For Goodwin, the title of ‘the Word’ (ho logos) is not a reference to Christ being the thought or counsel of the Father’s mind since this ‘inclines too much unto the Notion of Plato, and other Heathen Philosophers’ (Of the Knowledge, 60). Goodwin is not unaware that the logos title had been used before John’s time by various Greek philosophers. However, in Goodwin’s mind, John refers to Christ as ‘the Word’ (logos) not because of Greek influences but because of the evidence in the Old Testament itself.

As a result, both Philo and Plato, by using the terminology of ‘ho logos’, are guilty of stealing ‘their knowledge from the Jews, and vend[ing] it as their own’ (Ibid, 62). Goodwin shows that the title, ‘the Word’, was used by the Jews, as a reference to the Messiah, in the Aramaic Targums, what Goodwin called the ‘Caldee Paraphrasts’ (Ibid). So, for example, Goodwin quotes the Isaiah Targum (Isa. 45:17) which makes several references to the divine Word (Memra). Hence, ‘Israel is saved by the Memra of the LORD with an everlasting salvation’. The KJV, based on the Masoretic Text (MT) in the OT, reads: ‘But Israel shall be saved in the LORD with an everlasting salvation’ (Isa. 45:17). Moreover, the MT text of Hosea 1:7 (… and will save them by the LORD their God …) is transliterated by the Aramaic Targum as ‘I will redeem them by the Word of the Lord their God.’

Referring to Christ as ‘the Word’, then, is Christologically loaded in terms of his divinity because of how the Aramaic Targums make use of the title, ‘the Word’ (Owen, 21:354). Not only, then, does the immediate context of John 1 show that Christ is the divine Word who existed in eternity, but the very fact that John calls Christ ‘the Word’ is evidence in itself for the deity of Christ because of how the Jews would have understood such terminology.

In the first place, I am not comfortable with how some use the terms “law” and “gospel”.  Some admit that they use these terms not in their precise biblical sense, but rather as “systematic” categories.  A few may even be so bold to agree that the Torah contains both “law” and “gospel”.  To insist that the “gospel” equals “done” and the “law” equals “do” invites confusion for any serious student of the Bible.  This antithesis causes a host of problems when read back into Scripture, particularly since Paul has a version of law-gospel that bears little resemblance to the  “Lutheran” antithesis.

The Reformed have historically taught that the gospel both promises and commands.  To say that all imperatives are strictly law reflects an Antinomian position, at least historically.  Samuel Rutherford’s work, “Spirituall Antichrist”, highlights the various tendencies among Antinomian writers of the seventeenth century.  One way to explain what’s at stake in this debate would be to evaluate the contention that the gospel persuades rather than commands.  Rutherford was adamant that the gospel persuades and commands.  Consider the following:

“The Gospel (according to Robert Towne) perswades rather then commands.  But say we, it both commands, (as the Law doth) and with a more strong obligation of the constraining love of Christ…so here be no differences at all” (Spirituall Antichrist, II.122).

Elsewhere Rutherford argues that the law and the gospel require the same obedience (Pt. II.7).  Indeed, “positively”, they are not contrary to one another.  “Perfect obedience, which the Law requireth, and imperfect obedience which the Gospel accepteth are but graduall differences” (II.8).  Moreover, “the Gospel abateth nothing of the height of perfection, in commanding what ever the law commandeth in the same perfection….In acceptation of grace, the Gospel accepteth lesse than the law, but commandeth no lesse” (Pt. II.8).  Incidentally, Rutherford, like Turretin, affirms that good works are necessary for salvation.

Of course, Rutherford was aware of a common cry of the Antinomians, a cry that one often hears today:

(Antinomian): “Yee confound Law and Gospel, and runne on that common error, that the Gospel is conditionall …”

Answer: “It is a new heresie of Antinomians to deny a conditionall Gospel….2. Remission is but one of the promised mercies of the Gospel” (II.63).

