The task assigned to me is to provide something of a brief survey or annotated list of works in the history of political theology. This is the kind of task that sounds easy when talking with the editorial team. But when one sits to actually do the task one realizes (again!) that there is a lot of material. What follows is by necessity selective. In seeking to list (a portion?) of the key texts on political theology, I generally stick to Christian theological resources. However, as we move into the modern era, I found it helpful (and necessary, as shall be seen) to at least mention briefly Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, since their impact on subsequent western thinking—including Christian reflection—is significant.
One resource that can be recommended without reservation is Oliver O’Donovan and Joan Lockwood O’Donovan, From Irenaeus to Grotius: A Sourcebook in Christian Political Thought. This work is a collection of primary sources up through Grotius (1538–1646). The reader would have to look elsewhere to come up to the present day. But the volume by the O’Donovan’s (husband and wife) would virtually constitute a course in and of itself in political theology. Often, when I am quoting this or that source, I am relying upon From Irenaeus to Grotius.
Thus, in what follows I offer ten of the most important works on political theology, starting with a compilation of voices from the Early Church, and concluding with other key resources that could be consulted. As Ecclesiastes 12:11, “Of making many books there is no end,” and thus this list is just the beginning. But for anyone who wants to do the reading, these ten steps are worth taking.
1. Selected Early Christian Texts and Early Church Fathers
Since it is impossible to limit the reading to one definitive work in the Early Church, here are five critical contributions: Justin Martyr, the Epistle to Diognetus, Theophilus of Antioch, Irenaeus, and Tertullian.
Justin Martyr (c. A.D. 90/100–165) is known for three key works: First Apology, Second Apology, and Dialogue with Trypho. In his First Apology he is writing Emperor Antoninus Pius (reigned A.D. 137/38–161). Here, Justin Martyr defends Christians as good citizens (pp. 2, 4), as ones who “more than all other peoples . . . are your helpers and allies in the cause of peace” (p. 12) and as ones who are happy to be judged fairly. Justin Martyr also boldly writes that there is no ruler more kingly or just than Jesus Christ (p. 12).
The Epistle to Diognetus is worthy of mention. The date is uncertain, but Michael W. Holmes suggests between A.D. 117 to after 313.[1] This letter is of interest to us for what the author says in section five. He writes of how Christians function as citizens: “while they live in both Greek and barbarian cities, as each one’s lot was cast, and follow the local customs in dress and food and other aspects of life, at the same time they demonstrate the remarkable and admittedly unusual character of their own citizenship. (5.4). Indeed, Christians “live in their own countries, but only as aliens; they participate in everything as citizens, and endure everything as foreigners. Every foreign country is their fatherland, and every fatherland is foreign.” (5.5). We see themes here that Christians are still wrestling with today.
1. Michael W. Holmes, ed. The Apostolic Fathers, second edition. Translated by J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House), 293.
Theophilus of Antioch (died c. A.D. 183–185) is known to us through his work, To Autolycus. He writes the striking line: “I will pay honour to the emperor not by worshipping him but by praying for him.” (p. 11). The emperor is not a true God, but was made by the true God. (p. 11). The emperor is not to be worshipped; the emperor is simply to rule justly. (p. 11).).
Irenaeus (c. A.D. 125–c. 202) is most well-known for his Proof of the Apostolic Preaching (a relatively short work), as well as his Against Heresies (a much longer, five-volume work). In Against Heresies he reflects upon the nature of the civil magistrate. Civil government comes about due to sin (in agreement with Augustine, and in disagreement with Thomas Aquinas). Civil government is an agent of justice, and provides at least a modicum of justice while living in this life. He interprets the “rock” of Daniel 2:41–45 (a rock not made by human hands) as Christ, who will ultimately crush the kingdoms of this world. (5.26).
Tertullian (c. A.D. 155–c. 220), was the most significant western theologian before Augustine (A.D. 354–430). Tertullian, like many who follow him, contends that civil laws must be just, and must never require something fundamentally immoral. And law must only conjoin that which is fundamentally good (Apology 4). Good civil leadership must show diligence to go through and expunge and clear out clearly unjust laws (Apology 4). Similarly, judges should only take action when the evidence is clear (Apology 4.). Christians should pray for the emperor (Apology 30). In an interesting move, Tertullian asserts that “nothing is more foreign to us than the state (res publica). One state we know, of which all are citizens—the universe.” (Apology 38).
