Book Review: Calvin’s Ladder: A Spiritual Theology Of Ascent And Ascension

*Repost on John Calvin number seven. I have decided to selectively repost some of my John Calvin posts and not all of them. This book by Julie is awesome (and is on my re-read list). By the way, Julie Canlis also offers an excellent chapter in Myk’s and my book; her chapter therein is entitled: Living as God’s Children: Calvin’s Institutes as Primer for Spiritual Formation.

Calvin’s Ladder: A Spiritual Theology Of Ascent And Ascension by Julie Canlis (2010)

ISBN: 978-0-8028-6449-9 (286 pages)

Julie Canlis has offered Calvin studies, in particular, and the Christian Church, in general, a classic before its time (given its relative “newness”). She masterfully seeks to introduce a theme, a doctrinal milieu for Calvin that simply is original; yet not novel. Her book, “Calvin’s Ladder: A Spiritual Theology Of Ascent And Ascension,” depicts a Calvin who has his theology shaped, heavily, by a doctrine of participation and ascent. Her book is organized accordingly: She lays out the logistics of the body of the book in her Introduction, which involves (i) ‘partcipation and Christianity’, (ii) ‘participation as a valid Reformed category’, (iii) ‘participation and Irenaeus’, and (iv) Calvin and Irenaeus (pp. 1-21). She then begins to develop what she highlights in her introduction in Chapter 1, entitled — Ladders of Ascent: A Brief History; the breakdown of the chapter is as follows: (i) ‘Greek itineraries: Plato’s Ladder and Plotinus’s golden circle’, (ii) ‘Christian journeys: Origen, Augustine, Aquinas’, and (iii) ‘Calvin’s paradigm of ascent’ (pp. 25-42). Chapter 2, Creation: The Ground and Grammar of Ascent, is framed by two sections: (i) Eternal mediation of the Word’ and (ii)’The mediator and the garden’ (pp. 53-74). Moving into Chapter 3, Christ: The Ascending One, Canlis unveils the descent and ascent of Christ with the theatre having been set by ‘Creation’ in the previous chapter; this chapter progresses thusly: (i) ‘The bidirectional itinerary of God’, (ii) ‘The descent of Jesus: His earthly humanity’, and (iii) The ascent of Jesus: His continuing humanity (pp. 89-112). Prior to discussing Irenaeus as Calvin’s foil and discussion partner in chapter 5, Julie moves skillfully into Chapter 4, The Spirit: The Eucharistic Ascent where she discusses the centrality and natural place this takes through Calvin’s schema of ‘union with Christ’ and ‘participation’ as a central component of his theology; this chapter discusses: (i) ‘Discipleship’, (ii) ‘Adoption’, and (iii) ‘The eucharistic ascent’ (pp. 123-159). She changes gears as we enter into Chapter 5, The Ascending Vision of Irenaeus; who she has already noted, back in chapter 1, serves as a helpful voice when engaging Calvin’s ‘ascension theology’; since Irenaeus not only represents an ealry corollary and cooridinate voice to Calvin’s in this area, but as we will see in chapter 6 — somewhat of a corrective (by way of complement) to Calvin, in regards to Calvin’s sometimes binary and almost “Platonic” like dualistic language (esp. when it comes to the eucharist, but also relative to his “theological anthropology”). Chapter 5 unfolds: (i) ‘The ascending economy of Adam’, (ii) ‘The ascending economy of Christ’, and (iii) ‘The ascending economy of the Spirit’ (pp. 173-210). Finally (in a good and crescendo kind of way) we come to Chapter 6, Reforming Ascent: Irenaeus, Calvin, and Christian Spirituality; this was well worth the wait, herein, Canlis orchestrates in symphonic tempo the voices of both Calvin and Irenaeus. She presents Calvin as the star of the show, highlighting all of the previous points she had developed throughout the body of the book; but as the co-star, she uses Irenaeus tenor like voice to bring harmony to Calvin’s theology of ascent in ways that are both historically tuned, but more constructively balanced in way that both Calvin and Irenaeus are allowed to shine with their respective strengths and weaknesses given their proper air time. The chapter breaksdown: (i) ‘Backward and forward with descent and ascent’, (ii) ‘Recapitulating ascent in Calvin’, (iii) ‘Participation and its challenges, and (iv) ‘Ascent, Calvin, and contemporary spirituality’ (pp. 229-245). She closes out the work with a dense Bibliography (pp. 253-272) and helpful Index of Names, Subjects, and Calvin’s Works (273-283) — respectively.

