“The greatest attention was paid to catechetical instruction, in the Netherlands. The duty was pressed upon heads of families. Schools were required to cooperate with the churches, in carrying the system into full effect. The pastors must preach on the Catechism every sabbath afternoon; besides visiting the schools frequently, and holding catechetical exercises, if possible once a week, in private houses. All pains were required to be taken, to secure in this way to old and young the benefit of religious knowledge” (J. W. Nevin, History and Genius of the Heidelberg Catechism(Chambersburg, 1847), 98).
Book Review: John Calvin’s American Legacy – Chapter 5 – “Falling away from the General Faith of the Reformation”? The Contest over Calvinism in Nineteenth-Century America
Chapter 4 review here. Chapter 3 review here. Chapter 2 review here. Chapter 1 review here. Introduction review here. Initial thoughts here.
Douglas A. Sweeney contributes the fifth chapter “Falling Away from the General Faith of the Reformation”? The Contest over Calvinism in Nineteenth-Century America, and it is an excellent read. The eye of Sweeney’s historical analysis is cast over nineteenth-century American Calvinism, an epoch referred to by D. G. Hart as being “the critical period for Protestant thought in America” (112). Sweeney does an excellent job of showing that to be the case, and then some.
The “bravado” of Princeton’s Charles Hodge is the nucleus of Sweeney’s article. Hodge was a gravitational center around which other Calvinistic views rotated, though not entirely planetary-like. Their paths did cross and collide; the hard molecules of the nineteenth-century German Reformed Mercersburg Theology and Congregationalist New England were frequently bumping in to the monolith of Hodge’s Presbyterian Princeton. Oftentimes historians allude to this refraction as evidence of Calvinism’s decline in nineteenth-century America. But Sweeney disagrees. He believes the opposite, that the nineteenth-century Calvinistic contentions are indicators of vitality. That they are evidence of livelihood, which Sweeney refers to throughout the article as a “contest”—thus Sweeney says, “the biggest question on their [American Calvinists] minds was not whetherAmerican Calvinism would live to see the future, but who would control that future—and on what terms” (113).
Sweeney’s article has two movements before his conclusion: first, the rock-n-roll of the Princeton/Mercersburg pen-wars; second, the refrain of the Princeton/Congregationalist pen-wars. According to Sweeney, the former controversy had to do with Hodge’s defamation of the metaphysical tweaking of Calvin’s thought done by John Nevin (who had been a former student of Hodge and actually subbed a couple years for him at Princeton while he traveled to the Continent), and the latter controversy hinged upon what Hodge viewed as a propensity within New England theology to develop a not fully biblical and doctrinally incorrect view of feelings and sentiments, and how that view related to the intellectual life of a Christian.
Hodge equally disapproved both groups; the former group (Mercersburg/John Nevin) for adjusting the form of Calvinism and the latter group (Congregationalist New England/Edwardsean theologians) for adjusting the substance of Calvinism. (Although Hodge would have probably said that Nevin was tweaking substance, too.) Sweeney provides a detailed narrative, he adds the occasional comment on Hodge’s inconsistencies and blind sights and/or ahistorical misreadings, but he does so while smoothly displaying his aim—to demonstrate that this was a Calvinistic “contest” and evidence of life and relevance.
Sweeney concludes magnificently; he bemoans those who analyze this data and conclude that there is no Calvinistic center, or those who conclude the opposite, a Hodge-bravado-styled-center (e.g., this is Calvinism!!!). Sweeney calls the two views “two extremes” (130). Instead, Sweeney posits that one should note that each of the three groups were conservative Calvinists who “wanted to be faithful to the best of their traditions”—and Sweeney’s last words are a warning: “The churchmen most committed to conserving their tradition lost the power to shape the story told of their movement in the academy—and lost it to the people they most frequently opposed. This is an irony that scholars today, whatever their traditions, would do well to recognize” (130).
My thoughts: insightful and compelling, particularly the word of warning at the conclusion. And I agree with the overall aim; yes, the intramural-theological spats are evidence of vitality. Just like the Federal Vision controversy today, Calvinism in America is alive, her blood is pumping and may her tribe increase.
Book Review: John Calvin’s American Legacy – Chapter 4 – Practical Ecclesiology in John Calvin and Jonathan Edwards
Chapter 3 review here. Chapter 2 review here. Chapter 1 review here. Introduction review here. Initial thoughts here.
