Things Unseen: A Systematic Introduction to the Christian Faith and Reformed Theology
By J. Gresham Machen
Westminster Seminary Press, 2020
486 pages (hardcover), $49.99
J. Gresham Machen (1881–1937) is well known in conservative Presbyterian circles, faintly known in some broader Reformed circles, and hardly known at all in the broader Christian church. This is a shame. His influence might be compared to a minor earthquake under the sea: not visible on the horizon until the waves come crashing down on the shore.
For those readers who aren’t familiar with him, Machen was a New Testament professor at Old Princeton Seminary and the successor to some of the greatest theologians in American history—most notably, B. B. Warfield. Machen watched with dismay as the liberal theology of Germany that had assailed his own faith now began a hostile takeover of denominations throughout America—including his beloved Presbyterian Church (USA). Although he didn’t desire the mantle of “Doctor Fundamentalis” (a label given to him), he assumed it in order to defend the faith once for all delivered to the saints.
When Old Princeton began to capitulate to liberalism, Machen founded Westminster Seminary. When the PC(USA) missions board began supporting non-Christian missionaries, Machen started a missions board of his own and was promptly suspended from the ministry. So, he started the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. While very few followed Machen to Westminster or the OPC, a seed was planted that would grow into the robust and growing Reformed movement today. The OPC kept the torch aloft in the North as Southern Presbyterianism fought its own fight and eventually became the Presbyterian Church in America. The OPC also aided conservatives in the Christian Reformed Church, until many felt led to start the United Reformed Church. These denominations along with several others formed NAPARC (the North American Presbyterian and Reformed Council), which has provided the backbone to the growing Reformed body across denominations in America and abroad.
His Christianity and Liberalism, which clearly draws a line between true Christianity and counterfeits, is a product of his own wrestling with the liberal theology of that period. But because it speaks of timeless truths, it is still relevant in our own day. For those for whom Christianity and Liberalism has been so influential, this new complete collection of Machen’s radio talks is a real treat. Things Unseen contains the transcriptions of radio addresses Machen gave over the final couple years of his life (1935–37). Until now, only portions of these talks have been published, as publication ceased after Machen died.
That fact casts a sobering hue over this richly edifying work. Underneath Machen’s introduction to the second year’s addresses, we find a note from his fellow professors saying that he did not live to see its publication, so they saw it through themselves as a labor of love (149). Indeed, as we read these pages of clear biblical truth, packaged in pastoral wisdom with incredible humility, gentleness, and empathy, we see why his colleagues, students, and even opponents tended to love him.
What we notice first in this collection is Machen’s warm, pastoral tone. Due to his role as a leader of American Reformed Christianity in his day, Machen has been maligned over the past century as a curmudgeon and polemicist. Although some of our heroes of the faith were too combative, this volume clearly shows that Machen is not among them. For example, he keeps referring to these addresses as his “little” talks, and he frequently appeals to doubters as one who has also doubted. He concludes each address with a pastoral plea for his listeners to come to know Jesus. Dare I say that joy permeates his words as he speaks to his unseen audience? Take this excerpt:
Here we are, sitting down together quietly. Cannot we at least be friends? Cannot we at least try to understand each other, whether we can agree with each other or not? I do not think that I should be doing my part toward that mutual understanding if I concealed from you the real basis of what I am going to say. (26)
We next notice what Machen was and is most known for: his remarkable clarity. I binged on Herman Bavinck about six months ago, and he is a leading light and a must-read in his own regard. But it is easy to get lost in Bavinck’s lofty writing, something readers rarely suffer with Machen. He feels more like a teacher who dabbles in theology than a theologian who dabbles in teaching. He lays bare complex truths, clever deceptions, and the heart of controversies with remarkable lucidity. As Machen himself says, “I am subordinating all other ambitions in the little talks to the one ambition of being plain” (27).
Today, we often find loftiness without lucidity and lucidity without loftiness; in Machen, we find both lucidity and loftiness. His gift for clarity turns high-minded concepts into notable one-liners:
Here is a rule for you, my friends: no facts, no good news; no good news, no hope. The Bible is quite useless unless it is a record of facts. (40)
If the Jesus of the Gospels was a purely natural and not a supernatural person. . . everybody would believe. But then there would be one drawback. It would be this: the thing that everybody would believe would not be worth believing. (116)
One note of unsubstantial criticism is that the subtitle for this book is a bit of a buzzkill: A Systematic Introduction to the Christian Faith and Reformed Theology. Sometimes, precision serves to deter rather than allure. How about Reflections on the Things That Matter Most or Truth for Everyday Life? If a criticism is to be made of the talks themselves, it’s that some of the theological discussions do get a bit tedious. There are several chapters that are informative but not inspiring. That said, the advantage of the format of this book is that chapters are less than ten pages each, so the sections that drag are also brief.
Machen died abruptly doing what he did best: raising the alarm about counterfeit gospels to the far corners of the church. Dying from pneumonia in North Dakota, he dictated the final lines to be sent by telegraph to fellow professor John Murray: “So thankful for active obedience of Christ. No hope without it.” This was the topic of his second-to-last “little talk” and second-to-last chapter of this book.
There is a reason why people always mention these final words when they talk of Machen. He bore God’s word from the classroom to the radio to his deathbed in North Dakota. That same Word of Life brought him through the portals of death into eternity with his Savior, Jesus. Machen was not a culture warrior. He wanted others to see what he saw about Jesus—what he now sees with eternal bliss and with every tear wiped away.
Stephen Roberts is a US Army chaplain and has written for Modern Reformation, The Washington Times, and The Federalist.
