• The Pneumatology of the “Lost” Image in John Owen—Suzanne McDonald
• A Practical Scholasticism? Edward Leigh’s Theological Method—James E. Dolezal
• Samuel Rutherford and Liberty of Conscience—Crawford Gribben
• Marrow Theology and Secession Church History—William VanDoodewaard
• Review of Stephen Hampton, Anti-Arminian: The Anglican Reformed Tradition from Charles II to George I—Kenneth J. Stewart

Tolle Lege.

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.

“Assertion of Liberty of Conscience by the Independents in the Westminster Assembly of Divines, 1644.”

Painted by John Rogers Herbert, RA, ca. 1844.

This may surprise some, but it needs to be said that for the most part Calvin’s theology was not original.  At least, he did not wish to view himself that way.  On some doctrines he did make unique contributions, namely, the Son’s aseity and Christ’s “descent” into Hell. Interestingly, both of these contributions produced a firestorm of debate among his successors in the 16^th and 17^th centuries, particularly at the Westminster Assembly.

The Protestant scholastic, Johannes Maccovius, used more careful scholastic language to speak about the Son as autotheos than Calvin.  Not only, then, did Roman Catholics take serious issue with Calvin on the Son’s aseity, but even Reformed theologians.  Of course, Maccovius preserved Calvin’s teaching, but he used language that would overcome the objections of those who denied Calvin’s position.

The “Calvin versus the Calvinists” debate has received a lot of attention in recent historiography.  Several scholars have recently argued that one of the problems concerning the “Calvin against the Calvinists” thesis was the error of making Calvin the norm for reading the later Reformed tradition.  This methodology had disastrous consequences for the conclusions of scholars like Alan Clifford and R.T. Kendall.

We might even argue that the response to Clifford and Kendall was wrong-headed.  The answer was not to posit a “Calvin for the Calvinists”.  In fact, not even a “Calvin for and against the Calvinists”.  The truth is that scholarship has given Calvin a prominence that almost reduces men like Vermigli to the status of Calvin’s inferior.  That was just not the case.

In connection with this, the Dutch theologian, Gisbertus Voetius, disliked the term “Calvinist”.  He preferred the term “Reformed Catholic.”  The same could be said for William Perkins.  From what I am told, Jonathan Edwards only used the term grudgingly.

An interesting way of rectifying the sorts of problems that I’ve highlighted would be to discuss the issue of how variegated Reformed orthodoxy was in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.  What their differences were remains as important as what their commonalities were.

Besides jettisoning the term “Calvinism”, I believe we should do-away with notion of making the “five points” synonymous with Calvinism or Reformed theology.  As Richard Muller has argued: “How Many Points?”

Related to this, many think one can only be a Calvinist if they hold to the “five points of Calvinism”.  However, Reformed theology was more complex than the “five points” suggest.  As several scholars have noted, the Hypothetical Universalists – e.g. the brilliant, John Preston – represented a trajectory within Reformed orthodoxy.  The real question about the atonement has to do with its nature.  As you know, the Arminians ended up changing the nature of the atonement so that it was consistent with their views of its extent.  Substitution was jettisoned in favor of versions of the Grotian theory (or versions of what we call the governmental theory).

Today we simply make it a question of “limited atonement” versus “unlimited atonement”.  This is a stupid (and annoying) way of formulating the debate.  First, what was the precise nature of the atonement? How does the atonement relate to God’s decree or the pactum salutis.  What about the inseparable relation of the Spirit to the death of Christ?

Finally, as an example of theological development and terminological change, we might look at the doctrine of regeneration.  Calvin had a broader understanding of the term than later Reformed theologians.  The narrowing of the term took place in reaction to the claims of Arminius and his followers; hence, we see in the Canons of Dordt a particular emphasis on the “one-time” monergistic work of the Spirit in order to combat the Arminians who were happy with much of Calvin’s language, but not happy with the irresistibility of the Spirit which had been a hallmark of Reformed orthodoxy.

Calvin certainly understood the idea to signify more than an aspect of the ordo salutis.  For him, it incorporated many aspects of the whole Christian life (Institutes, III.3.9).  Hodge remarked that “Calvin gives the term its widest scope” (Systematic Theology, 3.3).  That is not to say, of course, that Calvin denies the doctrine as it has been typically understood, that is, as an instantaneous “bringing to life from the dead”.  For example, Calvin writes:  “[The Spirit] regenerates us and makes us to be new creatures” (Institutes, II.2.27).  But he was not content with such a narrow view of the doctrine.  Regeneration is akin to sanctification insofar as “it is a renewal of the divine image in us” (Ibid, III.17.5).  Importantly, though he understands regeneration to encompass sanctification, “God only regenerates the elect with incorruptible seed forever” (Ibid, II.13.2).

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

The narrowing of the term was a result of the theological controversies that led up to the Synod of Dordt in the early seventeenth century.  The Arminians used Reformed language in describing their views, but they denied explicitly the irresistibility of the Spirit’s work; rather, it was “a gentle advising”.  They were happy with Calvin’s language regarding regeneration as it pertained to the Christian life, but they were not happy with the Reformed view of “irresistibility”.

Maccovius was responsible for restricting the term regeneration, which had hitherto been more elastic in meaning, in order to uphold a monergistic view of the Spirit’s working (see Kuyper, The Work of the Holy Spirit, 293).  From this point on, the Reformed doctrine of regeneration was, in a sense, distinguished from sanctification while at the same time it was understood that one necessarily led to the other.