A Third Riposte to Kevin DeYoung on Assurance of Salvation in I John: An Alternative

I

This will be my third and final riposte to Kevin DeYoung. As you will recall I have been responding to DeYoung’s two blog posts in regard to a doctrine of assurance of salvation; in particular having to do with jesusthehealerthe way DeYoung understands that doctrine as taught in the epistle of I John.

In the first two ripostes or rejoinders from me, we covered, in suggestive and querying fashion, how the original context of I John might not correlate well with DeYoung’s “straightforward” reading of that text; this was the basic gist of my first post in response. In the second post I tried to get further into the role that the history of interpretation, interpretive tradition, hermeneutic, and metaphysic has; not just in informing DeYoung’s exegesis, but mine (and everyone’s) as well. In this post, I will attempt to introduce an alternative reading of I John that counters DeYoung’s reading of it. As part of this alternative reading, in an inchoate way, I hope to make clear my belief that “assurance of salvation,” as far as I can see, is not actually part of the positive teaching of Scripture as understood from its revealed reality in Jesus Christ.

II

Let’s start with the proposition, first off, that assurance of salvation is not part of the positive teaching of Scripture. Before I attempt to sketch what I mean we will need to have a little context in regard to what we mean by ‘positive.’ In medieval theology (where we get so many of our categories from) there were different via[s] or ways that people used in their respective approaches  to their doing of theology; the ‘positive way’ (via positiva) that I am referring to in this post contrasts with what was known as the ‘negative way’ (via negativa). The positive way (for purposes of brevity) is simply the way of doing theology that focuses on what is revealed (tied into kataphatic) rather than doing theology that is speculative (which is the negative way tied to what is called apophatic), and based upon inferential reasoning, and more than not contemplative and/or philosophical reflection. So when I refer to ‘positive’ in this discussion, this is what I mean.

If we delimit ourselves to the ‘positive way’ assurance of salvation, then, is not something that ever gets addressed. The emphasis in God’s Self-revelation in Christ is always on life eternal; it is not concerned with trying to assuage people about doubts in regard to whether they personally and individually are “saved,” or one of the “elect.” If we have a proper understanding of faith we will realize that it is not something that is self-generated or that is in us (think of Martin Luther’s iustia Christi aliena, ‘the alien righteousness of Christ’); instead we will understand that what faith looks like is that bond that is shared between the Father and the Son for us by the Holy Spirit. And so the focus, by definition, of eternal life and salvation is not something that we get, and thus must hold onto, or demonstrate as something that we possess; instead the focus is always on God’s life in Christ, and participation with him. As I John concludes it gives us this decisive word:

10 The one who believes in the Son of God has the testimony in himself; the one who does not believe God has made Him a liar, because he has not believed in the testimony that God has given concerning His Son.11 And the testimony is this, that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. 12 He who has the Son has the life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have the life. 13 These things I have written to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life. 14 This is the confidence which we have[l]before Him, that, if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us.[1]

Alongside of this:

23 This is His commandment, that we believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, just as He commanded us. 24 The one who keeps His commandments abides in Him, and He in him. We know by this that He abides in us, by the Spirit whom He has given us.[2]

The focus in these passages is upon Christ, and not us. The differentiation, in context that John is making between those outside of Christ and those inside of Christ (so to speak) has to do with belief in Christ and keeping ‘His commandment’; which we see, in the context is that ‘we believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ, and love one another.’ Those who do not believe in Jesus Christ (and that he has come in the ‘flesh’ see chapter 2, which the Gnostics rejected i.e. that Christ was the Son of God come in the flesh), and those who do not genuinely love one another are outside of Christ (in a “saving” kind of way) because they are not of his ‘seed’ and thus not participating in His life. And so we know that we are not of the Gnostics (or any other aberrant understanding of Jesus Christ) because we genuinely know who Jesus is for us by the Holy Spirit. The focus positively is upon who Jesus is, not upon whether I am saved or not, per se. The distinction has to do with the identity of Jesus, the eternal Son; if someone is worshipping a false Jesus they will have to prove their salvation by what they do. The Christian, the one worshipping the eternal Son does not have to generate any type of morality, or anything else, they know they have eternal life based simply upon their relationship to Jesus Christ in and through who He is for them. As a result those of the ‘seed’ believe, and have love; and we understand that this is not something self-generated but God generated through Christ by the Holy Spirit’s testimony. Again, we are not in need of psychological assurance about our eternal destiny at this point; instead we are solely focused upon Christ and the reality of who He is (this seems to be the context of I John).

We only have a context of psychological angst about assurance of salvation issues if we think salvation is about us. The way Kevin DeYoung approaches things through his understanding of election, limited atonement, and individual salvation creates space for anxiety about ‘my’ salvation. It makes me wonder if I am one of the elect for whom Christ died, and thus I will come to passages like those found strewn throughout First John potentially looking for ways that I can be assured of my salvation, of my election; but this is all foreign to the actual context of I John and other texts of Scripture (at a supposition level).

III

As we were working through the section above you may have had a question (or two) still, and you should. Even if the ‘commandment’ is to ‘believe’ and to ‘love one another’ we still have a dilemma, especially if I am claiming that these are not intended to be “proofs” of my personal salvation and relationship to God. In fact, as I was sketching above you probably were thinking: “hmm, well this sounds exactly like what DeYoung has been arguing; that my personal belief and morality are two of three earmarks that are intended to provide me with assurance of salvation.” But as I have been suggesting this is to think errantly, per the context in I John, as well as theologically.

Theologically, if we start with a principled focus on Christ, as I have been contending that I John does, we will think about ‘belief’ and ‘loving one another’ from a theological anthropology generated from Christ; we will understand that the Word indeed has been made flesh, made human for us, and we will think about ‘belief’ and ‘love’ and salvation from this vantage point. If we do this, now our hermeneutic, our “metaphysic” is beginning to take shape; and it is this that we as evangelical Calvinists believe is fundamental to thinking about all of these things. The focus now is on Christ’s vicarious humanity, as such it is his ‘faith’, it is his ‘belief’, it is his ‘love for the other’ that grounds ours; so we believe from him, from his humanity for us by the Holy Spirit. Instead of working from ourselves to God, we understand, in a positive way, that God has worked from Himself to us in Christ. And so the focus, in I John, and elsewhere, is not on my faith, on my morality, on my belief, on my ethics, but on Christ’s for me. The focus is on His participation with us, and then our participation with Him in and through His mediatorial humanity for us. Do you see any focus, from this frame, on assurance of salvation? If Jesus is everything for us; if he is the elect humanity of God for us, do questions about assurance of salvation ever arise?

IV

In closing I think it is safe to conclude, if anything, that through this process we have at least come to see the power of theological commitments relative to biblical interpretation. The realization that we all do theological exegesis should be apparent.

When educating our brothers and sisters about this issue the best thing we can do, if we are having doubts about our salvation, is to reframe the whole discussion; we should not reinforce it the way that DeYoung and that whole tradition has done. If we follow positive theology these questions should never arise, at least not in a critically and objectively understood way. We are all human beings, indeed, part of that condition is weakness and vulnerability, the antidote to that is not to reinforce all of that, but instead it is to point the One who always lives to make intercession for those who will inherit eternal life; the antidote is to point people to their High Priest, and to the ground of their very life and being. The assurance will come when we have hope and confidence in who Jesus is for us, not who we are for Him.

