Reformation Historian, Historical Theologian

Category: Reformed Theology

Comments on An Introduction to Christian Theology, chapter 7

For my HT502 class, Fuller Theological Seminary. Click below for the document.

Comments on ICT Chapter 7

This textbook has a very nice cover, which just proves the old adage: Don’t judge a book by its cover. This tome is seriously flawed and outdated. It evidences a lack of understanding of, and sympathy with, the premodern Christian intellectual tradition. It perpetuates a number of myths, including the Hellenization thesis, and the myth that biblical anthropology is monistic. And it is plagued by dubious doctrinal choices. The central problem is that the book is primarily an apologia for Moltmannian theology, including a social trinitarianism (and a subtle undercurrent of panentheism) that functions as a controlling theme throughout the text. A pretty book, but not a good one, in my judgment, particularly when it comes to historical theology. And modern theology. And it certainly is not confessionally Reformed, despite the fact that the authors are all professors at Calvin College, and have signed the Covenant for Officebearers. Did I mention that it has a nice cover?

ict-cover

Getting Calvin Wrong

In an academic book written by leading scholars, one does not expect to find egregious errors. But one finds them nonetheless. I was privileged to attend the 2009 international Calvin conference in Geneva, commemorating the 500th birthday of the Genevan Reformer John Calvin. (Calvin himself was a no-show. Same thing happened when I visited John Knox’s house in Edinburgh in 1989. He wasn’t home).

Anyway, Irena Backus and Philip Benedict edited a collection of the keynote addresses that came out of that conference. Calvin and his Influence, 1509-2009 (Oxford University Press, 2011. Pp. 336+xiii). You can get it for $115 on Amazon.com in hardcover. You might opt for the paperback after you read this. Or for looking at the decent essays in the library. And there are many. Even the introduction is fantastic, except where it is deplorable.

You can read my complete review here. As I was trying to describe Calvin’s doctrine of predestination in 1000 words for Christian History magazine (an impossible task, by the way), I was recently reminded of the following unbelievable comment, made by the editors in the introduction to this volume. It still astounds me:

“While [Calvin] stresses election to salvation but not to damnation in his controversy with Bolsec, he prefers in his Institutes of 1559 to emphasize God’s prescience: God elects to salvation those whom he foresees will be true believers, which implies that he also foresees the others as unbelievers and condemns them. … In the Institutes (3,19-25; 4,18-20), he asserts that God foresees who will believe and elects or condemns as a function of this” (p. 13).


If you have a theological education, you can pause here and catch your breath.

Calvin, first of all, does not teach “election to damnation,” because election by definition refers to God’s choice to save. “Election to damnation” is therefore nonsense, and indicates a lack of familiarity with basic Reformed theology. What the authors have in mind, of course, is reprobation, which is the opposite of election. But they clearly do not understand either election or reprobation, as will be seen below. Moreover, the editors of this volume, who are indeed leading Reformation scholars, project onto Calvin the view of Jacob Arminius and his followers, the Remonstrants, who based election on God’s foreknowledge of a person’s faith. This view does not exist until the early 17th century. Calvin, however, opposed the idea, common in one trajectory of late medieval thought, that God elects those in whom he foresees merit, albeit grace-assisted merit, congruent merits, to be precise. Third, these scholars assume that reprobation is the same thing as condemnation, which demonstrates again that they do not know the first thing about Reformed theology. Their goal is to present a more accurate picture of Calvin and to dispel caricatures, but in fact they are part of the problem.

There is a footnote to the authors’ statement that reads: “OS I: 88-90.” OS refers to the Opera Selecta, a five-volume collection of Calvin’s works considered most important by its editor, Peter Barth (Karl Barth’s younger brother). But this reference does not point to the 1559 Institutes of the Christian Religion; it points to the 1536 first edition of the Institutes and its very brief and rudimentary treatment of predestination, in which Calvin makes no mention of foreknowledge. Calvin’s mature comments on predestination in the 1559 Institutes actually appear in OS IV: 368-432. Setting aside this serious error, it’s safe to say that Calvin never says what these leading Reformation scholars say he does, because he clearly, frequently, and consistently teaches the opposite. So, for example, in his 1559 Institutes, 3.21.5, Calvin writes:

“The predestination by which God adopts some to the hope of life, and adjudges others to eternal death, no man who would be thought pious ventures simply to deny; but it is greatly caviled at, especially by those who make prescience its cause. We, indeed, ascribe both prescience and predestination to God; but we say, that it is absurd to make the latter subordinate to the former.” (Citations from the Beveridge trans.)


