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Post by Admin on Apr 8, 2024 15:33:10 GMT -5
“He Descended into Hell”
Charles E. Hill
John R. Richardson Professor of New Testament and Early Christianity
Reformed Theological Seminary, Orlando
Editor’s Note – This is a manuscript for chapel address delivered at RTS Orlando in 2010, as part of a series of messages on the Apostles’ Creed.
I. The Dilemma of the Reformers
Perhaps ever since the Reformation, the clause, “he descended into hell” in the Apostles’ Creed has been perceived as problematic. Speaking of this period, David Bagchi says:
The doctrine of Christ’s descent into hell was unusual, and perhaps unique, in its ability to undermine and cut across confessional allegiances. Although Catholics, Lutherans and Reformed all contributed to the debate, it was a topic on which party lines shifted. In an era which we are used to thinking of as marked by confessional certainty, . . . [this is] an area of Christian doctrine in which the confessional compasses spun out of control.[1]
We do not find a consistent position on this article of the creed among the Reformed. The Heidelberg Catechism relates the descent to the “unspeakable anguish, pain, and terror of soul, especially on the cross but also earlier,” and it teaches that Christ “has delivered me from the anguish and torment of hell” (Q/A 44). This understands the article as having to do with torment, the torment of hell, but Christ’s suffering of this torment was all on or before the cross.
In his An Exposition of the Apostles’ Creed (1576), Caspar Olevianus (the co-author, thirteen years earlier, of the Heidelberg Catechism) seems to take a different view, explaining the descent as “not only the pains of death but also His utter disgrace – the seeming victory of those pains – while He was held down in the grave until the third day, lying, as it were, under the oppression of death.” The Westminster Larger Catechism takes the descensus in this way, explaining it to mean that after Christ was buried, he continued “in the state of the dead, and under the power of death till the third day; which hath been otherwise expressed in these words, He descended into hell” (Q/A 50). The Reformed did share a concern to say that all of Christ’s atoning suffering climaxed and came to a conclusion on the cross, that whatever happened afterwards was part of his humiliation, not part of his redeeming, atoning work, and not part of his glory, which awaited the third day.
All that the Reformed confessions say is true, biblical, and edifying. But can we say it is faithful to original intent of the creed? Olevianus rejects the doctrine of certain ancient Christian fathers, that Christ descended into hell to liberate the patriarchs and prophets of old, because it implied that sins were not forgiven before Christ’s sacrifice. This latter view may have been the doctrine of Rome at the time, but it was not the doctrine of the early fathers. And to many in the Reformed communities the idea that Christ went to the place where the patriarchs were (the so-called limbus patrum) to liberate them sounded too much like the twin of the purgatory doctrine. Olevianus says that the Devil “fabricated” limbo for the righteous of the OT, “just as he invented purgatory” for those who died after Christ.
The Reformer Theodore Beza dropped this article altogether. Some churches today have also dropped it from their recitation of the creed. And that option is open to us, for this creedal statement is not Scripture. It is not contained in the Nicene Creed or the Athanasian Creed. It is often pointed out that the earliest expressions of the creed do not have the clause. It is said to have been added at the Synod of Sirmium in 359.
Though not originally in the Apostles’ Creed, the idea goes back even earlier than the first known forms of the Creed. It was supported by a number of Biblical passages. One OT passage cited in the second century came from Jeremiah: “The holy Lord remembered His dead Israel, who slept in the land of sepulture; and He descended to them to make known to them His salvation, that they might be saved.” If the passage sounds unfamiliar, it is because it is not in our Bibles. Both Irenaeus (4.22.1)[2] and Justin cite it and Justin charges that the Jews had expunged it from their copies. In any case, we don’t have it in any copies.
Support for maintaining this article in our confession is beginning to sound flimsier and flimsier. Yet though Beza dropped it, Calvin did not, nor did the Heidelberg or the Westminster Standards. And so the clause remains in the confessional documents of the many contemporary Reformed bodies, including the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, the Presbyterian Church in America, and the United Reformed Churches in North America. What can we say about original intent, and is it possible to affirm this confession today?
II. The Biblical Teaching
The word “hell” in the Creed does not mean the place of eternal punishment, Gehenna of the New Testament, the lake of fire that burns forever. It is rather Hades, or the Old Testament Sheol. This word is used often as a synonym for death, or the grave, and is associated with the depths of the earth, or the depths of the sea. But usually it has the sense of the place of the dead, where there is some consciousness of the disembodied soul, and thus is not identical merely with “the grave”, the physical place where dead body is laid. The term is often contrasted with heaven. In Isaiah, the king of Babylon, who would exalt himself to heaven, to God’s throne, instead is told “you are brought down to Sheol, to the far reaches of the pit” (Isa 14:15 ESV). In the New Testament, Jesus threatens the same thing for the city of Capernaum.
In the Old Testament, while the experience of being in Sheol was different for the righteous as compared to the unrighteous (Luke 16.23 has the rich man “in torment” in Hades), all the dead – righteous and unrighteous – are found there. Righteous Jacob does not want his gray hairs to go down to Sheol in sorrow.
Second, the phrase “He descended into hell (Hades)” by itself means nothing more than this: that Christ went to the realm of the dead, that is, a spiritual realm. It is correlative to “He was crucified, dead, and buried.” Thus his descent into Hades has to do simply with his identification with the race of Adam. He truly experienced the reality of human death, the unnatural separation of body and soul and his soul’s presence in the realm of the dead.[3]
But of course the article itself does not say what, if anything, happened in Hades once Jesus got there. Just like every other element in the creed, it is merely a focal point that needs exposition. So what did it mean for those who originally confessed it, and what does it mean or should it mean for us?
My own views on this have been formed by my study of early Christian eschatology, and what I found surprised me. In Jewish eschatology of the intertestamental period, there is sometimes a fairly clear indication of the state of the dead. In The Book of the Watchers in 1 Enoch (second century BC) the spirits or souls of the dead are kept in three hollows – two for the wicked and one for the righteous – under a great and high mountain in the west. In the latter part of the first century AD, according to Josephus, the Pharisees, who represented the “leading” view among Jews, believe that “souls have power to survive death and that there are rewards and punishments under the earth (̔υπο χθονός) for those who have led lives of virtue or vice.”[4] The two apocalyptic works, 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra, written probably near the end of the first century and beginning of the second, just after the New Testament was written, each speak of the spirits or souls resting in chambers or treasuries of souls in Sheol where they await the resurrection of their bodies.
This is a pretty consistent picture from at least a very prominent strand or strands of Judaism. There were some Christians in the second and third centuries who latched onto this eschatology as they tried to accommodate into Christianity the Jewish view of a coming earthly kingdom of peace and plenty, which they thought would arrive after Jesus returned.
But if you approached a Jew on the streets of Jerusalem in Jesus’ day and asked: “If you were to die tonight, why should God let you into his heaven?” you would probably have heard: “God doesn’t let anyone into his heaven. You mean, ‘Why should God let me into the good section of Hades,’ don’t you?” The only people who dwelt in a part of heaven, Paradise, were those few individuals whom God had taken from earth before death: Enoch and Elijah, or maybe, so legend had it, the prophet Jeremiah, or perhaps Moses. These had eluded death. But their escape was only temporary. These privileged few would have to return in the last days to earth and die in the fight against God’s enemies – so complete is the sway that death holds over the children of Adam. Death reigned over all. Irenaeus (so right about so many other things) speaks of the “law of the dead”, to which even Jesus submitted. That is, that all the dead go to Hades and there they wait for the reunion with their bodies at the resurrection.
When I turned to the New Testament (and to most of the early Christian writers who wrote in its wake), I found a radical break with this eschatology. No longer are the saints in Sheol/Hades, in subterranean chambers or treasuries of souls. Rather, they are in the very presence of God in heaven, in the heavenly Jerusalem, with the angels in festal gathering (Heb. 12.22), under the altar (Rev. 6.9), or standing before the throne (Rev. 7.9) or standing beside the sea of crystal (Rev. 15.2).
What is the explanation for this? Some would say it is due to a process of Hellenization which is thought to have affected Christianity. It is thought that Christianity moved away from the monistic or unified anthropology of the Hebrews, in which body and soul or spirit are said to be inseparable aspects of man. Instead, the Church is said to have adopted the Platonic or general Greek conception of man, which conceives of man as a duality of body and soul. Therefore, the soul could be freed from the body and go off to heaven, leaving the body to this earth. But this analysis is misguided. Even in the OT, Scripture conceives of the dead as existing in some sort of conscious state, apart from the body which is decaying in the earth (think of Samuel appearing to Saul – or the rich man and Lazarus). And certainly in intertestamental Judaism the same is explicitly the case, as we have seen.
No, it was not Hellenization but something else which was responsible for this sweeping change. What divides Christianity from Pharisaic and apocalyptic Judaism is, first, the fact that the long-awaited Messiah of Israel has come and has accomplished his mission! He was brutally murdered by his enemies, but his death had atoning power for the sins of his people. And though he died, Hades and the power of death could not hold him!
We have a Savior who has done what no one had done before, not Enoch who walked with God, not Abraham the friend of God, not Moses, faithful in all God’s house, not Joshua who gave them rest, not Samson the strong, not David the triumphant king, not Elijah the chariot-rider, not Judas Maccabaeus the Hammer. We have a Savior who has entered death’s realm and has conquered it, who has bound the strong man and spoiled his goods, who has risen and ascended to the throne of glory.
And his conquest of the devil and death was not for himself alone. The second reason for the great change in eschatology is that our Savior prayed to his Father, “Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world” (John 17:24 ESV). There is now a bond of union between Christ and his people, a bond which even death cannot sever. And so, the most important, most momentous thing about the NT conception of the intermediate state of the believer is not so much that it is heavenly as opposed to being subterranean. It is that it is centered on our union with Christ. When the dying thief implored Jesus to remember him, Jesus said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise” (Lk 23:43). Paradise is here promised not to one who did not die (as was thought to have been the case for Enoch and Elijah), but to one whose imminent death was obvious. Yet it is not just being in Paradise that day that is promised. The penitent thief would be in Paradise with his Savior.
For Paul too, the significance of departure from this life is that it is to be with Christ. He tells the Philippians, “I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better” (Phil 1:23). He tells the Corinthians that he would rather be “away from the body and at home with the Lord” (2 Cor. 5.6).
And so, blessed are the dead who die in the Lord henceforth! But what about those who have gone before? Christ’s defeat of death, and of him who had the power of death, must also have repercussions for those saints who longed for his day but did not live to see it. And this is what the early church realized. In the second century, Melito of Sardis preached,
By the cross death is destroyed,
and by the cross salvation shines;
By the cross the gates of hell are burst,
and by the cross the gates of paradise are opened.
The cross has become the way of saints and martyrs;
the cross has become the chain of the apostles
and the shield of faith of prophets.[5]
Melito pictures Christ saying:
I am he who destroyed death
and triumphed over the enemy
and tread down Hades
and bound the strong one
and bore man away to the heights of heaven.[6]
About the year 200, Hippolytus wrote in his Commentary on Daniel,
Therefore as many as Satan swallowed and bound, these the Lord, when he came, loosed from the bonds of death, having bound him who was “strong” against us, but having set humanity free. As also Isaiah says, “then he will say to those [men] in chains, ‘Come out!’ and to those in darkness, ‘Be enlightened!’” (Isa. 49.9). [7]
A few decades later, citing Christ’s binding of the strong man in Matt. 12.29, Origen wrote,
First therefore he bound him at the cross, and thus he has entered his house, that is, Hades (infernum), and from there “ascending on high, he led captivity captive” (Ps. 68.18; Eph. 4.8), those certainly who with himself are co-resurrected and have entered the holy city, heavenly Jerusalem” (cf. Matt. 27.52-3). [8]
III. Rethinking the Clause
The clause “he descended into hell” may have been added to the creed in the fifth century, but it was the faith of the church for centuries before that. And if you are having trouble because you think a change in the status of the departed saints is not taught explicitly in the New Testament, consider this. The author of Hebrews in chapter 11, after recounting the faith of those who pleased God in generations past, says, strikingly, “And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, [“what was promised” refers to the promise of the heavenly country, a heavenly city, as 11.11, 13-16 make plain] since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect (ἵνα μὴ χωρὶς ἡμῶν τελειωθῶσιν )” (Heb 11:39-40).
But then in the very next chapter he proclaims,
But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect (καὶ πνεύμασι δικαίων τετελειωμένων), and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel. (Heb 12:22-24)
These spirits of the just are now perfected, and have received the promise of the better country, the heavenly one, the city that has foundations, whose builder and maker is God.
What has intervened? Of course, what has intervened and what has “perfected” them is that Christ has offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins. For by that single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified (10.12-14).
And what brings them to heaven is their union with the one who is now in heaven. He has “tasted death for everyone” (2.9) and then passed through the heavens (4.14), to the heavenly Mt. Zion, into the heavenly temple, and through the greater and more perfect tent, not made with hands (9.11), entering once for all into the holy of holies by means of his own blood. The saints of old have now received what was promised! They are in the heavenly city, and now surround the throne.
And we now have fellowship with them even in this life, as we become imitators of those who by faith and patience inherit the promises. Yes, in Christ, they have inherited the promises – the presence of God in his heavenly city, with Christ! This is the victory Christ has achieved for us.
Christ descended into Hades so that you and I would not have to. Christ descended to Hades so that we might ascend to heaven. Christ entered the realm of death, the realm of the strong enemy, and came away with his keys. The keys of Death and Hades are now in our Savior’s hands. And God his Father has exalted him to his right hand, and given him another key, the key of David, the key to the heavenly Jerusalem. He opens and no one will shut, he shuts and no one will open (Rev. 3.7). And praise to him, as the hymn says, “For he hath op’ed the heavenly door, and man is blessed forever more.”
All praise and honor and glory to the Lamb who has conquered! “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord henceforth” (Rev. 14.13). And blessed are we here and now, who even now have this hope, and a fellowship with our Savior which is stronger than death! Thanks be to God. Amen.
David Bagchi, “Christ’s Descent into hell in Reformation Controversy” in Peter Clarke and Tony Claydon, eds., The Church, the Afterlife and the Fate of the Soul. Papers Read at the 2007 Summer Meeting and the 2008 Winter Meeting of the Ecclesiastical History Society (Woodbridge, Suffolk: Boydell, for the Ecclesiastical History Society, 2009), 228-47 (at 230?). ↑
Irenaeus also refers to Eph. 4.9 here, “He also descended into the lower parts of the earth”. ↑
Clearly this means in his spirit or soul, not his body – against the Lutherans. See 1 Peter 3.18-19. ↑
Ant. xviii.14. ↑
Peri Pascha 24-30. ↑
PP 102, ll. 760-64. ↑
CD IV.33.4 ↑
CRom. V.10 ↑
Volume 1 Issue 2
September 2016 | 119 pages
BACK TO ISSUE
Other Articles in This Issue
“He Descended into Hell”
Pauline Parenesis
Aquinas and Calvin on Predestination: Is There Any Common Ground?
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Other Reviews in This Issue
Introducing Biblical Hermeneutics: A Comprehensive Framework for Hearing God in Scripture
The Whole Christ: Legalism, Antinomianism, and Gospel Assurance – Why the Marrow Controversy Still Matters
The Pastor’s Book: A Comprehensive Guide to Pastoral Ministry
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Copyright © 2017 Reformed Theological Seminary
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Post by Admin on Apr 8, 2024 15:35:30 GMT -5
Aquinas and Calvin on Predestination: Is There Any Common Ground?
Francis B. Cavalli
Senior Pastor
St. Paul’s Presbyterian Church, Orlando, Florida
I. INTRODUCTION
While Catholics and Protestants have long disputed the primary authority of Scripture, the doctrine of justification, and the nature of the sacraments, a comparison of viewpoints on the doctrine of predestination has received little attention in contemporary studies.[1] Although no uniform position on predestination exists among Catholic theologians, Thomas Aquinas’s discussion in his Summa Theologiae, Summa contra Gentiles, and New Testament commentaries provides a framework for exploring this doctrine from a Catholic perspective.[2] It is unfortunate that conservative Protestants have essentially dismissed Thomas and seemingly everyone else associated with Medieval Catholicism, failing to appreciate the theologians whom, to varying degrees, embraced an Augustinian interpretation of Paul and his emphasis on grace (e.g., Gottschalk, Thomas Bardwardine, Gregory of Rimini). Since Thomas holds such a prominent place in Catholic theology it is crucial his position on predestination and its soteric implications be clearly understood. Who determines our ultimate destiny? Is election unconditional? Those in the Reformed tradition may find that Thomas offers some surprising answers.
The purpose of this paper is to offer a manageable exposition of Thomas’s teaching on predestination followed by a comparison of views with John Calvin, the Reformer principally associated with this doctrine.[3] Although Calvinism is a minority report within Protestantism, it is far closer to a Thomistic view of predestination than alternative Protestant conceptions and consequently provides greater opportunity to discuss areas of commonality between Catholics and Protestants on this controversial but critical doctrine. Such comparative studies are worthwhile as Thomism and scholasticism continue to yield academic interest. Some have suggested that the resurgence of interest in scholasticism, especially in Reformed scholasticism, has in turn reformed our views of scholasticism.[4] One need not embrace the natural theology or sacerdotalism of Thomas to appreciate his influence on Vermigli, Zanchi, Perkins, Owen, Turretin, Mastricht and others. With some anti-scholastic bias now removed due to the collective study of Protestant Orthodoxy, it is worth giving Thomas a closer look, particularly on dogmas where he has received less attention. This essay endeavors to bring clarity to Thomas’s teaching as a mainstream Augustinian on the doctrines of providence, predestination, election, reprobation, and double predestination.[5] His views will then be compared and contrasted with Calvin’s position.[6]
II. AQUINAS’S DOCTRINE OF PREDESTINATION
1. Providence and Predestination
Since Thomas considers predestination a subset of providence, one must have a basic grasp of his doctrine of providence before delving into the particulars of predestination.[7] For Thomas, the providence of God provides the conceptual framework to understand his activity in the world and the reason why things are ordained to their end.[8] He distinguishes between providence as the rationale for an orderly end and government as the execution of that order.[9] The former is eternal, the latter temporal.[10] The finis ultimus is determined according to the counsel of God’s will implying certainty and deliberate action.[11] That which is conceived in his intellect he infallibly wills to be done. We may differentiate between these two faculties but “in God will and intellect are the same.”[12] Because God is the first efficient cause of every contingent being Thomas asserts: “we are bound to profess that divine Providence rules all things.”[13] If one thing is caused by another particular thing, nothing can avoid being determined by a universal cause.[14] Since even man’s free will has its cause in God, “whatever men freely do on their own falls under God’s providence.”[15] The invincible power of Deity does rule out secondary causes, for they are the means of carrying out his eternal purpose.[16] Divine providence does not impose necessity on all things. Events in time and space may happen contingently or through necessity, but either way they happen inevitably.[17] Although God is not the sole cause of all that occurs, he is the supreme cause and by his providence and government our destiny and the end of all creation is realized.
