The Priests' Manual

Leviticus is often very boring, at times horrifying, and at certain rare moments satisfying. And that's no wonder: it's an ancient document about government. After the story of the Exodus, in which God leads the nation of Israel out of Egypt, declares them his people, and makes a covenant with them to be their king, a question remains: what is God's administration going to be like? There's no separation of church and state here; the priests are the ones who provide access to God, the king of Israel.

Caveat: Moses is not himself a priest, yet he is higher than all of them. The refrain of Leviticus is, "The Lord spoke to Moses, saying..." Although the priests are to minister more directly to God than the common people, there is yet a buffer even between the priests and God. The holiness of God is probably the key issue throughout all of Leviticus. Thus the writer is concerned with demonstrating how nothing tainted can come near him without following strict guidelines, not even the most holy of all the people of Israel.

True Grit and the grace of God

I highly recommend seeing the Coen brothers' new film, True Grit. Then, after watching it, I highly recommend this review of it in the New York Times. I especially enjoyed this summary paragraph:

The new “True Grit” is that rare thing — a truly religious movie. In the John Wayne version religiosity is just an occasional flourish not to be taken seriously. In this movie it is everything, not despite but because of its refusal to resolve or soften the dilemmas the narrative delivers up.

Hayek's theology

In The Fatal Conceit, Hayek quotes the Bible probably more times than in any of his other works I've read (and really, to even have one quote is more than usual for him). Of course, I should say right off the bat that many of these quotes are meant to be compared against the view he is propounding. For instance, he quotes 1 Timothy 6:10 ("the love of money is the root of all evil") on the way to countering such fears of money. Many times I had to wonder what his motivation was. In his polemic to construe socialism as a new sort of animism, i.e. a return to primitive religion, was he quoting scripture as an affront on socialists, who would have taken this association as an attack on their reason?

Divine Justice, Human Tyranny

The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it; but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. John 3:8

Is God sovereign over history, or not? Is he sovereign over nature, or not?

It is common for people to cite the horrific events of history as reason either to doubt God's goodness or to doubt his sovereignty, with the result either way that we doubt his existence. It is now also fashionable these days to cite the very mechanism by which human beings came into existence--biological evolution--as evidence that God doesn't exist.

Christians, in response, are prone to answering with theological excuses connecting the fall of Adam with the taint of nature. I won't argue the biblical merits of these excuses one way or another. What I'm interested in is the underlying principle behind such arguments. The complaint is that God doesn't share a basic sense of justice with humans; the defense is that, "Well, yes he does, it's just hard to see it at first."

I question whether this is the proper response to such complaints. Not only does it undermine God's power, but it feeds the human presumption that his own sense of justice is necessarily correct. Yet the same experiences which cause us to question God's justice should perhaps more often cause us to question our own.

Calvin on Civil Government

At last, a conclusion to Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion. It's been ten months in finishing, but it has certainly given me an education in Reformation doctrine from the 16th century. If nothing else, reading this enormous work has forced me to listen to the voice of the past, and it has challenged me to rethink my modern assumptions about the way things are.

Nothing could more perfectly illustrate this point than the last chapter of Calvin's work, "Civil Government." It is, of course, appropriate to be talking about this right after an election. However, what I found as I read this chapter was that every other part of Calvin felt more or less familiar except for this part. Based on this experience, it seems to me that modern Christians have kept alive every controversial theological issue except those related to the social order. For if we stop and ponder for a second, I think we will have to agree that without too much trouble we can find in America today Christians with every possible opinion on predestination or infant baptism, and yet you will be hard pressed to find a single American Christian who does not accept liberal democracy as the best form of government. I have my own suspicions about why this is, but I ought to save that for another time. Let's see what Calvin has to say.

Happy Reformation Day!

Happy Reformation Day! I finished my reading of Calvin's Institutes, but election day is only two days away, so I decided to write some thoughts on economics instead of blogging on Calvin. I'll have some thoughts on him later in the week. Until then, here's my favorite Reformation Day video!

Calvin on the Mass, and those other five Sacraments

Lots of Calvin lately. I guess it's like being at the end of a long race. You see the end in sight, so you kick it into gear. There's no reason in particular why I should be reading at a faster pace, except that I did enjoy Calvin on the sacraments, and because I figure, hey, why not finish this whole book before November?

So that brings me to Institutes of the Christian Religion Chapters XVIII and XIX. Some of the most fiery rhetoric in the entire work is in these chapters, which says something about how Calvin views the sacraments.

Calvin on the Sacraments

With the help of two reading days this week, which I actually managed to spend reading, I have made a ton of progress on the Institutes. It also doesn't hurt that what I've been reading on the sacraments has been some of the most fascinating material in all of Calvin's work. Truly, there are some rather astonishing passages in these chapters that one could not expect from Calvin if one were judging only on the popular perception of him. From general cultural impressions I seem to have this latent image of Calvin as something of a machine, coldly calculating the true doctrines of Christianity, without regard for feeling or mystery. These chapters on the sacraments, more than any others in the Institutes, completely obliterate this image of Calvin. Instead, we find a picture of Calvin as overcome with the mysteries of God, and wholly inclined toward a direct personal experience of Christ. It is nothing short of a tragedy that this image has been lost in popular Christian consciousness.

Calvin on the Papacy, Part 2

In my last post on Calvin's Institutes, I focused on Calvin's severe critique of the Roman Catholic Church. Here, in discussing Book IV, Chapters IX - XIII, I will focus more on the constructive side of Calvin's criticism. If Calvin so detested the papacy, what was he ready to replace it with? What reasons did he have to support his view?

Calvin on the Papacy

Oh, man, it's time to lay the smack down.

That's right, today's blog entry from my reading of Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion comes after having read chapters IV - VIII in Book IV. Basically all of these chapters (and a few chapters after these) unify around one central theme: the corruption of the papacy.

The whole work up until now has been pretty sharp in its criticism of numerous theological beliefs and religious practices (not all of which come from the Roman Catholics). Yet this part of the Institutes is by far the most polemical. Why don't we just review some of the chapter titles?

• Chapter V: The Ancient Form of Government Was Completely Overthrown by the Tyranny of the Papacy
• Chapter VII: The Origin and Growth of the Roman Papacy Until It Raised Itself to Such a Height that the Freedom of the Church Was Oppressed, and All Restraint Overthrown
• Chapter VIII: The Power of the Church with Respect to Articles of Faith; and How in the Papacy, with Unbridled License, the Church Has Been Led to Corrupt All Purity of Doctrine

I think it should be pretty easy to get Calvin's central point.

How have I been confronting this, as a modern reader? Generally speaking, the way Calvin deals with theological controversy has made me uncomfortable. It's hard in my context to think in such black and white terms about the "papists."

And yet, this section of the book has honestly been profoundly eye-opening. It's quite astonishing to read someone with first-hand experience of that time talk about the corruption of the papacy. Chapter V, in particular, reviews some unbelievably corrupt practices in the church: lawsuits over pastoral ordination, "beneficed" and hired priests, bishops who did nothing for their parishes but collected money from them, priests engaged in all kinds of immoral behavior--my favorite part was about children being appointed as bishops! For all the theological points that the Reformers were eager to make, I wonder if anything close to the Reformation would have ever occurred had it not been for the sheer corruption of the church at that time?

It sounds as if even most Catholics of our day will admit that what was going on back then was an abomination, so perhaps this is nothing new. But I did learn a lot more than this. Calvin develops a pretty deep historical argument in defense of a Reformed view of church government, as well as an impressive amount of historical evidence that originally the bishop of Rome had nothing like his current place in the Roman Catholic Church. I have heard a lot of Catholic and even Eastern Orthodox apologists talk as if Protestants think the church was just corrupt from the time of Constantine until finally the Reformation came along. That's certainly not a fair reading of Calvin.

Although I don't have time to list the relevant quotes from this chapters, Calvin's view of the early church is nuanced and respectful. It is accurate to say that he finds much of the church in decline from around the 6th century onward, but he also finds that corruption crept in slowly, rather than immediately. I think an interesting aspect of his argument to consider is his treatment of Leo I and Gregory I. He uses the words of both of these figures at times to defend his argument against the papacy (see, e.g., Ch. VII Sec. 4). Yet at other times he highlights their weaknesses; I believe at one point he calls Leo a man of "ambition." It is clear in my mind that Calvin had a very nuanced view of all these early Christian leaders. You can see his theology at work here: we are all corrupt to some degree or another, and are continually depending on God's grace to sanctify us. It should be no surprise that this goes for leaders as well.

