A Review of Jack Wilkie’s “Christ’s Co-Rulers: Understanding Christian Engagement”

On July 23, 2025 By Tyler BoydIn Christian's Relationship to Government

In recent years, Christian author, podcaster and Focus Press online content director Jack Wilkie (hereafter JW) has written extensively on the intersection of faith and political engagement. In the fall of 2024, he compiled many of these writings into his book Christ’s Co-Rulers: Understanding Christian Political Engagement. This review aims to summarize the book’s contents and critically evaluate its biblical foundations.

I have followed JW’s work for years and deeply respect him as a skilled writer and thinker. His 2020 book Church Reset: God’s Design for So Much More is a masterpiece, powerfully calling the church to reject modern consumerism and restore God’s design for a Christ-centered family of dedicated disciples. I enthusiastically recommend it at every opportunity. However, his more recent writings on Christian political engagement – well represented in this new book – take a different approach. Rather than restoring the New Testament vison of the kingdom of God as a powerful and influential body in its own right, Christ’s Co-Rulers exchanges that biblical model for a more modern framework rooted in trust in the legitimacy and potential of earthly kingdoms and their rulers. In this move away from a restorationist framework, I found Christ’s Co-Rulers significantly more problematic. That said, it is not without valuable insights and thoughtful reflections.

Summary

The preface of Christ’s Co-Rulers clearly sets forth the book’s objective: “to address the objections and correct the popular misunderstandings of the kingdom, lay out the game plan, and exhort the church to take up her task in the realm of politics.” Throughout the various essays in the book, JW explores his understanding of how Christians can and should engage in politics and culture, seeing this involvement as an expression of Christ’s reign over all aspects of life. The book challenges the notion that any and all forms of political participation necessarily serve as a distraction from spiritual duties, instead arguing that Christians have a responsibility to influence society with the values that align with God’s kingdom.

The introduction sets the stage by rejecting the dichotomy that Christians must choose between faith and politics. JW writes, “We can win souls and elections. God can care about the church and nations. We can align with a political party and trust in Jesus.” JW emphasizes that political engagement is not idolatry but an acceptable way to spread the blessings of Christ’s rule, urging Christians to see their participation as a “good and proper exercise of a God-given gift.”

The book is then divided into three chapters, with the first chapter dedicated to answering common objections raised against political involvement. For example, the chapter begins by examining John 18:36, where Jesus states, “My kingdom is not of this world,” a passage from which many Christians have concluded that they must not engage the world using the same methods as earthly kingdoms. JW argues that while Christ’s kingdom is spiritual in origin, it manifests itself in the world, and influences the world as it grows. This influence extends, argues JW, to all areas of life, including governance. He supports this by citing biblical examples of godly individuals – such as Jonah, Elijah, or Micaiah – who engaged rulers and influenced nations.

Addressing the concern of “putting trust in princes” (Psalm 146:3), JW clarifies that Christians can participate in politics without idolizing leaders or becoming overly anxious about political outcomes. JW’s vision of political involvement, grounded in trust in God, is further established by looking to scriptural examples, such as Nehemiah sharing his concerns about Jerusalem with the king, or Paul appealing to Caesar as examples of how Christians can and should engage political rulers. JW argues that the refrain “Jesus is on his throne” is wrongly used to justify political apathy rather than being understood as a call to faithfulness. He explores other passages as well, such as Jesus’s rejection of Satan’s temptations for power, the Sermon on the Mount, and passages addressing spiritual warfare, ultimately arguing that Christians are not to avoid power, but to pursue it with humility and righteousness. In summary, Chapter 1 of Christ’s Co-Rulers seeks to systematically dismantle objections to Christian political and cultural engagement, urging Christians to actively reflect God’s authority in all aspects of life, while remaining grounded in spiritual trust and biblical principles.

Chapter 2, “A Political Kingdom” builds on the foundation laid in the first chapter, further exploring the relationship between Christianity and cultural, societal, and political engagement. The chapter begins by addressing how Christians should interpret the book of Revelation, pointing to passages such as Revelation 7:13-14 to emphasize Christ’s victory at his ascension and challenges Christians to see His kingdom as already reigning with societal implications. The discussion shifts to the church’s role in society, arguing that Christians should neither disengage from culture, nor embrace extreme and obviously problematic forms of Christian nationalism. JW instead argues for what he believes is a more balanced view, where Christians seek to advance God’s kingdom through societal and governmental influence, without conflating those efforts with nationalistic idolatry.

Chapter 3 of Christ’s Co-Rulers explores practical ways that Christians can actively make a difference in the world through righteous political engagement. JW emphasizes the importance of recognizing the times and wisely discerning the cultural shifts around us. He calls for Christians to move beyond simplistic slogans, and to boldly proclaim the truth, even when the truth results in division. JW stresses a critical commitment to both prayer and action, challenging Christians to take responsibility for the moral decline apparent in society. JW emphasizes the need to stand firm on moral truths, particularly on political matters such as abortion and gay marriage, warning against the dangers of abstention in elections. Ultimately, JW views patriotism as an expression of love for one’s neighbor. The book concludes with a thought-provoking essay which offers practical steps for Christians to positively influence their communities, churches, and families.

Overall, JW’s approach advocated in Christ’s Co-Rulers builds on a specific view of how God’s Kingdom should relate to and utilize the powers of earthly kingdoms that has become mainstream in modern evangelical Christianity. JW consistently emphasizes Christ’s ultimate Lordship over the world. While he recognizes that not all society recognizes and submits to his reign, he views Christ’s kingdom as gaining ground when little by little the structures of society begin to reflect godly values. While JW recognizes that political involvement can extend to problematic or even idolatrous extremes, he is always careful to emphasize that he is arguing for a more balanced approach.

At various points in the book, JW does attempt to engage with opposing viewpoints who take issue with Christians voting, occupying political office, or refusing to involve themselves in the public square, but the book rarely develops the logic behind such rival positions. In several instances, the book seems to reduce his opponent’s positions to flimsy bumper sticker statements, rather than confronting their arguments in the more developed forms which his opponents would actually present them. The implication seems to be that if Christians simply understood the significance of Christ’s reign the way JW does, they would reject the ridiculous arguments of his opponents and embrace the Church’s clear responsibility to mobilize for greater political influence. The most common objection against refusing earthly political activity is that he views such refusal as empty pietism, or even neo-Gnosticism. JW believes that if more believers would recognize all the good that has come because of Christian engagement in politics throughout the centuries, perhaps Christians would more readily embrace their responsibility to confront the moral issues in society through political influence.

Assessment

This book covers a lot of ground and floats a lot of ideas and arguments, some convincing and others not so much. My assessment will highlight five points of affirmation, and five quite significant reservations. If it seems like I am more critical than sympathetic, it’s probably because I am. I fear the arguments put forth in this book fall short on biblical grounds, which is especially disappointing, because this is what makes many of JW’s other writings shine.

Affirmations

Despite some significant differences, it is evident that we are strongly aligned on several key issues.

1. His Caution Against Political Idolatry

To begin, I couldn’t agree more with JW’s warning that earthly politics should not be the only or even the primary way for Christians to influence the world. Although JW’s book was compiled to make the case that involvement in politics is acceptable, he cautions against it becoming idolatrous or consuming one’s attention. In the introduction, JW cautions,

One can become inordinately focused on or involved in politics at the expense of more pressing issues… I do not believe politics is the only way we can impact the world, or even the foremost way.

Regardless of disagreements Christians may have on the question of how Christians should get involved in earthly politics, this is an important truth that must be remembered by all. Unfortunately, there are many out there who do become so enamored with party politics that it does become idolatrous, consuming all their attention. I am grateful that JW recognized this danger and cautioned Christians against it.

2. His Affirmation of the Nonviolent, Present, and Impactful Nature of Christ’s Kingdom

JW is also right to affirm Christ’s kingdom is meant to be established through peaceful means, such as evangelism and discipleship, rather than through violence or coercion. While I differ with JW on the question of how Christ’s rule is exercised and implemented in the world, with JW emphasizing Christians ruling through government, as opposed to highlighting the role of humility and suffering (more on this below in my reservations), JW is right to emphasize that Christ’s rule and influence should have a real-world impact.