Or a bit later, in 3.22.1:

“If election precedes that divine grace by which we are made fit to obtain immortal life, what can God find in us to induce him to elect us?”

 

And further in 3.22.2:


“If you say that he foresaw they would be holy, and therefore elected them, you invert the order of Paul. … In the additional statement that they were elected that they might be holy, the apostle openly refutes the error of those who deduce election from prescience, since he declares that whatever virtue appears in men is the result of election. Then, if a higher cause is asked, Paul answers that God so predestined, and predestined according to the good pleasure of his will. By these words, he overturns all the grounds of election which men imagine to exist in themselves.”

 

And further yet in 3.22.3:


“We have already shown that the additional words, ‘that we might be holy,’ remove every doubt. If you say that he foresaw they would be holy, and therefore elected them, you invert the order of Paul. You may, therefore, safely infer, If he elected us that we might be holy, he did not elect us because he foresaw that we would be holy. …

And how can it be consistently said, that things derived from election are the cause of election? … Assuredly divine grace would not deserve all the praise of election, were not election gratuitous; and it would not be gratuitous did God in electing any individual pay regard to his future works.”

 

And yet again in 3.22.4:

 

“The question considered is the origin and cause of election. The advocates of foreknowledge insist that it is to be found in the virtues and vices of men. For they take the short and easy method of asserting, that God showed in the person of Jacob, that he elects those who are worthy of his grace; and in the person of Esau, that he rejects those whom he foresees to be unworthy.”
Beza young 01

Théodore de Bèze

To add clichéd insult to this injury, the introduction goes on to claim that Theodore Beza’s Tabula Praedestinationis (or, more properly, his Summa Totius Christianismi, 1555) “presented election and reprobation in diagram form as exactly symmetrical in God’s mind, both constituting a part of his eternal decree.”

Nope.

 

Yes, election and reprobation are both part of the eternal decree, but they are not “exactly symmetrical.” The opponents of Calvin and Beza would make that charge, but without grounds. Does this look exactly symmetrical to you?

 

2016-07-01 (2)

 

I didn’t think so.

 

The important non-symmetry between election and reprobation is this: Election is God’s decision to bestow a completely undeserved and unmerited salvation to certain individuals. Reprobation, however, is the divine decision to give sinners exactly what they deserve and merit. Moreover, even if you can’t read Latin, you can see that the lines are not exactly symmetrical. In the matter of calling, for example, God’s call to repent and believe is effective in the elect, but in the reprobate there are two possibilities: some never hear the summons to believe the good news, while others hear but experience a voluntary hardening (induratio spontanea) of their hearts. People are saved because of election and the salvation that ensues because of election, but sinners are not condemned because of they are reprobate. They are condemned because they freely sin and rebel against God. The later Canons of Dordt make this even more clear and explicit than Beza, but the distinction was definitely there in less refined form. (The Canons reject the false charge that the Reformed churches teach “that in the same manner in which election is the source and cause of faith and good works, reprobation is the cause of unbelief and ungodliness.” Conclusion: Rejection of False Accusations).

 

Which just goes to show that academics don’t know everything. Even the best of them. And sometimes they don’t even know the basics of theology. And anyone who presumes to study a theologian (like Calvin) should know the basics of theology.

 

Debating the Descensus

On October 2, 2015, I had a discussion with Western Seminary students, hosted by Prof. Todd Billings, about the phrase in the Apostles’ Creed, traditionally called the descensus. It is the phrase: “He descended into hell.” At the end of the 1990s,

The Harrowing of Hell. Medieval illustration, including Hellmouth. Not the same Hellmouth as featured in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The Harrowing of Hell. Medieval illustration, including Hellmouth. Not the same Hellmouth as featured in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

someone in the Reformed Church of Australia (now the Christian Reformed Churches of Australia) lodged a gravamen (a complaint against a confessional statement) regarding this phrase. The Australian church body considered numerous changes, but wisely submitted the matter to other Reformed churches for review and input. The CRCNA formed a study committee, which gave its final report at the 2000 Synod. The report, which was largely authored by my PhD mentor Richard A. Muller, is an excellent example of solid historical, theological, exegetical, and ecclesiastical analysis. You can read the report here: Descensus report Agenda 2000.