Chapter VIII is where the theological battleground is still present today. The Roman Catholic Church, as I understand it, would still more or less claim that the Church has some degree or other of infallibility--that is, the Tradition (with a capital "T") of the Church is sacred and without error. To this Calvin responds that the Church is only infallible insofar as it perseveres in its charge to uphold the Word of God. It is the "pillar and ground of the truth" in the sense that it is called to preserve the truth of Scripture--in a sense he is saying that the Bible is the truth, and the Church is its pillar and ground. For Calvin, any proclamation that comes from outside of Scripture can't be authoritative.

Essentially Calvin's doctrine of individual sanctification applies to the Church, as well. The Church is constantly bearing corruption, and must constantly seek God's grace to heal it. There is nothing truly infallible about the Church itself. To be honest, this is something I agree with perhaps more than anything else in all of Calvin. This is why I am a Protestant--the Church is simply not infallible.

There is one comment that comes in Section 15 of Chapter VIII that I found particularly interesting:

And I should not seem too quarrelsome because I insist so strongly that the church is not permitted to coin any new doctrine, that is, to teach and put forward as an oracle something more than the Lord has revealed in his Word. For sensible men see how perilous it is if men once be given such authority. They also see how great a window is opened to the quips and cavils of the impious if we say that what men have decided is to be taken as an oracle among Christians.

What if we view the political trend toward constitutional government in light of this sentiment? The written word is often the source of freedom for people. Indeed, that has always been the case in the United States, where our rights as citizens are enshrined in a written document that transcends the will of politicians. (We can only hope that these rights will continue to be enforced.)

For Protestants, the Bible functioned as a source of freedom long before the U.S. Constitution was written. What was written could not be annulled by power structures created by mere human beings. There is certainly something liberating about having the written word transcending human tradition. I have written at other times about the problems lurking underneath this freedom, but I have to say that at Calvin's moment in history, it makes sense that he clung to the supremacy of the written Scriptures over the tradition of the Catholic Church.

Interesting and provocative stuff. I think next time I post on Calvin, it might be "Calvin on the Papacy, Part II."

Calvin on the Holy Catholic Church

I'm making my way into the fourth and final book of Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion, entitled, "The External Means or Aids by Which God Invites Us Into the Society of Christ and Holds Us Therein." The first topic in this book is the Church. In this post I'll write some of my thoughts on Chapters I-III.

Calvin's ecclesiology in the Institutes is one of the more interesting topics I've come across, mostly because it's not widely talked about when people refer to "Calvinism." Ecclesiology is interesting to me these days for a variety of reasons. I suppose it has a lot to do with particular experiences I've had in and since college, but I also think it's worth all Christians thinking about. I know it's not the hottest topic at most evangelicals' Bible studies, but it really is one of the central questions of all of Scripture: what defines God's people?

Calvin's doctrine of the Church is so strong that you would think he was Catholic--and in a sense, he was, or at least he thought of himself that way. What he rebelled against was, as is poignantly made clear in Chapter II, the corruption of the Romanist Church. It's important to read Chapter I before Chapter II for two reasons. Firstly, you can't understand just how serious he is about calling the Roman Catholic Church not a church, unless you understand how serious he is about the unity of the Church. Secondly, it will do no good in our time to take all the heated rhetoric of Reformation out of context. What we have in our day all too often is a wealth of criticism without any ability to replace what we're criticizing with a coherent alternative.

Here is Calvin's view of the Church, put simply in Section 1 of Chapter I:

"For what God has joined together, it is not lawful to put asunder" [Mark 10:9 p.], so that, for those to whom he is Father the church may also be Mother.

Make no mistake, Calvin is talking about the visible Church (Sec. 4). In fact, it is quite clear that when Calvin talks about the "invisible" Church, he does not mean the "real" one. In context he is mostly referring to those who are not yet Christians; his primary motivation for bringing up the invisible Church is to remind us that we must also consider ourselves bound to people to whom we don't yet have a formal attachment.

He concedes that not all Christians are true, and that some will be exposed on the day of judgment. But using parables from the Gospel of Matthew such as the wheat and the weeds (Mt. 13:24-30), he argues that it is not only futile but harmful to try to sort out in this life who is a true believer and who is merely a hypocrite. Our loyalty should be to the Church, no matter what sort of moral corruption we might see within it. Thus Calvin spends several sections in Chapter I criticizing those such as the Anabaptists and other separatists who seek a pure Church.

This I find to be an extremely important counter to the American evangelical's constant need for a Church that's more "true." We seem to be more Anabaptist than Reformed in our ecclesiology, at least in practice. Yet it's more of a relativist strain of Anabaptist ecclesiology, wherein "other churches are true churches, too, but this is the church that I personally agree with most." Completely missing is the consideration of the unity of the Church as a whole. And I think to even suggest such a consideration will almost always get you either blank looks or possibly sneers. I've heard people talk about "Reformed Catholicity," but at this point it is structurally impossible for this to be anything more than an abstract idea. I hate to sound so cynical about that, but there simply is no denying the plain facts.

So what is, exactly, the mark of the true Church? Calvin has a pretty succinct answer in Section 9 of Chapter I:

Wherever we see the Word of God purely preached and heard, and the sacraments administered according to Christ's institution, there, it is not to be doubted, a church of God exists.

Calvin says that the moral purity of pastors and members of a congregation cannot annul the benefit of Word and sacrament. As long as these essential elements are there, it doesn't really matter how bad things get; God is at work, and he will be faithful. For Calvin, preaching is not a matter of a preacher coming up with words to say to his congregation. It is about God speaking through a man who has nothing in himself. Likewise, the sacraments don't have any power in themselves, nor are they made effective by those administering them; but are effective by God's grace.

In this context, Calvin defends the decision to break with the Roman Catholic Church in Chapter II. Calvin has not left himself any room to use mild language. If he insists that we must unite ourselves to Church no matter how much corruption there is within it, then he must have a severely compelling argument that the Roman Church is not the Church. Indeed, the word "antichrist" does come up. It's very sad to read this, but it's also easy to be very judgmental from a modern perspective, without understanding the depth of the conflict that led up to this language. I don't feel the need to repeat any of Calvin's invective against the "papists."

There is, however, a silver lining, so to speak. Calvin ends Chapter II with a word of qualification.

However, when we categorically deny to the papists the title of the church, we do not for this reason impugn the existence of churches among them. Rather, we are only contending about the true and lawful constitution of the church, required in the communion not only of the sacraments (which are the signs of profession) but also especially of doctrine.

The section following these words nevertheless ends on a critical note, showing that whatever Calvin was willing to concede to the "papists," he was still wholly convinced that Roman Catholicism was utterly devoid of the true marks of the Church.

Chapter III is not quite as interesting to me, and I suppose I won't get into it tonight since I'd rather not write for much longer. This chapter talks about the ordination of church officers, a rather dry subject for most of us (including me). It all felt familiar to me, since it is more or less what Presbyterians follow to this day.

Calvin does make some interesting remarks about why God chooses to speak through men, rather than just speak directly. I'm a little bit troubled by the argument, but I can also see how it has some force. Here's the comment that interests me:

If he spoke from heaven, it would not be surprising if his sacred oracles were to be reverently received without delay by the ears and minds of all. For who would not dread the presence of his power? Who would not be stricken down at the sight of such great majesty? Who would not be confounded at such boundless splendor? But when a puny man risen from the dust speaks in God's name, at this point we best evidence our piety and obedience toward God if we show ourselves teachable toward his minister, although he excels us in nothing.

This is certainly a good attitude to have toward preachers--they excel us in nothing. But the implication that God is not interested in making his will immediately received by all is troubling. I'm troubled by the idea of God testing people by obscuring his own message.

One more general comment about Calvin's ecclesiology. While I do appreciate his high appreciation for the unity and necessity of the Church, I also think his view is too instrumental. That is, he views the Church solely as a "means of grace," i.e. some tool God uses to make us more righteous. Is there not a sense in which God created the Church simply because that's what he loves? The question I'm asking is this: is the Church merely an umbrella for all the individuals who come to believe in Christ, or is it an entity in itself, with its own life and meaning in God's eyes? When I read that the Church is the Bride of Christ, or even his own Body, I am convinced that the Church has a more fundamental role in God's eyes than just being a tool for helping believers on the path to eternal life. I don't see Calvin specifically disagreeing with this, but he also fails to address it, which is disappointing.

Calvin on leaving the church

Not a long post today on the Institutes, just a couple of quotes that I read today that I found essential. From Book IV, Chapter I, Section 12:

What is more, some fault may creep into the administration of either doctrine or sacraments, but this ought not to estrange us from communion with the church. For not all the articles of true doctrine are of the same sort. Some are so necessary to know that they should be certain and unquestioned by all men as the proper principles of religion. Such are: God is one; Christ is God and the Son of God; our salvation rests in God's mercy; and the like. Among the churches there are other articles of doctrine disputed which still do not break the unity of faith. ... Here are the apostle's words: "Let us therefore, as many as are perfect, be of the same mind; and if you be differently minded in anything, God shall reveal this also to you" [Phil. 3:15]. Does this not sufficiently indicate that a difference of opinion over these nonessential matters should in no wise by the basis of schism among Christians? First and foremost, we should agree on all points. But since all men are somewhat beclouded with ignorance, either we must leave no church remaining, or we must condone delusion in those matters which can go unknown without harm to the sum of religion and without loss of salvation.