General Impressions

Julie Canlis’ book will rock your Calvin and Calvinistic world (if you have one). She offers a Calvin who is Pneumotologically shaped, and who really sounds less like the “Calvinism” that followed him; than ever before. The Calvin presented by Julie certainly fits the ‘Confessional Calvin’ that Charles Partee introduced us to in his (2008) ‘The Theology of John Calvin’ offering. She presses the ‘centrality’ that union with Christ & Participation with Christ played in shaping Calvin’s overall project; and she does this in a way that is not polemic, nor does it overtly engage the pictures of Calvin painted by folks like: Richard Muller, Carl Trueman, and David Steinmetz respectively; all of these scholars have sought to place Calvin in his “context” which does away with notions of Calvin that might portend a ‘centraldogma’. Interestingly, while Julie avoids this rather polemically charged venue of discourse; what she ends up doing is demonstrating that in fact Calvin does have a “core” (or center) that drives his overall theology, viz. his ‘theology of ascent’ (which is simply grounded in his “union with Christ” and “participation” with Christ theology).

Beyond all of this, what I found most refreshing was the koinonial-relational (Trinitarian) shape that Canlis develops relative to Calvin’s theology. She demonstrates, that while certain categories of Platonism (like ascent) were present (linguistically) in Calvin’s theology; that in the end, Calvin out-paces such things precisely because of his commitment to biblical and Trinitarian and Christian concepts that slight the metaphysics provided by Platonism. This is where Irenaeus becomes a very helpful interlocuter to Calvin; Canlis fruitfully notices and develops that one of the points of contact between both Calvin and Irenaeus is their overt and explicit Biblicism. This allows both men to escape the tendencies to slip back into the kind of Platonic metaphysicalism that folks like Osiander fell into in the attempt to talk about Christ’s divinity and humanity.

I would highly recommend this book, I give it 5 out of 5 stars; it will change your life (not an overstatement).

PS. This book is her PhD dissertation which she did under Alan Torrance at the University of St. Andrews (2005). While it is clearly a critical and academic work, the style is both pastoral and even devotional. I think any engaged Christian — layman, pastor, or scholar — will benefit immensely from this book!

Book Review: "Calvin's Ladder: A Spiritual Theology Of Ascent And Ascension

Calvin’s Ladder: A Spiritual Theology Of Ascent And Ascension by Julie Canlis (2010)

ISBN: 978-0-8028-6449-9 (286 pages)

