The Case for Christian Nationalism
The Case for Christian Nationalism
7. The Christian Prince | VII. Conclusion
Previously:
Though in the meantime we may need to settle for civil leaders who fail to live up to the standards of a Christian prince, we should pray that God would raise up such a leader from among us: one who would suppress the enemies of God and elevate his people; recover a worshipping people; restore masculine prominence in the land and a spirit for dominion; affirm and conserve his people and place, not permitting their dissolution or capture; and inspire a love of one’s Christian country. In a word, pray that God would bring about, through a Christian prince, a great renewal.1
This final, language of destiny appeal, to close the chapter, has so many connotations that it is worth breaking down into its individual parts. Of significant note is that we are told to pray for renewal “through a Christian prince” but not through the work of the Holy Spirit or through a genuine revival. This may seem like a minor oversight to some, but I believe it speaks heavily to Wolfe’s worldview; beyond the category of a “worshipping people”, there is nothing in this paragraph, or anywhere in the book, thus far, that speaks to genuine Christian piety and the believer’s utter dependence on the work of God’s Spirit in his heart.
Instead, we are given the prince’s humanist task of “restor[ing] masculine prominence in the land and a spirit for dominion.” There is a palpable resentment in this statement; healthy masculinity is highly undervalued, and often pathologized, by our society, but there is still absolutely nothing stopping an individual man from confidently living his life with as much masculinity as he wants. Again, complaining about society turned against you, instead of simply going and being the man you want to be, is a feminine response that is only heightened by the call for “dominion”. This is not a healthy dominion of man over earth and beast, but, being inextricably tied to a restoration of “masculine prominence”, it becomes the unhealthy desire of someone who sees himself as impotent, but wishes he could turn the tables on those whom he disdains.
This revenge motif is further accentuated by the call to “suppress the enemies of God”. This is not the goal of the dedicated Christian, firm in his faith and his eschatology, but of the insecure, wavering Christian hoarding his personal peace and affluence, shown in the earthly fear of “dissolution or capture”. This demand cannot be rectified with the explicit instructions of Paul:
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12:19-21)
If we may temporarily “need to settle for civil leaders who fail to live up to the standards of a Christian prince”, what would be the eventual circumstances allowing for such a leader to be raised up by God in the 21st century West? How does a leader willing to suppress the enemies of God maneuver into a position of power in a world dominated by constitutional republics, populated by an ever-increasing, non-Christian majority? As we will see in the next chapter, Wolfe does not expect Western Christians to pray for “a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (1 Timothy 2:2) while they await their prince; he expects them to install him by force.
Next:
Stephen Wolfe, The Case for Christian Nationalism (Moscow, Idaho: Canon Press, 2022), 323.