 

[1] I John 5.10-14.

[2] I John 3.23-24.

A Second Riposte to Kevin DeYoung on Assurance of Salvation in I John. There is a History

I

I wanted to continue to engage with Kevin DeYoung’s recent couplet of posts on the doctrine of ‘assurance of salvation.’ In my last post,
as you might recall, I tried to simply poke the exegetical basis upon which DeYoung feels (apparently) sure-footed relative to articulating a doctrine of assurance based upon his straightforward calvinwoodreading of I John. I intimated a few things in that post (in regard to further critique and alternative), and so in this post I would like to further elaborate upon a kind of critique of what DeYoung believes in regard to assurance of salvation, and its exegetical basis.

As we discussed previously (in my first post), as is typical, I believe it is really important to be cognizant and upfront with how we have come to our exegetical conclusions. In other words, instead of asserting that we just believe that this is what the Bible communicates (on whatever topic), I think it is of the upmost importance to be aware of the theological assumptions and tradition that we are committed to; DeYoung should be commended for this, on one hand. He is very open about his Calvinism, and does not try to hide that. But as we can see his Calvinism (of the variety that he follows) informs his exegetical conclusions in regard to first John. This is what I would like to highlight further in this post; i.e. the history of interpretation and the power it has not just for DeYoung, but for all of us, of course!

II

In DeYoung’s second post he wrote this:

There is nothing original about these points. Stott calls the three signs “belief” or “the doctrinal test,” “obedience” or “the moral test,” and “love” or “the social test.” As far as I can tell from the commentaries I consulted, my understanding of 1 John is thoroughly mainstream. I made clear that “These are not three things we do to earn salvation, but three indicators that God has indeed saved us.” I also explained that looking for these signs was not an invitation to look for perfection. “Lest this standard make you despair,” I said at one point, “keep in mind that part of living a righteous life is refusing to claim that you live without sin and coming to Christ for cleansing when you do sin (1:9-10).” In other words, the righteous life is a repentant life.

As DeYoung notes, he is in comfortable company; he has a lot of compatriots when it comes to his particular view of assurance as found, ostensibly, in I John. But even though DeYoung is in good company, does that make his view of I John and assurance true? No, of course not! And I am sure that DeYoung would agree with me; but then he most likely would go on (as he has) and continue to hold the view that he does and continue to claim that his view and understanding of I John is unremarkable when it comes to the history of Protestant Reformed interpretation. One problem I see with this is that it engages in ‘question begging’ (petitio principii). It presumes that the conclusions it has come to (the view that DeYoung holds on I John) is self-evident, almost tautologous , and that the burden of proof is on those who would question his conclusions about assurance in I John as I do. But why is that? I mean why is the burden of proof on those who disagree with DeYoung?

The form of Calvinism that DeYoung holds to, as I noted in post one, has a metaphysic; in other words, it has a way of viewing and presenting God (a view that doesn’t just fall off the pages the of Scripture). As a result of this view, we end up with a conception of God that elevates ‘performance’ before and for God, I would contend, to an unhealthy level. One prominent example of this is evidenced in the theology of one of the “founders” of the style of Calvinism that DeYoung is a proponent for; the example is provided by Puritan theologian William Perkins (of the 17th century). Indeed, it is this period where this kind of performance based style of thinking about God and salvation was introduced; at least for the Western, English speaking, west. And it is this style that, I contend, provides the theological (metaphysical) categories through which DeYoung, and much of the tradition DeYoung breathes from, gets their strength (as it were) from. Richard Muller describes what this style of theology looked like in Perkins’ theology, and in particular with reference to assurance of salvation:

William Perkins and Johannes Wollebius are among the later Reformed writers who used one or another forms of the syllogismus practicus in their discussions of assurance of salvation. In Perkins’ case, the syllogism is both named and presented in short syllogistic form. As is clear, however, from the initial argumentation of his Treatise of Conscience, the syllogisms are all designed to direct the attention of the believer to aspects or elements of the model of Romans 8:30, where the focus of assurance as previously presented by the apostle was union with Christ and Christ’s work as the mediator of God’s eternally willed salvation. In other words, as Beeke has noted, Perkins draws on links–calling, justification, and sanctification–in what he had elsewhere referenced as the “golden chaine” of salvation. Thus, Perkins writes, “to beleeve in Christ, is not confusedly to beleeve that he is a Redeemer of mankind, but withall to beleeve that he is my Saviour, and that I am elected, justified, sanctified, & shall be glorified by him.” Perkins’ syllogisms will be variants on this theme.

In addition, Perkins does not so much advocate the repetition of syllogisms as argue the impact of the gospel on the mind of the believer, as wrought by the Holy Spirit. Speaking of the certainty that one is pardoned of sin, Perkins writes,

The principall agent and beginner thereof, is the holy Ghost, inlightning the mind and conscience with spirituall and divine light: and the instrument in this action, is the ministrie of the Gospell, whereby the word of life is applied in the name of God to the person of every hearer. And this certaintie is by little and little conceived in a forme of reasoning or practicall syllogism framed in the minde by the holy Ghost on this manner:

Every one that believes is the childe of God:

But I doe beleeve:

Therefore I am a childe of God.

What is more, Perkins identifies faith as a bond, “knitting Christ and his members together,” commenting that “this apprehending of Christ [is done] … spiritually by assurance, which is, when the elect are persuaded in their hearts by the holy Ghost, of the forgiveness of their owne sinnes, and of Gods infinite mercy towards them in Iesus Christ.”[1]

What this quote further helps to shed light on (beyond helping to establish my point about the history and theological categories behind DeYoung’s theological approach that have led to his exegetical conclusions) is the role that ‘election’ plays in all of this. A doctrine of assurance of salvation flows, quite naturally, from a view of election that is both unconditional and supported by definite or more popularly limited atonement; indeed this is the categorical history behind DeYoung’s style. In other words, DeYoung’s Calvinism, like Perkins’ (in this respect) holds that God, in eternity past, ‘elected’ that some people would necessarily become Christians, and in order for this to happen Christ then came and died for these elect people alone thus satisfying the requirement of God’s holiness, paying for the penalty of sin (for the elect). But this created a dilemma, Karl Barth explains this dilemma in his critique (yes) of Calvin’s view of election (which for all intents and purposes is very similar to Perkins’ and DeYoung’s); he writes:

How can we have assurance in respect of our own election except by the Word of God? And how can even the Word of God give us assurance on this point if this Word, if this Jesus Christ, is not really the electing God, not the election itself, not our election, but only an elected means whereby the electing God—electing elsewhere and in some other way—executes that which he has decreed concerning those whom He has—elsewhere and in some other way—elected? The fact that Calvin in particular not only did not answer but did not even perceive this question is the decisive objection which we have to bring against his whole doctrine of predestination. The electing God of Calvin is a Deus nudus absconditus.[2]

Here we see further how not only is someone’s psychology at play in this discussion, but also what this view of salvation, election, etc. has to do with the type of God behind it. This insight from Barth also takes us further than we want to go in this post; suffice it to say, as Barth insightfully notes, the kind of election behind DeYoung’s approach untethers Jesus as the basis and ground of election for humanity by placing that burden upon individual people. What this does is to thrust people upon themselves, and to somehow “prove” that they are indeed one of the elect for who Christ died (this used to be called in Perkins’ day experimental predestinarianism).