The arguments for deleting or altering the phrase are astounding. They presume that “hell” only means the place or state of eternal punishment. In modern usage, that meaning is dominant. However, its usage in the creed can mean either the place or state of punishment (gehenna) or, more commonly, the rather more neutral realm of the dead (hades, or in Hebrew thought, sheol).

Others state rather confidently that when Christ utters “It is finished,” the work of redemption is complete and therefore there is no more to do. This is clearly false. The work of redemption is absolutely not finished (at least) until the resurrection of Jesus. His resurrection is his victory over death. Moreover, the intercession of Christ still continues, as the book of Hebrews makes clear, and the final judgment, where those in Christ will be declared not guilty, is still to come. And redemption applied is the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit. So one must be rather cautious about what “It is finished” means. Clearly it has to be limited to Christ’s suffering on the cross.

The original complaint to the Reformed Churches in Australia was apparently operating on the assumption that Jesus physically went to hell. That would be a new doctrine never heard of in the church, since the church has always confessed that Jesus’ physical body remained in the tomb.

Some who are considered evangelical leaders reject the descent into hell phrase in the creed, apparently unaware that by doing so they separate themselves from orthodox, universal Christian faith. John Piper, who considers himself Reformed, rejects the doctrine without much analysis. This is ironic, since no Reformed church would recognize as Reformed anyone who rejects an article of an ecumenical creed. He also refers to himself as a “Calvinist,” but Calvin would not recognize as a kindred spirit anyone who rejected this or any other article of the creed (let alone anyone who rejected infant baptism, as Piper does). Piper seems unconcerned that he separated himself from the universal church when he omits that article of the ecumenical creed; creeds are not a smorgasbord where one takes what one likes and leaves the rest. Wayne Grudem (whose theological positions are similar to Piper’s) also rejects the doctrine, also on mistaken grounds. Both put themselves perilously near the fringe of orthodox Christian faith by doing so. Neither seem to understand this. I suspect this has something to do with an overly rigid sense of sola scriptura, and a lack of understanding of how the Reformers honored universal Christian tradition as embodied in the creeds, as well as how they found more than adequate biblical grounds for the descensus. They also seem to care little about the effect such a selective recitation of the creed would have upon ecumenical relations.

Reading the 2000 report will save anyone who wants to study this issue from a multitude of theological sins.

Blog Reboot; And, The CRC and Science

I originally created this blog to chronicle my sabbatical during the summer of 2009. I am now rebooting it for occasional musings for the First Cutlerville CRC community and anyone else who might be interested. Like a question that I just received from a member (I will always keep your information private); but this is a general question that other members may be interested in as well.

The enquirer reports that some of his friends think that the Christian Reformed Church is either apathetic or antagonistic when it comes to reconciling science and the Christian faith. To which I reply, “Say what?!” The CRC has been a leader in tackling these issues, though there is considerable diversity of opinion among CRC members, and we have also seen significant controversy in the CRC over issues of how the Bible and science are related. Faculty members of Calvin College have often been at the forefront of investigating this relationship, and also, not surprisingly perhaps, at the forefront of the controversy as well. The CRC position on Creation and Science is summarized as follows:

All of life, including scientific endeavor, must be lived in obedience to God and in subjection to his Word. Therefore we encourage Christian scholarship that integrates faith and learning. The church does not impose an authorized interpretation of specific passages in Scripture; nor does it canonize certain scientific hypotheses. Instead, it insists that all theological interpretations and all scientific theories be subject to Scripture and the confessions. Humanity is created in the image of God; all theorizing that minimizes this fact and all theories of evolution that deny the creative activity of God are rejected.

