C. S. Lewis: A Life by Alister McGrath

Hodder, 2013, 431pp

When C. S. Lewis died on 22 November 1963 his passing was overshadowed by the assassination on that same day of US President Kennedy. Even the UK media gave scant attention to the life, achievements and death of one of the key Christian voices of the 20th century. By the end of his days Lewis was in danger of becoming a forgotten man. It perhaps seemed that interest in his writings would dwindle, as sometimes happens with authors who have their moment, and then largely fade from public awareness. 

That was not the case with C. S. Lewis. There has been a revival of interest in both his life and works in recent years. In the Christian world, Tim Keller for one has championed Lewis's approach to apologetics. In the wider culture the Chronicles of Narnia are still much loved children's stories, with adaptations by the BBC and several Hollywood films based on the books. Shadowlands starring Anthony Hopkins explored Lewis's relationship with Joy Davidman. 

Many people are aware of at least the barest outline of C.S. Lewis's life; Ulsterman, Oxford scholar, the Inklings, Mere Christianity, Screwtape, Narnia, the Davidman affair and all that. In this excellent biography Alister McGrath helps to fill in the gaps, bringing Lewis to life as a brilliant, if flawed human being. McGrath is well qualified to write this life, hailing as he does from Northern Ireland, an Oxford Academic and theologian to boot. In preparation for this biography the author read Lewis's vast correspondence in chronological order, which proved an important source of insight. 

In McGrath Lewis has a sympathetic, but by no means uncritical biographer and one who is not afraid to challenge conventionally accepted aspects of the Lewis story, even those propounded by the man himself. A close reading of Lewis's letters leads McGrath to propose a revised chronology of his subject's conversion experience. All to do with bluebells, apparently. Lewis's relationship with women as it emerges in these pages was a bit odd, from Mrs. Moore, to Joy Davidman, whom he married to enable her to remain in England rather than return to America. Yes, they fell in love later, but still. 

As a young man Lewis turned his back upon Ulster Protestantism and became an atheist, confirmed in his unbelief by his experiences as a soldier in World War I. But his atheism left him feeling unsatisfied. While lecturing at Oxford Lewis came to believe in God and then under the influence of his friend J. R. R. Tolkein he came to see that Christianity was the 'true myth' that helped to make sense of the world. By June 1932 (according to McGrath's chronology), Lewis became convinced of the deity of Christ when travelling by bus to Whipsnade Zoo. 

Lewis's initial attempts to convince others of the truth of Christianity were of a highly intellectual variety, exemplified by his books, The Pilgrim's Regress and The Problem of Pain. He found a more popular audience for his reworked BBC Radio addresses published under the title Mere Christianity. Although an Anglican, Lewis had little time for denominational labels and devoted scant attention to doctrinal disputes. The Chronicles or Narnia were an attempt on Lewis's part to show his readers the truth of  Christian faith by appealing to their imagination rather than by the use of rational argument. McGrath is insightful on the genesis of the Narnia stories and how Lewis used them to convey key aspects of the Christian message, especially through Aslan, the Christ-like hero of Narnia. 

C. S. Lewis, was, of course an academic and McGrath describes some of the tensions and difficulties Lewis encountered at Oxford University. While he produced some solid academic works in the field of English literature, fellow academics appeared to dislike Lewis's Christian faith and resented the attention he attracted as a popular apologist. Hence the move to Cambridge later in Lewis's career. 

20th century evangelicals seemed to have viewed Lewis with some suspicion. McGrath cites D. M. Lloyd-Jones's view that he was 'unsound on a number of issues, chiefly relating to the doctrine of salvation'. No doubt those looking for doctrinal instruction shouldn't make Lewis their first port of call. We can go elsewhere for that. Lewis's life story is testament to the fact that the believer is at one and the same time 'righteous and a sinner'. 

Lewis's use of the imagination in apologetics has much to recommend it. Many parents (us included) have read some if not all of the Lewis's Narnia titles to their children. Enduring interest in the Chronicles of Narnia gives the church a point of contact with the culture. At a time when the Christian story is fading from public consciousnesses in the West, the magnificent figure of Aslan, especially in his substitutionary death and resurrection acts as a signpost to the Lion of the Tribe of Judah. 