Thomas addresses the whole question of predestination in the ST only after having established the doctrine of providence and principle of predilection (i.e., to regard one thing better than another because God wills it to be a greater good).[18] Since God determines the end of all things and bestows more favor on some, predestination follows quite naturally. These two concepts, providence and predilection, are integrated into his concept of predestination. He defines predestination as, “The planned sending of a rational creature to the end which is eternal life.”[19] Because God governs all things and operates in all his creatures one must conclude that if any are to enjoy eternal life it is because God has predestined them from eternity.[20] Hence, predestination is considered a subset of providence for two reasons: “because direction to an end…pertains to providence, and because providence…includes a relation to the future.”[21] One might say predestination is “providence for men and women in the order of grace.”[22] In his love, God elects some individuals to freely receive eternal life and foreordains them to this glorious end. Thomas reasons as follows:
…predestination, as we have said, is part of Providence, which is like prudence, as we have noticed, and is the plan existing in the mind of the one who rules things for a purpose. Things are so ordained only in virtue of a preceding intention for that end. The predestination of some to salvation means that God wills their salvation. This is where special and chosen loving comes in.[23]
The teaching of Aquinas on predestination follows along Augustinian lines.[24] The rejection and damnation of the wicked is addressed, but the focus remains on the salvation and glorious end of the righteous. Both Augustine and Aquinas stress the primacy of grace in their treatment of predestination. The destiny of the elect is a certainty within the scope of God’s immutable will, but the predestined require the gift of perseverance to remain faithful until the end.[25] One particular variation worth noting is their starting point. Whereas the fall and the depravity of man governs Augustine’s discussion of predestination, Thomas works out his doctrine by way of causality from the nature and will of God. They arrive at similar conclusions but adopt different emphases and methodologies. Thomas’s doctrine of predestination can be explored under four main headings: its explanation (cause), effect, extent, and end.
The explanation or cause of predestination is the sovereign will of God alone. This is a recurring theme in this portion of the ST and his Commentary on Ephesians.[26] Thomas maintains, “Predestination is not anything in the predestined, but only in him who predestines.”[27] The reason anything is foreordained to its end lies in God.[28] From all eternity God has preconceived the idea of ordaining some to salvation.[29] In the Summa contra Gentiles, he contends predestination has no cause in human merit but precedes all merit.[30] The ground of predestination does not depend on merit resulting from its effect. God does not confer grace on individuals he knows will use it well. Even these effects are due to grace and it is obvious that an effect cannot simultaneously be the reason for its cause.[31] The Scriptures do speak of divine foreknowledge, but when Paul says, “the ones he foreknew he also predestined” (Rom. 8:29), we are to understand that God cannot predestine them unless he foreknows them, not that all the ones foreknown are predestined.[32] As he explains in his Commentary on Romans: “to claim that some merit on our part is presupposed, the foreknowledge of which is the reason for predestination, is nothing less than to claim that grace is given because of our merits.”[33] God saves us in the same manner he predestines us: “Not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to his mercy…” (Titus 3:5). Therefore, the foreknowledge of human merit cannot be the motive of predestination.[34] The will of God is the efficient cause of predestination and his will has no outside (human) cause, “but is the first cause of everything else.”[35]
The effects of divine predestination are grace and glory.[36] Logically, there is an order in God’s decree as we apprehend it. God appoints the end before he appoints the means. Accordingly, Thomas posits predestination to glory prior to predestination to grace.[37] God not only wills the end, but the grace to bring the elect to this end. Reflecting the influence of Aristotle, predestination is portrayed as a series of causes and effects with God as the first cause and eternal life as the final effect.[38] God ordains a particular effect as meritorious of another, so that virtuous acts performed under grace culminate in eternal life. Even though Thomas insists that merit has no part in God’s choice of elect, it does have a role in the implementation of his plan: “God pre-ordains that he will give glory because of merit, and also pre-ordains that he will give grace to a person in order to merit glory.”[39] In other words, “The elect are given grace to earn glory.”[40] Commenting on Thomas’s system Wawrykow writes: “…while insisting that the entire salvific process, including its end in God, is the gift of God and the mark of God’s special love, it also allows room for merit. The elect, by God’s grace, earn through their good acts done in the state of grace the end of eternal life.”[41] For Thomas, even human merit itself is the result of God’s grace.[42] In O’Meara’s judgment, “What predestination announces, a world of grace, is the great theme of the ST.”[43]
For Thomas, the elect are not passive bystanders but active participants in the working out of their salvation. They are to be diligent in prayer and good deeds for in this way the effect of predestination is fulfilled.[44] This is not achieved through self-effort. The one infused with grace needs additional grace to live rightly.[45] Even after one is justified by grace the recipient must ask God for the gift of perseverance to persist in good until the end. As Thomas says, “For there are many to whom grace is given, to whom it is not given to persevere in grace.”[46] This is not to suggest that individuals actually predestined can perish. God’s “…particular elective decree could never be fully thwarted by contingent secondary causality as could his providential one.”[47] Man’s free choice, as a proximate cause of salvation, can fail but God’s will as the first cause cannot. Nothing can resist the divine will, so whether things happen necessarily or contingently, they happen the way God intends.[48] The ordinance of predestination does not exclude freedom of choice, but since God’s will is infallibly efficacious, he works so as to fulfill his eternal decree while still persevering one’s free will.[49]
The extent of predestination is twofold. First, it applies to rational creatures who alone are capable of enjoying a loving relationship with God (i.e., humans and angels).[50] Second, it is a fixed number that can neither be increased nor decreased.[51] It is not a merely a sum of a billion unspecified members. Rather, the predestined are certain individuals especially ordained to be saved by God’s “own defining decision and choice.”[52] In one place Thomas suggests that number of the elect is equivalent to the quantity of angels who fell from heaven to compensate for their loss.[53] Elsewhere, he is ambiguous and considers it best that the question be left undecided for only God knows the exact number. Whatever the sum total, it represents the minority of the human race. The majority fall short of eternal life.[54]
According to Thomas, predestination has both a human and divine end. Humanly speaking it is the vision of God in heaven, otherwise known as the beatific vision. The end ordained for the elect is eternal life forever beholding the face of God. This is the glorious hope of the believer. It should be noted that predestination has little or no practical end for the Christian in Thomas’s view. He does not regard a personal knowledge of predestination as a source of comfort or assurance in this life. This is only granted to some by special dispensation. If it were revealed to all, the non-elect would fall into despair and the elect would tend toward negligence.[55] If experiencing God’s glory is the human end, extolling God’s glory is the divine end.[56] Commenting on Ephesians 1:6a Thomas writes, “Unto the praise of the glory of his grace specifies the final cause which is that we may praise and know the goodness of God.”[57] It is his pleasure that we know his goodness and then out of this knowledge to praise him for it.[58] God does all things for the sake of his goodness that his goodness might be reflected in things.[59] The All-Sufficient One needs nothing but is worthy of everything. Since predestination has no cause but in God alone, “the only motive for God’s predestinating will is to communicate the divine goodness to others,” and consequently to receive endless glory.[60]
2. Election
For Thomas, election is distinguished from predestination. The former refers to God’s gracious choice, the latter to man’s appointed end ordained from eternity. Predestination presupposes election and election, love.[61] This is evident from the very nature of predestination, for something cannot be ordained to an end unless the end has already been determined. Consequently, the fact some are predestined to eternal life means that God had previously willed their salvation. This involves election since God wills this good for some and not for others.[62] Unlike the universal goodness of God expressed toward the entire human race, election is the particular bestowal of grace and glory to certain individuals. While it is true that God wills that all men be saved antecedently, he does not will this consequentially.[63] As Paul testifies in Romans 9:22-23, reprobation and election serve to vindicate God’s justice and manifest his goodness.[64] But this is only part of the answer. Like Paul and Augustine, Thomas does not attempt to explain what lies behind God’s choice.
God wills to manifest his goodness in men, in those whom he predestines in the manner of mercy by sparing them, in those whom he reprobates in the manner of justice by punishing them. This provides a key to the problem why God chooses some and rejects others…Why does he choose some to glory while others he rejects? His so willing is the sole ground. Augustine says, Wherefore he draws this one and not that one, seek not to decide if you wish not to err.[65]
In his annotations on Ephesians 1:4, Thomas lists four advantages of this blessed election: it is free, eternal, fruitful, and gratuitous.[66] It is free because the spiritual blessings we experience in Christ come as a result of God’s choosing us, quoting John 15:16: “You have not chosen me; but I have chosen you.” God “freely foreordained us” in him. This choice is eternal because it occurred before the foundation of the world.[67] Election is fruitful in that it produces the fruit of holiness. God chose us not because we were holy, but in order that “we should be holy in virtues and unspotted by vices.”[68] Holiness is the fruit not the root of election. Divine election is gratuitous since we were chosen to be “holy and unspotted in his sight in charity.”[69]
Divine love or charity is the wellspring of election. God chooses to will eternal life for some in preference to others because he wills this good out of his love.[70] It should be understood that election and dilection do not operate the same way in God as they do in us. We love for the good we find in someone. In our case; “our choice precedes our loving” and does not cause the object of our affections to be good. With God the opposite is true. When he wills good to those he loves he produces good in them. “Clearly, then,” Thomas concludes, “God’s special loving logically precedes that of his choosing.”[71] For Thomas, to love is essentially to will a person good. Nevertheless, there are degrees of love.[72] In one sense God loves all his creatures “insofar as they exist, for their existing is his love in operation.”[73] Divine charity extends to all men, “in that he wills some good for every one of them. But he does not will every good for everyone.”[74] Thomas would concur with Packer’s turn of phrase: “God loves all in some ways and he loves some in all ways.”[75] He does not love all equally. Members of his only begotten Son are loved more fully, not necessarily with greater intensity, but by the fact that God wills them the greater good of eternal life.[76] This differentiation is not unjust. As Thomas notes, “we cannot complain of unfairness if God prepares unequal lots for equals…He who grants by grace can give freely as he wills, be it more be it less, without prejudice to justice, provided he deprives no one of what is owing.”[77] If every sinner received his due all would be condemned. God is under no obligation to extend grace to anyone. The Lord is “merciful to those whom he delivers, just to those whom he does not deliver, but unjust to none.”[78] Therefore, it is his divine prerogative to bestow mercy on whomever he chooses. Since God’s elective grace is undeserved it is unconditional, for nothing freely given can simultaneously be earned or based on foreseen merit.[79]
3. Reprobation and Damnation
Reprobation, like predestination, is a part of providence since by God’s providence men are guided to their final destination.[80] For Thomas, reprobation is God’s “will to permit someone to fall into fault and to inflict the penalty of damnation in consequence.”[81] Reprobatio includes the idea of damnatio. As a result of God’s dereliction people are left to themselves and eternally punished for their demerits. Those deprived of saving grace are said to be hated by God. In support of this assertion Thomas cites Malachi 1:2 both in the ST and the CG, “I loved Jacob, but hated Esau.”[82] Some are guided to their last end with the aid of grace, while others deprived of this grace fall from their last end.[83] According to Thomas, this distinction has been ordained by God from eternity.[84] We should not inquire as to the reason why God permits some men to go their own way, for ultimately this depends on his “sheer will.” It is similar to God’s acts in creation. When by divine fiat he made all things ex nilhio he created some with greater dignity. As the apostle declares, this is his right: “Hath not the potter power over the clay, to make of the same lump one vessel unto honor and another unto dishonor?” (Rom. 9:21).[85]
While God’s rejection permits individuals to fall, the non-elect are fully responsible for their sin. Thomas is adamant that God is not the cause of iniquity; the guilt lies with man. Whereas predestination is the cause of both future glory and present grace for the predestined, reprobation is not the cause of sin which proceeds from the reprobate.[86] Reprobation, therefore, is not symmetrical with predestination. Everything related to man’s salvation, both the end and the means, “is entirely comprised in predestination as a total effect.”[87] Whereas God wills the final end of the reprobate, he does not cause their sin which secures their perdition. The defect lies with the proximate agent, not the prime agent. One limps because of a defect in his bone or tendon, not on account of the power of mobility. Likewise, the proximate agent of sin is the human will. This defect is not from God who as the prime agent and source of all good can never be the cause of evil.[88] “Hence although one whom God reprobates cannot gain grace, nevertheless the fact that he flounders in this or that sin happens of his own responsibility.”[89]
Thomas recognizes that there are passages in Scripture that seem to suggest God causes some men to sin.[90] For instance in Exodus 10:1 God says, “I have hardened the heart of Pharaoh and his servants.” Then in Romans 1:28 Paul writes, “God delivered them over to a reprobate sense, to do those things which are not seemly.” What these passages mean for Thomas is that “God does not bestow on some the help for avoiding sin which He bestows on others.”[91] This help includes the infusion of grace, providential safeguards from occasions of sin, and the natural light of reason. When God withdraws these aids, warranted by the evil acts of men, it may be said that he hardens or blinds them.[92] Sin does not originate with God. Indeed, it is impossible for God to cause anyone to sin.[93] In the case of Pharaoh, “God orders the malice, but does not cause it.”[94] Just as the sun illumines all bodies, but leaves them in darkness if encountered by an obstacle, so the reprobate are the cause of their own darkness by creating an obstacle to the illumination of God in the soul. Commenting on Romans 9:18 “…he hardens whom he wills,” Thomas reiterates that God does not harden “by inserting malice, but by not affording grace.”[95]
Why God chooses one and not the other can only be attributed to the divine will and thus remains a mystery. Even so, Thomas attempts to provide some justification for reprobation. He believes it is necessary to maintain balance in the created order. He writes, “Thus for the completeness of the universe diverse grades of beings are required, some of high degree and some of humble.”[96] God created diverse creatures to manifest his nature in diverse ways.[97] And yet he never spells out why the balance of the universe requires that the majority of humanity fall short of salvation.[98] Although it may be true that “many good things would be lacking in the world” without the entrance of evil, Thomas works from the presupposition that these moral gradations are essential to creation.[99] As James observes, “…taken to its logical conclusion, the moral matrix of the universe seemingly has ultimate priority.”[100] Thomas offers a more fitting explanation based on Romans 9:22-23: God chooses some and rejects others to make his mercy appear in the elect and his justice in the reprobate.[101] In order to manifest both of these attributes “he mercifully delivers some, but not all.”[102] He does not permit men to fall into sin because he takes pleasure in damning the wicked, but for the manifestation of his perfect justice.[103] It is against the backdrop of God’s wrath that the value and efficacy of divine grace is displayed.[104]
4. Double Predestination
Whereas single predestination affirms God’s special election of some while the rest are passed over, double predestination holds that reprobation is a positive decree of God. God determines, without respect to demerit, to reject some and damn them for their sins to demonstrate his justice. Whether Thomas embraced gemina praedestinatio is subject to debate, but there is a degree of tension in his view. On the one hand, he suggests man is at fault for presenting an obstacle to grace.
For God on His part is ready to give grace to all men: He wills all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth (1 Tim. ii, 4). But they alone are deprived of grace, who in themselves raise an obstacle to grace. So when the sun lights up the world, any evil that comes to a man who shuts his eyes is counted his own fault, although he could not see unless the sunlight first came in upon him.[105]
On the other hand, Thomas claims the distinction between human beings lies ultimately with God’s eternal foreordination.
Since it has been shown that by the action of God some are guided to their last end with the aid of grace, while others, bereft of that same aid of grace, fall away from their last end; and at the same time all things that are done by God are from eternity foreseen and ordained by His wisdom, as has also been shown, it needs must be that the aforesaid distinction of men has been from eternity ordained of God… But those to whom from eternity He has arranged not to give grace, He is said to have ‘reprobated,’ or ‘hated,’ according to the text: I have loved Jacob, and hated Esau (Malach. i, 2).[106]
God’s decision to withhold grace from eternity suggests the choice is made irrespective of the reprobate’s refusal of grace. Elsewhere Thomas writes, “It should not be supposed this rejection is temporal, because nothing in the divine will is temporal; rather, it is eternal.”[107] The reason God is merciful to some is assigned to his absolute will.[108] The reason he hardens others exceeds our comprehension.[109] The resolution appears to lie in Thomas’s belief that God makes his eternal choice toward a fallen humanity. Thus, all deserve wrath and only some are afforded grace. God makes, “from the same spoiled matter of the human race” vessels unto honor and others unto dishonor.[110] Ultimately, sinners are culpable for their present corruption which ends in judgment. Reprobation does not cause this condition, but it is “why we are left without God.”[111] Thomas insists, “The fault starts from the free decision of the one who abandoned grace and is rejected, so bringing the prophecy to pass, Your loss is from yourself, O Israel.”[112] Throughout his corpus Thomas lays stress on the reprobate’s refusal of grace, thereby removing any possible blame on God’s part for their miserable end.