And from Section 13:

There are others who sin more out of ill-advised zeal for righteousness than out of that insane pride. When they do not see a quality of life corresponding to the doctrine of the gospel among those to whom it is announced, they immediately judge that no church exists in that place. This is a very legitimate complaint, and we give all too much occasion for it in this most miserable age. And our cursed sloth is not to be excused, for the Lord will not allow it to go unpunished, seeing that he has already begun to chastise it with heavy stripes. Woe to us, then, who act with such dissolute and criminal license that weak consciences are wounded because of us! But on their part those of whom we have spoken sin in that they do not know how to restrain their disfavor. For where the Lord requires kindness, they neglect it and give themselves over completely to immoderate severity. Indeed, because they think no church exists where there are not perfect purity and integrity of life, they depart out of hatred of wickedness from the lawful church while they fancy themselves turning aside from the faction of the wicked.

How might Protestantism look differently if this had been the dominant opinion for the past 500 years?

Calvin on Assurance, Resurrection

I have finished three out of the four books in Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion, a satisfying accomplishment, which I was able to do only by reading a few pages every day since January 1 of this year. By the end of the year, I should be finished with Book IV.

Having dealt with the doctrine of election, Calvin moves on in Chapter XXIV (of Book III) to talk about how we confirm our own election. This is an interesting chapter. As it builds on the previous chapters on election, it is in some ways just as frustrating. On the other hand, here as always we see some of Calvin's classic statements of humility and total dependence on God. The thing that always sticks out in Calvin is how humility is always coupled with confidence--both are rooted in a belief in God's absolute supremacy.

According to Calvin, God has elected from all eternity those destined for adoption as his children, but there is still a process of actually making them his own. The preaching and hearing of the gospel is essential to bringing the elect to faith (Sec. 1). But that isn't sufficient without the work of grace by the Holy Spirit (Sec. 2). Faith can only be stirred up in the elect, but election doesn't depend on faith (Sec. 3). This is basically a reiteration of earlier arguments, which make it clear that God doesn't simply predict the future--he actually determines it. In Calvin's mind, there really isn't any difference between God allowing and God causing; one way or the other, God is in total control of whatever happens.

There is a right and a wrong way to attain certainty about one's own election (Sec. 4). Calvin's own words are best to describe the difference:

I call it "seeking outside the way" when mere man attempts to break into the inner recesses of divine wisdom, and tries to penetrate even to highest eternity, in order to find out what decision has been made concerning himself at God's judgment seat. For then he casts himself into the depths of a bottomless whirlpool to be swallowed up; then he tangles himself in innumerable and inextricable snares; then he buries himself in an abyss of sightless darkness. For it is right for the stupidity of human understanding to be thus punished with dreadful ruin when man tries by his own strength to rise to the height of divine wisdom.

...

Let this, therefore, be the way of our inquiry: to begin with God's call, and to end with it.

In other words, certainty about one's own election can never come from some special knowledge. It can never come from yourself, no matter how spiritual you are. It always comes simply from believing God's promises.

In some sense, Calvin would have to agree that the doctrine of election need not be understood before assurance of calling is attained. For he insists it is wrong to seek certainty of election by directly inquiring about God's foreknowledge. Instead, he asks believers simply to believe the promise of the gospel, which is freely offered to all. It is as if the door leading to eternal life were marked on the front with the words "Come, all who will, and inherit eternal life," and then on the back with the words, "Welcome, you who have been chosen from all eternity." Those who enter the door might never even see the words on the back, but they would no less be those chosen from all eternity. They would inherit eternal life simply by believing the words on the front and obeying them.

And Calvin seems to be confirming this in Section 5 when he says, "First, if we seek God's fatherly mercy and kindly heart, we should turn our eyes to Christ, on whom alone God's Spirit rests [cf. Matt. 3:17]. If we seek salvation, life, and the immortality of the Heavenly Kingdom, then there is no other to whom we may flee, seeing that he alone is the fountain of life, the anchor of salvation, and the heir of the Kingdom of Heaven." If we enter into life through this door (that is, Christ) then we may be assured that we have eternal life, without penetrating the eternal decrees of God. It would seem to me, then, that contemplating our eternal election ought to serve only to produce humility, i.e. to prevent us from thinking that our decision to follow Christ was from ourselves, rather than from grace.

In Section 6-11, Calvin does a bit of scriptural exegesis to try to defend the view that those who truly believe cannot fall away. In my opinion, it all depends on what you mean by "truly believe." If you define true belief retroactively, so that only in the end can you know who truly believed, then you've won the argument by default. This to me is not very helpful. But I think the point Calvin is getting at is this: believers don't need to be troubled by their own sin, or by the nagging idea that God might let them go in the end, even after a life of struggling to believe. For Calvin, all believers ought to be reassured that God is good; he is not mean or arbitrary, and his promises are sure. As for those who fall away and stop believing and trusting in God, the promises no longer apply, and according to Calvin, they never did apply.

Personally, I don't think Calvin's view of perseverance matches real-life experience, and I also don't think it fits all that well with scripture. It seems to me that if you're going to talk about eternal things, you need to stop talking about temporal things, and vice versa. The choices people make here and now are real, but they are not eternal. People can and do choose to believe at one time, and then years later decide to stop believing--and vice versa. I think these choices are real, and meaningful. And I think it makes sense to say, so long as a person believes, he is a true Christian, and so long as he does not, he is no longer a Christian. Perseverance, then, is useful only in talking about eternal outcomes, rather than all these temporal decisions that people do, in fact, make. So far as I am concerned, the doctrine of perseverance, like the doctrine of election, is useful only in reminding believers that their salvation, both in the future as well as in the present, is only by grace, and not by something gained from themselves; and as it is by grace, we can trust that God will ensure the best outcome, because he is good.

Sections 12-17 explain what God does with the reprobate (those not elect to salvation). This is an intense section, but Calvin's motivation is, as always, quite clear. He insists that it is God who determines the fate of the reprobate--which sounds awful, because it is as if God throws them into hell against their will. But there is an awful lot of tension here. Calvin doesn't want to say anyone is thrown into hell against their will. The question he is answering, though, is why some people don't will to believe. In the end, he says, the answer to that question has to come down to God's decision; otherwise, it would come down to man's decision, and grace would no longer be grace.

If the same sermon is preached, say, to a hundred people, twenty receive it with the ready obedience of faith, while the rest hold it valueless, or laugh, or hiss, or loathe it. If anyone should reply that this diversity arises out of their malice and perverseness, I still will not be satisfied, because the nature of the former would be occupied with the same malice if God did not correct it by his goodness. Therefore, we shall always be confused unless Paul's question comes to mind: Who distinguishes you? [I Cor. 4:7] By this he means that some excel others not by their own virtue but by God's grace alone.

And if that doesn't satisfy you, well, here's what Calvin has to say:

When the impious hear these things, they complain that God with unbridled power abuses his miserable creatures for his cruel amusement. But we, who know all men to be on so many counts liable before God's judgment seat that challenged on a thousand points they cannot give satisfaction even on one, confess that the wicked suffer nothing out of accord with God's most righteous judgment. Despite the fact that we do not clearly grasp the reason for this, let us not be unwilling to admit some ignorance where God's wisdom rises to its height.

There is a great deal of humility in these words, yet also a sad lack of struggle in them. As I have mentioned time after time, the great saints of the Bible, from Abraham to Moses to David and even Jesus himself, all struggled with God over his sovereign purposes. Calvin doesn't give his readers much in the way of resources for truly "wrestling with God" (a feature of Jacob's character which earned him the very name Israel).

I'll just deal briefly with Chapter XXV, on the final resurrection of the dead. Mostly this is stuff commonly accepted by all Christians, but there are a couple of interesting ideas that Calvin takes the trouble to refute, which makes me curious which people have actually promoted these ideas.

The first idea is that there will be no resurrection. What's interesting about Calvin's refutation of this is that he uses burial rites to defend the idea that all cultures have been led to value the body and hope for resurrection.

Why the sacred and inviolable custom of burial but as an earnest of new life? And no one can claim that this arose out of error, for burial rites were always kept up among the holy patriarchs; and God willed that the same custom remain among the Gentiles so that an image of the resurrection set before them might shake off their drowsiness. Now, although that ceremony was unprofitable, it is useful to us if we wisely look to its purpose. For it is a weighty refutation of unbelief that all together professed what no one believed!

