Dr. Raymond A. (Randy) Blacketer

Reformation Historian, Historical Theologian

Category: John Calvin

The Mystery of the Golden Mouth, or, The Case of the Dubious Reference

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On September 21, 2018

In Church History, Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin, Theology, Translating

Sherlock Holmes making deductions in his mind palace about John Chrystostom

Historical research is punctuated by mysteries great and small. I solved a micro-mystery today.  It was The Case of the Dubious Reference, or The Mystery of the Golden Mouth. “Golden Mouth” (Chrysostomos, Greek: ὁ Χρυσόστομος) was a title given to the preacher and Bishop by the name of John (St. John Chrysostom, c. 349-407) who preached in Antioch and was consecrated Archbishop of Constantinople. He was called “the golden mouth” because of his gift for preaching. Centuries earlier, a Greek philosopher and orator had also been honored with that title, Dio Chrysostom.

John Calvin often cites John Chrysostom, both positively and negatively. When it came to biblical interpretation, Chrysostom was one of his favorites, because his exegesis tended to be more literal than some other church fathers who preferred to find allegories all through the biblical text. But Calvin was rather unhappy with Chrysostom’s theology of grace and human free will. Chrysostom frequently emphasizes human efforts and virtue in salvation and asserts that grace has to be merited, and that salvation is a cooperative effort between God and sinners. This was not uncommon in the early church, before the controversy between Augustine and Pelagius. By contrast, Calvin was quite critical of Augustine’s exegesis, because he was quite prone to this kind of spiritual interpretation, which Calvin found fanciful and speculative, particularly because medieval Roman Catholic theology used this kind of spiritual exegesis to justify doctrines that the Reformers rejected. But Augustine was Calvin’s favorite when it came to the doctrines of grace, the bondage of the will to sin, and a divine predestination not based on foreseen merit.

Now for the mystery. Calvin cites Chrysostom several times in his Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2.2.4, when he is talking about the capacities of the human will after humanity’s fall into sin. These references originated in the second Latin revision of the Institutes from 1539. This is a topic on which he thinks Chrysostom is quite wrong, and it’s not just because he doesn’t understand Chrysostom’s homiletical context.[note] Pace an otherwise interesting article by György Papp, “Aspects of Calvin’s use of Chrysostom-Quotations Concerning the Free Will,” in Herman J. Selderhuis and Arnold Huijgen, eds., Calvinus Pastor Ecclesiae: Papers of the Eleventh International Congress on Calvin Research (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2016), 423-433). Papp underestimates Chrysostom’s emphasis on human striving, effort, and virtue, and he does not take into account the fact that rejecting late medieval semi-Pelagianism was a central doctrinal concern of the Reformation. [/note] Calvin cites three statements from Chrysostom’s Homiliae in Genesim (Homilies in Genesis) and gives references for the first and third of these citations.[note]Opera Selecta 3: 245, McNeill-Battles ed., 1: 259.[/note] Footnoting was random and capricious in those wicked and dark days of the sixteenth century. The editors of the Opera Selecta (Karl Barth’s brother Peter and two other Barthian scholars, Wilhelm Niesel and Dora Scheuner) identify the second reference as In Gen. hom. 25.7. This is wrong.

The first clue that this is a mistake is that Calvin introduces the next citation with the words “Dixerat autem prius,” “He had previously said”–Autem here is basically a comma; ignore it–and then Calvin cites a passage from In Gen. hom. 53.2. So one would expect that the previous citation would occur after that sentence in homily 53.2. I don’t blame the editors; it can be exceptionally hard to figure out Calvin’s references, and he is prone to mistakes in citations, particularly biblical citations. But still, I am surprised that they did not look for something that occurs after the third citation.

