1. Willem Van’t Spijker (editor). The Church’s Book of Comfort. Not for everyone, but if you are interested in the history, theology, and development of the Heidelberg Catechism this is the best scholarly introduction I’ve seen. Be prepared for long, strange Dutch names.

2. N.T. Wright. Justification: God’s Plan and Paul’s Vision. Too many dangerous spots to recommend except to those already well-grounded in the doctrines of justification, imputation, and faith alone.

3. Thomas Sowell. The Housing Boom and Bust. I’m not sure what it says about me, but I couldn’t put this book down. Clear, insightful, and informative. Everyone should read at least one book by Thomas Sowell.

4. Anthony Carter (editor). Glory Road: The Journeys of 10 African-Americans into Reformed Christianity. Encouraging, gospel-centered, and dare I say, inspiring. I’m thankful for this book, and even more thankful for the work of God represented by this book.

5. Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert. When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor and Yourself. Best book on helping the poor that I’ve read. Pastors, deacons, missions committees, any interested in helping the poor–you really must read this book. (I’ll do a lengthy review of the book next week).

1. Gordon Wenham. The Book of Leviticus (NICOT) – The best Leviticus commentary I have. Theological, readable, believing.

2. Derek Tidball. The Message of Leviticus (Bible Speaks Today) – Also an excellent commentary. Very strong in application, occasionally over-applies.

3. Robert I. Vasholz. Leviticus (A Mentor Commentary). Information is usually solid, but spends too much time on word studies for my tastes. I also find the structure of the book a bit baffling.

4. Tremper Longman III. Immanuel in Our Place: Seeing Christ in Israel’s Worship. Helpful introduction to a lot passages that often seem dull to modern ears.

5. Scott Klusendorf. The Case for Life: Equipping Christians to Engage the Culture. Superb field manual for responding to abortion choice arguments. Well-worth owning and studying.

6. Herman Bavinck. Saved By Grace: The Holy Spirit’s Work in Calling and Regeneration. Reading Bavinck is always beneficial. Clear, astute thought on an old controversy that still has relevance today. Mark Beach’s Introduction is fantastic.

7. Seth Davis. When March Went Mad: The Game That Transformed Basketball. This is the story of 1979 NCAA Championship Game, Michigan State v. Indiana State (aka, Magic v. Bird). Pure fun, especially if you live in Lansing and work in East Lansing. Loved it.

8. Stephen J. Nichols and Eric T. Brandt. Ancient Word, Changing Worlds: The Doctrine of Scripture in a Modern Age. Not a book giving the doctrine of Scripture, but a book about the history of the doctrine of Scripture. A handy reference.

9. E.M. Bounds. Power Through Prayer. Eminently quotable, and very inspiring (and convicting).

10. James K. Hoffmeier. The Immigration Crisis: Immigrants, Aliens, and the Bible. Accessible introduction to a thorny issue. Well worth reading.

*****
Bonus Coverage: Here are Hoffmeier’s conclusions, quoted directly from the end of The Immigration Crisis. Whether you agree or disagree, you would benefit from reading the book and weighing his exegetical arguments.

On Nations and Governments:
Since biblical times countries have had the right to clearly established secure borders that they controlled and were recognized by surrounding governments, travel tribes and individuals. Furthermore, nations, including Israel of the Bible, had the right to determine who entered their land and under what circumstances, and they could confer resident or alien status to foreigners should it be mutually beneficial. The same is true today, I maintain.

Legal Areas:
Cities and municipalities who offer sanctuary for illegal aliens do so without the support of biblical law. Because biblical sanctuary was only intended to allow the innocent party to get a fair hearing in trial, and not for the purpose of sheltering lawbreakers from the authorities and agents of the state, cities that provide a safe haven for illegal immigrants, well intending to be a gesture of justice, are in fact violating federal law and are misappropriating biblical law.

Social Area:
Today aliens (i.e. legal immigrants) who are needs should be extended governmental social services such as welfare, unemployment, food stamps, job training and other benefits offered to disadvantaged citizens…However, as the gleaning laws remind us, the poor and the aliens actually had to go out and work in the fields to get the grains and fruits (Lev. 19:9-10; 32:33; Deut. 24:19-21).