In the 1980’s, a number of professors of the science department began investigating this relationship and published a number of books, which were met with a mixed reception. Astronomy Professor Howard J. Van Till published his book The Fourth Day in 1986 to considerable controversy, not least of all for an unfortunate analogy whereby he compared the Bible to a granola bar: one takes off the wrapper (which corresponds to the Biblical form and genre) and throws it away, and consumes the nourishing content, whatever that content may be. Thus the literary form of the early chapters of Genesis could be dispensed with in favor of the theological content.

The problem is that one cannot so easily separate form and content; the content is determined by and communicated through the form. The book was condemned by many who held to a young earth, literal six-day creation perspective as nothing but godless liberalism. It was embraced by many others as a shining example of Reformed engagement with the sciences. Others welcomed the idea of engaging the issue with rigorous thought, but were less satisfied with Van Till’s method and result. This was my assessment, and that of my seminary professors at the time. When I studied this book in the late 1980’s, I found that it was strong on astronomy (as far as I could tell) and exceptionally weak on theology, Biblical studies, and Biblical hermeneutics (the theory of interpretation). During those years I sometimes got the impression from a few scientists that, while one obviously needs a PhD to be an astronomer or physicist, any amateur can be a theologian. And today some scientists still presume to be able to dictate what is or is not possible theologically on the basis of the present state of scientific knowledge. The former Prof. Van Till, it seems, has moved beyond orthodox Christianity and appears to have embraced some kind of pantheism and/or deism. There is probably a lesson somewhere in that fact, though people will draw different conclusions as to what it means.

Another thing that is quite unhelpful is a lack of sensitivity among some Christian scientists in the manner that they raise these issues. I have encountered a few professors over the years who seemed to take an unholy pleasure in demolishing the childlike faith of their students under the guise of educating them. One, in Alberta, wrote of children’s education about the Bible and science: “The ark should float in Grade 1, and by the time students leave Grade 12 to meet me at university, someone has to have sunk the ark for them!” What he fails to notice is that this kind of cavalier approach might make a shipwreck of a young person’s faith. A similar lack of sensitivity was likely a factor in the latest outbreak of controversy at Calvin College a few years ago, when two professors, this time from the Religion department, suggested that science proves that there is no Adam or Eve. This resulted in the departure of one of the professors from the Calvin faculty. These are extremely sensitive and momentous issues, and one should employ maximal caution and humility in the claims one makes.

Without creating an ideological straitjacket, we also have to navigate what it means to have a confessional college that affirms the Reformed standards of unity. Our college is not a secular university; its constituency and its stakeholders are (at least to a large extent) the church. On the other hand, I largely appreciate the efforts of many scientists in the Reformed tradition who seek to integrate the faith into their discipline in a responsible and sensitive way. I very much appreciated the book Delight in Creation: Scientists Share Their Work With The Church, put out by the Center for Excellence in Preaching at Calvin Theological Seminary, part of a project they call The Ministry Theorem. I do not necessarily endorse everything in the book or on that site; but I endorse the project of keeping the conversation alive between scientists, on the one hand, and theologians and pastors on the other.

If the CRC has erred, it is not in being disengaged or hostile toward science. It would be in the opposite direction, of sometimes equating the results of science with general revelation–a serious mistake that elevates scientific findings and theories virtually to the level Holy Writ. (On this point, see the incisive critique of the 1991 synodical report on creation and science by Nicolaas Gootjes, “General Revelation and Science: Reflections on a Remark in Report 28,” Calvin Theological Journal 30 [1995]: 94-107). Our Kuyperian heritage, with all its robust intellectual richness and curiosity, has at times led us to be triumphalist about our endeavors, and to forget the noetic limits that result both from our creaturely finitude and human sin.

Thus one must be exceptionally cautious about pronouncing on the impossibility of an original human couple, or declaring doctrines such as original sin to be outmoded by recent science, as a retired CRC pastor recently claimed in The Banner. Unfortunately, this caution and humility seems to be lacking lately. At the same time, we in the CRC do have members who understand little about science and who do seem to be antagonistic toward science, often because of a certain political agenda. Thus we see members  dogmatically deny the possibility that the millions of tons of fossil fuels we burn every day could have an effect on the climate, and instead desperately cling to those on the fringes of the scientific community who deny this effect. More humility all around would help.

Answers in Genesis

Answers in Genesis mocks other views of the relationship of creation and science as un-Christian.