Julie Canlis has offered Calvin studies, in particular, and the Christian Church, in general; a classic before its time (given its relative “newness”). She masterfully seeks to introduce a theme, a doctrinal milieu for Calvin that simply is original; yet not novel. Her book, “Calvin’s Ladder: A Spiritual Theology Of Ascent And Ascension,” depicts a Calvin who has his theology shaped, heavily, by a doctrine of participation and ascent. Her book is organized accordingly: She lays out the logistics of the body of the book in her Introduction, which involves (i) ‘partcipation and Christianity’, (ii) ‘participation as a valid Reformed category’, (iii) ‘participation and Irenaeus’, and (iv) Calvin and Irenaeus (pp. 1-21). She then begins to develop what she highlights in her introduction in Chapter 1, entitled — Ladders of Ascent: A Brief History; the breakdown of the chapter is as follows: (i) ‘Greek itineraries: Plato’s Ladder and Plotinus’s golden circle’, (ii) ‘Christian journeys: Origen, Augustine, Aquinas’, and (iii) ‘Calvin’s paradigm of ascent’ (pp. 25-42). Chapter 2, Creation: The Ground and Grammar of Ascent, is framed by two sections: (i) Eternal mediation of the Word’ and (ii)’The mediator and the garden’ (pp. 53-74). Moving into Chapter 3, Christ: The Ascending One, Canlis unveils the descent and ascent of Christ with the theatre having been set by ‘Creation’ in the previous chapter; this chapter progresses thusly: (i) ‘The bidirectional itinerary of God’, (ii) ‘The descent of Jesus: His earthly humanity’, and (iii) The ascent of Jesus: His continuing humanity (pp. 89-112). Prior to discussing Irenaeus as Calvin’s foil and discussion partner in chapter 5, Julie moves skillfully into Chapter 4, The Spirit: The Eucharistic Ascent where she discusses the centrality and natural place this takes through Calvin’s schema of ‘union with Christ’ and ‘participation’ as a central component of his theology; this chapter discusses: (i) ‘Discipleship’, (ii) ‘Adoption’, and (iii) ‘The eucharistic ascent’ (pp. 123-159). She changes gears as we enter into Chapter 5, The Ascending Vision of Irenaeus; who she has already noted, back in chapter 1, serves as a helpful voice when engaging Calvin’s ‘ascension theology’; since Irenaeus not only represents an ealry corollary and cooridinate voice to Calvin’s in this area, but as we will see in chapter 6 — somewhat of a corrective (by way of complement) to Calvin, in regards to Calvin’s sometimes binary and almost “Platonic” like dualistic language (esp. when it comes to the eucharist, but also relative to his “theological anthropology”). Chapter 5 unfolds: (i) ‘The ascending economy of Adam’, (ii) ‘The ascending economy of Christ’, and (iii) ‘The ascending economy of the Spirit’ (pp. 173-210). Finally (in a good and crescendo kind of way) we come to Chapter 6, Reforming Ascent: Irenaeus, Calvin, and Christian Spirituality; this was well worth the wait, herein, Canlis orchestrates in symphonic tempo the voices of both Calvin and Irenaeus. She presents Calvin as the star of the show, highlighting all of the previous points she had developed throughout the body of the book; but as the co-star, she uses Irenaeus tenor like voice to bring harmony to Calvin’s theology of ascent in ways that are both historically tuned, but more constructively balanced in way that both Calvin and Irenaeus are allowed to shine with their respective strengths and weaknesses given their proper air time. The chapter breaksdown: (i) ‘Backward and forward with descent and ascent’, (ii) ‘Recapitulating ascent in Calvin’, (iii) ‘Participation and its challenges, and (iv) ‘Ascent, Calvin, and contemporary spirituality’ (pp. 229-245). She closes out the work with a dense Bibliography (pp. 253-272) and helpful Index of Names, Subjects, and Calvin’s Works (273-283) — respectively.

General Impressions

Julie Canlis’ book will rock your Calvin and Calvinistic world (if you have one). She offers a Calvin who is Pneumotologically shaped, and who really sounds less like the “Calvinism” that followed him; than ever before. The Calvin presented by Julie certainly fits the ‘Confessional Calvin’ that Charles Partee introduced us to in his (2008) ‘The Theology of John Calvin’ offering. She presses the ‘centrality’ that union with Christ & Participation with Christ played in shaping Calvin’s overall project; and she does this in a way that is not polemic, nor does it overtly engage the pictures of Calvin painted by folks like: Richard Muller, Carl Trueman, and David Steinmetz respectively; all of these scholars have sought to place Calvin in his “context” which does away with notions of Calvin that might portend a ‘centraldogma’. Interestingly, while Julie avoids this rather polemically charged venue of discourse; what she ends up doing is demonstrating that in fact Calvin does have a “core” (or center) that drives his overall theology, viz. his ‘theology of ascent’ (which is simply grounded in his “union with Christ” and “participation” with Christ theology).

Beyond all of this, what I found most refreshing was the koinonial-relational (Trinitarian) shape that Canlis develops relative to Calvin’s theology. She demonstrates, that while certain categories of Platonism (like ascent) were present (linguistically) in Calvin’s theology; that in the end, Calvin out-paces such things precisely because of his commitment to biblical and Trinitarian and Christian concepts that slight the metaphysics provided by Platonism. This is where Irenaeus becomes a very helpful interlocuter to Calvin; Canlis fruitfully notices and develops that one of the points of contact between both Calvin and Irenaeus is their overt and explicit Biblicism. This allows both men to escape the tendencies to slip back into the kind of Platonic metaphysicalism that folks like Osiander fell into in the attempt to talk about Christ’s divinity and humanity.