I should note that Rutherford was not extreme in his day and William Perkins (see his commentary on Galatians) and John Owen (see Works, III.604-10) echoed similar sentiments.  It is one thing to find authors that speak about distinguishing between law and gospel, but it is quite another thing to understand how these concepts function within their system of thought.

Now, one has to applaud the intentions of the Lutherans and those who agree with how they commonly distinguish between law and gospel.  We should always be zealous to protect justification by faith alone.  My contentions have not so much to do with how this concept relates to justification, but what we mean by the terms “law” and “gospel”.  Sure, the law drives the unconverted to find salvation in Christ, but what about those who are in Christ?

Paul sometimes speaks negatively of the Torah; he shows its impotence apart from the Spirit to give the life it promises.  Some versions of the law-gospel antithesis seem make a mess of Paul’s own antitheses.  For example, in Romans 7 the law is placed on the “Spirit” (not the “flesh”) side of the Spirit-flesh antithesis.  Sin leads to condemnation because the law exposes us as sinners.  But in chapter 8 the law becomes a liberating, not condemning, power because of the Spirit.  So, when we come to Romans 8:13 do we call it “law” or “gospel”.  I think the answer is obvious.  But, I’m not so sure some of my Reformed brothers would come to the same conclusion as I would!

I would also note that Paul often does not place “law” on the expected side of the antithesis (1 Cor. 7:19).  The law in the New Covenant becomes a quickening power that, by the Spirit, sets us free from sin and death (Rom. 8:1-4).

Rutherford realized, as did his contemporaries, that command and promise are sometimes inextricably intertwined with one another (see again Rom. 8:13; life is promised to those who mortify the sinful nature by the Spirit).  But, whatever the case, the promises, as well as the commands, fall under the rubric of Paul’s “gospel”.

All of this is to suggest that I do not view the biblical gospel as synonymous with justification.  It certainly includes justification, but it is not limited to justification.  Christ died for my sins (1 Cor. 15:3), which includes not only its illegal character (Rom. 1-3), but also its enslaving power (Rom. 6).

Thus, I would say that the gospel includes not only what Christ has done for us, but also what Christ does in us, namely, by forming us into the image of God (Rom. 8:29).  This seems to be a central concern of Paul’s throughout his letters.  Thankfully, the gospel includes God’s work in me (Eph. 2:10; Phil. 2:12-13).

The antithesis between law and gospel is not an end in itself.  This antithesis entered because of sin.  But, as Richard Gaffin has noted,

“The gospel is to the end of removing an absolute law-gospel antithesis in the life of the believer.  How so? Briefly, apart from the gospel and outside of Christ the law is my enemy and condemns me.  Why? Because God is my enemy and condemns me.  But with the gospel and in Christ, united to him by faith, the law is no longer my enemy but my friend.  Why? Because now God is no longer my enemy but my friend, and the law, his will, the law in its moral core, as reflective of his character and of concerns eternally inherent in his own person and so of what pleases him, is now my friendly guide for life in fellowship with God” (By Faith, Not by Sight, 103).

I think Ursinus, in his commentary on the Heidelberg Catechism (p. 105), illustrates just how problematic certain versions of the law-gospel antithesis can be when he considers whether a commandment belongs to the gospel.  He writes:

“Objection. There is no precept, or commandment belonging to the gospel, but to the law. The preaching of repentance is a precept. Therefore the preaching of repentance does not belong to the gospel, but to the law.

Answer. We deny the major, if it is taken generally; for this precept is peculiar to the gospel, which commands us to believe, to embrace the benefits of Christ, and to commence new obedience, or that righteousness which the law requires. If it be objected that the law also commands us to believe in God, we reply that it does this only in general, by requiring us to give credit to all the divine promises, precepts and denunciations, and that with a threatening of punishment, unless we do it. But the gospel commands us expressly and particularly to embrace, by faith, the promise of grace; and also exhorts us by the Holy Spirit, and by the Word, to walk worthy of our heavenly calling. This however it does only in general, not specifying any duty in particular, saying thou shalt do this, or that, but it leaves this to the law; as, on the contrary, it does not say in general, believe all the promises of God, leaving this to the law; but it says in particular, Believe this promise; fly to Christ, and thy sins shall be forgiven thee.”