This does not mean that I am sympathetic to the so-called “Creation Science” phenomenon, which is really a kind of fringe conspiracy theory that denies the validity of mainstream science, claims human beings frolicked with dinosaurs, and tries to understand sedimentary rock formations with appeals to the biblical Flood; I am not. I think that movement (represented by organizations such as the Creation Research Institute and Answers in Genesis) represents a fatally flawed, and peculiarly North American, form of fundamentalism that is a rather different animal than Reformed orthodoxy. I would guess that the majority of CRC pastors and scientists would judge that it represents neither sound theology nor sound science. Whatever reservations I may have had with The Fourth Day, I  was completely on board with the critiques by Calvin College science professors of the “Creation Science” perspective, which tends to label all differing views as apostate, and not authentically Christian, and engages in attacks and mischaracterizations of opposing views that are uncivil and intellectually dishonest (as in the comic to the right, which clearly implies that those who do not hold to a young earth creationist view do not believe the Bible). Let me be perfectly clear: this viewpoint does not represent the Reformed faith. It does not do justice to God’s Word in Scripture, because it fails to interpret it on its own terms and with appropriate attention to biblical genre, among other things. And, ultimately, it makes God out to be a liar. It undermines the veracity of God (i.e. God’s truthfulness) with such claims that God created the earth and the universe with the appearance of billions of years of age, when in fact the earth and the universe, they claim, is only six thousand years old. But why would God create an earth that appears to be that old, an antique reproduction rather than a genuine antique, so to speak? These claims are completely incoherent; they are not supported by the vast majority of scientists who are also Christians, and they have serious negative ramifications for the Christian doctrines of God and Scripture.

Leading Reformed theologians of a century ago, such as J. Gresham Machen and B. B. Warfield, did not hold these views. In fact, John Calvin himself, in his biblical commentaries, warned against reading the Bible as if it were an astronomy textbook. In his day, astronomers had discovered that some heavenly bodies such as planets were actually larger than the moon; yet the Bible describes the moon as the greater light and the stars as the lesser lights. Calvin does not smugly deny the findings of the astronomers and arrogantly declare, “Well, I believe the Bible.” Note his comments on these passages:

Calvin on Genesis 1:6 (the creation of the sky or firmament):
“For, to my mind, this is a certain principle, that nothing is here treated of but the visible form of the world. [i.e. how the world looks to us, from our perspective]. He who would learn astronomy, and other difficult arts, let him go elsewhere.”

Calvin on Genesis 1:16 (on the greater and lesser lights, i.e. moon, planets, stars):
“Moses wrote things in a popular style which all ordinary persons who have common sense are able to understand without additional instruction; but astronomers investigate with great labor whatever the wisdom of the human mind can comprehend. Nevertheless, this study is not to be rejected, nor this science to be condemned, because some frantic persons tend to boldly reject whatever is unknown to them.”

Calvin on Psalm 136:7 (He who made the great lights, his love endures forever):
“The Holy Spirit had no intention to teach astronomy; and, in presenting instruction meant to be shared by the simplest and most uneducated persons, he had Moses and the other Prophets use popular language…”

In other words, Calvin says, the Bible describes things as we experience them on earth, and its purpose is not to give us scientific information about the universe.

Tim Keller, the solidly Reformed pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City, has written a paper entitled: Creation, Evolution, and Christian Laypeople. It is well worth reading on this subject. And it is particularly relevant to the latest controversies regarding the historicity of Adam and Eve. Keller (as well as other scholars such as NT Wright) rightly warn against mythologizing everything the Bible says about the origins of humanity. His conclusion (which also represents the mainstream of the CRC) is sober and balanced: “Christians who are seeking to correlate Scripture and science must be a ‘bigger tent’ than either the anti-scientific religionists or the anti-religious scientists.”

