I caused a little bit of a stir on Friday on X when I posted appreciative comments on James Baird’s volume, King of Kings. Understandably, my praise caught some by surprise since I am well on the record for opposing concepts that might be called “Christian Nationalism,” which Baird’s volume seems to hit upon without invoking the exact phraseology. I am also a Baptist who stands firmly in the free-church tradition, which champions disestablishment and religious liberty. Baird is a Presbyterian, and I’m, well, not. Furthermore, Baird is thoroughly anti-progressive in his orientation and absolutely correct in his insistence that righteous laws are what we need more of, so I am more than happy to link arms with a Presbyterian brother to combat the deleterious forces of philosophical progressivism. So this is an appreciative, but critical review.
Here is why I liked the book, sincerely: One, it grounds its arguments in Scripture rather than political theory (not that political theory is irrelevant). I may not agree with all of Baird’s exegesis and applications, but it is a sincere effort to ground one’s arguments in the Word of God. Two, it is a well-argued book. To say it is a well-argued book does not mean that I agree with it. It is simply to admit that, all things considered, I think Baird did a fine job representing the magisterial Protestant position on church-state relations.
Issues of church and state are always lively, are they not? Consider the gospel centrality of Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Vice President J.D. Vance at Charlie Kirk’s memorial. I wholeheartedly endorse what we saw on display in that setting. If that is what Baird wants to see by his idea of government “promoting true religion,” I would give an unreserved “amen” to it. What we saw at the Kirk memorial is what I want more of: Public officials testifying to the Lordship of Jesus Christ and encouraging others in that journey. I am not a strict separationist repulsed by public officials testifying to their religious beliefs. As I remarked to Joe Rigney on X, I am a Baptist who believes in a robust civic Christianity and am fine with a lower-case “c” (c)hristendom. Soft cultural establishment is simpatico for this Baptist. By “soft establishment,” I mean a moral ecology and social customs saturated with the implications of Christian ethics within the cultural arena.
But, while we can say that what we saw at Kirk’s memorial may be the very best of civic Christianity, we must consider another event in the annals of church-state relations that should cause us to pause and reflect about how government can get in bed with religion and lead to very tragic and bizarre outcomes: In Finland, a former government official, Päivi Räsänen, is going to face Finland’s Supreme Court this week for having the audacity to quote the Bible during Pride month. It should not be lost on us that Finland has a state church. So how can it be that Finland, with a state church, is persecuting a Christian woman? Shouldn’t Finland, with all its religious associations, be promoting true religion? Why, then, is it persecuting true religion? I would suggest that, for all of Baird’s aspirational hopes for Christian magistrates promoting Christianity, in practice, what is happening in Finland (and, basically, throughout church history) is the logical outcome when Christianity becomes a handmaiden of the state.
That brings me to the heart of my comments around Baird’s book. For all the good that can come from Christian magistrates advancing the Christian gospel while in office, there are also profound ways in which this can go off the rails.
Let me get to the heart of his argument:
First Premise: Government must promote the public good.
Second Premise: As the only true religion, Christianity is part of the public good.
Conclusion: Government must promote Christianity as the only true religion.
That’s a simple enough argument. I do not deny the first premise. What I question is how Christianity functions as a “public good” in the second premise. Baird makes a convincing case for how Christianity is a public good in promoting true morality, none of which I really disagreed with. But Christianity is more than a public good. It is an eternal good. It is more than morality and traditional values, but no less than those things. What I question is the “adjective.” While the moral law is inherently and decidedly good, “Christian” denotes a regenerative reality. Therefore, we should always exercise caution before slapping “Christian” on things that reside outside of a regenerate context.
One further observation: Even if we grant that government should promote “true religion,” that is not a self-executing concept. Which means, for example, that the state granting capacious freedoms to diverse religious citizens is one very practical way it promotes true religion—by not standing in its way or obscuring pure religion.
If I were to re-work the syllogism, it would go like this:
First premise: Government must promote the public good.
Second premise: Moral laws known through the natural law promote the public good.
Conclusion: Magistrates must promote the natural law, a moral law that is fully and finally revealed within the regenerate community.
I offer this because everything the natural law posits serves to order society properly. Yes, Scripture confirms the edicts of the natural law, corrects its misapplications, clarifies it in a covenantal context, and completes the natural law’s ultimate telos. But a society that orders itself according to the natural law will, in the end, look like a nation influenced by the moral leaven of the gospel because God’s natural law and God’s revealed law are the same, albeit disclosed through different media. This allows us to execute justice and moral righteousness without blurring important distinctions that muddy the distinct callings of church and state.
If I were to identify the book’s biggest flaw, it would be its omission of covenantal progression. Now, I’m a Progressive Covenantalist, and I assume Baird is a traditional Covenantalist as a Presbyterian. This explains why he tends to overlay Old Testament horizons with a one-to-one correspondence into the New Testament. There is no discussion of the progression and unfolding of covenants; or no sustained discussion of how Israel’s theocracy dissolves in light of Christ; or why the motif of “nursing fathers” (Isaiah 49:34) that Baird relies so heavily on for his view of the civil magistrate is best interpreted in view of restoring Israel to protect the bloodline of the promised Messiah so that the nations would honor him. It would be better to understand the “nursing fathers” imagery in view of the roles of the Apostles and the role of the church (see 1 Thess. 2:7). The desire of magisteralists to blend the parental language of nursing fathers and mothers with civil authority exemplifies the hermeneutical flaw of incorporating significant portions of the Old Covenant into the New without taking into consideration the progression of the biblical storyline. This flattens the storyline of Scripture and fails to see how such categories typologically unfold in light of Christ.