Alister McGrath has given us a fine introduction to the life and writings of C. S. Lewis. Well worth a look. 

Inventing the Universe by Alister McGrath

Hodder & Stoughton, 2016, 247pp

Many people believe that science has disproved the Christian faith, or at least that science and Christianity are in conflict, with science the hands-down winner. As a teenage atheist the author of this book would have pretty much agreed with that scenario. But then he began to have doubts. It dawned on him that while science has helped us understand the workings of the natural world, it cannot provide a framework for living a fulfilled and purposeful life. For that kind of thing we have to go beyond the confines of empirical research and scientific theory.

The likes of Richard Dawkins seek to perpetuate the conflict between science and faith, but as McGrath demonstrates, a more harmonious relationship between these two perspectives on life can be achieved. Christian thinkers believed that the rational world is capable of rational explanation because it was created by a wise and rational God. That very idea helped to give birth to modern science. 

In calling in to question the conflict narrative beloved of the new atheists, McGrath explodes some of their dearest myths; Galileo vs the Church, Huxley vs Wilberforce and all that. The facts are quite different to the accounts trotted out by scientistic propagandists. 

Reality is so big and complex that no one perspective on life can give us a glimpse of the whole. When both science and faith are allowed to contribute to our view of reality, a more richly textured picture emerges. Conflicts emerge when science tries to do the job of faith and visa versa. Science can explore the natural world and devise theories on how the world works, but it cannot provide answers to ultimate questions such as; 'Why does the universe exist?', 'What is the purpose of life?' and 'What is a well-lived life?' That is where faith comes in. But faith cannot tell us that the chemical composition of water is H2O, or provide an explanation of how traits are passed on via DNA. Science and faith are mutually enriching, with the former offering answers to 'How?' questions, and the latter to 'Why?' ones. 

Sometimes the boundary between science and faith is not easy to discern. For, example, McGrath cites an experiment designed to prove the existence of the human soul by showing that bodies decreased in weight at death. The experiment was flawed. McGrath concludes that there is no such thing as the human soul, the idea of which he attributes more to Plato than the Christian faith. But if souls exist at all, they are spirit, not matter and are not therefore capable of being weighed. You don't have to be a card carrying Platonist to notice that the Bible speaks of the human spirit existing beyond death in some way, 2 Corinthians 5:8, Philippians 1:21, 23. 

Rather than Christianity acting as an impediment to the scientific enterprise, it has on occasion provided a necessary corrective to the prevailing scientific viewpoint. Many scientists held to the 'steady state' view of the universe. Partly because if the universe has always existed, there is no need to invoke a Creator. However, the discovery of background radiation in the 1960's pointed to the afterglow of a 'big bang'. The universe had a beginning after all, just as the Christian faith had claimed for two thousand years. 

The relationship between the Christian faith and Darwin's theory of evolution has been fraught with tensions. Some Christians have been strongly opposed to the theory, others have tried to reach an accommodation with an evolutionary account of origins. McGrath is in the second camp. Certainly the theory of evolution does not in itself disprove the existence of God, as some have claimed. Few would dispute that some form of evolutionary process helps account for the wide variety of plant and animal species we see today. Sticking points would be whether God created the original 'kinds' of Genesis 1:11-12, 1:20-21, 1:24-25, which then diversified into myriads of different species, and of course, the special creation of human beings depicted in Genesis 1:26-27. McGrath prefers Augustine's approach to Genesis 1 to that of modern day Creationists. He has little difficulty with the idea that human beings evolved from primates. 

But as McGrath stresses repeatedly, even the most widely accepted scientific theories are subject to revision or even rejection as better understandings of the facts are achieved. The shift from the 'steady state' to the 'big bang' account of origins is a case in point. On the other hand, theology sometimes needs to correct its understanding of the Bible in the light of scientific developments. Galileo's discovery that the solar system is heliocentric brought into question the church's overdependence on Ptolemy's earth-centred astronomical model. In that case a model that was alien to the Bible had skewed how people understood its teaching. 