Some time ago I spoke with a Seminarian who had a rather wooden view of the “law-gospel” antithesis and asked him what he thought about the Sermon on the Mount.  It appeared, to use a phrase from T. David Gordon, “that he was entirely flummoxed by it”; indeed, “I would like to think that he was, at some level, aware of his incapacity to make any sense of it.”  This student used the law-gospel antithesis as a pedagogical tool that he brought to every text; but, when he came to Rom. 8:13 he wasn’t quite sure how to divide the text up given his hermeneutical assumptions.

I understand that many have been zealous to protect the graciousness of God’s saving purposes towards his people, but I am not entirely convinced that narrowing the meaning of “gospel” will prove helpful in the long run.  Many good men in our tradition make this clear; and I’d like to think – in fact, I’m sure this is the case – that this is because God’s Word makes this clear.

Besides that which I’ve mentioned above, let me emphasize the importance of maintaining the indicative-imperative structure of theology, which we see clearly delineated in Scripture (Ex. 20; Rom. 1ff.; Eph. 1-6; 1 Peter 1ff.).  But this structure falls within the context of “gospel” preaching.  To preach the gospel is to preach of Christ’s death and resurrection as the basis/ground for both our justification and our Spirit-wrought obedience.  Some might admit that they distinguish between the broader and narrower uses of the term, but, as I said above, this can be very confusing, and the emphasis among some today seems to be on the “narrow” understanding of the terms, which happens to be the less biblical way of looking at the law and the gospel (terms that in the NT are generally used to speak of redemptive-historical contrasts).

The final word from William Perkins:

“The Gospel, as it teacheth what is to be done, so it hath also the efficacy of the Holy Ghost adjoined to it, by whom being regenerated we have strength both to believe the Gospel and to perform those things which it commandeth” (Art of Prophesying VII, [Abingdon, 1970], 341-342).

1. I remember Richard Muller’s expression on his face when I mentioned blogging … that’s not actually a reason, but, I’ll never forget the expression.

2. Besides Muller, Trueman’s latest piece at the Ref. 21 site has confirmed a number of thoughts I’ve been having for some time. You really should read his latest article. I did notice that he doesn’t seem to be blogging anymore!

3. All of the fuss over Frame’s review over Horton’s book, “Christless Christianity”, drove me nuts.

4. Blogging is a huge temptation for lazy/careless scholarship. I’ve posted some things in the past that I regret.  And, as a Pastor, I have enough trouble keeping my mouth in check, never mind my “pen”.

As far as this blog goes, I hope to share information from time to time that may be particularly helpful.  Nonetheless, my academic obligations will prevent me from saying anything of substance, which is probably a (very) good thing.

Thanks, Richard; thanks, Carl; thanks, Hunter Powell (who, of the three, might read this!)  And thanks to thomasgoodwin.wordpress.com for all the friends and acquaintances I made over its two years of existence. I think I made more friends than enemies, but one never knows!

MJ

Goodwin and Owen both wrote works on justification (and on the Holy Spirit).  There are, of course, similarities, but there are also differences.  Goodwin had a special concern with assurance and his work is more pastoral than Owen’s.  Owen’s work is technically superb, but I would rate Goodwin’s work above Owen’s on account of better pastoral emphases.

In his work on justification, Goodwin had a burden to maintain the graciousness of the covenant of grace. Chief among his concerns was that graces and grace had been confused, not only by the Arminians, Socinians, and Catholics, but by some of his own (Calvinistic) brethren who were heavily emphasizing the conditional character of the covenant of grace. For example, Goodwin writes:

“When Paul disputes, as we do against the papists, that no man is justified by works; what! doth he mean external works only? No; but he excludes from our justification our whole righteousness, both root and branch, the inward as the root, and the outward as the branches, because under works of the law is comprehended a complete conformity to the law, and to what the law requires, and so he means hereby inward as well as outward holiness …. And thus when the law forbids any evil work, it forbids original sin as well as actual, for the law binds the whole man” (8:292).