In Chapter 1.1, “My Kingdom is Not of This World” JW writes,

We can’t take “not of this world” to mean “not in this world.” It literally means “not from here,” as we can see at the end of the verse. Jesus was saying that his kingdom does not originate from among wicked men, but is divine… His conquest was not going to be accomplished by letting his disciples fight for territory and control. He explicitly stopped Peter from doing that.

He goes on further to write,

So the Kingdom of Christ does not grow at the point of the sword as Islam and so many others have attempted. Its invasions are peaceful invasions, accomplished by missionaries rather than soldiers, with the message that ‘No matter how many of us you kill, we will continue sending wave after wave of Gospel proclaimers in love for your souls and obedience to Christ.

Not only that, but JW rightly emphasizes that Jesus’s reign is active, present, and universal, rather than something we merely hope for in the future (cf. Matthew 12:28-29; Revelation 11:15).

With that in mind, I appreciate JW’s emphasis on the many ways the gospel’s influence has brought about real-world blessings, such as levels of safety and prosperity “the likes of which the world has never seen” (Chapter 1.7 “Stuck in the First Century”).

While I believe JW is mistaken in the way he imagines the power of Christ’s Kingdom manifesting itself through worldly political structures, I appreciate JW’s continual emphasis that Christ’s kingdom is real and present now. While I do believe his book lacks important nuance in how Christ reigns over the world, this does not undermine the fundamental strength of his powerful affirmation of Christ’s current rule.

3. His Insistence that Christianity is More Than Private Devotion

Related to the above point, JW also rightly rejects empty pietism. JW defines “pietism” as the belief that “the Christian’s only duty is their own private walk with God” (Ch. 1.5 “The Oft Abused Sermon on the Mount”), or the reduction of Christianity to a “purely spiritual pursuit” (Ch. 2.2 “Should the Church Strive for Influence?”). His chapter on “Prayer Then Action” (Ch. 3.2) rightly highlights that both are essential aspects of faithful Christian living. His use of Queen Esther as an example (cf. Esther 4:10-17) serves as a powerful reminder of how reliance on God through prayer must lead to courageous and tangible steps of obedience.

Moreover, many of the recommendations made in the final essay in the book (Ch. 3.15, “20 Practical Ways You Can Make the World a Better Place”) strongly align with biblical wisdom, especially with their emphasis on personal discipline, spiritual growth, strong family life, and the emphasis he places on encouraging others through hospitality, encouragement, strong relationships, and service. I greatly appreciate JW’s stance against empty pietism. In fact, it is my confidence in the “real world” nature of Christianity that stands behind my primary critiques of the book (see below).

4. His Willingness to Speak Biblical Truth on Controversial Moral Issues

JW also rightly affirms godly positions on several moral issues which have been at the center of several political debates in recent years. His chapters on abortion (Ch. 3.9), gay marriage (Ch. 3.10), gambling, drugs, alcohol, and pornography (Ch. 3.11) are all excellent, laying out strong biblical arguments. In regards to these issues, I appreciate JW’s call to speak the truth boldly, even when it is controversial or divisive. This approach is consistent with Jesus’s teachings (Matthew 10:34) and Paul’s exhortation to preach the word in season and out of season (2 Timothy 4:1-4). When it comes to these moral issues, JW rightly contends that Christians have a moral obligation to address biblical truths on controversial topics (Ch. 3.6, “Divided by Politics”). While we must be careful to do this in a way that aligns with the pattern set forth by Christ, JW’s fundamental conviction that Christians must stand for truth is to be applauded.

5. His Ability to Ask Thoughtful Questions

Finally, I greatly appreciated the way JW raised some important questions. In my opinion, one of JW’s greatest strengths as an author is his ability to clearly and precisely articulate thought-provoking questions, encouraging careful examination of important biblical texts. This strength of his is evident throughout the book.

In the introduction, JW introduces the fundamental question of the book, “Is caring about politics a diversion from kingdom work? Does a Christian have to choose [between being a faithful Christian and caring about politics]?”

Then in Chapter 1.2 (“Are We Putting Our Trust in Princes?”) JW presses for a careful definition of what exactly it means to “put our trust in princes.” Does this mean that God is indifferent to elections and their consequences? Does this mean that we should not expect anything positive to come from the political realm? What should we do with texts from Proverbs that speak of kings ruling wisely (cf. Prov. 8:15-16; 20:28; 29:14)? What should we do with Romans 13, which speaks of God using the governing authorities as His ministers for good, or Paul’s appeal to Caesar in Acts 25:11? Was Paul “trusting in princes”?

In Chapter 1.5, (“The Oft Abused Sermon on the Mount”) JW raises the question “Where does God hold magistrates to the Sermon on the Mount?” After all, JW rightly observes, Romans 13:3-4 explicitly teaches that God appoints authorities as his ministers to execute justice against the wicked. He also raises the question about how the Sermon on the Mount should be read in light of the rest of the Bible, including the seemingly God-approved acts of violence in the Old Testament, and Jesus’s flipping of the tables in the temple.

While JW affirms that “Our war is not against flesh and blood” (Eph. 6:12; 2 Cor. 10:3-4), he raises the important question, “Do [these verses] mean that voting is a carnal weapon and that resisting Godless leadership is trying to war against flesh and blood?” (Ch. 1.6).

These are important questions that need to be asked, and I appreciate that JW’s book pushes them to the forefront of our thoughts. There is nothing wrong with asking critical questions such as “Does this text really mean what we assume it means?” or “Does God really intend for this text to be applied in this particular way in this particular circumstance?” If we really want to understand and apply the teachings of Scripture rightly, these are questions we must be asking.

With that said, I did find JW’s ways of resolving his own questions unsatisfactory in many regards. In fact, I found myself thinking of many more questions of my own as I wrestled my way through his book. But for now, I want to emphasize that I greatly appreciate the questions themselves.

Reservations

As I worked through my electronic copy of Christ’s Co-Rulers I filled almost every page with a plethora of personal notes: “Great point!” “Important truth.” “I disagree.” “Interesting thought, but needs important nuance.” “Strawman argument.” Etc. Rather than attempting to critique every aspect of the book line by line, which would require a long series of articles, I’ll touch on just a few of the most significant areas where I found JW’s book to be problematic from a biblical perspective.

1. Misreading Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2

My first reservation is quite significant. I believe that JW misunderstands and misapplies Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2, and this core difference helps explain why JW and I arrive at such different conclusions on several points.

Beginning in the introduction, JW writes “Wanting a government that punishes the wicked (Romans 13:2-4) and rewards the good (1 Peter 2:14) does not mean you don’t care about [Christ’s] kingdom.” Then in chapter 1.2 (“Are We ‘Putting Our Trust in Princes’”) JW suggests that when governments wield the sword, they are doing “what Romans 13 tells them to do.” Similarly, in chapter 2.2, JW writes that “When governments execute laws in accordance with God’s will because they are ministers of God commissioned to do exactly that (Romans 13:1-5; 1 Peter 2:13-14), it’s actually a good thing.” Other similar quotes could be cited, but over and over again, it is evident that JW understands Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 as “commanding” or “commissioning” government authorities to rule in a particular way, that is, to use the sword to punish evil, and to reward the good.

JW is not the first to read and apply these texts in this way. But it is not correct, and it does not demonstrate a careful reading of the texts in their contexts. First, it must be observed that neither Romans 13 or 1 Peter 2 was written to governing authorities. They were written to Christians about how God uses governing authorities. This distinction is critical. Paul and Peter were not giving instructions to rulers about how they ought to govern; they were instructing Christians on how to relate to all those whom God has arranged into positions of authority.

Moreover, these passages do not present an idealized vision of government in which rulers are supposed to uphold justice in a godly manner, if only they would submit to God’s will. Rather, they describe how God sovereignly uses even wicked and rebellious rulers to accomplish His good purposes – a theme found throughout Scripture.