III. SIMILARITIES AND DIFFERENCES WITH CALVIN ON PREDESTINATION
1. Providence and Predestination
In the writings of Aquinas and Calvin the doctrines of providence and predestination are closely related but approached differently. Thomas examines predestination under providence while Calvin, in his early writings, treats providence from predestination.[113] In the first edition of Calvin’s Institutes (1536), providence is expounded in connection with belief in God the Father, whereas predestination is not discussed as an independent doctrine.[114] Calvin included a separate chapter On the Predestination and Providence of God (De pradestinatione and providentia Dei) in the 1539 edition. This was written in conjunction with Calvin’s preparation of his Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans.[115] In this expanded version, an exposition of predestination precedes providence. Predestination pertains to our appointed end and providence to the divine ordering of things past, present, and future.[116] In a sermon on Job he writes: “Let us note that God has decreed for us what he means to make of us in regard to the eternal salvation of our souls, and then he has decreed it also in respect of this present life.”[117] Like Thomas, Calvin believed everything is encompassed in the divine will; nothing takes place outside God’s deliberation.[118]
In the definitive edition of the Institutes (1559), Calvin returns providence to its location under the doctrine of God in Book I and places predestination in Book III as part of soteriology.[119] Logically, predestination should precede a study of the application of grace for it is the ground of salvation, but Calvin treats it after the doctrines of justification and sanctification. By placing it in this context Calvin calls attention to its relation to redemption in Christ.[120] According to McGrath, “The context relates to the efficacy of the gospel proclamation…The primary function of the doctrine of predestination is to explain why some individuals respond to the gospel, and others do not.”[121] This represents a different emphasis than Aquinas: “Thomas’s view of providence and predestination is an exposition of the rational understanding of God’s causality and Calvin’s is an exposition of man’s experience of God’s care.”[122] It is often claimed that Calvin’s doctrine of predestination is the center of his theology, but this is hard to reconcile with the fact that the final edition of the Institutes only contains four chapters out of eighty related to election. Muller offers a more balanced perspective: “Rather than call predestination the central dogma of Calvin’s system, we recognize its importance within a larger complex of soteriological motifs. Within that complex it functioned as the keystone of a doctrinal arch, having a unitive significance within the structure of Calvin’s thought.”[123]
The similarities between Aquinas and Calvin on the doctrine of predestination far outweigh their differences. Both affirm the absolute freedom and sovereignty of God’s will. According to Thomas, God’s will has no outside cause “but is the first cause of everything else.”[124] Similarly, it is unimaginable for Calvin that anything should precede the will of God as if he were bound to external factors, for we are to seek no cause outside his will.[125] This does not rule out secondary causes in the execution of the divine decree, but the ordained purpose of God “excludes… the contingency that depends upon men’s will.”[126] It is confusing to suggest God elects and rejects according to his foresight of men’s choices, for God foresees what he has determined.[127] Calvin finds the explanation for predestination in the divine will alone.[128] He defines predestination as “God’s eternal decree, by which he compacted with himself what he willed to become of each man. For all are not created in equal condition; rather, eternal life is foreordained for some, eternal damnation for others. Therefore, as any man has been created to one or the other of these ends, we speak of him as predestined to life or death.”[129] Just as the Lord distinguished Israel from other nations, he makes a distinction between men by predestinating some.[130] Calvin frequently appeals to Jacob and Esau as an example of God’s differentiating grace. As twins they were equal but God’s judgment was different.[131] Thus, “we are to look for no higher cause than the goodness of God [in the salvation of the elect] and no higher cause in the destruction of the reprobate than His just severity.”[132]
Like Thomas, Calvin believes foreknowledge ought to be distinguished from predestination. Those who claim God foresees from our conduct who is worthy or unworthy abjure “the first principle of theology” which recognizes that there is nothing in sinners to induce God to bestow his favor.[133] Since the entire race of Adam is “accursed…and altogether rotten” there is no goodness in man to foresee.[134] Foreknowledge refers to God’s knowledge of all things as if they were perpetually before his face, but predestination is his eternal decree by which he decided what would become of each man.[135] This distinction is vital if we are to safeguard the gratuitous nature of election.[136]
Calvin’s exclusion of merit in God willing us glory is paralleled by an exclusion of merit in attaining glory. God does not give the elect grace in order to merit glory. Good works flow from a regenerate heart but are not meritorious in any way.[137] All is ascribed to God and nothing is left to the industry of man.[138] Calvin could not avoid the fact that Augustine and Bernard of Clairvaux, both of whom he deeply admired and quoted extensively, taught that the reception of grace leads to the acquisition of merit essential for salvation.[139] There was no argument about the absence of human merit preceding the gift of justifying grace. Here Calvin could say: “…on the beginning of justification there is no quarrel between us and the sounder Schoolmen.”[140] At issue was merit following grace. Since Bernard, following Augustine, claimed all our merits are derived from grace and ultimately point back to the divine Giver, Calvin extended some margin to Bernard: “…the fact that he uses the term ‘merits’ freely for good works, we must excuse as the custom of the time.”[141] Aquinas held a similar position as an Augustinian: “good merits themselves are from God and are the effects of predestination.”[142] Even so, he was not treated with the same charitable spirit. Calvin is critical of Thomas and names him specifically:
We do not even tarry over the subtlety of Thomas, that foreknowledge of merits is not the cause of predestination on the side of the predestinator’s act but that on our side it may in a way be so called: namely, according to the particular estimate of predestination, as when God is said to predestine glory for man on account of merits, because he has decreed to bestow upon him grace by which to merit glory.[143]
Contrary to the view that God predetermines to give the elect grace by which they merit glory, Calvin maintains grace is predestined to those to whom glory was previously assigned. Consequently, “predestination to glory is the cause of predestination to grace, rather than the converse.”[144]
On the matter of perseverance, Calvin believes all the elect inevitably endure to the end. The reprobate may have signs of a call similar to the elect, but they do not have the sure hope of those who cling to the promises of the gospel.[145] Accordingly, “call and faith are of little account unless perseverance be added; and this does not happen to all.”[146] Our confidence in overcoming all the obstacles to our faith “must be grounded upon the gift of perseverance.”[147] Thomas would agree that the gift of perseverance ensures one will abide in goodness until the end of one’s life, but this entails a predestination to final salvation distinguished from an initial work of grace. Aquinas speaks of being “justified by grace” yet still requiring the gift of perseverance, as if it were possible to have one without the other.[148] For Calvin, predestination necessarily includes perseverance. Our salvation “stands by God’s election, and cannot waver or fail any more than his eternal providence can.”[149] Calvin’s distinction between the general election of Israel and God’s election of particular individuals is not analogous to Thomas’s claim that some can be justified by grace initially and yet fall away potentially. Calvin did not deny that the people of Israel were said to be chosen by God, but clearly all did not receive justifying grace. Theirs was a general election and not always effectual whereas the election of a person predestined by God is always efficacious.[150]
Unlike Thomas, Calvin sees great practical value in this doctrine for the Church. If God has been pleased to hold before our eyes the riches of his electing grace, these truths are not too lofty to contemplate or appreciate. The Holy Spirit has revealed nothing except what is useful for us to know.[151] We are responsible to open our minds and ears to every utterance of God.[152] To ignore any doctrine God has brought out into the open is evidence of excessive ingratitude.[153] We ought not to inquire into the sacred precincts of divine wisdom, which are hidden from us, but ignorance of predestination “detracts from God’s glory” and “takes away from true humility.”[154] It is easy to consider this doctrine in the abstract, but Calvin commences his discussion of predestination in the Institutes from a pastoral perspective. Why does the preaching of the gospel gain acceptance with some and not with others when they hear the same message? The answer lies in God’s predestination.[155] This doctrine is also critical to genuine piety: “For neither will anything else suffice to make us humble as we ought to be nor shall we otherwise sincerely feel how much we are obliged to God. And as Christ teaches, here is our only ground for firmness and confidence…”[156] Through the Holy Spirit, God seals the certitude of his grace in the hearts of the elect.[157] The final end of predestination, as in all things, is the glory of God. The glorious praise of God’s abundant grace displayed in his people is “the highest and last purpose” of election.[158] Through the elect he manifests his mercy; through the reprobate his just severity.
2. Election
In his Institutes, commentaries, and treatises Calvin consistently maintains that God’s predestination refers to specific individuals, such as Jacob and Esau.[159] Since God’s disposition toward them is said to have been determined “before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad,” all must be attributed to God’s free election.[160] “The very inequality of his grace proves that it is free.”[161] For Calvin no human decision, not even a foreseen response of faith by grace, can influence God’s predestinating purpose. He considers nothing in us when deciding our destiny. To suggest that election anticipates faith is to make election “ineffectual until confirmed by faith.”[162] Works prior to grace fail to accomplish any spiritual good. Scripture teaches that our election is attributed entirely to divine kindness.[163] In a noteworthy passage he writes: “We shall never be clearly persuaded, as we ought to be, that our salvation flows from the wellspring of God’s free mercy until we come to know his eternal election, which illumines God’s grace by this contrast: that he does not indiscriminately adopt all into the hope of salvation but gives to some what he denies to others.”[164] This is perfectly consonant with Thomas’s position.
Union with Christ plays a vital role in Calvin’s view of election. Thomas affirms the elect’s foreordination in Christ when commenting on Ephesians 1, but never develops this idea so pivotal to Calvin’s theology.[165] In his introduction to the Summa, Hislop claims that Thomas, “recognizes the Christocentric character of election. Chosen before the foundation of the world, Christ is the elect one in whom God’s will for men is accomplished and through his grace is seen.”[166] On the contrary, Thomas’s discussion of election in the Summa is not explicitly Christocentric. Hislop imports a more Barthian notion absent from Thomas’s treatment (i.e., stressing Christ as the Elect). Calvin places Christ at the center of his doctrine of predestination because he is the focal point of redemption. If we are to seek God’s fatherly mercy and goodness as well as obtain life and immortality we must take refuge in Christ, for he alone is the anchor of our salvation.[167] For Calvin, Christ is the mirror wherein we contemplate our election, for we find no assurance in ourselves but only as we are found in him.[168] Unless one is loved by God in Christ he cannot inherit the kingdom,[169] but “where His love is found there is life.”[170] In Calvin’s theology only the elect are contemplated and loved by God in Christ. Thus, it is understandable why many conclude Calvin held to limited atonement although never stated in such terms. Whether the Reformer advocated a theory of limited atonement akin to his successors has been subject to debate but this much is clear: the benefits of Christ’s redemption are efficacious only for the elect.[171]
3. Reprobation and Damnation
Like Augustine and Aquinas before him, Calvin is more inclined to speak about election than reprobation, but he deals with the latter at much greater length. Calvin recognizes that men recoil from the idea that God sovereignly appoints the destiny of every individual, but God must be taken at his word when Scripture says he freely determines the salvation and destruction of men.[172] The immediate cause of reprobation is the curse we inherit from Adam, but the efficient cause of both election and reprobation is God’s will alone.[173] This is confirmed by Paul’s statement: “That the purpose of God according to election might stand” (Rom. 9:11). If God prepares vessels of wrath it cannot be said that men make themselves objects of destruction by their transgressions. People are condemned for their sins (damnatio), but previously rejected by God apart from sin (reprobatio). In Calvin’s theology, “permission and volition are one in the mind of an…utterly sovereign God.”[174] Therefore, reprobation cannot be a passive act of the Almighty. Thomas prefers to speak of God’s permitting the reprobate to fall away. Naturally without divine permission this would never happen and Thomas admits that we cannot know fully why God chooses one and not the other. Nevertheless, sinners are at fault for their own defection. In support of this position he quotes Hosea 13:9: “Your loss is from yourself, O Israel.”[175] Calvin interprets this passage differently. Hosea is describing the destruction Israel experienced as a result of her covenant infidelity, not as paradigmatic of the non-elect.[176]
For Calvin reprobation is not by bare permission. It is the result of God’s deliberate action amenable to his will. In his Commentary on Romans, Calvin makes a statement even some Calvinists are uncomfortable with: “Solomon also teaches us that not only was the destruction of the ungodly foreknown, but the ungodly themselves have been created for the specific purpose of perishing (Prov. 16:4).”[177] Many flinch at such a remark and either ignore it or try minimize its force by limiting Calvin’s position on reprobation to God withholding grace and leaving the non-elect to themselves. Calvin does indeed speak of God “choosing some and passing others by” but his doctrine of predestination is broader than this.[178] Calvin’s statement above is entirely in keeping with his view that God’s determination to reject some is made irrespective of sin for the ultimate purpose of magnifying his justice. Man cannot dispute with God if he purposes to broadcast his name by means of the reprobate.[179] The munificence of his favor or the severity of his judgment is dispensed as he pleases. For reasons unknown to us, it seemed good to him to enlighten some and blind others.[180] This does not diminish the responsibility of men for their damnation: “…man falls accordingly as God’s providence ordains, but he falls by his own fault.”[181] Calvin holds both truths in tension as he believes Scripture does. This paradox is only reconcilable in the inscrutable counsel of God. Even the ungodly recognize all things must be subjugated to the omnipotent will of God, but they resent his power: “What does He achieve by destroying us, except to inflict punishment upon his own workmanship in us?”[182] The reason men object to this doctrine is because God is said to be supreme in their salvation and destruction.[183] Since the resolutions of God’s secret counsel are a mystery, Paul does not attempt to offer an explanation why the destinies of men have been so ordained.[184] God’s ways exceed our rational capacities and therefore we must submit ourselves to his boundless wisdom.[185] The Almighty does not temper the excellence of his works to our ignorance.[186] Citing Augustine, Calvin insists it is perverse to measure divine justice by human justice.[187] Rather than provoke derision, this profound mystery ought to generate reverence and wonder.[188]
4. Double Predestination
For Calvin, election and reprobation stand in a symmetrical relationship since they both proceed from the one will of God. This is not to suggest that election and reprobation are symmetrical in every way; only that the destinies of the elect and reprobate are determined by God’s will apart from merit or demerit. McGrath writes, “For Calvin, logical rigor demands that God actively chooses to redeem or to damn. God cannot be thought of doing something by default: he is active and sovereign in his actions.”[189] Since some are appointed to life, it necessarily follows that others are purposely excluded from God’s mercy. In fact, the concept of election could not stand except over against reprobation.[190] Thomas, following Augustine, teaches the reprobate are abandoned (or passed over) by God and left to the ruin due their sins, but Calvin insists the reprobate are rejected for no other reason than God willed it.[191] In his annotations on Romans 9, Calvin affirms both election (electio) and reprobation (reprobatio) as positive decrees of God. Men are deliberately rejected and actively hardened. The ungodly are responsible for their own iniquity, but God ordains their resistance and ruin nonetheless. Calvin argues that if the ultimate cause of reprobation were not the will of God, Paul could have easily satisfied his interlocutors by appealing to man’s volition to determine his own destiny.[192] The fact that the apostle rests his argument on God’s sovereign right to make creatures either for noble or ignoble purposes demonstrates that neither election nor reprobation is based on foreseen faith or lack thereof. The reprobate will be justly charged for the depravity of their own hearts, “provided it be added at the same time that they have been given over to this depravity because they have been raised up by the just inscrutable judgment of God to show forth his glory in their condemnation.”[193]
Even if the reason is concealed from us, Scripture insists God’s will is just: “Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’ Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?” (Rom. 9:20-21). This is a fitting metaphor borrowed from the Old Testament to depict our human condition in relationship to God. The Creator is perfectly free to do whatever he wishes with his creatures.[194] Earthen vessels cannot strive against their heavenly maker, for God is simply exercising his own rights.[195] If God is not permitted to act as the final arbiter of life and death he is deprived of his honor and inherent authority.[196] The divine potter does in fact create “vessels of wrath fitted unto destruction” (v. 22), as well as “vessels of mercy, which he afore prepared for glory”(v.23). No explanation is given why God bestows mercy on some and rejects others. He has reasons sufficient to himself but hidden from us.[197] If one should ask for the cause of this differentiation, we can only reply because God willed it.[198] The Dutch Catholic theologian Albert Pighius, suggested God would be cruel to ordain any human being to destruction.[199] But for the Reformer, God’s predestination, which eludes our comprehension, manifests itself in perfect righteousness.[200] He prepares vessels of wrath to display the severity of his decree, striking terror in the hearts of men.[201] Consequently, his mercy toward the elect is brought into sharp relief.[202] Since the elect differ from the reprobate by no merit of their own, they bring forth increasing praise for the immeasurable mercy of God as they contemplate the destiny of the wicked. In the outworking of God’s inexplicable decree, his righteousness is revealed which “is worthy of our worship rather than our scrutiny.”[203] Ultimately, we must yield our thoughts regarding this high and lofty doctrine to the Judge of all the earth who can do no wrong.[204]
IV. CONCLUSION
The conclusion reached in this paper is that there are more similarities than disparities between Aquinas and Calvin on the doctrine of predestination. Some degree of continuity ought to be expected given that both men interpret the Apostle Paul’s teaching on predestination through the lens of Augustine to one degree or another. In some respects, Thomas reflects a more faithful reading of Augustine than Calvin since he recognizes the role of merit in the soteric process and leans in the direction of a single predestinarian view.[205] However, Calvin does more justice to Augustine’s emphasis on human depravity and the necessity of saving grace to rescue man from destruction. As it pertains to this doctrine, the theology of Thomas stands squarely in the Augustinian tradition upholding the sovereignty of God and the gratuity of grace. It would be a serious misrepresentation to classify his position as Semi-Pelagian. Unlike the Semi-Pelagians, Thomas believed in unconditional election and continually stressed the priority of divine grace in his treatment of predestination.[206] Though the Catholic Church holds Thomas in high esteem, it has not been consistently Thomist in its official doctrinal formulations. Consequently, while a Thomist schema of predestination may not warrant the charge of Semi-Pelagianism, the same could not be said of the magisterial statements of Rome. For instance, the recent edition of the Catechism of the Catholic Church reads: “To God, all moments of time are present in their immediacy. When therefore he establishes his eternal plan of ‘predestination,’ he includes in it each person’s free response to his grace.”[207] This position is not new but represents a significant departure from Thomas who unequivocally maintained that, “Predestination is not anything in the predestined, but only in him who predestines.”[208]
A comparison of views between these theological titans reveals several notable areas of incongruity. First, Thomas sees predestination as a part of God’s providence and focuses on causality while Calvin posits predestination, not providence, as determinative of our final end and approaches it soteriologically. Second, Thomas follows Augustine and argues that the attainment of glory is realized in conjunction with acquired merit through grace and the gift of perseverance. Calvin, on the other hand, is irreconcilably opposed to the role of human merit both prior to and subsequent to justification. Third, our election in Christ is vital for Calvin while Thomas hardly speaks to this at all. Fourth, Thomas by and large embraces a doctrine of negative or passive reprobation whereby God permits the reprobate to fall away leading to damnation. Calvin advocates double predestination, arguing that God actively wills the destruction of the reprobate irrespective of works. Fifth, while Thomas identifies no practical end for this doctrine, it serves as a ground of assurance in Calvin’s theology.
While these differences are not inconsequential, areas of agreement should be given greater weight. Both share the same outlook on the cause, extent, and end of election, namely, God’s unmerited favor toward a select number of individuals freely chosen for eternal life for the purpose of manifesting his goodness in their redemption. Thomas and Calvin mutually affirm the total inability of man to please God without special grace, unconditional election, the limited efficacy of Christ’s atonement, efficacious grace, and the perseverance of the elect.[209] One might deduce from these propositions a Thomistic version of TULIP.[210] In the final analysis, Thomas and Calvin locate the source and means of salvation squarely in God’s sovereign grace. Man can neither initiate his salvation nor realize its consummation apart from grace. Individuals possess eternal life only because God has foreordained them to this end according to his good pleasure.
An honest appraisal of the views of Thomas and Calvin finds more harmony than one might suspect. Disputes that arose within the Catholic Church on questions concerning predestination and grace suggest a measure of correspondence. Writing to the Grand Inquisitor of Spain in 1748, Pope Benedict XIV emphasized the liberty of theological schools to hold to differing opinions on these matters. What is significant is the way in which he described the alleged charges against the Thomists: “The Thomists are defamed as destroyers of human liberty and as followers not only of Jansen but of Calvin.”[211] Benedict saw no need to censure the Thomists since they had admirably answered the objections posed against them and had never been condemned by the Apostolic See. Nevertheless, the comparison made by their critics is telling. The Molinists, largely Jesuits, recognized the theological parallels between Thomism and Calvinism on the question of predestination and dispassionate scholarship leads us to a similar conclusion. While the views of Catholics and Protestants on scriptural authority, justification, and the sacraments remain incompatible, Thomists and Calvinists do share much in common with regard to predestination. With respect to this subject, the Catholic scholar Ian Hislop observed, “there is not much in the Scriptural Commentaries [of Thomas] that Calvin could object to.”[212] This may be overstated, but what Hislop claims of Calvin cannot be said of Protestants outside the Reformed Faith since all other Protestant traditions adopt some form of conditional election. While the doctrine of predestination has historically been a hotbed of controversy, perhaps it can serve a constructive purpose for sober-minded Catholics and Reformed Protestants who desire healthy dialogue on the primacy of grace in salvation.
