Why I Keep Opening This Bible

I cannot say enough about the new Jonathan Edwards Study Bible. It landed in August 2026, an NKJV built around the mind of the man I have come to think of as the theologian of American courage. The notes are not decorative. They are sermons, resolutions, doctrinal bone, and the working method of a man who wrote as if ideas had consequences because they do.[1]

I say that as a reader, not as a salesman. Somebody asked me if I work for the publisher because I will not shut up about it. I do not. I want them to make money. Scholars spent years—some of them a couple of decades—compressing Edwards into a book you can carry. That labor has to eat. It has to buy a hamburger. It has to justify itself in a market or it dies in a seminar. Paul would have understood that sentence immediately.

Every time I get a new Bible and read it through a different set of notes, my angle shifts a few degrees. This time the shift was violent. I could not stop thinking what a miracle it is that the crucifixion was even reported, and what a second miracle it is that Christianity became a civilization instead of a rumor. I want to talk about Christianity as a military and commercial endeavor—not instead of a spiritual one, but because the spiritual claim had to survive contact with Rome, with human nature, and with time.

I would say the benefit of Christianity to the human race, and to Western civilization in particular, was magnificent. That is not nostalgia. That is an audit. And the audit keeps returning to one man who began as an enemy.

The Road to Damascus Was a Hostile Takeover

The most important conversion story in history is not a soft altar call. Saul of Tarsus was hunting the church. Then he was its most formidable champion. The turn on the Damascus road is personal, traumatic, and public all at once.[2] I think a lot of people live in that same weather: against the thing, then claimed by the thing, then unable to go back to the person they were.

Paul was not a fisherman. He was a trained Pharisee and a working tradesman, a tentmaker who could pay his own way.[3] That combination is the whole essay in miniature. He had letters and leather. He could argue with philosophers in Athens and stitch a living in Corinth. The original disciples had seen Jesus with their own eyes. Paul had seen the risen Christ in a different register, and he had a skill the others did not: he knew how to take a local fire and turn it into a network.

People like to romanticize the Jerusalem church in Acts, where believers held things in common. I look at that scene and I do not see a manifesto. I see a threatened family taking care of its own. Historians, when they are being honest, generally read it as voluntary generosity inside a persecuted community—not a planned economy, not a party platform, and not a model Paul exported as law.[4] Later ideologies would loot the language. That is what ideologies do. They steal the family table and call it a theory.

The Jerusalem group was not trying to invent socialism. They were trying not to die, and they were trying not to abandon widows. The arrangement did not become the operating system of the Gentile churches. Paul would not have let it. He was too busy building congregations that could stand on their own feet in cities that did not care whether they lived.

Why the Original Apostles Could Not Have Done Paul’s Job

I love the apostles. I do not confuse their calling with Paul’s. They were rooted in Jerusalem, preaching first to their own people. Their courage was the courage of witnesses. Several of them were poor. They put the emphasis on the message and on the willingness to be spent. Rome knew what to do with men like that. It crucified them, beheaded them, scattered them. We remember them because the record survived. Memory is not the same thing as scale.[5]

Paul fought with them. That fact is in the Bible, not in some cynical footnote I invented. He opposed Peter to his face when the Gentile question threatened to split the movement into a Jewish remnant and a half-welcome underclass.[6] Christianity did not lock arms and sing. It argued. It almost broke. The argument was about purity versus reach, table fellowship versus the map of the empire. Paul chose the map.

Without that fight, I do not think you get a world religion. You get a Jewish faction with a crucified Messiah and a short half-life. Rome was full of such groups. We do not know their names because they lost.[7]

John survived. Tradition says they tried to boil him and failed, then parked him on Patmos, where he wrote Revelation.[8] Paul did not survive. The usual account is execution in Rome under Nero, sometime in the mid-sixties.[9] People mix Paul and John the way they mix founders and finishers. Revelation is a vision of the end. Ephesians is a field manual for a people who have to live until the end. I need both. I do not pretend they are the same book.

The Tentmaker Advantage: Financial Independence as Spiritual Nerve

Here is the part church-language usually sands off. Paul could be bold because he was not living off the room. He reserved the right to refuse a paycheck from the very people he served so that no one could say he was selling them a product.[10] That is not pride. That is strategy. A man who can feed himself can say the thing that gets him uninvited.