On Immigrants:
The Bible clearly distinguishes between the status of a legal alien (ger) and a foreigner (nekhar and zar), and one consequence of this is that there really is a difference between the legal standing of a present-day documented alien and an illegal immigrant. Therefore it is a legally and morally acceptable for a government to deal with those in the country illegally according to the nation’s legal provisions. The Christian insists, however, that they be dealt with in a human manner. Expatriation (as Abraham experienced) in itself is not inhumane, but it must not be done in a heartless manner.”

On Employers:
Employers who discriminate against workers because they are perceived to be powerless and lack legal protection and consequently pay them below the standard wage need to be appropriately sanctioned and fully prosecuted…Furthermore, when employees are paid “off the books”, as is the case with many illegal immigrants, the state is deprived of revenue. Hence, employers are obliged morally and legally to follow the rule of law and the ethical principles of the Bible by treating alien and citizen in hiring and compensation.

On Church and Religious Institutions:
People who take the teaching of Scripture seriously and want to treat people graciously will no doubt struggle to find an ethical and legal balance between helping those who are needy on the one hand and yet are residing in the nation illegally on the other. Then too one must accept the fact that the Old Testament law draws a distinction between the legal alien and the foreigner. Consequently, the Christian will continue to wrestle with being compassionate and yet recognizing that illegal immigrants, like themselves, need to submit to the laws of the land. Despite this quandry there are plenty of foreigners, refugees, and immigrants who legally reside in America, Canada, or Britain whom churches and religious institutions can assist.

UPDATE: We have our free book winners. Thank you to everyone who emailed. I’m hoping to put the “why I love my church” responses into a blog post so folks can read about all the good things churches are doing.

I now have my copy of Why We Love the Church: In Praise of Institutions and Organized Religion. The book is in stock at Amazon and should be available at bookstores everywhere (probably, not really everywhere, but you get the drift). Read through to the end of the post to find how to get a free copy of Why We Love the Church.

One more excerpt, this one is from my introduction.

*****

If decapitation, from the Latin word caput, means to cut off the head, then it stands to reason that decorpulation, from the Latin word corpus, should refer to cutting off the body. It’s the perfect word to describe the content of this book. If our editors had been asleep at the wheel, we could have called it Recent Trends in Decorpulation. There is a growing movement among self-proclaimed evangelicals and in the broader culture to get spirituality without religion, to find a relationship without rules, and have God without the church. More and more, people are looking for a decorpulated Christianity.

Judging by the popularity of recent books like George Barna’s Revolution and William P. Young’s The Shack and the example of prominent Christians like John Eldredge, there are a lot of Christians who feel like current versions of church just don’t cut it. More than a few have already left their churches, and the number of the disaffected seems to be growing. At the very least the “we want God, not an institution” mantra has struck a chord with many formal, informal, and former churchgoers. So we have books like Life After Church, Divine Nobodies, Dear Church, Quitting Church, and So You Don’t Want to Go to Church Anymore, not to mention Frank Viola’s church-as-we-know-it-is-all-wrong book Pagan Christianity and volumes like UnChristian and They Like Jesus but Not the Church, which explore why outsiders are turned off by the church.

The narrative is becoming so commonplace, you could Mad Lib it:

The institutional church is so (pejorative adjective). When I go to church I feel completely (negative emotion). The leadership is totally (adjective you would use to describe Richard Nixon) and the people are (noun that starts with un-). The services are (adjective you might use to describe going to the dentist), the music is (adjective you would use to describe the singing on Barney), and the whole congregation is (choose among: “passive,” “comatose,” “hypocritical,” or “Rush Limbaugh Republicans”). The whole thing makes me (medical term).