III

Lest we lose the forest for the trees let’s try to reign this rain-deer in by way of summarizing where we currently stand.

We have noted that Kevin DeYoung’s approach to assurance has a history, and that this history took shape under the pressures of a certain theological trajectory (primarily the one found in Puritan Calvinist theology). As a result of this history, DeYoung has come to the text of I John, in particular, with certain categories in place when it comes to thinking about the “elect’s” relationship to God in salvation. We have come to see (if ever so shadowy) that there is a certain conception of God driving the shaping of these categories, and as a result there is an emphasis upon ‘performance’ in salvation placed upon the elect individual; of the sort that will lead elect people to attempt discern if they are truly one of the elect for who Christ has died. We have also come to see (with the help of Barth’s critique of Calvin) that the framework that DeYoung is operating under, relative to God, places the emphasis upon God’s choice of individual people for salvation, instead of placing the emphasis upon God’s personal choice to be elect for all of humanity in his own humanity in Jesus Christ; with the result of forcing the elect to continuously attempt to prove their salvation (and thus find assurance) through “1) personal belief, 2) personal obedience, and 3) personal morality.” So the emphasis, if all of this is the case, is upon introspection and what some have called ‘reflexive faith’ (i.e. looking at our good works, etc., and then looking to Christ and being able to attribute those good works, belief, morality to Christ’s life in us – thus what Muller identified for as the practical syllogism).

DeYoung has a history. It causes him to read I John a certain way. I have a history, an informing theology, and it causes me to read I John much differently. In the next post or whenever I have the chance, I will try to elucidate what my theology is, and why I think it better makes sense of a passage like I John, and how it handles the claims put to I John that make it sound like it supports a Puritan like doctrine of assurance.

 

 

 

[1] Richard A. Muller, Calvin and the Reformed Tradition: On the Work of Christ and the Order of Salvation (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2012), 268-69.

[2] Karl Barth, “CDII/2,” 111 cited by Oliver D. Crisp, “I Do Teach It, but I Also Do Not Teach It: The Universalism of Karl Barth (1886-1968),” in ed. Gregory MacDonald, All Shall Be Well: Explorations in Universalism and Christian Theology, from Origen to Moltmann (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2011), 355.

 

A Riposte to Kevin DeYoung on Assurance of Salvation in First John

Kevin DeYoung, Young, Restless, and Reformed, has written two posts now, on his blog sponsored by The Gospel Coalition, engaging assuranceofsalvationJesuswith the topic of Assurance of Salvation. Throughout the rest of this post I intend to interact with what DeYoung has written, and to offer a kind of critique and then alternative to what DeYoung has offered.

(Be warned, this is only an introductory post, I fully intend on offering a fuller scale and more detailed response to DeYoung, based upon the conclusions you will see at the end of this post)

I                

There are many ways into a discussion on what many call ‘pastoral theology’ revolving around the psychology of whether or not someone is genuinely saved; indeed, that is what is at bottom here: i.e. a kind of theologically induced psychology relative to how someone perceives their relationship to God in Jesus Christ (either in the affirmative or the negative). DeYoung chooses to go the ostensible exegetical route; choosing as his primary text (locus classicus) the epistle of I John. This little Johannine letter is probably the most appealed to book in the Bible for discussing and developing a doctrine on a so called assurance of salvation. In DeYoung’s post he identifies three classic points that are claimed to be (not just by DeYoung, but by many in the Reformed camp in particular) the defining components that frame the epistle of I John; at least when we are attempting to develop answers to our psychological questions in regard to our status as ‘saved’ or ‘unsaved’ (or we could say with the classical Reformed position: ‘elect’ or ‘reprobate’). Here are the three points that DeYoung lists as a kind loci (using identifiable theological and psychological and ethical points to interrogate and purportedly interpret I John):

The first sign is theological. You should have confidence if you believe in Jesus Christ the Son of God (5:11-13).

The second sign is moral. You should have confidence if you live a righteous life (3:6-9).

The third sign is social. You should have confidence if you love other Christians (3:14). (source)

I would like to respond to these points in turn. Now because this is a blog post (and not a term paper), my responses can only be suggestive and general in trajectory, but hopefully made in such a way that these points provided by DeYoung will take on a more critical tone (and at least get problematized); such that a different hermeneutical background will be provided leading to the conclusion that what DeYoung (and much of the Reformed tradition has offered) is less straightforwardly “Biblical” as DeYoung would have us believe, and, well, more ‘hermeneutical’. In other words, I would at the very least like to illustrate that there is something deeper; something more metaphysical going on behind Kevin’s exegesis versus the straightforward and pastoral reading of the text that he contends is present in his reading of this epistle. This seems like too large of a task, really, to attempt to accomplish in about seven hundred and fifty words or so, but that is what we will attempt to do with the space remaining.

 

II

DeYoung, in his second post on this topic is responding to a critic of his posts (much as I am becoming now); a Lutheran interlocutor who challenges DeYoung’s understanding of assurance from his Lutheran convictions (which in part will be more closely aligned to my critique, at least in some respects). DeYoung writes in response to the Lutheran, this:

While it is never a good idea to “focus inside ourselves,” it is impossible to make sense of 1 John if looking for moral, social, and theological evidence is entirely inappropriate. For example, 1 John 2:5-6 says “By this we may know that we are in him: whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked.” Likewise, 1 John 3:10 says, “By this it is evident who are the children of God, and who are the children of the devil: whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is the one who does not love his brother.” We see similar “by this we know” language in 1 John 2:3; 3:14, 19, 24; 4:2-3; 4:13; 5:2. Clearly, we are meant to know something about the person by looking at what he believes, how he lives, and how he loves. One doesn’t have to be in favor of morbid introspection to understand that 1 John urges Christians to look for evidences of grace in themselves and in those who might be seeking to lead them astray. (source)

I think DeYoung’s response to the Lutheran, at face, sounds compelling, but I think it is more complex, even at a simple exegetical level, than DeYoung let’s on. I mean what if I John isn’t really answering the questions that DeYoung (and the Westminster Confession of Faith that he appeals to) is putting to it; what if I John was written to first century Roman/Graeco Christians who were being tempted by a prevailing philosophical system of the day known as Gnosticism (at this early stage this would have only been an incipient or proto form of Gnosticism) which, in general is a dualistic system of thought that sees the material world (inclusive of human bodies) as evil, and the spirit as pure and undefiled, albeit trapped within a fleshy world of evil and malevolence (which was seeking escape from this world of material back to the pure Spirit from whence it originally came; escaping through a series of graded levels of ‘secret’ knowledge that was intended for the elect, so to speak)? And so if this were the case, if I John is challenging these early Christians to look to Christ instead of a secret knowledge that turns inward instead of upward for release (so to speak) from themselves; then wouldn’t it be somewhat presumptuous to take I John captive as a text that is intended to answer questions about assurance of salvation that were formed most prominently in the 16th and 17th centuries in scholastically Reformed Western Europe, and then in a final and intense form in English and other Puritanism[s]?

