A Book Review from Books At a Glance
by Michael D. Mock
Humans in general, and Christians in particular, are relational beings. As bearing the image of God, our various relationships are neither stagnant nor monochromatic. They are dynamic and multifarious. This relational reality presses in on the person’s approach to his human connections. How will we relate to others? We are finite beings, truly limited in space, time, resources, and energy. How can we be good stewards of our many relationships, maximizing what God calls us to do while managing our many responsibilities given our time and place? These are foundationally the questions Kocman seeks to address. Kocman is to the point in his brief book, and his words (sadly not heartily welcomed by all) help us to think wisely about how to glorify God in our relationships.
C.R. Wiley sets up the book more authoritatively and, I might boldly add, deliciously in the Foreword than I have here, but we both agree that Kocman contributes well to the conversation of the ordo amoris, the order of love. Every Christian takes to heart Christ’s command to love but is often struggling with the question “how?” given our apparent connection to everyone and everything all the time. Kocman doesn’t solve all the problems, but he lays a sturdy foundation.
Foundation: Bible & Nature
Kocman first clarifies what he’s talking about: the order of affections. Because of our creational make-up and our built-in limitations, there must be a circle of relational priority. This is not a defect in creation. This is how God designed it. This is something we all actually believe, but the falsely spiritual will deny it, arguing for sameness of amorous expression irrespective of object. However, we all really know that a husband is to prioritize loving his wife over the poor family in a faraway land he’s just heard of in the news. Even more, he is to love his wife more than he loves his own children.
After defining Christian love as “unconditional commitment to the ultimate good of another, even at the cost to itself” (10), Kocman defends the thesis that love is done in particulars. That’s the key. That’s the focus. We don’t love abstractly, some amorphous group, but real objects become our affection. In fact, this human instinct is grounded in divine initiation: “In sum, the love of God, which constitutes both the principle of and power animating human charity, is irrefutably particular—from the decree of redemption, through the accomplishment and application of redemption, all the way to the consummation of redemption” (15). God loves in particulars, and so must his people.
In chapter 2, Kocman argues his thesis from Scripture. He is skillfully succinct, but perhaps a little too terse. His biblical grounds clocks in at a mere eight pages. This paginal paucity is noteworthy when we read chapter 3, which devotes 30 pages on grounding this reality in history (both secular and ecclesiastical). In my estimation, this is an imperfection. I wasn’t personally looking for more biblical defense, because I had already been convinced of the thesis. For me, chapter 1 served as a summary of what I already affirmed. However, I imagine his primary readership is Christian, which is likely less interested in what church history says than Scripture. After all, Christians prioritize and ground their conduct in holy writ, not revered writers. They will be better served by sound exegesis than historical precedent in Aristotle, Augustine, or Aquinas. Even so, throughout chapter 2, it was clear that Kocman’s thesis is no novel idea but in the stream of secular and sacred thought. I was happy to see his regular citation of the Westminster Standards, not only because he’s a convictional Baptist and I’m a Presbyterian, but because he consciously based his arguments on the tried-and-true thinking of our forebears.
Believe it or not, chapters 4 and 5 may be the most controversial section, because Kocman strives to prove the idea that grace restores or perfects nature. The concept of grace restoring nature, propounded and popularized by Herman Bavinck, has been met these days with suspicion. Isn’t grace one thing, and nature another? Why, of course! But does grace really transform, restore, and even perfect nature? Kocman argues that it does, and his position finds sympathy with those steeped in the Dutch Reformed tradition. With the power of grace, nature is transformed. There is such a thing as a natural affection and a gracious affection, and gracious affections restore natural affections for the glory of God. He explores how this applies to nations, even undertaking the challenging task placing “nation” within linguistic borders.
Application: Objections & Exhortations
In chapters 6 and 7, Kocman spends 25% of his book on application. Here is where he writes polemically yet irenically. Kocman responds to seven objections/questions: (1) Nations originate in sin, not creation; (2) The OT nation is a type of the church; (3) Scripture calls believers to a radical universality of love; (4) Now is not the time to focus on global missions; (5, but there’s a typo that duplicates 4) Nature does not bind the believer; (6, listed as 5) The balance you propose has never been achieved; and (7, listed as 6): This is simply Christian nationalism in thin guise. He responds peacefully, thoughtfully, and convincingly to each of these objections.
He ends his book with the “So what?” He offers some applications and exhortations to love, and to love in the prioritized concentric circles of objects of affection: love of God, of spouse, of family, of friends, of church, of community, of one’s nation, and of the world. Kocman doesn’t pretend to have all the answers, but he paves a way forward for Christians, and humans in general, to think about how best they can love. Kocman recovers for us the lost order of affections, and our homes, churches, communities, societies, nations, and world will be a better place if we love particularly.
Michael D. Mock