I had no choice but to leave the church. My relationship with (spiritual noun) is better than ever. Now I meet regularly with my (relational noun, pl.) and talk about (noun that could be the focus of a liberal arts degree) and Jesus. We really care for each other. Sometimes we even (choose among: “pray for each other,” “feed the homeless together,” or “share power tools”). This is church like it was meant to be. After all, (insert: “Where two or three are gathered, there I am in the midst of you,” or “the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life,” or “we don’t have to go to church, we are the church”). I’m not saying everyone needs to do what I’ve done, but if you are tired of (compound phrase that begins with “institutional” or ends with “as-we-know-it”), I invite you to join the (noun with political overtones) and experience (spiritual noun) like you never will by sitting in a (choose among the following architectural put-downs: “wooden pew,” “steepled graveyard,” “stained-glassed mausoleum,” or “glorified concert hall”) week after week. When will the (biblical noun) starting being the (same biblical noun)?

*****
The first five people to email me at pastor@urc-msu.org will get a free copy of Why We Love the Church. Just include your name and mailing address and one thing you love about your local church; put “Free Book” in the subject line. Sorry, international emailers (with the exception of Canada) are not be eligible. I love you folks, but the post ain’t as cheap as email.

If you’ve won a free copy, we’ll email you and let you know. If you don’t get a response, it means you need to get up earlier. But remember, even if you don’t get a free copy, there’s always Amazon.

Why We Love the Church should be released by the end of the month. In the past month I’ve given a couple excerpts from the book. They’ve been from my chapters. Ted Kluck wrote the other half of the chapters. Ted is a gifted writer and I’m so thankful to have worked with him on another project.

Here’s a few paragraphs from Ted’s chapter “Turn the Page.”

*****

Perhaps I’m just sick of revolutionaries. I am thirty-two years old, and am a part of the generation that has probably purchased more Che Guevara posters than any other generation in history. You know the poster. It’s the one that shows Che bearded, in his beret, looking larger than life. It is often accompanied on the wall by a Bob Marley poster, or the John Belushi poster in which he wears a sweatshirt emblazoned with the word “College.” We’re big on revolutionaries. We’re big on changing the world. We’re big, also, on not being ordinary.

A search on a popular Christian bookseller’s Web site revealed no less than sixty-two items with the word manifesto in the title and hundreds containing the term revolutionary. There are revolutionary books for teens. Ditto for stay-at-home moms. There’s a book about how Jesus was a revolutionary communicator, and how you can use His revolutionary communication skills in your home/business/church. The question then becomes, If we’re all revolutionaries, are any of us an actual revolutionary? Being a revolutionary used to mean that you overthrew a government; now it means that you’re a courageous enough visionary to have church on a golf course or in someone’s living room.

My point in all of this is not to make not-so-subtle jabs at revolutionary culture (maybe a little bit); rather, it is to encourage the scores of nonrevolutionaries in our midst, of which I am one. I want to encourage those of us who try really hard to pray for our families and friends, try to read our Bibles consistently, and share the gospel with those around us. Those of us who aren’t ready to chuck centuries worth of church history, and years of unglamorous but God-glorifying growth in the name of revolution.

I’m also a part of the generation that has produced more memoirs before the age of thirty-five than any other in history. We’re crazy about Christian narrative nonfiction, especially those “on the road” stories, no matter how trite or contrived they may be. We’re journeyers. We’re wanderers. We still haven’t found what we’re looking for. Jack Kerouac’s (or Donald Miller’s…or Lauren Winner’s) wayward children are all over the Christian book landscape.

These narrative titles all follow a similar pattern, in that in them experiences are had (a cross-country road trip, a self-finding excursion through Europe, a documentary chronicling the lameness of American Christians, a chronicle on how the author dropped out of church and subsequently “found” Jesus), and then those experiences are shared in book form. Many of these books are supposed to tell us that “community” is the answer, and individualism is bad, but at the end of the day these books are largely about the individual and his or her discoveries.

Here are a few powerful paragraphs (originally part of one paragraph) from The Reformed Pastor. If you are a pastor, read this excerpt through twice. Better yet, read it through once a month. It hurts so good.

*****

Content not yourselves with being in a state of grace, but be also careful that your graces are kept in vigorous and lively exercise, and that you preach to yourselves the sermons which you study, before you preach them to others. If you did this for your own sakes, it would not be lost labour; but I am speaking to you upon the public account, that you would do it for the sake of the Church. When your minds are in a holy, heavenly frame, your people are likely to partake of the fruits of it. Your prayers, and praises, and doctrine will be sweet and heavenly to them. They will likely feel when you have been much with God: that which is most on your hearts, is like to be most in their ears.