Paul wrote Romans under the rule of Nero, one of the most infamously cruel emperors in history. Yet Paul states in Romans 13:1 that “there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God.” Paul was certainly not suggesting that Nero was out there consciously submitting to God’s moral will. Rather he was emphasizing that even the worst rulers, such as the Roman emperor, his bureaucracy, and his military leaders, are still under His authority. This aligns with and builds on what Paul wrote earlier in the letter, in Romans 8, where Paul teaches that all things – including all kinds of wicked things that come from wicked rulers, such as tribulation, persecution, and sword – work together for the good of those who love him. This also helps explain why Paul would include these teachings as an extension of how Christians should relate to their enemies – for the Roman authorities were chief among the enemies of Christianity in Rome.

Paul goes on to say in Romans 13:3-4 that rulers “are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad” and that the ruler is “God’s servant for your good.” If taken as a prescriptive command – meaning that rulers “ought” to always punish evil and reward the good – this would contradict both history and Scripture, which repeatedly show rulers doing the opposite (e.g. Pharaoh in Exodus, Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel, and even Nero himself). Instead, Paul is making a descriptive statement, that even when rulers are corrupt, they still function under God’s providence to maintain order and accomplish his ultimate purposes.

Paul was not innovating a completely new theology of how God views and uses earthly authorities. This understanding was already established even before Paul wrote Romans. For example, in Isaiah 10:5, God calls the wicked Assyrian king “The rod of my anger” – not because Assyria was righteous, but because God was using even a sinful ruler to accomplish His will, carrying out his punishments against the wicked. Similarly, in Habakkuk 1:6, God raises up the Chaldeans, a violent and unjust people, to carry out His judgment.

Similar observations can and should be made about 1 Peter 2 :13-14 where Peter exhorts Christians to “be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution.” Again, as in Romans 13, this is a command directed at Christians, not rulers. The reason for this submission is not because earthly rulers govern justly, but “for the Lord’s sake,” that is, because God is ultimately in control. This theme continues in 1 Peter 2:21-23, where Peter points to Christ as the ultimate model of submission, even in the face of unjust suffering.

The fundamental flaw in JW’s interpretation is that he reads Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 as prescriptive mandates for how governments ought to rule, rather than as descriptive truths about how God sovereignly rules through those governing authorities – whether good or evil. The idea that Christians should advocate for governments to wield the sword “as ministers of God” misunderstands the text’s purpose, and implies that these authorities would fail in their role as ministers of God if they do not respect Christ’s authority and willingly submit to his rule. If such were the case, we would expect the text to also include instructions for how Christians should wisely discern which rulers deserve to be submitted to, and which ones should be opposed. Rather than teaching Christians to make such wise discernments, the text is clear: “There is no authority except from God” (Rom. 13:1); “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution” (1 Pet. 2:13).

Nowhere do these passages command believers to shape government policies; rather they encourage Christians to trust in God’s sovereignty, even under the most wicked and oppressive rulers. We express our trust in God’s sovereignty, not by standing in opposition to wicked rulers, but by following the example of Christ, who submitted even to their most unjust cruelty (cf. 1 Peter 2:18-25).

Because JW views Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 as prescriptive for how governments should rule, he fears the consequences Christians will endure if governments do not live up to this standard. JW writes, “Yes, elections have consequences – consequences that grow heavier all the time as postmodernism fails and we race to see whose ‘truth’ is going to win out.” Do elections have consequences? Sure. But the beauty of Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 is that because of God’s sovereignty, we can trust that God will see to it that the consequences ultimately work out for the good of his faithful children. This distinction is crucial because it shifts the focus away from earthly political activism aimed at making governments fulfill a biblical role and instead places it where the apostles intended – on Christian faithfulness and submission, even in the midst of unjust rule.

2. The Softening of Strong Biblical Warnings

Similarly, several other passages referenced throughout the book fail to receive the careful attention and contextual examination they warrant. A prime example appears in chapter 1.2, “Are We Putting Our Trust in Princes,” where JW turns to his misunderstanding of texts like Romans 13 and 1 Peter 2 in an attempt to compartmentalize the warning of Psalm 146:3. Rather than wrestling with the psalm’s clear warning against placing trust in human rulers, JW subtly reframes it as a mere caution against having too much political anxiety. The result is a domesticated interpretation that reduces the psalm’s forceful admonition into little more than advice about maintaining a healthy balance between political engagement and personal spiritual disciplines like Bible study, prayer, and church involvement.

Psalm 146:3 warns against putting trust in princes – human political leaders – in those areas where our trust rightly belongs to God alone. For instance, in 1 Samuel 8, when the Israelites were dissatisfied with God’s rule, they demanded a king to fight their battles for them. To ask for a king to fight their battles expressed a lack of trust in God’s kingship and their belief that a human ruler could provide greater security and success in battle. God’s response through Samuel warned them that a human king would lead to oppression and disappointment, but they “trusted in princes” anyway.

Later in Israel’s history, King Ahaz of Judah faced the threat of invasion by Syria and Israel. Rather than trusting in the Lord, Ahaz turned to Assyria for protection, offering silver and gold from the temple as a tribute (2 Kings 16:7-9; Isaiah 7). Isaiah warned Ahaz to trust in the LORD’s deliverance, but Ahaz chose political alliances over faith. This pattern of misplaced trust continued when Judah faced a threat from Assyria. Rather than relying on God, they looked to Egypt’s military for help. Isaiah rebuked them for this misplaced trust (2 Kings 17:4-6; 2 Chronicles 36:13). Similarly, Ezekiel warned that Egypt was a broken reed and would fail those who leaned on it (Ezekiel 29:6-7).

Within this Old Testament context, it becomes clear that “putting your trust in princes” involves far more than simply becoming overly anxious about the political powers or failing to maintain healthy balance between political engagement and spiritual devotion – though it certainly would include these concerns. At its core, this phrase refers to the deep error of relying on earthly rulers for security, deliverance, or victory in battles that ultimately belong to the Lord. It includes forming alliances with worldly powers in the hope of achieving greater success against God’s enemies. Yet this is precisely the trajectory JW’s book encourages when it urges Christians to engage in various culture wars by partnering with political structures and earthly authorities – a move that, according to Scripture, repeatedly leads to compromise and disappointment.

Other examples abound. For instance, JW appeals to Proverbs to illustrate “wise rulership,” treating those maxims as a handbook for modern politicians rather than recognizing that the Proverbs ultimately point to the Messiah himself – the perfect King whose wisdom and justice stand in stark contrast to every human ruler’s folly. Likewise, JW invokes the story of David and Goliath to argue that Christians need not always follow the Sermon on the Mount’s teaching on enemies – overlooking, however, that David’s victory is less a model for militant resistance than a testament to God’s deliverance through humble and confident faith. In each case, JW reframes biblical accounts meant to exalt God’s unique sovereignty as templates for worldly power struggle, rather than as demonstrations of the cross-shaped authority entrusted to Christ and his followers.

3. True Authority is Found in Sacrifice, Not Dominion

A third reservation is that JW’s tends to sideline the cross as the centerpiece of Christ’s authority. By suggesting in Chapter 1.4 (“Jesus Denied Power”) that Jesus’s post-resurrection exaltation vindicates the pursuit of worldly power, JW downplays what Scripture repeatedly affirms: the cross itself is “the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18-25). Throughout the New Testament, Jesus’s voluntary self-emptying and crucifixion are held up as the highest demonstration of true authority (Philippians 2:5-11). “The way of the cross” is not merely a prelude to glory but the very wisdom and might of God. Christ himself taught that genuine greatness is found not in lording it over others “as the Gentiles do” (Mark 10:42-45) – but in humble service and sacrificial love.

This misstep becomes especially apparent in JW’s reading of Revelation (Chapter 2.1, “Reading Revelation Right”). JW argues that because believers “reign with” the exalted Christ – going “from under the altar” (Revelation 6:9-11) to “enthroned with him” (Revelation 20:4) – Christians ought to exercise authority over the nations. Yet he overlooks the book’s stark contrast between imperial power and the Lamb’s paradoxical rule. Although Jesus bears the Lion’s title, He exercises his authority as the slain lamb (Revelation 5:6), revealing that his dominion is won by self-sacrifice, not by the sword.