2. Augustine, City of God
Augustine’s classic work, City of God, must be on any reading list of this sort. Augustine (A.D. 354–430) wrote this work between 413 and 427, after Alaric and the Visigoths had successfully invaded Rome in A.D. 410. Some of the pagan opponents of Christianity claimed that Rome had fallen to the Visigoths because Rome had forsaken their traditional gods and religious practices, and had (at least in some ways) turned to Christianity. Augustine argued that the history of the world was really the history of “two cities”—the city of God, and the city of man. The city of God was constituted by those who loved God, even if this led to contempt for oneself, and the city of man was created by those who love the self, even if this led to contempt for God. These two cities—in the present time—are intermingled, and will remain so until the end of time. At that point, the city of man will be judged, while the city of God will reach its ultimate end—which is the company of the saints enjoying and gazing upon God.
Of particular interest is that Augustine argued not only that the Roman republic had had problems long before Christianity entered the scene (thus Christianity could not be justly blamed Rome’s challenges), but the problem was much, much deeper. If justice was giving each person his due, the commonwealth must account for Christ and for what Christ is due. Christ is owed ultimately love, allegiance, and obedience. Hence, true justice can only be achieved when Christ is Lord of a commonwealth (City of God II.21).
3. Thomas Aquinas
Thomas Aquinas (A.D. 1225–74) did not write the equivalent of a City of God, but he wrote at some length on the nature of civil government. I fudge a bit here and mention two works by Thomas: his classic, Summa Theologiae (I–II, QQ.90–97) and his De Regno (Concerning the King). In his Summa Theologiae Thomas treats “Of the Essence of Law” (Q. 90), the “Of the Various Kinds of Law” (Q. 91), “Of the Effects of Law” (Q. 92), “Of the Eternal Law” (Q. 92), “Of the Eternal Law” (Q. 93), “Of the Natural Law” (Q. 94), “Of the Human Law” (Q. 95), “Of the Power of the Human Law” (Q. 96), and “Of Change in Law”) Question 96. Subsequent questions focus on different aspects of biblical law, the “New Law,” and then moves on to questions of grace and merit (Questions 98–114).
We will not work through the details of Thomas’ understanding of law here. But he is an extremely important pre-modern Christian example of an attempt to think through the nature of what he calls “human law” (the various law codes created by human/earthly political bodies), and how such laws are inextricably linked to God’s law—including the “eternal law” which exists in the mind of God, the “natural law” (our “participation” in the eternal law), as well as law found in the Bible itself (I-II, QQ.98–105).
4. Dante Allighieri
Dante Alighieri (A.D. 1265–1321) was one of the most important persons of the middle ages. He is especially well known for his The Divine Comedy—published in three books: Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise. His work that concerns us here is his De Monarchia (On Monarchy—dated between 1310 and 1312, but even possibly as late as 1317).[2] Interestingly, Oliver and John Lockwood O’Donvan call Dante’s De Monarchia a “naturalistic apology for the Roman Empire.”[3] Dante, we might say, helps lay the groundwork for conceiving of the civil government as truly an independent authority, not in any way subject to, or reliant upon, the church. The O’Donovans suggest that three key arguments animate De Monarchia:[4]
2. So O’Donovan and O’Donovan, From Irenaeus to Grotius, 413.
3. O’Donovan and O’Donovan, From Irenaeus to Grotius, 413.
4. These three come from O’Donovan and O’Donovan, From Irenaeus to Grotius, 413–14.
- “Universal monarchy alone brings the uninterrupted and all-encompassing peace that enables mankind to fulfill its divinely willed, natural task of actualizing the ‘possible intellect’ in its multifarious potentialities.”
- “Roman people acquired universal empire by divine and natural right.”
- “Since the goals and foundations of empire and church are so disparate, their earthly heads must be independently constituted and must act independently.”
In short, one of the most significant voices of the Middle Ages was arguing for the independence of civil government—especially the government of Rome. And his affirmation of the independence of the Roman government, including a kind of independence from the Roman Catholic church.
