Sunday, June 21, 2026

A Young, Hot Mess (Book Review)

The works of Gordon Wood are not light reading. Empire of Liberty: A History of the Early Republic, 1789-1815 (Oxford, 2009) measures 2 1/2" thick and if thrown could put a clean hole in your drywall. Wood's research, which has won a Pulitzer Prize for a different book, looks into every nook and cranny of the early American experiment: military, cultural, religious, political, and economic. His writing moves easily across sweeping landscapes of history without forgetting to zoom in on illustrative individual stories. For the reader with endurance, I recommend Wood's work.

There is no way to wrap up the contents of this book in a little package, so I will share a few insights that struck me enough in the moment to dog-ear a page for later.

--The early decades of the American republic were persistently and oddly rural and agricultural. Much of the political leadership "assumed that American society would eventually become more like that of Europe and that what Franklin had once called the 'general happy Mediocrity' of America would generally disappear" (p318). Instead, America became a country in which most of us are part of a "happy mediocrity." And as a republic, Wood argues, this continues to be one of America's defining features. "Happy mediocrity." I'm sitting with that phrase for a while.

--American constitutional law was unique in the world. (It may still be, but I'm not qualified to make that assertion.) In other countries, constitutions were documents of theory, but after 1787 "American judges could now construe the all-too-brief words of the Constitution in relation to subject matter, intention, context, and reasonableness, as if they were the words of an ordinary statute" (p448). I have had front-row seats to this phenomenon through one of my favorite podcasts, Advisory Opinions (which I recommend to you), and Wood puts it in historical perspective.

(Aside: another favorite podcast of mine, The Rest Is History, has asserted that having a constitution that we try to take literally is bonkers. Tom and Dominic are incorrigible Anglophiles, making their opinion even more interesting with respect to early American history.)

(Another Aside: I find it fascinating that just as what we might call "statutory constitutionalism" was making its start in early American law, American evangelicalism also starting putting down roots. I see a parallel, perhaps related, between constitutional textualism and biblical literalism in Christianity.)

--The shift across the Atlantic from a monarchical to a republican world-view changed how social betters viewed social inferiors. In European culture, Wood writes, one has a station, a class, which is granted and from which one cannot hope to move. Thus royalty and nobility are called to take care of the lower classes regardless of how those lower classes are conducting themselves. They would never change. Early America, however, developed the view that since social standing was fluid, to help ones inferiors meant expecting them to better themselves and rise with the assistance. "The new reformers waned to imbue people not with deference or dependency but with 'correct moral principles'; they aimed to change the actual behavior of people. These middling reformers had transformed themselves, often by strenuous efforts at self-improvement and hard work. Why couldn't others do the same?" (p489). To embrace republicanism meant rejecting both the stuckness of social classes and charity for charity's sake.

-- The War of 1812 was conducted in strange, sloppy, and disastrous fashion, in large part because President Madison stuck to his republican guns. "Better to allow the country to be invaded and the capital burned than to build up state power in a European monarchical manner. It was a Republican war that Madison sought to wage in a republican fashion" (p698). He would not take action in lieu of Congress, usurping its prerogatives. He would not siphon money toward the war effort without Congress' approval. So concerned was Madison about concentrating executive power (the Republican party's great concern at the time) that the war was inefficient, unnecessarily lethal to American soldiers, and perhaps unnecessary in the first place. And it went on longer than it had to. It is worth comparing and contrasting this history with how the United States has conducted its wars in the past 70 years.

-- The feelings of opposition between Federalists (who saw top-down government authority as useful) and Republicans (who saw only bottom-up governance as virtuous) were so strong in this period that violence resulted--including one of the very few instances of assault inside the chambers of Congress. In our present time when folks assert that "we've never been as politically polarized as we are now" Wood's writing is a useful corrective. We may say that American culture goes through cycles of political amiability and violence, and perhaps we're at the bottom of the cycle in 2026. But we've got a solid history of believing that our fellow Americans hold viewpoints that need to be silenced with physical force. We may be good at unity, but we're also good at making each other into enemies.

-- In spite of the radical and inspiring emergence of the Declaration of Independence and Constitution, the early republic was a hot mess. On every axis there existed great hopes, profound uncertainty, bitter disagreement, and stunning failures. No one knew what he was doing, really. One of Wood's closing reflections is on Thomas Jefferson's disbelief that the next generation of Americans could consider the question of slavery to be a moral question (p737). Yet it would become the defining moral question of the next violent convulsion of American history.

I recently went with a passel of middle-schoolers on a camping trip. It was amazing to me how much time (and sometimes material) was spent on discovering just how flammable spray sunscreen is, how fast a punctured soda can will spray out its contents, and what qualifies as a "pocket" in spike ball. As an adult, I could have told them the rules, of course (and there had to be some of that, for safety's sake), but they were determined to discover the rules by experimentation rather than fiat.

Is the American republic still an experiment? It certainly was in the first 40 years, with all the slop, damage, and discovery of experimentation. Thanks to Gordon Wood for opening up new vistas of understanding. About a week ago, as I was getting into the last fifth of this book, I heard on the radio that Gordon Wood died at 92 years of age. I hope he has gone to glory.

love,

emrys

Sunday, June 14, 2026

Matthew 25:31-46

A couple of weeks ago during our Theology on Tap session we touched on interpretation of Jesus' teaching in Matthew 25:31-46 (the sheep and the goats sorted out at the end of time). I intimated that I have a different interpretation of that text than what usually makes the rounds in Christian preaching and writing. Some wondered or disagreed with me.