I confess I must speak it by lamentable experience, that I publish to my flock the distempers of my own soul. When I let my heart grow cold, my preaching is cold; and when it is confused, my preaching is confused; and so I can oft observe also in the best of my hearers, that when I have grown cold in preaching. We are the nurses of Christ’s little ones. If we forbear taking food ourselves, we shall famish them; it will soon be visible in their leanness, and dull discharge of their several duties. If we let our love decline, we are not like to raise up theirs. If we abate our holy care and fear, it will appear in our preaching: if the matter show it not, the manner will. If we feed on unwholesome food, either errors or fruitless controversies, our hearers are like to fare the worse for it. Whereas, if we abound in faith, and love, and zeal, how would it overflow to the refreshing of our congregations, and how would it appear in the increase of the same graces in them!

O brethren, watch therefore over your own hearts: keep out lusts and passions, and worldly inclinations; keep up the life of faith, and love, and zeal: be much at home, and be much with God. If it be not your daily business to study your own hearts, and to subdue corruption, and to walk with God – if you make not this a work to which you constantly attend, all will go wrong, and you will starve your hearers; or, if you have an affected fervency, you cannot expect a blessing to attend it from on high.

Above all, be much in secret prayer and meditation. Thence you must fetch the heavenly fire that must kindle your sacrifices: remember, you cannot decline and neglect your duty, to your own hurt alone; many will be losers by it as well as you. For your people’s sakes, therefore, look to your hearts.

I’ve noted before that I like to begin my devotional time in the morning by reading either a classic or a book by someone dead. Recently I’ve been working my way through Herman Bavinck’s Saved by Grace: The Holy Spirit’s Work in Calling and Regeneration. This work, which is separate from his four volume Dogmatics, focuses on the controversy in his day surrounding immediate regeneration and presumptive regeneration.

Since I have Anabaptists on the brain, I thought it would be worthwhile to quote Bavinck’s discussion on Anabaptist mysticism (which I’m not equating with the Neo-Anabaptists). After noting that the Anabaptists often referenced an internal light or inner Word as their authority, Bavinck comments more broadly about mysticism.

Its fundamental idea, although modified in a Christian way within Christian circles, is essential to all mysticism, wherever it has appeared–whether in India or Greece, in Persia or Egypt. Simply stated, it is this: in order to find truth or life or salvation–in a word, to find God–a person need not go outside of himself but need only descend within himself. God dwells within a person, making His abode within the person either through nature or through a special, supernatural descent into the person. After all, religion does not involve doctrine or activity, thinking or doing, but religion involves living in God, union and communion with God, which can be enjoyed only in the depths of one’s psyche, in the immediacy of one’s consciousness (72).

Bavinck disagrees with this kind of mysticism, but he does not think it is without any short-term positive results.

When this notion has been expressed at any time in history by a person of deep seriousness and firm conviction, finding warm and enthusiastic agreement within any circle small or large, it frequently give birth to exuberance, courage, enthusiasm, and deep and glorious mysticism. This was the case at first with the Anabaptists as well. At that time there were many upright believers among them, many genuine children of God. Whatever one might say about the Anabaptists, one must never forget that in large numbers and with remarkable courage of faith, they sacrificed their goods and their blood for the cause of the Lord (73).

Having given this warm commendation, Bavinck goes on to state the danger of Anabaptist mysticism.

But the principle soon manifested its mistaken implications. First, people came to be satisfied with the internal Word alone, despising Scripture and church, office and sacrament, appealing to private revelations and becoming guilty of various excesses. Second, when the initial exuberance was past, gradually the internal Word was robbed of it special, supernatural character, coming to be more and more identified with the natural light of reason and conscience. Abstract supra-naturalism was followed by rationalism…The internal light came gradually to be identified, as with the Quakers, for example, with the light of nature. In both instances, however, Scripture contained nothing other than what a person had already learn by God’s Spirit (73).

