A Book Review from Books At a Glance
by Michael D. Mock
Robert Letham has added to his series on the Trinity, and in this volume, the Son is the subject. If you’ve read his other works on the Trinity (The Holy Trinity in 2019, and The Holy Spirit in 2023), then you know what you will get from reading this book: a biblical, theological, historical, and applicational foray into the divine being and the divine persons. The following descriptive couplets stood out as I read this hearty volume: biblical and theological, charitable and critical, historical and humorous, and instructional and applicational.
Biblical & Theological
Anyone interested in plumbing the depths of deity must be firmly grounded in the biblical text and a proper understanding of the theology behind it. Letham demonstrates a facility with the biblical text that the reader would expect. Likewise, Letham is conversant with sound theology, the theological controversies and conversations over the centuries, and is thereby apt to comment on the subject. It is easy to slide into heresy when discussing the Trinity or any of the divine persons. The Son has been a stumbling block for many. Letham, however, has a sound head on his shoulders, which has equipped him to think biblically and accurately about the many and divergent perspectives of the Son. He spends his initial chapters addressing the biblical data of the identity of the Son. Who is the Son? The Son is the eternal, only-begotten of the Father. This eternally begotten person of the Father came to the earth and became man, the God-Man. Letham unpacks these fundamental truths in the first four chapters. There was much to think about and delight in these chapters. For me, most notably, Letham explored the questions, “Why the Son?” and “Why must Mary have been a virgin?” In other words, why wouldn’t, or even couldn’t, the Father have come down to earth? Why not the Spirit? Was the selection of the Son arbitrary? Surely not (70ff). It was most fitting, in fact, for the Son of God to be the one to come down to earth for our salvation. What about the virginity of Mary? Must we affirm this doctrine, or can we take it or leave it? In a day when many Christians are embarrassed of the virgin birth, when many Christians don’t take her virginity literally (seriously!), Letham steadfastly affirms the necessity of holding this truth (73ff). The biblical testimony is clear: Jesus was born of the virgin Mary.
Personally, I think Letham’s use of John 1:18 weakened his overall case for the eternal Son incarnate. He writes, “The expression ‘only begotten God’ (ho monogenēs theos) has greater textual support than the variant ‘only begotten Son’” (87). For people familiar with the textual basis at play here, namely the manuscript evidence, those who favor the Textus Receptus, or even those who prioritize Byzantine or Majority texts, will look askance at Letham’s preference for codices Sinaiticus and Alexandrinus. Letham’s affirmation of supposedly older and better texts is a weak point in his argument, but thankfully he does not allow his view of this text to lead him astray from a full-throated affirmation of the Son’s eternal begottenness.
Charitable & Critical
I trust that the just-mentioned criticism of Letham’s writing would be well received. I hope also that to the degree that he can dish it out, he can take it. In truth, Letham’s treatment is both charitable and critical of both past and present theologians.
Letham is an equal opportunity defender. He defends the ignored, rejected, or overlooked to the extent that he can in good conscience and godly charity explain the apparently (or truly) aberrant views of the Son. Letham shows this godly quality throughout the book, but perhaps most notably through his pervasive interaction with Karl Barth. He anticipates objections to his regular citation of the German theologian, which is why he defends his defense of the man in his introduction. He states, “Karl Barth was arguably the greatest theologian of the twentieth century and for that reason, among others, is cited here quite a lot… I recall Donald MacLeod’s mentioning that while 90 percent of theological dross was to be found outside the circles of Reformed theology, 90 percent of gold was there too” (xiv-xv). Letham will let Barth have it, but he will also let his readers have Barth. He charitably and relevantly offers Barth to us, even though he will highlight Barth’s blunders. Letham does not throw out the Barthian baby with the bath water. He treats other outliers with a similar spirit, and such Christian charity is the envy of all whose views don’t seem to align exactly with agreed-upon phraseology.
At the same time, Letham is also an equal opportunity offender. For those of us who’d like our traditions and favorite figures untouched, Letham is sure to disappoint. If you love your Luther or Zwingli, you’re sure to read trenchant criticisms of some of their theologies. If you are a modern evangelical, you have to face the music that Letham plays: “modern evangelicalism is a petri dish of heresies” (270, n73). Not even our beloved John Calvin escapes the critical countenance of our author. For instance, Letham doesn’t accuse Calvin of Nestorianism, but he does claim that some of Calvin’s own statements may find a place in Nestorius’ house (234). His chapter called Reformation Issues was particularly incisive of the various Reformers’ thoughts: their strengths and vulnerabilities.