What of the discrepancy between the the age of the universe as held by the scientific consensus, and what is apparently taught in the Bible? The Dutch Reformed theologian Herman Bavinck regarded the creation days of Genesis 1 as "workdays of God", or "the time in which God was at work creating", which he thought not likely to be the work of a few hours. Unlike the good Bishop Usher, who posited that God created the world in 4004 B.C, Bavinck admitted that the Bible does not provide exact data on the age of the earth. As McGrath points out, Bavinck's contemporary B. B. Warfield did not believe that the antiquity of man was a theological issue. What mattered for him was not the age, but the unity of the human race. Once more, science had called into question a common approach to reading the Bible in terms of the age of the universe, and theologians took that unto account.

Nevertheless, there are also times when theology needs to hold its ground against the scientific consensus, as with the insistence that the universe had a beginning. Bavinck argues,

As the science of divine and eternal things, theology must be patient until the science that contradicts it has made a deeper and broader study of its field and, as happens in most cases, corrects itself. In that matter theology upholds its dignity and honour more effectively than by constantly yielding and adapting itself to the opinions of the day. 

Perhaps theologians need to exercise a little more patience before giving wholesale acceptance to a Darwinian account of the origin of human beings. The special creation of human life in God's image and the historic fall of man into sin are difficult to square with the theory of evolution. How can they be accounted for in evolutionary terms? Especially as the reality of human sinfulness is a key feature of McGrath's case. 

Criticisms aside, the author makes some telling arguments against new atheist writers such as Richard Dawkins who claim that religion is the root of all evil. If only we could get rid of God in favour of science, they say, all would be well. As McGrath points out, things aren't quite so simple. Anti-God advocates of scientism fail to take into account that science can be harnessed for harmful ends, such as the production of napalm. 

Besides, notions of good and evil make little sense if there is no God. And if there is no God, then the idea of the divine is but a human invention that has been used to justify all manner of bad stuff. In that case, it's not God's fault, but our own. Religion is the product of our twisted human hearts that are inclined towards evil. Just as the Christian account of human fallenness suggests. John Calvin taught that the heart is a 'factory of idols'. Man-made religion as opposed to the worship of the living God is always destructive and debasing. The fact that new atheists are so outraged at the the impact of 'bad religion' is a backhanded compliment to the standard of absolute good and righteousness may be ascribed to God alone. 

Contrary to what is sometimes claimed, McGrath points out that science in itself cannot adjudicate on matters of good and evil. Such value judgments take us beyond the realms of  empirical investigation or rationalistic theorising. Many of the moral principles that we hold most dear are not the product of atheistic humanism, but the Christian faith. Christianity posits that all human beings are of equal worth and value, and should therefore be treated with dignity and respect. Early adopters of Darwinism advocated eugenics. The survival of the fittest, and all that. Richard Dawkins recently took to Twitter to counsel a pregnant woman that she was morally obliged to abort her baby should it be discovered to have Downs Syndrome. Evidently we need to look above and beyond science for a sense of moral purpose. 

Atheistic scientism is a form of reductionist 'nothing buttery' that offers an impoverished view of reality. The perspective offered by science needs to be supplemented by that of faith. Science has expanded our understanding of the vastness of the universe, in which the earth is but a tiny blue dot. When viewed in that way, human life can seem insignificant and worthless. Those with faith are also overawed by the magnitude of space, but we are assured that this is God's world and he cares for us,

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
    the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
4 what is man that you are mindful of him,
    and the son of man that you care for him?

(Psalm 8:3-4)

McGrath's work will challenge the thinking of those who have been influenced by Richard Dawkins and others. He exposes the inadequacy new atheism's take on science and proposes a more constructive engagement between science and faith. He doesn't so much set out to give a defense of the Christian faith, as offer his readers a compelling vision of the intellectual depth and coherence of the Christian worldview. Inventing the Universe will also prove stimulating for Christians as they reflect on the relationship between science and faith. Not all will agree with every point, I certainly didn't. Tensions between science and faith will always exist to a degree, as there is some crossover between the two perspectives on life. They offer differing origin narratives, which can only be reconciled with some difficulty, for example. But McGrath's main proposal that the 'maps' supplied by science and faith may be combined to provide a more richly textured account of reality is surely welcome. If taken on board it will help provide a way to move on from angry conflict to a more fruitful, engagement between science and the Christian faith. 