I would highly recommend this book, I give it 5 out of 5 stars; it will change your life (not an overstatement).

PS. This book is her PhD dissertation which she did under Alan Torrance at the University of St. Andrews (2005). While it is clearly a critical and academic work, the style is both pastoral and even devotional. I think any engaged Christian — layman, pastor, or scholar — will benefit immensely from this book!

'Grace' as Person, not juice and crackers: "Calvin's Ladder"

In the regular understanding of God’s grace and created nature; nature is often construed in ways that it is latent with capacity for a ‘perfecting grace’. The effect of this kind of thinking is to collapse grace (or ‘created grace’) into nature itself; thus absolutizing grace, through nature, in a way that makes it an abstract quality of nature and thus a de-personalized framing of “salvation” accrues when shaped by this kind of lens. In simple terms, grace is collapsed into nature; so that it no longer is grounded in the ‘personal nature’ of our Triune God. Julie Canlis comments on how Calvin’s understanding re-introduces a Trinitarian and ‘personalising’ understanding that is contra-posed with the Tradition (e.g. that ‘collapses’ grace into nature — ‘de-personal’):

. . . If we remember our earlier discussion of Aquinas, his ordering of the Prima, Secunda, and Tertia Partes carried an implication about the inherent capacity of nature for grace, where created forms carried within them a natural yearning for God, a homing device of sorts. Motivated by his desire to take creation seriously as a realm of God’s grace and goodness, Aquinas formed an ontology that led him to invest created forms with “vestiges” of God. Over the years, these forms — the imago, humanity, the soul, the sacraments — became larger than life: instead of pointing people to the God in whom they participated (and upon whom the forms depended for their very essence), they began to segregate people from God. They became substitutes for his presence rather than what mediated is presence. Calvin realized that for all of high scholasticism’s attempts to make grace central, the result was a depersonalized grace, a grace that had no need of the person of Christ. That supreme miracle of God’s freedom and grace, the incarnation, deteriorated into the basis for a claim about nature’s capacity for grace. Not only was God’s freedom and sovereignty curtailed, but reality stopped being an event of communion. Each instance of grace was no longer God freely choosing again and again to give himself to humanity and the created order; rather, this became a “principle” inherent in the order itself. Thus we can see that, for Calvin, God’s freedom and transcendence is a necessary component of his larger relationship to the world characterized by communion. (Julie Canlis, “Calvin’s Ladder,” 69)

Layman’s Interpretation

When grace is made into something that you can physically drink (like grape juice or wine), and something physically eat (like bread); then it becomes something that you and I can shape and manipulate. We can pour more juice or less, we can break the bread into small pieces or bigger. The point being, by implication, grace becomes a thing that we can determine through our own sensibilities. Grace in this scenario is not a someOne, and thus it becomes an ‘it’ that is depersonalised; no longer grounded in the personal Triune God of life and the living.

In short, if we think of grace as something other than ‘who’ comes in Jesus Christ; we will fall prey to views of salvation that starts with us, and grace becomes a “grocery” by which “we” choose to “cooperate” with God, or not. If we operate with this conception of grace, then we will place ‘Law’ before grace; as the instrument through which we are able to cooperate with God (through grace). Worst of all, if we think of grace this way, then Jesus Himself — in the Incarnation — just becomes the ‘Instrument’ of God through whom God is able to procure or purchase salvation through meeting the demands set out by grace.

Okay, so the “layman’s interpretation” didn’t turn out so “layman;” sorry, I’m trying πŸ˜‰ .