Revelation’s imagery of the four horsemen (Conquest, War, Famine, and Death) and the beasts of chapters 11 and 13 vividly portray the world’s coercive, violent authority (cf. Revelation 11:7-8; 13:7). By contrast, those who share in the Lamb’s blood – and “do not love their lives even to death” – overcome evil through suffering, not force (Revelation 12:10-11). Their victory lies in following the Lamb “wherever he goes,” even following him to his death (Revelation 14:4; 12:11), rather than by forging earthly alliances.

Far from endorsing a co-rulership with Babylonian-style regimes, Revelation invites us into a kingdom that is sharply contrasted with earthly kingdoms, where true power is perfected in weakness, and where the slain Lamb reigns supreme over every throne of this world.

4. The Unresolved Tension of Coercive Power in the Peaceful Kingdom

A fourth reservation concerns JW’s failure to fully grapple with the implications of Christ’s peaceful kingdom. In chapter 1.1, JW begins on a promising note, rightly emphasizing that “[Jesus’s] conquest was not going to be accomplished by letting his disciples fight” and that “the kingdom of Christ does not grow at the point of the sword.” However, he quickly pivots away from this foundational truth and shifts the focus from advancing the gospel through peaceful means to advancing it through earthly political strategy. This creates a tension he never resolves: if Christ’s kingdom is not advanced by violence, how can Christians justify using the inherently coercive mechanism of state power to further it?

The heart of the issue is that every government policy is ultimately enforced by the power of the sword – by law, punishment, and, in extreme cases, the threat of death. JW never explains how this reality squares with the nonviolent principles upon which Christ built his kingdom. The Sermon on the Mount explicitly teaches practices like turning the other cheek, loving one’s enemies, and refusing to resist evil with violence (Matthew 5:38-48). These are not abstract ideas but commands meant to be lived out by Christ’s disciples. While JW raises thoughtful questions about these teachings in Chapter 1.5 (“The Oft Abused Sermon on the Mount”) – such as whether the Sermon applies to governing authorities or how it relates to Old Testament violence – he sidesteps the more pressing issue: how can followers of Jesus faithfully live out these commands while using political force against their enemies?

Certainly, there is nothing wrong with wrestling with questions about the meaning and proper application of the Sermon on the Mount, but raising them must never be used as a way to evade obedience to their intended meaning, or to dismiss those teachings as optional, only to be applied in certain situations where it seems wise in our own eyes to do so. Even if the Sermon on the Mount isn’t a blueprint for public policy, it remains the teaching of Christ himself about how his disciples should live in his kingdom. JW’s unwillingness to wrestle with how Christians can reconcile participation in systems that rely on coercion and violence while remaining faithful to the commands of Christ himself is a major omission. Faithful interpretation of the Sermon of the Mount does not mean only asking whether it applies to governments – it means asking how Christ’s radical call to peace and enemy-love must shape every sphere of a Christian’s life, including how they relate to political powers. To treat the Sermon as merely an ideal, or as optional in certain contexts is to risk undermining the intended radical nature of what it means to follow Christ.

5. The Portrayal of Gospel Centered Engagement as Neo-Gnosticism

Perhaps the most troubling aspect of Christ’s Co-Rulers is its repeated misrepresentation of non-partisan or non-power-seeking engagement as passive, ineffective, or even heretical. JW consistently frames the refusal to pursue secular political power as a form of “pietism,” “neo-Gnosticism,” or simply “doing nothing.” This framing appears most clearly in Chapter 1.2 (“Are We Putting Our Trust in Princes”) where he likens non-political Christians to someone trapped on a rooftop during a flood, refusing to get into a boat because “God will save me.” The implication is clear: those who decline participation in earthly politics are neglecting real-world responsibility in favor of naïve, escapist faith.

But where does this idea come from? Certainly not from Jesus. Christ had numerous opportunities to leverage earthly political power – whether in the wilderness with Satan, in the crowds who wished to make him king, or in his trial before Pilate – and he rejected every one of them. Would JW suggest that Jesus, in refusing those paths, was “doing nothing”? Nor does this view arise from the example of the early church. The apostles did not agitate for governmental reform or align themselves with state power, yet they turned the world upside down through the proclamation of the gospel, suffering, and self-sacrificial love. The book of Acts is not a story of passivity – it’s a story of a radical, Christ-shaped political engagement: an alternative form of politics rooted in the kingdom of God, not the kingdoms of men.

It is important to clarify here what I mean by “politics.” If politics refers only to the partisan system that continually contends to control the coercive power of the state, then yes, Christians can and should abstain. But if we define politics more broadly, as the patterns, values, and powers that influence and shape human society, then faithful discipleship to Jesus is deeply political. The church is not merely a religious body – it is a polis, a city set on a hill, an alternative and rival kingdom, called to teach and display an alterative way of life. The language of the New Testament is filled with political vocabulary – kingdom, gospel, law, justice, Lord, Messiah – not as metaphors, but as redefinitions of those terms. The gospel doesn’t call Christians to abandon politics but to practice a different kind of politics, one rooted in the reign of Christ, not Caesar. Abstaining from partisan strategies or the pursuit of political power is not an act of retreat, but an act of trust – a public display of confidence in the power of God’s way of organizing human life through Christ-like sacrificial love, obedience, and righteousness.

In truth, JW’s assumption that avoiding earthly political involvement equals inaction reflects not a biblical worldview, but a pagan one. In ancient paganism, both spiritual and earthly powers were tools to manipulate the world for desired outcomes. From that perspective, refusing to use the levers of political power when that power is within reach would seem like doing nothing. Like so much of modern Christianity, the influence of this pagan worldview can be traced back to the fourth-century emperor Constantine. After Constantine’s alleged conversion, Christians suddenly found themselves with access to significant state power. Within a few decades, the Church had become the official religion of the Roman Empire and following Rome’s collapse, a dominant state power for centuries to come. Catholic theologians, such as Eusebius and Augustine, interpreted this newfound power as a gift to the church by God. By means of political power, it was believed that the Church “militant and triumphant” would conquer the nations for Christ. Christ’s Co-Rulers represents a modern revival of this Constantinian legacy, which conflates worldly influence with faithfulness, and political victories with gospel success. In this way, the book embraces a paradigm that has shaped much of post-Constantinian Christianity, rather than restoring the radical, countercultural politics of the New Testament church.

Throughout the teachings and examples found in the New Testament, the kingdom of God does not advance through coercion, violence, or political maneuvering, but through the power of the gospel. To reject entanglement with earthly politics is not to withdraw from the world – it is to practice politics on God’s terms, trusting in His methods. Rather than ruling with Caesar, Jesus chose the cross.

The flipside of this concern is that JW’s rhetoric undermines the real-world power of the gospel. To be fair, JW explicitly denies this in the introduction, where he writes, “I do not believe political involvement is the only way we can impact the world, or even the foremost way.” He also ends the book with a list of practical ways to change the world – most of which do not involve earthly politics at all. These are commendable acknowledgments. But they are undercut by the broader thrust of his argument, in which he repeatedly characterizes gospel-centered engagement as inadequate. By labeling gospel-focused Christians as guilty of “empty pietism” or “neo-Gnosticism,” JW suggests – I believe unintentionally – that proclaiming Christ and living out Christ’s commands is somehow insufficient for combating evil in the world.

So which is it? Is preaching the gospel, baptizing the nations, and teaching them to obey the commands of Jesus the most powerful way to change the world – or is it “doing nothing”? If the gospel is truly “the power of God for salvation” (Romans 1:16), and if Christ’s way of overcoming evil is through doing good, and if love and truth are indeed effective in making a difference in the real world, then there is no basis for the charge of pietism. The problem is not that JW denies the gospel’s power with his words – it’s that he undermines it with his assumptions. And those assumptions – about earthly political action being the default mode of cultural engagement – go largely unexamined throughout the book.

In the end, JW must choose. If he truly believes the gospel is powerful, he cannot continue to belittle those who trust in it rather than the sword. But if he dismisses their convictions as impractical and irresponsible, he will inevitably shift the weight of Christian hope away from Christ and onto Caesar. And in so doing, he unwittingly redefines the very nature of the kingdom he claims to defend.