DeYoung might respond to my first riposte here by querying “so what?” He might say that what I have suggested above is unnecessarily abstract, and even if true (the context I have suggested) does not really undercut his pastorally motivated development towards a doctrine on assurance of salvation. He might say: “that’s interesting, Bobby, but my points are simply attempting to identify universal principles present within the first letter of John, in such a way that transcends its original context, while at the same time seeking to honor it.” I might simply respond: how, Kevin, does your engagement of I John honor it when you are imposing questions upon it in a schematized way that does not fit into the questions it was originally seeking to address? I might ask: “if the conception of salvation present within I John fits well with the dogmatic conception of salvation that he reads it from as formed from 16th and 17th century Calvinist categories?” If the conception of God, based upon appeal to Aristotelian categories (primarily), the metaphysic used to shape the God of the Reformed theology that DeYoung follows, coalesces with the God revealed in Jesus Christ that is being referred to in John’s letter?

III

In conclusion, I obviously think things are more complicated in regard to reading the first epistle of John. I think it is too facile, and not apparent enough to attempt to read first John as if it readily answers questions put to it that were generated not by its original audience, but by a certain conception of God (and thus interpretive methodology or hermeneutic) that I contend is not similar (categorically) to the God revealed in Jesus Christ (if thought from Jesus Christ, first).

And so based upon my conclusion what is left is to explore what the alternative to DeYoung’s hermeneutic is. We have seen that there is a Lutheran alternative, but that’s not the only one; there of course are other ways to read first John based upon other metaphysics, or maybe no metaphysics. In other words, in a later post from this one, I will contend, in another response to DeYoung’s post, that what he is doing is, as we all do, is engaging in theological exegesis. Thus, under the guise of being “pastoral” or maybe “straightforward” DeYoung smuggles in certain interpretive suppositions that he is committed to, “theologically,” in an a priori way, as we all do, that has led him to his conclusions about assurance of salvation; and in particular in his reading of that doctrine in the epistle of I John.

More to come (as I have time). In the more to come I will attempt to sketch the role that our theological positions have upon our exegeses of the texts of Scripture, and in that sketch I will attempt to, as I noted, provide an alternative theological exegetical way that ultimately stands in contradistinction to DeYoung’s conclusions in regard to assurance in I John.

 

 

An English Puritan Critique of Contemporary ‘Reformed Theology’

There continues to be resurgence among many of my evangelical dortbrethren of appropriating classical theistic, classically Reformed theology for today’s evangelical church. The Gospel Coalition comes rushing to my mind most prominently when I think about who is having the broadest impact among evangelical North American pastors, but TGC is not alone! There is also an academic undercurrent among up and coming pastor-theologians and young scholars as well who are helping to contribute to this retrieval and push back to what we ought to call a retrieval of Puritan Federal or Covenant theology.

In light of this I want to offer a counterpoint. There is a better way to go, and ironically it reaches back into the Puritan past as well. There were critiques present among the Puritans themselves in regard to what has become the most prominent form and accepted form of that tradition today. And this, I think is the troubling part; what is being pushed today, retrieved today, is one strand of classically Reformed theology, without noticing that there were more strands available to draw from, strands materially distinct one from the other. The strand that is being retrieved most strenuously today, I would suggest, is the one that pushes a nomist or Law-based spirituality. Part of the reason this is so, I would further suggest, is because among those doing the retrieval there isn’t a critical apparatus available to them to critically engage that period of ideas for today. And so it is just presumed among these folks that the whole period and development of English Puritanism, Federal theology, and classically Reformed theology is pretty much a monolith. But this is too facile, and this presumption does not withstand critical and historical scrutiny.

Since I think this retrieval is potentially deleterious to the souls doing the retrieving and then the souls that these souls teach I want to alert people to the reality that there is indeed more depth and a better way forward in regard to reaching back into this period, if we feel the need to at all to begin with. Ron Frost offers a helpful index toward better being able to engage this period critically and in a way that might allow thinkers to think critically about this period. Here are four distinct strands that were present within English Puritanism; as we understand what these strands are better we will be set up to think about Reformed theology more critically and in a way that we will not attempt (hopefully) to import theological themes that ultimately (I would contend) are destructive to our Christian souls.

Here Ron Frost identifies these four strands as he writes about the theology of William Perkins and Richard Sibbes in his now published PhD dissertation:

Perkins’ moralistic assumptions. The Old Testament moral law was fully engaged with Perkins’ supralapsarian theology. Obedience to the law served to display God’s glory among the elect and God’s glory is the goal to which every aspect of the supralapsarian model moves. In Perkins’ view, a person’s ability to achieve God’s glory through obedience requires that the moral quality of every action should be well defined. To this end Perkins offered a taxonomy of sins in his Treatise of the Vocations or Calling of Men that looked to the Mosaic Decalogue. A closer examination of the law as part of Perkins’ theology of God awaits chapter two but some initial comments will introduce Perkins’ place among English theologians who elevated the law.

Perkins’ emphasis on the law was part of a broader movement among the Puritans. Jerald C. Brauer proposed four categories of Purtians: nomists, evangelicals, rationalists, and mystics. His attention was drawn to the smallest of the categories, the mystics, given his interest in Francis Rous. Nevertheless his recognition of the two major groups, nomists and evangelicals, displays the same division among Puritans noted by Schuldiner, Knight and the present study. Brauer, in fact, identifies Sibbes as the Puritan who epitomized the evangelicals. Nomists, according to Brauer, “held the fundamental belief that the divine intention is to recreate obedient creatures who can now, through grace, fulfill the intent of God, namely, obedience.” Brauer’s nomists include Thomas Cartwright, John Field, Walter Travers, John Penry, John Udall, John Greenwood, William Pryn, and Samuel Rutherford. Perkins, overlooked in the list, must be included on the basis of the criteria that Brauer identifies. It was, in fact, Perkins’ written expositions of Federal theology that did the most to promote the importance of obedience to the law for sanctification among Puritans in his era.[1]

I would contend, using this taxonomy laid out by Brauer via Frost, that what dominates Reformed theology in our current context is the nomist law based understanding. This understanding emphasizes obedience to the law (the third usage of the law) as what it means to live a fruitful life unto God. There is no emphasis in this framework on a loving, winsome relationship with God, but instead a life of rigorous performance based salvation.

The reality is though, is that none of this will affect folks too much. On one hand most evangelicals are so aloof to theology that most of this will just be academic to them, or then on the other hand there are indeed academics who study Reformed theology, but for the most part it remains an intellectual exercise. Nevertheless, I hope that some of this will make some sort of headway into the minds and hearts of people who might be interested in the history of ideas and development of Reformed theology. I hope that this stuff isn’t just academic to you, and I hope that theology matters to you; it should, since it is the study of God, and in our case the Triune Christian God.

[1] RN Frost, Richard Sibbes. God’s Spreading Goodness (Vancouver, WA: Cor Deo Press, 2012), 47-8.

My Response to Brandy’s Critique of classical Calvinism (not Evangelical Calvinism)

Merry Christmas, all! I thought as I have a moment between opening presents, and waiting for the ham to finish up, that I would respond to this comment that a lady named Brandy just made yesterday on my ‘Guest Posts’ page; and unless I highlight it here, nobody will see it. I am thinking (and I am not totally sure) that Brandy somehow came across my blog, saw the name ‘Calvinist’ and then imported all of the usual connotations into what that usually stands for as she offered her critique of Calvinism in her comment (that I am sharing and responding to here).