"Calvin's Ladder," Ascent and Vicariousness in 'Union'

I just started reading Julie Canlis’ (another contributor to our forthcoming book) new book, Calvin’s Ladder: A Spiritual Theology of Ascent and Ascension; and it starts off in smashing form. She introduces, briefly, the history of ‘ascent’ in folks like Plato and others; and then discusses how this kind of thematic genre is consonant with Pauline themes, that Calvin takes and develops within his own theological trajectory. Notice:

Plato offered one solution: ascent is “natural” to the human soul, a matter of “like being drawn to like.” The powerful engine driving this ascent is Plato’s concept of participation, such that things “participate” in the eternal for their very existence. Housing shards of the eternal, the material sphere has an innate, “natural” longing to return to its original divine home.Β  The Christian must reject this pantheistic description of participation outright. At the same time, however, the Christian story itself is one of ascent. It begins and ends with the revelation of a personal, triune God who calls creation to “return” to communion with him. In the Garden of Eden, humans were called the imago Dei; the Spirit continues this ascending vocation by making those in the church “like God” or “like Christ” (I John 3:2; Rom. 8:29). What, then, is the engine that drives Christian ascent?

Calvin brilliantly synthesized the two movements of ascent and descent into one primary activity: the ongoing story of God himself with us. God has come as man to stand in for us (descent), and yet as man he also leads us back to the Father (ascent). The entire Christian life is an outworking of this ascent — the appropriate response to God’s descent to us — that has already taken place in Christ. Thus, for Calvin, the only appropriate human ascent is a matter of participating in Christ. Calvin’s theology of response, Christ as our response, having made the perfect response to God, vitalizes us to respond in his response. Ascent, then, is neither a matter of the soul’s latent powers nor of conscientious Christian endeavor but of communion: it is a participation in Christ’s own response to the Father, whether that be desire for God, prayer, obedience, vocation, or worship.

This hints at a different way of conceiving the divine-human relationship, such that two distinct beings are brought into a rich relationship in which their identities are not diminished but enhanced. Theological anthropology stands to be enriched precisely here,where Calvin’s insistence or participatio Christi has radical implications for our notions of what it means to be human, what it means to be a “self,” and what it means to be in relationship with God and others. Ascent functions as a concrete entry point into Calvin’s doctrine of participation, enabling us to focus more specifically on the core element of participation that makes the best sense of his theology. (Julie Canlis, “Calvin’s Ladder,” 3-4)

This is the stuff of “Evangelical Calvinism.” You will notice, as Canlis describes Calvin’s theology of ‘ascent’, that there are strong overtones that fit within the contours of T. F. Torrance’s idea of vicariousness. Torrance was, obviously, a student of Calvin’s theology as well; what Canlis describes of Calvin, is something that Torrance took over from Calvin and developed within his own theological constructive work.

But I would simply challenge anyone reading this to contemplate the implications of what Canlis is saying about Calvin; and what impact that has upon your own spirituality and daily walk with Christ! Good stuff . . .

Reading Calvin the Way He Intended: Calvin and the Calvinists, again . . .

The never ending debate of continuity between Calvin and the Calvinists will probably endure until the Lord returns. Bruce Gordon, amongst most ‘Reformed’ scholars, holds to the thesis that in fact there is continuity between Calvin and those who bear his name today; he says:

. . . Calvin’s discursive, humanist style, which he shared with his contemporaries, was replaced by new forms of argumentation that could be used in the schools and academies. The theology itself was not changing, and Calvin’s thought remained crucial to Reformed tradition, but the means by which it was taught reflected new requirements. Moreover, as he had lived, in death Calvin did not stand alone. He was read, studied and interpreted in various contexts all within a wider stream of Reformed thought that included Bullinger, Vermigli and their successors. Just as he had wanted, he belonged to the community of churchmen. (Bruce Gordon, “Calvin,”339).

I think, reading between the lines, Gordon is saying that much of the post-Calvin development was really only a matter of genre; that pedagogy, and historical circumstances — facing “the Calvinists” — required various approaches and appropriations. I am sure this is true. But is it also sound to reduce Calvin’s thought, and the development of his thought to an issue of “style,” and not “material content,” as Gordon does? I am leery on this point.