One of the difficulties is that there are a number of Latin translations of Chrysostom that are and were available. Calvin’s Latin does not appear verbatim in the Latin translation that was included in the 19th-century edition thrown together by J-P Migne, the Patrologia Graeca. But Calvin can also paraphrase a passage or alter it to fit the grammar and syntax of his writing. Calvin’s citation or paraphrase reads:  Item, Sicut nisi gratia Dei adiuti, nihil unquam possumus recte agere: ita nisi quod nostrum est attulerimus, non poterimus supernum acquirere favorem. (“Further, he says that, just as we cannot ever do anything correctly apart from the grace of God, in the same way, unless we bring what is our own, we will not be able to obtain favor from above.”) You will not find those exact words in the Patrologia Graeca. 

Nevertheless, I persisted.

Because you have to be somewhat obsessive in this field. Just enough to enable you to make discoveries, but just short of needing to be institutionalized.

I searched Chrysostom’s homilies on Genesis for something that sounded similar, and which occurred after homily 53, section 2. Fortunately, I found something rather similar at the very end of homily 58, except that it refers to obtaining God’s help rather than his favor.[note]Sicut enim nisi illo subsidio fruamur, nihil umquam possumus recte agere: ita nisi quod nostrum est attulerimus, non poterimus auxilium obtinere. [/note] This could be a simple matter of a different translation, however.

Greek text in de Montfaucon’s edition

I checked the passage in the 19th-century edition of Calvin’s works that the Opera Selecta editors used, edited by Bernard de Montfaucon (1655-1741) who invented the science of paleography. in the process I learned that the Latin translation in de Montfaucon’s edition is the one “borrowed” by the prolific plagiarist Jacques-Paul Migne’s Patrologia Graeca.[note]See Sancti patris nostri Joannis Chrysostomi opera omnia quae exstant, ed. Bernard de Montfaucon, 13 vols. (Paris: Gaume Fratres, 1834-1838), 4: 658-659; Migne, Patrologia Graeca 54: 513. [/note]

But there was more. During my investigations, I ran across some fascinating recent work by Drs. Jeannette Kreijkes on Calvin’s use of Chrysostom. She is writing a dissertation on this topic at the University of Groningen. She has refuted the common assumption that Calvin only used one edition of Chrysostom’s works, the Latin translation published in Paris in 1536 by Claude Chevallon, which does not include Chrysostom’s Greek.[note]Jeannette Kreijkes, “Calvin’s Use of the Chevallon Edition of Chrysostom’s Opera Omnia: The Relationship between the Marked Sections and Calvin’s Writings,” Church History and Religious Culture 96.3 (2016): 237–265. She refutes some of the main arguments in Alexandre Ganoczy and Klaus Müller, Calvins handschriftliche Annotationen zu Chrysostomus: Ein Beitrag zur Hermeneutik Calvins (Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1981), and in W. Ian P. Hazlett, “Calvin’s Latin Preface to his Proposed French Edition of Chrysostom’s Homilies: Translation and Commentary,” in. James Kirk, ed., Humanism and Reform: The Church in Europe, England, and Scotland, 1400-1643 (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991), 129-150.[/note] I had a very good conversation with her as well, and I learned from her something about the various editions that were available during Calvin’s day. She also has access to the 1536 Chevallon edition, which is nowhere online and quite hard to find. How does Chevallon’s translation of the passage read?

Eureka!

Chevallon’s edition is much closer to Calvin’s citation, and in fact, the latter part is identical.[note]“Sicut autem nisi illam habeamus, nihil unquam possumus recte agere possumus, nisi superna gratia adiuti. Sicut autem nisi illam habeamus, nihil unquam possumus recte agere: ita nisi quod nostrum attulerimus, non poterimus supernum acquirere favorem.” Divi Ioannis Chrysostomi Archiepiscopi Constantinopolitani Opera, 5 vols. (Paris: Claude Chevallon, 1536), 1: fol. 118 vo.  [/note] Does this prove that Calvin was using the Chevallon edition? Not at all.

Johannes Oecolampadius and his rather square beard.