I have watched too many movements collapse into client relationships. The preacher needs the donor. The donor needs the preacher to bless the donor. Pretty soon nobody will say the costly sentence. The original disciples, as I read them, were often one arrest away from disappearing. Their deaths were holy. They were also, in organizational terms, a warning. Martyrdom proves sincerity. It does not automatically prove succession.

Paul’s independence gave him latitude. He could travel. He could offend. He could plant and leave and write back when the plant started growing weeds. He could walk into a city as a man with a trade rather than as a dependent mystic. I think that is why his version of the faith could cross from synagogue to workshop to household to the imperial road system. He understood customers. I do not mean he cheapened the gospel. I mean he knew that people must be able to receive a thing, carry a thing, and organize their lives around a thing—or the thing remains a speech in an alley.

If you want to know why I keep calling Paul a businessman, that is why. Not because he maximized profit. Because he understood value, timing, distribution, and the difference between a local hero and a transferable institution.

What Ephesians Actually Does

Ephesians is my favorite book in the Bible. It is short enough to carry and large enough to rebuild a mind. Paul does not wander. He frames the whole Christian movement: what God did before the foundation of the world, what Christ did in history, what the church is as a body, how a household should run, and how a believer is supposed to stand when the visible world is not the real battlefield.

The line that will not let me go is Ephesians 6:12. We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.[11] I have come to think that verse is one of the most adult sentences ever written. It is what a person says after he has stopped believing that the problem is merely the neighbor’s personality.

Scholars argue over whether Paul meant demons, institutions, cosmic beings, or the spiritual charge inside empires and customs. I think he meant the whole weather system.[12] Names on mailboxes are not nothing. They are not the war. The war is the thing that climbs into names and makes them march.

That is why Ephesians could travel. It is theology you can use in Ephesus, Corinth, a Pennsylvania fort, a civil-war cemetery, or a county Republican breakfast. It tells a church how to live without becoming a cult and how to fight without mistaking people for the enemy. Paul called that arrangement a mystery revealed: Gentiles as fellow heirs, not guests in someone else’s religion.[13] That is scale. That is the business decision at the heart of the New Testament.

Flesh, Blood, and What I See in a Granddaughter

I have a young granddaughter. I watch her learn to walk, grab, flinch, laugh, and decide which faces matter. She is writing relationships into her nervous system that will still be there when she is fifty—parents, uncles, cousins, the strange country of grandparents. That is the human miracle and it is also the trap. We become so fascinated by whose nose she inherited that we forget to ask the older question.

What was she before she was a body? What is the spiritual essence that is using this little frame to enter the world? I do not mean that as a greeting-card. I mean it as politics. Paul called the hidden agents principalities. I have arrived at the same word by the long road of watching people. I am bad at names. People notice. They think I am careless. I am not careless about the thing I think is actually driving the name. Tim, Bob, Bill—fine. I want to know what climbed into Tim.

I do not get very excited about fleshly pursuits. I care about the politics of the powers that wear bodies like coats. That sounds cold until you have watched good people hurt each other while insisting they are only being practical. Paul’s sentence explains the pattern. The pattern is older than the persons.

This is also why the incarnation is not a sentimental Christmas pageant to me. If the real problem were only human manners, God could have sent another list. The Old Testament is not shy about the Spirit of God coming upon men. The scandal is that God himself takes flesh and walks into the mess. I think that is because human beings are not, at bottom, the main antagonist. The forces that use human beings are. Meeting us in the middle of the mess was not a branding exercise. It was an invasion.

When Does a Life Begin If the War Began Earlier?

I will not pretend this next piece is a public-policy white paper. It is the metaphysical question hiding under the abortion argument, and most of the argument never reaches it. The usual fight is: when does the fetus become human enough? Conception, heartbeat, viability, birth, one day before birth. Those are body questions. They matter. They are not the last questions.

Paul’s principalities force a harder timing problem. When does the spiritual being begin its journey in this world? I think the powers are already at work when a man and a woman find themselves wanting to form a union that could produce a child. They are either willing a life into the world or leaning the world toward demolition. Political systems, in my view, are the large, clumsy mirrors of that same contest. We build governments the way we build families: as flesh-and-blood answers to a conflict we can barely see.

If that is true, then a culture that talks only about bodies will keep losing to a culture that understands appetite, despair, and the unseen pressure on the will. I am not asking the county health department to adopt a demonology. I am asking Christians to stop acting as if Ephesians 6:12 were poetry.

What Christianity Gave the West

I said the gift was magnificent. Let me be specific enough to be attacked.