This is an interesting defense of Christian belief. In general the strategy is fairly common: take something that all people implicitly believe based on their actions, and show that it is logical only in a Christian worldview. But here the application of this strategy is quite unique, at least in my experience. Maybe that's because in our modern world burial customs aren't considered as important.

The second idea that Calvin refutes is the idea that when we are raised from the dead, we will have a new body, not the body we have now. Calvin affirms that the body we have now will be glorified, so that it will not be the same as it is now; but nevertheless it will be the same body. The reason he gives for this is quite wonderful, actually:

For it would be utterly absurd that the bodies which God has dedicated to himself as temples [I Cor. 3:16] should fall away into filth without hope of resurrection! What of the fact that they are also members of Christ? [I Cor. 6:15]. Or that God commands all their parts to be sanctified by him? Or that it is his will that his name be praised with men's tongues, that pure hands be lifted to himself [I Tim. 2:8], that sacrifices be offered [Rom. 12:1]? What madness is it for that part of man, deemed by the Heavenly Judge worthy of such shining honor, to be by mortal man reduced to dust beyond hope of restoration?

Thus Calvin refutes the dualism of the Manichaeans, who said that flesh was evil, and therefore could not share in the resurrection life. It's good to see a strong, classical Reformed affirmation of the physical body.

I think that's it for today. Next time I start in on Book IV, which has the pithy titled, "The External Means or Aids by Which God Invites Us Into the Society of Christ and Holds Us Therein."

Calvin on Election

Today I am reflecting on Book III, Chapters XXI - XXIII in Institutes of the Christian Religion. Let me start by acknowledging one thing at the outset. This segment of Calvin's work really is nearly as intolerable as most people make it out to be. Calvin stubbornly insists on pressing the doctrine, even though he is clearly aware that some of his own allies are more inclined to be more moderate on the topic. The primary theme that sticks out to me in Calvin's whole work is the theme of humility--and humility plays the most prominent role in his doctrine of election--yet a question that occurs to me is, how can one humbly beat others over the head with humility? That seems to be what Calvin is doing here, and it's not fun to read. So let me be honest about my complaints, while I also attempt to glean what is most insightful about these chapters.

First, I should give Calvin some credit at the outset for prepping the reading against two errors.

First, then, let them remember that when they inquire into predestination they are penetrating the sacred precincts of divine wisdom. If anyone with carefree assurance breaks into this place, he will not succeed in satisfying his curiosity and he will enter a labyrinth from which he can find no exit. For it is not right for man unrestrainedly to search out things that the Lord has willed to be hid in himself, and to unfold from eternity itself the sublimest wisdom, which he would have us revere but not understand that through this also he should fill us with wonder.

...

There are others who, wishing to cure this evil, all but require that every mention of predestination be buried; indeed, they teach us to avoid any question of it, as we would a reef. Even though their moderation in this matter is rightly to be praised, because they feel that these mysteries ought to be discussed with great soberness, yet because they descend to too low a level, they make little progress with the human understanding, which does not allow itself to be easily restrained. Therefore, to hold to a proper limit in this regard also, we shall have to turn back to the Word of the Lord, in which we have a sure rule for the understanding. For Scripture is the school of the Holy Spirit, in which, as nothing is omitted that is both necessary and useful to know, so nothing is taught but what is expedient to know. Therefore we must guard against depriving believers of anything disclosed about predestination in Scripture, lest we seem either wickedly to defraud them of the blessing of their God or to accuse and scoff at the Holy Spirit for having published what it is in any way profitable to suppress.

It's clear from this passage why Calvin is willing to go ahead and push through the doctrine of predestination, even though he is aware of the first danger that he mentions. I admit that he is probably not guilty of the first danger, in the sense that he is very restrained in his interpretation of God's foreknowledge.

But his fault, I find, is something like this: It is as if a doctor were to tell you your wife had cancer, and then explained to you in clear, scientific terms why this was the case. And should you cry out in tears if there is anything he can do about it, the doctor would respond, "Well, no, of course not! The facts are irrefutable." I don't know if Calvin means to sound this way, but he does.

For illustration, here are some nice, friendly quotes:

"No one who wishes to be thought religious dares simply deny predestination, by which God adopts some to hope of life, and sentences others to eternal death. But our opponents, especially those who make foreknowledge its cause, envelop it in numerous petty objections. We, indeed, place both doctrines in God, but we say that subjecting one to the other is absurd."

"As Scripture, then, clearly shows, we say that God once established by his eternal and unchangeable plan those whom he long before determined once for all to receive into salvation, and those whom, on the other hand, he would devote to destruction. We assert that, with respect to the elect, this plan was founded upon his freely given mercy, without regard to human worth; but by his just and irreprehensible but incomprehensible judgment he has barred the door of life to those whom he has given over to damnation."

"But others, not versed in Scripture, and deserving no approbation, so wickedly assail this sound doctrine that their insolence is intolerable. Because God chooses some, and passes over others according to his own decision, they bring an action against him. But if the fact itself is well known, what will it profit them to quarrel against God? We teach nothing not borne out by experience: that God has always been free to bestow his grace on whom he wills. I shall not inquire in what respect the descendants of Abraham excelled other men, except in that esteem whose cause is not found outside God. Let them answer why they are men rather than oxen or asses. Although it was in God's power to make them dogs, he formed them to his own image. Will they allow brute beasts to argue with God about their condition, as if the distinction were unjust? Surely, it is not fairer for them to possess a privilege that they have obtained without merits than for God variously to dispense his benefits according to the measure of his judgment!"

Delightful, isn't it? The worst part is the way in which Calvin makes his view irrefutable, by insisting that God's will is irrefutable:

"For God's wil is so much the highest rule of righteousness that whatever he wills, must be considered righteousness."

"They will say that God's righteousness is not truly defended thus but that we are attempting a subterfuge such as those who lack a just excuse are wont to have. For what else seems to be said her than that God has a power that cannot be prevented from doing whatever it pleases him to do? But it is far otherwise. For what stronger reason can be adduced than when we are bidden to ponder who God is? For how could he who is the Judge of the earth allow any iniquity [cf. Gen. 18:25]? If the execution of judgment properly belongs to God's nature, then by nature he loves righteousness and abhors unrighteousness. Accordingly, the apostle did not look for loopholes of escape as if he were embarrassed in his argument but showed that the reason of divine righteousness is higher than man's standard can measure, or than man's slender wit can comprehend. That apostle even admits that such depth underlies God's judgments [Rom. 11:33] that all men's minds would be swallowed up if they tried to penetrate it.... Monstrous is the madness of men, who desire thus to subject the immeasurable to the puny measure of their own reason!"

The effect of these statements is to shield Calvin's view of predestination from any possible objection raised by human intuition. Here we arrive at an age-old puzzle. If God is really God, then in some sense that's the way it should be--God is God, we are not, and our opinions don't measure up to His. But on the other hand, we all have to make a choice--is this voice truly the voice of God? And then how will we decide? Of course, if Christians say "the Bible" and Muslims say "the Koran," then we can all continue to be exactly where we are. But we will not get any closer to answering the question. It is, in my experience, an impossible conundrum, but nevertheless one that cannot be ignored.

All I can say is that Calvin's statements here shield him not only from other religious points of view, but even from other Christian points of view (even from his own allies). To me this smacks of folly. It is true that Calvin uses large pieces of biblical evidence from both the Old and New Testaments to make his point, but he seems a bit too hasty to conclude that he has been faithful to the Scriptures where hundreds of great theologians and millions of faithful believers have failed.

I will grant that Calvin makes some important clarifications. Specifically, he refutes the idea that predestination means what we do doesn't matter.

"For who can hear, they say, that either life or death has been appointed for him by God's eternal and unchangeable decree without thinking immediately that it makes no difference how he conducts himself, since God's predestination can neither be hindered nor advanced by his effort? ... Yet Paul teaches that we have been chosen to this end: that we may lead a holy and blameless life [Eph. 1:4]. If election has as its goal holiness of life, it ought rather to arouse and goad us eagerly to set our mind upon it than to serve as a pretext for doing nothing."

"But they stretch their blasphemies further when they say that he who has been condemned by God, if he endeavors through innocent and upright life to make himself approved of God [cf. II Tim. 2:15], will lose his labor. In this contention they are convicted of utterly shameless falsehood. Whence could such endeavor arise but from election? For whoever are of the number of the reprobate, as they are vessels made for dishonor [cf. Rom. 9:21], so they do not cease by their continual crimes to arouse God's wrath against themselves, and to confirm by clear signs that God's judgment has already been pronounced upon them--no matter how much they vainly resist it."