Heresy: A History of Defending the Truth by Alister McGrath

Heresy: A History of Defending the Truth,

by Alister McGrath, SPCK, 2009, 282pp

Somehow the notion has gotten around that ideas condemned by the church as heretical are a lot more interesting and attractive than stodgy old orthodoxy. In fact some scholars to try to suggest that what are now regarded as heretical versions of the faith were in fact more authentically Christian than orthodox teaching. To make things worse, it is claimed that orthodox Christians were the big bullies of church history. They were not above using the dark arts of political manipulation to impose their will on the church at the expense of poor, downtrodden heretics. On a popular level Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code perpetuates the idea that the development of orthodox Christian faith was little better than a grand theo-political conspiracy. 

Some years ago the fashion world proclaimed, 'brown is the new black'. Now it seems that the history of Christian doctrine is being rewritten to say that, 'heresy is the new orthodoxy'. Indeed, given postmodern suspicion of truth claims, the great heresy is to say that there is such a thing as heresy in the first place.

It is very much with this  revisionist context in mind that Alister McGrath gives attention to the subject of heresy, which he defines as "an inadequate, distorting, or damaging conceptualisation of faith" (p. 80). The writer charts the development of Christian orthodoxy and discusses the origins of the idea of heresy. He describes early heresies, Ebonitism (Jesus was simply a great prophet), Doceticism (Jesus only seemed to have a human body) and Valentinism (early Gnosticism), showing why they were dismissed as inadequate and misleading representations of the Christian faith. In the second century AD when the above heresies arose, the church was a persecuted body within the Roman Empire with no support from officialdom when it came to policing false teaching. The aforementioned errors lost the battle of ideas simply because they failed to do justice to the gospel as disclosed in the New Testament.

When it came to combating later classic heresies like Arianism, Donatism and Pelagianism, the political situation had changed somewhat. The Christian church had received official recognition from the Roman Emperor, Constantine. The Emperor had a vested interest in having divisions between Christians healed for the sake of the harmony of his domains. It was Constantine who called the Council of Nicea in 325 AD in an attempt to resolve the dispute over Arianism. However, he left it to the church leaders to determine the outcome of the council, which declared that Jesus as the Son of God is homoousios [of the same essence] with the Father. Arianism was thus declared a heresy. It seems that if anything, Constantine's sympathies were with Arius, giving the lie to the oft- repeated claim that Nicea was a political stitch up. 

A later Emperor had the decision of Nicea overturned. The orthodox belief that Jesus is fully God was declared a heresy. Athanasius, champion of the deity of Christ was banished and Arians rose to positions of power in the church. But despite political interference, the orthodox stuck to their guns. At stake was whether Jesus was the final revelation of God and the Saviour of the World. Only if Christ was fully God and fully man could he reveal God and save us from our sins. Arianism was not the victim of dodgy theo-politics, it simply wasn't an adequate conceptualisation of Jesus as he is described in the New Testament.

Again, while the errors of Donatism and Pelagianism awakened the interest of the secular authorities, the primary interest of the church was not power politics, but right belief. Donatism was a separatist movement that took a hard line with regard to Christians who had capitulated during times of persecution. The Donatists held that the right administration of the sacraments was dependent on the holiness of the Minister. Augustine rightly saw that this approach failed to appreciate the frailty of man in sin and the reality of God's restoring grace. 

The issue of sin and grace was also to the fore in the Pelagian controversy. Augustine emphasised man's total need of grace in salvation. This was summed up in his payer, "Lord, command what you will and give what you command." Pelagius on the other hand taught that human beings are able to obey the law of God and merit salvation for themselves. Augustine argued that Pelagianism did not take into account that sin had so affected human nature that only the sovereign grace of God can save us. Pelagius' views were rightly condemned as heretical.