Christianity took a Mediterranean world that exposed unwanted infants, ranked souls by pedigree, and treated crucifixion as interior decorating for highways, and it taught that world that the weak had a claim on the strong. It made the person, not the clan, the unit of moral concern. It made conscience a public fact. It made time itself a story with a judgment at the end, which is another way of saying it made history matter.[14][15]

That moral architecture did not fall out of the sky in 1776. It was preached, copied, argued, and institutionalized for centuries before any Virginian wrote a declaration. Even secular historians who cannot recite the catechism now admit they are living inside the blast radius.[16] You can hate the church and still be using its furniture. Most modern humanitarian language is Christian language with the serial numbers filed off.

I do not say this because I think Christians have always behaved like saints. They have not. I say it because the standard by which we condemn their failures is itself a Christian standard. Rome did not accuse itself of failing the least of these. We do. That habit had to be invented.[17][18]

Jonathan Edwards and the American Nerve

If Paul is how the faith left Palestine, Edwards is one of the reasons it grew a backbone in English-speaking America. He is remembered, lazily, for one terrifying sermon in Enfield in 1741.[19] That sermon is real. It is also a fragment. Edwards was after joy in God, the nature of true affection, the freedom and bondage of the will, and a revival that would not fake itself.[20]

The First Great Awakening gave the colonies a shared moral language before they had a shared government. It taught ordinary people that authority could be wrong, that the soul had business with God that no bishop or parliament could intercept, and that history was not a closed room.[21] Calvin Coolidge, who is not usually cast as a revivalist, said Edwards’s philosophy had prepared the colonists for the Declaration.[22] That is a president talking, not a youth-group brochure.

I do not think America exists in the form I care about without that fire. I also do not think Edwards was sitting in Northampton in the 1740s designing the United States. Influence is a cascade, not a conspiracy. Edwards shapes a climate. The climate shapes men who never met him. The men walk onto battlefields and into conventions carrying instincts they think are simply common sense.[23][24]

His written corpus is enormous. Yale has spent generations editing it. The new study Bible is the first time a lot of ordinary readers will feel that weight without needing a research library card.[25]

Fort Necessity: The Wrong Turn That Organized My Year

My wife and I were trying to get toward Washington. We missed a turn, dropped onto the National Road with a camper that does not enjoy mountain switchbacks, and kept going because turning around had become a theology problem of its own. We pulled into Fort Necessity because the parking lot was large enough for me to get a Mello Yello out of our camper refrigerator.[26]

We were early. It was a midweek afternoon, still cold, almost empty. I went back to the refrigerator for my Mello Yello, which is as close as I get to a sacrament on the road, and we walked the ground. Young Washington was here. He built a sad little circular fort in a meadow and lost. That loss did not make him small. It started the education of the man who would refuse a crown.

I did not hear an audible voice. I am not going to insult the place by inventing one. What I did get was an obsession. The same year I stood at Fort Necessity I stood at Washington’s grave at Mount Vernon and in the room where he slept.

A few months later the Washington film made the circuit and we went. I liked it. But the question it could not answer for me was the one the field had already asked: what made Washington Washington? I think part of the answer is upstream of muskets. It is the Awakening’s idea that a people can be morally addressed as a people—that rebellion against a corrupt center might be obedience to a higher one.[27]

A phone call in the bookstore

While I was in the Fort Necessity bookstore, Nancy Nix called. She and I do local Republican work in Butler County, Ohio. We do not live on the phone. We think in the same direction often enough that when something is jammed, we say so and talk it out. She was dealing with the eternal problem of twenty-five people in a room who will not share a sandbox well together. I was surrounded by Washingtoniana. The juxtaposition was perfect. The early church had the same meeting. Paul had the same meeting. Scale always produces factions. The work is not to pretend otherwise. The work is to keep the factions from killing the thing they claim to love.

Ford’s Theatre, Gettysburg, and the Men Who Paid the Invoice

We did Washington properly. We stood outside the White House. That same day we went to Ford’s Theatre. I had already had enough of John Wilkes Booth by the time I looked at the box Lincoln was shot in. I was hungry. I wanted a sandwich and a quieter mind. My wife was right to make us cross the street.[28]

A guide who had noticed we were not ordinary tourists took us through the Petersen House. I sat in that small room a long time. The bed, the chair, the knowledge that a president died a few feet from where tourists now whisper. I found myself wondering what Lincoln’s mind was doing while the body shut down. I cannot know. I think he was thinking about the Union as a moral object. I think the Awakening’s grandchildren were in that room whether anyone said Edwards’s name or not.