Richard Sibbes, who was a significant influence on Goodwin, was careful to sharply distinguish between justification and sanctification. Indeed, confusing justification with either sanctification or regeneration was tantamount to deserting the faith.

“But some others there are amongst us, that regard not Christ and his satisfaction alone, but join faith and works together in justification; they will have other priests, and other intercessors than Christ. Alas! beloved, how are these men fallen from Christ to another gospel, as if Christ were not an all-sufficient Saviour, and able to deliver to the uttermost! What is the gospel but salvation and redemption by Christ alone?” (Works, 1:388)

Ussher makes a similar point when he speaks of sola fide: [justification is] not considered as a virtue inherent in us, working by love; but only as an instrument or hand of the soul stretched forth to lay hold on the Lord our righteousness” (Ussher, 193).

These sentiments are, of course, standard Westminster orthodoxy where justifying faith is “not because of those other graces which doth always accompany it, or of good works that are the fruits of it, nor as if the grace of faith, or any act thereof, were imputed to him for his justification; but only as it is an instrument by which he receiveth and applieth Christ and his righteousness” (WLC, 73).

For Goodwin, then, the unconditional nature of the covenant of grace is essential to the doctrine of justification and assurance. Goodwin concludes: “He [who comes to faith] cannot rest on promises conditional, for he sees no qualifications of faith or any grace in himself” (8:245). Goodwin is so concerned to not make faith a work, as the Arminians do, that he is far more comfortable speaking of the covenant of grace as unconditional.

This comes out in Goodwin’s doctrine of assurance that Mike Horton has written on.  Goodwin came to the opinion that the subjective element (internal graces) were becoming unhelpful to his people and so, in trying to evade an overly-subjective view of assurance, he looked to the unconditional nature of the covenant of grace while, at the same time, holding to a “sealing-of-the-Spirit” view where believers, some time later in their lives, receive full assurance of their faith through the Spirit’s work.  This may raise some eyebrows, but what Goodwin was trying to do was emphasize the unilateral, unconditional aspect of the covenant of grace. Horton doesn’t think Goodwin succeeded – nor do I – but it’s an interesting point of historical reference nevertheless.

Amandus Polanus’ (1561-1610) work called The Substance of Christian Religion is a practical body of divinity.  Regarding the term “regeneration” Polanus writes the following:

“Regeneration is a benefit of God, by which our corrupted nature is renewed to the image of God by the Holy Spirit …. That same is also called sanctification and the gift of grace. Also of schoolmen it is called infused grace … Regeneration is either begun or perfected” (103).

As I alluded to above, Calvin certainly understood regeneration to signify more than an aspect of the ordo salutis.  For him, it incorporated many aspects of the whole Christian life (Institutes, III.iii.9).  Hodge remarked that “Calvin gives the term its widest scope” (Systematic Theology, 3.3).  Calvin affirms that the Spirit makes alive what was once dead: “[The Spirit] regenerates us and makes us to be new creatures” (Institutes, II.ii.27).  But he was not content with such a narrow view of the doctrine.  Before Polanus, Calvin argues that regeneration is akin to sanctification insofar as “it is a renewal of the divine image in us” (III.xvii.5).

There is also a good deal of evidence that the early English Puritans had a very elastic view of regeneration.  Perkins, for example, understood John 3:5 to incorporate sanctification (Foundation of Christian Religion, 278).

Maccovius spends a good deal of time on regeneration in his work on theological and philosophical distinctions and rules.  He does not abandon Calvin’s use of the term, but he makes finer distinctions relative to the Remonstrant and counter-Remonstrant debates.  For example, Maccovius writes:

Regeneratio aliter se habet ratione primi moment, aliter ratione progressus (In respect of its first moment regeneration comes about in another way than in respect of its progression).  Ratione primi moment homo se habet mere passive, ratione progressus cooperatur cum Deo (Regarding the first moment of regeneration man is purely passive; regarding its progression man cooperates with God).

