Most everyone agrees that history is useful. Not everyone agrees on how history should be used. Since the mid-twentieth century, Christian historians have been debating the proper use of the past. In Reformed Evangelicalism and the Search for a Usable Past, Ian Hugh Clary enters that conversation by examining “the way that this concept of a usable past informed the writings of the independent historian, Arnold A. Dallimore” (18).
The book is laid out in seven chapters. After a brief introduction, the second chapter provides the backdrop to the debate among Christian historians over the question “Is there a Christian approach to church history?” Chapter 3 provides further background and gives a short biography of Dallimore, telling the story of his upbringing, education, pastoral ministries, and writing ministry.
The following section moves to Clary's analysis of Dallimore's historiography. Chapter 4 looks at his two-volume work on George Whitefield, analyzing how Dallimore dealt with three important themes in Whitefield's life—celebrity, slavery, and revival—“themes that could suffer most at the hands of an ideological bias” (20). The next two chapters examine Dallimore's shorter works, his biographies on Edward Irving and C. H. Spurgeon (chapter 5), and Charles, Susannah, and John Wesley (chapter 6). The final chapter provides a brief conclusion expressing appreciation for Dallimore's legacy and lessons for the Christian historian.
In his summary of the debate over Christian historiography (chapter 2), Clary boils the conflict down to two positions: the supernaturalist perspective and the naturalist perspective. The supernaturalist perspective “seeks to determine how God has moved in the specific events of history” (30). Grounded in a belief in the providential rule of God over history, this approach tells not only the events of history but also its meaning. The naturalist perspective, however, views such interpretations as outside the discipline of a historian. Rather than attempting to discern the hidden mind of God, this approach relies on social sciences to explain the events of history.
Between these two perspectives, Clary argues for a mediating position—both are needed for the church and the academy, and both views should inform the other. “Providential historians who write for the church can still publish work that is historically accurate and serves as a contribution to a particular area of study. . . . Likewise, professional historians can write well for a popular audience, bringing their historical learning to bear, and written in a way that will encourage Christians” (54). Dallimore, then, is a providential historian, but his work can still be evaluated according to academic standards.
Clary begins his evaluation with Dallimore's major work, the two-volume biography of Whitefield. After examining the three themes of celebrity, slavery, and revival, Clary concludes that Dallimore's biography of Whitefield is not hagiography. Technically, the work falls into the category of “filiopietistic history.” It is written “with the express conviction that twentieth-century evangelicalism has something to learn from Whitefield” (165). But against the charges of hagiography, Clary vindicates Dallimore as dealing accurately with Whitefield's failures, especially over the issue of slavery, but also in other areas of his ministry.
Dallimore's shorter biographies are a different story. These seven works were written in half the time of his work on Whitefield. Consequently, they do not reflect the same level of research and careful use of primary sources. Dallimore's theological biases are more evident in these biographies. This is especially the case in his work on Irving. “Dallimore's overall portrayal of the failures of Irving, for the sake of warning the church, is a manipulation of the past to serve a perceived good” (195). Clary agrees with Dallimore's critics that his anti-charismatic biases result in both anachronism and historicism. The other shorter biographies are less problematic and “are generally faithful to historical facts” (234). Even so, Clary raises notable questions and critiques, demonstrating that biographies written for the church can be subject to academic scrutiny.
Clary's work provides a significant contribution to the discussion surrounding Christian historiography. Rather than dealing in abstractions, this book offers a study of one of the more significant providential historians of the twentieth century. Clary's analysis of Dallimore's works sheds new insight into his historical method and contribution, defending aspects of his scholarship and pointing out his shortcomings. Future studies of Dallimore and his impact on Whitefield scholarship will do well to refer to this book. As a bonus, Clary's biographical chapter on Dallimore is a moving story of perseverance and hope amid poverty, depression, and loss.
Perhaps more significantly, however, this book provides an example of how one Christian historian can evaluate another's work. Clary models appreciation for Dallimore's church-facing writing, but he also takes him seriously as a historian. He does not hesitate to critique, but his overall judgments are charitable and mindful of the wider audience. It should be noted that Clary's criticisms are primarily academic. But if historians are also needed for the church, how does one evaluate a historian's ability to edify the church? Such a question is likely beyond the scope of this book. Nonetheless, this reviewer warmly commends this book for any Christian historian seeking to do history faithfully in search for a usable past.
