Thursday, August 13, 2015

Calvin as Theologian Rather than Theoretic: A Response to Naydich

While Calvin was somewhat less severe a theologian
than his reputation suggests, we at Groupthink regret
that he is still not quite as huggable as this Calvin.
Calvin is  one of the greatest Christian teachers thinkers of all times, whether you agree with his teachings or not.I want to thank Naydich for having written a piece that, in "relevant" language, reclaims one of the most influential figures of Christian history; Calvin has too long been demonized by folks in the modern church on the basis of a straw man oversimplification of a small percentage of Calvin's corpus.

I suspect Calvin might even be alright with you telling him that you don't agree with his claims about theology and the Christian life, as long as you were prepared to show him from Scripture where you think he is incorrect. Of course, of his odd bits of writing that seem chauvinistic or anti-Semitic. This, oddly enough, brings me to my first point about what we ought to understand about Calvin and his theology en toto: If "postmodern" thought has taught us anything, it has surely taught us that every text, in fact everything, has a context.


If we were to construct a Hegelian synthesis, Calvin's context forms the thesis and Calvin's work itself, the antithesis. Then, we could find the enduring value of his work in a synthesis taking account of both. Calvin, although his teachings can right be called "timeless" because of this enduring value, was not writing the Institutes for twenty-first century American readers. Calvin did, however, know that the church as it stood in his time in continental Europe was a corrupt and oppressive institution, both ideologically and economically, and that is the context of much of his writing.

Calvin argued that the church of his time was not yet holy because laity was taught to believe that those "in charge" of the church were holy. He spoke of the believer's utter dependence on God in part because people were taught to believe they could depend on divine forgiveness and help mediated through their financial contributions to the church.

Naydich states that "Calvin has his eyes constantly set upon God, the ultimate creator of the universe, and Calvin implicitly compares everything to the standard of God." I would add to this that Calvin has an eye constantly set upon God because he insists on seeing God past the standard of the church authorities of sixteenth century France. 

The reason that Calvin is so adamant about one's personal study of the Scripture is that he knows that in his era that was one of the most freeing acts a person could partake in. True freedom for the captives was available. 


This is my second main point, one to which Naydich rightly alludes: Calvin is one of the archetects of modern "devotional" practice. His Institutes should not be thought of in the same breathe as a sweeping philosophical reflection like Kierkegaard's Works of Love, even if both have the same potential to change a believer's life. The Institutes is meant to be an accessible guide to living a life of devotion to God, more accessible at least than a life of monasticism, which was very much emphasized as a superior mode of holiness in Calvin's day. The only way he saw to teach all Christians to live a holy life was to compose a work of practical theology for all literate people, lay or ordained. 

That legacy of practical theology for all people is one I'm happy to continue by blogging for Groupthink with other members of the Christian family, and I look forward to reading further responses on this topic.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

John Calvin: Predestined to be Misunderstood

Calvin. The name alone can draw a powerful emotional response from today's Christians. The Young Reformed movement often found on university campuses ensures that many people know about John Calvin and his classic conflict with James Arminius. Tomes of blog posts have probably been written on the Calvinism vs. Arminianism debate, or the question of our “election.” I dare say I may be one of the few contemporary Christians who does not care about this debate at all! What is frustrating is how much it misses the point of what Calvin was trying to accomplish with his famous Institutes

The title page of the 1559 edition of the Institutes.
Calvin's classic work began as a slim, practical volume,
but he added to its content as his career continued. 

Calvin had more important things to say than whether or not we are predestined, or whether or not we have free will. He was above all a practical theologian. He was concerned with living a Christian life. If a theological point could not be used practically, he had no use for it. We often lose that when discussing this great thinker. What I want to do right now is bring up some less known aspects of Calvin’s thought expressed in The Institutes of Christian Religion. Hopefully, that will allow us to not throw the baby out with the baptismal font when we engage with today's “Calvinists.”

Man’s Dependence on God

Arguably, most of Calvin’s theology is dependent on humanity's state of utter dependence. His first writings in the Institutes all disparage the human being’s ability to measure up to God. For instance, Calvin writes: 
“[A]s soon as we lift up our thoughts to God and reflect on his nature and how absolutely perfect he is in wisdom righteousness and virtue, we realize that this is the standard to which we must conform.”
Calvin does not, as is often misconstrued, have a negative view of man, but view's man negatively only in comparison with God's absolute goodness. Abstract theological principles can arise from all of his musings about the absolute goodness and power of God. A philosophy class or two can be evidence of that. But Calvin does not concern himself with such matters! Instead, he focuses almost entirely on why such a position of reverence and self disparagement is necessary for building a relationship with God which focuses on submission and filling the lack all people have in themselves. 

From where does Calvin draw some of his most persuasive proofs on our dependence on God? 