Taking Thomas as a benchmark for comparative studies on this subject, Steven C. Boguslawski observes: “…apart from R. Garrigou-Lagrange’s work on predestination fifty years ago, little has been written on the topic of predestination and election in Aquinas in contemporary studies.” Thomas Aquinas on the Jews: Insights into His Commentary on Romans 9-11 (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 2008), 73, n. 1. ↑
Catholic thought is far from homogeneous. There are significant differences between Dominicans, Franciscans, and Suarezians. Nevertheless, Thomas holds an esteemed place in Catholicism. In his 1879 encyclical Aeterni Patris, Pope Leo XIII underscored the need for a Thomistic Renaissance and encouraged the reintroduction of Thomism into Catholic educational institutions. He did not direct bishops to elevate one school of thought above another, but did stress the fact that, “ecumenical councils…have always been careful to hold Thomas Aquinas in singular honor.” 22. Writing a century later, Pope John Paul II reaffirmed “Saint Thomas as…a model of the right way to do theology” and celebrated the global rise of Thomism which he attributed in large part to the encyclical of Leo XIII. See John Paul II, encyclical, Fides et Ratio 43, 58. ↑
Although he is generally perceived as the father of Reformed theology, John Calvin was only one in a nexus of theologians whose thought led to the formation of Reformed Protestantism – these included first generation Reformers Ulrich Zwingli, Johannes Oecolampadius, and Martin Bucer, and second generation codifiers Heinrich Bullinger, Peter Martyr Vermigli, and Wolfgang Musculus. See Richard A. Muller, Christ and the Decree: Christology and Predestination in Reformed Theology from Calvin to Perkins (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1988), 39. Frank A. James III, “Neglected Sources of the Reformed Doctrine of Predestination: Ulrich Zwingli and Peter Martyr Vermigli,” Modern Reformation 7, no. 6 (1998): 18. ↑
Maarten Wisse and Marcel Sarot,“Introduction. Reforming Views of Reformed Scholasticism,” in Scholasticism Reformed: Essays in Honour of Willem J. van Asselt, eds. Maarten Wisse, Marcel Sarot and Willemien Otten (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 1-27. Abundant evidence has demonstrated the influence of the scholastic method upon the early Reformers and their successors, a method employed equally by Reformed, Lutheran, and Roman Catholic theologians. Reformed Orthodox theologians chose to incorporate the dialectical and rhetorical features of scholasticism to help structure their biblical formulations, refine their argumentation, and identify fallacies in rival systems. They incorporated Aristotelian categories, not to detract from a biblically rooted faith, but to utilize philosophical concepts and language in the service of precise theological explication and debate. See Richard A. Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725, 2nd ed. 4 vols. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2003); After Calvin: Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003); Carl R. Trueman and R. Scott Clark, eds. Protestant Scholasticism: Essays in Reassessment (Waynesboro, GA: Paternoster, 2006); Willem J. van Asselt, T. Theo J. Pleizier, Pieter L. Rouwendal, and Maarteen Wisse, Introduction to Reformed Scholasticism, trans. Albert Gootjes (Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2011). ↑
For an exploration of ways Thomas was indebted or stood in relation to Augustine see Aquinas the Augustinian, eds. Michael Dauphinias, Barry David and Mathew Levering (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 2007). ↑
Some modern studies comparing the views of Aquinas and Calvin on predestination include Charles Partee, “Predestination in Aquinas and Calvin,” Reformed Review, 32, no. 1 (Fall 1978): 14-22; Caspar Friethoff, Die Pradestinationslehre bei Thomas von Aquin und Calvin (Freiburg: St. Paulus, 1926); A.D.R. Polman, De praedestinatieleer van Augustinus, Thomas van Aquino en Calvijn. Een dogmahistorische studie (Franeker: T. Wever, 1936); Joseph Thang Nguyen, Predestination: its earliest Augustinian expression and the later doctrine of Thomas Aquinas and John Calvin (M.A. thesis, Graduate Theological Union, 1983). ↑
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae (hereafter ST), vol. 5., ed. and trans. Thomas Gilby (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1967) Ia, 23. 1. Yearley comments on the significance of the doctrines of providence and predestination: “The idea is closely connected with almost all Christian doctrines and also has wide philosophic implications. In fact, in the sense that providence / predestination specifies the relation of God to the world, the concept becomes the most crucial and far-ranging human idea or question about the nature of God. In its simplest form, the question providence / predestination raises is: ‘Does God control the actual happenings of the world?’” Lee H. Yearley, “St. Thomas Aquinas on Providence and Predestination,” Anglican Theological Review 49 (1967): 409. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 22. 1. Thomas treats the subject of divine providence extensively in his commentary on Job, most likely written contemporaneously with Book III of his Summa contra Gentiles. See Eleonore Stump, “Biblical commentary and philosophy,” in The Cambridge Companion to Aquinas, eds. Norman Kretzmann and Eleonore Stump (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 253, 260-265. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 22. 3; ST, Ia, 22. 1. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 22. 1. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 22. 2. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 22. 3. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 22. 4. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 20. 3. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 1. ↑
Brian Davies, The Thought of Thomas Aquinas (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), 168. ↑
Aquinas, De veritate, 6. ↑
Thomas F. O’Meara, Thomas Aquinas, Theologian (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1997), 104. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 4. ↑
Davies, Thomas Aquinas, 167. Thomas’s remarks on predestination have been subject to various interpretations, most notably in the De Auxiliis controversy at the end of the sixteenth century. During this time a heated debate emerged between two rival parties: the Dominicans led by Domingo Banez and the Jesuits / Molinists led by Luis de Molina. Banez argued for the idea of physical premotion (praemotio physica), maintaining that God’s eternal decrees concur efficaciously with the operations of man even when he acts freely. Molina believed this notion denied human freedom. After twenty years of private and public debates between Dominicans and Jesuits, many in the presence of popes, the dispute was officially left undecided allowing both views to coexist in the Catholic Church. See Harm Goris, “Divine Foreknowledge, Providence, Predestination, and Human Freedom,” in The Theology of Thomas Aquinas, eds. Rick Van Nieuwenhove and Joseph Wawrykow (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2005), 99-100. For an extended discussion on physical premotion and its corollaries see Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, Predestination: The Meaning of Predestination in Scripture and the Church (Rockford, IL: Tan Books and Publishers, 1998), 240-323. ↑
Cf. Augustine, De corruptione et gratia, viii, 17,18. For Augustine, not all the regenerate are granted the gift of perseverance. Only those predestined are blessed with perseverance since none of the elect can perish. ↑
See St. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Saint Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians, trans. Matthew L. Lamb (Albany: Magi Books, 1966), 1. lect. 1, 4. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 2: “Dicendum quod praedestinatio non est aliquid in praedestinatis sed in praedestinante tantum.” ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 1. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 2. ↑
Thomas Aquinas, Of God and His Creatures: An Annotated Translation of the Summa Contra Gentiles of Saint Thomas Aquinas (hereafter CG), trans. Joseph Rickaby (London: Burns and Oates, 1905), III. 164. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Letter of St. Paul to the Romans, eds. John Mortensen and Enrique Alarcon, trans. Fabian R. Larcher (Lander, WY: The Aquinas Institute for the Study of Sacred Doctrine, 2012), 8. lect. 6, 705. ↑
Aquinas, Romans, 8. lect. 6, 703. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
Aquinas, Ephesians, 1. lect. 1. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
Frank A. James III, Peter Martyr Vermigli and Predestination: The Augustinian Inheritance of an Italian Reformer (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), 119. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5: “Sicut si diamus quod Deus praeordinavit se daturum alicui gloriam ex meritis, et quod praeordinavit se daturum alciui gratiam ut mereretur gloriam.” ↑
Partee, “Predestination in Aquinas and Calvin,” 20. ↑
Joseph Wawrykow, “Grace,” in The Theology of Thomas Aquinas, 204. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
O’Meara, Thomas Aquinas, 104. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 8. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia IIae, 109. 9. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia IIae, 109. 10. Cited in Aquinas: Nature and Grace, ed. A.M. Fairweather (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1954). ↑
Yearley, “St. Thomas Aquinas on Providence and Predestination,” 418. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 19. 8. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 6; Yearley, “St. Thomas Aquinas on Providence and Predestination,” 418. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 1. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 7. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 6. “Accordingly, human beings took the place of the fallen angels, and Gentiles that of Jews.” ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 7: “Sed melius dicitur quod soli Deo est cognitus numerus electorum in superna felicitate locandus, ut habet collecta pro vivis et defunctis.” ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 1. ↑
In his commentary on Ephesians 1:5-6, Thomas sketches out six characteristics of predestination: “First, it is an eternal act, he hath predestinated; secondly, it has a temporal object, us; thirdly, it offers a present privilege, the adoption of children through Jesus Christ; fourthly, the result is future, unto himself; fifthly, its manner [of being realized] is gratuitous, according to the purpose of his will; sixthly, it has a fitting effect [end], unto the praise of the glory of his grace.” Ephesians, 1. lect. 1. ↑
Aquinas, Ephesians, 1. lect. 1. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
Aquinas, Ephesians, 1. lect. 1. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 4. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Ibid. Thomas comments on this distinction when dealing with the question, “Is God’s will always fulfilled?” If his will is always accomplished how does one explain Paul’s statement, “God wills all men to be saved.” (I Tim 2:4)? Thomas offers three possible explanations. First, the words are restricted to believers; none are saved whom God does not will to be saved. Second, the passage is not speaking about every individual but every class of persons (e.g., men and women, Jews and Gentiles). Third, it refers to God’s antecedent not consequent will. According to Thomas Gilby, the editor and translator of this section of the Summa, Thomas is not suggesting God’s will is contingent on our co-operation: “St. Thomas hinges the distinction on that between what we downrightly will to do, voluntarium simpliciter, and what we would like to do in other circumstances, voluntarium secundum quid.” ST, Ia, 19.6, n. d. In contrast to God’s consequent will, what is willed antecedently is not absolute but may be considered in Thomas’s words, “more a wishing than a sheer willing.” To suggest God loves all his creatures and yet brings only a portion to glory is not unreasonable for “…we can speak of a justice that antecedently wishes every man to live, but consequently pronounces the capital sentence. So by analogy God antecedently wills all men to be saved, yet consequently wills some to be condemned as his justice requires.” Aquinas, ST, Ia, 19.6. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, Ephesians, 1. lect. 1. Ephesians 1:4 (Lamb’s translation): “As he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in his sight in charity.” ↑
Thomas cites Romans 9:11: “For when the children were not yet born, nor had done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand.” ↑
Aquinas, Ephesians, 1. lect. 1. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 4. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 20. 1. ↑
Davies, The Thought of Thomas Aquinas, 151; ST, Ia, 20. 2. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
J.I. Packer, “The Love of God: Universal and Particular,” in Still Sovereign: Contemporary Perspectives on Election, Foreknowledge, and Grace, eds. Thomas R. Schreiner and Bruce A. Ware (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 2000), 283. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
Aquinas, Romans, 9. lect. 3, 773. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 164. ↑
Ibid; ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. All who assume this position are forced to deal with those scriptural passages which either state or imply that God desires all to be saved or that Christ died for all. Thomas’s annotations on Hebrews 2:9 offer an example of how he deals with this challenge. The text reads, “But we see Jesus, who for a little while was made lower than the angels, crowned with glory and honor because of the suffering of death, so that by the grace of God he might taste death for every one.” Thomas says the terms for every one or for all can be interpreted in two ways: “Either so that it may be an accommodated distribution, namely for all the predestined, for it is for these only that it has efficacy. Or absolutely for all as to sufficiency. For so far as concerns itself, it is sufficient for all. I Tim 4:10: Who is the Saviour of all men, especially the faithful.” Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews, trans. Chrysostom Baer (Sound Bend, IN: St. Augustine’s Press, 2006), 2. lect. 3, 125. Thomas has no trouble affirming what has been generally accepted by Calvinists, namely, that Christ’s death is sufficient for all but efficient only for the elect (see Canons of Dort, Head of Doctrine II, articles 3, 8). Thomas makes this explicit in his annotations on 1 Timothy 2:6, Who gave Himself a redemption for all: “1 Jn. 2:2: And He is the propitiation for our sin, for some efficaciously, but for all sufficiently, since the price of His blood is sufficient for the salvation of all. But it does not have efficacy except in the elect on account of an impediment.” Thomas Aquinas, Commentaries on St. Paul’s Epistles to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon, trans. Chrysostom Baer (Sound Bend, IN: St. Augustine’s Press, 2007), 1 Timothy, 2. lect. 1, 64. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 7; CG, III. 164. ↑
Thomas refers to the “last end” as the proper goal of humanity, namely, the beatific vision which the reprobate do not enjoy. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 164. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 162. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 163. He adds, “it is impossible for God’s action to avert any from their ultimate end in God.” ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 163. ↑
Ibid. ↑
According to Thomas, blindness and hardheartedness do not make a man worse; they are punishments for sin. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 162. ↑
Aquinas, Romans, 9. lect. 3, 782. ↑
Aquinas, Romans, 9. lect. 3, 784. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 5. ↑
Aquinas, Romans. 9. lect. 4, 792. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 7. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 2. Thomas’s claim that God cannot prevent all evil without destroying some good has been challenged in contemporary discussions. See Partee, “Predestination in Aquinas and Calvin,” 20. ↑
James, Peter Martyr Vermigli and Predestination, 122. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 162. ↑
Aquinas, Romans. 9. lect. 4, 792. ↑
Garrigou-Lagrange, Predestination, 207. ↑
“And it is significant that he [Paul] says that he might show the riches of his glory, because the very condemnation and reprobation of the wicked, carried out in accord with God’s justice, makes known and highlights the glory of the saints who were freed from such misery as this.” Aquinas, Romans, 9. lect. 4, 794. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 160. ↑
Aquinas, CG, III. 164. ↑
Aquinas, Romans. 9. lect. 2, 764. ↑
Aquinas, Romans. 9. lect. 4, 788. ↑
Aquinas, Romans. 9. lect. 4, 789. ↑
Aquinas, Romans. 9. lect. 4, 791. ↑
Aquinas, ST Ia. 23. 3: “Reprobatio vero non est causa ejus quod est in praesenti, scilicet culpae, sed est causa derelictionis a Deo.” ↑
Ibid. ↑
Partee, “Predestination in Aquinas and Calvin,” 17. ↑
The 1536 edition of the Institutes is essentially an expanded catechism comprised of a mere six chapters. In this edition the subject of predestination is addressed in connection with ecclesiology. ↑
Muller, The Unaccomodated Calvin, 122. In Muller’s judgment it is “reasonable to trace the major interest in predestination to his work on the [Romans] commentary” 24. Most agree that Calvin’s exposition of Romans had a significant impact on his theological development, including his understanding of predestination. His commentary on Romans marks the commencement of his exegetical endeavors and substantial developments in later editions of the Institutes. ↑
John Calvin, Concerning the Eternal Predestination of God, trans. J.K.S. Reid (Cambridge: James Clarke & Co., 1961), 162, 167-168. ↑
Cited in Francois Wendall, Calvin: Origins and Development of His Religious Thought, trans. Philip Mairet (Durham: Labyrinth Press, 1987), 268. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, I.xvi.3. ↑
Partee notes, “If God’s particular providence for the believer is not identical with predestination, the doctrines are at least complementary since God is both Creator and Redeemer.” Charles Partee, “Calvin on Universal and Particular Providence,” in Readings in Calvin’s Theology, ed. Donald K. McKim (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1984), 83. ↑
Paul Jacobs comments: “That the doctrine of predestination does not appear…before the doctrine of creation…follows from the fact that it cannot be properly considered except from a Christocentric point of view.” Cited by Wendall in Calvin, 268 n. ↑
Alister E. McGrath, A Life of John Calvin (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1990), 167. ↑
Partee, “Predestination in Aquinas and Calvin,” 17. ↑
Muller, Christ and the Decree, 22. ↑
Aquinas, Ephesians. 1. lect. 1. ↑
Calvin, Institutes III.xxiii.2; II.xxii.11. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, I.xvi.8. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxxiii.6. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiii.2. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.5. Calvin calls predestination a decretum horribile (III.xxii.7) which many have understood as horrible decree. As McGrath points out, this is a crude translation and should be rendered an awe-inspiring decree. See A Life of Calvin, 167. ↑
John Calvin, The Epistles of Paul the Apostle to the Romans and Thessalonians, ed. David W. Torrance and Thomas F. Torrance, trans. Ross Mackenzie (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1960), 200. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxii.5. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 199. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 200. ↑
John Calvin, Sermons on Election and Reprobation (Audubon NJ: Old Path Publications, 1996), 39. Calvin’s assessment of prescience is unambiguous: “The doctrine that God either elects or reprobates as He foresees each to be worthy or unworthy of His favour, is false…and contrary to the Word of God.” Romans, 201. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.5. ↑
Wendall, Calvin, 272. ↑
Calvin affirms the promise of eternal rewards for the believer but denies the promise is based on merit of any kind: “Nothing is clearer than that a reward is promised for good works to relieve the weakness of our flesh by some comfort but not to puff up our hearts with vainglory. Whoever, then, deduces merit of works from this, or weighs works and reward together, wanders very far from God’s own plan.” Institutes, III.xviii.4. Commenting on Psalm 18:20 “Jehovah rewarded me according to my righteousness; he recompensed me according to the cleanness of my hands”, Calvin writes: “When the Scripture uses the word reward or recompense, it is not to show that God owes us any thing, and it is therefore a groundless and false conclusion to infer from this that there is any merit of worth in works. But God, as a just judge, rewards every man according to his works, but he does it in such a manner, as to show that all men are indebted to him, while he himself is under obligation to no one. The reason is not only that which St. Augustine has assigned, namely, that God finds no righteousness in us to recompense, except what he himself has freely given us, but also because, forgiving the blemishes and imperfections which cleave to our works, he imputes to us for righteousness that which he might justly reject. If, therefore, none of our works please God, unless the sin which mingles with them is pardoned, it follows, that the recompense which he bestows on account of them proceeds not from our merit, but from his free and undeserved grace.” Commentary on the Book of Psalms, vol. 1., trans. James Anderson (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1949), 280. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 205-206. ↑
B. A. Gerrish, “The Place of Calvin in Christian Theology,” in The Cambridge Companion to John Calvin, ed. Donald K. McKim (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 295. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xiv.11. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xii.3. ↑
Aquinas, Romans, 9. lect. 3, 771. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxii.9. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiv.7. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiv.6. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia IIae, 109. 10. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, IV.i.3. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 203. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.3 ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.4. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.1. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.ii.11. ↑
John Calvin, The Epistles of Paul the Apostle to the Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians and Colossians, ed. David W. Torrance and Thomas F. Torrance, trans. T. H. L. Parker (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1965), 127. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.7. Thomas employs this example from Malachi chapter 1 for the purpose of demonstrating that some are rejected by God. See Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
Calvin, Romans,199. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.6. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiv.3. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 205. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxi.1 ↑
Aquinas, Ephesians 1. lect. 1. ↑
Ian Hislop, introduction to ST, xix. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiv.5. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 202. ↑
For a helpful discussion of this subject see Roger Nicole, “John Calvin’s View of the Extent of the Atonement,” Westminster Theological Journal 47, no. 2 (1985): 197-225. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 203. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 200-201. ↑
Muller, Christ and the Decree, 24-25 ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 3. ↑
Aquinas, Hosea 13. lect. 35. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 207, 208. ↑
Calvin, Concerning the Eternal Predestination of God, 120. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 207. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiii.8. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 208. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 209. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, I.xviii.4. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiii.5. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiv.17. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 209; Institutes, III.xxi.1; III.xxiii.5. Calvin aptly cites Augustine, “Reason, thou: I will marvel. Dispute, thou; I will believe.” ↑
Alister E. McGrath, Reformation Thought: An Introduction, 3rd ed. (Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 1999), 137. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiii.1 ↑
Wendel, Calvin, 280. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 208. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiv.14. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 209-210. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 209. Calvin makes the following distinction: “The word right does not mean the maker has the power or strength to do what he pleases, but that this power to act rightly belongs to him. Paul does not want to claim for God an inordinate power, but the power which He should rightly be given.” ↑
Calvin, Romans, 210. ↑
Ibid. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiii.2. “…let us not be ashamed to say with Augustine: ‘God could,’ he says, ‘Turn the will of evil men to good because he is almighty. Obviously he could. Why, then, does he not? Because he wills otherwise. Why he wills otherwise rests with him.’” III.xxiv.13. ↑
Calvin, Concerning the Eternal Predestination of God, 112. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 210-211. “We…who are believers are for very good reasons called the vessels of mercy, for the Lord uses us as instruments for the exhibition of His mercy.” ↑
Calvin, Romans, 211-212. Calvin points out that if the objects of wrath had not been prepared in the secret counsel of God, Paul would have said, “the reprobate…cast themselves into destruction. Now, however, he means that their lot is already assigned to them before their birth.” ↑
Calvin, Romans, 201. ↑
Calvin, Romans, 211. ↑
Calvin, Institutes, III.xxiii.4. ↑
According to Augustine the just have merits but “no merits by which they were made just” Epistola 194, 3, 6. McGrath notes, “… it is clearly wrong to suggest that Augustine excludes or denies merit; while merit before justification is indeed denied, its reality and necessity after justification are equally strongly affirmed. It must be noted, however, that Augustine understands merit as a gift from God to the justified sinner…Eternal life is indeed the reward for merit – but is itself a gift from God so that the whole process must be seen as having its origin in the divine liberality, rather than in human works. If God is under any obligation to humans on account of their merit, it is an obligation which God has imposed upon himself, rather than one which is imposed from outside, or is inherent in the nature of things.” Alister E. McGrath, Iustitia Dei, A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification, 3rd ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005). 43-44. ↑
Whereas the Semi-Pelagians maintained that grace was unnecessary for the beginning of faith, Thomas stressed the primacy of grace in both our eternal election and effectual calling. He makes a clear delineation between the external call and the internal call. The internal call “is nothing less than an impulse of the mind whereby a man’s heart is moved by God to assent to the things of faith or of virtue…This call is necessary, because our heart would not turn itself to God, unless God himself drew us to him: no one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him (John 6:44).” Aquinas, Romans, 8. lect. 6, 707. The letters of Propser of Aquitaine and Hilary of Arles to Augustine indicate that the Semi-Pelagians, particularly John Cassian, Faustus of Riez, and others centered in Marseilles, taught that man does not need grace for the beginning of faith. The initium fidei depends entirely upon the freedom of the will. They viewed predestination as identical to God’s foreknowledge of a person’s faith and merit as one perseveres in good works without supernatural assistance. As Garrigou-Lagrange observed, “Such an interpretation eliminates the element of mystery in predestination spoken of by St. Paul. God is not the author but merely the spectator of that which distinguishes the elect from the rest of mankind. The elect are not loved and helped more by God.” Predestination, 8-9; Justo L. Gonzalez, A History of Christian Thought: From Augustine to the Eve of the Reformation, vol. 2. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1971), 56-63. The Second Council of Orange (529) steered clear of Semi-Pelagianism without endorsing a full-fledged Augustinianism. The council affirmed the necessity of grace for any supernatural good work and ruled that the efficacy of grace does not depend on the foreseen consent of man, though this last point is debated. Canon 172 appears to uphold the intrinsic efficacy of divine grace. The council censures anyone who “says that God waits for us to will that we may be cleansed from sin, and who does not confess that even our wish to be cleansed from sin is the effect of the infusion and operation of the Holy Spirit…” See Garrigou-Lagrange, Predestination, 50-51. ↑
Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd ed. (Strathfield, NSW: St Pauls, 2000), n. 600. ↑
Aquinas, ST, Ia, 23. 2. Similarly, “neither can predestination find any reason on the part of the creature but only on the part of God.” Ephesians, 1. lect. 1. ↑
Admittedly, the “L” in TULIP specifies not the effect but the intent of the atonement (i.e., the eternal purpose of the Father to effectually save a subset of humanity given to and purchased by the Son). Prior to the Reformation, the Schoolmen were less precise regarding the extent of the atonement. Nevertheless, it is safe to conclude that limited rather than unlimited atonement fits better into the total pattern of the teaching of Aquinas and Calvin. ↑
John Salza, The Mystery of Predestination According to Scripture, the Church, and St. Thomas Aquinas (Charlotte, NC: Tan Books, 2010), 201. While granting that a Thomist version of TULIP is plausible, I take issue with the author’s construction. ↑
Benedict XIV, “Dum praeterito,” in Compendium of Creeds, Definitions, and Declarations of Matters of Faith and Morals, eds. Heinrich Denzinger, Peter Hunermann, Helmut Hoping, Robert Fastiggi, and Anne Englund Nash, 43rd ed. (Ignatius Press: San Francisco, 2012), 2564. ↑
Hislop, introduction, xx. ↑
Volume 1 Issue 2
September 2016 | 119 pages
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Post by Admin on Apr 8, 2024 15:37:13 GMT -5
A Vision of God, A Vision of Seminary
D. Blair Smith
Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology
Reformed Theological Seminary, Charlotte
I. Introduction: The Westminster Shorter Catechism and a Vision of God
“To glorify God and enjoy him forever.” So answers the Westminster Shorter Catechism to the question of “What is the chief end of Man?” In his popular work, Desiring God, John Piper has brought the juxtaposition of ‘glorifying and ‘enjoying’ into widespread consideration in the evangelical world. Piper contends that we glorify God by enjoying him, a key formula to his idea of Christian hedonism. As elsewhere he famously claims, “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.”[1] And hence, we glorify God by enjoying him.