Sensory Sacraments

I’m preaching on Ephesians 4:1-16 on Sunday, and we are celebrating both sacraments, baptism and the Lord’s Supper. We’ve been discussing the sacraments quite a bit lately in our CrossTraining services, particularly the issue of admitting baptized children to the Lord’s Table; and on Sunday we will discuss in greater depth the role of Profession of Faith, and some of the challenges we as a church face in terms of young adults who are less enthusiastic about taking that step. While I was doing research for my lesson and sermon, I ran across a book by William Willimon, an author whose writings have been invaluable to me in my preaching and teaching. It’s called A Guide to Preaching and Leading Worship, and it turned up on Google Books, which generously showed me some very interesting pages about how the sacraments connect to our senses, and by doing so, connect heaven and earth, the new creation with the old, the “sacred” and the “mundane.” Publishers shouldn’t complain too much about Google Books, because after reading these few pages, I immediately ordered the book.

Here are some excerpts from pages 40-43:

“Sacraments…are everyday objects, like bread and water, and everyday actions, like eating and bathing, that when done among God’s people in worship convey both God’s love for them and their love for God. God uses everyday things we can understand—bread, wine, water—to show us a love that defies understanding.”

Willimon talks about baptism as a communal activity. There is no such thing as private baptism, nor could there be. Willimon says, “Baptism is a sign that Christianity is not a home correspondence course in salvation; it is a sign of a social, ecclesial, familial, gracious, communal way of life.”

“What do these sacraments mean? The Lord’s Supper means everything that any meal means: love, fellowship, hunger, nourishment. These meanings are given added significance because, in this meal, we commune with the risen Christ, who joins us at the Table. People may not know what redemption, atonement, reconciliation, sanctification, and all our other big words mean—but everybody, from the youngest to the oldest, knows what a meal means. …

“Baptism means everything that water means: cleansing, birth, power, refreshment, life, death. These natural, everyday meanings of water are given added power because the water is administered ‘in the name of Jesus.’ When we baptize, the congregation ought to see, hear, and feel water. Once again, some people may not know what justification, redemption, and prevenient grace mean—but everybody knows what it means to be thirsty, to be born, to drown, or to be dirty.

“…When we worship through wine, water, and bread, when we point to human events like a meal or a bath, we are linking our faith with daily life, spirit with flesh, the heavenly with the mundane. …Therefore we do a great injustice to the sacraments when we transform them into some ethereal, detached, ‘spiritual,’ exercise that has no support in everyday experience. Specifically when we celebrate these rites, we must use wine that tastes like wine and bread that looks and tastes like the bread we had for breakfast this morning. When we baptize, we must use water in sufficient amounts so that everyone sees, hears, and feels the experience of water.” 

I hope this Sunday we see and hear and smell and taste and feel the grace of God in Jesus Christ.

On Religion, to its Uncultured Pomo Despisers

Some people are wondering why I wrote that article in the January 2k10 issue of The Banner. Well, I wrote it because they asked me to write something, and they didn’t tell me what to write, which is a pain, because then I have to think of something.

So what I came up with was a defense and exposition of the term “religion.” Why? Because religious people who think they’re not religious say silly things about not being religious. And not only in popular stuff like The Shack, or in too-hip-for-my-haircut Emergent communities, but even among learned and respected persons. The one I have in mind is one of my favorite authors and pastors, Tim Keller. Love the guy. Wish I could have gone to his church when Sandy and I were in Manhattan. Love his book/DVD The Prodigal God, and used it for a teaching series in our church. Love his The Reason for God, and his YouTube defense of the Christian faith to the employees of Google. Love his new books that have come out that I haven’t read yet.

But he said something surprising on his website promoting The Prodigal God. And I quote:

“Religion operates on the principle: I obey, therefore I’m accepted. But the gospel operates on the principle: I’m accepted through what Jesus Christ has done, therefore I obey. So religion isn’t just a little bit different than the gospel; they are diametrically opposed. And unless you actually invite people into the gospel, in distinction from religion, if you just call them to give their lives to Christ in some general way, they’ll think you’re calling them into being a good person; they’ll think you’re calling them into being an elder brother. So you have to always distinguish the gospel from religion and irreligion and as you preach, because our churches are filled with elder brothers, and they don’t know they are. All they know is God isn’t very real to them, and their faith is a kind of a drudgery to them, and unless you preach to them the difference between religion and the gospel, they aren’t going to get renewed by the Holy Spirit; they’re not going to find the gospel beginning to transform their lives. One of the best ways to do that is by preaching the parable of the prodigal son. This parable will help us live out the implications of what it means to be gospel-transformed people. Not elder brothers, not younger brothers, but people living as images of our true elder brother, Jesus Christ.”
http://www.theprodigalgod.com/video.html accessed September 10, 2009, under the “Message for Pastors” link.