“Practical Ecclesiology in John Calvin and Jonathan Edwards” by Amy Plantinga Pauw is the first chapter from Part II on Calvin’s legacy on American theology. Although Edwards was no carbon-copy of Calvin, Pauw emphasizes the “deep commonalities” between his and Calvin’s thinking, particularly their mutual ability to balance in the face of tensions that both “inclusiveness” and the “holiness” are chief attributes of church life and Christian living. Pauw, therefore, argues that because of this mutual practical ecclesiology, it is Edwards who should be considered the “rightful heir to Calvin’s theological legacy [in America].”
Reformed theology, particularly ecclesiology, creates the tension. Believers are told to remain in the Church, not because the Church magically ensures their election, but because by doing so they cling to God and his promises, and it is the church which is the society and communion of men and women struggling with and continually confessing sins that God has called out of and who are distinct and separate from the world.
Calvin emphasized the need for these individuals to grow and mature under the kind rule of their motherly church. This life of maturation, however, is not characterized by perfectionism. Holiness, yes. Death to sin, yes. But not perfectionism. On this point Pauw reminds us that Calvin thought that “the life of believers, longing constantly for their appointed state, is like adolescence” (95); Pauw elaborating that:
In the midst of turbulent spiritual emotions and repeated moral failures, Christians are to strive by God’s grace to grow into a mature life of gratitude and holiness. Portraying the earthly church as a mother not of helpless infants but of a large band of unruly adolescents better reflects both Reformed ecclesiology and Calvin’s and Edward’s pastoral experiences.
At the center of God’s “redemptive perseverance” is the visible church, warts and all. Pauw gives several illustrations to demonstrate that in many pastoral experiences Edwards (following Calvin) had to wrestle with the reality of the inclusiveness/holiness tension. The ongoing story of God’ redeeming work will certainly have its share of sorrows (as pastors in local churches teach, lead, serve and care for the “unruly adolescents”), however, these are all subplots to the metanarrative, the unsurpassed and unspeakable joy of living in union with Christ within the society of those who hold onto the promises of being raised unto newness in life because of the victory of his life, death, and resurrection.
The church is in God’s hands. Therefore, assurance can only be found in resting, that is, reposing in God’s good providence (even in the midst of the inclusiveness/holiness tension), and that is the practical ecclesiology which defines Calvin’ legacy in American theology and which was exhibited in John Edward’s life and practice.
My thoughts: this was the most readable chapter. And I thought Pauw was spot on describing Reformed ecclesiology. God does not kick people out of the family for their sins, rather he tells them to repent and confess their sins. Salvation is all of grace, always.
Pastors: Reminding Members – God is Father and Church is Mother
“I will begin with the Church, into whose bosom God is pleased to collect his children, not only that by her aid and ministry they may be nourished so long as they are babes and children, but may also be guided by her maternal care until they grow up to manhood, and, finally, attain to the perfection of faith. What God has thus joined, let not man put asunder (Mark x. 9): to those to whom he is a Father, the Church must also be a Mother” (John Calvin, The Institutes of the Christian Religion, trans. Henry Beveridge (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1989), Book IV.I.1.).
Douglas Wilson: Regeneration
Pastor Douglas Wilson here: “Loving your sin while loving Jesus is an exercise that the Bible calls kidding yourself.”
John Piper: Regeneration, Again – “Thrilled and Empowered”
“The new birth enables you to hear Scripture and use Scripture helpfully, redemptively. The new birth doesn’t use the promise “We have an Advocate” to justify an attitude of cavalier indifference to sin. The new birth doesn’t use the warning “No one born of God makes a practice of sinning” to pour gasoline on the fires of despair. The new birth brings a spiritual discernment that senses how to use John’s teachings: The new birth is chastened and sobered by the warnings, and the new birth is thrilled and empowered by the promise of an Advocate and a Propitiation” (John Piper, Finally Alive, 151).
Nevin: Reformation Thought, Again – Theology Wars
“The notable 80th Question proved a constant stench [Q. 80: What difference is there between the Lord’s supper and the popish mass?], in many nostrils. In some cases, when it was known that the minister was to preach upon this questions, troublesome persons would slip into the Church, for the purpose of creating interruption and disorder” (J. W. Nevin, History and Genius of the Heidelberg Catechism (Chambersburg, 1847), 92).