Beyond this, and what is agreeable with what Gordon asserts, with qualification of course, is that Calvin was read “in various contexts all within a wider stream of Reformed thought.” What Gordon seems to be presuming, given his list of “Calvin’s readers” (i.e. Bullinger, Vermigli, et al.), is that this wider stream is what developed into what we now call “Orthodoxy” (i.e. corollary with the Westminster Divines, et al.). This is where “Evangelical Calvinism” wants to step in and say, “hello, wait a minute, what about the Scots and even some of the English?” Now certainly, if we assume that “Orthodoxy” is “Orthodoxy,” then the “stream of Reformed tradition” is delimited in ways that automatically preclude what we as “Evangelical Calvinists” want to say; and that is that there are readings of Calvin within the ‘Reformed tradition’ that do not fit into the “Orthodox” stream, per se (viz. depending upon what the standard of actual “Orthodoxy” is — is it sola scriptura, or self proclamation?).

Case in point, and on this I will close; Calvin had a very Trinitarian way of reading Union with Christ, it was ‘real’ and ‘ontological’ union — this is what Evangelical Calvinists believe as well. Do the Federal or Orthodox, predominately see it this way (I am generalizing here)? Julie Canlis, a Calvin scholars says:

My suspicion is that Calvin’s scuffle with Osiander is largely to blame for our Reformed emphasis on justification to the exclusion (or downgrading) of adoption as spiritual union. Although Alister McGrath notes, β€œCalvin is actually concerned not so much with justification, as with incorporation into Christ,” it seems as if Reformed theology traded this full-bodied trinitarianism for a narrower (though vital) christocentrism. Out of fear of Osiander’s (and others’) focus on union unaccompanied by an appropriate role for the cross, we have compensated by limiting union to the crossβ€”the method by which we are saved. With this move, however, we are no longer asking the questions that Calvin was asking: we suddenly are left with questions about how we are saved, from what we are saved, and what we should do now that we have received this salvation. They tend to be the questions that quench rather than nourish spiritual formation because they are stunted. Calvin’s questions always centered around God (not ourselves, or even our salvation) and about the glory of Godβ€”questions that are not stunted because they open themselves up to a reality much larger than themselves and do not approach this reality with a (frankly consumerist) howcan- I-get-salvation mentality or a (primarily functional) what-should-I-do-now mentality. Calvin’s questions took their cues from God in his trinitarian fullness and his inexplicable desire to bring us into this fullness. In distancing himself from Osiander, Calvin was not necessarily less radical than Osiander in his vision of union with God, he was just relentlessly trinitarian. Union, when explained as justification or friendship or even fellowship with God, doesn’t quite meet Calvin’s standards. β€œNot only,” Calvin says, β€œdoes Christ cleave to us by an indivisible bond of fellowship (societatis), but, with a wonderful communion (communione), day by day, he grows more and more into one body with us until he becomes completely one with us.” It seems that Calvin himself is arguing for something more than fellowship: β€œnot only fellowship but communion, becoming one with us.” What does this mean? I believe it is Calvin’s desire to push us deeper, through the glory of being reconciled to God by justification, into a life of being spiritually formed by the Trinity itself (himself!). Adoption is Calvin’s answer to both Osiander’s non-trinitarian union and the sometimes-diluted β€œunion” that we in the Reformed tradition have unconsciously embraced. (Julie Canlis, “Calvin’s Institutes: A Primer for Spiritual Formation,” Resurgence [2007])

There is alot in this one quote (Osiander was one of Calvin’s theological opponents, btw); suffice it to say, besides the rich points that Canlis is making (theologically), this illustrates the way that Calvin can and should be read on “Union.” If this is the case, shouldn’t this be one of the salient points that we judge whether or not the “Orthodox Calvinist” has indeed read Calvin the right way? I think it should be. If this was a key of Calvin’s theology, shouldn’t it be a keynote in the “Orthodox” Calvinist’s theology?

I could provide more comment, in fact I want to quote TFT in his book “Scottish Theology,” wherein we see ‘Evangelical Calvinists’ reading “Union” much the same way as Calvin. The point would be, if “Scottish Theology” reads Calvin the way he intended, and “Federal Theology” (Classic Calvinists) do not; wouldn’t this at least suggest that “Evangelical Calvinism” should be included in the discussion of the “wider Reformed tradition?” I think so, thus an impetus for this blog. I wonder what you think . . .