Surely, Tim knows better than that, since he must be pretty well acquainted with John Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion, and the concepts therein like the semen religionis and the sensus divinitatis. But I presume he uses this language for strategic purposes. I just don’t think it was a good strategic choice, because it’s not entirely honest, and it creates problems when one tries to explain Paul’s arguments in Romans 1 about how all people are religious, and his own evangelistic strategy in Acts 17:16ff., and the fact that religion pertains to the fact that humanity is created to relate to its Creator. I just wish he had specified that what he’s talking about is “works-centered religion”or “human-centered religion,” otherwise the statement can sound potentially shallow or misleading.

That’s why I love it that there’s a Facebook group called “I am religious but not spiritual.” And yes, I’m a fan.

Calvin and His Influence, Geneva

The international Calvin Conference in this anniversary year is the probably the biggest academic event I will attend in my lifetime.

I had the opportunity to meet Calvin scholars from France and Swtizerland whom I had known only by their academic writings. Like Olivier Millet, who specializes in Calvin’s rhetoric (how he uses language), Irena Backus from the University of Geneva, and Marilynne Robinson, author of Gilead and Calvin afficionado. Meeting Marilynne was a distinct pleasure. She gave a talk on Calvinism’s influence on New England literary scions, and she also hear my paper and made insightful comments.

And I saw old friends and colleagues again, persons who I see once in a few years, or in a decade. And there were books to buy. I restrained myself. Mostly.

Being in Geneva was a great experience, walking the streets where Calvin walked, though it seems he rarely left his room. We heard a talk entitled “Calvin the Workaholic” that described his grueling, even self-destructive daily routine, which included only one meal a day, working in bed before rising, etc. It was particularly interesting to see the cathedral St. Pierre, the largest church in Geneva, where Calvin frequently preached. There was his pulpit, from which he proclaimed the Word of God in a way that had not been done for centuries in the Christian churches, and with a perspective that had never been heard before in any church, since Calvin was at the vanguard of a new movement of reforming the church, bringing it back to the teachings of Scripture as mediated through the best of the early church fathers, as Calvin assessed them, and especially St. Augustine. Beside the pulpit stood his chair, in which he would have rested his frail and sickly body before the hour-long sermon. Nearby was the Museum of the Reformation, with all kinds of interesting artifacts from the life of Calvin and the Reformation, including books by the Reformers, portraits, Calvin’s cup, letters written in Calvin’s own handwriting, a doodling sketch of Calvin by a student—probably the only portrait of the reformer that was made “live,” that is, with Calvin actually present to the “artist.” There were interactive stations that attempted to convey a day in the life of Calvin: working before rising, going to consistory and rebuking a woman for dancing, burning Servetus—normal routine pastor stuff. Of course, Calvin didn’t personally burn Servetus, but he bore a lot of responsibility for the heretic’s execution, and suffered a great deal of personal anxiety and lasting damage to his reputation as a result. My friend Joy Kleinstuber, who specialized in that topic, gave a paper describing Calvin’s involvement in this notorious event. Comparing the trial records of Servetus with Calvin’s published defense of his actions in the Servetus case, she concludes that Calvin was not honest in his presentation of the facts. It’s disappointing to hear that, especially given the topic of my paper, on Calvin’s insistence that one must always tell the truth.

My hotel was near the Madeleine Church, where Calvin also preached at times, between streets named Hell and Purgatory! There are all kinds of special exhibits and events right now in Geneva to commemorate Calvin’s work there and the Reformation, but little real understanding or embracing of what he was really about. There seems to be a feeling that Calvin was somehow all about freedom or something vague like that. There is a Calvinus beer that is served around the city, though it is sweet and Belgian-like, which doesn’t really reflect its namesake. A beer named after Calvin should be bold, robust, with a bit of bite to it, and a lingering aftertaste.

