fairly and strongly as possible the objection being made. Then with frequent use of contemporary illustrations drawn from literature and movies and both Christians and non-Christians, he proceeds to show the inner inconsistencies of the skeptical position. Keller is without exception extremely fair to the skeptic. In fact, this feature of his method will form the basis of some of my criticisms. Nevertheless, I think his approach is wise and reflects the ability to get a conversation started with the unbeliever and avoid the yelling match that so frequently characterizes exchanges between skeptics and unbelievers in our culture today.
In his “Intermission” Keller explains the purpose of the second part of his book. “It is one thing to argue that there are no sufficient reasons for disbelieving Christianity.” That was the purpose of the first part of the book. “It is another to argue that there are sufficient reasons for believing it. That is what I will try to do in the last part of the volume.” (115) Keller then proceeds to answer two questions about this purpose. They are respectively, Which Christianity?, and, Which Rationality? In response to the question, Which Christianity, Keller affirms that he is defending the Christianity of the “great ecumenical creeds.” (116) In response to the question, Which Rationality?, he rejects the idea that he must offer “a logical or empirical argument for God that is airtight and therefore convinces almost everyone.” (118) Keller argues here that the skeptics cannot offer such arguments for their viewpoint and that it is unfair for them to demand such arguments from Christians. (118) Citing the famous statement of the Russian who returned from space and reported that he had not found God, Keller affirms, “If the God of the Bible exists, he is not the man in the attic, but the Playwright. That means that we won’t be able to find him like we would find a passive object with the powers of empirical investigation.” (123)
Part 2 of Keller’s book contains seven chapters and an epilogue: (8) “The Clues of God” (9) “The Knowledge of God” (10) “The Problem of Sin” (11) “Religion and the Gospel” (12) “The (True) Story of the Cross” (13) “The Reality of the Resurrection” (14) “The Dance of God.” The epilogue is entitled, “Where Do We Go from Here?”
Commendations
I want to spend some time explaining the commendable things about Keller’s book. The first thing is this. I like his eschatology.
I imagine someone responding to this comment by wondering, But I thought this was book on apologetics? It is. But here is what I mean. Keller begins, as I have said, by distancing himself from the alarmist rhetoric on both sides of the divide between belief and unbelief. On the one hand, you have believers in America convinced that the unbelievers are about to deny them their religious freedoms. On the other hand, you have unbelievers talking as if a theocratic state which persecutes unbelievers is just around the corner.
Now, of course, both these prospects have a certain element of truth in them. As believers we know the mystery of iniquity already works. There have, on the other hand, been theocratic and professedly Christian states in history. Nevertheless, I think that Keller is wise to tone down the rhetoric and fear on both sides of this debate here in America. For one thing until these fears are diminished we will not be able even to talk to each other in the way the gospel requires.
Against the extremist rhetoric on both sides Keller affirms that throughout the world both belief and unbelief are growing stronger. Keller writes: “First, each side should accept that both religious belief andskepticism are on the rise. …. This would eliminate the self-talk that is rampant in each camp, namely that it will soon be extinct, overrun by the opposition.” (xvi)
Why do I like this? Because I think it is exactly what Jesus was teaching in the parable of the wheat and weeds. Jesus tells us that both rosy optimism and gloomy pessimism are out of sync’ with his view of the future. Both good and evil will grow and prosper together. It seems paradoxical to us. True! But it is what Jesus teaches. Matthew 13:30 records his words: Allow both to grow together until the harvest; and in the time of the harvest I will say to the reapers, “First gather up the tares and bind them in bundles to burn them up; but gather the wheat into my barn.” Keller has a balanced eschatology, and it helps him to start the conversation with unbelievers.
Perhaps even more than his eschatology, I like Keller’s apologetic. (The only reason I can say I like it more is that this is after all a book intended to defend the faith. I am not ranking apologetics above eschatology in importance.) Too often I have begun books on apologetics that I thought might be useful. Yet, I no more than start them than I find myself reading unalloyed Evidentialism complete with all its hopeless non sequiturs. Illogic rarely helps me in ministry.
I am thankful to say that Keller’s book is not filled with the illogical ramblings of an Evidentialist. Really strict Presuppositionalists may (in fact, they do) find fault with some aspect of his methodology, but it appears to me that Keller is approximates very closely and capably at most points a presuppositional approach to the defense of the faith. Let me offer three examples of this.
First, Part 1 of the book is an extended application of the negative aspect of the transcendental argument to modern arguments against Christianity. It offers, in other words, devastating internal critiques of the current, anti-Christian arguments against the faith. Keller again and again shows how these arguments are self-contradictory in that they assume and deny the same presuppositions.