Some scholars tend to assume that Calvin used the Chevallon edition throughout his career. When I first found that the Chevallon edition corresponded to Calvin’s citation, that was my first thought as well. But the Chevallon edition is identical in this passage to the translations found in editions prepared by Oecolampadius [note]Divi Ioannis Chrysostomi… in totum Geneseos librum Homiliae, trans. Johannes Oecolampadius (Basel: A. Cratander, 1523), fol. 169 vo .[/note] in 1523 and Erasmus[note] D. Ioannis Chrysostomi archiepiscopi Constantinopolitani opera quae hactenus versa sunt omnia, etc. ed. Desiderius Erasmus, 5 vols. (Basel: Froben, 1530), 5: 307. [/note] in 1530.

But I think it was Oecolampadius. Why? Because immediately afterward, Calvin cites Chrystostom’s Genesis homilies again, this time In Gen. hom. 53.2. [note]Patrologia Graeca 54: 466).[/note] Except that Calvin’s marginal reference does not indicate homily 53, but homily 52. And the homily that the other editions number as 53, Oecolampadius numbers as 52, because, for some reason, he omits the first homily that the others include and enumerate as homily 1. But that’s a mystery for another day. It is possible that there was another edition that numbered the homilies the same way that I have not found, or that Calvin simply made an error, but my detective instincts do not lean that way. For now, I think Oecolampadius is the prime suspect, and at the very least he should be handcuffed, read his rights, and hauled down to the station for further questioning.

Solving these little micro-mysteries is very satisfying; who doesn’t enjoy a good mystery? (My favorite mystery writer is Lyndsay Faye, whose mysteries are set in the 19th century). And along the way, I met a fellow historical detective, Jeannette Kreijkes, who is a formidable Calvin scholar, to whom I owe much of what I found and learned on this case.

Calvin, Tertullian, and the Species of the Divine Persons

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On May 21, 2018

In Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin, Theology, Translating, Trinity

In 1557, the Italian antitrinitarian Giovanni Valentino Gentile took refuge in Geneva with other Italian exiles, some of whom held antitrinitarian views. Gentile and fellow Italian exile Nicola Gallo were charged with heresy in 1558. Gentile would eventually be executed, under Bern’s authority, for his antitrinitarian views in 1566. In the final 1559/60 edition of his Institutes, Calvin takes up Gentile’s antitrinitarian argument; Gentile had cited a number of church fathers to defend his views, including Tertullian. Calvin writes in Institutes 1.13.28:

They are no more honest when they claim Tertullian as their patron, for, despite his occasionally harsh and prickly rhetorical style, he still unequivocally teaches the substance of the doctrine we are defending, namely, that, while there is one God, nonetheless by dispensation or economy there is his Word;that God is one through the unity of substance, and nevertheless that unity is disposed into a trinity by the mystery of dispensation; that there are three, not in status, but in rank;[1] not in substance, but in form; not in power, but in order.

Except that is not what Tertullian says.

Tertullian says that there are three, not in status, but in rank, not in substance, but in form, not in power, but in species. “Tres autem non statu, sed gradu; nec substantia, sed forma; nec potestate, sed specie…” (Adv. Prax. 2; Migne PL 2: 157). Calvin’s Latin reads nec potestate, sed serie, to which the 1560 French corresponds (non pas en puissance, mais en ordre). Battles, following the Opera Selecta (3: 149 note a) presumes this is just a simple error; and Opera Selecta corrects Calvin’s serie to specie. 

But was it just a simple error? Tertullian’s original phrasing is problematic in terms of later Trinitarian orthodoxy. In fact, English theologian Herbert Thorndike (1598-1672) observed that both Robert Bellarmine and his fellow Jesuit Gregory de Valentia read this phrase from Tertullian in the works of Bullinger, who did not clearly attribute it to Tertullian, and promptly accused him of Arianism. See The Theological works of Herbert Thorndike, 6 vols. in 10 (Oxford: J.H. Parker, 1844-1856), 3: 294-295. The work in question is Bullinger’s Ad Ioannes Cochlei de canonicae scripturae et Catholicae ecclesiae authoritate libellum, appended to an edition of his De scripturae sanctae authoritate, certitudine, firmitate et absoluta perfectione, etc. (Zurich: Froschauer, 1544), fol. 16v.  