So let’s hear from Brandy, and how she critiques classical Calvinism based upon her perception of it (her critique does not actually apply to Evangelical Calvinism, which I already alerted her to in that thread). I will respond after her comment.

Merry Christmas!

At this time of the year as I find my thoughts filled with the joy that is the birth of Christ, I can’t help but sometimes wonder how a Calvinist can truly say that Christmas is merry with sincerity? Could one really find delight in the fulfillment of the Calvinists’ God’s detailed plan to bring every person into this world with no ability to accept Him, with no ability to do anything but evil, and then this same God torments forever and ever these depraved people who have no ability to do anything but what they have done? And for the lucky few to whom He “gives” eternal life, He does this by imposing his will on them through no choice of their own, and grants them eternal life only in exchange for a lifetime of servitude. Is there anything joyful in this horrific plan when it is unmasked from all its intellectually sounding words and creeds? Is this Calvinistic UNESCAPABLE sentence of eternal torture really good tidings for the majority of mankind?

I am so thankful that these Calvinistic characteristics do not represent the nature of our loving God. That I can joyfully adore the God of Christmas who provides a gift of eternal life for all mankind; that I can wonderfully proclaim to every person that the Saviour of the world has come and taken away the sins of the entire world! That God is pleading and long-suffering with each human being that each might believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. That He enables every single person to receive Him, and his only sincere will is that every human being would accept his free gift. This is the wonderful Christmas story, one that truly offers merriment and joy to all mankind as a free gift with no obligations. A gift that every person has the ability to accept and has to do nothing to earn or keep.

I am speaking plainly here about the doctrine of Calvinism, but I truly love those who are Calvinists and count them as Christian friends just as I do anyone who believes on the Lord Jesus Christ. I do believe, however, that it is spiritually beneficial to occasionally shine a light on the disturbing philosophy behind Calvinism. When one strips away all of Calvinism’s fancy creeds and theories and restates them in simple terms, we can clearly see its core theology of a God that torments people forever whom he (God) brought into the world with no ability to do anything different than what they have done. And this was the plan he choose (among the infinite plans he could have implemented) simply because it makes him happy to do this. Surely anyone whose God-given conscience has not been completely seared must find themselves troubled about how a good and holy God could practice these kind of terrors. These attributes stand in stark contrast to the righteousness and goodness which God represents and asks us to follow. They stand in stark contrast to the good tidings of great joy which is the Christmas story.

Some of what Brandy communicates is accurate, but much of it is based upon a reductionism and oversimplification of things. To be sure, what she articulates in her comment has nothing to do with what we have called Evangelical Calvinism. We believe that Jesus has genuinely died for all of humanity, and then the offer of salvation has genuinely and efficaciously been offered to all who will; but we believe this only because all of this effectual salvific reality has been realized in the vicarious and particular humanity of Christ for us. So with that cleared up, we can engage a little further with Brandy’s critique of classical Calvinists.

One thing I take issue with is Brandy’s apparent disdain toward creeds and intellectualism; the kind that she associates with Calvinism. I am not totally sure what she is referring to here since she doesn’t flesh her assertion out there, but my guess is that she is referring to something like the Westminster Confession of Faith, the Canons of Dordt, and maybe other confessions of the Reformed faith. As far as the intellectualism that she refers to, that is pretty much a red herring, since all theological positions (even Brandy’s, whatever her’s is) have some pretty sophisticated philosophical concepts standing behind them (the best approaches are able to utilize the grammar offered by certain philosophical systems and essentially gut them and repurpose them in a way that Christian doctrine and reality is given an intelligible apparatus and grammar that allows for intentional worship and service to God). I think really what Brandy is referring to is an experience[s] she has had with certain Calvinists over the years, and the way that these folks, by way of attitude have communicated Calvinist teaching to her; you know the so called cage-stage Calvinists who get a hold of Calvinist doctrine, and understand it just enough to be dangerous. It seems like this is what Brandy is probably referring to.

Then, Brandy is kicking against double predestination hard; the idea that God predestines some to eternal life (the elect), and others to eternal damnation (the reprobate). In a nuts and bolts kind of way I suppose her critique at this point is pretty spot on. But her critique isn’t really a critique of this system at a material level, she seems to be moving too quick, and triumphantly asserts certain things that I know classical Calvinists have a response to; and I am referring to educated classical Calvinists. That said, I would ultimately agree with Brandy, as far as the problem she notes in regard to the deterministic God. That notwithstanding, Brandy’s solution is not laudable! Brandy essentially offers not even the Arminian position, in regard to so called “free will,” she offers, as she left it, not even semi-Pelagianism, but instead she offers full blown Pelagianism; i.e. the idea that human beings are born with an innate capacity to choose eternal life, or not. My guess is that if Brandy was pressed harder she probably would adopt an Arminian position here.

At the end of the day, Brandy did not even come close to critiquing Evangelical Calvinism, but she did try to critique classical Calvinism. It would be interesting to see how classical Calvinists would respond to Brandy; my guess is that they would claim that Brandy has oversimplified things, and then ask her to offer a more material critique of classically conceived Calvinism.

TULIP, Evangelical Calvinist Style

The TULIP Evangelical Calvinist style:

  • Total Depravity = ‘He who knew no sin became sin for us that we might become the righteousness of God in him.’ II Corinthians 5.21.
  • Unconditional Election = God in Christ elected humanity for himself that ‘by his poverty we might be made rich.’ II Corinthians 8.9.
  • Limited Atonement = The atonement was ‘limited’ to Christ’s humanity for us, for all of humanity. I John 2.2.
  • Irresistible Grace = God chose to not be God without us prior to our choice to be for him; indeed it his choice for us in Christ that grounds and funds humanity’s choice to be for him, in and through the Spirit. Galatians 2.20.
  • Perseverance of the Saints = God’s life is indestructible, and so it will always persevere for us. Hebrews 7.25.

Something like that.

A Tale From Our Puritan Past: Temporary Faith, Experimental Predestinarianism, and the Practical Syllogism

The following is a post I wrote some years ago, and while I have developed in my understanding in some ways—like I might argue with Kendall’s attribution of the doctrine under discussion to Calvin—what remains central is the reality that following Puritan theology, and now neo-Puritan theology (like the kind Piper has made popular), has the same kind of informing theology and implications as described below by R.T. Kendall (he himself is no stranger to controversy, and Paul Helm has responded to Kendall in book form). But given the release of that new book From Heaven He Came and Sought Her: Definite Atonement in Historical, Biblical, Theological, and Pastoral Perspectives edited by David Gibson and Jonathan Gibson, I think continuing to highlight the kind of implications that are associated with a doctrine like ‘definite atonement’, ‘particular redemption’, and/or ‘limited atonement’ is apropos. And so here is the post (this will also give you insight into the ways I used to write much more frequently):

As we read further with R. T. Kendall he answers my question in my last post on where “Temporary Faith” went. Let’s follow along as Kendall describes the unfolding of this doctrine and how the pastoral implications of this teaching became the “hard teaching” of what we now commonly refer to as Calvinism:

The doctrine of temporary faith became the embarrassment, if not the scandal, of English Calvinism. The followers of Perkins claimed less and less for it so that it eventually presented no threat at all to the believer; William Ames gave its virtual demise a systematic sanction. This teaching seems to have begun with Calvin himself and to have been perpetuated especially by Perkins. Neither Calvin nor Perkins apologizes for a teaching that may seem to some as pastorally insensitive. This teaching depicts God as giving the reprobate, whom He never intends to draw effectually, but a ‘taste’ of His grace. Indeed, in the preface to Whether a Man Perkins claims that this temporary faith ‘proceedeth from the holy Ghost, but yet it is not sufficient to make them sound professor’. These men teach this doctrine simply because they find it in Scripture; to them it explains such passages as Matthew 7:21-3, Hebrews 6: 4-6, and the Parable of the Sower.