Then Gettysburg. We took the RV and gave the battlefield days, not hours. Weather, timing, day one, day two, day three, the cemeteries, the spot of the Address. I have read the military histories.[29] What I could not shake was the interior of the men. What do you tell yourself when you stand up on the third day and move toward a fence line that is trying to erase you? Some of them had Bibles. Some of them had fragments of sermons. Some of them had only the residue of a culture that had already decided the Union was a covenant and slavery a crime against it.[30][31]

A republic capable of spending that much blood to keep a proposition alive did not get that capacity from a seminar on self-esteem. It got it from a long Christian argument about the human person, providence, and judgment. Lincoln’s Second Inaugural is what that argument sounds like when it has to bury hundreds of thousands of its own sons.

The Cascade I Keep Seeing

I will put the chain as cleanly as I can, knowing historians will want asterisks and I will give them some.

Without Paul, the Jesus movement remains a Jerusalem story. Without that scaled faith, there is no Christendom to form Europe’s conscience. Without that conscience, the English Protestant world does not produce an Edwards. Without Edwards and the Awakening, the American founding generation does not speak with the moral confidence it actually used—even the ones who were not revivalists. Without that founding, there is no Union for Lincoln to save. Without Lincoln, the American experiment becomes a slave republic with European manners.

That is not a straight line on a chalkboard. It is a watershed. Remove the spring and the towns downstream do not exist in the same form. I think Paul is the spring. I think Edwards is one of the American aqueducts. I think Washington and Lincoln are what the water looks like when it has to put on a uniform.[32][33][34]

People who only memorize the names of apostles miss this. They know who died. They do not know why the death did not end the firm. Paul is the reason the firm had branches.

The Business DNA of the Christian West

Once I saw Paul as a scaler, I started seeing the later fights differently. Mission movements that worked were not only brave. They were organized. They printed. They raised money. They trained. They built schools that outlived the missionaries. They treated the gospel as something that had to arrive in a form a stranger could use.

Only after that practical machinery proved it could create loyalty, literacy, and order did the Roman world—and much later the American world—fully absorb what it could not kill. I do not mean Christianity became a mere business. I mean it survived because it was not allergic to competence.

That is why I get impatient when the same voices that enjoy hospitals, universities, and human-rights talk treat business itself as original sin. The anti-business mood in the modern West is not just an economic opinion. It is often an attack on the very mechanism that let a demanding faith endure: independent people who can move, build, refuse a patron, and take a message across a border without asking a committee for permission.

Paul refused to live off handouts when the handout would have compromised the work. A civilization that sneers at that instinct will not keep the civilization Paul helped make. It will keep the vocabulary for a while. Then it will keep only the complaints.

Imperfect Instruments: Why I Compare a Businessman to Paul

I am going to say the impolite part. A lot of Christians wanted their political deliverance to arrive dressed like a Sunday-school painting. History does not usually staff itself that way. Paul had been a persecutor. He was not the profile the Jerusalem church would have ordered from a catalog.

I look at Donald Trump the same way I look at other blunt instruments in American life. I do not need him to be a systematic theologian. I need to notice what actually happened: a businessman with a public mess behind him enlarged the platform available to people who had been lectured out of public life. Charlie Kirk and a lot of ordinary conservatives could stand in rooms they would not have been invited into. I think that matters. I also think it is possible to be grateful for a door and still wish the doorman had better manners.

Paul did not come in the package people expected. Neither do most of the people who keep a movement from being locked in the sacristy. If your test for usefulness is polish, you will be ruled by people who are good at meetings and bad at history.

What a Second Great Awakening Would Actually Look Like

I do not think the next awakening arrives as a White House program. Administrations can restrain harm and they can appoint judges. They cannot regenerate a people. That work starts in churches, kitchens, Bibles, and arguments that last longer than a news cycle.

When I drive around my community on Sundays I see a lot of churches. Many of them are doing honest work. Many of them are reciting names. They know the apostles. They know the outline. They do not always know the politics inside the outline—the fight between purity and scale, martyrdom and mission, the local table and the empire of cities. That is why I am having this conversation in public. Surface catechism will not hold a civilization that is being talked out of itself.