As for present-day figures who receive some shots across the bow, David Garner found himself squarely in Letham’s line of sight. The literary pugilism is not unwarranted, for David Garner wrote a book in this field of study: Sons in the Son: The Riches & Reach of Adoption in Christ (also published by P&R). In Appendix A, Letham holds back no punches and appears to have the next President of Westminster Theological Seminary against the ropes. Letham even grabs a couple of other guys to beat up on Garner’s basic argument, most notably Ryan McGraw, a fellow Presbyterian. Letham, likewise Reformed, strikes his brother and prays that Garner will see it as a kindness, as oil on his head (Psalm 141:5). What’s the cause for such a strike? Garner’s view of adoption appears to imply Nestorianism. Letham began with calling the book “outstanding” (327) but also concludes, “We encourage Garner to reconsider his thesis” (343). Letham lands some powerful punches, and I would be interested to see how Garner could recover. Is Garner a Balboa to Letham’s Drago?
Historical & Humorous
Letham is an historical theologian. He balances well the recounting of history and the implications for theology. He spends several chapters weaving the warp and woof of these fabrics as he tells the story of Chalcedon, its forerunners, and its aftermath. The history is useful and corrective of legendary or myopic views of what had transpired those many centuries ago. In later chapters, he moves beyond the 4th-6th centuries to explore the Reformation-era understanding and Post-Enlightenment investigation of the relevant questions. These chapters form the meat of this book’s body; they are complex, at times hard to follow (or swallow), but always worth the eating. This meat does a mind good.
History is helpful, but all the more enjoyable when humor finds its way in the narrative. The reader wouldn’t expect to find tid-bits of humor sprinkled on the pages of so weighty an historical tome. But Letham surprises the reader pleasantly. The reader is rewarded with mutual mirth mainly through reading the footnotes, an oft-neglected field of observation. To cite some examples (see pages for context), discussing time and eternity, Letham says, “give us time!” and “If your head is spinning, don’t worry; so is mine!” (28, 30). He said Cyril was called “a thug” (123). His comments about the Aphthartodocetists had me in stitches (156, n116). He adds double the humor on page 171. When he entitles a sub-section “The Threat of Biblicism,” he writes, “The title of this section might raise the eyebrows of some; others might reach for their blood-pressure medication” (287). Letham is clearly an engaged, human author. He’s a joy to read.
Sadly, Letham had both given and denied himself several opportunities to bring in a much-loved character (or much-hated, depending on how much one has read to-date) in the Harry Potter series. Over five times he referred to the historical figure of Severus. But no reference to the unforgettable Severus Snape was made, not even in a footnote. Truly, this was an opportunity he served himself on a silver platter, but one he never took to the mouth of his pen. We hope that the literary character doesn’t respond with the curse of his own creation, Sectumsempra. (If Letham is allowed a bit of humor, his reviewer hopes a bit will be granted to him as well. You’ve already read this paragraph, so it’s no use complaining.)
Instructional & Applicational
Finally, Letham both instructs and applies the material. This is a large, heavy, and heady volume on the eternal Son. Letham doesn’t merely narrate, he instructs. At times, he lives in the weeds. A whole chapter addresses the subjects of person, nature, action, and will. Relevant and rewarding, but really difficult to grasp. As I wrote above, he’s not afraid to offend, sometimes even the little children. For instance, in a footnote he explores the Children’s Catechism. When answering what God is, this catechism does a poor job, says Letham. To be frank, he says more than this. He says, “I know of no worse catechetical answer” (43, n55). Ouch. But he’s not wrong. He offends because he cares. He instructs because he cares. Moreover, Letham knows that he uses a lot of unfamiliar terms. He knows he’s written a large book, and it’s hard to remember everything. For these reasons, he has provided a Glossary. I found this addition to be a true blessing in instruction. Furthermore, I appreciated his remarks on theosis throughout the book. He does provide a Protestant understanding that allows us to use the term without going full-hog Eastern Orthodoxy (or no-hog, really).
Letham sprinkles in some application throughout the whole book, but he reserves most of the “so what?” for his final chapter: For Us and Our Salvation. In this chapter the reader will delight in the finished work of the Son who unites us to himself and lavishes upon us every Spiritual blessing. It’s a glorious way to conclude a reflection on the eternal Son. The entire book is a delight to read. Some sections go down like well-aged bourbon, whereas others are fattier pieces of meat. But it’s all a feast of theology, the study of the Son of God, eternal, begotten, incarnate, obedient, dead, buried, resurrected, ascended, and seated at the right hand of the Father almighty.
Michael D. Mock