Certainly the enjoyment of God is as essential as the WSC presents it to be. I believe far too many theologians overlook the enjoyment of God, or at least under-appreciate it.[2] However, Piper’s is not the only way of understanding the relation between glorifying God and enjoying Him. If we go back to the eighteenth century, to the classic commentary by James Fisher, we find a proper order and balance in understanding the Catechism’s opening question. Fisher concludes – through 49 questions and answers expositing just the first question of the Catechism(!) – that we enjoy God by glorifying him. Listen to the careful order and distinction of his 44th question on WSC Question 1:
Q.44. Why is the glorifying God made the leading part of man’s chief end, and set before the enjoyment of him?
A. Because, as God’s design in glorifying himself was the reason and foundation of his design in making man happy in the enjoyment of him, Rom. 11:26; so he has made our aiming at his glory, as our chief end, to be the very way and means of our attaining to that enjoyment, Psalm 50:23.[3]
In other words, when we glorify God through receiving Christ by grace we are fully engaged in our highest purpose as those created in the image of God. Filling out our supreme design, then, in faith, obedience, and worship – in glorifying God – in that we find our delight, our happiness, our eternal enjoyment.
These wonderfully rich insights are within our Reformed tradition if we have eyes to see them. But what if we take these questions to eras well before the Reformation? What if we go all the way back to the fourth century? I believe that these questions of ‘chief’ importance, seriously engaged within our Reformed tradition, have much to gain from being subjected to an earlier light.
My focus is simple, encapsulated by a great fourth-century father of the West, Hilary of Poitiers, when he said, “God can only be known in devotion.” The form of knowledge that is appropriate to God, he writes, is “thinking with understanding formed by piety,” approaching God with a devout mind.[4] Indeed, life and doctrine should be an intertwined pair. Theology and spirituality breathe the same air.
As we probe this crucial integration of life and the study of God and his ways, we will do so through the ancient Christian conception of the “vision of God”, specifically in the light of the theology of Basil of Caesarea. As a result, we will learn more about the relationship between glorifying and enjoying God, gain deeper insight into who God is in his Trinitarian relations, and into the nature of his glory, and how our enjoyment of him transforms our lives, thus connecting theology and life in profound ways.
I acknowledge that the connection of WSC Question 1 the vision of God may not be readily apparent. I hope, however, we will share B. B. Warfield’s insight when he was giving consideration to how no other catechism begins on a higher plane, and said, “The Westminster Catechism cuts itself free at once from entanglement with lower things and begins, as it centers and ends, under the illumination of the vision of God in His glory.”[5] As we explore this vision first through the Trinitarian insights of one great patristic theologian (Basil), then through some relevant biblical texts, and finally its eschatological hope, I hope you will see that it also yields a vision for seminary. That is to say, understanding what is meant by the vision of God prompts us to reexamine our postures and practices when studying God and his ways, where we find our goal, our telos,our eternal “end” in Him.
II. The Vision of God according to Basil of Caesarea
One of the reasons I love studying the theology of the Fathers is their theological reflections were never disconnected from worship and transformative living in Christ: life and doctrine were one, heart and mind were united. Theology, for them – as I hope it is for us –was “worshipful knowledge” or “a doxology of understanding,” emerging from biblically saturated prayer and worship. For them, to pray, to worship, and to do theology came from essentially the same posture. The particular father whose theology I want to explore Basil of Caesarea, or as he is sometimes referred to, Basil the Great. In a very real sense, he built his Trinitarian theology from his conception of the vision of God.
As one of the great Cappadocian Fathers – friend to Gregory of Nazianzus and brother to Gregory of Nyssa – Basil lived in the latter half of the fourth century when the church’s Trinitarian doctrine was being refined in the face of increasing heretical heat, which wanted to separate first the Son and then the Spirit from the eternal Godhead. Basil was born into an aristocratic family that privileged him with one of the finest educations one could receive at that time, leading to a period studying in Athens where he would have been a schoolmate of the future emperor, Julian (known in history as “Julian the Apostate”).
Like Augustine, in Basil we are presented with a compelling three-dimensional character. As a bishop, his training coupled with his distinct personality traits enabled him to be effective in what were incredibly complex times to be in church leadership. In his own area, he led the charge to build a hospice for travelers and a hospital for the sick, plus a center to feed and train the poor for practical work. As a disciple, he knew in his formative years, through his sister and brother as well as his friend, Gregory Nazianzus, the profound importance of spiritual relationships. We actually have letters between Basil and Nazianzus seasoned with playful banter, yet in the context of two friends who were passionately seeking God. Despite certain judgments that could be cast upon his ecclesiastical maneuvers, there is an unmistakable authenticity to Basil leading to perspectives where we are able peer into points of integration between life and theology. And as a theologian, it is fair to say he has been underappreciated, though this is changing with a new generation of scholars. The combination of intellectual gifts, academic preparation, and keen devotion to God and his Word enabled him to be a theologian of depth and insight. Let us now turn to his theology.
Throughout his theological corpus, Basil repeatedly highlights the “grammar” of worship as resource for Trinitarian reflection (a grammar planted within the liturgy by Scripture). What is confessed simply about God at baptism, for example – that He is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – marks the distinctive character of Christian worship and becomes, for the Christian, the outline for one’s spiritual growth. According to Basil’s homilies on the creation of the world, his Hexaemeron, this is in accord with our creational purpose as human beings. Basil’s vision for man emerges from a Trinitarian matrix where the “Let us make” of Genesis 1:26 is a unique deliberation (rather than a simple command) between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Each divine person is active in creating Adam and Eve in the image and likeness of God so that they might, in turn, glorify the Trinity.[6] Basil invites his “audience” (within these sermons) to consider themselves as “in” the first humans so that they, too, might find their telos in worship. For Basil, the return to ‘origins’ in Genesis has the greater purpose of contemplating our destiny. Indeed, his message in the closing sections of the final homily in this work is: “You were created that you might see God.”[7]
Our ability to worship God, however, is “blocked” by our sin, a result of the fall. In light of the fall of humanity, redemption through Christ reawakens believers to their destiny. That destiny is “mapped” by Basil through a theological epistemology in which a deepening knowledge of God is a tracing of the Trinitarian persons–where we get “inside” the Trinity, as it were, and are led on a divine trajectory that leads to the Father, in particular. In tracing the Trinitarian persons two prominent metaphors emerge within Basil’s writings for understanding the Trinity, which not incidentally parallel how he also understands the creation of Man: image and likeness (or, as he refers to the latter, ‘kinship’). For our purposes, we will only be looking at the metaphor of image in Basil.
We turn first to a passage from De Spiritu Sancto, “On the Holy Spirit”, where Basil sets forth his spiritual program, that is to say, where we glimpse the integration of Basil’s spiritual vision and Trinitarian theology. He writes:
The way…to knowledge of God is from the one Spirit, through the one Son, to the one Father. And conversely the goodness and holiness by nature and the royal dignity reach from the Father, through the Only-begotten, to the Spirit.[8]
As those created to ‘see God’ and redeemed to ‘return to the Father through the Son,’ according to Basil, the clarifying vision of Christians begins with the work of the Spirit.[9] It is only “in” the Spirit that we can make our way through the Son to the Father. Here we see how divine knowledge proceeds on the “inside” of the Triune God. The gifts the Spirit brings to souls include rebirth and adoption, which begin the purification process necessary to see God while also placing one into a real relationship with God where we call upon him as “Father.”[10] Thus, the Spirit is the one who by grace enables worship from a familial place of “sonship.”
Just as it is proper to say the Spirit resides in human souls, so, according to Basil, should we speak of our “place” in the Spirit. He grants purification and knowledge of God by being “in” us, but it is our place “in” him that speaks to our adoption and relation to the Father through the Son in worship. Basil elaborates on how “knowledgeable worship” in the Spirit proceeds
just as the Father is in the Son, so the Son is seen in the Spirit. Therefore, worship in the Spirit suggests that the activity of our thought is like light…. [W]e speak of worship in the Son as worship in the Image of God the Father, so also we speak of worship in the Spirit as worship in him who manifests the divinity of the Lord. Therefore, in worship the Holy Spirit is inseparable from the Father and the Son, for if you are outside of him, you will not worship at all while if you are in him, you will in no way separate him from God – at least no more than you will remove light from objects of sight. For it is impossible to see the Image of the invisible God, except in the illumination of the Spirit, and it is impossible for him who fixes his eyes on the image to separate the light from the image. The cause of seeing must be seen together with the things seen.[11]
In this wonderfully dense quote we see the Spirit’s role in human knowledge of the divine is to bring illumination, an illumination that comes from his very self. The Spirit brings illumination by making believers like himself – spiritual – through communion with Himself, so that they can “see spiritually God.”[12]
The “journey” of this contemplation follows a Trinitarian path, and thus integrates the Vision of God to a Trinitarian theology. Therefore, the one “seen” in the Spirit is the Son, and “the cause of seeing must be seen together with the things seen.”[13] In this language Basil highlights the inseparability of the Spirit and Son, an inseparability experienced by the illuminated worshiper who, through the light, is inevitably brought to the image.[14] It is the Spirit who grants illuminating power for the eyes to be fixed “on the beauty of the image of the unseen God.”[15] Here Basil quotes Psalm 36:9, “In your light do we see light,” which he understands to refer to the illuminating work of the Spirit. He then connects that with John 1:9, “The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world,” in order to demonstrate the Spirit’s work of illumination as a revelation in Himself of the glory of the Only-begotten. Worship in the Spirit, then, is illuminated worship where the divinity and glory of the Image are made manifest.
For Basil, then, it is by the light of the Spirit that we can see the image of the Son. An image cannot be “seen” without light. The Son is that image, and the Spirit is that light. This is an epistemological move – from light to the image – while also being a Trinitarian one: while the worshiper is growing in divine knowledge by beholding the Image, he or she is also understanding the relationship obtaining between the divine persons.
To speak of the “image” raises the question “of what?” Just as to see an image one needs illumination, so for there to be an image there needs to be an “original.” In this metaphor each of its elements in the order of knowing suggests the other, helpfully expressing the interrelationships of the divine persons. In expressing those interrelationships it “moves” quickly from one to the other, meaning the light is about the image and the image is about the “original” or what Basil calls the “archetype.”[16] Here we have the Father. The honor brought to the image “passes over” in “worshipful knowledge” to the archetype.[17] Indeed, Basil presents this movement as an inevitable one that moves when with illuminating power worshippers “fix [their] eyes on the beauty of the image of the unseen God, and through the image are led up to the more than beautiful vision of the archetype.”[18] The beauty of the archetype seen in the image that Basil has in mind here is Hebrew 1:3’s the “radiance of glory.” Perfect radiance – the image – proceeds from the perfect glory, and through that radiance we are led to the beauty of the glory.[19]
What Basil presents in this metaphor is a fully Trinitarian vision that moves for the worshipper from the light through the image to the archetype. Accordingly, Basil’s metaphor not only teaches the order of knowing that proceeds through the Trinitarian persons to the Father; it also draws out, at the same time, the inseparability of the divine persons. Following John 14:23, Basil connects this inseparability to the previously mentioned presence of the Spirit within the soul of the worshipper: “[W]hen sanctified by the Holy Spirit, we receive Christ who dwells in our inner man [Eph 3:16], and along with Christ we also receive the Father who makes a home with him in those who are worthy.”[20] Thus we experience “intimacy with God” and enjoy “union in love.”[21]
Basil’s theological epistemology tracks and draws out the intricacies of his Trinitarian theology, yet within a transformative spiritual vision where progressing through the persons to the Father corresponds to creational purpose. Human beings were created “according to the image,” and they reawaken to their purpose by regaining vision of “the image,” the Son. The Spirit’s purification and illumination enables the vision, which from the image leads to the glorious “archetype.” The image metaphor reveals the Father, then, as the one to whom our redemptive spiritual vision presses—to his unique “place” within the Trinitarian relations. As Basil’s theology reveals, however, whatever order or distinct texture may be revealed among the Trinitarian persons through the vision, they at the same time are present with one another even as they make us present with them.
A significant question is whether this vision, as laid out by Basil, is a biblical one. As those whose supreme authority and fundamental source for our theology is the God-breathed Word, we are not content simply to quote those who have come before us—no matter how elevated a position they hold within our theological stratosphere, or how many followers they have on Twitter. We must continually engage and exegete biblical texts that form an interconnected web undergirding and informing our theological reflections. So, let us follow some of the biblical paths leading to Basil’s integration of vision and Trinitarian theology.
III. Scriptural Basis
That vision of God is a distinctly biblical idea carrying a host of realities is unmistakable. We could unfold a whole biblical theology of vision, tracing from the highly suggestive and enigmatic texts involving Moses (and others) in Exodus 24 and 33 all the way through the end of Revelation. But perhaps we get at its heart and set it in its proper context by turning first to a poetical description in Psalm 27.
a. Psalm 27 – worship
Here we learn that the Vision begins and ends with worship. In the words of the Psalmist, “One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.” The Psalmist further expresses his ardent desire, “You have said, ‘Seek my face.’ My heart says to you, ‘Your face, LORD, do I seek.’…Teach me your way, O LORD, and lead me on a level path…. I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living!”
What David is after here is an intense knowledge of God conceptualized in terms of a ‘Vision of God.’ This is answering the call of our God who commands, “Seek my face.” Why face? A face is an expression of who someone is. School yearbooks have pictures of faces because, better than elbows or stomachs, they best represent the whole of a person. God is not saying he possesses a face. He is conceiving knowledge in terms of vision and guiding our sights to the whole of his character. The Psalmist is clear a vision for who God is can only be captured in communion with him—in his house, in his Temple. Only a genuine worshipper can behold God’s true beauty and know Him, and, in knowing Him, find transformation. The connections between knowledge of God, communion, and the entailment of our transformation set the table for much of what we will consider through the vision of God as we follow biblical revelation to the Incarnation.
b. John 1:14, 16 – seeing/knowing the incarnate Son
In order to begin to draw out these connections, let us turn to John’s Gospel and the two high points of his prologue, vv. 14 and 18. In v. 14 we are told the Word, who was in the beginning with God [the Father] and “was God”, became flesh. There is something seen in him, though, that goes beyond mere flesh, for John says “we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father.” Then in v. 18 John repeats Exodus 33’s claim about no one ever having seen God but then claims, in light of the incarnation, God the Father has been made known by God the Son: “the only God [that is, God the Word], who is at the Father’s side [or, more accurately, in his bosom], he has made him known.” What I want to highlight in these two verses is how it carries forward the fruitful connection between seeing and knowing from Psalm 27 but focuses our sights now on the only-begotten Son, who brings about a degree of intimacy with the Father heretofore unknown. Though we do not yet see him as he is, faithful attention to God the Son enters one into a vision where God is made known. We see – that is, we know – his glory in the incarnate Son who reveals the Father.
c. Colossians 1:15 & 2 Corinthians 3 – 4 – transformed in the true Image by the Holy Spirit
Indeed, the incarnation focuses the attention of our worshipful vision to behold the face of God in Christ. As Colossians 1:15 instructs us, the true Image of the invisible God is Christ. Set within a transformative vision, the goal of life as those created in the image, the end toward which our lives aspire, is likeness to the Image—likeness to Christ.[22] This dynamic between beholding the Image and being transformed in the Image is elucidated by Paul in a complex passage that extends from 2 Corinthians 3-4, which we will have to merely glean from for the sake of time. Starting in 2 Corinthians 3:7, Paul sets out through a number of allusions and contrasts to highlight the increased glory of God revealed in the New Covenant that we know when we turn to Christ. At the close of the chapter, in v. 18, it says, “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” This passage brings up a host of questions regarding reference to Lord and Spirit, yet it is clear, I think, that a transformation occurs through seeing – beholding – an image. And this transformation occurs by the Holy Spirit. That the image is indeed Christ as revealed in the glorious Gospel is put forth in 4:4, where knowledge is again presented in terms of seeing. Then in 4:6 Paul connects seeing, transformative knowledge, and the heart: “For God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.” The spiritual connection between eyes and heart was perceived well by Augustine when he said, “In your flesh you hear in one place, you see in another; in your heart you hear there where you see.”[23]
d. Ephesians 1:3-14 – union with Christ
Now, we can put a little flesh on these bones of transformation in the Image if we highlight the central Pauline doctrine of ‘union with Christ.” We do not just see the Son as an image from afar—we are “in” him. That is to say, while within the Vision we have our sights set on the Image, we do so as those united to the Image—believers are in union with Christ. Basil eloquently outlined that to properly study God is to ‘enter’ into him through Christ and by the Spirit, and there to be transformed in Christ by the Spirit. In other words, in Christ we have a “place.” This is beautifully laid out in Ephesians 1 where Paul establishes a spiritual topography, as it were, and functions as a kind of cartographer who places us in Christ on his spiritual map. The grand, soaring sentence that takes up most of chapter 1 begins, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.” The apostle goes on then to delineate all of these blessings we enjoy as a result of the love of the Father placing us “in Christ.” From v. 3 through v. 14 he stretches out these blessings all the way from the eternal plan of God to our future inheritance. No less than eleven times Paul refers to ‘in him’ or ‘in Christ.’ What this reinforces is that everything we have by way of having God as our Father is mediated through our union with Christ, including our adoption as “sons” (1:5). An irrevocable relation has been established out of love and grace and it is in and through Christ. Out of that relation we have certain privileges and responsibilities. One of these privileges is a place—what we might call a vantage point. The former bishop of Oxford, Kenneth Kirk, said in his 1928 Bampton Lectures that whereas before Christ many spoke – especially the prophets of the Old Testament – of a vision of God, Christ gives a vision.[24] He gives a vision because “in him” we have a spiritual standpoint. Thus, “union with Christ” establishes for us the fruitful place of our transformation. Returning to a few Johannine texts will add depth to this picture through pinpointing the familial and Trinitarian dimensions of the vision, as well as set us on a course for perceiving its eschatological direction.
e. 1 John 3:1, John 14:6-13 and 17:21 – familial intimacy
A fundamental truth of New Testament spirituality is our place in Christ is a familial one established in the Father’s love: “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are” (1 John 3:1). We are children of the Father; we are so because we are united to the Son by grace through adoption—we are “sons in the Son.” Conceiving of our place in terms of being family – sons and daughters – immediately puts us into the context of Trinitarian relations. What is more, it orients us not only to identify our place of transformation, but also our experience of enjoyment. As we have seen, Basil’s conception of the vision involves an integration with Trinitarian theology where there is a certain texture that is discerned when the Spirit places us in Christ wherein we are transformed and by which we have an eternal Father. Now, of course, we need to be careful to delineate what is by nature, according to the eternal Son, and what is by grace, according to us. Nonetheless, in a text like John 14 the vision of God is revealed to have a texture through eternal divine relations that we in some measure participate in by grace.