Final Thoughts

I began this essay by expressing my disappointment that Christ’s-Co Rulers departs from the restoration of New Testament Christianity. I said this because it is clear that the imitation of the way of Christ and the early church is not at the heart of this book. While the Lordship of Christ is certainly a prominent theme in the book, the implementation of his reign is framed in the tools of earthly kingdoms rather than in the way of the cross. The arguments rely heavily on dubious uses of proof texts, often divorced from their context, rather than on careful exegesis.

What is most striking is the near absence of the way of Christ as revealed in the Gospel – the path of suffering, submission, and self-giving love. The teaching of Christ and the apostles are mentioned but rarely allowed to shape the book’s vision in any substantive way. In the end, Christ’s Co Rulers does not call the church to imitate Christ in his path to the cross, but to mirror the power structures of the world. In that sense, a more fitting title might be Babylon’s Co-Rulers, for it aligns more closely with the logic of earthly kingdoms than with the kingdom of God.

That is not the restoration the church needs. It is a rebranding of the Constantinian compromise. If we are to be faithful to the kingdom Jesus proclaimed, we must reject the sword and embrace the cross – not just as a doctrine, but as the way we live, love, and yes, even engage in politics.

And yet, the vision of restoration is not entirely lost either. Christ’s Co-Rulers still invites us to carefully examine Scripture and to consider the real-world implications of Christ’s reign. Though the book is deeply flawed in its approach, perhaps it will nonetheless stir a renewed hunger in the church – one that leads us back to the beautiful, powerful, and world-reversing reign of Christ, embodied in the lives of faithful Christians.

When Christians Say “We”: Reclaiming the Language of Exiles

On April 13, 2025April 13, 2025 By Tyler BoydIn Kingdom Life

If asked, “Are you primarily a Christian who happens to live in America, or an American who happens to be a Christian?” most Christians I’ve met would quickly affirm the former: “I’m a Christian first.” After all, we know we are to “seek first the kingdom of God” (Matt. 6:33). We know that we, as follower of Christ, are “a holy nation” (1 Pet. 2:9), and that our “citizenship is in heaven” (Phi. 3:20). We affirm what Paul wrote in Colossians 3:11:

Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.

We intellectually affirm that our primary identity is in Christ, and not in our earthly country. And yet, I fear that the way we speak often tells a different story.

The Language of Earthly Citizenship

Though we confess heavenly citizenship, our default language – especially in cultural and political commentary – often reveals a deep-seated identification with our earthly nation.

For example, the following phrases are representative of the kind of comments Christians frequently make:

“Our nation is growing increasingly wicked”
“We’ve aborted 70 million of our own children!”
“We’ve taken prayer out of our schools.”
“We have bombed and killed countless people”
“We were founded as a Christian nation, but we have turned away from God”

Who is “we”? Who is “our”? Rarely are we referring to the people of God. These are not the “we” of the church, or the “our” of the kingdom of God. Instead, we are subconsciously speaking as Americans first and Christians second. The subtle linguistic habit, while seemingly harmless, reveals a much deeper, and far more serious issue of misplaced identity.

It’s not that we shouldn’t be grieved by the moral and spiritual decay around us. But when our primary identification is with our earthly nation rather than with God’s kingdom, our speech begins to reflect the allegiances of this world rather than the distinctiveness that should be characteristic of our “holy nation.” We sound more like citizens of Babylon lamenting its decline than exiles longing for Zion.

The Identity of Exiles

Compare this with the numerous Scriptural examples of how God’s people were careful to speak of themselves as foreigners. All throughout the pages of Scripture, God’s people refused to adopt the identity of their host nations. Instead, they spoke, thought, and acted as exiles – that is, as citizens of another kingdom.

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob

By faith [Abraham] went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land… For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God… These all died in faith… having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland… as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.
Hebrews 11:9-10; 13-16

Observe

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob lived in the promised land as if it were a foreign land.
They acknowledged that they were exiles
Their speech reflected their true identity, making it clear “that they were seeking a homeland.”
God honored them for this way of thinking and speaking

Moses

By faith Moses… refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God… for he was looking to the reward.
Hebrews 11:25-26

Observe:

Though Moses was legally part of Pharaoh’s household, he refused to think or speak of himself as an Egyptian.
Instead, Moses chose to identify himself with God’s people – an identity that brought suffering, but also brought a future reward

Daniel

Living in Babylon under foreign rule, Daniel and his companions continually stood apart through their commitment to God (Dan. 1, 3, 6) and were honored and exalted for it.

Daniel chapter 9 preserves Daniel’s great prayer of confession and intercession for his people. Note carefully his use of “we,” “our,” and “us”:

We have sinned and done wrong and acted wickedly and rebelled, turning aside from your commandments and rules. We have not listened to your servants the prophets, who spoke in your name to our kings, our princes, and our fathers, and to all the people of the land. To you, O Lord, belongs righteousness, but to us open shame.
Daniel 9:6-9

Daniel was not using “we,” “our,” and “us,” to refer to the sins of Babylon but to Israel. His language made it clear that even while living in another country, and serving under other rulers, his identity remained rooted in God’s covenant people.

Other Examples: Rahab, Ruth, Nehemiah, and Esther

Similar observations could be drawn from numerous other Old Testament examples. Rahab aligned herself with Israel over her own nation (Josh. 2; Heb. 11:31). Ruth, a Moabite, declared, “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16). Nehemiah, serving in the Persian court, confessed the sins of his people, Israel:

We have sinned against you… We have acted very corruptly against you and have not kept the commandments…
Nehemiah 1:6-7

Even Esther, living in Persian royalty, ultimately chose solidarity with God’s people, risking her life to save them (Esth. 4:16).

Jesus and the Apostles

Jesus was unambiguous about the identity of his followers in relation to the world:

I have given then your word, and the world has hated them because they are not of the world… They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. (John 17:14, 16)
John 17: 14, 16

My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.
John 18:36

Peter echoes this exile identity, explicitly referring to Christians as “sojourners” and “exiles”:

But you are a chose race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.
1 Peter 2:9-11

Paul, though free to enjoy all the rights and privileges afforded to him as a Roman citizen, continually emphasized that our true citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20). And John, in Revelation, issues a sharp warning to God’s people who align themselves with Babylon.

Come out of her [Babylon], my people,
lest you take part in her sins,
lest you share in her plagues;
for her sins are heaped as high as heaven,
and God has remembered her iniquities.
Revelation 18:4

Relearning Our Native Tongue

When Nehemiah returned to Jerusalem after a time away, he was dismayed to find that many of the Israelites had married foreign women. He was alarmed to discover that the children from these unions couldn’t even speak the language of Judah; instead they spoke the language of the surrounding nations.

In those days also I saw the Jews who had married women of Ashdod, Ammon, and Moab. And half of their children spoke the language of Ashdod, and they could not speak the language of Judah, but only the language of each people.
Nehemiah 13:24-25

This was more than an innocent linguistic issue. The problem was that their language was a sign of cultural erosion. They were quickly losing their distinct identity, and their language was a symptom.

Likewise, when the church forgets the language of the kingdom, our words reveal something troubling. When we instinctively say “we” rather than “they” in reference to America’s actions, we revel that our thinking has been shaped by a pagan culture rather than by our faith. If we truly believe our primary citizenship is in God’s heavenly kingdom, we must be intentional about reclaiming the language of exiles rather than that which primarily identifies us with an earthly nation.

If we are going to think like exiles, we must speak like them. Our language should always reflect our primary identity in Christ. That doesn’t mean we stop caring about the problems caused by earthly nations, but it does mean that we approach these concerns as exiles, as ambassadors of another kingdom (cf. 2 Cor. 5:20).

Try this: the next time you want to talk about how America has removed God from the public square, or how America has lost her moral compass, or how America is not protecting the sanctity of marriage – make the subtle, but intentional shift from saying “we” to saying “they.”