So I decided to lay out my work with the text for others to see, and discover whether it generates more fruitful discussion.

I handed out a physical copy of what follows at Theology on Tap, with the invitation to bring follow-up questions to our next gathering. (And if there are only crickets chirping in the silence, then we'll move on to our next topic.)

Who Are The Sheep (and Goats)?

Matthew 25: 31-46

**TLDR**: When non-Christians love you through crises, bless them in Jesus’ name. God will honor that blessing.


A few weeks ago, I (Emrys) offered an interpretation of Matthew 25:31-46 that differs from most contemporary American interpretations. There was enough disagreement and curiosity expressed about it that I decided to lead you through my process of exploration of the text and interpretation of it. That follows is the detailed result.


Verse in question: Matthew 25:40 “And the king [Son of Man] will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers you did it to me.’”


What does “brother” mean?

“Brother” in Matthew:

4.18, 21; 10.2, 21; 14.3; 17.1; 22.24, 25 seem to refer only to biological relationship.

5.22-24; 7.3-4; 18.15-35;  probably metaphor, but does not define “brother”

12.50: Jesus clearly changes the definition of “brother” from biological relation to “the one doing the will of my father in heaven”--i.e. disciples/apostles. (This fits into the list of other metaphorical passages given above, having to do with reconciliation, etc.)

Thus, in Matthew’s gospel, when the meaning of “brother” is not clearly biological family, the metaphorical meaning of “brother” is a disciple or apostle of Jesus.


Plug this into Mat25.40:

““And the king [Son of Man] will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these my disciples you did it to me.’”


But wait . . .

Isn’t humanity a “universal brotherhood”? Therefore, aren’t “the least of these, my brothers” really the least (or most disadvantaged) of all humanity?

Amos 1.9: Jer27.1-8? Meaning of brotherhood here is obscure

Zech11.14: brotherhood is in-house between Judah&Israel

1Pet2:17: “love the brotherhood”--over against “honoring everyone”

There is no scriptural reference to all of humanity being a “brotherhood” apart from Christ. One only becomes a “brother to Christ” by faith in him. This would direct us against interpreting “the least of these my brothers” to mean anyone who is not Christian.

(If we want to say that “the least of these my brothers” refers to all humanity, we can do that, but we must admit that we are getting the definition of “brother” from somewhere besides the bible.)


Now, what about the “nations” (Greek: ethne)?

From Matthew:

24.7: “nation will rise against nation”

24.9: “You will be hated by all nations because of my name”

24.14: good news preached “as a testimony to all nations”

25.32: our text in question

28.19: “go and make disciples of all the nations”

Nations are groups of people occupying the world outside of the Church. They make war with each other; they oppose the good news of Christ; they hear the good news; and the Church recruits folks from them. There seems to be a boundary between “nations” and the people of God. This resonates with the Old Testament view of Israel and the nations, with which we expect Matthew to be familiar.


What objections might we raise to this conclusion? From where do those objections come (scriptural, theological, ethical)?

There are a host of scriptural passages that indicate one can only be saved (that is, live with God forever) if one believes in Jesus Christ. These would seem to say that there is no action delivered by one person to another that guarantees salvation; faith alone is the determining factor.

However, the exploration of this passage (above) must give us pause. So, too, must two additional passages from the gospels which are admittedly weird, but link up with our text.

Matthew 10.40-42 and Mark 9.38-41 both reference a “reward” for those who offer simple hospitality to the apostles. The context in Matthew seems to be the sending out of the apostles into a world where their reception is uncertain–it is also a sending into a culture in which hospitality is one of the chief social virtues.

These (Matthew 10, Matthew 25) are not preaching instructions: “Go, tell the world that they just have to visit people in prison in order to be saved!” These appear to be in-house instructions for apostles navigating in the world.


What’s the purpose of this passage?

Why tell the Church that a whole bunch of those outside the Church will be brought into the kingdom in the end because of acts of mercy delivered to members of the Church?

I think this passage presents a complicating message for American Christians. Most American students of the New Testament want simplicity regarding entry into the next life: If you believe in Jesus, you’re in; if you don’t, you’re out.

The New Testament addresses a Church which is a minority culture in a world in which hospitality was a life-or-death factor, and therefore had its own economics. And Jesus’ disciples want to take Jesus’ lordship and direction seriously. So the following quandary would naturally arise for them. “We were placed in positions of suffering because of our faith: homelessness, prison, poverty, etc. These people offered us hospitality in our time of need. They didn’t profess loyalty to you, but they honored us. How could you condemn them, Lord? Isn’t that a violation of hospitality?”

The Matthew 25 text (and Matthew 10 and Mark 9 verses) address the apostles’ quandary with an answer: They will not be condemned.


[For an interesting intersection of these worlds in a contemporary context, look up the story of Matt Zeller and Janis Shinwari: https://www.npr.org/2013/09/25/225858836/u-s-soldier-crusading-for-afghan-interpreter-who-saved-his-life ]


love,

emrys