For instance, Keller addresses the argument that there simply can’t be just one true religion. Notice his angle of attack in the following quotation. “Skeptics believe that any exclusive claims to a superior knowledge of spiritual reality cannot be true. But this objection is itself a religious belief. It assumes God is unknowable, or that God is loving but not wrathful, or that God is an impersonal force rather than a person who speaks in Scripture. All of these are unprovable faith assumptions. In addition, their proponents believe they have a superior way to view things. …. Therefore, their view is also an “exclusive” about the nature of spiritual reality.” (12)
Another example of Keller’s presuppositional approach is how he addresses the problem of evil and suffering. In a consistently presuppositional way he argues that the argument against the existence of God based on the problem of suffering actually presupposes the existence of God. He says: “If you are sure that this natural world is unjust and filled with evil, you are assuming the reality of some extra-natural (or supernatural) standard by which to make your judgment.” (26)
Keller’s presuppositional approach also shows up in his moderate use of the arguments for the existence of God in Part 2 of the book. In the chapter is entitled, “The Clues of God,” Keller denies that there are proofs for God, but argues that there are clues to God’s existence. This reminds me of Bavinck’s approach to the theistic arguments. Stephen R. Spencer in his very helpful thesis entitled: A Comparison and Evaluation of the Old Princeton and Amsterdam Apologetics argues on page 71: “Alexander, Hodge, Bavinck, and Van Til … make use of "theistic proofs," but their conception of the nature and value of them differs significantly. … Bavinck … reduces their value from that of valid proof to that of non-binding testimonies.”
This approach reflects, I think, to some extent the rejection by presuppositionalism of the theistic arguments as usually stated. (It’s likely that it also reflects the approach of Reformed epistemology about which I am not so enthusiastic, but more of this later.)
Keller’s presuppositionalism is also evident in his chapter-long claim that men already know that God exists. This is point-blank presuppositionalism and right on the money. Here is how Keller introduces that chapter. “In the next chapter I want to do something very personal. I don’t want to argue why God may exist. I want to demonstrate that you already know that God does exist.” (142) This is Van Til’s claim that men know God stated in a straightforward and unvarnished form!
Before I come to some of the things about Tim Keller’s The Reason for God which I do not appreciate quite so much, let me quickly point to several more things which I really do admire.
First, I admire the obvious devotion to this subject and to communicating Christianity to his contemporaries which Keller’s book manifests. It is clear that years of dedicated work lie behind it. This is shown in the scholarship of the book. There are a plethora of illustrations from contemporary culture which Keller uses to communicate his points. C. S. Lewis, The Lord of the Rings, well-known existentialists, and many others populate his pages with pointed illustrations of the issues with which he is dealing.
Second, and this is related, all of this gives an obvious sense of relevance to what he is saying to the unbelievers surrounding him in New York. This is calculated to engage them in discussion. This is something that Keller seems to have been able to do with great success over the years of his ministry there.
Third, and I suppose I am saying this more as a writer than anything else, I admire the way in which Keller is able to be so contemporary, relevant, and interesting without forfeiting a generally presuppositional and theological approach. It is easy, I think, to allow a desire for relevance to make one woolly-headed and really fuzzy theologically. Keller has avoided this and deserves credit as a writer and theologian for doing so.
Criticisms
It is necessary now to mention a few things that I do not like about Keller’s book. I hope I have made clear in the aforegoing commendations that I do have a deep appreciation for what Keller has accomplished in this volume. Though Keller is certainly a hero to not a few in our day, yet no one is above criticism–not our heroes from the past and not heroes from the present.
My first and preeminent concern with Keller’s work is how he deals with the question of evolution. It will assist the readers’ understanding of what I have to say here if I divide my remarks into three parts.
What does Keller say?
Why does he say it?
What do I think of it?
What does Keller say?
First, Keller clearly affirms the miraculous. He begins chapter six, “Science Has Disproved Christianity,” by addressing the question, Aren’t Miracles Scientifically Impossible? He affirms that Christianity has as an essential tenet that God does miracles and that the denial of miracles is merely an article of faith in the skeptic’s creed and not something science has proved. (85-86)
Second, he affirms that many Christians believe (including the Catholic Church) that God brought about life through the process of evolution. (87)
Third, he affirms that holding evolution “as a process” does not entail holding the “philosophical naturalism” which says that evolution explains absolutely everything about human beings. (87)
Fourth, he affirms that the literary genre of Genesis 1 is poetic, while Genesis 2 “is an account of how it happened.” (94) In context this seems to mean that Genesis 2 is to be taken in a more literal fashion.