John 14:6-13 is replete with references to God as Father and the Son’s relationship with Him that entails our relationship with him. Thomas first asks Jesus to show the disciples the way in v. 5. Jesus tells them in v. 6 He is the way and that no one can come to the Father except through him. Philip follows up in v. 7 by asking Jesus to show them the Father. Jesus replies that to see him is to see the Father, a statement we are prepared for in light of what we saw in 1:18. Jesus has made the invisible God visible. In vv. 10-11 Jesus elaborates further on the closeness of His relationship with the Father, maintaining that he is “in” the Father and the Father is “in” him. What Jesus speaks of with this “in” language is not an identity of persons or some kind of mystical relationship: He is indicating a very close personal family relationship – beyond one with merely a unity of purpose, it is one of intimacy, love and trust. What is astounding is, Jesus turns from describing the Father-Son relationship revealed in the Son and includes his disciples in the dynamics of that relationship. He articulates this simply and beautifully in v. 23, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him.” The intimacy, love and trust between Father and Son will be the disciple’s who shares in the familial bonds. This is precisely what Jesus says in his high priestly prayer in chapter 17 when he prays in v. 21 that “they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us.” This striking “in” language communicates in the highest register human capability to know God within the very relations of the Father and Son.
Through John 14 and 17 we are presented with a rich combination of realities that connect vision of God with the Trinitarian relations, and not in any abstract sense. The apostle John draws us into Trinitarian life, where we share in the intimate home life of the Father and Son. This is effected by the Holy Spirit who dwells in us (John 14:17); and, as Romans 8:15 reveals, it is by the Spirit we can give vent to that intimate cry, “Abba! Father!” If we were listening carefully to these texts we have just considered, we heard them echoed within Basil’s theology. (One note we perhaps did not hear clearly in Basil is the Father-Son dynamic we share in what John explores in chapters 13-17 of his Gospel, but this is more due to my select reading of Basil than a deficiency in his overall theology.) If we were to summarize briefly the Vvsion of God at this point, through Basil’s theological construction and the underlying biblical texts, it would be that it involves personal transformation, through seeing Christ, in the context of Trinitarian relations.
IV. Eschatological Vision
a, 1 John 3:2-3 – the ‘now’ and ‘not yet’
A remaining question regarding the vision is its end. We have seen how the vision entails our progressive transformation in the Image in this present reality. Yet if we return to 1 John 3 and move to v. 2 we discern there is also a “not yet” aspect to our transformation in the Vision that awaits fulfillment, for the apostle says, “when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.” Now, who this “he” is not readily apparent from the grammar of 1 John 3:1-3.[25] However, for obvious contextual reasons extending back to 1 John 2:18, this appearing is a reference to Christ’s second coming.
This is our eschatological hope, a hope John is careful to say redounds into the present in v. 3. For as we look to what is to come – being as fully like Christ as a creature can be – we purify ourselves in the present. We are united in Christ in an objective sense now, but our placement in Christ among our present reality of sin within and without means our communion with him is on a continuum. In this life the increasingly pure in heart have an expanding vision of God as their communion with Christ is deepened, something Jesus taught in the sixth beatitude, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.” What happens, though, when sin is entirely separated from us and from the realm in which we live? What happens when our vision is no longer occluded from the effects of the fall, or hindered by the separation of the domains of Creator and creation? There are some answers we want to rule out right away. Certain mystical trajectories moving in the direction of a kind of divinization of human beings where in heaven we see God in his essence – “as he is in himself” – is an ontological bridge too far. Indeed, to suggest a transgression of the Creator-creature distinction is to slip the control Scripture should maintain on our theology. Even when sin is wiped off the map, and its stain erased from our being, Scripture demands we remain modest with regard to the future hope of the vision of God. Most importantly, God’s incomprehensible nature never changes. We may increase in our knowledge of him, but we will never comprehend him, which, along with many of the church fathers, is what I take knowledge of his essence to mean. Though in the new heavens and new earth we will share the same domain with God, we will ever remain finite creatures. Our capacity to take in his vision will be deepened and broadened once the spiritual glaucoma of sin is removed from our “eyes.” Nonetheless, no matter how high the state of glory will be, even there human beings remain human. In the words of Herman Bavinck, “Humanity’s blessedness indeed lies in the ‘beatific vision of God,’ but this vision will always be such that finite and limited human nature is capable of it.”[26]
b. Ephesians 1:4-6 – elected in love
With those qualifications, there is much to hope for in our eternal state when we shall, in some sense, see God as He is! As we probe the eschatological vision – which is our great hope in this Christian life – I want to emphasize the character of this vision of God as one of holy love. That love marks the eternal character of the vision of God is based in nothing less than our election. Returning to Ephesians 1, where we learned of our union with Christ, Paul bases our eternal place in the Father’s family in his predestinating love: “[4] In love [5] he predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ….” Paul doesn’t stop there, however. In v. 6 he picks up, “to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved.” God’s ultimate purpose is not our redemption but hs glorification, which takes place among “the Beloved.” This is a truth the Westminster Confession of Faith picks up in chapter 3, article 5: In eternity past God loved us in Christ. In eternity future we will glorify him among the eternally loved, that is, “the beloved.” With this notion of love and the beloved we reach the highest peak of Jesus’ prayer to his Father in John 17.
c. John 17:22-26 – shared love among the Father and Son
We turn to that chapter again, to the very end, and see where Jesus moves from the intimacy of “in” language to the character of that communion. Jesus prays to the Father,
[22] The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, [23] I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. [24] Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. [25] O righteous Father, even though the world does not know you, I know you, and these know that you have sent me. [26] I made known to them your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.
Notice how Jesus’ prayer is for our future vision of God. “Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given to me [in election], may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.” So our vision of God is ultimately to share in the love that the Father has for the Son. Jesus obeyed His Father, fulfilling the divine will, “that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.” What is the vision of God at its height, at its depth? It is, yes, to know his glory and worship him, but in that to enjoy the love of God both now and, even more fully, in all of eternity. Our union with Christ will finally be matched by our communion, and all that the Son has known of the Father’s love by nature, we will know by grace. For, as Robert Smith Candlish observed in his 1864 Cunningham Lectures, while there is a difference in dates and the grounds of relation, there is no difference in quality: we are loved by the Father as adopted sons with the same love with which He loves His eternal Son.[27]
d. Revelation 22:1-4 – God’s face and our experience of holy love
We who are in Christ were eternally chosen to be with God out of his grace and love, which we know and experience in the present. Yet there is a fuller measure of knowledge, a greater experience of that love, which awaits, for which we hope. The Revelation of John is replete with images that excite our imaginations as to what this experience will be. We turn to just one in closing out this point, the final scene around the throne of God and the Lamb, Revelation 22:1-4. As John sees the New Jerusalem the vision he presents there recalls the Garden of Eden and is set in contrast to the only things we’ve known, an accursed world:
[1] Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb [2] through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. [3] No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. [4] They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. [5] And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.
Note where the throne is. No longer separate from earth but joined with it, there is immediate access to God’s throne for worshippers. Worship is no longer mediated; his presence is immediate and uninterrupted. To further this point of presence, the face of God is addressed. We are reminded that while the face of God is something we should seek, it is not something we can ultimately see in this life. The holiness and glory would undo us. We cannot take it in. To see God’s face will be to know God in his personal being in holy love where he wipes away every tear from our faces (21:4). The knowledge will not be comprehensive, as we’ve said. But it will be deeply personal, knowing the uninterrupted intercourse of his presence, and to an extent heretofore unknown. This vision will be the heart of our eternal joy in our eternal worship of God where we revel in his love. God is love because God is a trinity of persons who have eternally loved one another, yet in their loving have done so as Father, Son, and Spirit: “See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.” And so we are, because of the Father’s love, a love shared eternally in the Godhead, a love expressed in the work of Christ, a love applied by the Spirit, a love experienced as pilgrims in our state of faith, a love to be fully reveled in and enjoyed when we see God ‘face to face.’
V. Conclusion: Seminary as Enjoyable?
This experience of love is what Paul so mysteriously alludes to in his great “love chapter” (1 Corinthians 13), when he connects seeing with knowing while contrasting our present state with our future one:
[12] For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. [13] So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
Interestingly, Paul’s use here of a mirror analogy suggests our Vision of God not only enhances our knowledge of God; it enhances knowledge of ourselves. We know, but before that we are known. In our future state, our partial knowledge will expand, both of God and ourselves. These thoughts might call to your mind the opening of Calvin’s Institutes. In setting the foundation for theological study, Calvin lays out in that our knowledge of God and of ourselves is intertwined. It is unmistakable: theological study results in self-discovery. That mere suggestion, however, invites a strong caution. Priority must be given to knowing God, because it is in knowing God that we have the perspective to know ourselves. Given sin, knowledge of self can result in a revulsion. Nevertheless, if we situate our knowledge within the expansive vision of God, we will understand our proper and greatest end—our greatest enjoyment. Who would have thought seminary, where we study God and His ways, can increase your enjoyment? But indeed it can, if you approach your studies in the vein of the vision, the vision of God, which casts our lives in light of a holy pursuit of eternity and their end in the enjoyment of God.
It is easy in seminary to live your life on one plane and have your studies exist on another, to treat your time in class and completing assignments as a job, as a card being punched in order to meet some earthly end, to open some occupational or ministerial door. We must resist that natural bifurcation—I say ‘natural’ because it fits with so much of how we are tempted to approach academic study, as a means to some temporary end. Indeed it is a means, but a means to an eternal end. If you are here you are a professing Christian; you see yourself in relation to God. You confess to know Him. You have the Spirit who leads you to want to know Him more. Therefore, press forward in your studies as a son or daughter living in the Father’s house, not as one who only enters the house on Sundays or during your devotional time. You don’t leave that house when you attend class or work on your assignments and papers. Theological study is an opportunity to experience that house more and more as a home, as you are transformed into the character of the firstborn Son, as you speak to the Father in thoughtful prayer through your work. Jesus tells us in John 14:2 that the Father’s house has many rooms and he has gone to prepare a place for us there. The glory of the Christian life is, as those united to the Son by the Spirit, we do enjoy a measure of home life now, even as we await the putting into place of every last rug, cabinet, table setting, cushion—you get the picture.
When we think about the end, the telos of our vision of God, we should primarily think of enjoying the love shared between us and God that will be known and experienced eternity much more fully than it is known and experienced in the present.
That love is the eternal character of our relationship with God is seen, in the last verse in Paul’s love chapter. Why is love greater? Because it is forever. Faith and hope recede once we are with God in the new heavens and new earth. Faith becomes sight—full vision. Hope is fulfilled. But love: love not only goes on as we love God and he loves us; the experience of love will be deepened. The reason is there is an inextricable bond between knowing and loving in the deepest structures of Scripture. We will know/see God as he is, Paul says, even as we are fully known. The intervention of means will cease. There will be an immediacy to our intimacy as we will know the full harvest of our enjoyment of God. Those who know such things, John says, purify themselves in the present. Let us do so, even through our theological study, for the sake of our eyes, so that by grace we may increasingly enjoy God as we glorify him in prayerful study.
[1] Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist, 2nd ed. (Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah Press, 1996), 50.
[2] For examples, see A.A. Hodge (The System of Theology Contained in the Westminster Shorter Catechism Opened and Explained [New York: A. C. Armstrong and Son, 1888], 7-8.) and G.I. Williamson (The Westminster Shorter Catechism For Study Class, 2nd ed. [Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2003], 1-5.).
[3] Fisher’s Catechism (East Stroudsburg, PA: Dovetail Books, 2015), 6.
[4] De Trinitate 1.18; 11.44.
[5] The Works of Benjamin Breckinridge Warfield (Volume 6: “The Westminster Assembly and its Work,” 1931; Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1981), 379.
[6] Hexaemeron (Hex.) 10.4; SC 160:172, 5-9; Harrison, 33: Πατὴρ ἐποίησε διὰ Υἱοῦ, καὶ Υἱός ἐκτίσατο πατρῴῳ θελήματι˙ καὶ δοξάσῃς Πατέρα ἐν Υἱῷ, καὶ Υἱὸν ἐν Πνεύματι ἁγίῳ (“the Father created through the Son, and the Son created by the Father’s will; that you may glorify the Father in the Son, and the Son in the Holy Spirit.”)
[7] The quote is an alteration of Ἐγένου ἵνα Θεὸν βλέπῃς found in Hex. 11.15; SC 160:270, 16-17; Harrison, 61. The last two homilies give special attention to Genesis 1:26-27 and the theological implications of the creation of humanity. In Hex. 11.15-17 Basil contrasts the way human beings were made with beasts whose heads incline downward. God created humans “upright” and gave a special and distinct structure, including a head that is uniquely placed so that the eyes can gaze upward – “where Christ is”. After making a spiritual association between the position of the head and eyes and humanity’s purpose of seeing God, Basil details how the physical structure of human beings supports the position of the head and eyes. English translations of Hex. are adapted from Nonna Verna Harrison, trans., On the Human Condition (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2005).
[8] Spir. 18.47; SC 17 bis:412, 17-23; Hildebrand, 83: Ἡ…ὁδὸς τῆς θεογνωσίας ἐστὶν ἀπο ἑνὸς Πνεύματος, διὰ τοῦ ἑνὸς Υἱοῦ, ἐπὶ τὸν ἕνα Πατέρα. Καὶ ἀνάπαλιν, ἡ φυσικὴ ἀγαθότης, καὶ ὁ κατὰ φύσιν ἁγιασμός, καὶ τὸ βασιλικὸν ἀξίωμα, ἐκ Πατρός, διὰ τοῦ Μονογενοῦς, ἐπὶ τὸ Πνεῦμα διήκει. Οὕτω καὶ αἱ ὑποστάσεις ὁμολογοῦνται, καὶ τὸ εὐσεβὲς δόγμα τῆς μοναρχίας οὐ διαπίπτει. English translations of Spir. are adapted from Stephen Hildebrand, trans., On the Holy Spirit (Yonkers, NY: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2011).
[9] In Spir. Basil highlights the Spirit’s work as united and indivisible from that of the Father and Son. He quotes 1 Corinthians 12:11 to explain, however, how the gifts given by God are understood from the ‘human point of view’. While there is unity among the divine persons in the giving of gifts, the ‘point of contact’ for humans is the Spirit: “For [Paul] begins from our point of view, since when we receive gifts, we first encounter the one who distributes them, then we consider the one who sent them, and then we turn our minds to the source and cause of them (ἐπειδὴ ὑποδεχόμενοι τὰ δῶρα, πρῶτον ἐντυγχάνομεν τῷ διανέμοντι ˙ εἶτα ἐννοοῦμεν τὸν ἀποστείλαντα ˙ εἶτα ἀνάγομεν τὴν ἐνθύμησιν ἐπὶ τὴν πηγὴν καὶ αἰτίαν τῶν ἀωαθῶν)” (16.37; SC 17:376, 33-36; Hildebrand, 70).
[10] Ibid. Cf., Eun. 2.23; 3.4.
[11] Spir. 26.64; SC 17 bis:474-476, 1-23; Hildebrand, 103: ὅτι ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ Υἱῷ ὡρᾶται ὁ Πατήρ, οὕτως ὁ Υἱὸς ἐν τῷ Πνεύματι. Ἡ τοίνυν ἐν τῷ Πνεύματι προσκύνησις, τὴν ὡς ἐν φωτὶ γινομένην τῆς διανοίας ἡμῶν ἐνέργειαν ὑποβάλλει…. ἐν τῷ Υἱῷ προσκύνησιν λέγομεν, τὴν ὡς ἐν εἰκόνι τοῦ Θεοῦ καὶ Πατρός, οὕτω καὶ ἐν τῷ Πνεύματι, ὡς ἐν τῇ προσκυνήσει ἀχώριστον ἀπὸ Πατρὸς καὶ Υἱοῦ τὸ Πνεῦμα τὸ ἅγιον. Ἔξω μὲν γὰρ ὑπάρχων αὐτοῦ, οὐδὲ προσκυνήσεις τὸ παράπαν ˙ ἐν αὐτῷ δὲ γενόμενος οὐδενὶ πρόπῳ ἀποχωρίσεις ἀπὸ Θεοῦ ˙ οὐ μᾶλλόν γε, ἢ τῶν ὁρατῶν ἀποστήσεις τὸ φῶς. Ἀδύνατον γὰρ ἰδεῖν τὴν εἰκόνα τοῦ Θεοῦ τοῦ ἀοράτου, μὴ ἐν τῷ φωτισμῷ τοῦ Πνεύματος. Καὶ τὸν ἐνατενίζοντα τῇ εἰκόνι, ἀμήχανον τῆς εἰκόνος άποχωρίσαι τὸ φῶς. Τὸ γὰρ τοῦ ὁρᾶν αἴτιον, ἐξ ἀνάγκης συγκαθορᾶται τοῖς ὁρατοῖς. Ὥστε οἰκείως καὶ ἀκολούθως διὰ μὲν τοῦ καθορῶμεν ˙ διὰ δὲ τοῦ χαρακτῆρος, ἐπὶ τὸν οὗ ἐστιν ὁ χαρακτὴρ καὶ ἡ ἰσότυπος σφρωὶς ἀναγόμεθα.For Basil, the image metaphor is an extension of Colossians 1:15.