The pattern has been repeated many times. People start to pay less and less attention to Scripture, saying it has errors or it can’t be understood or it’s less spiritual than the Spirit within us. Exuberance, courage, and activity follow as people feel alive and less shackled by “tradition” and fixed propositions. With their new found inner truth, these people grow dissatisfied with sermons, notions of authority, and Church-as-we-know-it. More exuberance. But eventually the excitement wears off. The activity dies down. What’s left is the internal Word, which, it turns out, is no different from our own opinions, convictions, and desires.

Without an outer, objective Word, the internal Word always gives way to rationalism, because in appealing to our inner sense of things, we end up just appealing to our own reason. Over time, then, Scripture is increasingly silenced, as we continue doing and thinking what we want, and Scripture is consulted only to confirm what we already “know.” The result is a cold, lifeless church, without the power of God or the truth of God’s word.

Awhile back I noticed on Doug Wilson’s blog that he keeps a book log of the books he’s read and makes a very brief comment on each one. I liked the concept so much that I’ve decided to copy it. The point of this log is not 1) to get you to read all these books, nor 2) to make you think I read a lot of books. Some months I read a lot, some months not as much. And even with the books I read, I don’t read them all the same way. Most I read carefully, but some I skim through more quickly. I believe strongly that growing Christians will be reading books, but there is no necessary correlation between the number of books one reads and how much that person is growing in Christlikeness.

The reasons for the log are: 1) to keep track of my reading for myself, 2) because people often ask me “what are your reading?”, 3) to highlight good books that can help us think more biblically and follow Christ more fruitfully, 4) to point to fun books, 5) to offer assessment on books that are not as helpful, and 6) to nurture the bibliophile in us all.

I’ll post the log at the end of each month.

May
1. F.A. Hayek. The Road to Serfdom. Dense reading at times, but brilliant in places. One of the most significant books of the last 65 years.

2. Mark Noll. God and Race in American Politics. Very good. Fair and balanced.

3. G.K. Chesterton. Orthodoxy. Genius, witty, classic. Everyone should read (and re-read) Chesterton (but please disregard the anti-Calvinist lines).

4. Scott McConnell. Multi-Site Churches: Guidance for the Movement’s Next Generation. Good practical advice, a little light on theological reflection.

5. Jay Richards. Money, Greed, and God: Why Capitalism is the Solution and Not the Problem. Accessible and informed. The most engaging, readable, and thoughtful Christian defense of Capitalism out there.

6. Paul Miller. A Praying Life: Connecting with God in a Distracting World. One of the best books on prayer I’ve ever read. Read it and you’ll want to pray more.

7. P.G. Wodehouse. The Code of the Woosters. Funny as always, with a marvelously intricate plot.

8. Thomas Krannwitter. Vindicating Lincoln: Defending the Politics of our Greatest President. Thorough, learned, and persuasive. Would have been nice to have the book 50-100 pages shorter.

Of the writing of Christian books on prayer there is no end. I’ve read many of them and this one is right up there with my favorites (tied perhaps with anything Ben Patterson writes on prayer). Paul Miller, the son of Jack and Rose Marie Miller (of the Sonship courses and World Harvest Mission), has written a wonderfully helpful book called A Praying Life: Connecting with God in a Distracting World.

Rather than trying to explain a book on prayer (hint: it’s about praying), I thought I’d give a few selections I found helpful or provocative.

• The quest for a contemplative life can actually be self-absorbed, focused on my quiet and me. If we love people and have the power to help, then we are going to be busy. Learning to pray doesn’t offer us a less busy life; it offers us a less busy heart. In the midst of outer busyness we can develop an inner quiet (23).

• Because cynicism sees what is “really going on,” it feels real, authentic. That gives cynicism an elite status since authenticity is one of the last remaining public virtues in our culture (78).

• David has been off by himself, separated from the current of unbelief dominating his culture, developing a rich walk with the Shepherd. David’s obscurity has protected him from the cynical spirit of the age. His public faith and private practice are in harmony. His normal is experiencing God’s presence in the valley of the shadow of death, where he has killed both lions and bears with his sling. Goliath just looks like a big bear. The result? Israel’s unbelief feels odd, out of place (94).

• Individualism goes back to the Judeo-Christian heritage (144).