Nature. Echoing the words of all Christians concerned with nature from Augustine to Pope Francis, Calvin attests the glory of God in creation. He seems to gasp in horror that, “Creation lights up all these bright lamps to demonstrate the glory of the Creator to us, all in vain.” Calvin’s theology of man’s dependence, and God’s absolute goodness are not abstract theological principles he is working out. His principles are realizations derived from life experience, and describes these beliefs as crucial for Christians who want to walk with God.

Scripture


Calvin had a lot to say about the Bible. He encouraged constant study of it. He himself was consumed by a constant effort to learn more, to distill more knowledge from the text. It was a tradition that was picked up later by Puritan theologians in the United States. 

Why did Calvin put so much focus on the scripture? Again, it was a practical concern. Calvin saw the Bible as a repository for sound teaching. If we could only learn everything about the Bible than we would no longer find ourselves in the throes of inadequate and dangerous theology. Becoming learned in scripture was a hedge around ungodliness, which would threaten our walk with our Creator

In this, Calvin gives the Holy Spirit one of its most important roles. The Holy Spirit guides the reader through scripture. This is where Calvin famously says, 

“Unbelievers think that religion is a matter of opinion and so demand rational proof that Moses and the prophets were inspired , if they are to sufficient grounds for belief. My reply is that the testimony of the Spirit is superior to reason.” 

I was always frustrated in college whenever someone who was Reformed would respond to any objection I had with, “Well that’s just a mystery.” Essentially, saying that reason is somehow the enemy. That view it is contrary to everything Calvin stood for. 

After explaining this idea Calvin goes on to dismiss “strange revelations from the Spirit” and praises studiousness of the word. 
Again, Calvin speaks with a practical voice. We might picture him saying something like, “Don’t worry if you don’t have an answer to every objection, keep studying the Word--the Spirit will reveal the answer to you.” Calvin demanded careful study of scripture in order to fully understand God, and this demand was made in order to preserve people’s walks. 

God’s Providence

You may note that I am skipping over Calvin’s discussions of the Trinity by moving on to his teaching on providence. Surely God will reward you for you astuteness. My reason for skipping the Trinity is simply to avoid spending too much time discussing essential orthodox Christianity since Calvin does not tread much new ground in his explanation. Also, providence is more fun. 

As I’ve been alluding to, and hopefully demonstrating, Calvin was concerned with practical theology. We often judge Calvin’s doctrine of providence in the opposite way. Instead, I hope I can contribute to important internet discussions of Calvin by thinking through this doctrine practically. I think a perfect summation of this is the statement by Calvin that, 
“The believer’s comfort in trouble is that everything they endure is ordained and commanded by God and that they are in His hands.”
Previously, Calvin had described God as a creator who is close to his creation, a creator who is actively involved in it. He is not sitting back, resting on his laurels while the world plays itself out. No! According to Calvin God is always close, actively sustaining you and everything else in love. So fret not! Even when God seems far, he is close. 

Now that sounds a lot nicer than when that line is quoted to show how Calvin makes God the author of sin, what Calvin was trying to do was God the author of comfort. There is very little evidence that Calvin was concerned with the meta-ethical implications of his view. Calvin connects this idea to Abraham when he exclaims that “God will provide.” Maybe Calvin’s view of providence is more akin to providing for us rather than presiding over us. 

Moreover, Calvin entitles the very next section “How to use this doctrine for our benefit.” Evidently, that’s what Calvin was thinking when discussing God’s ordering of the world. That God designed everything in order to “develop patience in his people, correct their vices, control their impurity, and stir them from laziness.” 

Sin, the Law, and Salvation

The doctrine of total depravity gets a really bad reputation. Are we really totally depraved. Is it really impossible for me to do something good without God. I think what we need to remember is that the doctrine was a tool for self-denial. Its use was to remind people to be humble. More importantly, Calvin has his eyes constantly set upon God, the ultimate creator of the universe, and Calvin implicitly compares everything to the standard of God. Therefore, in comparison to God, we probably aren’t all that great, Calvin’s views on sin and the fall seek to reinforce that. 

All of these insights temper Calvin’s view of the law. It was never meant to be a final solution, it was always meant to point to something else. The law is a tool of learning, to teach us to be more capable of being with God. In fact, practically speaking, Calvin’s view of the law connects very well to popular contemporary teaching on Paul’s view of the law. In a sense, the law was like training wheels, and it is still valuable like all scripture is: as a hedge against immorality which keeps us from our creator. 

Finally, we come to Christ. Christ, through whom God perfects humanity. Christ is God’s way of redeeming us, so that we may be like God. That insight is crucial, because with Christ it is possible to be like God. Not divine, but holy. Holy enough to be in a relationship with him. Calvin’s theology comes full circle. We are constantly told that we are not quite good enough, that God is so holy, but through Christ we experience communion with God. Through all of the other practical considerations of Calvin we can make ourselves ready for a relationship, and that relationship comes to being in Christ. Surely Calvin is not the pessimist that he is made out to be. Surely he is not the deep, complex, abstract thinker he is made out to be. 