McGrath defends the notion that certain beliefs should be regarded as heretical because they undermine the gospel and distort the Christian message beyond recognition. But he also recognises that "heresy" can sometimes be used as a lazy term of abuse to be hurled at one's theological opponents. A case in point is the Roman Catholic denunciation of Protestants as "heretics" at the time of the Reformation. Mainline Protestants held to orthodox beliefs on the Trinity, the person of Christ and salvation by grace. But they questioned certain Roman Catholic teachings in the light of what they found in the Bible. Roman Catholic distinctives such as the Mass, purgatory and papal authority were not the subject of Ecumenical Councils. Disagreement with them hardly constituted heresy. Indeed, it might even be argued that the doctrine of transubstantiation is heretical in its implications. The claim that the body of Christ is present whenever and wherever the Mass is celebrated, is a denial of Chalcedonian orthodoxy, as it involves a property of Christ's divine nature (omnipresence) being attributed to his human nature.  

Protestants held that the Bible is the supreme authority in the church. For McGrath this meant that Protestants had some difficulty in coping with newly minted erroneous beliefs that developed within the Reformed fold. They stood with historic orthodoxy when it came to ancient heresies. Protestants responded effectively to old heresies in new guises, such as Socinianism (a kind of 17th century  Arianism). But what of novelties that sprang up within Protestantism, such as Arminianism? After all, false teachers quote the Bible as well as the orthodox, and unlike the Ecumenical Councils, no Protestant grouping can claim to speak for the whole church. According to McGrath, all the Reformed could do in response to the challenge of Arminianism was to call the Synod of Dort and attempt resolve the issue by putting it to the vote.

There are a couple of problems with McGrath's account of the Reformed Churches' response to Arminianism. First, while the teaching of Arminius and the Remonstrants who followed in his wake threw up some new challenges, it was in some ways an old error. In effect Arminianism was Semi-Pelagianism in 17th century clothing. Second, in their Canons, the Synod of Dort produced a well thought-out biblical and theological rebuttal of Arminian error (the so-called Five Points of Calvinism). The Synod appealed to Scripture rather than attempting to resolve the controversy simply by counting heads. 

The issue of biblical authority in relation to heresy is not unique to Protestants. Athanasius battled with Arius over the meaning of the Bible's witness to Christ. The Council of Nicea aimed at setting forth the church's understanding of Scripture. It did not seek to supplant or augment the authority of the Bible. The Reformed insistence on the supreme authority of Scripture is of a piece with the historic position of the Christian church. A similar approach may be found in church fathers such as Augustine. No one is arguing that the fathers' attitude to biblical authority hampered them in dealing firmly with heresy.

It could even be posited  that the principle of sola scriptura is a positive strength when it comes to combating error. It enables Protestants to respond creatively to new forms of false teaching rather than virtually being imprisoned by older creedal formulae. The medieval Roman Catholic Church failed to subject its doctrine to proper biblical authority. As a result sub-biblical dogmas such as the Mass and purgatory were allowed to develop almost unchallenged. It is essential that the church constantly reviews her teaching in the light of the Bible.

New errors demand that the church reflects afresh on the witness of Holy Scripture. Innovative ways of expressing and safeguarding old truths may be called for. In the face of the Arian threat, Nicea used the improvisatory formula that the Son is homoousios with the Father to uphold what the church had always confessed concerning the Lord Jesus Christ. A strong emphasis on biblical authority gives the church the ability to respond innovatively to fresh challenges to the orthodox Christian faith. The Synod of Dort's crystallisation of Reformed teaching in the face of Arminian error is an example of this kind of thing. 

McGrath has certainly nailed the myth that heretical teachings were more interesting and authentic versions of the Christian faith than classic orthodoxy. The fact is that heresies were and are failed attempts at exploring and explaining the gospel. They fall short of true wonder of the truth as it is in Jesus. Orthodox belief was not imposed on the church at the whim of civil and ecclesiastical politicians. Rather, orthodoxy prevailed because it offered a faithful definition and defence of the core teachings of the New Testament concerning God as Trinity, the incarnation of Christ and salvation by grace.