5. Martin Luther
Martin Luther (A.D. 1483–1546) wrote voluminously, and for our purposes we turn to his Temporal Authority: To What Extent It Should Be Obeyed (1523). We might also turn to The Address to the German Nobility (1520) or The Freedom of the Christian (1520), which also treat similar issues. Luther is rightly known as one who gave voice to a certain notion of “two realms” or “two kingdoms.” There is the temporal realm or kingdom and the spiritual realm or kingdom. These two realms or kingdoms have two different governments—essentially the civil government and the church. These two authorities, realms, or kingdoms, are generally independent and do not really overlap. Their “jurisdictions” are essentially separate. Both of these realms—in their different ways—nonetheless serve God’s purposes, and serve God’s kingdom. The civil government provides (at its best) at least basic justice in the world, which is especially a service to non-Christians. And of course, the church serves the purposes of God’s by being a gospel outpost in the world, providing the preaching of the gospel and the offering of the sacraments. Whether this general paradigm is ultimately satisfactory is another question.
6. John Calvin
John Calvin (A.D. 1509–1564) is one of the most important figures in the Reformation, being a central figure in that tradition we generally label “Reformed.” We will be considering his Institutes of the Christian Religion (published first in 1536, and being expanded and edited and reworked, with the final edition being published in 1559). If Luther is a (the) key proponent of his version of a “two-kingdom” theology, Calvin is the key proponent of a similar, but nonetheless distinct Christian political option, a “two-realm” political theology.
O’Donovan and O’Donovan’s comment is noteworthy: “John Calvin may largely take credit for conceiving and implementing a reintegration of political order and spiritual community that transformed the historical complexion of Reformation Christianity.”[5] Like Luther, Calvin will use the language and imagery of the “two kingdoms.” As Calvin sees it, there is a “twofold government in man . . .”—the spiritual and the political (Institutes III.XIX.15). These two realms or kingdoms exist—interestingly—in each person: “There are in man, so to speak, two worlds, over which different kings and different laws have authority.” (Institutes III.XIX.15). Calvin’s main treatment of civil government is found at the very end of Institutes, in the fourth book (IV.XX). For Calvin these two realms are “completely distinct” (Institutes IX.XX.1), but both are ultimately to serve God, and they are not “antithetical” (Institutes IV.XX.2). But Calvin is no modern. He can consider these two realms or kingdoms distinct, but nonetheless write:
5. O’Donovan and O’Donovan, From Irenaeus to Grotius, 662.
Yet civil government has its appointed end, so long as we live among men, to cherish and protect the outward worship of God, to defend sound doctrine of piety and the position of the church, to adjust our life to the society of men, to form our social behavior to civil righteousness, to reconcile us with another, and to promote general peace and tranquility” (Institutes IV.XX.2).
The civil magistrate is ordained by God and bears the power of the sword. Properly understood, the office of the civil magistrate extends “to both Tables of the Law” (Institutes IV.XX.9). Calvin offers a three-fold division of the Mosaic Law: moral, ceremonial, and judicial. The Law’s ceremonial and judicial components have been fulfilled in Christ, but the moral law is still binding, as it is “the true and eternal rule of righteousness, prescribed for men of all nations and times, who wish to conform their lives to God’s will” (Institutes IV.XX.15).
It is worth noting that Calvin argues that various nations all give testimony to fundamental or basic moral tenets and laws, and these are essentially consistent with the Mosaic Law (Institutes IV.XX.16). Finally, while civil government is ordained by God, he ends the Institutes by arguing that obedience to the civil magistrate should never lead to disobeying God (Institutes IV.XX.32). We will see this principle worked out in greater detail in Junius Brutus and Samuel Rutherford (see below).
7. Stephen Junius Brutus
“Stephen Junius Brutus” is clearly a pseudonym. Scholars suggest that the author is perhaps Hubert Languet or Philippe de Mornay (perhaps both?).[6] The work by Brutus in question is Vindiciae Contra Tyrannos (equals roughly, “A Legal Claim Against Tyrants”), published in 1579. This work is considered a key part of so-called “resistance theory” in Protestant political theory. The book contends that there is a proper time and context in which Christians can (and should) resist unjust rulers. Glenn Sunshine summarizes four questions which are at the heart of this work[7]:
6. See Glenn Sunshine, “Introduction,” in Stephen Brutus Junius, Vindiciae Contra Tyrannos: A Defense of Liberty Against Tyrants, translated by William Walker (Moscow, ID: Canon Press, 2020).