• That’s why I prefer the biblical term wisdom to our more common term guidance. Guidance means I’m driving the car and asking God which way to go. Wisdom is richer, more personal. I don’t just need help with my plans; I need help with my questions and even my own heart (145).

• God takes everyone he loves through a desert. It is his cure for our wandering hearts, restlessly searching for a new Eden. Here’s how it works. The first thing that happens is we slowly give up the fight. Our wills are broken by the reality of our circumstances. The things that brought us life gradually die. Our idols die for lack of food (184).

Read the book. I found in it much wisdom, honesty, and hope. The best thing I can say about it is that after reading the book I not only want to pray more, but feel like I can.

When I’m not reading history or theology I am often reading economics. I find the interplay between Christian commitment and economics fascinating, and filled with misunderstandings. If you’ve ever had questions about capitalism, and in particular whether or not a generous Christian can really support capitalism, I would encourage you to read Jay Richards’ new book Money, Greed, and God: Why Capitalism is the Solution and Not the Problem. Whether the title makes you say “Amen” or makes you want to roll your eyes into the back of your head, I would recommend this book as the best, most easily accessible, defense of capitalism from a Christian perspective.

Here is an interview with Jay Richards I conducted by email.

1. Tell us a little bit about yourself. Where are you from? What is your current vocation? Are you married? Do you have children?

I was born and raised in Amarillo, TX. I am married to Ginny (we just celebrated our eighteenth anniversary), and we have two lovely daughters, Gillian (10) and Ellie (6).

I worked full time at Discovery Institute for 7 1/2 years (in Seattle) and at Acton Institute for three years. We attended a CRC Church in Grand Rapids. At the moment, though, we’re out in the Seattle area while my wife finishes some course work for a masters degree. I’m getting to write full time as a Visiting Fellow at the Heritage Foundation. We’re writing a series of booklets on economic topics for ordinary, non-wonkish, people. I’m also editing a collection of articles designed to bridge the growing divide between social and fiscal conservatives. It’s scheduled to be released in late summer.

2. How did you become a Christian? What is your current church like and how are you involved?

I attended a mainline Presbyterian Church in Amarillo, and was a more or less conventional, mainline, Christian. In college, I had a crisis of faith, but was brought back from the brink through the writings of C.S. Lewis.

3. You didn’t always see the benefit to a market economy. Tell us a little bit about your story as you moved from strong opposition to capitalism to seeing the Christian virtues on the free market.

In college, I fell for many of the socialist-left ideas popular at the time (and which are regrettably making a comeback). Happily, I happened to read some good economics, including a terrific book on Marxism by Thomas Sowell. I also read Ayn Rand, which destroyed the vision of collectivism. By the time I was a senior in college, the luster of socialism had worn off. But it will still several years before I thought a Christian could defend capitalism. I suppose I had accepted Rand’s argument, but rejected the idea that greed was a virtue. I thought capitalism “worked,” but was still morally problematic. Once I read George Gilder’s Wealth and Poverty, and Michael Novak’s The Spirit of Democratic Capitalism, I changed my mind. This was actually when I was at Union Seminary in Virginia, and having to read Gustavo Gutierrez’s Theology of Liberation for the third time. I went looking for a counterbalance, and discovered Gilder and Novak.

4. In your book, you unpack eight mistakes Christians make with economics. I don’t want to make you rewrite the whole book for this interview, but could you give a one sentence description of each myth?

Here’s how I summarize the eight myths in my book:

The nirvana myth (contrasting capitalism with an unrealizable ideal rather than with its live alternatives)
The piety myth (focusing on our good intentions rather than the unintended consequences of our actions)
The zero-sum game myth (believing that trade requires a winner and a loser)
The materialist myth (believing that wealth isn’t created, it’s simply transferred)
The greed myth (believing that the essence of capitalism is greed)
The usury myth (believing that charging interest on money is always exploitative)
The artsy myth (confusing aesthetic judgments with economic arguments)
The freeze frame myth (believing that things always stay the same—for example, assuming that population trends will continue indefinitely or treating a current “natural resource” as if it will always be needed)

I linked the myths to eight corresponding questions:

Can’t we build a just society?
What does God require of us as Christians?
Doesn’t capitalism foster unfair competition?
If I become rich, won’t someone else become poor?
Isn’t capitalism based on greed?
Has Christianity ever really embraced capitalism?
Doesn’t capitalism lead to an ugly consumerist culture?
Do we take more than our fair share? That is, isn’t our modern
lifestyle causing us to use up all the natural resources?