Nevin: Reformation Thought, Again – “Leading Symbol of the Church”
“In the Reformed Church, as thus prevailing in different principalities throughout Germany, various catechisms appeared, and secured to themselves a more or less extensive use. In the end however all of these were either cast aside, or sunk into a secondary rank; while the Catechism of the Palatinate attained to a sort of universal authority, as the leading symbol of the Church” (J. W. Nevin, History and Genius of the Heidelberg Catechism (Chambersburg, 1847), 90).
Book Review: John Calvin’s American Legacy – Chapter 3 – Implausible: Calvinism and American Politics
Chapter 2 review here. Chapter 1 review here. Introduction review here. Initial thoughts here.
D. G. Hart’s Implausible: Calvinism and American Politics wraps up the section on Calvin’s legacy in American society by examining historical evidence and providing surveys of the two disparate Calvinistic camps of thought on American politics, which he refers to as Libertarian Calvinists and Authoritarian Calvinists. After these historical examinations, Hart concludes that it is implausible—it is dubious—to claim that Calvinism was the source and root of American politics.
To set the stage Hart opens with a scene from 1898, Abraham Kuyper’s third lecture delivered on Calvinism at Princeton Theological Seminary, which was on the positive link between Reformed theology and personal liberty. Kuyper’s optimism is incredible—he not only believed that Calvinism was the source and root of all of the political goodness that had expanded across the Western hemisphere (as exemplified in his homeland, the Netherlands, and also in Great Britain and the United States), but, as Hart says, Kuyper “set his sights even higher” (66). How high exactly? Hart quotes Kuyper at length:
The fact remains that the broad stream of the development of our race runs from Babylon to San Francisco, through the five stadia of Babylonian-Egyptian, Greek-Roman, Islamitic [sic], Romanistic, and Calvinistic civilization, and the present conflict in Europe as well as in America finds it main cause in the fundament[al] antithesis between the energy of Calvinism which proceeds from the throne of God . . . and its caricature in the French Revolution, which proclaimed its unbelief in the cry of “No God no master.”
Hart calls Kuyper’s (and other like-minded academics) take on the matter a “rosy view of Calvinism’s contribution to the modern world” (67). In light of historical evidence, Hart does not think it is tenable to view and attribute the positive political advancements across the Western nations to Calvinistic thought.
Lest this rosy view sit on the reader’s mind too long, Hart quickly goes on to remind readers that the wide-spread credit given to Calvinism eventually turned to blame in the 1960s, however, Hart doesn’t dwell on those criticisms to advance his thesis, rather, he digs deeper into Calvinistic history in order to show that a “survey of Presbyterian advocates and critics of the liberties that became the standard fare of modern statecraft in the West” demonstrates that there always has been varying Calvinistic “perspectives.” Hart believes this enforces that the “effort to correlate politics with theology is never easy,” even going so far as to claim that the surveyed Calvinistic thought teaches, contrary to Kuyper, that the “the relationship between Calvinism and liberty, like that between Christianity and politics more generally, is fundamentally paradoxical” (66-67).
As I said earlier, Hart divides American Calvinists into two groups: Libertarian Calvinists and Authoritarian Calvinists. The former group is comprised of recognizable household names, e.g., John Witherspoon, Charles Hodge and Albert Barnes. This group believed Calvinism was the source of American and religious liberty. For example, Hodge “believed that the success of Presbyterian government was dependent on the same sorts of virtues that made republicanism tick” (70), both which he viewed as stemming from “scriptural liberty.” This view would eventually mature to the point that it might be encapsulated within the pithy phrase/slogan, “A free Church in a free State.” Many are familiar with Francis Schaeffer, whose thought and writings provided much fuel for the fires of political activism among conservative Christians during the “culture wars” of the 1980s—Hart lumps him among Libertarian Calvinists—although, kudos to Hart, he mentions that from Witherspoon to Schaeffer there certainly is a development, albeit one which essentially argues for the same outlook, namely, that the “American experiment of a republic based on limited government and civil liberty” is rooted in and indebted to Calvinistic thought. After surveying the Libertarian Calvinistic development in America, Hart then goes on to survey those Calvinists for whom a “free Church in a free State” would not have been considered very Calvinistic.