7. Sunshine, “Introduction,” v–vi.
- “whether subjects are obligated to obey princes when they command things contrary to God’s law” (Brutus’s answer is “no”).
- “whether subjects are obligated to resist princes when they command things contrary to God’s law” (Brutus’s answer is “no”).
- “whether and under what circumstances subjects can resist a prince who opposes God’s Word” (worked out in some detail in the work).
- “whether princes must aid subjects of another prince who are persecuted for their faith or are being tyrannically oppressed” (a “yes” concerning those who are persecuted, and a qualified “yes” concerning those persons being oppressed tyrannically).
Key to Vindiciae is the notion of covenant. God, the king, and the people are all related covenantally. Subjects are required to obey the civil magistrate when the magistrate is keeping his covenantal obligations. When the king becomes a tyrant, or breaks covenant, resisting the king is justified. However, it is the role of lesser or inferior magistrates to lead out in any attempt at resistance.
8. Johannes Althusius
Johannes Althusius (A.D. 1577–1638)[8] was a German Protestant Reformed political theorist, most well-known to us through his work, Politica, subtitled Politics Methodically Set Forth and Illustrated with Sacred and Profane Examples. It was published in 1604. Althusius is representative of a political stream of thought that might be most easily grasped by comparing and contrasting it to Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679), and Hobbes’s work, Leviathan (published in 1651).
8. At times in this section I am using material from my essay, “Althusius, Johannes,” in Oxford Guide to the Historical Reception of Augustine, edited by Karla Pollman (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013).
Hobbes held that persons are born free, but in a state of inextricable conflict and violence with other persons. In order to secure some safety and peace, these free persons grant political authority to a centralized political entity—“Leviathan.” And especially importantly, this transfer or granting of power is essentially a one-way transfer of power. Political “sovereignty” now rests with the “Leviathan.”
For Althusius, the “rights of [political] sovereignty” reside not in the magistrate (e.g., the king), but in “the commonwealth or universal association,” in the people themselves. That is, while political authority and power can be invested in a larger and centralized power, that delegation of power is never a transfer of power which can never be retracted. Political “sovereignty” still (even after power is delegated) ultimately remains with the people themselves. Additionally, in a commonwealth there are always a multitude of co-existing and overlapping “political” authorities and associations—city councils, county governments, trade unions, etc. Althusius even dares to look at the twelve tribes of Israel, and ponders what such a disbursement of power might mean for contemporary reflection on the nature of political power and statecraft. We might say that in our time, the “Hobbesian” vision of political authority “won.” Althusius “lost.” And—in one sense—we are all “Hobbesians” now. But perhaps the future of political stability, wisdom, and health might be restored by revisiting the wisdom of Althusius.
9. Samuel Rutherford
We are interested here with Rutherford’s Lex, Rex, (A.D. 1644) subtitled, A Dispute for the Just Prerogative of King and People: Containing the Reasons and Causes of the Most Necessary Defensive Wars of the Kingdom of Scotland, and of Their Expedition for the Aid and Help of Their Dear Brethren of England; in Which Their Innocency is Asserted, and a Full Answer is Given to a Seditions Pamphlet, Entitled “Sacro-Sancta Regum Majestas,” or The Sacred and Royal Prerogative of Christian Kings. Rutherford was Scottish and participated in the Westminster Assembly. In his Lex, Rex, Rutherford (A.D. 1600–61) spoke of “two kingdoms,” but made something very clear: the king himself is not the law, but is subject to the law. The king has a duty to obey the law, and is obligated to the people themselves, who have granted or delegated power to, the king. Rutherford could write that power is “unlimited in the people, and bounded and limited in the king, and so less in the king than in the people.”[9] We see themes that also appeared in Althusius’ Politica. Christian citizens have the duty to resist the magistrate when the magistrate has become tyrannical. We have here another brick in the wall of Protestant resistance theory. Also, since it is the people who grant the magistrate his power, the people have the authority to withdraw that power. Rutherford is arguing a full-throttled rejection of, and theological challenge to the “divine right of kings.” While Romans 13 must be a part of any biblical theology of the nature of political power and authority, the whole counsel of God must be worked through and applied. Rutherford was trying to offer just that sort of perspective.