This small linguistic change can make a big impact. Not only do those who “speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland” (Heb. 11:14), but it trains our hearts to remember who we really are: strangers and exiles, citizens of a holy nation, distinct from any earthly kingdom.

So let us reclaim the language of exiles.

Let us speak, not as those whose future is tied to the fate of an earthly nation, but as those whose eyes are set on the city that has foundations, whose builder and maker is God.

What Kind of Power Do You Trust?

On November 1, 2024 By Tyler BoydIn Christian Living, Christian Non-Violence, Christian's Relationship to Government

At the heart of the gospel is Jesus’ death on the cross and resurrection. From the moment Pilate declared, “I have the power to crucify you,” to Jesus’s silent submission to death, the crucifixion of Jesus clearly highlights a stark contrast between two radically different forms of power. One was the power of the sword, the tool of earthly rulers. The other was the power of the cross, the ultimate demonstration of obedience, humility, love, and sacrifice – a power the world struggles to comprehend. At the cross, these two powers collide, leaving us faced with a crucial question: What kind of power do we trust?

The Power of the Sword

Earthly kingdoms have always maintained their authority through the power of the sword. This means their rule is enforced through violence or the threat of violence. Coercion and control is at the heart of how earthly governments, nations, and rulers sustain their authority. How do earthly kingdoms punish criminals? Through force. How do nations maintain their borders? Through force. How do governments defend themselves from enemies? Through force. Even the financing of the most basic government operations – such as collecting taxes – is upheld by force.

Some might argue that government power isn’t always coercive, as citizens often willingly submit to authority as a moral duty. Scriptures such as “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s” (Matthew 22:21) and “Be subject to the governing authorities” (Romans 13:1) may come to mind. But even voluntary submission to authority doesn’t change the nature of government power. It is fundamentally coercive. If anyone refuses to submit, they face fines, imprisonment, or other punishments. This reveals that the authority of earthly governments is always backed up by the threat of violence, making it inherently coercive.

In Romans 13:1-7, Paul clearly acknowledges that governing authorities “bear the sword” as their tool of enforcement, referring to their use of lethal force when necessary. This type of power is evident throughout Scripture. Pharaoh ordered the death of Hebrew male children to maintain control of Israel’s growing population (Exodus 1:8-16). Haman plotted to destroy the Jews in a effort to eliminate them as a perceived threat (Esther 3:8-13). Similarly, King Nebuchadnezzar threatened to execute by fire anyone who refused to worship his golden image (Daniel 3:13-18). The ultimate example of this kind of power occurred when Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, authorized the crucifixion of Jesus, despite finding no fault in him, demonstrating the Roman authority to use death as a tool for political expediency (Luke 23:24-25). Earthly kingdoms rely on the power of the sword to maintain authority.

The Power of the Cross

In sharp contrast, Jesus’s kingdom rejects the power of the sword. The Kingdom of God does not seek forced obedience, nor is it sustained by violence or coercion. Rather it is a kingdom of peace, maintained through faithful, self-sacrificial, obedient love. Even in the Old Testament examples of times when God’s people used the sword against their enemies, such as in Israel’s conquest of Canaan, or David’s victory over Goliath, success only came through trusting in God’s power, not in the sword itself. These examples demonstrate the importance of relying on God’s victory, pointing ahead to Christ’s victory on the cross.

Isaiah prophesied that in the Messiah’s kingdom, violence would end, as swords are transformed into plowshares (Isaiah 2:4). Jesus underscored this when he declared, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting” (John 18:36). In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus taught His followers not to violently resist evil, but to turn the other cheek and love their enemies (Matthew 5:38-39, 43-44). This non-violent resistance to evil stands in direct opposition to the power of the sword. When Peter attempted to use the power of the sword in Jesus’s defense, he was sharply rebuked for it (Luke 22:49-51).

Jesus’s exaltation to authority was dependent on his humility and obedience, ultimately exemplified in his death on the cross (Philippians 2:5-8). No earthly authority resembles Jesus in this way. No political regime has ever gained power through a commitment to love their enemies and overcoming evil with good. The very idea of an earthly government that refuses to bear the sword or defend itself from enemies is absurd.

However, Jesus’s kingdom is not of this world, nor does God does not expect earthly governments to operate like his kingdom. Since earthly governments bear the sword, God arranges them in such a way so as to execute his wrath on the unbelieving world (Romans 13:1-4). But the contrast between the sword and the cross remains clear. While earthly governments maintain authority through coercion, Jesus’s kingdom advances through the self-denial of faithful obedience and love.

The Cross is Greater Than the Sword

At the cross, we see the ultimate showdown between these two powers – coercion versus sacrificial love. At the time of the crucifixion, the cross was the greatest symbol of coercive power. It was the Roman’s tool for capital punishment, akin to a modern-day electric chair. Yet, because of Christ, the symbol of the cross has been transformed to represent the ultimate demonstration of the power of self-sacrificial obedience and love.

While the sword can end life, the cross has the power to give life. In the crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus disarms the power of the sword, because He destroyed the power of death itself. As Paul writes, Jesus “disarmed the rulers and authorities,” and “put them to an open shame” by triumphing over them (Colossians 2:15). Unlike the sword, which can offer at best a temporary suppression of evil, the cross destroys the power of sin and death. Though virtues such as submission, obedience, and patience may seem weak or impractical, it is the reliance on God’s ultimate justice that gives them strength. Because of the resurrection, the way of the cross is revealed as powerful and ultimately practical.

In Revelation 5:5-6, the Lion of Judah is seen, not as a warrior, but as the Lamb who was slain. This image symbolizes that the true victory found in Christ comes not through violence, but through self-sacrifice.

Which Power Do You Trust?

As followers of Christ, we are called to follow the pattern and example of Christ, who endured suffering for the sake of others (1 Peter 2:21). Christians are called to be a holy, set apart nation, exercising priestly influence (1 Peter 2:9). Christians must be living sacrifices, refusing the conform to the patterns of this world (Romans 12:1-2). We’re called to be nonconformist, because we put our trust in the way of Christ, which is the way of the cross. Being “Christ-like” isn’t just one aspect of who we are, it’s the very essence of what being a Christian is all about.

This holy distinction from the world is lost, however, when Christians try to put their trust in both the kingdoms of the world and the Kingdom of God at the same time. Trusting in the power of the sword, or worldly power, is incompatible with trusting in the power of the cross. When Christians covet the opportunity to fix the world through the power of the sword, the power of the Kingdom of God, for all practical purposes, ceases to be exercised.

While following the way of the cross often looks weak, impractical, and ineffective in comparison to the power of the sword, it is, in fact, the greatest power in the world. At the cross, we see the final and decisive victory of self-sacrificial obedience and love over violence. Jesus’s resurrection is the proof that the faithful obedience to God is greater than the power of coercion and force. The cross reveals that the strength of the sword is actually weakness, and the weakness of faithful submissive love is strength.

The cross is God’s ultimate answer to evil, not through perpetuating violence, but through obedient, suffering, self-sacrificial love. Christians are called to live after this same pattern, trusting not in the powers of this world but in the greater power of the cross.

“Jesus’ Temptations and World Powers” by David Lipscomb

On August 22, 2024 By The Christian ExileIn Christian's Relationship to Government, Church History, Kingdom Life

The Gospel Advocate, March 6, 1866, pp. 145-149.

We have found that God’s government, as established among the Jews as its subjects, was separated from all the institutions of man—that they were taught to rely upon God’s appointments in every emergency of life—that a failure to rely upon his appointments by seeking aid through their own inventions or through alliance with other human institutions, was always regarded by God as an indication of lack of faith in Him, and as an act of rebellion against His authority. We find that for four thousand years he has been teaching His servants the impossibility of forming alliances with, and participating in the institutions of man, and at the same time retaining his favor. They are finally rejected, cast out, a dispersed and scattered nation, on account of their persistent determination to participate in and to rely upon these institutions. For near two thousand years they have been a scattered, exiled, wandering, despised and persecuted people, and stand to-day a living monument attesting to every nation under the sun:

How great a folly and crime it is for God’s people to intermeddle with or participate in the institutions of human mold—to touch, taste, handle those things “which are for the destruction of those who use them.”
Colossians 2:22, Anderson’s Translation

He has taught the lesson of complete and perfect separation from the world kingdoms, he has taught them this for the benefit of the Church of Christ, he has assigned them a position of complete separation from all human institutions, which position they are to retain upon peril of their rejection and destruction as God’s people. Into the position from which they were broken, the believers in Christ were grafted. The believers in Christ, or the Church of God, stand then entirely separated from the world-powers by the direction and work of God. Daniel says, “it was to break in pieces and consume all these earthly kingdoms” (Daniel 2:44). I repeat then, if there were not a single word in the New Testament indicating they were separate, without specific authority of precept or example, for the subjects of the one participating in the affairs of the other, they must forever remain distinct, allowing no participation in the affairs of one by members and citizens of the other.