The thesis in Whether a Man is that a man may think himself regenerate when he is not, but a truly regenerate man ‘maie discerne’ that he is. In this connection Perkins employs 2 Peter I: 10 (‘Give diligence to make your calling and election sure: for if ye do these things, ye shall never fall’), a verse he sees as the chief mandate for preaching generally as well as the formula by which Christians particularly may prove to themselves that they have the object of an effectual calling. The verse 2 Peter I: 10 may be safely called the biblical banner for the Perkins tradition; it stands out in bold relief on the title-page of Whether a Man and heads the list of Scriptures printed on the title-pages of his other works.

It is Perkins’s conviction, then, that the regenerate man may discern that he has the knowledge of saving faith, or assurance of election. Such knowledge Perkins calls ‘experimental’. The testimony of the Spirit is given by ‘an experiment’ that is not conjectural but ‘an infallible certenty of the pardon of sinne’. Perkins believes that 2 Peter I: 10 is to be related to one’s conscience. The conscience itself, he believes, takes effect in a man’s mind by a process of syllogistic reasoning. Conscience pronounces judgement ‘by a kinde of reasoning or disputing, called a practical syllogisme’. By the ‘practical syllogisme of the holy Ghost’ one may not only have ‘experimental certentie of the truth of the Bible’ but know ‘hee is in the number of the elect’. (R. T. Kendall, “Calvin And English Calvinism To 1649,” 7-8)

Again, I am struck by the lack of this kind of language and thinking amongst those who claim to be the heirs of folks like William Perkins and William Ames. I have interacted with plenty of contemporary Calvinists today, and read many of their writings (even their blogs); and I can honestly say that I have never heard the grammar that we are hearing described here. In other words, I don’t hear the language of temporary faith, experimental predestinarian, practical syllogism; and beyond that I don’t hear contemporary Calvinists stressing over whether they may or may not be one of the elect. I don’t see them trying to discern if they have a ‘real faith’ or a ‘temporary faith’; instead most typically assume the “positive side” of this equation, and just assume that they indeed are one of the elect — the negative piece, articulated by folks like Perkins, that they in fact could only “appear” to have a saving faith is really never engaged (I would suggest, at least with the Western psyche, that contemporary Calvinists are more socio/culturally “liberated” and “individualized” so that the notion of their “election” simply becomes an “understood reality” for them).

Even Kendall notes that teaching like this became a “scandal” for the Puritans and the implied pastoral concerns that this kind of teaching engendered; but instead of jettisoning this teaching these “divines,” like Perkins, came up with an elaborate system and procedure to counter the negative vacuum that things like “temporary faith” generated — so the creating of the mechanism known as the “practical syllogism.”

Proof of Life: My Good Works; Really?!

If I hear, one more time, that ‘my good works’ are proof and evidence of my salvation, I think I might loose it! When someone asserts that (as a Protestant) that my good works–even though still tainted–are evidence and proof that I am one of the elect or “saved,” I always wonder what in the heck! they are asserting; other than platitudes that are just that. This is common refrain from our Puritan bogus past of experimental predestinarianism, practical syllogisms, etc.; but how in fact this can actually be the case, either theologically, or even exegetically is incredible to me. I am not ranting from, necessarily, an exegetical vantage point at the moment (but theological? Yes!); I am ranting from the crass reality of lived life–the observable kind! If good works are the standard and proof of Christianity, proof of life, my good works and your good works; then I would say we are all damned, serious! If this proof of life, of election, by good works, just has to do with motive, then we are damned (we don’t have good motives apart from Christ’s from whence we participate). If this proof of life, of election, by good works is manifested concretely by good actions that I do, then who is to say that these were not just done out of deontology and duty driven motives (like keeping the law), and not actual Christ centered? And if this mix is so hard to discern, then how in the heck am I supposed to find certitude of my election, of my salvation, by looking at manifest good works in my life; and further, how am I supposed to discern this in your life?!

The above scenario is absolutely bogus! If you have a system of salvation that requires you to look at your good works, first, and then only reflexively at Christ, then you have a bogus system of salvation, and you should repent of it and repudiate it. You should quit telling people that this is what the Bible teaches, because it surely does not! The Bible teaches what our hermeneutic says it does, what our prior theological commitments dictate it does. I don’t see any way around this. I am irked as I write this, because I have grown very weary of this irresponsible non-sense being foisted on the body of Christ at large. If you are telling people that they need to demonstrate their salvation by their good works, you are preaching a false gospel, that in my strong opinion is anathema!

Does this mean that I am accepting, then, an anti-nomian gospel? No, it means that I am affirming a Christ-concentrated conception of the gospel. See my last post. Are good works part of being a Christian? Yes! But that is just it, they are part of being a Christ[ian], part[icipation] in Christ’s sufficient/efficacious good works for us. His good works have demonstrated that He is the only One who is truly good, God. Good works bear witness (Mt 5) to His life, to His full and complete “saved” life and vicarious humanity. Does this objectify salvation? Absolutely! Good works are witness bearers to the only one who is truly good, and truly saved; Jesus Christ.

Rant, over. I feel a little better now. Proceed with the rest of your day now.

Sublating the Gospel: The Gospel Coalition, 2013

The National TGC or The Gospel Coalition conference is currently underway; today is the kick off day for the next three days, through the 10th, of its main scheduled speaking events. The Gospel Coalition has amazing reach into the realm of all things “Evangelical.” I know people in attendance at this year’s conference, in fact. It is no secret that I have not been (and continue to not be) a fan of TGC, and I have written about my non-fan-ness numerous times. In fact, if TGC did not have the kind of reach it has, I would simply ignore it. But alas, it does have the reach it has, and so I cannot ignore it; because it is impacting people that I know and love.