Another criticism is the practical takeaways Baird wants to see in action. For example, he says on page 3, “the way someone goes about fulfilling his duty will depend greatly upon the circumstances.” But a few sentences later, he says, “By ‘promote,’ I mean the activity of encouraging, supporting, advancing, or furthering the progress of something.” Okay, fair enough. But if the government has a divine obligation to promote Christianity as the true religion for the sake of the public good, shouldn’t there be more specifics on how to do that? Why doesn’t the Bible spell that out? I’m sure that Marco Rubio preaching the gospel at Kirk’s memorial satisfies Baird’s criteria, but I’m left wondering what else a Christian magistrate should do: Penalize blasphemy, convene synods, or restrict the construction of mosques and synagogues? Or is this just about issuing Thanksgiving Day proclamations that invoke the name of Christ (appropriately phrased, I would be entirely in favor of such a thing). For clarity’s sake, it would be beneficial if such recommendations were fully explained in much more technical detail. What is off-limits and permissible for the magistrate to do when it comes to promoting true religion? I wish more explanation had been offered.
Baird states on page 24: “To speak plainly, everything wonderful about our society today sits upon the foundation of Christianity.” Yes, it does. It should be noted that the truthfulness of this claim also occurs within a context of disestablishment, which makes me question the necessity of Baird’s central argument. And, in a counterfactual reality that goes unaddressed in the book, Baird ignores the terrible consequences that have accrued throughout the history of church-state establishments (e.g., wars of religion, inquisitions, the politicization of Christianity, and Christians persecuting other Christians.
But that also brings me to another counterclaim: I see no New Testament command that the civil magistrate or government should seek to mediate the redemptive covenant. Must the civil magistrate and government honor God and seek His justice by obeying the moral law? Yes, absolutely, as all of creation must. But honoring God’s moral law is not the same as the government mediating or entangling itself in redemptive realities—especially when it lacks the mandate and safeguarding mechanisms that Jesus gave to the church (see Matt. 16:19).
Another thought that recurred throughout my reading: If Baird’s thesis is what must be, how does it function in a constitutional republic with a First Amendment like ours? Though he’s at pains to explain how far we have deviated from the Founders’ original intention to allow states to determine religious affairs on their own, the fact remains that we have a First Amendment. All fifty states have adopted its prescriptions. Baird’s vision would require repealing the First Amendment, as it would require some form of formal establishment (maybe I misread him on this; if so, I hope he corrects me). All that to say: The political theology Baird proposes will leave its proponents profoundly disappointed. After reading his volume, I’m not sure we’ve ever had a Christian magistrate who fits the bill that Baird envisions. And will we ever? And that is one more major critique I have: Political theology should not be held captive to an idealized political arrangement. Political theology must be able to absorb the fluctuations of history’s progression. It needs to work, given whatever state of affairs churches find themselves within. This is one of the attractive features, at least to me, of Baptist political theology: It does not depend on the regime’s favorability or lack of favorability to Christianity. Why? Because we see the church’s mission operating independently of the state’s mission. After reading his volume, I am unsure of how to enact his vision within our current constitutional regime. There is no political will, at all, for revising the First Amendment or restoring any church-state establishment.
And I’m still left wondering: Whose Christianity is to win the day? Protestantism? Catholicism? Finland’s current version of Lutheranism? Who adjudicates what the proper boundaries for “true religion” are? Especially on the assumption that not every officeholder will, themselves, be regenerate? We are left in the uncomfortable position of allowing pagan rulers to promote a Christianity they do not even believe in. This is one of the fatal misfortunes of the magisterial vision: It envisions a degree of stasis that defies the progression of history. It requires adjudicative mechanisms that ensure only regenerate magistrates remain in office. How likely is that to happen?
Let me end on a positive note: Baird’s concluding section on the role of prudence was outstanding. The laws that take shape depend on the needs of the people. That’s a subject I teach a lot in my classes, and it is good to see this topic discussed in a more popular context. But more importantly than even prudence, Baird rightly anchors Christian political advocacy in the love of God and love of neighbor. His exhortations for Christians to put aside the mealy-mouthed dismissals of obtaining power for just ends are what we need more of. We need more Christian politicians. So, one hope I have is that those reading Baird’s book heed his call to action and run for office and pursue power for just ends.
Conclusion
Baptist views on church and state are not “public atheism,” as I’ve heard it alleged. A Baptist political theology recognizes that the magistrate and government are under God’s authority and are charged to uphold God’s moral law, while maintaining jurisdictional distinctions between the church and the state. I still find the axiom “Government must promote true religion” too vague to be clear and too historically burdened to be desirable.
But for fear that my comments are framed in the negative about Baird’s book, let me reiterate, this is the best case I’ve read for someone wanting to argue the magisterial position. I don’t adopt it for myself, but I respect it.
As Carl F.H. Henry observed, the mission of the church—not the state—is to “declare the criteria by which nations will be ultimately be judged, and the divine standards to which man and society must conform itself if civilization is to endure.”
In a longer review, I would engage with Baird’s exegesis of the Old and New Testaments. Briefly, I’ll say this: Pagan kings who honored Yahweh in the Old Testament were types and anticipations of Christ’s universal reign, not prescriptive blueprints for Gentile political rulers in the present age. When Nineveh’s king or Cyrus recognizes Yahweh, it’s not a proof-text for magisterial Protestantism—it’s a foretaste of the eschatological reality when “the nations shall come to your light” (Isa. 60:3). These episodes preview how the nations will one day acknowledge God’s supremacy through Christ, not how magistrates today should entangle the government in religious matters.
For anyone interested in my most up-to-date musings on the subject, I wrote a 3,000-word essay for G3 in August for a forum on church-state issues.