It is possible that Calvin, more or less consciously, corrected Tertullian’s orthodoxy at this point, since the term species often refers to a visible or sensible form or manifestation, which is problematic in describing the Trinity, which is spiritual and invisible. In addition, an understanding that relates essence and persons as genus and species would also be problematic in the context of later, more developed Trinitarian orthodoxy. Calvin had earlier criticized Servetus’s opinion that the persons were only external manifestations (species) of ideas, in 1.13.22. So, Calvin was already on guard against seeing the persons as species.

In any case, this section of the Institutes was based on documents from the controversy and trial. Calvin later published the materials related to the controversy and trial: Impietas Valentini Gentilis detecta, et palam traducta, qui Christum non sine sacrilega blasphemia Deum essentiatum esse fingit, etc. ([Geneva,] 1561), CO 9: 361-420. In this document, Tertullian’s words are correctly reproduced.

So we are left with a few mysteries. Why did Calvin replace specie with serie in the quotation from Tertullian? And how exactly would Calvin have interpreted Tertullian’s problematic phrasing? And, going back further, what did Tertullian himself mean when he applied the term species to the distinction of Trinitarian persons? I am not sure that any of these can be answered with any certainty.

 

Getting Calvin Wrong

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On July 1, 2016

In Church History, Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin, Reformed Theology, Theology

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.

 

Blog Reboot; And, The CRC and Science

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On November 26, 2013

In Biblical Interpretation, John Calvin, Reformed Theology, 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.”

On Religion, to its Uncultured Pomo Despisers

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On January 25, 2010

In John Calvin, Missional Church, Reformed Theology, Religion

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.

The Seed of Religion, The Christian Religion, and Religion as a Ruse

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On July 21, 2009

In Church History, Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin, Religion

I’m reading Calvin’s Institutes, a new translation of the 1541 French edition, for a book review for Calvin Theological Journal. It’s a good opportunity to re-read the Institutes in a different form than the one I read in college a few decades ago. I just came across Calvin’s discussion, in the early pages of the first chapter, of the “seed of religion,” that sense of the divine that is in all people, no matter what their culture or civilization may be. All people are religious, Calvin says. And it’s a good reminder that “religion” is not a bad word, contrary to what we hear from many Christian writers, as well as many non-Christian writers. Religion really means: a person’s sense or perspective on the big picture. Religion has to do with what’s ultimately important in life, and in your life. Religion has to do with what drives you in life, what life is about, what life is for, what life means. For many, religion is about having a good life, avoiding pain, and trying to be as prosperous as possible, and trying not to hurt anyone in the process. For some, religion is about pretending you’re not religious, and claiming, instead, to be “spiritual.” For others, their religion is a profound faith in science and technology, together with the hope that humanity will evolve and progress and just get better and better. (It’s a good idea for those whose religion is scientific progress to avoid the reading of history, otherwise they might have a crisis of faith). I heard recently of a new science cult which adamantly denies that it is a religious movement, even as its followers zealously promote its utopian view of the future where humans and machines will merge. Sounds like evangelism to me. Sounds like a vision of heaven…or hell.

The Christian Religion, as Calvin rightly and boldly calls our faith, finds the meaning of human life in the story of God the Creator, who is also God the Savior in Jesus Christ, and God the Healer and Restorer, the Holy Spirit. This is the story of God who draws his broken and rebellious people, his runaway sons and daughters, back into relationship with him. “Religion” should never be contrasted with “relationship,” as popular Christian authors constantly do, pretending that they’ve actually solved some kind of problem, or said something profound. The catchphrase “personal relationship with Jesus” is too vague, too individualistic, to small to sustain the weight of what God is really doing in the world. He is transforming the whole creation in Christ. He is reconciling the world to himself. Of course he does this by transforming individual hearts and souls and lives, but he always does this in community. Richard Mouw of Fuller Seminary recently wrote an article for Christianity Today about the proper balance between the individual and the community in Christian consciousness. While liberal churches ignore individual conversion and transformation, Evangelical churches focus far too exclusively on the individual. He writes, “We evangelicals never downplay the importance of individuals—as individuals—coming to a saving faith in Jesus Christ. We never say that an individual’s very personal relationship to God is not important. What we do say is that individual salvation is not enough.”