Elsewhere he argues:

Regenerationis gradus dantur in hac vita, non tatntum in se, verum etiam in subjectis (In this life regeneration is by degrees: these degrees do not only concern regeneration by itself but also the subjects).  Magis regignitur unus quam alter, hinc magis adulti quam infantes (Some people are more regenerate than others; hence older prople are more regenerated than the young ones).

Notice, then, that Maccovius uses, like Calvin and Polanus, the term “regeneration” to include what we now call sanctification.  Incidentally, Maccovius viewed Paul as “regenerate” in Romans 7.  Indeed, he had to since the turning point for Arminius, I believe, was when he began his lectures in Romans 7 and decided that Romans 7 described Paul in his unconverted state.  Many think Arminius went wrong at Romans 9 – he did, of course – but his problem started earlier!

* On Maccovius’ distinctiones see “Scholastic Discourse” (Instituut voor Reformatieonderzoek), pp. 239ff.

Francis Roberts wrote the longest work on covenant theology in the seventeenth century and his thoughts on grace in the covenant of works are interesting.  He argues that God’s entering into the covenant of works with Adam was an “act of divine grace and favour, not of debt” (God’s Covenants, 23).

God could have dealt only in terms of “command”, requiring duty from Adam without a reward.  However, because he condescended to Adam and entered into a covenant with him, it was “meer grace” (Ibid).  Roberts insists that Adam could not merit any reward.  In fact, even if Adam had rendered perfect obedience he would still have “been an unprofitable servant, having done nothing but what was duty” (Ibid).  On account of Creation, Adam owed God obedience.  On account of God instituting a covenant at creation, Adam had to be “double dutiful” (Ibid).  In fact, Roberts suggests that if God’s dealings with Adam in the covenant of works was an “Act of Divine Grace”, then God’s covenant of grace was an act of “superabounding and transcendent grace” (Ibid).

What is interesting is that Thomas Goodwin takes a rather different approach than Roberts, which is yet more evidence of the diversity among theologians in the Reformed tradition.  Sure, the covenant of works became firmly entrenched in our confessional tradition, but the details of the covenant of works have never been fully agreed upon.

Goodwin calls the estate into which man was born the estate of pure nature by “creation law”.  He recognizes that “our divines” rightly call it the Foedus Naturae, the Covenant of Nature (Goodwin also uses the term “covenant of works”).  This covenant is “founded upon an equitable intercourse set up between God the Creator, and his intelligent unfallen creatures, by virtue of the Law.”  We, as creatures, are therefore bound to deal with God according to that bond and obligation which is a result of the imago Dei.

Interestingly, Goodwin prefers, instead of “the covenant of works/nature”, the term “The Creation Law, Jus Creationis“.  In other words, “of what was equitable between God, considered merely as Creator, on one part; and his intelligent Creatures that were endued with understanding and will, on the other, simply considered as such creatures.”  This “law” between the Creator and creatures “lay in an equitable transaction between God and them, a congruity, dueness, meetness, on either part.”

Since God is Creator it became him to do for his creatures what was worthy of the Creator-creature relationship.  He was under no obligation to exceed what his position required as a Creator.  He gave all that was due for his creatures to attain their end of happiness because, as Creator, “his will regulated itself by what was meet for their (the creatures) Natures, as such, to receive from him, and for him as a Creator to give.”

During the pre-Fall administration, God bestowed “such faculties and powers, as the creature itself could any way judge requisite to his performing the work of a creature of an intelligent Nature.”   Specifically, then, when God created Adam and Eve, it became him to endow them with his own image of holiness “whereby they might be able to know, to love, and to enjoy a Communion with him … as their chiefest good.” Moreover, on God’s part, as a Creator, he was bound to continue his favor and goodness to Adam and Eve if they would remain in their estate of holiness.

