Richard Muller, I have come to the conclusion seems to think that if he puts up enough moving targets, relative to the various theological trajectories in the post-Reformed orthodox period, that folks are bound to miss what in fact developed in and beyond that period of ‘Reformed’ history. This is how he constantly argues against what he calls the ‘older scholarship’ relative to their ‘kind of scholarship’ that portends to accurately articulate this period of thought. In other words, Muller believes that he has undercut the theological critique of post-Reformed orthodoxy (e.g. which is that the post-Reformed created their own theology, not in line with the original intentions of folks like Calvin, Vermigli, and others), by problematizing this period to the point that critiques put forward by the ‘older scholarship’ (including our own T.F. Torrance) is aiming at the wrong target; in fact a target of their own making (not even a real or representative target of this era).

I think what Muller really fails to grasp is that the ‘older’ scholarship wasn’t aiming at particular characters (and their idiosyncratic versions of ‘Reformed orthodoxy’), but instead they were aiming at the general contours that eventually emerged from this period. Their aim has parameters. While there may be infinite voices, there are finite confessions. Folks like Torrance took aim at the ‘kind’ of post-Reformed orthodox theology that came to fruition and blossom during the Remonstrant (Arminian) dispute; wherein the Synod of Dort and the Westminster Divines made the ‘orthodox’ voice known. This represents one target, not many. It represents a unified voice of theological crescendo; the orchestra being all of these idiosyncratic instruments of the post-Reformed orthodox who gave the Westminster Confession of Faith (WCF) symphonic melody. In short, the ‘older scholarship’, when critiquing the theology presented by the post-Reformed orthodox (or ‘Classic Calvinists’), are dealing with the symphony, not the individual instruments (I’m sure most of this is making no sense, but this is one of those instances where I’m journaling more than trying to inform, per se).

Muller has this to say about the ‘older school’ in regards to their ‘attack’ upon the post-Reformed orthodox understanding of the Covenant of Works (or whatever various names you want to give that, historically), and the charge of ‘legalism’ that they levied against this peculiar and ‘Federal’ way of framing things:

. . . A few essays have addressed the question of the interrelationship of the covenant of works and the covenant of grace, with widely differing results: essays by Kevan, Von Rohr, and Muller indicate a concerted effort to work out a variety of theological tensions between works and grace, human responsibility and divine election. McGiffert develops a variation on the older theme of two diverging tendencies in Reformed theology, but sees late-sixteenth-century covenant theology as representing a legal tendency over against the theology of grace taught by Calvin and his contemporaries. Far less nuanced, the works of Rolston, Torrance, and Poole understand developing covenant theology as a form of legalism and as an illegitimate addition to Reformed theology that disturbs the priority of grace over works by asserting a historical and potentially a theological priority of law over grace or by misunderstanding the bliblical concept of berith as a legal contract. These writers take great pains to set covenant theology at odds with Calvin, explicitly for the sake of their own Calvinian theological project, and they typically proceed as if Reformed federalism were a monolith with little variety of formulaiton and with no clear sense of the relationship of the concept of a covenant of works to the doctrines of grace, Christ, and salvation. Poole’s work is especially to be criticized for its heavy reliance on secondary sources and for its failure to deal with the breadth of contemporary scholarly reinterpretation of Protestant orthodoxy. (Richard A. Muller, “After Calvin,” 176-77)

So the historian, Muller, is going to set the dogmaticians (like Torrance and others) straight on ‘historical dogmatic’ issues. Do you see the tension here? Muller believes that if he relativizes the history enough, that he then makes the ‘older school’ look like their out to lunch and just ‘straw manning’ the history in order to coopt it with their own theological projects. But, the irony, to me, is that the older school wasn’t really attacking the history (well, maybe incidentally); their deconstruction and reconstruction involves the problems presented by the ‘theology’.

I have been reading another book, dealing with the same period, edited by Mack P. Holt, it is called: Adaptations of Calvinism in Reformation Europe. This book engages in actual ‘history’. It is not seeking to correct theologians on historical theological issues, and their constructive assessment of it; instead it actually seeks to ‘describe’ the history. This is where, I think, methodologically, Muller errs. He seeks to undercut theological assessment, by addressing it with history (as a discipline). This would be like scientists trying to emperically disprove the historicity of the resurrection of Jesus. Jesus’ resurrection is a theological event (in history, His own); the scientists who study observable phenomenon (by definition) have no space to intrude into things they aren’t intended to intrude upon. Muller, is a historian, he can or should describe the history; but he has no right to intrude upon theological matters, unless of course he want’s to claim to be a ‘theologian’.

In short, I think Muller has over-stepped his boundaries. He tries to sale his work, “After Calvin” as a historical piece that undercuts the thinking of folks like Torrance. To be fair, theologians often over-step their jurisdiction as well. Nevertheless, I think Muller should just be a historian, if that’s what he’s claiming to be; and leave the theology to the theologians.