Is there example for so connecting them to the law and the testimony? Christ, the king, the representative of that church on earth, is met at the moment of his birth by a decree from the civil government under which he was born, for his destruction. The ruler recognizes him as the founder and head of the kingdom which “shall break in pieces and consume all these,” is then his enemy. He is preserved by his Father from destruction.

He commences his mission openly as the Son of God. Is recognized by his Father as “My Beloved Son in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 4:17). In the commencement of his public ministry his fidelity to his Father must be tested. He comes into the world to engage in a stupendous work — He must suffer excruciating torments — will he be faithful to his Father who sent him? Test him at the beginning. He is tempted, tried as never man was tried. He is tried at every point by the wicked one. In that temptation the devil taketh him up into a high mountain and sheweth him all the kingdoms of the world and the glory of them, and saith unto him, “all these things will I give thee if thou wilt fall down and worship me” (Matthew 4:5, 9). Or as Luke 4:5 records it:

The devil taking him up into a high mountain shewed hint all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time and the devil said unto him, “All this power avail give thee, and the glory of them: for that is delivered unto me, and to whomsoever I will, I give it. If thou wilt fall down and worship me, all shall be thine.”

We are seeking to locate the true position of the kingdoms of the earth — all the kingdoms of the earth. The devil says, “They are mine, I will give them thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me.”

“But,” says one, “the devil is a liar and the truth is not in him. He owns not a foot of soil.” Yea, but a liar, even the father of lies may tell the truth, and should be accredited when corroborated by one so truthful as the Son of God. Does the Son of God corroborate this statement? Let us examine for a moment. The Divine historian says he was tempted. Paul says, “He hath suffered, being tempted” (Hebrews 2:18). Now in order to its being a temptation, it must have been a veritable offer of something to the Son of God, which he very intently desired, yet could not take upon the terms offered. In other words, it must have been an offer of an object or possession ardently desired, by one having the right or power to bestow it. Now Jesus Christ knew the possessor of these kingdoms. It could be no temptation to an individual for me to offer him a title to a tract of land which he knew I did not have the shadow of a right to, or the power to obtain that right. Then in order to the offer’s being a temptation to the Son of God, He must have thought the devil had the power to give what he proposed to bestow. Then if the Son of God was tempted by the devil, all the kingdoms of this world were the devil’s kingdoms.

Indeed, what was the object of the mission of the Son of God into this world, but to rescue this world from the dominion of the wicked one and bring it back to its primeval allegiance to his Father? If it were not under the dominion of the wicked one, it could not be rescued from his power. Whatever rule or authority was exercised over the earth was exercised through these kingdoms. Hence Jesus Christ’s mission, sorrows, suffering and death, were all meaningless unless the kingdoms of this world be the kingdoms of the wicked one.

But let us revert to their origin. Whence did they originate? Not among the people of God, but among those in rebellion against Him. Who is the prime mover in all rebellion against God? The wicked one. There are but two sources of power in the universe, God and his great enemy. Every kingdom then not originating from God, must receive its power and authority from the wicked one. These earthly kingdoms then originated in the rebellion of the human family against God, lives to-day by virtue of that rebellion, and must die when that rebellion ceases. The little stone broke in pieces the image, and it filled the whole earth, so no place was found for these governments when the world was brought back to allegiance to God. The devil claimed them and Jesus Christ admitted his claim.

Let us look a moment at the point of this temptation. Jesus Christ came into this world to strive and wrestle with the devil for the dominion of this world, to rescue and redeem it from the power of the devil. He came as the “sent” of his Father. He came to conquer this world, destroy all dominion and principality, he came “to put down all rule and all authority and power” (1 Corinthians 15:24). When this is accomplished, he will deliver up the kingdom to the Father, and himself be subject unto the Father” (1 Corinthians 15:28). Or in other words he had come to fight for the dominion of the world, when he had gained that dominion, he was to occupy the second position in the rule and authority of the domains he had conquered. He knew that the conquest would cost him suffering, sorrow, maltreatment, indignities, excruciating torments, the very anticipation of which made him draw back with the entreaty, “let the cup pass from me” (Matthew 26:39) and brought great drops of blood from his soul of anguish; He knew, too, the strife for the conquest of the world must bring him down to the humiliation of death, the degradation of the grave.

The devil, with his subtlety, proposed at the very threshold of his mission, “you are to be a subordinate in this kingdom under your Father, after all your sorrows and sufferings. Now worship me, or recognize me as head instead of God, and I will deliver them all into your hand with all their glory, without a struggle, a sorrow, a pang upon your part.” There was the point of the temptation, to let him rule the earth through the devil’s kingdoms, without suffering, without death, without the grave, instead of through God’s, with all these. His purpose then is not to destroy the devil’s power in his kingdoms, and then himself reign therein, but it is to destroy those kingdoms of the wicked one, and in their stead establish God’s kingdom. How came the kingdom or dominion of the earth the devil’s? “They were delivered into my hand,” says the wicked one.

What says the Divine record? As we have shown in a former number, God made man ruler over the whole under creation. He was its head. He had the authority from God to use and control it as he desired. God having once delegated authority to man, never reassumed it to himself. Hence man, in refusing to obey God, but rather to follow the dictates of the serpent, rebelled against God, and transferred his allegiance to the devil. He, as the head and rightful ruler of the world, and the founder of the kingdoms of the world, transferred, with his allegiance, the rule of the world from God to God’s great enemy.

The entire world, animate and inanimate, sympathizes in this change. The spirit of savage venom and brutish strife in the animate kingdom, and the briar, and thistle, and thorn in the inanimate, betoken the reign of the wicked one. These never had their growth in the kingdom of God, in which His will prevailed and His spirit animated. We have a strong persuasion, too, that when this world becomes the kingdom of God and of his Son, the briar, and thistle, and thorn will no longer grow, the venomous brute and the poisonous serpent will lose their devilish nature, and

The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf, and the young lion, and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them…. The suckling child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice’s den.
Isaiah 12:6, 8

The prevalence of this feeling of venom and spite in man or brute, and the tendency of earth to grow the thistle, briar and thorn indicate clearly that the ruler is the wicked one; his spirit animates; he is the source of the power, the prince of this world. Jesus Christ came into this world to rescue the world from the dominion of the wicked one, and bring it back to its allegiance to his Father. How will he effect this? By infusing his spirit and introducing his subjects into the kingdoms of the world until he is able to out vote and control the world through the kingdoms of the wicked one? Or by destroying the kingdoms of the wicked one and establishing in their stead a kingdom of his own?

Man has no power to rule himself, all power and rule must come from God or the devil. Every institution then of earth, intended to control man, not founded of God, must look back through man, the agent to the wicked one, the prince of the world, as the source from which it sprang. Can God then rule in and animate a kingdom that has His enemy and his rival for its founder? Does not his character and his dignity require that he should destroy the works and institutions established under the inspiration of the wicked one, and establish a kingdom of his own, in and through which he will rule the world?

In the days of these kings shall the God of Heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed: and the kingdom shall not be left to other people, but it shall break in pieces and consume all these kingdoms, and it shall stand forever.
Daniel 2:44

Then cometh the end, when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Father; when he shall have put down all rule, and all authority, and power. For he must reign; until he hath put all enemies under his feet.
1 Corinthians 15:24-25

Every institution that exercises “authority, rule or power” over man, is a rival of Christ who claims sole authority, and must be “put down.”