A modern awakening would look, in practice, like people recovering nerve. Not vibe. Nerve. The willingness to tell the truth about good and evil without outsourcing the definitions to whatever academic fashion is currently eating its own young. It would look like families that treat children as souls rather than lifestyle accessories. It would look like churches that can stand a businessman in the pulpit without calling him unclean and can stand a poor man in the pulpit without calling him a mascot. It would look like gratitude for the West instead of a permanent apology for having won.

Edwards hoped God would walk with a people through the battlefields of ordinary life. I want that sentence back in circulation. Not as décor. As an operating assumption.

Why I Will Keep Talking to AI About This

A lot of people who read me despise artificial intelligence. Some of them despise Elon Musk on principle. They think any conversation like this is a rehearsal for a comic-book villain. I understand the fear. Tools this sharp can cut the wrong direction.

I also think it is cowardice to let the fear own the tool. We built machines that can hold a line of argument, retrieve a library, and stay in the fight when a human conversation partner gets tired. Used stupidly, that becomes a substitute for thought. Used properly, it becomes a way to do what Paul did with letters: send a structured argument into places the sender cannot physically be.

This is not a prophecy of Ultron. That is a man using a new press. The first Great Awakening had Whitefield’s lungs and a rising print culture.

A second one will have churches, Bibles, and whatever honest instruments we refuse to surrender to people who hate the civilization that made the instruments.[35]

I am not asking anyone to worship a model. I am asking them to notice that reference, memory, and argument are part of spiritual warfare too. If the principalities are real, they are not frightened by our refusal to use a library because the library is now silicon.

Know Where You Are

I watched, not long ago, the easy public habit of praising every sacred book as if they were interchangeable courtesy items. Respect, as a civic manner, is one thing. Amnesia is another. I have read the Qur’an more than once. I can say, without theatrics, that it has never done to my mind what Edwards does, and it has never done what Ephesians does. That is not a foreign-policy program. It is a reader’s report.

A nation that cannot tell the difference between the sources of its own law and the sources of someone else’s empire is a nation preparing to be edited. I will not help with the editing. The point of the progressive pressure I have spent years writing against is not manners. It is unmaking. If you want to unmake a people, you first convince them that the faith which built their hospitals, their conscience, and their suspicion of kings was always a crime scene.

I think that project is the current face of the old war. Flesh and blood will carry it. Flesh and blood are not the origin of it.

What I Want the Reader to Do

If you only remember one practical sentence, remember this: start with Paul if you want to know how the faith survived, and start with Edwards if you want to know how it learned to speak American.

Buy the book if you can. Read Ephesians slowly, out loud, as if it were written to a congregation that might split next week—because that is the situation it was written for. Then read Edwards on affections and ask whether your religion is an appetite or a performance. Then walk some actual ground. Necessity. Vernon. Gettysburg. The cheap seats at Ford’s Theatre. History gets into the legs in a way it does not get into a feed.

Notes

The numbered references in the text correspond to the sources below and to the bibliography. Biblical citations follow common English versification; quotations from Ephesians use the New King James Version to stay with the Edwards study edition.

[1] The Jonathan Edwards Study Bible: Experience Abiding Joy in Christ (NKJV), general editor Dr. Matthew Everhard (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, August 18, 2026). Notes drawn from Edwards’s corpus; essays on his life, theology, spiritual practices, and the First Great Awakening; Edwards’s Resolutions; introduction to the Miscellanies system.

[2] Acts 9:1–19; Galatians 1:11–24; Acts 22:3–21; Acts 26:12–18.

[3] Acts 18:3. The Greek is skēnopoioi, traditionally “tentmakers.” See Kenneth Berding, “Was Paul a Tentmaker? Part 1,” The Good Book Blog, Biola University, October 18, 2021.

[4] Acts 2:44–47; Acts 4:32–37. Compare the later famine collection in Acts 11:27–30. Historians generally read the Jerusalem sharing as voluntary generosity inside a threatened community, not a standing political economy.

[5] Acts 4:13.

[6] Galatians 2:11–14; Acts 15:1–35.

[7] Josephus, The Jewish War; Tacitus and Suetonius on successive unrest under Rome.

[8] Revelation 1:9. The boiling-oil tradition is in Tertullian, Prescription Against Heretics 36.

[9] 1 Clement 5; Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 2.25. Traditional date: Rome, under Nero, c. A.D. 64–67.

[10] 1 Corinthians 9:6–18; 1 Thessalonians 2:9; 2 Thessalonians 3:7–8; Philippians 4:14–18.