The writer also has some fascinating things to say on cultural and intellectual motivations for heresy. In a chapter on Heresy and the Islamic View of Christianity, he shows that criticism of Christian teaching in the Koran is often based on heretical versions of the faith rather than orthodox belief.

Today as much as ever the church is called to contend for the faith once delivered to the saints. The New Testament repeatedly emphasises that false teaching must be taken seriously, Matthew 7:15-20, Galatians 1:6-8, 2 Peter 2, 3 John 9-11. If anything McGrath could have been a little more strident in warning of the dangers of gospel-denying error. However, his book is a timely reminder that truth matters and heresy isn’t as attractive at it is sometimes cracked up to be. It is the task of the churches to demonstrate just how wonderfully compelling and life-transforming is the orthodox Christian faith. The truth and nothing but the truth will set you free (John 8:32).

Alister McGrath interview

Alister McGrath was recently interviewed on Premier Christian Radio's Unbelievable? He shares his own journey of faith and discusses why Christianity makes best sense of the world as he sees it. He addresses the way atheism is currently making its case, as well as the fine tuning of the universe, the resurrection, heresy and more. Not everything the theologian-apologist says commands agreement, but an interesting and worthwhile listen.

Christianity's Dangerous Idea by Alister McGrath

Christianity's Dangerous Idea: The Protestant Revolution,
a history from the sixteenth century to the twenty-first,by Alister McGrath, Harper Collins (USA) and SPCK (UK), 2007.

In this book Alister McGrath attempts to tell the story of Protestantism from its beginnings in the sixteenth century right up to the present day. The author does this with his customary verve, wit and style. Although readers may disagree with McGrath's analysis at some important points, it is difficult not to admire the sheer scope of this ambitious project. Not content with giving us a gripping narrative of Protestant history, the writer also dons the mantle of prophet to suggest the possible future of Protestantism.

So, what is "Christianity's dangerous idea"? It is the Protestant insistence that each individual believer has the right to interpret the Bible. This enabled early Reformation thinkers to critically examine the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church in the light of Scripture. Take sacramental theology. For Protestants, it was not enough that the institutional Church held that there are seven sacraments. If the Bible acknowledged only two, namely the Lord's Supper and Baptism, then that was it. The other supposed sacraments such as penance and extreme unction were bogus and had to be abandoned. Who gave the Pope the authority to add to the plain teaching of Scripture anyway?

In many ways "Christianity's dangerous idea" was empowering and liberating. The Bible was wrested from the ecclesiastical authorities and given back to the ordinary Christian. But having rejected the authority of the Pope, Protestants were faced with a new problem. Who would now decide which interpretations of Scripture were right? Protestantism very quickly mutated into several Protestantisms. Many sided with Luther's original vision, others were won over by the more developed theology of John Calvin. Some argued for an even more radical Reformation. They rejected infant baptism as unbiblical and questioned the value of the historic Creeds of the Church. For them Scripture alone, meant the rejection of the past in favour of contemporary readings of the Bible. The situation was complicated by the fact that the Reformation tended to spread territorially. Local princelings expected their subjects to adopt their chosen brand of Protestantism. The Reformation movement was soon fragmented both theologically and territorially. Protestants could be relied upon to unite against their common enemy, Roman Catholicism. But they also eyed one another with suspicion. At Marburg Colloquy Protestants from the Lutheran and Reformed wings met to settle their differences. But any hopes of pan-Reformation unity were dashed by Luther's intransigence. He demanded that all parties accept his doctrine of Christ's bodily presence in the sacraments or consubstantiation.