He raised him from the dead, and set him at his own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come, and hath put all things under his feet, and gave him to be the head over all things in the church.
Ephesians 1:20-22

It is only through or in the church he is to be head of all things.

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against wicked spirits in high places.
Ephesians 6:12

The Real Problem With Christian Nationalism

On October 10, 2022 By Tyler BoydIn Christian's Relationship to Government

Bad arguments for correct positions often do more harm than good arguments for incorrect positions. This certainly seems to be the case with many of the popular criticisms against Christian nationalism. It’s not uncommon to read that Christian nationalism is wrong because “it suppresses minorities” or because “it is racist” or because it motivates political violence or “insurrection.”

The problem with focusing only on the most unreasonable extremes is that it leaves the door open for Christians to adopt a more reasonable and balanced version of Christian nationalism. Many Christian nationalists simply believe that their government should look out for the best interest of its citizens, and the best way to do that is by encouraging their government to uphold godly values. They don’t try to suppress minorities, enforce Christianity by the force of law, and would never “storm the capital”. Since many of the popular attacks don’t accurately depict the most common forms of Christian nationalism, it’s no wonder why many find those attacks unconvincing.

Christian nationalism is wrong, but not for the reasons many popular arguments would have you believe. The real problem with Christian nationalism is that it misses the fundamental distinction between the kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world.

Before accepting Christian nationalism in any form whatsoever, I encourage you to carefully consider the following passages.

1 Samuel 8:1-22

Although God originally formed his people as the unique nation of Israel, they were different from other nations in that they had no king other than God himself. Eventually, the Israelites grew tired of being different and so they asked for a king “like the nations” (8:5). Why did Israel want a king? Because they wanted someone to fight their battles for them (8:20).

The problem with Israel’s nationalism was that of trust. Israel wanted a human ruler because they no longer trusted in God to continue to fight their battles. That’s why God viewed Israel’s request as a rejection of his own kingship (8:7). Ultimately, God gave them their request. Over the next several centuries, Israel’s nationalism led to continual political conflicts, failed alliances, and ultimately to exile.

This passage reveals something very important about how God views the nationalistic desire for governing authorities to fight our battles. While this passage makes it clear that God is the head of all rule and authority (cf. Col. 2:10), and he institutes them for his purposes (cf. Rom. 13:1), he does so only as a concession to humans who cannot trust in him to fight their battles for them. Since humans insist on having governments, God uses them as ministers to accomplish his purposes (Rom. 13:1-5). But this does not mean that God approves of them. Often times God used wicked nations (such as Assyria or Babylon) as his ministers to punish Israel, only to turn around and punish them for their evil (e.g. Is. 10:5-15). Governments are under the influence of Satan (Lk. 4:5-7), but nevertheless, when people turn to earthly rulers, God permits them to have their way and uses those governments to accomplish his purposes.

Jesus, on the other hand, rejected the devil’s offer to take control of the kingdoms of the world (Mt. 4:8-10), refused to use his power to secure political power, and ran away from those who tried to make him a king (Jn. 6:15). Jesus came to destroy Israel’s nationalism by breaking down the wall of hostility between Jews and Gentiles (cf. Eph. 2:11-18).

Psalm 33:16-17

The king is not saved by his great army;
a warrior is not delivered by his great strength.
The war horse is a false hope for salvation,
and by its great might it cannot rescue.

Even after God allowed Israel to have a king, he still opposed their nationalism. He stressed that the security and success of his people was not to be found in the king, but in God himself.

When David wrote “Blessed in the nation whose God is the Lord” (Ps. 33:12), he did so in the context of opposing Israel’s nationalism (which ironically is nearly the opposite of how many Christian nationalist will use the verse today.) David was saying that people are blessed when they trust in God to be their Lord as opposed to turning to earthly rulers (33:10-11).

Isaiah 40:15-17

Behold, the nations are like a drop from a bucket,
and are accounted as the dust on the scales;
behold, he takes up the coastlands like fine dust…
All the nations are as nothing before him,
they are accounted by him as less than nothing and emptiness.

Although this passage doesn’t necessarily forbid Christian nationalism, it should greatly reduce the temptation by reminding us of the greatness of the Lord’s sovereignty in comparison to the meaningless nations. When people believe that the nations hold supreme influence on the course of the world, it is understandable why they would place a good deal of importance on influencing those nations for good. But for those whose eyes are fixed on the Lord there is continual peace, for they know that regardless of what unfolds in politics, whether good or bad, the Lord will use the authorities as his ministers to accomplish his good purposes (Rom. 13:1-5).

Matthew 20:25-28

But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

The quest for ruling power characterizes the world, but it must not characterize Jesus’ disciples. Christian nationalism, even in its very best and most reasonable form, is ultimately about influencing earthly powers to govern and rule in a particular way. Christians should have no part in wielding this kind of power.

John 18:36-37

Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not of this world.” Then Pilate said to him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world – to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.”

When Jesus announced “My kingdom is not of this world,” Pilate then interpreted his words like many do today, as if Jesus was only speaking figuratively. He asked “So are you a king?” But Jesus, with no hint of confusion, weakness, or compromise responded, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born.”

Apparently, the idea of being a king and establishing a real kingdom was a big deal to Jesus. What’s more, this kingdom is primarily distinguished from the kingdom of the world in that its citizens do not fight in the same way citizens of earthly kingdoms fight.

Strangers and Foreigners

Most Christians believe in a two-kingdom concept in some form or another. Jesus made this clear in Matthew 22:15-22. The Pharisees in this passage tried to trap Jesus by asking him about the matter of paying taxes to Caesar. It is here that Jesus replied, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” Most any Christian will acknowledge that there is a distinction between what belongs to Caesar and what belongs to God, although they will sometimes disagree where that line of distinction is drawn. But the early Christians drew that line with a decisive stroke.

Peter spoke to Christians as if they did not belong to the earthly kingdoms in which they lived.

And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourself with fear through the time of your exile.
1 Peter 1:17

Peter would later refer to them as “sojourners and exiles” (2:11).

The book of Hebrews likewise encouraged Christians to follow the examples of those who by faith “acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.” (Heb. 11:13). Paul held to the same ideas as can be seen in the following passage.

2 Timothy 2:3-4

Share in suffering as a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No soldier gets entangled in civilian disputes, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him.

Paul told Timothy that a Christian should view themselves as a loyal soldier in the Lord’s army, not distracted by concerns outside of his domain. He reminded Timothy that a soldier does not have the time, nor the right, to involve himself in the affairs of the country in which he finds himself. Why? Because his relationship to that county is that of a foreigner. Christian nationalism is no more appropriate for a Christian than German nationalism would be for an American soldier stationed in Germany.

Nationalism, in it’s most basic and defendable form, suggest that nationalism is reasonable because citizens are right to concern themselves with the affairs of their own country before concerning themselves with globalist affairs of foreign nations. Yet it is this very logic which renders Christian nationalism unreasonable since Christians are citizens of a different kingdom.

Christian Nationalism is Backsliding

Other scriptures could certainly be added to this list, but the point should be clear. Christianity isn’t merely non-nationalistic. It is anti-nationalistic. The early Christians didn’t merely fail to transform Rome into a Christian nation, they viewed themselves as strangers and exiles living in a foreign country. The Bible doesn’t merely fail to support Christian nationalism, it warns Christians against it.

Come out of her [Babylon] my people,
lest you take part in her sins,
lest you share in her plagues.
Revelation 19:4

Advancing God’s kingdom today requires that we remain distinct from the world (Jn. 15:19). Christian nationalism, in any form whatsoever, is backsliding because it blurs the line of distinction between the church and the world, between foreigners and citizens, and between the Kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world. To seek to build up nations reverses what Jesus accomplished when he established a kingdom that would rule over all nations, and one day will ultimately triumph over all earthly rule and authority (1 Cor. 15.24).

Just as Old Testament Israel rebelled against God when they demanded a king, Christians express a lack of trust in God when they embrace Christian nationalism. Christians are citizens of a different kingdom (Phil. 3:20). It’s time we live like it.