gospel-coalition-blog

Why do I dis-like TGC so much? Is it because I dis-like the actual people who constitute its core identity? No! Is it because I don’t want people to spend time together thinking about Jesus and the Scriptures? No! The reason I really cannot endorse TGC is because of the “G” and what goes into defining that for TGC. This is of fundamental importance. Do I then not think that people who are associated with TGC aren’t “saved?” No! Here is what I think about TGC, and the “G” in particular: I believe (and thus dislike) that the “G” which stands for Gospel in the The Gospel Coalition, is given a fundamental shape and trajectory by theological resources that are not adequate, and thus fitting for servicing the Gospel. What I mean is that I believe that the Gospel, as understood and defined by TGC is lack-luster because by way of its theological method (prolegomena) it ends up emphasizing people and performance (i.e. neo-Puritan categories of soteriology) based conceptions of salvation. Meaning that the whole construct that the TGC conception of the Gospel is funded by necessarily places an emphasis on what the Puritans rightly called experimental predestinarianism. This is the logical outcome of holding to the idea that God in Christ Unconditionally Elected particular individual people for salvation, and then God in Christ died only for these elect people on the cross; which is known as Limited Atonement (particular redemption). If this is indeed the case, the mechanism that is in place for discerning whether or not you are one of those Elect individuals for whom Jesus died is that you take the first step of responding to God’s Irresistible Grace, but most importantly that you Persevere in Good Works. The Peservering part leaves salvation and election an open ended proposition, and a highly subjective proposal; and thus it remains an ‘experimental’ project (if in fact this kind of person given to such thinking actually internalizes and owns the implications—as the Puritans did—of their commitments to their ‘kind’ of Calvinist theology). If a person does not evince enough good works, then their election is questionable. The ultimate problem with this, no matter how amplified the implications of this paradigm become for the individual adherent, is that the person is always initially turned and tuned into themselves; and thus Christ remains a ‘reflexive’ concern, and really only the instrument by which salvation may or may not have been accrued for the purportedly elect individual. So salvation then takes on a performance based trajectory, that inimically must start with focus on me, myself, and I before I am really secure enough to be able to look to Jesus (even though ironically I am trying to prove to myself that Jesus is in me, demonstrated and exemplified by the good works and work through me and in me).

The Gospel for The Gospel Coalition does not have the resources available to it to provide a genuinely Christian spirituality, because its underlying theological anthropology is devoid of the Spirit. It is devoid of the Spirit because it fails to methodologically see ALL of humanity grounded in the humanity of Christ for us. Christ’s humanity is given its reality for us by the Spirit’s creative power as He overcame Mary’s womb, and impregnated her with the humanity given shape by the person of the Son of God, Jesus Christ. The Gospel Coalition does not see Jesus’ humanity as the ground of all creation, and in particular, then, it does not see Jesus’ humanity as the ground for all of creation (instead they see it as the ground for certain elect individuals, which it only becomes ‘after’ Jesus has met the requirements of paying the penalty for sin on the cross—which then makes one start thinking of adoptionistic christologies). John Webster fills out what I am getting at with great clarity:

[T]here are startling implications here for the metaphysics of created being. The resurrection of Jesus is determinative of the being of all creaturely reality. Created being is to be defined as τα παντα which the risen Jesus Christ is ‘before’, which is ‘held together’ in him and in which he is ‘pre-eminent’. Determination by the resurrection is not accidental to created being but ontologically definitive. A parallel might be drawn here with the concept of divine ubiquity. God’s omnipresence is not simply one more qualification of creaturely reality but rather its sufficient ground, such that created time and space have their being as and only as that to which God is present. So here, there is no creaturely existence apart from the risen one in whom it is held together. The risen one is the domain within which the creation lives and moves and has its being. Created being and history are thus not that in terms of which the resurrection of Jesus is to be placed, but rather the opposite: he is axiomatically real and true, having his being of himself and of himself bearing witness to himself. The ramifications of this for the project of historical apologetics (namely, that to search for warrants for belief in the resurrection external to the axiomatic reality of the risen Jesus is to misperceive the object of resurrection faith, which is the Son of God himself in his self-bestowing reality as divine subject) cannot be explored here. Rather, what has to be borne in mind is the categorical primacy of the resurrection, which can be transcended neither by history nor by reason. ‘The “resurrection” of Christ,’ Hoskyns noted, ‘appeared to have led [the first Christians] to apprehend final meaning, positive affirmation, all-embracing reason and sense illuminating, and far more than illuminating, not only the course of his life but the circumstances and events of theirs as well, and indeed the universe in which, as God’s creatures, they found themselves placed’. The resurrection is that divine act in which there is manifest the eternal self-existent life of God the Son who is the ground and goal of all things. ‘To be’ is to be caught up by the movement of the risen one who fills all in all, and his resurrection is thus the ‘source and truth of all that exists, that is known, that can belong to us, the reality of all res, of all things, the eternity of time’. Created being in this divine act of transfiguration, being in the miracle to which Paul points with such wonder: ιδου γεγονεν καινα (2 Cor. 5.17). [John Webster, The Domain Of The Word, 36.]

We can see from this, that, as Webster rightly argues, all of humanity’s being is conditioned and grounded by Jesus’ being. The same life that underwrites and sustains the power of resurrection and atonement is inextricably tied into the life (of God) that sustains all of life (not then an abstract conception of an elect group of people/humanity). Webster rightly notes that we cannot think of what Jesus did as an ‘accident’ of salvation history; instead, we must think of atonement/resurrection as the ground of all being, the reality that sustains all of recreated life; both in the present, but as a conditioned present, one that finds its condition from the consummate life we look forward to when our walk becomes one of sight not just faith. In other words, The Gospel Coalition’s conception of salvation, and what Jesus did places Him and that event into history, instead of seeing what Jesus did as definitive of history. The necessary implicate of this (the TGC view), is that Jesus becomes part of history and His atoning work and resurrection become an instrument of the elect’s personal and individual salvation, instead of being seen (as it should be) as definitive and grounding of all of creation through the re-creation (reconciliation cf. Col. 1.17ff) of all things in Christ. 

Whether or not you are able to fully follow what I am getting at is almost beside the point. The point is, is that it is possible to identify a fundamental and damning flaw in The Gospel Coalition’s conception of the Gospel; such that, it calls into question, at least, the claim that what unites those present at TGC’s conference in fact is representative of the actual good news required and declared by Jesus’ life itself (Himself). If the Gospel is not ‘really’ (ontologically) for all, then how can anyone in good faith say this is the Gospel? If the Gospel does not enclose and re-orient all of creation, if the atonement and resurrection are simply subsumed by and thus predicates of natural history, then in what sense is God sovereign over creation, and then in what sense is this kind of gospel good news? (So to be clear here, I am using the same argument that classic Calvinists use by appealing to God’s sovereignty, I am just trying to reductively turn that on its head in such a way that demonstrates how TGC’s conception of the Gospel actually sublates the sovereignty of God by committing His salvation works to creation’s behest, instead of vice versa).

These are the questions that I think need to be addressed, and not pooh-poohed by The Gospel Coalition and all of those in association with it (whether by attending it, or by endorsing the general trajectory of TGC). To  try and relativize my concerns in order to marginalize the issues I have here raised, only will illustrate that this potential interlocutor is not really serious about the truth, and thus the Gospel. In other words, I am not attempting to offer a maximalist critique of TGC’s conception of the Gospel, but a minimalist one;  minimalist in the sense, that with nuance, I am suggesting (arguing) that the theology underwriting the theology of TGC does not ultimately serve the Gospel’s furtherance but distorts it; and for the above reasons.

A Boring Post: Are Evangelical Calvinists more ‘Scholastic’ than the Scholastics of Today?

This post will probably be a little boring for most; but hey, I’m boring (I guess you’ll have to read it to find out).