The Protestant commitment to the right of all Christians to interpret Scripture was both its best asset and potentially its biggest liability. On the plus side, Protestants have been willing to test their own beliefs by the standard of Scripture. The Reformers tended to view the "Great Commission" of Matthew 28 as limited to the ministry of the apostles. Calvin sent many missionaries into his native France. But the Reformers seemed to show of little interest in cross-cultural mission. That view was challenged by William Carey and others in the 18th century. They taught that the "Great Commission" applied for all time. This fresh understanding of Scripture led to a flowering of interest in world wide mission. On the minus side, the Protestant insistence on the right of every believer to interpret the Bible has proved to be highly divisive. Protestantism has often been guilty of needless schism. Believers have separated from each other over matters of biblical interpretation that do not affect the integrity of the gospel.

However, the Protestant insistence on the right of private interpretation, the "dangerous idea" was not, as McGrath seems to suggest, a recipe for anything goes. There were safeguards. The Reformers insisted that the Bible be read responsibly in accordance with its plain and obvious meaning. Calvin was a master of the art of grammatico-historical exegesis. Mainline Protestants accepted the ancient Creeds of the Church as embodiments of accurate interpretation of Scripture. Reformed theologians taught that witness of the Spirit enables believers to rightly understand God's Word. This was not taken to mean that all believers will agree on everything. Bullinger wisely urged Protestants to be modest and cautious when it came to disputed areas of biblical interpretation.

If the formal principle of Reformation theology was "Scripture alone", the material principle was the gospel. There was wide agreement that salvation is by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone, to the glory of God alone. While not all Scripture is equally clear, gospel of saving grace in Christ is perfectly plain. The same basic doctrine of salvation by grace alone is expressed in all the great confessional documents of the Reformation. While the Reformation movement had its lunatic fringe, the "dangerous idea", when rightly understood did not lead to theological entropy. A shared vision of the biblical gospel saw to that.

McGrath offers an instructive and engaging account of the first three centuries of Protestant history. But I found his analysis of Protestantism from 19th century to present less satisfactory. He suggests that Holiness movements, of the 19th century and the revivalism of Charles Finney were legitimate adaptations of the Protestant faith. In reality, they were aberrations. Iain Murray gives a much more cogent analysis in his, Revival and Revivalism: The Making and Marring of American Evangelicalism 1750-1858, Banner of Truth Trust, 1994. Finneyism entailed a rejection of the historic Calvinistic faith of the Reformation in favour of can-do Pelagianism. This may have suited the enterprising spirit of the age, but it left the evangelical movement theologically emaciated. McGrath rightly notes that Willow Creek-style "seeker sensitive" Churches stand in the Finney tradition, but he thinks that their approach is to be welcomed. This is doubtful. As David F. Wells has shown in his Above All Earthy Pow'rs: Christ in a Postmodern World, Eerdmans/IVP, 2005, the "seeker sensitive" movement has allowed the spirit of the age to mold the church to such a degree that the supremacy of Christ is undermined. Protestantism needs Reformed, that is Calvinistic theology to give it backbone and direction.

On another recent development, McGrath writes approvingly of the Evangelicals and Catholics Together movement and its attempt to bring the old enemies closer together. But this project is misguided. The great issues that divided Protestant from Catholic in the 16th century remain largely unresolved.

The book charts the origins and development of Pentecostalism. Pentecostalism was set alight by the dying embers of the 19th century Holiness and revivalist movements. With its beginnings in the Azusa Street revival, Pentecostalism, insisted that the New Testament gifts such as speaking in tongues were available to contemporary believers. This apparently supernatural mutation of Protestantism laid great stress on the immediate presence of God among his people. The Pentecostal message spread very rapidly and is now a global phenomenon. Statistics show that it is now the largest Protestant group. Such is the growth of Pentecostalism that McGrath speculates that Latin America and the Philippines might soon become predominantly Protestant. For McGrath, Pentecostalism is the bright hope for the future of Protestantism. But he virtually ignores growing, world-wide recovery of Reformed Christianity associated with the influential ministries of men like Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Jim Packer and Don Carson. Some Pentecostals or Charismatics are beginning to draw upon the riches of Reformed theology to give the movement added depth and theological clarity.