There will be more to say on Calvin's doctrine of election next time, since there is another chapter I still have to read. However, I were to summarize Calvin's doctrine in a way that is as sympathetic as possible, I would have to say, it comes down to this. Christians ought to pursue salvation, struggle to attain holiness, and live charitably toward all people, desiring first of all their salvation and secondly their every good. Yet all the while Christians ought to acknowledge that it is not by anything in ourselves that we receive salvation, nor is it by any effort of our own that we attain holiness, nor is it by any hope or prayer in ourselves that others are saved. Rather, it is all according to God's will, since He governs all. At base level, then, Calvin's doctrine is about exalting God's will to the highest degree, and about instilling humility in human beings, in the most extreme way possible. In some sense, no Christian can argue with that.

I also agree with Calvin on one crucial point: there really doesn't seem to me to be any difference between God's permission and God's will. As Calvin says, "But why shall we say 'permission' unless it is because God so wills? Still, it is not in itself likely that man brought destruction upon himself through himself, by God's mere permission and without any ordaining. As if God did not establish the condition in which he wills the chief of his creatures to be! I shall not hesitate, then, simply to confess with Augustine that 'the will of God is the necessity of things,' and that what he has willed will of necessity come to pass, as those things which he has foreseen will truly come to pass."

Indeed, I've never seen why it makes matters any better to assign a little or a lot of the process of salvation to man's free will. The fact still remains, God could have established conditions in which things would have happened differently. Can any Christian seriously deny that? If God wanted to, He could have made it so that Judas didn't betray Jesus. Is it really possible to deny this? Or is God subject to some higher authority?

One possible solution to all this is a Florenskian approach (which is perhaps the approach that many Eastern Orthodox take). From this point of view, "truth is a self-contradictory judgment." God's sovereign election and human free will, then, would simply exist in tension with one another, inseparably part of the truth, though contradicting one another. That's an attractive option in a lot of ways, because it perhaps holds the mysteries of God in even higher esteem than Calvin's view does: God's truth is so mysterious it cannot even be expressed rationally, as one or the other.

But even this doesn't seem to really deal with the thing that is hardest to deal with: the idea that judgment is eternal, and that inevitably some people will be cast into hell. Why should any Christian be comfortable with this idea? I still have never gotten a good answer.

I don't know what the answer is, but I will point out an important contradiction that I find in Calvin's view. When he was talking about prayer, he said, "If we would pray fruitfully, we ought therefore to grasp with both hands this assurance of obtaining what we ask, which the Lord enjoins with his own voice, and all the saints teach by their example. For only that prayer is acceptable to God which is born, if I may so express it, out of such presumption of faith, and is grounded in unshaken assurance of hope." But then when he discusses predestination, he agrees with Augustine when he says, "For as we know not who belongs to the number of the predestined or who does not belong, we ought to be so minded as to wish that all men be saved."

To change but a few words of Calvin in section 12 of Chapter XX, "Now what sort of prayer will this be? 'O Lord, I am in doubt whether thou willest to hear me, but because I am pressed by anxiety, I flee to thee, that, if thou willest, thou mayest save all people.' This is not the way of all the saints we read in Scripture." It really isn't: whether it's Abraham interceding on behalf of Sodom and Gomorrah, or Moses interceding for his own people, the saints of old did not sit back and accept God's judgments without a plea for mercy. Why, then, do Christians hear Christ telling them to pray for their enemies, and yet have absolutely no faith that God will hear those prayers?

Call me a heretic, but the only option that makes sense to me is some sort of universalism. The objection is always that there are examples in Scripture of people who are already under condemnation. As if God could not reach down into the depths of hell and save those who are already under judgment! Does this defy the words of Christ? I don't think so--no more than his own words defy the words of the Old Testament. As they say, it's all in how you interpret things. I would probably be better off leaving my heretical opinions to myself, but then this blog wouldn't be what it is.

In any case, Calvin's view actually gives me more motivation to pray for all people. If it is God who ultimately saves, then it is to God that I must go to make my case. Human minds cannot be changed by human power, if the Scriptures are to be believed. Should I not pray, then, that all people will be transformed? And when I pray, should I not pray believing that I have already received it, so that it may be granted [cf. Mark 11:24]? So much, then, for the problem of predestination.

Calvin on Prayer

My reading schedule for the Institutes of the Christian Religion had me hold out and read all of Book III, Chapter XX, before having a day of reflection. This somewhat lengthy chapter is entirely devoted to prayer, and it is one of the shining moments, I've found, in Calvin's massive work. It will not be easy to summarize, so I'll just have to ramble along and let the text come back to me by way of written reflection.

Prayer is central for Calvin. As he states at the beginning of Section 2, "It is, therefore, by the benefit of prayer that we reach those riches which are laid up for us with the Heavenly Father." And a little later, "Words fail to explain how necessary prayer is, and in how many ways the exercise of prayer is profitable."

Section 3 is devoted to giving six reasons for prayer. In particular he answers this objection: "But someone will say, does God not know, even without being reminded, both in what respect we are troubled and what is expedient for us, so that it may seem in a sense superfluous that he should be stirred up by our prayers--as if he were drowsily blinking or even sleeping until he is aroused by our voice?" His answer to this objection is clear enough: "But they who thus reason do not observe to what end the Lord instructed his people to pray, for he ordained it not so much for his own sake as for ours."

His six reasons for prayer may be summarized as follows:

1. That we increase in our zeal for God.
2. That we learn to be open and honest before God.
3. That we prepare ourselves to gratefully receive blessings from God.
4. To meditate on God's goodness after he has answered prayer.
5. To enjoy those things which God has given in answer to prayer.
6. To gain confidence in God's providence.

It's striking to me how God's sovereignty works itself out in Calvin's theology. Just as Calvin said way back in the first book, belief in God's sovereignty is no mere fatalism. It would turn into fatalism if God were distant. But for Calvin, God is always quite present, and his work is always intimately connected with the Christian life. God's sovereignty would make prayer superfluous if God didn't care about us. But for Calvin, God's sovereignty is precisely the reason why we pray, because God cares about us deeply. His sovereignty is all for our good.

In Sections 4-16, Calvin discusses the rules of right prayer. In sections 4-5 he comes out against irreverent prayer. Two statements demonstrate the seriousness he thinks we need to bring into prayer: "First, whoever engages in prayer should apply to it his faculties and efforts, and not, as commonly happens, be distracted by wandering thoughts.... We have noted another point: not to ask any more than God allows." This second point becomes even stronger later in the chapter, where Calvin says that all prayer should be modeled after the Lord's prayer. More on that later.

Although Calvin demands a certain effort be applied to prayer, true to himself he insists we can't do it on our own. "Therefore," he says, "in order to minister to this weakness, God gives us the Spirit as our teacher in prayer, to tell us what is right and temper our emotions." From my reading of Calvin, I'm not surprised at all that he has been called the theologian of the Holy Spirit.

In Sections 6-7, he proposes another rule: "that in our petitions we ever sense our own insufficiency, and earnestly pondering how we need all that we seek, join with this prayer an earnest--nay, burning--desire to attain it." In other words, prayer is not just a duty to be performed, but something to be done out of a sincerely felt need for God's help.

In Sections 8-10, he proposes a third rule: "that anyone who stands before God to pray, in his humility giving glory completely to God, abandon all thought of his own glory, cast off all notion of his own worth, in fine, put away all self-assurance--lest if we claim for ourselves anything, even the least bit, we should become vainly puffed up, and perish at his presence." Again, Calvin insists on a great deal of reverence in prayer. Also, this emphasis on humility is just so Calvin. It shows up literally everywhere in the Institutes.

In Sections 11-14, Calvin expounds on the fourth rule, which is "that, thus cast down and overcome by true humility, we should be nonetheless encouraged to pray by a sure hope that our prayer will be answered." There are a lot of details to be ironed out in this section, and I admit it's one of the more difficult passages for me to get through. I think most of us Christians struggle with this. What about unanswered prayer? Can we really believe in prayer, when evidence seems to suggest it makes no difference? It's fine for theologians to talk about it in this wonderfully pious way, but in the real world it just doesn't seem to work that way.

But I'm afraid Calvin has nothing but rebuke for doubting Thomases like me. He has this wonderfully frank statement in Section 12:

Now what sort of prayer will this be? "O Lord, I am in doubt whether thou willest to hear me, but because I am pressed by anxiety, I flee to thee, that, if I am worthy, thou mayest help me." This is not the way of all the saints whose prayers we read in Scripture. And the Holy Spirit did not so instruct us through the apostle, who enjoins us to "draw near to the heavenly throne...with confidence, that we may receive...grace" [Heb. 4:16 p.]; and when he teaches elsewhere that we have boldness and access in confidence through faith in Christ [Eph. 3:12]. If we would pray fruitfully, we ought therefore to grasp with both hands this assurance of obtaining what we ask, which the Lord enjoins with his own voice, and all the saints teach by their example. For only that prayer is acceptable to God which is born, if I may so express it, out of such presumption of faith, and is grounded in unshaken assurance of hope.

