“…If the magistrate provided the support of the bishops and sustained them in their places of influence, he felt entitled to have a voice in saying who should receive his funds, and use that influence. If he was to enforce the decisions of councils as to matters of faith and discipline, he must have some agency in determining what those decisions should be. If he was to banish from his kingdom those whom the clergy excluded from the Church, he must judge whether such exclusion was in itself just.1 And on the other hand, if the Church was recognized as a divine institution , with divinely constituted government and powers, she would constantly struggle to preserve her prerogatives from the encroachments of the state, and to draw to herself all the power requisite to enforce her decisions in the sphere of the state into which she was adopted,2 which she of right possessed in her own sphere as a spiritual, and, in one sense voluntary, society.
Simple and plausible, therefore, as the relation between the Church and state, as determined by Constantine, may at first sight appear, the whole history of the Church shows that it cannot be maintained. Either the Church will encroach on the peculiar province of the state, or the state upon that of the Church…”
— Charles Hodge, Discussions in Church Polity, 1878
Hodge’s works are little quoted in Stephen Wolfe’s The Case for Christian Nationalism. This is unsurprising since Hodge would never approve of Wolfe’s nuanced and fantastical vision of a “Christian Prince” who would somehow dominate and yet not dominate a favored, established church (or churches) which would (in his vision) be Reformed in doctrine.
Hodge’s head would surely spin, so don’t feel bad if you’re somewhat confused or alarmed by this proposed program. There’s a clue to the dissonance in the title of Hodge’s work: Discussions in Church Polity. Wolfe is doing Christian political philosophy, not church polity, but his vision would necessarily affect the church (or churches). He describes his preferred form of government as civil Caesarism.3
I would contend that Wolfe is not burdened with too much imagination, but has too little—far too little to envision the inevitable domination and deformation of the church’s polity and doctrine by a nearly-unbounded executive, whatever he may be called.
This is exactly what Stephen Wolfe’s “Christian Prince” would have power to do.
This difficulty is answered by the Westminster Confession of Faith, 31-4:
Synods and councils are to handle, or conclude nothing, but that which is ecclesiastical: and are not to intermeddle with civil affairs which concern the commonwealth, unless by way of humble petition in cases extraordinary; or, by way of advice, for satisfaction of conscience, if they be thereunto required by the civil magistrate.
From a footnote in Wolfe’s book…we better hope the Caesar-Prince has a great personality!