One theme that runs through the book is that Protestantism gave impetus to atheism. With its focus on meeting God through the Word and its absence of images in church buildings, the Reformed faith helped to "disenchant the world". Thomas Hobbes suggested that the Protestant God might as well not exist as he made very little difference to the world. That is one reason why McGrath sees such potential in Pentecostalism with its emphasis on the living, supernatural presence of God. This reminds us that Protestantism needs much more than a recovery of Reformed theology. If Reformed theology does not lead to encounter with the God of the Gospel, then is has become deformed. We need to rediscover the deeply experimental Calvinism of the Puritans and Calvinistic Methodists. At its best, Reformed Protestantism was always a movement of the Spirit as well as the Word.

With McGrath's concerns about Protestantism and atheism in mind, it is ironic that in this book he more or less adopts the approach of secular historiography. He makes no pretence of objectivity or neutrality, writing very much as as a Protestant historian. But God is strangely banished from his interpretative framework. The Reformation is analysed in terms of social forces, leading actors and key ideas. But there is no hint that the providence of God might have been at work in all this. Similarly, the 18th century Great Awakening is described in terms that would hardly disturb the most secular historian. The work of the Spirit in revival does not get a mention. In McGrath's account, God as an actor in history has virtually been omitted from "public space" of historical discourse.

Now to the question with which McGrath closes his book. Does Protestantism have a future? The writer thinks so. He points to the movement's potential for endless renewal and adaptation. There is something in that. But more is needed if Protestantism is to have a future as a movement that is faithful to the gospel. Protestantism needs to be rooted in the Calvinistic theology of the Reformation. We must hold that the triune God of the Gospel is still mighty to save sinners by his sovereign grace. In addition, Protestants must to be able to respond meaningfully to the fresh challenges of the 21st century world. Above all else we need the God of the Reformation to visit us and revive us afresh by his Spirit. The future of Protestantism is in God's hands. "Revive your work, O Lord in the midst of the years!"

Is God really a delusion? by Alister McGrath

Alister McGrath

Listen to Alister McGrath's response to Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion

Is God a Delusion? Atheism and the Meaning of Life (MP3)

Richard Dawkins

Dawkins' God by Alister McGrath

Today, The Independent Newspaper carries an article by Richard Dawkins "Darwin's Rottweiler", entitled in large print, "GOD the root of all evil?". In this piece, Dawkins introduces his forthcoming TV series entitled, The Root of All Evil? He rehearses his old arguments about religion being the cause of untold suffering in the world and that Darwinism has made God an unnecessary construct. Dawkins repeats his claim that bringing up children in a religious context is tantamount to "mental child abuse."

It was interesting the read this article after just finishing McGrath's courteous yet systematic and devastating critique of Dawkins atheism. McGrath is well placed to write such a book as he holds a doctorate in biophysics and is an eminent theologian. McGrath shows that Darwinism has not eliminated God from the universe. Darwinian evolution cannot in itself adjudicate on the God question. He refutes Dawkins' assertion that natural selection must lead inevitably to atheism.

McGrath subjects Dawkins' theory of "memes" that enables him to label religion as a "virus of the mind" to sustained criticism at every level. The author demonstrates that "memes" have no empirical, scientific basis. He also points out that even given the validity of "meme" theory, atheism could just as well be a "virus of the mind", making Dawkins' argument self-defeating.

The author questions Dawkins' definition of faith as irrational blind trust and urges him to take a more evidence-based approach to the relationship between Christianity and science. He concludes by saying,

Scientists and Theologians have so much to learn from each other. Listening to each other, we might hear the galaxies sing. Or even the heavens declaring the glory of God. (Psalm 19:1).

McGrath does not utilise the arguments of Intelligent Design. He cautiously accepts the Darwinian account of the origin of species and takes an Augustinian view of the Genesis creation account. He notes that Theological conservatives such as B. B. Warfield reacted favourably to Darwinism. Six day creationists may disagree with McGrath on these points. But he has done us a great service in subjecting Dawkins' aggressive, but unfounded and irrational atheism to rigorous scholarly analysis. In the light of this book, perhaps "Darwin's Rottweiler" should scurry away with his tail between his legs, rather than continuing to bark out his atheism in the press and on TV.