Fifth, he affirms the original goodness of creation. “The Bible tells us that God did not originally make the world to have disease, hunger, and death in it.” (96)
Why does he say it?
The five affirmations which Keller makes about evolution are, I think, quite random. They certainly leave unanswered many questions that we might have about what he believes on this subject. It seems clear to me that Keller’s interest in these quite random responses is not to address in any detail the issue of evolution. It is rather and simply to say enough so that the person with prejudices against Christianity would not make evolution into a conversation-stopper. Keller does not want the theory of evolution to derail the evangelistic discussion and sidetrack the conversation from the core of the gospel.
I understand and sympathize with Keller’s purpose here, if I am right about what he is doing. I teach as an adjunct in the religion department of a United Methodist college. The students I teach are not as liberal here in Kentucky as they might be in another part of our country. But they are not for the most part Christians. They ask me questions which I would rather not answer at a certain stage in my effort to present Christianity to them. What I want to do in those situations is say enough to allay their prejudices and help keep them focused on what they really need to be thinking about. So I really do understand and appreciate, I think, Keller’s motives. This does not mean, however, that I agree with his approach to this issue. Now I must ‘fess up and answer the question, What do I think of it?
What do I think of it?
I said above that I find Keller’s comments in this section of his book “random.” He is not, I think, intent on giving any clear account of his own views of this subject. He is aware that some Christian readers may find his approach unsatisfactory and toward the end of this chapter tries to clear things up a little for us. I am not sure that what he says helps me. Here it is:
“Indeed I am sure that many reading this will be irritated that I don’t take time to adjudicate between the competing views. For the record I think God guided some kind of process of natural selection, and yet I reject the concept of evolution as All-encompassing Theory.” He then cites David Atkinson’s remark that “there is little reason for conflict between the implications of Christian belief in the Creator and the scientific explorations of the way which–at the level of biology–God has gone about his creating processes.” (94-95)
I have to admit that I find all this confusing and troubling. Here are my questions: Does Keller think that Genesis 2 is a literal/narrative account of the origin of the human race? He seems to say so on the very same page, but then how can he open the door for the biological evolution of the human race in his quotation from Atkinson? Is Keller really serious in limiting a figurative reading of Genesis to only chapter 1? While I adopt a literal reading of Genesis 1 personally for exegetical reasons, I am willing to admit that it is legitimate to raise the question of literary genre about any passage of Scripture–as long as we allow Scripture itself and not extra-scriptural considerations to determine our conclusions about literary genre. If one really could limit a poetic reading of Genesis solely to the first chapter, while maintaining a literal reading of Genesis 2 and forward, I could admit as well that it would not destroy the system of doctrine taught in Scripture. I am not willing to call those who hold a framework hypothesis of Genesis 1 heretics or willy-nilly conclude that they overthrow the faith.
Nevertheless, I have to say that it is a dangerous and confusing tactic that Keller is using. I think that the idea of the biological evolution of the human race is radically inconsistent with the presentation of redemptive history given in Scripture. I do not think that any reading of the clearest chronological statements of Scripture is consistent with a human race that is, say, even a million years old.
Keller’s main interest, it seems to me, is also stated on the same page 94 I have already cited a couple of times. He says, “The skeptical inquirer does not need to accept any one of these positions in order to embrace the Christian faith. Rather, he should concentrate on and weigh the central claims of Christianity. Only after drawing conclusions about the person of Christ, the resurrection, and the central tenets of the Christian message should one think through the various options with regard to creation and evolution.”
While Keller’s zeal for the gospel of Christ and the salvation of the sinner is commendable, this statement raises serious questions. Can we really present Christ apart from the backdrop of what the Bible teaches about creation? Is a Christ that is consistent with theistic evolution really the biblical Christ? If Christ is the last Adam, isn’t a non-literal reading of the first Adam destructive of the very identity and saving work of Christ? At some point the worldview against which the gospel is presented does begin to affect the gospel. I can as a creationist agree that someone should first accept Christ and only in light of that decide about the literary genre of Genesis 1. I can even understand why someone might say, first accept Christ, and then decide, for instance, what he teaches about the identity and role of women in the church. I really do not think we can say, or that it is beneficial to say, first decide for Christ, and then make up your mind about the biological evolution of the human race. The creation of the human race by God is the backdrop of the redemption of the human race by Christ. The two stand or fall together.