[12] Spir. 26.62; SC 17:472, 11-12; Hildebrand, 101: ἰδεῖν γνωστῶς…τὸν Θεὸν.
[13] Spir. 26.64; SC 17 bis:476, 19-20; Hildebrand, 103: Τὸ γὰρ τοῦ ὁρᾶν αἴτιον, ἐξ ἀνάγκης συγκαθορᾶται τοῖς ὁρατοῖς.
[14] Spir. 26.64; SC 17 bis:476, 18-19; Hildebrand, 103: “t is impossible for him who fixes his eyes on the image to separate the light from the image (τὸν ἐνατενίζοντα τῇ εἰκόνι, ἀμήχανον τῆς εἰκόνος ἀποχωρίσαι τὸ φῶς.).”
[15] Spir. 18.47; SC 17 bis:412, 1-2; Hildebrand, 82: τῷ κάλλει τῆς τοῦ Θεοῦ τοῦ ἀοράτου εἰκόνος ἐνατενίζομεν.
[16] Spir. 18.45; SC 17 bis:406, 19-20; Hildebrand, 81: τὸ πρωτότυπον.
[17] Ibid.: διαβαίνει.
[18] Spir. 18.47; SC 17 bis:412, 1-3; Hildebrand, 82: τῷ κάλλει τῆς τοῦ Θεοῦ τοῦ ἀοράτου εἰκόνος ἐνατενίζομεν, καὶ δι᾽αὐτῆς ἀναγόμεθα ἐπὶ τὸ ὑπέρκαλον τοῦ ἀρχετύπου θέαμα.
[19] Hom 24.4. Cf. Spir. 26.64
[20] Hom. 24.5; PG 31, 609; DelCogliano, 298: Ἁγιαζόμενοι…διὰ τοῦ Πνεύματος, δεχόμεθα τὸν Χριστὸν κατοικοῦντα ἡμῶν εἰς τὸν ἔσω ἄνθρωπόν, καὶ μετὰ τοῦ Χριστοῦ τὸν Πατέρα, κοινὴν ποιούμενον τὴν μονὴν παρὰ τοῖς ἀξίοις.
[21] Hom. 6; PG 31, 344b: ἡ προσεδεία τοῦ θεοῦ, καὶ ἡ διὰ τῆς ἀγάπης συνάφεια.
[22] Some Fathers, such as Irenaeus and Basil, saw a distinction between the “image” and “likeness” of Genesis 1:26. The former is something irrevocable and static, the latter something we grow into.
[23] Tractates on the Gospel of John 11–27, trans. by John W. Rettig (The Fathers of the Church, Volume 79; Washington DC, CUA Press, 1988) 136.
[24] K.E. Kirk, The Vision of God (Harrisburg, PA: Morehouse Publishing, 1991), 46.
[25] Grammatically, it could be a ‘he’ or even an ‘it.’ For the sentence that reads “when he appears” has no nominative to which the ‘he’ or ‘it’ supplied by the verb refers. Some translations go ahead and insert “Christ,” that is, “when Christ appears” even though that is not within the Greek text (φανερωθῇ). The ESV does not interpret the sentence that far, leaving it at just ‘he.’ I think we are on good contextual footing, however, to interpret this as Christ’s appearance. The reason for this is the flow of John’s argument, which takes us back to the previous chapter. Beginning in 1 John 2:18 John argues that the antichrist denies the Father and Son. In order to have the Father one must confess the Son and abide in Him. In v. 28, then, John commands us to “abide in him, so that when he appears…” This appearing is referring to the Son, and I think it is clear the appearance in 1 John 3:2 is a continuation of this same idea and, therefore, refers to Christ’s second coming.
[26] Reformed Dogmatics, trans. John Vriend (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2004), 2:191.
[27] The Fatherhood of God: Cunningham Lectures (Charleston, SC: Nabu Press, 2010), 174.
Volume 1 Issue 2
September 2016 | 119 pages
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Post by Admin on Apr 8, 2024 15:39:55 GMT -5
Is Biblicism Impossible? A Review Article
John M. Frame
J. D. Trimble Professor of Systematic Theology and Philosophy
Reformed Theological Seminary, Orlando
Christian Smith. The Bible Made Impossible: Why Biblicism is Not a Truly Evangelical Reading of Scripture. Grand Rapids: Brazos Press, 2011. xvi, 220 pp.
I was attracted to this book by the author’s use of the term “Biblicism,” which I also used in my article “In Defense of Something Close to Biblicism.”[1] Smith himself read my article (p. 4) and describes it as “thoughtful,” though he does not respond to its specific content. In a footnote (p. 200), he says that what I define as Biblicism is “even more objectionable” than what he describes under his own definition. But even his own less objectionable concept is, in his mind, highly objectionable. He says,
The “biblicism” that pervades much of American evangelicalism is untenable and needs to be abandoned in favor of a better approach to Christian truth and authority. By untenable I do not simply mean that it is wrong, but rather that it is literally impossible, at least when attempted consistently on its own terms. It cannot literally be sustained, practiced, and defended. Biblicism is one kind of an attempt to explain and act on the authority of the Bible, but it is a misguided one. In the end it cannot and in fact does not work. (p. 3)
In this quoted passage, Smith says about seven times that biblicism is wrong. This is typical of the book. He frequently commends his own argument by asserting that it is definitive, certain, and irrefutable. He reminds me of a college debater who thinks he has to keep reminding his audience of what a good debater he is. Of course it is one thing to claim that your position is right, another thing to establish its truth.
In this response, I will first analyze Smith’s concept of “Biblicism,” asking if it is a coherent concept and whether it is an accurate description of the predominant evangelical approach to Scripture. Then I shall examine Smith’s reason for denying Biblicism in this sense, what he calls “pervasive interpretive pluralism.” Finally I shall look at Smith’s alternative to Biblicism, a sort of Christocentric approach to the Bible.
Biblicism
Early in the book, he says,
By ‘biblicism’ I mean a theory about the Bible that emphasizes together its exclusive authority, infallibility, perspicuity, self-sufficiency, internal consistency, self- evident meaning, and universal applicability. (p. viii)
Here, note that Smith makes the issue a matter of emphasis. One has to ask whether a theologian who believes in all these different items, but does not emphasize them, should be considered a Biblicist. And since emphasis is a matter of degree, that raises the question, how much does one need to emphasize these beliefs in order to be a Biblicist? What about a theologian who never mentions any of these ideas, except in one book which he writes about, say, the concept of infallibility?
Arguments about emphasis take some of the edge off of a discussion. If Smith were telling us not to believe in biblical infallibility, then he would provoke a sharp exchange; if he is telling us that we may believe it, but should not emphasize it so much, then he reduces the sharpness of his critique, and perhaps also of his opponents’ responses. But arguments about emphasis are necessarily vague and imprecise. They do not easily comport with claims that a rival view “needs to be abandoned.” If the discussion is about emphasis, Smith should be telling us that biblical infallibility in fact does not need to be abandoned, but that we need to quit emphasizing it so much. If emphasis is the issue, then it seems to me that Smith would have needed to employ a very different kind of critical argument.
In the rest of the book, Smith does not appear to be concerned with mere emphasis. Rather, he thinks that Biblicism is false, untenable, needs to be abandoned, is literally impossible, cannot literally be sustained, practiced, and defended, is misguided, cannot work, and does not work. What troubles Smith is clearly not an emphasis but a false belief. And I will treat his position as such in the remainder of this review.
Now on pp. 4-5, Smith presents the elements of Biblicism as he understands them, ten of them, in a somewhat more formal way. I will consider them in order, asking what they mean and whether they accurately describe the predominant evangelical view of Scripture.
1. Divine writing: The Bible, down to the details of its words, consists of and is identical with God’s very own words written inerrantly in human language. (p. 4)
This first principle of Biblicism is a pretty good statement of what evangelicals usually call “verbal inspiration.” It seems that at this point the battle is joined. Evangelicals defend verbal inspiration, and Smith opposes it. But it is not so simple. For he says earlier,
My argument as follows does not question the doctrine of the divine inspiration of the Bible. Nor am I here discounting the crucially important role that the Bible must play…(p. viii)
So Smith denies verbal inspiration, but not inspiration as such. The cogency of his argument requires him to give us an alternative account of what inspiration is, but he adds in a footnote, “Although neither am I here developing a position on what exactly inspiration means and implies (p. 199).” He refers us then to a portion of Craig Allert’s A High View of Scripture? which, I assume, sets forth a view of inspiration more acceptable to him.
Evangelicals will certainly find this unpersuasive. Given that Smith rejects the Biblicist formulation, he really ought to tell us what he thinks is wrong with it. Is it that God has inspired the words, but not the “details” of the words? What would that mean? Does Smith disagree with the very idea that God could inspire words, as opposed to thoughts or ideas? But countless evangelicals claim to have refuted the notion of “thought-inspiration” as opposed to verbal inspiration. The Bible itself often claims to record the words of God, but rarely if ever his non-verbal ideas.
Or is the key to Smith’s objection to be found in the idea that God’s words can be “written inerrantly in human language?” This is not the issue of “biblical inerrancy.” Biblical inerrancy is the view that the words of the Bible are all true, that they never assert anything erroneous. But “inerrantly” in Smith’s quoted definition refers to the writing of God’s words. So the question is whether God’s words are accurately reproduced in the biblical text. Evangelicals say that they are, though they typically restrict this kind of inerrancy to the autographs of Scripture.
But if the words of God are recorded in Scripture erroneously, then to that extent they are not recorded in Scripture at all, and Scripture is not the word of God. It is partly the word of God and partly the failed attempts of human beings to record that word accurately. Smith claims that he does not question the inspiration of the Bible. But inspiration refers to an act in which God creates an identity between his words and some human words. If Smith has a different definition in mind, he should certainly tell us what it is, rather than telling us in a footnote that he refuses to say what inspiration means and implies. Given the standard definition of inspiration, Smith implies that the Bible as a whole is not inspired, but that parts of it may be.
Smith’s second defining principle of Biblicism is this:
2. Total Representation: The Bible represents the totality of God’s communication to and will for humanity, both in containing all that God has to say to humans and in being the exclusive mode of God’s true communication. (p. 4)
This is an extremely sloppy formulation, since it ignores the doctrines both of general revelation and of Spiritual illumination which have been held by all branches of the church including evangelicals. Further, God’s “true communication,” according to all these branches of the church, includes the oral communications of the Father from heaven, of prophets and apostles, and of Jesus himself, not just the text of Scripture. I don’t believe that any professing Christian capable of understanding this statement would ever accept it.
Now Smith is not a theologian, but a sociologist (xii). But this is a book of theology, and its readers do not have the authority to cut him some slack. He is attacking certain theological views, so the debate must be conducted according to serious theological criteria. He has no hesitation about saying that his arguments make his opponents views “impossible.” Those opponents have the right to call him to account for misrepresentations and incompetent formulations.
Then,
3. Complete Coverage: The divine will about all of the issues relevant to Christian belief and life are contained in the Bible. (p. 4)
Here Smith appears to be trying to formulate the doctrine of the sufficiency of Scripture, which has a long history in Protestantism, as in the Westminster Confession of Faith, 1.6.[2] It is relevant here to point out that Smith joined the Roman Catholic Church after completing the book (p. xiii, 191).[3] The sufficiency of Scripture has since the Reformation been a point of contention between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism.
I don’t have much to object to in Smith’s formulation, but I am bothered a bit by its relation to his very objectionable formulation #2. Perhaps Smith thinks that #3 follows from #2 and that #2 provides the only basis for believing #3. I deny those claims. And though I agree with #3 that God’s will on all the issues relevant to Christian faith and life is “contained in” the Bible, I would insist on two distinctions: (1) a distinction between something being “contained” in the Bible and something being “explicit” in the Bible. The WCF distinguishes between what is “expressly” set forth in Scripture and what may be “deduced” from Scripture by “good and necessary consequence.” I can accept Smith’s #3 if “contained” includes truths that are not explicit, but only implicit and therefore available to us through good and necessary consequence. (2) We should also distinguish between what is “expressly” contained in Scripture and what are legitimate applications of Scripture. The eighth commandment forbids stealing, but it does not expressly forbid Joe from taking Jim’s wallet without authorization. The latter is an application of the former. But we normally assume that such applications are biblically warranted, though they are not explicit or expressly stated in Scripture. So to make applications of Scripture, we must of course have knowledge of matters outside Scripture.
If Smith’s #3 allows for these two distinctions, I can accept it as a formulation of the sufficiency of Scripture, that is, sola Scriptura. It is helpful to remember that sola Scriptura does not say that the Bible contains all the information we need to make decisions. What it says is that the Bible contains all the divine words that we need (“divine will” in Smith’s formulation).
4. Democratic Perspicuity: Any reasonably intelligent person can read the Bible in his or her own language and correctly understand the plain meaning of the text. (4)
Here, Smith tries to format the classic doctrine of the “clarity” or “perspicuity” of Scripture, another matter of disagreement between the Protestant Reformers and the Roman church. Again, it is interesting to compare Smith’s formulation with the classic formulation, as in WCF 1.7:
All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all: yet those things which are necessary to be known, believed, and observed for salvation, are so clearly propounded, and opened in some place of Scripture or other, that not only the learned, but the unlearned, in a due use of the ordinary means, may attain unto a sufficient understanding of them.
The point of such statements in their original context was to reject the Roman Catholic view that laymen should not read the Scriptures since they were not adequately trained, but that laymen should simply bow before the teaching of the Roman magisterium. But given all the qualifications of this principle in the WCF formulation, it is misleading for Smith to call this doctrine “democratic.” We do need help in understanding the Bible (as the WCF puts it, “a due use of the ordinary means”), and one major source of help is the preachers and teachers that God has raised up.
5. Commonsense Hermeneutics: The best way to understand biblical texts is by reading them in their explicit, plain, most obvious, literal sense, as the author intended them at face value, which may or may not involve taking into account their literary, cultural, and historical contexts. (p. 4)
There is indeed among some evangelicals a kind of ignorant common-sense literalism that despises serious biblical scholarship. That is unfortunate. However (1) this problem also exists outside of evangelicalism, among some Roman Catholics, for example.[4] (2) In fact the Scriptures were written in the common languages of the Jews and Greeks. If its words are not exhaustively understandable by the most uneducated, neither is its gospel restricted to the wise of this world.
6. Solo[5] Scriptura: The significance of any biblical text can be understood without reliance on creeds, confessions, historical church traditions, or other forms of larger theological hermeneutical frameworks, such that theological formulations can be built up directly out of the Bible from scratch. (p. 4)
Again, this paragraph may rightly indict some evangelical theology, but certainly not all of it, and certainly not the most respected forms of it. What evangelical theologians do insist upon, at their best, is that the role of all secondary theological sources is to illumine the Bible, and that to the extent that they do not, they have no usefulness. That would be a topic worth discussing in Smith’s book, but so far as I know he does not discuss it; he prefers to thrash his straw man.
7. Internal Harmony: All related passages of the Bible on any given subject fit together almost like puzzle pieces into single, unified, internally consistent bodies of instruction about right and wrong beliefs and behaviors. (p. 5)
Since evangelicals believe that Scripture is God’s speech in human words, it should not be surprising that they also think these words are true, and that these words are consistent with one another. Smith’s puzzle-pieces metaphor is gratuitous. Evangelical theology at its best understands that the “pieces” must be arranged in many patterns simultaneously and applied to a vast number of human life-contexts. But it is often important, when seeking guidance from Scripture, to look up multiple passages on the same subject and to deal with apparent inconsistencies. I see no reason to criticize such a procedure, assuming what evangelicals assume about the nature of Scripture.
8. Universal Applicability: What the biblical authors taught God’s people at any point in history remains universally valid for all Christians at every other time, unless explicitly revoked by subsequent scriptural teaching. (p. 5)
Every biblical teaching is universal in the sense that everyone should recognize it as the word of God. But every biblical teaching is also given with a particular situation in view. In Matt. 21:1-2, Jesus asked two disciples to bring to him a donkey and a colt. That command was given on one occasion, for that occasion only, for those particular disciples and not for every Christian. “Do not steal” is more universal, but even that command presupposes a situation: it is given to human beings, not animals or inanimate objects; it presupposes an economy in which people have their own private property. How does one determine the extent to which the meaning of a teaching is conditioned on a particular circumstance? By responsible exegesis. Sometimes “subsequent scriptural teaching” will settle the matter, but sometimes not. Jesus never explicitly revokes the command of Matt. 21:1-2. But its situational conditioning is obvious. Evangelicals (and other Christians!) do argue about the conditioning contexts of divine commands, and sometimes they argue irresponsibly. But I think they are usually fairly sensible about it.
9. Inductive Method: All matters of Christian belief and practice can be learned by sitting down with the Bible and piecing together through careful study the clear “biblical” truths that it teaches. (p. 5)
If sola Scriptura is true (see #3, #4, and #6 above), then certainly it is true that issues of Christian belief and practice should be resolved through Bible study. For the sense in which those teachings are “clear,” see #4 above. “Piecing together” is another of Smith’s metaphors which serves only to trivialize an important process. But to the extent that it intends to evoke the “internal harmony” presupposed by the evangelical doctrine of Scripture (#7) it does describe what evangelicals do. But that process ought to be, and usually is, far more complicated, communal, and prayerful than Smith’s metaphor suggests.
He then adds a tenth principle that he thinks follows from principles 1-9.
10. Handbook Model: The Bible teaches doctrine and morals with every affirmation that it makes, so that together these affirmations comprise something like a handbook or textbook for Christian belief and living, a compendium of divine and therefore inerrant teachings on a full array of subjects—including science, economics, health, politics, and romance. (5)
Here again Smith invokes a metaphor in order to trivialize[6] a process that he might have taken more seriously. Smith does not say exactly what makes this metaphor appropriate, and he ought to, since he evidently aspires to make here a significant critique of Biblicism. Does he deny that “the Bible teaches doctrine and morals with every affirmation that it makes?” That depends, perhaps, on one’s definition of doctrine and morals. But if the definition is fairly open-ended (doctrine is what I must believe, morals what I must do), and if “affirmation” means “state as God’s word,” then certainly every affirmation demands obedient belief or behavior.
Or is Smith objecting to the evangelical view of the breadth of Scripture’s subject matter (science, economics, etc.)? If so, he has a legitimate complaint. We do need to beware the temptation to make Scripture teach things (about science and the like) that it doesn’t teach; and I do think evangelicals are more susceptible than other professing Christians to fall to this temptation. On the other hand, we should not fall into the error of thinking that Scripture says nothing about these subjects. There is no principle of Scripture that God will speak to us only about A and not about B. Although Scripture focuses on certain subjects rather than others, God’s word never leaves any aspect of human existence alone (1 Cor. 10:31).
I am certainly inclined to agree with Smith (and many evangelicals) that Scripture is not a “textbook” of science, for example. Biblical teachings (including the personal rather than the impersonal origin of all things) are sometimes of great importance to science.[7] But you cannot learn physics from the Bible alone. On the other hand, the Bible has a great deal to say about marriage—much more than it says about physics. Any Christian who seeks to counsel people in a troubled marriage needs to understand, as his highest priority, what the Bible says, and does not say, about marriage. I cannot imagine that Smith would find this objectionable. But he evidently has not thought seriously about the range of content the Bible actually includes.