Hence, the promise, “if you do these things, you will live”, was their life on account of “creation dues” and “an equity by creation law”. (All quotes from “Of the Creatures, and their Condition”, Works, 1691-1704, vol. II:20-21.)

Goodwin continues by asserting that though God bound himself to certain “dues” to his creatures, by virtue of his being, he was not obliged to preserve his creature in their state of innocence.  Importantly, Goodwin argues that we must not lay upon God any blame for the Fall (James 1:13-14). God stands free; it is “not upon prerogative, but Equity, that he is a Debtor unto Man.”  God was at perfect liberty to give or not to give what he had not compacted for.

Of course, Goodwin argued in this same work that Adam’s reward could not have been heavenly life; only Christ could merit such blessings.

Finally, regarding grace in the covenant of works, Thomas Boston says that “it was certainly an act of grace, favour, and admirable condescension in God, to enter into a covenant, and such a covenant, with his own creature.” For Boston, man was still bound to obey, perfectly, before the covenant “in virtue of his natural dependence on God.” Man could not have “required eternal life as a reward of his work” before the covenant. The entering into the covenant was itself an act of grace.  However, once the covenant had been instituted, man “may crave the reward on the ground of the covenant.” (T. Boston, The Complete Works of the Late  Rev. Thomas Boston, 12 Vols. (1853; repr., Wheaton, IL: Richard Owen Roberts, Publishers, 1980), VIII:18-19).

The Scot, Hugh Binning, describes grace in the covenant of works in the following way:

there were some outbreakings of the glorious grace and free condescendency of God; for it was no less free grace and undeserved favour to promise life to his obedience, than now to promise life to our faith. So that if the Lord had continued that covenant with us, we ought to have called it grace, and would have been saved by grace as well as now (Common Principles of Christian Relg., lec. 6).

There are, of course, a number of issues that need to be discussed in relation to what has been said.  There are important reasons, both theological and exegetical, why the majority of Reformed theologians have spoken of grace in the covenant of works; and, as you well know, there are reasons why a small minority (very, very small) have resisted the language of grace in the Adamic administration.

So, you see, there are some real points of disagreement on this issue, and I haven’t even touched on Adam’s reward, which was either continued life in Eden or the reward of heaven.  Important Christological issues are connected with this issue!

Notice the similarities. First, from “Of Christ the Mediator”:

Now the next thing to be considered is, how this motion takes with Christ’s heart, which his Father makes, and what he says to it, how he answers it again, and how willingly. And this is as necessary as the former; for besides that it could not be forced on him; for, John v. 26, ‘the Father hath given him to have life in himself, and so to have power over his life.’ John X. 18, ‘I have power over my life, and none can take it from me.’ Besides that, if it came not of him freely, it had not been satisfactory; for satisfactio est redditio voluntaria, it must be a voluntary payment; and as our disobedience was free, so must his satisfaction be. Though he had at last yielded, yet if he sticks at it we are undone, if he makes but an objection. And is it not infinite love he should not, being he was the party to undergo so much debasement?

How did the eldest son’s stomach rise, when but the fat calf was killed for the prodigal? But the eldest, only begotten Son of God, must sacrifice himself for enemies (not the sacrificing of worlds would serve, whereof he could have created enough), and yet not a thought did arise contrary to the Father’s will. So his own words, in answer to the former call of his Father, do shew, ‘Lo, I have come to do thy will, O God,’ Heb. x.7. The Psalmist, from whence the words are borrowed, hath it, ‘I delight to do thy will,’ Ps. xl. 8. ‘Lo, I come’ (says Christ); I am as ready, as forward, O God, as thou to have me; not willing only, but glad; I delight to do thy will. As the sun rejoiceth to run his race, so the Sun of righteousness to run his, for he was ‘anointed with the oil of gladness above his fellows,’ Ps. xlv. 7. He was as glad to do this work as ever he was to eat his meat: John iv. 34, ‘Jesus saith unto them, My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work.’ ‘With desire’ (saith he) ‘have I desired it’: Luke xxii. 15, ‘And he said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer.’ He longed as much, and was as much pained, as ever woman with child longed to be delivered, till this work was accomplished. Luke xii. 50, ‘But I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished.’ Christ the Mediator, Works, 5:24