[11] Ephesians 6:12, NKJV.

[12] Clinton E. Arnold, Powers of Darkness (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1992); Walter Wink, Naming the Powers (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984); Hendrik Berkhof, Christ and the Powers, trans. John Howard Yoder (Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1977).

[13] Ephesians 2:11–22; 3:1–13.

[14] Larry W. Hurtado, Destroyer of the Gods (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2016); Larry Siedentop, Inventing the Individual (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2014).

[15] Tom Holland, Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World (New York: Basic Books, 2019).

[16] Tom Holland, Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World (New York: Basic Books, 2019).

[17] Peter Brown, The Rise of Western Christendom, 3rd ed. (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2013).

[18] Christopher Dawson, The Making of Europe (London: Sheed & Ward, 1932).

[19] Jonathan Edwards, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” Enfield, Connecticut, July 8, 1741.

[20] Jonathan Edwards, A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections (1746); Freedom of the Will (1754).

[21] Alan Heimert, Religion and the American Mind (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1966); Patricia U. Bonomi, Under the Cope of Heaven (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986); Thomas S. Kidd, The Great Awakening (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2007); Frank Lambert, Inventing the “Great Awakening” (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999).

[22] Calvin Coolidge, Address on the One Hundred and Fiftieth Anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, Philadelphia, July 5, 1926.

[23] George M. Marsden, Jonathan Edwards: A Life (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003); Mark A. Noll, America’s God: From Jonathan Edwards to Abraham Lincoln (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002).

[24] Edwards died March 22, 1758, weeks after becoming president of the College of New Jersey. The responsible historical claim is cultural inheritance, not a pocket sermon in every haversack.

[25] The Works of Jonathan Edwards, Yale University Press; digital corpus at the Jonathan Edwards Center, http://edwards.yale.edu.

[26] National Park Service, Fort Necessity National Battlefield. Battle of July 3, 1754.

[27] Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association, Mount Vernon, Virginia.

[28] Ford’s Theatre National Historic Site and Petersen House, Washington, D.C. Lincoln died April 15, 1865, at 7:22 a.m.

[29] Allen C. Guelzo, Gettysburg: The Last Invasion (New York: Knopf, 2013).

[30] Abraham Lincoln, Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863; Second Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865.

[31] Lincoln, Cooper Union Address, February 27, 1860; presidential fasting and thanksgiving proclamations, 1861–1865.

[32] George M. Marsden, Jonathan Edwards: A Life (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003); Mark A. Noll, America’s God: From Jonathan Edwards to Abraham Lincoln (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002).

[33] N. T. Wright, Paul and the Faithfulness of God (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013); F. F. Bruce, Paul: Apostle of the Heart Set Free (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977).

[34] Gordon S. Wood, The Radicalism of the American Revolution (New York: Knopf, 1992).

[35] Harry S. Stout, The Divine Dramatist: George Whitefield and the Rise of Modern Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991).

[36] Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business.

Bibliography and Further Reading

Scripture and primary Christian sources

The Holy Bible, New King James Version. Nashville: Thomas Nelson.

The Jonathan Edwards Study Bible: Experience Abiding Joy in Christ (NKJV). Edited by Matthew Everhard. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2026.

Edwards, Jonathan. A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections. 1746.

Edwards, Jonathan. Freedom of the Will. 1754.

Edwards, Jonathan. “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” Sermon, Enfield, Connecticut, July 8, 1741.

Edwards, Jonathan. The Works of Jonathan Edwards. 26 vols. New Haven: Yale University Press. Digital edition: Jonathan Edwards Center at Yale University. http://edwards.yale.edu.

The Apostolic Fathers. 1 Clement. Late first century.

Eusebius of Caesarea. Ecclesiastical History.

Tertullian. Prescription Against Heretics.

Paul, the early church, and the powers

Arnold, Clinton E. Powers of Darkness: Principalities and Powers in Paul’s Letters. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1992.

Berding, Kenneth. “Was Paul a Tentmaker?” Parts 1–2. The Good Book Blog. Biola University, 2021.

Berkhof, Hendrik. Christ and the Powers. Translated by John Howard Yoder. Scottdale, PA: Herald Press, 1977.

Bruce, F. F. Paul: Apostle of the Heart Set Free. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1977.

Dunn, James D. G. The New Perspective on Paul. Rev. ed. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005.