I struggled with this taxonomy for a while, but I do think the vast majority of bad thinking on economics among Christians can be placed in one of these eight categories.

5. Do you recommend that churches offer fair trade coffee?

In general, I don’t think fair trade coffee makes sense economically (see pages 39-42), although I also don’t think it’s as problematic as many coercive strategies, such as wealth redistribution. I’ve recently learned that there is some diversity among fair trade organizations, especially among Christian ministries. On the other hand, I wouldn’t want to speak too harshly of fair trade without nuancing, since it is normally an expression of a charitable impulse, and it appears, at least on the surface, to be a market-oriented way of dealing with third world poverty.

6. On page 35, you write “Spiritually you’re better off a little mixed up about economics than indifferent to human suffering. Economically, though, only what you do is important, whatever your reason.” This seems to be a very important point for the book. What are you trying to say in these two sentences?

When I wrote: “Spiritually you’re better off a little mixed up about economics than indifferent to human suffering. Economically, though, only what you do is important, whatever your reason,” I was trying to balance but capture Gilson’s “Piety is no substitute for technique.” To me, this is one of most important points I’ve tried to make. Motivation IS important when we’re considering our spiritual state before God. It’s just that our motivation for a policy has nothing to do with the real world effects of the policy. I think that Christians often weight our (and others’) motivations far too heavily on economic matters. It’s as if we think feeling bad about poverty is more obligatory than actually doing something that helps the poor. For instance, several times in churches I’ve pointed out why minimum wage laws don’t really help the poor in the long run. I’ve never had anyone try to debunk the argument, but several times I’ve received the complaint that my argument shows that I’m not really concerned about the poor. It doesn’t of course. But even if it were evidence that I weren’t concerned about the poor, the argument’s validity (or lack thereof) would remain the same.

7. I’m sure that you will get some feedback from libertarians for your critique of Ayn Rand. Some might be surprised that you would criticize Rand in a book promoting free market capitalism. What, in your opinion, does Rand get wrong?

My criticism of Rand is central to my argument. In my view, she rightly defended free markets, limited government, and the importance of entrepreneurs, but she located those arguments in a deeply flawed atheistic philosophy. Without going into all the problems with Objectivism, I criticize her defense of greed, as well as her identification of greed with capitalism. I also argue that she confuses Adam Smith’s arguments about self-interest with selfishness. If Rand is right about capitalism, it seems to me, then it would be very hard for Christians to be capitalists. That said, as I mention in the book, Rand actually was important in helping me to purge my socialist sympathies.

8. You finish the book with “Ten Ways to Alleviate Poverty; or, Creating Wealth in Ten Tough Steps.” Why are the rule of law (number one) and a formal property system (number three) so important to the alleviation of poverty?

Rule of law is a prerequisite for a free market even to exist. A free market is not anarchy, as some critics who talk about “unbridled capitalism” seem to imply. For a market to be free, exchanges must be voluntary, which means they must be perceived as a benefit for all participants. This is what makes a free market a positive-sum game by definition. If the strong can steal from their weaker neighbors with impunity, in contrast, they have little motivation for looking for win-win exchanges. Rule of law encourages participants in a market to seek out exchanges that are mutually beneficial, even if the participants have immoral motives. That’s a good thing.

In arguing for the importance of private property and titling in raising people out of poverty, I’m following Hernando de Soto’s important arguments in The Mystery of Capital. These laws and methods allow land to become assets, to become property, to be compared with and traded with other assets. This opens up all sorts of wealth-creating activities that the first world takes for granted, but which is still lacking in much of the developing world.

9. You go out of your way to argue that the universe is divinely ordered and purposeful. What difference does this make for our approach to economics?