Alright then, now notice that Goodwin uses essentially the same wording in his sermon upon Heb. X, 4-7 called “The One Sacrifice.” I would also like to point out that the similarities are even more obvious in the 1691-1704 edition of Goodwin’s Works because the Nichols editors were rather free in their editing. Hence, there are a few differences in these comparisons that are not in the original edition.

Now then, the second thing remains, how the motion takes with Christ, which his Father makes to him, which was as necessary as the former. For besides that, it could not have been forced on him; for John v. 26, the Father hath given him life in himself, and so to have power over his life: John x.18, ‘I have power over my life, and none can take it from me.’ I say besides, that if it come not off freely, it had not been satisfactory; satisfactio est redditio voluntaria. Our disobedience was free, so must his satisfaction be, ‘ a free will offering of himself.’ God stands more upon the will than the deed; as a kindness is spoked in the doing if it be unwillingly done, so would his satisfaction be. This therefore is another difficulty, and but that his Father struck in so, likely to have been greater than the former. Though he had at last yielded. yet if he sticks as it we are undone; if he makes but one objection, we perish. And is it not infinite love that he should not, being the party to undergo such debasement?

How did the eldest son’s stomach rise when but the fatted calf was killed for the prodigal? But he, the eldest, only begotten Son, must sacrifice himself (worlds would not serve, whereof he could have created enough) for enemies. but not a thought arose contrary to his Father’s will. So his own words in the text shew, ‘Lo, I have come to do thy will, O God,’ The Psalm, from whence the words are borrowed, Ps. xl. 8., hath it, ‘I delight to do thy will. As the sun rejoiceth to run his race, so the Sun of righteousness to run his, for he was ‘anointed with the oil of gladness above his fellows,’ Ps. xlv. 7. As glad as ever he was to eat his meat: John iv. 34, ‘With desire have I desired it,’ yea, and longed as much pain as ever woman with child longed to be delivered, Luke xii. 50. Sermon on Heb. X.4-7, Works, 5:497.

There are a number of small differences and omissions/additions. But, generally, the wording is the same, the Latin phrase is the same, and the proof-texts are the same. I wonder how common it was for writers to simply copy from other places in their writings? By the way, in the original Works (1691-1704), Goodwin does not cite his own work.

William Ames (1576-1633), professor of theology at Franeker in the Netherlands, was one of the most influential theologians in the early seventeenth century. He was educated at Christ College, Cambridge under the great Puritan, William Perkins (1558-1602). His learnedness earned him the title “the learned Dr. Ames.” John Eusden, in the introduction to Ames’ Marrow of Theology, comments that “No previous thinker in the Calvinist-Puritan tradition analyzed the covenant of grace with an acuteness comparable to that of the Franeker professor” (p. 52).  I might dispute that, but the comment is not far off.

In The Marrow of Theology Ames treats the subject of the covenant using a method that Owen would later adopt. Ames speaks of a covenant of works in this manner: “In this covenant the moral deeds of the intelligent creature lead either to happiness as a reward or to unhappiness as a punishment. The latter is deserved, the former not” (p. 111). He spends far more time, however, on an exposition of the covenant of grace which ended up being his most significant contribution to the development of covenant theology.

That the covenant of grace is one and the same from the beginning (Genesis 3:15) is a basic presupposition that guides Ames’ thinking. He notes, however, that the application and administration has differed in each particular administration. There is a progression from the imperfect to the perfect, which means, for him, that the “manner of administration of the covenant is twofold: One points to the Christ who will appear (imperfect) and the other to the Christ who has appeared (perfect)” (p. 202). In the history of salvation, he divides up the covenant of grace into periods from Adam to Abraham, Abraham to Moses, and Moses to Christ.

