In his recent piece, The Paradox of Libertarian Theonomy, Ronald Dodson attempts to perform a post-mortem on the theonomic movement, suggesting that its alliance with limited-state principles was a mere “tactical adjustment” born of cultural anxiety. Dodson, leaning heavily on the later work of James B. Jordan, argues that we must move toward a “more mature” account of righteousness—one where the state is once again a “morally directive” force that “shapes its citizens.”
However, Dodson’s definition of “maturity” is a theological inversion. What he calls “maturity” is actually a return to the “weak and beggarly elements” of human legislation.
Before diving into the critique, I want to note my sincere appreciation for Ronald Dodson. Ron has been a guest on The Lancaster Patriot Podcast, and I value his contributions to the broader Reformed conversation. This response is offered in a brotherly spirit—a public disagreement among brothers who both desire to see the Lordship of Christ honored in the public square, even if we differ sharply on the standard by which that honor is measured.
The Talmudic Trap: Who is Really “Mature”?
Dodson claims that applying the Mosaic civil code directly is “immature,” arguing that the Law was merely a “tutor” for a child-like nation. He suggests that “mature” Christianity requires a state that “habituates [its citizens] toward certain ends.”
This is the exact error of the Talmudic Jews. When men decide that God’s written statutes are insufficient for the complexities of life, they do not find maturity; they find a labyrinth. They begin to create fences around the law—administrative codes, licensing, and thousands of pages of “prudent” regulations.
True maturity is not needing a bureaucrat to hold your hand. It is a people so saturated in the Law-Word of God that the magistrate can remain silent in the gate until an actual dispute arises. It is the mature adult who governs himself under God, requiring the magistrate only for the terror of the evildoer, not the tutelage of the citizen. Dodson’s “morally directive state” isn’t a sign of a mature society; it is a nursery for a people who refuse to grow up into the self-government God calls them to under the New Covenant.
The “Implausibility” Fallacy
Dodson argues that a full theonomic program became “politically implausible” in the 80s and 90s, leading theonomists to “retreat” into the church and family.
This reveals what I believe to be a subtle slide into pragmatism. To the prophet Jeremiah, calling for submission to God’s standard was “politically implausible” and led to his being thrown in a cistern. By Dodson’s logic, perhaps Jeremiah should have “transfigured” his message into something more palatable to the Egyptian alliance.
Lancastrian theonomists do not measure the truth of God’s Law by its “plausibility” in a poll. We plod. We build the parallel Christian subcultures Dodson critiques not as a defensive shell, but as the seedbed of the New Settlement. If the broader American church prefers the teats of the administrative state and the traditions of men, we will be labeled “libertarian” or “radical” for simply saying: “To the Law and to the testimony!” (Isaiah 8:20).
The Immigration Litmus Test: God’s Law or Man’s Quotas?
Dodson (and the Christian Nationalist camp he echoes) suggests that our rejection of a robust state is a “thin” libertarianism. Consider the issue of immigration.
The “morally directive state” wants walls, visas, quotas, and a massive bureaucracy to “shape the nation.” The Lancastrian Theonomist looks at God’s Law-Word. We see that God’s Law handles immigration through the establishment of justice and the freedom of the righteous to protect themselves. If a stranger enters, he is subject to the same judicial standard as the home-born.
We don’t need a “Department of Homeland Security” if we have the eighth commandment (Property Rights) and the first commandment (No Idolatry in the Gate). Dodson calls this “libertarian minimalism.” We call it faithfulness to God and his Word. (And it is also the only solution that works.)
Transfiguration or Mutilation?
Finally, Dodson uses Jordan to argue that the Law was “transfigured” into a “sacramental” political theology. While the ceremonial law was fulfilled in Christ, the judicial standard of what constitutes “theft” or “murder” or “false witness” did not “transfigure” into a blank check for human legislatures.
To say the Law is now “formative rather than constitutional” is a high-sounding way of saying that the magistrate is now free to make up the rules as he goes, provided he uses “Christian” vocabulary. This isn’t a “richer” vision; it is the wormwood of justice turned into bureaucracy (Amos 5:7).
The irony Dodson misses is that his “mature” vision is actually the easier path. It is far easier for a magistrate to hide behind a stack of man-made codes, technicalities, and bureaucratic procedures – all in the name of “shaping” the people – than it is to apply the Law-Word of God with precision and wisdom. The former requires only a law degree and a pension; the latter requires sanctified reason, judicial courage, and a deep knowledge of the Law. By outsourcing justice to a legislative assembly, we do not reach maturity; we get a system that allows both the magistrate and the citizenry to avoid the heavy lifting of biblical discernment. A society that needs ten thousand statutes to keep the peace is not a mature society—it is a nursery in need of a perpetual nanny. This was the error of Talmudic Judaism.
Conclusion
Dodson is right about one thing: the “synthesis” is over. But it didn’t end because theonomy failed; it ended because the “Western Legislative Tradition” finally unmasked itself as a statist idol. We are not “retreating” into a libertarian shell. We are standing in the gate, waiting for the more mature Christians to realize that their morally directive state is just a baptized version of the tyranny from which Christ set us free.
Adulthood in the Kingdom is not found in the expansion of human statutes, but in the faithful, difficult work of applying God’s perfect Law to the complexities of a fallen world. It is time for the Church to put away the childish things of the administrative state and finally embrace the weight of the Word. Until we do, we aren’t moving toward maturity; we are simply trading the chains of Egypt for the swaddling clothes of a baptized bureaucracy.