Another point at which I find Keller’s defense of the faith a little troubling is in Chapter Twelve, “The (True) Story of the Cross.” In this chapter Keller attempts, I think, to defend the concept of substitionary sacrifice to the unbeliever by illustrating it from human experience. He argues, first, that “Real Forgiveness Is Costly Suffering.” (187) Here Keller argues that to forgive means that in some sense we bear the cost of the person’s offense against us. He argues, second, “Real Love Is a Personal Exchange.” (193) That is to say, “In the real world of relationships it is impossible to love people with a problem or a need without in some sense sharing or even changing places with them. All real life-changing love involves some form of this kind of exchange.” (193)
Perhaps there is apologetic value in these kinds of illustrations of the substitionary sacrifice, but as clear accounts of what Christ did on the cross they fall far short of a clear account of substitionary curse-bearing. If I read them simply as illustrations, I find Keller’s observations interesting and perhaps helpful. If I read them as accurate explanations of the cross, I find them deficient. At best Keller’s illustrations are dim and finally inadequate human reflections of substitution.
Contributing to this fuzziness is Keller’s citation of N. T. Wright at a key point in this chapter (196). The real nature of Wright’s own theory of the atonement has been widely questioned. [Cf. John Piper’s discussion of Wright’s view of the atonement in The Future of Justification (Wheaton: Crossway, 2007), 46-53, for a very generous assessment of Wright which nonetheless underscores the uncertainty surrounding his view of the atonement.] Keller’s citation of Wright and his idea that the cross involves a reversal of the world’s values reminds me of non-violent theories of the cross coming out of the Anabaptist pacifist tradition.
We do, of course, have to remember that Keller is doing apologetics not writing systematics for Christians. Nevertheless, there is a slippery slope in apologetics by which our attempt to illustrate Christianity to unbelievers subtly becomes our whole understanding of Christianity. Did the Apologists in the 2nd and Origen in the 3rd century intend to teach subordinationism and finally create Arianism by adopting the logos speculation of Greek philosophy? No. But that is what happened when their partial illustrations were taken as whole explanations.
Though I find William Dennison’s review of Keller too “all or nothing,” I do not entirely blame him for writing the following:
“Although one will find the terminology of the satisfaction view of atonement scattered throughout Keller’s presentation, it would seem that Keller is advocating more directly the moral theory of the atonement. Hence, the reader should not be surprised that the justice achieved by Christ on the cross is a restoration of the social order of human activity (196-197). Ironically, I am skeptical whether the reader will find an exposition of the penal substitutionary work of Christ’s atonement as taught in the Reformed confessions in Keller’s presentation of the “true” story of the cross. In my estimation, Keller’s exposition appears dangerously close to Horace Bushnell’s moral theory on the atonement, which was assessed and critiqued correctly by Charles Hodge.” [This review may be found on the internet athttp://www.opc.org/os.html?.
Is this perhaps a little too harsh? Yes, probably. Does Keller’s argumentation lay him open up to just such misunderstanding? Yes, I think it does.
I do not want to unsay what I said about this being a great book by multiplying criticisms of Keller’s work. But let me briefly mention a couple of further criticisms upon which I will not expand.
Let me just say, first, that I think he is confused (like many others today) about forgiveness. To be specific, I think he confuses love and a forgiving spirit with actual forgiveness. (187-193) In the Bible–believe it or not–forgiveness is conditioned on repentance (Luke 17:3-4).
Let me also warn the unwary reader that Keller’s apologetic is heavily influenced by the views of Reformed Epistemology and Alvin Plantinga. Note the extensive list of subjects under Plantinga’s name in the index (290-91). There are similarities between Reformed Epistemology and Presuppositionalism. I think of Plantinga’s claim that the existence of God may be treated as “properly basic.” On the other hand, there are also significant differences. I think Plantinga’s more philosophical spirit and approach departs from the more biblical approach of presuppositionalism in significant respects. Kelly James Clark, a cohort of Plantinga and defender of his Reformed epistemology, claims, for instance, that there is no “biblical” apologetics or epistemology. [Five Views of Apologetics (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000), 274-275] If I understand this claim aright, it directly contradicts key features of presuppositionalism. So also does Clark’s assertion that “We simply cannot, this side of the grave, obtain religious certainty” (Five Views of Apologetics, 366).
Conclusion
Let me draw this assessment of Keller’s book to a close.
The history of the church exhibits two distinct tendencies with regard to its relation to the world. On the one hand, there are those who take the responsibility to engage the world with the gospel as uppermost. On the other hand, there are those who take the responsibility of preserving the faith as primary. Of course, both these tendencies are legitimate. Furthermore, they are not contradictory. Yet, history shows that these two approaches to the church’s relation to the world often give birth to quite different viewpoints.