These divisions, identical to Owen’s in Theologoumena, represent a biblico-theological approach to the unfolding nature of God’s redemptive purposes. But, even in this approach Ames is concerned to speak about Christian doctrines, common to systematic theology, like election, justification, sanctification and glorification. In each redemptive period there are, however, different applications of the aforementioned doctrines.

In the period from Adam to Abraham, Ames notes the following doctrines in relation to the covenant of grace:

“From Adam to Abraham it should be noted, first, that redemption by Christ and the application of Christ was promised in general. It was to be carried out by the seed of the woman in order to banish the works of the devil, or sin and death. Gen 3.15; Rom. 16:20 …

Second, calling was evident in the distinction between the seed of the woman and the seed of the devil, and between the sons of God and the sons of men, Gen. 6:2.

Third, the way of justification was set forth by expiatory sacrifices offered and accepted for sins.

Fourth, adoption was indicated both by the title of sons, common to all the faithful at that time, and by the translation of Enoch into the heavenly inheritance.

Fifth, sanctification was expressly taught by the prophets and foreshadowed by typical oblations and rites of sacrifice, Jude 14; Rom. 12:1.

Sixth, glorification was publicly sealed by the example of Enoch and the saving of Noah and his family from the flood. 1 Peter 3:20, 21” (p. 203).

We can only fully appreciate the nuances of Ames’ approach to the covenant when we compare the period from Adam to Abraham with the period from Moses to Christ. For example, Ames speaks of doctrines like justification and sanctification, but with a different application of each doctrine because of history of revelation had progressed further.

“From the time of Moses to Christ, these same things were further adumbrated by extraordinary and ordinary means.Redemption and its application were extraordinary. They were signified, first, in the deliverance from Egypt through the ministry of Moses, who was a type of Christ, Matt. 2:15, and by the entrance into the land of Canaan through the ministry of Joshua, another type of Christ. Second, in the brass serpent, by looking at which men who were about to die were restored to health, John 3:14; 12:32. …. (p. 204).

In the ordinary sense Christ and redemption were foreshadowed by the high priest, the altars, and sacrifices for sins.

Justification was shown in many sacrifices and ablutions and in the sacrament of the Passover.

Adoption was shown in the dedication of the firstborn to God.

Sanctification was set forth in all the offerings and gifts as well as in the observances which had anything to do with cleanliness.

Glorification was shown in the inheritance of the promised land and the communion which they had with God in the holy of holies” (p. 205).

Ames next speaks of the administration of the covenant from the coming of Christ to the end of the world. Christ’s coming ushered in a new administration that would continue until the end of the world, hence the New Testament (pp. 205-6). The New Testament differs from the former administration in quality and quantity. For example, its difference in quality is in clarity and freedom.

“Clarity occurs, first in the more distinct expression than heretofore of the doctrine of grace and salvation through Christ and through faith in him (together with other kindred points of the doctrine). Second, it is expressed not in types and shadows, but in a most manifest fashion (p. 206).

Freedom comes, first, in doing away with government by law, or the intermixture of the covenant of works, which held the ancient people in a certain bondage. The spirit of adoption, though never wholly denied to believers, is also most properly said to be communicated under the New Testament, in which the perfect state for believers most clearly shines forth …. Second, the yoke of ceremonial law is taken away in that it was a mortgage bond held against sinners, forbade the use of some things in the nature indifferent, commanded many burdensome observances of other things of the same nature, and veiled the truth itself with many carnal ceremonies” (p. 206).

Ames further elaborates the difference between the Old and New Testaments by speaking of how the new differs from the former intensively and extensively (207). It differs intensively in terms of the application of the Spirit; the new administration produces a more spiritual life (2 Corinthians 3:18). The administration differs extensively insofar as the Gentiles are now heirs of the promises that were once confined to Israel.