Hurtado, Larry W. Destroyer of the Gods: Early Christian Distinctiveness in the Roman World. Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2016.

Meeks, Wayne A. The First Urban Christians: The Social World of the Apostle Paul. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983.

Stark, Rodney. The Rise of Christianity. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996.

Wink, Walter. Naming the Powers: The Language of Power in the New Testament. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1984.

Wright, N. T. Paul and the Faithfulness of God. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2013.

Christianity and Western civilization

Brown, Peter. The Rise of Western Christendom. 3rd ed. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2013.

Chesterton, G. K. The Everlasting Man. London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1925.

Chesterton, G. K. Orthodoxy. London: John Lane, 1908.

Dawson, Christopher. The Making of Europe. London: Sheed & Ward, 1932.

Holland, Tom. Dominion: How the Christian Revolution Remade the World. New York: Basic Books, 2019.

Lewis, C. S. The Abolition of Man. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1943.

Lewis, C. S. The Screwtape Letters. London: Geoffrey Bles, 1942.

Siedentop, Larry. Inventing the Individual: The Origins of Western Liberalism. Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2014.

Edwards, the Awakening, and American political religion

Bonomi, Patricia U. Under the Cope of Heaven: Religion, Society, and Politics in Colonial America. New York: Oxford University Press, 1986.

Heimert, Alan. Religion and the American Mind: From the Great Awakening to the Revolution. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1966.

Kidd, Thomas S. The Great Awakening: The Roots of Evangelical Christianity in Colonial America. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2007.

Lambert, Frank. Inventing the “Great Awakening.” Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999.

Marsden, George M. Jonathan Edwards: A Life. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003.

Noll, Mark A. America’s God: From Jonathan Edwards to Abraham Lincoln. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002.

Stout, Harry S. The Divine Dramatist: George Whitefield and the Rise of Modern Evangelicalism. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1991.

Sweeney, Douglas A. “Jonathan Edwards: Legacy.” Jonathan Edwards Center at Yale University.

Tocqueville, Alexis de. Democracy in America. 1835–1840.

Founding, Union, and the ground I walked

Blight, David W. Frederick Douglass: Prophet of Freedom. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2018.

Coolidge, Calvin. Address on the One Hundred and Fiftieth Anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Philadelphia, July 5, 1926.

Guelzo, Allen C. Gettysburg: The Last Invasion. New York: Knopf, 2013.

Lincoln, Abraham. Cooper Union Address. February 27, 1860.

Lincoln, Abraham. Gettysburg Address. November 19, 1863.

Lincoln, Abraham. Second Inaugural Address. March 4, 1865.

National Park Service. Fort Necessity National Battlefield. Farmington, PA.

National Park Service. Ford’s Theatre National Historic Site. Washington, D.C.

Wood, Gordon S. The Radicalism of the American Revolution. New York: Knopf, 1992.

Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association. George Washington’s Mount Vernon. Mount Vernon, VA.

Classical and Roman context

Josephus. The Jewish War.

Tacitus. Annals.

Suetonius. The Twelve Caesars.

The author’s related work

Hoffman, Rich. The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business.

Rich Hoffman

More about me

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About the Author: Rich Hoffman

Rich Hoffman is an author, political consultant, and strategic advisor based in Cincinnati, Ohio, and the creator of The Politics of Heaven—a unique framework that connects biblical theology, ancient history, and modern power structures to explain how moral alignment and spiritual forces shape global events. Blending real-world political experience with deep research into archaeology, UFO phenomena, and suppressed historical narratives, Hoffman offers compelling commentary on topics ranging from ancient civilizations and the Dead Sea Scrolls to modern populist movements, paranormal continuity, and leadership strategy in chaotic environments. As the author of The Gunfighter’s Guide to Business and the forthcoming Politics of Heaven, he brings a grounded yet provocative voice to media discussions, supported by firsthand experiences and a cross-disciplinary approach that bridges science, history, and theology. For interviews, speaking engagements, or expert analysis, visit richhoffmanbooks.com or contact directly via phone at 513-307-5815 or email at rhoffman@richhoffmanbooks.com.  If you’ve seen the movie, Disclosure Day and want to talk about it and the implications of Presidnet Trump’s UAP disclosures, let me know and we can bring some color to your coverage. https://richhoffmanbooks.com/media-inquiries-broadcast-topics-and-contact-info/?frame-nonce=ad51e7ecba I do have a firsthand UFO encounter to discuss.