This statement is characteristic of the kind of passion with which Calvin approached his faith. He may be overstating his case here, but he states it so beautifully that it's hard not to be awestruck by it.

Sections 15-16 are also quite interesting, in that they deal with God's answers to prayers either from nonbelievers or from believers who do not pray rightly. But I think I'll pass over this.

Sections 17-27 deal with a matter of central importance for Protestant doctrine--the intercession of Christ alone as our mediator. He rejects praying to or for departed saints. I find his arguments rather compelling, but I don't wish to state them here. Doctrine is only one part of this rich and beautiful chapter.

Sections 28-30 are about public and private prayer. I won't go into this very much, but I found this quote about church buildings rather fascinating:

Now as god by his word ordains common prayers for believers, so also ought there to be public temples wherein these may be performed, in which those who spurn fellowship with God's peopel in prayer have no occasion to give teh false sxcuse that they enter their bedroom to obey the Lord's command. For he, who promises that he will do wahtever two or three gathered together in his name may ask [Matt. 18:19-20], testifies that he does not despise prayers publicly made, provie ostentation and chasing after paltry human glory are banished, and there is present a sincere and true affection that dwells in the secret place of the heart.

If this is the law lawful use of church buildings, as it certainly is, we in turn must guard against either taking them to be God's proper dwelling places, whence he may more nearly incline his ear to us--as they began to be regarded some centuries ago--or feigning for them some secret holiness or other, which would render prayer more sacred before God. For since we ourselves are God's true temples, if we would call upon God in his holy temple, we must prayer within ourselves.

I'm not sure if I agree with Calvin entirely on this one. His view of church buildings seems rather utilitarian, and doesn't fully appreciate how beauty can communicate the creative nature of God and, more importantly, the beauty of the Incarnation. But I won't dwell on that point very deeply. What Calvin says here is surely quite important for the development of modern Protestant thought on that subject.

Sections 31-33 deal with the questions of whether prayer should be sung, and in what language prayer should be spoken. His answers are: yes, there should be singing in church, but it should not be a matter of entertainment or show; and all prayers should be spoken in the language of the people, so that everyone can understand what is going on.

Basically the rest of this chapter on prayer is devoted to the Lord's prayer. Calvin says, "Now we must learn not only a more certain way of praying but also the form itself: namely, that which the Heavenly Father has taught us through his beloved Son." He elaborates with this rather remarkable passage:

Plato, on seeing men's want of skill in making requests to God, which if granted, would often have been disadvantageous to them, declares this, taken from an ancient poet, to be the best prayer: "King Jupiter, bestow the best things upon us whether we wish for them or not, but command that evil things be far from us even when we request them." And, indeed, the heathen man is wise in that he judges how dangerous it is to seek from the Lord what our greed dictates; at the same time he discloses our unhappiness, in that we cannot even open our mouths before God without danger unless the Spirit instructs us in the right pattern for prayer [Rom. 8:26]. This privilege deserves to be more highly esteemed among us, since the only-begotten Son of God supplies words to our lips that free our minds from all wavering.

Thus the Lord's prayer gives us a model of true prayer, so that we do not pray for what we ought not to pray, and we do pray for what we ought to pray.

For me, the most beautiful passage of this whole beautiful chapter is Sections 36-40. Calvin spends four sections meditating solely on the words "Our Father," and a fifth section meditating on "Our Father, who art in heaven." The first meditation consists in this: in calling God "Our Father," we show that we are praying in the name of Christ:

With what confidence would anyone address God as "Father"? Who would break forth into such rashness as to claim for himself the honor of a son of God unless we had been adopted as children of grace in Christ? He, while he is the true Son, has of himself been given us as a brother that what he has of his own by nature may become ours by benefit of adoption if we embrace this great blessing with sure faith.

Surely no one could fail to see Calvin's passionate love for God after reading these words:

By the great sweetness of this name he frees us from all distrust, since no greater feeling of love can be found elsewhere than in the Father. Therefore he could not attest his own boundless love toward us with any surer proof than the fact that we are called "children of God" [I John 3:1].

The second meditation on "Our Father" is that we must not be afraid of going before God on account of our sins. Feeling unworthy is not a reason to shy away from prayer:

For if among men, a son can have no better advocate to plead his cause before his father, can have no better intermediary to conciliate and recover his lost favor, than if he himself, suppliant and humble, acknowledging his guilt, implores his father's mercy--for then his father's heart cannot pretend to be moved by such entreaties--what will he do who is the Father of mercies and God of all comfort [cf. II Cor. 1:3]? Will he not rather heed the tears and groans of his children entreating for themselves, since he particularly invites and exhorts us to this, than any pleas of others, to whose help they in terror have recourse, not without some signs of despair, since they are distrustful of their Father's compassion and kindness? ..Therefore, whenever any hesitation shall hinder us, let us remember to ask him to correct our fearfulness, and to set before us that Spirit that he may guide us to pray boldly.

Here Calvin is implicitly being critical of the Roman Catholic tradition of praying to saints to intercede for them, but I can't help but admit his view seems not only more biblical, but also more beautiful. For if God really is perfectly gracious, and even calls us his children, why would we not go to Him first, and not to any intercessors? A child who goes to someone else to talk to his father for him truly has a broken relationship with his father. It would seem, then, that asking for others to seek God's forgiveness on our behalf, is not a sign of piety, but rather a sign that Christ's teaching has not been understood.

The third meditation on "Our Father" is on the word "Our," as opposed to "My." "From this fact," i.e. the fact that we say "Our Father" and not "My Father," Calvin says, "we are warned how great a feeling of brotherly love ought to be among us, since by the same right of mercy and free liberality we are equally children of such a father." He goes on,

Let the Christian man, then, conform his prayers to this rule in order that they may be in common and embrace all who are his brothers in Christ, not only those whom he at present sees and recognizes as such but all men who dwell on earth. For what God has determined concerning them is beyond our knowing except that it is no less godly than humane to wish and hope the best for them.

It is evident from this words that every image ever painted of Calvin as cold-hearted or unfeeling, on account of some misunderstanding of his doctrine of predestination or God's sovereignty, is totally false. Calvin's heart was for all people on earth, as I have noted earlier.

The fourth meditation on "Our Father" is a counterpoint to the third. Calvin notes that we are indeed to pray for ourselves individually, even though we are also praying for God's people as a whole. He uses the example of almsgiving as a comparison. We give alms to those who are around us, not to everyone in the entire world who needs help. However, this is not because we don't care about everyone in the world--we do--but we must act in our own station in life. Yet, Calvin notes, prayer and almsgiving are not entirely the same, since prayer can in fact be directed toward all people generally, as well as certain people particularly.

Then in Section 40 Calvin meditates on the words "in heaven." This meditation is so remarkable I'll just have to let Calvin speak for himself:

From this we are not immediately to reason that he is bound, shut up, and surrounded, by the circumference of heaven, as by a barred enclosure. For Solomon confesses that the heaven of heavens cannot contain him [I Kings 8:27]. And he himself says through the prophet that heaven is his seat, and the earth, his footstool [Isa. 66:1; Acts 7:49; cf. ch. 17:24]. By this he obviously means that he is not confined to any particular region but is diffused through all things. But our minds, so crass are they, could not have conceived his unspeakable glory otherwise. Consequently, it has been signified to us by "heaven," for we can behold nothing more sublime or majestic than this. While, therefore, wherever our senses comprehend anything they commonly attach it to that place, God is set beyond all place, so that when we would seek him we must rise above all perception of body and soul. Secondly, by this expression he is lifted above all chance of either corruption or change. Finally, it signifies that he embraces and holds together the entire universe and controls it by his might. Therefore it is as if he had been said to be of infinite greatness or loftiness, of incomprehensible essence, of boundless might, and of everlasting immortality. But while we hear this, our thought must be raised higher when God is spoken of, lest we dream up anything earthly or physical about him, lest we measure him by our small measure, or conform his will to our emotions. At the same time our confidence in him must be aroused, since we understand that heaven and earth are ruled by his providence and power.

Sections 41-47 are on the six petitions of the Lord's Prayer, and the conclusion ("For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever. Amen"). I don't think I'll summarize these sections, for the simple reason that the summary of each section couldn't be better stated than in the words of Jesus himself. But one point is worth noting: for Calvin, the entire prayer is about "Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." The first three petitions seem to be more about this than the last three, but Calvin insists that even when we shift to praying for our needs, we are still praying for God's glory. Always for Calvin our needs are bound up in God's sovereign will.