Then Calvin says something that suprised me. I’m sure I read it many years ago, but I had forgotten. Calvin speaks of the universal sense of divinity, the awareness that there is a God in all people. Then he writes, “That is why it is false to say (as some do) that religion was long ago contrived by the art and clever ruse of a few people, in order to control the naive populace in decency even though the ones who were urging others to honor God had no idea of the divine. I certainly admit that some delicate and deceitful people among the pagans have forged many things in religion to make naive people afraid and  cause them scruples, so that they would be more obedient and easier to order around; but they would not have succeeded in this if people’s spirits had not first been fixed on the firm persuasion that there is a God. From that source came the whole inclination to believe what was said about religion.” (Institutes of the Christian Religion, 1541 French Edition, tr. Elsie McKee, p. 26). Calvin wrote this 300 years before Karl Marx claimed that religion was just a tool used by the powerful to control the weak. Calvin, by contrast, says that while religion might be misused in this way, such abuse of religion does not explain the universal prevalence of religion. Marxism itself was a secularized religion, complete with its own world-view, values, and vision of a utopian socialist future. Its interesting that 500 years after Calvin’s birth, the same issues are being debated. Today we have Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins touting a new atheism, and a return to “reason,” without the slightest clue that their “new” atheism is really quite old, and–even more embarrasing–it is itself a religion, a view of how things should be, an argument about the meaning of life (or lack thereof). Not only that, but their arguments against belief in God can’t even hold enough water to spawn a newly-evolved life form. Disbelief takes just as much faith as belief; the atheist is just as religious as the believer.

Calvin and His Influence, Geneva

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On May 28, 2009

In Church History, Geneva, John Calvin, Reformed Theology

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.

Princeton

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On May 18, 2009

In Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin, Sabbatical

Princeton Theological SeminarySandy attended the Conference on Emerging Adulthood at Princeton Theological Seminary this past weekend. At the time of this writing (Monday morning) she is still trying to get back home, thanks to mechanical troubles with her plane. I met her up there, and while she was conferencing, I enjoyed Princeton’s considerable beauty, history, and library treasures. Princeton’s campus is a thing of beauty, especially if you love big old fancy buildings. There was also a great bookstore, called Labyrinth Books, on the main drag near the University, Nassau Street.

The most exciting event for me, though, was going to the Henry Luce III Library and spending some quality time with a first edition (1536) Christianae Religionis Institutio (Institutes of the Christian Religion) by John Calvin. DSC_0050

I was allowed to spend all the time I wanted with this treasure of the Reformation. I leafed through the pages, read significant passages, wrote my name in the margin…ok, I didn’t do that last thing, but I did take lots of pictures. Here’s a shot that highlights Calvin’s thoughts on Christian liberty:

 

LibertyPhariseesNever

“Thus we ought to temper the use of our freedom to allow for the ignorance of our weak brothers, but for the rigor of the Pharisees, never!”

In the Thick of It

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On May 8, 2009

In Biblical Interpretation, Church History, John Calvin, Reformed Theology, Sabbatical, Writing

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.

Beginning

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On May 5, 2009

In Biblical Interpretation, Church History, John Calvin, Sabbatical, Translating

“Don’t Panic” said the cover of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. I’m trying to remember that advice as I work on writing my paper for the Geneva Conference to be delivered bright and early on Wednesday morning, May 27. The fact that most people won’t be fully awake at that hour might give me some comfort, but apart from that, the fact that I have a mere three weeks before delivering the paper causes more than a few waves of panic in my heart. There is so much I need to read, digest, analyze, and translate…way too much. I need to relax, take a deep breath, and just start writing the main outlines of the paper, and fill in the blanks as I go along. My natural tendency toward perfectionism stands in the way of this method, but I have no other choice. Time is short. In fact, I really should be delivering a copy of my finished paper to the chair of the session by next Wednesday. Fat chance!