To summarize: Smith has listed ten characteristics of what he calls Biblicism. He makes the factual claim that most evangelicals are Biblicist in this sense and the value judgment that this is bad. He will expound that value judgment more fully in the rest of the book, but he begins it here, by phrasing the ten characteristics in pejorative and trivializing ways. I have tried to show that although some of these items truly represent evangelical belief and practice, others do not, and even those that do are sometimes phrased in misleading ways.
Pervasive Interpretive Pluralism
Smith’s most central critique of Biblicism is based, not on the nature of the Bible, but on the actual use of the Bible by Biblicists.[8] In short, the problem is that when Biblicists use the Bible for guidance they typically disagree on what it says to them. Smith narrates four scenarios in which people consult an “authoritative” source (a map, binoculars, an owner’s manual for a camera, a cookbook) that leads them in different directions (p. 16). He applies these illustrations to Biblicism:
These four hypothetical scenarios depict something like the quandary in which Biblicist believers find themselves. The very same Bible—which biblicists insist is perspicuous and harmonious—gives rise to divergent understandings among intelligent, sincere, committed readers about what it says about most topics of interest. Knowledge of “biblical” teachings, in short, is characterized by pervasive interpretive pluralism. (p. 17)
Whatever Scripture is, he says, it cannot function as biblicists expect it to, because readers differ on what it means. So Biblicism must be wrong. But then Smith returns to his scenarios:
Furthermore and very importantly, none of the differences among users that arose in these scenarios will ever get resolved simply by their focusing and insisting on the believed official, certified, or authorized qualities of the road map, binoculars, owner’s manual, and cookbook per se. (p. 17)
Evidently he believes that focusing on the Bible and its authority will never settle any of the disagreements within Christendom about what the Bible says.
Of course, it is not news to anybody that professing Christians disagree on all sorts of things. Smith, however, does an impressive job of presenting how extensive the disagreement is:
On most matters of significance concerning Christian doctrine, salvation, church life, practice, and morality, different Christians—including different Biblicist Christians—insist that the Bible teaches positions that are divergent and often incompatible with one another. (p. 22)
He then lists 34 different multiview books (three views, four views, five views) on different issues: the atonement, baptism, the doctrine of God, church government, etc. He adds,
Another popular evangelical book compares two, three, or four alternative, Bible-based, evangelical views on each of seventeen theological concerns about which contemporary evangelicals disagree—in theory creating more than five million unique, potential theological belief positions that any given person might espouse, composed of possible combinations of the alternative views. (p. 23-24)
The five million figure, of course, exaggerates the actual problem, and I’m sure that Smith understands that. But the amount of disagreement in the church is staggering on any account.
Smith then considers some Biblicist explanations for this pluralism. These are (1) the intellectual and spiritual deficiencies of readers, (2) textual corruption in the copies of Scripture, (3) the noetic effects of sin, (4) differing levels of illumination, (5) the truth as a higher synthesis of all the different interpretations, and (6) God’s intent to create ambiguity in Scripture for a good purpose. (p. 38-39)
I think that (1), (3), and (4) are essentially the same, focusing on inadequacies of the readers. I think that these are the ones most likely to answer Smith’s difficulties.[9] Citing (1), Smith grants that it may explain some differences of interpretation,
But that itself can hardly explain the divergent interpretations to which the Bible has recurrently given rise among well-meaning believers throughout church history and today. (p. 39)
He seems to be saying that although inadequacies in readers may explain some divergent interpretations, there are just too many of these to explain them all this way. The quantity of divergence is just too great.
But how does one measure quantity in such a context? Is the problem that one should expect 13% diversity on a Biblicist basis, but in fact we have 85%? How do we learn that 13% is the cutoff point?
I think we should look at the problem from a different angle. The rate of doctrinal diversity in the church is certainly high, and shamefully so.[10] But what Smith rarely if ever notes is that there is also a remarkable amount of doctrinal unity. The Apostles’, Nicene, and Chalcedonian creeds bear witness to that. There are some doctrines that every Christian confesses, so that they virtually define what a Christian is. Every Christian confesses the existence of one God, of Jesus Christ his only Son, and of the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life. Every Christian holds that Christ was crucified under Pontius Pilate, died to deal with sin, and rose again from the dead. Protestant, Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, all confess these truths. This is what the united church teaches, and this is what the Scriptures teach. Indeed, the church believes these doctrines “according to the Scriptures.” So in these areas the Bible is not irrelevant to the establishment of these doctrines. Indeed, in one sense Scripture is a cause of the church’s doctrinal unity.[11]
Among these basic doctrines, we should include the principles of the Ten Commandments in matters of ethics and worship. Surely, nobody can be accounted a Christian who believes that we may have other gods before Yahweh, or bow to graven images, or take God’s name in vain. Christians disagree, to be sure, on what it means to keep the Sabbath today. But nobody can claim to be a Christian who thinks it is legitimate to hate his father and mother, to murder, to commit adultery, to steal, to bear false witness against a neighbor, or to covet.
This degree of unity is substantial, and this unified message has carried the reach of the church from Palestine to nearly all the world, so that Christianity has become the most populous religion on earth, estimated at 2.1 billion adherents. That is 2.1 billion people who confess the propositions of the Apostles’ Creed. That is a significant degree of unity.
That unity comes from the unity of the message of the Word of God (Rom. 10:17), from the apostolic preaching of Christ to the written transcriptions of that preaching in the Holy Scriptures. Whatever diversity has arisen in the hearing of the word, the Scriptures have been sufficient to set forth the message that has brought together 2.1 billion people in amazing agreement. I would not call this a Biblicist model of gospel dissemination, for I don’t buy into the caricatures Smith incorporates into his concept of Biblicism. But this is a picture of a powerful, authoritative divine word, which sweeps the debris of sinful distortion aside and brings people together in Jesus’ name.
I am not suggesting that we should simply ignore the massive level of diversity that Smith has documented. But we need to see that in perspective. Consider a believer, whom I shall call Carl. When Carl commits his life to Christ, he thereby subscribes to the truths of the Gospel, the truths of the creed. Those truths become his spiritual and intellectual foundation, the ultimate certainties of his heart. Christ is more certain to him than any scientific, economic, political, or philosophical theory.
But beyond these certainties, there is much that Carl does not know, and would like to know. He would like to know how the church should be governed, whether infants should be baptized, whether the elements of the Lord’s Supper are the literal body and blood of Jesus. Different people tell him different things. He turns, then, to study the Scriptures prayerfully. He hopes to gain more certainty, but the process of study may be slow, full of ups and downs, acceptance and rejection of different doctrines.
Since different Christians make different choices through this process, a large amount of diversity develops. This increasing diversity is in part due to spiritual and other inadequacies in the readers. But it happens.
Can the church tolerate this? Yes, it can. Certainly it has, historically. Under God’s providence, and his promise to protect the church, the church has survived two thousand years of too much diversity. This diversity is in part a sin, in part a trial, in part a divine challenge to his people.
This model of divine guidance is strange; we would expect something much more straightforward. But it is perfectly compatible with the traditional[12] view of biblical inspiration and authority. Indeed, it is what we should expect if the traditional view of biblical authority is true. The church’s corporate study of Scripture has produced an astonishing level of agreement, but in many areas also disagreement.
Christological Hermeneutics
We have looked at Smith’s concept of Biblicism, and his main critique of it, “pervasive interpretive pluralism.” In my view, this pluralism, while substantial, is not nearly as pervasive as Smith thinks it is, and not at all inconsistent with the traditional evangelical doctrine of Scripture, which Smith calls “Biblicism.” Smith, however, thinks this pluralism makes the traditional view to be “impossible.” So he seeks to replace it with a different approach to Scripture, which we must now examine.
That different approach is to read Scripture with Christ at the center:
The purpose, center, and interpretive key to scripture is Jesus Christ. It is embarrassing to have to write this, for it should be obvious to all Christians. But I am afraid this is not always so obvious in practice in Biblicist circles. At least the profound implications of this fact for reading scripture are not always obvious to many evangelicals. Truly believing that Jesus Christ is the real purpose, center, and interpretive key to scripture causes one to read the Bible in a way that is very different than believing the Bible to be an instruction manual containing universally applicable divine oracles concerning every possible subject it seems to address. (p. 97-98)
Indeed, Smith is right to say that this “should be obvious to all Christians.” It was Jesus himself who taught us to see “in all the scriptures the things concerning himself” (Luke 24:27). Christians from all traditions have affirmed this principle—not only Karl Barth, to whom Smith appeals (p. 121-26), but also many Christians whom Smith is inclined to call “Biblicist.” Vern Poythress, for example, whom Smith criticizes several times (p. 22, 109, 110, 133) as biblicistic, is well-known as an advocate of Christocentric exegesis and preaching.[13] Poythress teaches at Westminster Theological Seminary[14] which Smith relegates to the Biblicist side (p. 13-14, 204, 211). But Westminster is deeply influenced by Geerhardus Vos, Edmund P. Clowney, and Richard B. Gaffin who, in addition to Poythress, are famous for understanding Scripture as a Christ-centered redemptive history. This emphasis on Christocentrism has become quite pervasive in evangelicalism, especially over the past fifty years or so. It would be very difficult today to find any evangelical theologian or pastor who would not subscribe to the first sentence of the paragraph I quoted above.
The question, then, is not whether Jesus Christ is the central theme of Scripture. The question concerns the negative side of Smith’s proposal.[15] Smith not only endorses Christological exegesis, but he wants also to insist that such a focus excludes “believing the Bible to be an instruction manual containing universally applicable divine oracles concerning every possible subject it seems to address.” Now we must first make some allowance for Smith’s tendency to create straw men. I know of nobody who thinks that the Bible is an “instructional manual” on “every possible subject it seems to address.” Indeed, I know of nobody who may be reasonably suspected of holding such a view of Scripture. Evangelicals are not so stupid as to think that the Bible is an instruction manual on car repairs, or even on the construction of boats (which arguably is “addressed” in Acts 27). But they do sometimes publish books on biblical views of politics, economics, family, and some other things.[16]
But there is a good reason to focus, sometimes, on what the Bible teaches on such issues. I mentioned in an earlier footnote Smith’s comments about Poythress on p. 109-110. In Symphonic Theology,[17] says Smith, Poythress moves from an initial Christocentric focus to a Biblicist perspective. The link between these is Poythress’s contention that Scripture contains a single worldview. But Poythress’ contention follows directly from a statement of basic doctrine that Smith approves, saying that it “sounds like the Apostles’ Creed” (p. 109). Smith approves of Poythress’s creedal language, but denies his worldview language.
It seems then that a crucial issue here is whether the Christological story entails a worldview. Poythress says yes, Smith no. In my view, Poythress is clearly right. The Christology of the Bible tells us that Jesus is Lord over all. If we believe this, it will affect what we believe about everything else, including politics, economics, and family. Those who trust Jesus as lord of all will search his word to find how that lordship affects all the affairs of life: “Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31). If Christ authorizes a certain kind of politics or family structure, we need to learn what that is. And if he authorizes a particular kind of family structure, it would not be wrong under some circumstances to organize that teaching into a “handbook.”
The question is whether a Christocentric focus excludes, or may include, concerns with things and persons other than Christ. Smith is unclear here. From what we have seen so far, he seems to think that Christocentrism excludes such concerns. But on p. 111, he puts it this way:
This is not to say that evangelical Christians will never have theologically informed moral and practical views of dating and romance… They may and will. But the significance and content of all such views will be defined completely in terms of thinking about them in view of the larger facts of Jesus Christ and the gospel—not primarily by gathering and arranging pieces of scriptural texts that seem to be relevant to such topics in order to pinpoint “the biblical view” on them. Those are two very different kinds of theological exercises that can lead to very different outcomes.
Smith claims that these are “two very different kinds of theological exercises,” but he has not clarified to my satisfaction the difference between them. Obviously any Christian who writes about biblical principles will seek to make those principles subservient to Christ and the gospel. He may fail adequately to integrate his “biblical principles” with the gospel. But that is certainly a matter of degree and critics will see it in different ways. What is the actual difference? Does Smith think that “gathering and arranging pieces of scriptural texts” always detracts from Christocentricity? Why would he think that?[18] Scripture itself sometimes gathers and arranges pieces of Scripture texts on a common topic, as in Acts 2 and Heb. 1.
If Christ is lord, then Poythress is right: Scripture does teach a unified worldview. And if Scripture teaches a unified worldview, then it speaks not only to large theological realities, but also to the details of human life.
There are, of course, right and wrong ways to apply Scripture to our lives. We are all too prone to think that Scripture requires x when it does not. That is a hermeneutical and exegetical question. But such questions cannot always be resolved by telling one another to be more Christocentric.
The real question here, that Smith never addresses to my knowledge, is how his Christocentrism avoids the problem of “pervasive interpretive pluralism.” Does he wish to say that the church’s unity on the gospel of Christ outweighs its differences on many other subjects? That is a plausible response, but it is essentially the same as my own response in the last section, and it is a plausible response for most any evangelical, even those whom Smith would call Biblicists.
Or does he wish to say that we should not even bother trying to answer the questions on which the church is divided (baptism, church government, etc.), since the focus of our lives in Christ himself rather than any specific matter? Sometimes he hints at a view like this, but I doubt that many Christians would find it plausible.
So my evaluation of Smith’s book can be summarized as follows:
His concept of Biblicism is not an accurate, precise account of deficiencies in the evangelical approach to Scripture.
What he calls “pervasive interpretive pluralism” is a problem for all interpreters of Scripture, but it can be tolerated within the framework of the traditional evangelical doctrine of Scripture.
All interpretation of Scripture ought to be Christocentric. But that does not exclude seeking an understanding of the relation of Christ to the creation and to all aspects of human life. It is good and right to seek understanding of all reality in relation to Christ.
Westminster Theological Journal 59 (1997), 269-318, with replies by David Wells and Richard Muller and a further reply by me. Also published as an Appendix to my Contemporary Worship Music (Phillipsburg: P&R Publishers, 1997). ↑
I have expounded the WCF statement at length in my Doctrine of the Christian Life (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2008), 156-75 and elsewhere. ↑
He says, “an evangelical Catholic, I might add” (xiii). ↑
I am thinking of the traditional Catholic understandings of Matt. 16:18 and 1 Cor. 11:24. ↑
Smith uses solo instead of sola to indicate a corruption of the traditional doctrine of sola Scriptura (p. 200). But as a Latin construction, solo Scriptura is ungrammatical. Further, Smith has already addressed the substantive issues of sola Scriptura in #3. ↑
He also uses a great many illustrations: Bible slogans, bumper stickers, T-shirts, etc., that trivialize what he despises most in evangelicalism (p. 6-12). One gets the impression that his dislike for the evangelical movement has as much to do with aesthetics as theology: he doesn’t like the image of a Jesus bumper sticker on someone’s car. At points I share his aesthetic judgments. But those are a frail basis for establishing, or even verifying, a theological point. And two can play that game. To some Protestants, the statuary in Roman Catholic churches are aesthetically displeasing. ↑
For many other examples, see Vern S. Poythress, Redeeming Science: a God-Centered Approach (Wheaton: Crossway, 2006). Also available at www.frame-poythress.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/08/PoythressVernRedeemingScience.pdf. ↑
This is an important line of discussion. In David Kelsey’s The Uses of Scripture in Recent Theology (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), the author states that in order to understand a theologian’s view of Scripture it is important to examine, not only what the theologian says about Scripture, but also how he uses Scripture to warrant theological judgments. (cf. Wittgenstein: “The meaning is the use.”) Kelsey’s book is a very important study. See also my review of it in my Doctrine of the Word of God (Phillipsburg: P&R, 2010), 466-89. ↑
(2) explains some differences, but not many. (5) and (6), as Smith admits, are somewhat speculative, though there may be some truth in them. It is significant that Scripture itself typically points to deficiencies of readers when questions arise about why someone fails to believe and obey God’s word. See, e.g. Luke 24:25-27, John 5:39-40, Heb. 5:11-14. ↑
Even more shameful is the fact that the church over the years has divided into some 40,000 denominations, in part because of diversity in belief, but for many other reasons as well. ↑
I do not say “the only” cause or “the sufficient” cause, because of course the illumination of the Spirit and the providence of God are also necessary. ↑
I do not say “Biblicist,” but the traditional view has much in common with what Smith calls Biblicist. ↑
See especially his books The Shadow of Christ in the Law of Moses (Brentwood, TN: Wohlgemuth and Hyatt, 1991) and God-centered Biblical Interpretation (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1999). Both are available at www.frame-poythress.org. On p. 109 of the present volume, Smith gives Poythress credit at least for starting with a Christocentric focus. I shall comment later on Smith’s response to the rest of Poythress’s approach. ↑
Disclosure: my alma mater. ↑
For what it’s worth, I think most theological proposals are better in what they affirm than in what they deny. Smith’s proposal is only one of many examples. ↑
They don’t often call these treatments “instructional manuals,” but that sort of language pops up from time to time. An instructional manual is just a systematic way of teaching a body of content. And there is content to be covered on many of these subjects. ↑
Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishers, 1987, 2001. ↑
I suspect that the problem here, as with the bumper stickers I mentioned earlier, is aesthetic. Smith is repulsed by the image of “gathering and arranging pieces” of the word of God. But Smith’s aesthetics is not sufficient to constrain our methods of understanding Scripture. ↑
Volume 1 Issue 2
September 2016 | 119 pages
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“He Descended into Hell”
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Introducing Biblical Hermeneutics: A Comprehensive Framework for Hearing God in Scripture
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Post by Admin on Apr 8, 2024 15:41:11 GMT -5
Conversation with James White
James White
In January 2016, Dr. James R. White taught apologetics at the Charlotte campus of Reformed Theological Seminary, filling in during Dr. James Anderson’s sabbatical. During his visit to campus Dr. White was asked whether Christians and Muslims believe in the same God.
“The question of whether Christians and Muslims believe in the same God has become central in dialogues between the two religions, and the answer is ‘yes and no.’ Let me give both answers.
“Yes: the Quran specifically claims that Muslims worship the God of Abraham. Since we claim to worship the God of Abraham, then from the Muslim perspective, the historical breaking in of a deity that communicated with Abraham – we are talking about the same God. That is their understanding. The Quran specifically says, we make no distinction; we are referring to the same God.
“The problem is that the Quran goes on to describe as unbelief the Christian worship of the triune God. From a biblical perspective, the Trinity is not just an addition to monotheism. It is what defines our monotheism. God has revealed himself: he has broken into human history.
“I always teach that the doctrine of the Trinity is taught in the ‘gutter’ between Malachi and Matthew. What I mean by that is, it is in the incarnation of the Son and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit that we have the full doctrine of the Trinity revealed to us. So the Old Testament become prophetic in pointing toward the deity of Christ (Is 9:6).
“The New Testament then, is not merely the place where the doctrine of the Trinity is argued for. All of its authors are experiential Trinitarians. Consider Peter: he has been on the mount of Transfiguration where he heard the Father speak, he has walked with the Son, and he is indwelt by the Holy Spirit. So the language of the New Testament flows out of the matrix of the experience of God’s triune revelation. The New Testament writers are not saying, ‘we need to prove this new doctrine.’ Rather, ‘this is how God has revealed himself.’ The New Testament did not come up with a new deity; this is how the one God has revealed himself.
“So for the Christian, the ‘No’ part of the answer is: now that this revelation has taken place, if you deny Jesus as the Son of God, if you don’t have the Son, then you don’t have the Father either (I John 2:23). You can’t go back and say that God is basically lying about the revelation he has made of himself.
“So the real question is: Do we worship the same God? Not that we are identifying the same historical deity back in the history of Abraham. In worship, we are talking about truly engaging with God as he has revealed himself. There is no way that any honest Muslim who believes in Tawhid and rejects the doctrine of the Trinity can say, Yes, we are worshiping the same God. Certainly from a Christian perspective that is what we have to say as well.”
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