Aside from these historical references, the city displays precious little remaining Calvinist influence. But I was only there for a few days, so that’s just an impression that I have. There is plenty of wealth in Geneva: expensive jewelry stores, Rolex watches, Montblanc pens, fashions by Louis Vuitton and Lacoste; I saw numerous exotic automobiles: Rolls-Royce, Maserati, Ferrari, Lamborghini. Who needs God when you’re living in the lap of luxury and prosperity?

My session went well, and my paper was improved by listening to and interacting with other speakers. I appreciated Marilynne Robinson’s presence and her comments. My paper, which was on Calvin’s views on lying (he says you can never lie under any circumstances, even to save a life or to thwart murderous persecutors), ended with a reference to Dutch Reformed believers who did not follow Calvin’s advice, and who instead lied to save Jews and help Dutch men escape from Nazi work camps or the Wehrmacht. She pointed out that whether or not they followed Calvin on this point or not, it was still their Calvinistic spiritual formation that motivated them to do the right thing, even in the face of consequences that could include imprisonment and even death.

Post tenebras lux, “After shadows, light,” is the motto of Geneva, referring to the protestant reformation, which the city embraced in 1536. Now the light that shines there is the gleam of capitalism, the shine of diamonds, the glitter of gold, the sheen of luxury. But for those who want to see evidences of that former light, they are there. The Library of Geneva had a great exhibition called “Post Tenebras…Liber,” after darkness…a book. There I saw all of Calvin’s books printed in his lifetime, many more portraits, including a very famous one of Calvin himself, and artifacts from Jean-Jacques Rousseau. I also wandered around to the site of the original Calvin College, which is undergoing renovations, but is apparently still used as a facility for the University of Geneva, founded by Calvin in 1559, and this year celebrating its 450th anniversary.

This part of Switzerland, which I have never before visited, is quite beautiful, both in terms of landscape (the Alps, especially) and the architecture. After three days I was just beginning to get familiar with the city, and which bus to take from the old city, where my hotel was, and the conference center (Bus #5), and now I’m off again, this time, to Germany, to visit an academic friends who studies Philip Melanchthon, Martin Luther’s right-hand man, and a dialogue-partner with Calvin. I’m just hoping I can figure out all the train connections, after twenty years of not speaking German, and 44 years of not speaking French. Whoa! I just passed a medieval castle on the way to Basel, Switzerland. Cool. The train glides by fields of wheat, and other crops I can’t identify, because they’re European and metric. I do see vineyards. Lots of them. Another castle, a wee one, a little citadel. A massive river to my right. This is the land of history and fairy tales. And cheese. I forgot to mention the cheese.

In the Thick of It

This first week of my sabbatical I have been up and down like a roller coaster, trying to get back into the rhythms of being a scholar. It has been a while (like a decade) and things have changed…older books available online, the ability to scan microfilm and microfiche into computer-readable pdf files. The paper is expected (by the Academics in Geneva) to be done on Wednesday and a copy sent to the chair of my session. This gives me a bit of anxiety, and I have had a number of days in the Library (in the H.H. Meeter Center for Calvin Studies) during which I read a lot, but wrote not a word. Today was one of those days.

As of tomorrow (Friday, May 8 ) I will have an office in the Meeter Center that will help somewhat.

Martin Bucer

Martin Bucer (1491-1551)

But last night I had an epiphany; things started coming together; an outline formed in my head, and now I should be able to start making progress. I have a new introduction, which opens up the topic with a the story of how one of the leading Protestant princes in Germany, Landgrave Philip of Hesse–a man on whom many Reformers pinned their hopes–threw a wrench into things by getting married. That’s isn’t so bad, except when you’re already married. He took on a second wife. Because Reformers like Martin Luther, Philip Melanchthon, and especially the leader of the Reformation in Strassburg, Martin Bucer, had pinned their hopes on this guy, it presented them with a real problem. Luther said, basically, “Lie. Tell a boldface lie. A whopper.” Bucer, however, advised the prince to tell a “holy lie,” like the kind of fibs Abraham and Rahab told. Calvin would have never given the prince this kind of advice. Calvin was not in the Landgrave’s inner circle (Calvin was, after all, French, not that he had any say in the matter), but if he had been, he never would have counseled any kind of lie, deception, or cover-up. He would have demanded that the Landgrave admit that his second marriage was null and void, give up his seventeen year old second bride, and remain contented with his first and legitimate wife.

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