In any case, once begun is half done, so said someone. Someone who had no clue. Someone who obviously wasn’t an academic, because once one starts to research a topic, all sorts of information comes to the fore which one can then chase down, and that’s exactly what curious scholars like to do. I have no time to do that, so I have to force myself to leave those curious and inviting trails unexplored for the moment.

I have discovered a few things. One, that I can’t read Latin worth a hoot anymore, not that I ever could. It took me an entire day to read 350 words of Latin. Not only that, but I was reading it from a sermon that I said, in an article published some years ago, didn’t exist. It’s a very interesting sermon by Calvin on I Samuel 16. In verses 1-2, God tells Samuel to go and anoint David king over Israel instead of Saul. Samuel objects that Saul will kill him. The Lord says, tell him you’re going away to make a sacrifice. In other words, mislead Saul about what you are going to do. Or at least, don’t tell Saul the whole truth. I always wondered how Calvin would deal with that passage, and I wrote in an article that he never did…oops…he preached on this text, but I forgot about these particular sermons, in part because they were never translated into English, while the sermons on II Samuel were. There’s a lot of interesting stuff in this little snippet from the sermon, many fascinating, unexplored trails, but I have to stay on the main path: How does Calvin deal with acts of deception in the Old Testament–and even more challenging: how does he deal with apparent instances of God himself either deceiving or commanding someone to deceive?

Here’s the snippet:

“But here another question may be raised: How can God either command or permit the prophet to employ a charade (simulatio)? For certainly such pretense is a form of deception; yet God is most delighted in the truth. Should such pretending be seen as a trivial matter, given that God has permitted it? Here is the answer: Samuel was never given permission to lie, but only to dissimulate about what he wanted to do, but while still speaking the truth. And besides, there is a distinction between feigning and dissimulating. For the one who dissimulates conceals his purpose so it does not become public, whereas the one who feigns employs trickery and fraud in order to deceive someone, and this is not permitted to anyone. Dissimulation, on the other hand, that is, not revealing one’s intentions in full, can neither be condemned nor categorized as wrongdoing—unless of course the intention of such dissimulation is to deceive, in which case it is always to be censured. Neither is God taken in by such subtleties that so easily fool human beings. For this reason the dissimulator cannot be condemned in the human arena, although before God he may be guilty of deception, if his intention is to mislead. For example, if someone withholds information about his merchandise, namely that his goods are fake and counterfeit, he nonetheless cannot be proven guilty of deception, nor accused of having misrepresented one thing as something else—unless however he is dealing with a simple-minded person, who is unable to perceive the defect in the merchandise. In that case it is fraud, and before God it is considered an act of robbery. Thus we must always keep in mind the goal of one’s deliberations, and not get so stuck on the external appearance; and we should not employ sneakiness or subtleties, in which people in their wickedness have become accomplished experts, because they have no notion of what just and good; and God wants matters to be rightly judged according to what is fair and good, not by what is cunning and crafty.

Now then we must also consider what Samuel did. It is to be observed that he did not feign, but declared what was in fact the case: that he was going in order to make a sacrifice. Further, he did not mislead anyone, or deceive anyone; he did not use any sinister tricks, but submitted to God’s command. For it was not necessary for God’s purpose to be publically proclaimed, since for the time being God wished to keep it hidden. He desired that David’s anointing remain secret until the appropriate time when it should be made public. For this reason there is nothing reprehensible in the counsel that he followed that he should conceal the anointing under the pretext of a sacrifice, seeing that there was no deception behind it, and the end was good, nor did it amount to any fraud or deception. Rather God willed that the anointing of David be kept as a kind of secret deposit, as it were, and a kind of pledge to be diligently guarded. That, therefore, was the Lord’s counsel with respect to the anointing of David, which he accordingly did not want divulged by the prophet, but rather commanded to be concealed under the pretext of a sacrifice.”  Sermon 58 on I Samuel, Opera Calvini 30:161-162, my translation, subject to improvement.

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