And another point is worth mentioning, as well. Calvin believes in praying for our literal, physical needs, not just for abstract spiritual benefits. Commenting on "Give us this day our daily bread," he says,

What certain writers say in philosophizing about "supersubstantial bread" [Matt. 6:11, Vg.] seems to me to agree very little with Christ's meaning; indeed, if we did not even in this fleeting life accord to God the office of nourisher, this would be an imperfect prayer [Matt. 6:11]. The reason they give is too profane: that it is not fitting that children of God, who ought to be spiritual, not only give their attention to earthly cares but also involve God in these with themselves. As if his blessing and fatherly favor are not shown even in food, or it were written to no purpose that "godliness holds promise not only for the life to come but also for the present life" [I Tim. 4:8 p.]!

Thus Calvin understood our daily life on earth to be substantial enough to be worth praying for. This certainly strikes me as much better than the sharp dualism apparently represented by other theologians.

Sections 48-49 reiterate the point made earlier that the Lord's prayer is a binding rule on all of our prayers--it gives us the basic content which we can adapt to particular times and circumstances. We don't need to stick to the same words, but simply be guided by them to form our own prayers.

Finally, Sections 50-52 close out this chapter with a word on patient endurance in prayer. Calvin prescribes preset times for prayer, though he insists that "this must not be any superstitious observance of hours, whereby, as if paying our debt to God, we imagine ourselves paid up for the remaining hours. Rather, it must be a tutelage for our weakness, which should be thus exercised and repeatedly stimulated."

I have to say, I'm impressed by all the various times Calvin prescribes prayer: "when we arise in the morning, before we begin daily work, when we sit down to a meal, when by God's blessing we have eaten, when we are getting ready to retire." I know many families who always pray before a meal, but I've actually not met one that prays after a meal.

Sections 51-52 particularly address waiting on God's provision, with the latter section dealing with seemingly unanswered prayers. Here is, perhaps, where the rubber really meets the road, and a choice between faith and disbelief occurs. Here Calvin says,

But if finally even after long waiting our senses cannot learn the benefit received from prayer, or perceive any fruit from it, still our faith will make us sure of what cannot be perceived by sense, that we have obtained what was expedient. ... Besides, even if God grants our prayer, he does not always respond to the exact form of our request but, seeming to hold us in suspense, he yet, in a marvelous manner, shows us our prayers have not been vain. ... For the Lord proves his people by no light trials, and does not softly exercise them, but often drives them to extremity, and allows them, so driven, to lie a long time in the mire before he gives them any taste of his sweetness. And, as Hannah says, "He kills and brings to life; he brings down to hell and brings back" [I Sam. 2:6 p.] What could they do here but be discouraged and rush into despair if they were not, when afflicted, desolate, and already half dead, revived by the thought that God has regard for them and will bring an end to their present misfortunes? Nevertheless, however they stand upon the assurance of that hope, they do not meanwhile cease to pray, for unless there be in prayer a constancy to persevere, we pray in vain.

To put it mildly, Calvin was a pretty intense guy. It is hard to imagine a more devout affirmation of prayer than the one given in this chapter. Calvin's prayer is also distinctly Trinitarian: we pray to God the Father, in the name of Jesus the Son, and by the power of the Holy Spirit. This formula, commonly heard in worship, is firmly adhered to by Calvin in this chapter, and it informs everything he says about prayer. We cannot pray to God without God as our help and God as our advocate. To God, through God, and by God. Prayer, perhaps, is as paradoxical as the Trinity itself; for in it assert our individual needs and desires before God, yet it is actually God speaking through us. All of this makes for a remarkably deep and complex view of Christian prayer.

Next time I get to meditate on Calvin's doctrine of election. You know. The part everyone thinks "Calvinism" is all about.

Fun stuff.

Calvin on Christian Freedom

I've been out for a while, mostly because a storm of rather biblical proportions recently hit Charlottesville and knocked out power in our neighborhood for three days. Now I'm in Seattle for a workshop on inverse problems and PDEs. Meanwhile, I guess it's time to blog again about Calvin.

Calvin writes about Christian freedom in Chapter XIX of Book of the Institutes of the Christian Religion. He connects it directly with justification by faith. Because we are completely justified by God's grace alone, we have a freedom of conscience that allows us to be rid of any guilt imposed by any law, especially laws devised by humans, but even the law of the Old Testament. In particular, he believes in freedom on "things indifferent," i.e. outward customs and practices not directly tied to righteousness.

Calvin is very moderate with this idea. He says that we are likely to fall into one of two errors because of this doctrine. One error is to overuse this freedom so as to offend others. As an illustration, Calvin mentions those who in his day would purposefully eat meat during Lent and on Good Friday just to show Catholics that they were proud of their Christian freedom. The other error is to overuse this freedom for the sake of self-indulgence. This, he says, is not permitted. The purpose of our freedom of conscience is so that we can pursue God, not sin. If we have freedom of conscience, then we can accept God's full embrace; but if we run back to the embrace of sin, then we give ourselves over to the way of death.

I see some major problems with Calvin's view of Christian freedom. These arise when he starts trying to explain how it is that we can be bound to certain duties in this life when we have freedom of conscience before God. This particular statement strikes me as disastrous:

Therefore, lest this prove a stumbling-block to any, let us observe that in man government is twofold: the one spiritual, by which the conscience is trained to piety and divine worship; the other civil, by which the individual is instructed in those duties which, as men and citizens, we are bold to perform. ... Now, these two, as we have divided them, are always to be viewed apart from each other. When the one is considered, we should call off our minds, and not allow them to think of the other. For there exists in man a kind of two worlds, over which different kings and different laws can preside.

To see just how disastrous this dualism is, it is important to see how it plays out:

By attending to this distinction, we will not erroneously transfer the doctrine of the gospel concerning spiritual liberty to civil order, as if in regard to external government Christians were less subject to human laws, because their consciences are unbound before God, as if they were exempted from all carnal service, because in regard to the Spirit they are free.

You could not ask for better soil in which to plant the seeds of secular modernity! These words imply that religious liberty does not imply political liberty. Thus the believer is reduced to hoping for a future freedom, while the state is allowed to assert its absolute authority here on earth. It is not hard to see how the ideas expressed here gradually morphed into the idea that religion is a private matter for individuals to cherish in their own personal lives, but irrelevant in the public sphere. These words make the common Christian impotent to stand up to the State's coercion. For this reason I am in profound disagreement with Calvin on this point.

On a more general note, Calvin seems to take all the real content out of freedom of conscience. Consider the last section of Chapter XIX (emphasis added):

Wherefore, as works have respect to men, so conscience bears reference to God, a good conscience being nothing else than inward integrity of heart. ... Sometimes, indeed, it is even extended to men, as when Paul testifies, "Herein do I exercise myself, to have always a conscience void of offense toward God, and toward men," (Acts 24:16). He speaks thus, because the fruits of a good conscience go forth and reach even to men. But, as I have said, properly speaking, it refers to God only. Hence a law is said to bind the conscience, because it simply binds the individual, without looking at men, or taking any account of them. For example, God not only commands us to keep our mind chaste and pure from lust, but prohibits all external lasciviousness or obscenity of language. My conscience is subjected to the observance of this law, though there were not another man in the world, and he who violates it sins not only by setting a bad example to his brethren, but stands convicted in his conscience before God. The same rule does not hold in things indifferent. We ought to abstain from every thing that produces offense, but with a free conscience. Thus Paul, speaking of meat consecrated to idols, says, "If any man say unto you, This is offered in sacrifice unto idols, eat not for his sake that showed it, and for conscience sake:" "Conscience, I say, not thine own, but of the other," (1 Cor. 10:28, 29). A believer, after being previously admonished, would sin were he still to eat meat so offered. But though abstinence, on his part, is necessary, in respect of a brother, as it is prescribed by God, still he ceases not to retain liberty of conscience. We see how the law, while binding the external act, leaves the conscience unbound.

Calvin's dualism is oppressive here. In our minds, we are free, but in our bodies, we are slaves. Again, the political implications are disturbing.

Freedom is not something that can be grasped. One does not define its parameters and then rest easy in a self-satisfied feeling of justification. Freedom is a matter of difficult choices that must be faced with courage. Liberty is not something to be asserted without humility, yet an individual must not simply let the world around him control his destiny. As surely as a man must acknowledge his own inner depravity, he must also acknowledge the depravity of the State, and of all the powers at work in this world. One cannot continually abstain from certain things for the sake of not offending others. At times his actions will offend others, though his own conscience is clear. It is not at all clear when he ought to go through with those actions despite the risks. But that's the thing about freedom: it refuses to be clearly defined, yet always remains essential to living as true human beings.

Calvin's work on Christian freedom was probably very important, especially in his own context. Nevertheless, this is a probably a low point in my opinion of Calvin's seminal writing. I don't think I could disagree with him any more strongly on a philosophical level than on this point.

The next section in the Institutes is on prayer. It's a long chapter, so I'm sure the next time I'll write will be on that topic.