This latter group, the Authoritarian Calvinists, Hart introduces (foregoing name dropping) by noting that “practically every major confession from sixteenth-century Reformed or Presbyterianism churches affirmed that the civil magistrate was responsible for enforcing the true religion and had a duty to protect the true church” (77). Knowing that is key, for it means that civic and religious liberties are intertwined.
Originally, before America was a twinkling in the eye of all of the Framers, the Reformed consensus on the church/state relationship was antithetical to the current architecture of American statecraft. The Reformers clearly saw the magistrates (aka, the government) were responsible for enforcing the Lordship of Christ (true religion) as well as protecting the Church, which for most contemporary Americans would be an entirely foreign concept. Hart follows this Authoritarian thought from the Continent and traces it through Presbyterian History in America to its modern yet few expressions, like Christian reconstruction, or theonomy, and the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America.
Hart emphasizes that “the first Protestants did not have any conception of a religiously mixed society,” and that “practically no one linked civil and religious liberty the way that American Presbyterians did” (77), which helps readers realize that American Presbyterians truly broke from historical Presbyterianism on this issue. On the one hand, the civil magistrates are responsible for enforcing true religion, but on the other hand, the civil magistrates also had a duty to protect the true church, however, the American Presbyterian understanding of civic and religious liberty capitulated toward the latter portion of this dual-affirmation, and in doing so they turned the magistrate into merely a “nursing father” (protector) to the church. This view over time, maturing in a cultural space designated as “neutral” and “secular” obviously got watered down to, well, the America we know today. But how and why did American Libertarian Presbyterians do this?
Starting in 1729, American Presbyterians revised the Westminster Standards for the colonies. At the Synod, held in Philadelphia, reservations were taken regarding the Westminster Confession’s teaching on government, and by the revisions in 1788, as Hart says, “in one fell swoop, the American Presbyterian church swept away almost two centuries of Presbyterian politics” (80). The New World was thinking fundamentally different about politics and religion. The categories of thought had changed. The sphere of magistrate and the sphere of religion were distinct and meaningfully separated.
We know motives for doing this, worries about the state overstepping her bounds and meddling in religious affairs, etc., but the motives and reasoning laid aside, it is still remarkable and historically significant (and very intriguing) to understand that this was a revolution of sorts in Presbyterian thought. Still, Hart tries to keep the balance on the two views and reminds readers that “the contrast developed here between the libertarian and authoritarian wings of Reformed Protestantism may be stronger on paper than it has been in practice” (83).
And that very well may be true, but clearly the two Calvinist views are mutually exclusive. Yet, in order to bring some relief to the tension between the two, Hart appeals to Philip Benedict’s social history of the Reformation. Benedict argued that, contrary to Kuyper and Libertarian Calvinists, the roots of democratic/representative government (aka, the “American experiment”) can be found in the “feudal” shared experiences of Medieval decentralized society. Hart likes the sound of that. The historical events interpreted through that framework teach us that Calvinism is not a political/economic ideology or “orientation.” Therefore, Hart is confident concluding that the genesis of American statecraft is not Calvinism; American politics do not proceed from the throne of God.
My thoughts: Instead of spending time circumventing bickering Calvinists by attributing genesis of the thing opposed by the one group and promoted by the other group to the social memory and imagination shaped by shared experiences during the feudal and decentralized Middles Ages, I wish that Hart had addressed a very important question: Which Calvinistic view of American Politics (or politics in general) is harmonious with what the Bible teaches? Hart doesn’t really address the truth claims of one group over against the other’s view in relation to the political imperatives and narratives found in Scripture. Hart’s historical surveys are excellent, but I think not interacting with the historical witness in that type of fashion is a real shortcoming, although it may be outside the purview of an article for this type of editorial. Simply to say, after reading this chapter I thought to myself, “That was really interesting, but . . .”
Parental Joy – Sanctifying
A good day, indeed. My wife and I spent time after dinner watching our two-and-a-half-year-old son play his imaginary violin, using a wooden spoon as a bow. He played and danced; he pranced to Bach and John Willams while parental joy filled our hearts. Sometimes I think that parenting is sanctifying because of the sacrifice required, but this evening I know that parenting is also sanctifying because of parental joy.
This evening I have watched our son, and now I feel equipped even more so to “ride the eruption of Easter” (N. D. Wilson) and to revel in the thought of someday witnessing the child that shall play on the hole of the asp (Isa 11:8).