I think that a culture’s general beliefs about the nature of reality can have significant economic consequences. For instance, if one believes that the world is orderly and designed for a purpose, one is more likely to look for, and discover, aspects of that order. Moreover, these beliefs can encourage optimism, delayed gratification and a motivation to make the world a better place. Finally, it prevents one from reducing economics to materialism. The most important truths of economics emerge from the reality of the human person. That reality requires a theological/philosophical framework that can accommodate it.

Of course, to offset utopian tendencies, these beliefs are best tempered with a healthy realization of our flaws. In the Christian worldview, original sin fulfills this function.

10. What advice would you give pastors as they preach on money?

I would have two main words of advice for any pastor who wants to preach about money. First, look carefully at the what Scripture and the Christian tradition actually say about money. Second, get acquainted with some basic truths of economics. There are empirical realities in economics, just as there are in chemistry and physics. It’s not all hopelessly laden with ideology. And it doesn’t require advanced degrees in economics. If a pastor shows that he understands some economics, he’s much more likely to be taken seriously when he speaks prophetically about money to his parishioners. I suppose I wrote the book, in part, to help pastors do just that.

Here’s another excerpt from Why We Love the Church. (Ah, the quick and easy way to blog–copy and paste).

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If getting the story wrong, or at least less nuanced than it should be, is the biggest danger with confessing the church’s sins, the other big danger is that we are not really confessing any of our own mistakes. Back in 1940, C.S. Lewis penned a striking article for The Guardian entitled “Dangers of National Repentance.” His basic point is that it is always dangerous when we are apologizing for something we disdain in someone else. Some solidarity with your country or your own history can be a good thing, but is can also easily turn into the sin of pride where we “confess” all the stupid things our benighted forefathers weren’t smart enough to avoid. “The first and fatal charm of national repentance is, therefore, the encouragement it gives us to turn from the bitter task of repenting of our own sins to the congenial one of bewailing—but, first, of denouncing—the conduct of others.”

More recently, physician and essayist Theodore Dalrymple has labeled this phenomenon the “False Apology Syndrome.” The syndrome is dangerous because it allows us to feel good without having to be good. We get all of the moral high ground that comes with confession and none of the personal pain. “The habit of public apology for things for which one bears no personal responsibility changes the whole concept of a virtuous person, from one who exercises the discipline of virtue to one who expresses correct sentiment. The most virtuous person of all is he who expresses it loudest and to most people. The end result is likely to be self-satisfaction and ruthlessness accompanied by unctuous moralizing, rather than a determination to behave well.” We get to feel grandiose for “our” guilt without actually having to change.

It would not take guts for me to stand on my soap box in Kenya and confess America’s high divorce rate, our alarming number of out-of-wedlock births, and the countless abortions we perform. Nor would it be big of me to preach a series of sermons apologizing for the church’s faults where I lament our wicked popes, our positive thinking Jesus, and our watered-down seeker friendly megaplexes. I already think all of those are wrong and I always have. And I have no part in them. What courage or humility does it take for me to “apologize” for these wrongs when none of them are mine? Such a sermon series would be viewed as thinly disguised disdain for other people’s problems.

Now, if at one time I had championed these things, then maybe my confession would be worth something. “When a man over forty tries to repent the sins of England and to love her enemies,” writes Lewis, “he is attempting something costly; for he was brought up to certain patriotic sentiments which cannot be mortified without a struggle. But an educated man who is now in his twenties usually has no such sentiment to mortify. In art, in literature, in politics, he has been, ever since he can remember, one of an angry and restless minority; he has drunk in almost with his mother’s milk a distrust of English statesmen and a contempt for the manners, pleasures, and enthusiasm of his less-education fellow countrymen.”

Younger generation today face these same dangers with regard to the church. In confessing all the sins of the church, we have everything to gain and nothing to mortify. This isn’t to suggest that the church hasn’t gotten things dreadfully wrong, but it is to suggest that slavery and the crusades are not the things thirty-something Americans are likely to get wrong today. We would do well to listen to Lewis from seven decades ago: “The communal sins which they should be told to repent are those of their own age and class—its contempt for the uneducated, its readiness to suspect evil, its self-righteous provocations of public obloquy, its breaches of the Fifth Commandment. Of these sins I have heard nothing among them. Till I do, I must think their candour towards the national enemy a rather inexpensive virtue.”