Ames begins by defining the nature of theology as he did in his Medulla theologica, also published in 1623, in which Ames said so famously, “Theology is the doctrine or teaching of living to God.” In his exhortation, Ames said it was necessary for the University to “call theology away from questions and controversies, obscure, confused, and not very essential, and introduce it to life and practice so that students would begin to think seriously of conscience and its concerns.” No doubt Ames’ definition and populist concern reflects his relationship towards Johannes Maccovius, whom he considered too speculative.

First among Ames’ concerns was to counter what he perceived as a lack of understanding by students of “the proper end of theology.” He discussed this using 1 Timothy 4:16 as his text, which says the minister must be aware of his teaching since it saves himself and his hearers. This meant that students need to know that they were to be devoted to the glory of God and the edification of the church. Contrary to this concern for the proper end of theology were those who entered the ministry for financial gain or just like they would enter a business. God help us from this attitude in ourselves and for us so privileged, in purging this attitude from those we are shepherding towards the ministry as seminary students.  While these were “useless weights to the church,” Ames said “the greater marvel is the grace and providence of God, by which it has come about that up till now the church has lived on, although burdened to an unhappy degree by men of this hireling kind.” Amen! Ames also linked his concern for the proper end of theology with the conscience, saying, “The mirror in which the image of eternal truth is reflected must be pure and clean. As far as possible there ought to be no stains of vice or flaws of selfishness in that heart in which the divine wisdom is to tabernacle.” How important a godly character is to the preparation for the ministry! Cleanse your mind, seminary students, of greed, pride, arrogance, anger, envy, and contentiousness, to name a few areas. I remember those seminary days well.

Ames’ second concern was to impress upon his students the high calling of the ministry: “What can be thought more important or useful than the profession of the ministry? Here one does not treat of lands and estates and similar earthly matters, as in civil law, but of the supremest good and the highest heaven, not of temporal bodily health, as in medicine, but of salvation and eternal life. Not here, as elsewhere, do they enquire into the sentiments, orders, decisions, and rulings of men, but into the eternal wisdom of God and His perfect will.” I don’t know if I’ve ever read it better than this.

Ames’ third concern was to show that the ministry concerned not only doctrine, but method and practice, using the illustration of physicians of old who divided their discipline into these three areas. This was important, because, as Ames said, “Our ministers, however, think themselves to be quite prepared for all the parts of their office if they know only the doctrines—and would they knew them!” It is for this reason that the Scriptures were to be studied for doctrine and for the practice of godliness. What does this mean for us? It means that just because you like to read, just because you like theology, and just because you are able to cite a few passages of Scripture, from Calvin, or from the Confessions to make a point does not mean you are being called into the ministry.

In conclusion, like a good Ramist, Ames ended his exhortation with the use of his word concerning the end of theology, the high calling of the ministry, and the need to study for purposes of doctrine and godliness. Here Ames spoke to his students about “theological exercises,” which were the ways the things they learned were sharpened and put into practice. Ames’ exhortation to his students was that they participated in disputations, that is, formal theological debate. They needed to engage in rehearsing their sermons so that they would benefit their hearers; they need to pray; they needed to engage in holy meditation; and as fellow students, they needed to exhort, admonish, and console each other as brothers in the Lord. May God help us to do so.

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.

In his monumental treatise on Puritan casuistry, De Conscientia (1630), translated and printed in London in 1639 as Conscience with the Power and Cases Thereof, he dealt with a question that perplexes Reformed churches. In our insistence upon singing the Psalms of, one issue we face almost in every Psalm are the imprecations (from the Latin, imprecatio, an invoking of a curse) against our enemies. How do we sing these words when our Lord commanded us, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:44), and the apostle Paul said, “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse” (Rom. 12:14).

Thankfully we can look to our forefathers for guidance.

Quest. 4. How may we sing those Psalms aright, which contain dire imprecations in them?

8. A. 1. We may upon occasion of those imprecations meditate with fear and trembling, on the terrible judgments of God against the sins of impenitent persons.

9. 2. We may thereupon profit in patience and consolation, against the temptations which are wont to [habitually] arise from the prosperity of the wicked, and affliction of the godly.

10. 3. We may also pray to God that he would hasten his revenge (not against our private enemies but) against the wicked and incurable enemies of his Church.

—Conscience with the Power and Cases Thereof, 4.19.8–10. English modernized.