An early illustration of this is provided by the contrast between the Apologists and Irenaeus in the mid to late second century. The Apologists were concerned to explain and defend the Christian faith to the Gentiles. To this end they adopted the logos speculation of Greek philosophy to explain the Trinity. They did this because Christians had a difficult problem with regards to their doctrine of God. They held together several tenets that were difficult to make sense of to the average Gentile. First, they held that there was only one God. Second, they held that Christ was God. Third, they held that the Father was God. Fourth, they held that Christ was not the Father. How do you explain the seeming contradiction in holding all these tenets to the typical Greek?
To explain this seeming contradiction to Gaius the Greek, the Apologists’ borrowed an idea from Greek philosophy called the logos speculation. According to Greek philosophy the supreme being was so remote or transcendent on the scale of being that he was incapable of coming into meaningful contact with the world. The solution to the problem of this radically transcendent supreme being was to speculate that an intermediate being called the logos existed by which the supreme being was mediated to the world. The Apologists’ task was facilitated by the Apostle John’s use of Logos to describe Christ in John 1:1. The Apologists and their Logos Christology became a popular method of presenting Christian doctrine in the second and third century.
In contrast to traveling apologists and evangelists like Justin Martyr, Irenaeus was the bishop of the church in Lyons. Irenaeus represents the opposite tendency. His favorite name for Christ was the Son. He did not make much use of the logos speculation. His major concern was to protect the church and its doctrine from the eroding effects of Gnosticism. He represents the felt need to protect the church and its doctrine from the world.
Now both impulses (the impulse to engage the world and the impulse to protect the church from the world) are, as I said, legitimate. But the later history of the Logos Christology is instructive. In adopting the logos speculation the Apologists and later Origen also unwittingly brought into the orbit of Christian doctrine ideas that were both alien and profoundly destructive. The idea of the supreme being as radically transcendent and the logos as intermediate being led directly to Origen’s subordinationism in the third century, and then to Arianism in the fourth.
My point is that there can be such an urgency to be relevant to and engage the world with the truth of the gospel that the truth of the gospel is compromised. I am afraid that in his fine book Keller has not wholly avoided this tendency.
Abraham Kuyper was an apologist for the Christian faith. He certainly believed in engaging the world. His stint as prime minister of the Netherlands and his founding of the Free University of Amsterdam prove this. In another sense, however, he was the anti-apologist. One reason was that he had profound suspicions about the impulse to make the truth understandable and relevant to the world which he saw in some apologists and their apologetics. Is Kuyper right? I think we must seriously consider his views as we evaluate Keller. Perhaps I may let Kuyper have the last word about Keller:
“There is no doubt then that Christianity is imperiled by great and serious dangers. Two life systems are wrestling with one another, in mortal combat. Modernism is bound to build a world of its own from the data of the natural man, and to construct man himself from the data of nature; while, on the other hand, all those who reverently bend the knee to Christ and worship Him as the Son of the living God, and God himself, are bent upon saving the ‘Christian Heritage.’ This is the struggle in Europe, this is the struggle in America, and this also, is the struggle for principles in which my own country is engaged, and in which I myself have been spending all my energy for nearly forty years. In this struggle Apologetics have advanced us not one single step. Apologists have invariably begun by abandoning the assailed breastwork, in order to entrench themselves cowardly in a ravelin behind it.
From the first, therefore, I have always said to myself, -”If the battle is to be fought with honor and with a hope of victory, then principle must be arrayed against principle; then it must be felt that in Modernism the vast energy of an all-embracing life-system assails us, then also it must be understood that we have to take our stand in a life-system of equally comprehensive and far-reaching power. And this powerful life-system is not to be invented nor formulated by ourselves, but is to be taken and applied as it presents itself in history. When thus taken, I found and confessed, and I still hold, that this manifestation of the Christian principle is given us in Calvinism. In Calvinism my heart has found rest. From Calvinism have I drawn the inspiration firmly and resolutely to take my stand in the thick of this great conflict of principles. And therefore, when I was invited most honorably by your Faculty to give the Stone-Lectures here this year, I could not hesitate a moment as to my choice of subject. Calvinism, as the only decisive, lawful, and consistent defense for Protestant nations against encroaching, and overwhelming Modernism, -this of itself was bound to my theme.” [Abraham Kuyper, Lectures on Calvinism (Grand Rapids: Associated Publishers and Authors Inc., n. d.), 8.]
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