Introduction
Richard Burnett’s Machen’s Hope: The Transformation of a Modernist in the New Princeton represents an ambitious effort to offer a fresh perspective on a significant Presbyterian figure—one who is central to my own ecclesiastical tradition, the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. Burnett engages extensively with primary and secondary sources, sharing significant portions with the reader.
Burnett’s approach, much like James Eglinton’s work on Bavinck and Bruce McCormack’s on Barth, seeks to portray Machen as both modern and orthodox. The author focuses particularly on Machen’s crisis during his time studying in Germany and his later struggles at Princeton University and Princeton Seminary, as Machen sought to chart a scholarly course according to modern intellectual methods. Machen defied the common stereotype of fundamentalists, though he himself never embraced the label.
Modernity and Orthodoxy: A Familiar Narrative
Burnett highlights Machen’s modernity while affirming his orthodoxy, casting him as something of a “conservative modernist,” as Molly Worthen notes in her review of the book for First Things.
In the book, Burnett frequently challenges the interpretations of previous biographers like D. G. Hart and Ned Stonehouse. I find it curious that Burnett positions himself against Stonehouse, who was both a student and, for seven years, a close colleague and friend of Machen. Stonehouse’s work, though sometimes criticized for being hagiographic, also maintains critical distance at points. On balance, I would still give Stonehouse the benefit of the doubt when it comes to understanding the inner life of Machen.
Having more than 80 years of critical distance on a historical figure can be a great advantage. However, it can also skew certain considerations. For example, Burnett’s use of the terms “modern” and “modernist,” does not seem to align with how Machen himself used these terms. Machen consistently used “modernist” to describe a theological position that denied essential supernatural elements of the Christian faith. Burnett, however, seems to employ a different sense (perhaps one more widely used in current scholarship), which fits his narrative of Machen as an advocate and practitioner of modern scientific and intellectual methods..
While this alternative definition may serve Burnett’s purpose of portraying Machen as a modern intellectual with orthodox commitments, it risks misunderstanding—or downplaying—Machen’s actual theological battles, particularly his staunch opposition to liberal theology, which he saw as fundamentally incompatible with historical Christianity.
The “Later” Machen Reveals His Hope
The author does not address the most critical events in Machen’s life, such as the founding of Westminster Theological Seminary in 1929, the establishment of the Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions in 1933, and the OPC’s formation in 1936. I recognize that the author seeks to emphasize Machen’s crisis of faith and vocation, along with his attempts to “modernize” academics at Princeton. Yet, Machen’s later battles reveal his heart and spiritual priorities, and provide significant context. This is especially evident in his 1923 work Christianity and Liberalism.
The Core Debate: Machen on Supernaturalism and History
Burnett emphasizes Machen’s affinity toward modern rigorous methods of study, yet he tends toward separating his supernaturalist theology from his historical scholarship. This approach, reminiscent of Barth’s influence, is especially evident when Burnett quotes figures like Lyman Abbott and contrasts their views with Machen’s. Burnett (pp. 539–540) discusses how individuals like John Grier Hibben, Albert Parker Fitch, and Lucius Hopkins Miller, while affirming the supernatural, positioned themselves as advocates of “supernatural Christianity.” Burnett seems to suggest that Machen misunderstood their perspective.
This overlooks the core issue Machen was addressing. His concern wasn’t merely about acknowledging the supernatural in a mystical or dimensional sense; it was about affirming that God is actively and directly involved in history—something Machen believed his modernist opponents often failed to grasp.
Machen’s concern was not simply with the historical Jesus or a general study of history. He was adamant that God acts supernaturally and directly within history. These acts of redemption do not occur solely in personal experience or in another dimension, such as Geschichte or “God’s time for us.” They happen in our world, in our time. This was “Machen’s hope.” His final words, capturing this sentiment, were dictated to his friend, John Murray, in a telegram: “So thankful for active obedience of Christ. No hope without it.”
Conclusion
The book raises significant questions regarding Machen’s place in twentieth-century theology and presents a provocative perspective on his legacy. However, the author’s reframing of Machen as a modern historian who remains orthodox glosses over key aspects of Machen’s theological commitments. I sense that the author is seeking to identify an “early Machen” who ought to have embraced a mystical or dimensionalized Christianity—one that aligned with the thought of Herrmann or American Presbyterians like Fitch, Hibben, and Miller (or somewhat anachronistically, Karl Barth). Burnett appears to suggest that if only Machen had embraced this approach, he could have remained happily within the mainline Presbyterian Church (USA). I remain persuaded that, in the final 16 years of his life, such a version of Machen would have been unrecognizable to his colleagues, friends, adversaries, and perhaps even to Machen himself. Moreover, the mature Machen casts important interpretive light upon his younger self.