9. Samuel Rutherford, Lex, Rex (Harrisonburg, V: Sprinkle Publications, 1980), 82; quoted in Douglas F. Kelly, The Emergence of Liberty in the Modern World: The Influence of Calvin on Five Governments from the 16th Through 18th Centuries (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 1992), 68.
10. Oliver O’Donovan (1945–)
Finally, we turn to perhaps the most important twentieth (and now twenty-first) century Protestant political theorist, Oliver O’Donovan. O’Donovan has taught at a number of universities, including Oxford, Edinburgh, and the University of Toronto. While he has written many works, we are especially interested in his The Desire of the Nations: Rediscovering the Roots of Political Theology (1996). Interestingly, O’Donovan notes that while he set out to “discover the kingship of Christ,” he has been accused of writing a “defence of Christendom.”[10] This is a dense work, and O’Donovan wrote that while The Desire of the Nations was something of a “political theology,” he hoped to follow-up with a “political ethics” (at least partially, or largely realized in his subsequent The Ways of Judgement and his three-volume Ethics as Theology, and his The Disappearance of Ethics).
10. Oliver O’Donovan, The Desire of the Nations: Rediscovering the Roots of Political Theology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), ix.
O’Donovan writes the following in The Desire of the Nations: “Theology needs more than scattered political images; it needs a full political conceptuality. And politics, for its part, needs a theological conceptuality. The two are concerned with the one history that finds its goal in Christ, ‘the desire of the nations.’”[11] “Political theology” is one sense inescapable: “theology is political simply by responding to the dynamics of its own proper themes.”[12] O’Donovan makes it clear that the faithful and thoughtful Christian cannot—if they are faithful—endlessly postpone or evade the question of “political theology.” He writes:
11. O’Donovan, The Desire of the Nations, 2.
12. O’Donovan, The Desire of the Nations, 3.
Political theology tries to recover faith in God, Christ and salvation what scepticism surrendered to mechanistic society. Theology must be political if it is to be evangelical. Rule out the political questions and you cut short the proclamation of God’s saving power; you leave people enslaved where they ought to be set free from sin—their own sin and others.[13]
13. O’Donovan, The Desire of the Nations, 3.
While dense, this work is necessary reading for contemporary persons wanting to engage one of the most important Christian political theologians of our era.
Conclusion
To keep this list to ten I am conscious of passing over a number of persons who could have been considered. We could have looked at John Knox (A.D. 1505–1572) and his “The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women,” or his “The Appellation of John Knox from the cruel and the most unjust sentence pronounced against him by the false bishops and clergy of Scotland to the nobility and estates of Scotland,” or his “Letter To His Beloved Brethren the Community of Scotland.” When we looked at Rutherford, we could also have considered George Buchanan’s De Jure Regni (1579). Moving to the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, one perhaps glaring omission is Abraham Kuyper (A.D. 1837–1920), whose notion of “sphere sovereignty” has resonated so significantly with Evangelicals during and since his time.
We admit to having passed over much of Catholic thought, too. One could advantageously turn to the Roman Catholic Catechism to begin to grasp the insights of Roman Catholic social theory and political understanding. Going further back, one could turn to Pope Boniface VIII’s papal bull, Unam Sanctam (1302), which offers a Catholic version of a “two-swords” understanding.
As far as overviews, I was immensely helped as a younger man by David Hall’s Savior or Servant: Putting Government in Its Place (republished in 2022). And with particular attention to liberty in the Calvinist tradition, I was also helped by Douglas F. Kelly, The Emergence of Liberty in the Modern World: The Influence of Calvin on Five Governments from the 16th Through the 18th Centuries (P&R, 1992). Indeed, of the writing (and reading!) of books there is no end, but attention to an immense literature dealing with questions of political power and authority, and how Christians can most wisely think (and act) in terms of these issues, is an important task. And with this list in hand, the budding political theologian is now ready to do the reading. Tolle Lege.