Calvin on Justification by Faith

Now that I've written on N. T. Wright's view of justification by faith, it's time to get back to Calvin's view. Conveniently, this is exactly the section of Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion that I've just finished reading.

I'm not sure that it's worth trying to compare Calvin's take on justification with Wright's. The two views come out of very different contexts, yet both views converge on a number of important issues. I had originally thought to write a post comparing the two views side by side, but I realized this is a much too ambitious project. Instead, I'll just let Calvin be Calvin, and I'll write what I think he's said in the past 100 pages.

First, as I just noted, justification is an extremely important doctrine for Calvin--he spends a good 100 pages on it, taking up eight chapters in Book III. However, it is also significant what comes before and after. Book III opens with the Holy Spirit--He is the main character in applying the grace of Christ to our benefit. Faith is then defined, followed by a discussion of regeneration and repentance, and then a discussion of the Christian life. When Calvin starts talking about justification by faith, he has just been talking about denying ourselves and bearing the cross. I would argue that this point is vital to understanding what Calvin says about justification by faith. Obviously I have not read what comes after justification by faith, but I know that the topics will be Christian freedom, prayer, election and predestination, and the final resurrection.

It is quite significant to me that justification by faith is buried within Book III. Although evangelicals have followed Calvin closely in their statement of justification by faith, I don't think they have followed him in the priority he assigns to it. Calvin does not start with it as the very foundation of the gospel. Neither does Calvin build up to it as if justification by faith were the climax of it all. One might argue that this placement means Calvin views justification as the inner core of the gospel, but I don't think that will do, either. Calvin clearly views the doctrine as extremely important, especially insofar as the Roman Catholic Church has severely corrupted the doctrine in his view; but he does not equate justification by faith with either the beginning or end of salvation, certainly not with the whole of salvation. I think it's necessary to point out where the doctrine actually fits in his overall theology--not on the sidelines, but not as the star quarterback, either.

It would be pointless and tiresome to go through the whole eight chapters in sequence, so I'll just summarize what I think is significant about Calvin's view. For Calvin, justification by faith is both a humbling and an assuring doctrine. Sometimes the humbling effect comes across even stronger than the assurance. Perhaps this is because Calvin is trying to defend his view against his Roman Catholic opponents, who might suggest that Protestants are trying to get out of obeying the law. On the contrary, Calvin says. He repeatedly insists that God will bring His good work in believers to completion by sanctifying them with good works.

So how is justification by faith humbling? It says that all of our works are tainted, so that they can never merit favor before God. It says that we contribute nothing to our salvation. It says that we cannot give any credit at all to ourselves. We are justified by faith alone. And technically, Calvin says, we're not justified by faith, but rather through faith. Faith is not a work that merits justification, but a state of openness to God's grace. We are justified by God's grace, and it is by faith that we wholly rely on that grace. Note that no other kind of faith will do; mere acknowledgment of God's existence is not justifying faith, but only faith that rejects all the works of the self and trusts in God to be merciful.

Assurance goes hand in hand with this humility. Since it does not depend on human effort, but on God who shows mercy (the words of Romans 9 fit quite naturally), we can be assured that we are justified before God, and that we are free to come before Him as beloved children. Even though we cannot earn a shred of merit before God, we ought not to be afraid to come before Him, because we trust in His mercy. This kind of assurance cannot come without humility. But then again the humility cannot come without assurance, for how can one give up on trying to earn God's favor unless he is first assured that God is merciful?

What place does Calvin leave for works? This is probably the most fascinating part, because it's something evangelicals tend to short-circuit. First there is this issue of motivation. Calvin's motivation for good works is not only gratitude for God's mercy, but God's glory itself; when believers contemplate God's goodness, they are motivated by the sheer force of it to do the works God has given them.

Then there is also this issue of what benefit believers get from doing good works, and the twin issue of why God accepts good works as anything. Part of Calvin's answer to the latter question is quite remarkable: the same grace that causes God to forgive us our sins also causes Him to accept our good works as good, even though they are in fact tainted by our sin. There is a good bit of tenderness in what Calvin says here about God. It is as if he said, we are but children making a mess of all the chores our father has given us to do, but our father accepts them as acts of love because we are his children.

The other part is equally important: it is not the believers themselves who do the works God requires, but rather the Spirit of God working in them. Thus God accepts as holy the good works that He has done through us. Calvin comes a little close here to sounding as if the believer is simply annihilated in the process--if everything is up to God, is the believer now irrelevant? But I think Calvin has in mind here a spiritual union between the believer and God, so that the good fruit that begins to arise in a believer is the result of that union. This union is such that the believer does not "share the credit" for good works with God, but rather attributes all goodness in himself to God. This is kind of a mysterious thing, and in some sense it's not worth splitting hairs over, except that Calvin's view seems to be the only way to fuse both perfect humility and perfect trust in God.

What is the benefit to believers for doing good works? Well, one benefit is quite simply the blessing that naturally follows from such good works; this is a common grace that all people can accept. But interestingly enough, Calvin is quite comfortable saying that our good works also lead to final salvation. The only way I can possibly explain this is with Calvin's own words in Chapter XVIII, Section 1:

The statement that "God will render to every man according to his works" [Rom. 2:6] is explained with little difficulty. For the expression indicates an order of sequence rather than the cause. But, beyond any doubt, it is by these stages of his mercy that the Lord completes our salvation when "he calls those chosen to himself; those called he justifies; those justified he glorifies" [Rom. 8:30 p.]. That is to say, he receives his own into life by his mercy alone. Yet, since he leads them into possession of it through the race of good works in order to fulfill his own work in them according to the order that he has laid down, it is no wonder if they are said to be crowned according to their own works, by which they are doubtless prepared to receive the crown of immortality. But they are fitly said to "work out their own salvation" [Phil. 2:12 p.], for the reason that, while devoting themselves to good works, they meditate upon eternal life.... What then? Once they are, by knowledge of the gospel and illumination of the Holy Spirit, called into the fellowship of Christ, eternal life begins in them. New that God has begun a good work in them, it must also be made perfect until the Day of the Lord Jesus [Phil. 1:6]. It is, however, made perfect when, resembling their Heavenly Father in righteousness and holiness, they prove themselves sons true to their nature.

This illustrates precisely what I meant by saying that we need to fit justification by faith with Calvin's overall theology. For Calvin it is natural that, just as the Bible says, we will inherit eternal life in accordance with our works; but these very works Calvin views as gifts, and not sources of merit before God. We do not cooperate with God to achieve salvation; we receive every part of salvation from God as a gift. Justification by faith, however, is an important step in the process of salvation. It declares us firmly as completely forgiven by God, so that we will never have to fear His wrath. This teaching must surely have been a blessing to those who, like Martin Luther, struggled to know whether God would ever be satisfied with them.

In light of what I've read from N. T. Wright, I have to admit it is now obvious that Calvin never puts justification into a first century Jewish context. He never once mentions justification by faith in relation to ecclesiology (although he may do that later in Book IV, I don't know). Justification for Calvin is ultimately a question of how we know we are right with God. Thus Calvin is answering a question of his day, and scholars like Wright may be correct in pointing out that this isn't the question Paul was answering.

Nevertheless, Calvin's achievement here is that he did give Christians of his time a biblical way to think about that question that was on their minds. How do we know we are right before God? Is God's wrath waiting to punish us or reward us on the basis of how much merit we have before Him? Calvin's answer is a definitive "no." In fact, I don't think Wright gives Calvin enough credit for how close he came to abolishing the question entirely. Throughout this section I was struck by how many places Calvin said something to the effect of, "The category of merit should not even be applied here." If we had simply continued Calvin's line of reasoning, perhaps by now we would have seen the issue of justification by faith in a very different light. We would have seen that the real question we ought to be asking is not, "How do we know we are right with God?" but rather, "How is God's glory revealed to the world?" This is Calvin, through and through.

Thoughts on N. T. Wright's book on Justification

I'm almost finished with N. T. Wright's Justification: God's Plan and Paul's Vision. Just a couple of observations tonight. Reformed types who are so up in arms about Wright's views have apparently missed the fact that there can't be any stronger defense of "Covenant Theology" than this book. Honestly, before reading this book I'd never encountered an argument for justification by faith that actually made the whole Bible make sense.

In a lot of ways, N. T. Wright reminds me of John Calvin, in the following sense. He combines 1) a steadfast devotion to the authority of Scripture; 2) a towering intellect and an immense scholarly understanding of the Bible; and 3) a passionate desire to defend 1) using 2), making no compromises to the traditions of men. This book on Justification brings out the most polemical, the most exasperated, and the most passionate I've ever read from Wright. Reading it alongside the Institutes, it's hard not to see the similarities with Calvin's writing. Those who live under constant assault are bound to launch back at some point or another.