Jon Hoglund (a PhD student at Wheaton College) recently wrote a review of Richard Muller’s newly released book Calvin and the Reformed Tradition: On the Work of Christ and the Order of Salvation (which now I must read). westminsterassemblyIf you have read me for more than a few years, you will quickly recognize Muller’s name; I have engaged with  him quite frequently in the past—here is the Muller category (from my blog) to prove it, and this post (Let Historians be Historians, & Theologians be Theologians) in particular anticipates the gist of this current post (which illustrates that I have been thinking about this error of Muller and others for awhile). Also in line with all of this; I used to engage with R. Scott Clark (a faculty member at Westminster Theological Seminary california), when he had his blog (before the elders of his church apparently made him take it down—at least that’s what I heard happen). I used to challenge Clark on the grounds that I will be speaking of in this current post; that is, that simply reconstructing the history of the Reformed period (i.e. doing genetic and genealogical work in the area of history of ideas and Reformed theology in particular) does not materially undercut contemporary theologies of retrieval that seek to constructively appropriate various themes, motifs, and foci presented by said period of theological development. 

Getting back to Hoglund’s review of Muller’s book; what really makes it interesting, is that he actually references me and Myk and our book (and the ‘mood’ that Myk and I, and the authors who make up our edited work are advocating for), and Evangelical Calvinism (in a somewhat derisive way (I say this because as you will read there seems to be a negative underlying presupposition behind Hoglund’s rhetoric implying that we haven’t actually engaged Calvin or the Reformed tradition on its own material and even formal grounds), relative, again, to this notion that because Muller has written a work of history that anyone who appeals to Calvin must only appeal to Calvin’s theology through Muller’s authoritative reconstruction of him … i.e. story over, Hoglund and others think). Here is what Hoglund wrote:

The great contribution of this book [Muller’s] is to refocus study of Reformed orthodoxy on the exegesis from which dogmatic formulations sprung. Muller’s use of example expostions [sic] of biblical texts presents a fruitful approach to understanding these early modern theologians. Muller’s reading of the early Reformed presents a direct challenge to contemporary movements like Evangelical Calvinism that appeal to a particular narrative of Calvin and Reformed orthodoxy in order to explain their own position. Anyone who makes claim to the 16th century Reformed traditon [sic] for a doctrine of salvation needs to be familiar with this book.

Myk registered a great comment in response to Hoglund’s review, and critique of us (and also in defense, somewhat, of both Charles Partee and Julie Canlis, who Muller apparently goes after as Calvin scholars who don’t really “get” Calvin [not like Muller & co. do]—both Partee and Canlis are contributors to our book!); and then I followed suit. Myk threw it down in his comment (which was very nice to see!), and challenged Muller & co. the way Muller and family ought to be challenged; that is, if you want actually challenge Evangelical Calvinism, and people who Myk and I would associate with that; then you are going to have to do more than historical work. You see, Myk and I are more concerned with CONSTRUCTIVELY retrieving and engaging with the Reformed voices of the past (inclusive of Calvin, Barth, Torrance, and many others), THEOLOGICALLY. As I noted above, it won’t do to simply do historical work (like Muller, Clark, et al), and then believe that you have undercut or engaged with the material proposals we are putting forward, working from within the Reformed mood as we are.

Ironically, I have just picked up a book I have engaged previously; it is entitled Scholasticism Reformed: Essays in Honor of Willem J. van Asselt (of which Muller and Carl Trueman are contributors—of course!). I was just reading the first chapter this morning written by Martijn Bac and Theo Pleizier, entitled Teaching Reformed Scholasticism In The Contemporary Classroom (exciting stuff, eh). I say ironically, because as they outline how scholasticism should be taught today in theological classrooms, they develop how scholastics of the past retrieved authoritative voices for their own material and theological purposes. They highlight, interestingly, that the scholastic mode of retrieval is very much so like ours (as far as methodology, not conceptually, ultimately) (and not like Mullers, Trueman’s, Clark’s et al). That the concern, more than simply reconstructing the history of ideas and theological development; was to engage the concepts of said voices by appropriating themes and motifs that fit their broader concerns to forward the cause of theological truth. In other words, the greater concern was to organically move within the trajectory and mood set out by the past in order to constructively engage the present and future by developing the ideas of these past voices by placing them within the burgeoning and developing movement of Reformed theology (hey, that’s what we are about “Essays Resourcing the Continuing Reformation of the Church” semper reformanda). Here is what they wrote in regard to the scholastic method, and what was called ‘reverential exposition’:

[R]eformed theologians did not read their sources of Scripture and tradition in a historical sense, i.e., as part of an ongoing tradition, but rather as ‘authorities’ of truth. Until the breakdown of scholasticism and the historical revolution, sources were not quoted in a historical way, be they the Bible, Aristotle, Augustine, or Thomas Aquinas. A quotation did not indicate a correct historical understanding of what its original author had meant, but was read systematically as bearer of truth. From this it follows that contradictions among authorities were solved logically rather than hermeneutically. (p. 39)

I find it highly ironic that people like Muller (Hoglund), and others, would critique Myk, myself, and Evangelical Calvinism (and others who could be so associated) for imbibing the ‘spirit’ of even the post-Reformed orthodox faith (methodologically) more than their apparent heirs (Muller & co.). Although, I would not go as far as to say that we are not sensitive to the importance of getting history right; but we are even more concerned with the ‘truth’ and ideas that were presented by various voices of the past (esp. Calvin’s). If there are themes and motifs present in Calvin (like his union with Christ theology) that are open for further development; then what is wrong with seeking to develop that motif in a way that situates it within a continuing development of this theme from within a Reformed trajectory?

Here is one more example of how these authors, Bac and Pleizier, develop this idea of reverent exposition:

[T]herefore, these texts had to be explained with reverence (exponere reverenter), that is, not in historical conformity with a tradition or with the author’s expressed intention but in conformity with truth, i.e., reverently denoted in correspondence with established theological and philosophical truth. This method of reverent exposition involved a hermeneutical procedure that went back to the patristic period. To be sure, there was room for some exegesis but, as de Rijk has noted, the scholastics used the hermeneutical norm of objective truth (of the debated subjects: veritas rerum) in addition to a kind of philological exegesis employing semantic criteria for interpretation. This resulted in an incorporation of the authoritative text into one’s own conceptual framework. [Scholasticism Reformed, p. 40]

So the scholastic methodology was not about repristinating and absolutizing a period as the norming norm, but it felt the freedom to fluidly engage with the past in a way that had relevance for the present; and in a way that organically built from the trajectory provided for in the past. Or, as Barth would argue (in  his ‘The Theology of the Reformed Confessions’) to operate within the ‘spirit’ of the Reformed faith (subordinate to Scripture and thus always reforming), and not the ‘letter’, which is to appeal to a sort of repristinated procrustean bed of perceived static truth that can simply be inherited but not developed in any kind of new or meaningful way.

In summary, I would simply want to suggest that Evangelical Calvinism is actually imbibing the spirit of the Reformed faith even more so than those who are most visibly associated with the Reformed faith today (Muller & co., and others). And our mode is to primarily engage the past (Calvin and the crew) constructively with the goal of engaging the truth which transcends (but does not elide) the historical situadedness of particular people, simpliciter); but at the same time, doing so in a way that is seeking dialogical engagement with the past in order to provoke the present with themes that most magnify the name of Jesus. If Muller and company want to critique Evangelical Calvinism (and those of like mind), then they will need to be truly scholastic in form, and not just historians.