Concluding Thoughts


I hope you saw that I never mentioned predestination. Calvin’s theology does not need it in order to be complete. All of our contemporary considerations of Calvin seem to miss the point of his practical theological musings. When we criticize and elevate this man, it ought to be through the lens he wrote. 

Of course there are numerous practical criticisms of Calvin that I did not even mention, and hopefully those will get brought up in the responses to this piece. What I hoped to accomplish in this piece was to reframe Calvin in a way that makes him a fresh theological voice again, he deserves as much. 

Monday, August 10, 2015

Mondays with Marilynne: One Kind of Vision

Last month in Mondays with Marilynne, we discussed novelist Marilynne Robinson's critical success, her cultural impact, and some of the ways her faith shapes her perspectives on the public life of our nation. It would be a mistake, however, to assume that Robinson's political vision is the most important aspect of her work. After all, there are other figures in contemporary Christianity saying, substantively, the same things as Robinson about social and economic issues, but there are few who are able to capture in such moving prose the beauty of a spiritual life.

Robinson's spirituality, like her politics, centers on the theology concept of imago Dei, the image of God. The centrality of this concept is evident from the first pages of her best known work, Gilead, in which the narrator John Ames, an aging Congregational minister, confesses:

“I can’t really tell what’s beautiful anymore. I passed two young fellows on the street the other day. I know who they are, they work at the garage. They’re not churchgoing, either one of them, just decent rascally young fellows who have to be joking all the time, and there they were, propped against the garage wall in the sunshine, lighting up their cigarettes. They’re always so black with grease and so strong with gasoline I don’t know why they don’t catch fire themselves. They were passing remarks back and forth the way they do and laughing that wicked way they have. And it seemed beautiful to me. It is an amazing thing to watch people laugh, the way it sort of takes them over. Sometimes they really do struggle with it. I see that in church often enough. So I wonder what it is and where it comes from, and I wonder what it expends out of your system, so that you have to do it till you’re done, like crying in a way, I suppose, except that laughter is much more easily spent. “When they saw me coming, of course the joking stopped, but I could see they were still laughing to themselves, thinking what the old preacher almost heard them say" (5).

Here we see Ames' characteristically Protestant way of being grandiose and understated at once. What Ames hears in the laughter or crying of the people around him is the laughter or crying of God's very Self. Although he'll occasionally launch into reflections on Calvin or Feuerbach, Ames is, on the whole, far more of pastor than a theologian, far more present to the people and things surrounding him than to anything he may have studied in seminary.

Ames, like Robinson herself, is alive to the mystery of divinity in humanity, a mystery which must be carefully taught and zealously guarded lest it go unnoticed: "You can know a thing to death and be for all purposes completely ignorant of it. A man can know his father, or his son, and there might still be nothing between them but love and loyalty and mutual incomprehension" (7). For Ames, this knowing in unknowing comes most clearly in the moments a human life begins or ends, moments he has been observing for a lifetime in his vocation as minister. He perceives this existential awareness as a gift of divine grace he received most clearly at the birth of his daughter, who died in infancy decades before the start of the novel:

 "Memory can make a thing seem to have been more than it was. But I know she did look right into my eyes. That is something. And I’m glad I knew it at the time, because now, in my present situation, now that I am about to leave this world, I realize there is nothing more astonishing than a human face … It has something to do with incarnation. You feel your obligation to a child when you have seen it and held it. Any human face is a claim on you, because you can’t help but understand the singularity of it, the courage and loneliness of it. I consider that to be one kind of vision, as mystical as any" (66).

The full beauty of Robinson's spirituality here is that, even if few of us will ever be able to write like Robinson, the experience to which she points is accessible to all of us--to anyone willing to pay attention to his or her neighbors, friends, family, anybody we meet. Here, admittedly, Robinson might owe as much to Whitman as to Whitefield, but the point remains. The simple attentiveness commended in these passages from Gilead gives rise to Christian love, and "Love is holy," Ames points out in perfectly Calvinistic fashion, "because it is like grace--the worthiness of its object is never really what matters." Rather, it is always something else. When we think of someone we love, we may be able to offer a list of characteristics in that person which we admire, but none of them constitute the reason we love the person. If we tried to name that mystery, I suspect the only language we'd have is the sort of religious vocabulary Robinson reclaims from the spewers of cliches: words like grace, love, incarnation--and yes, the image of God.




Saturday, August 8, 2015

The Contributors to the Reader


At Groupthink, our goal is to examine current theological questions in a kind and engaging manner, creating an atmosphere where Christians who believe differently may challenge each other to think in new and exciting ways about what it means to know God.

It is very difficult to cultivate a kind and engaging online community, however, when you're not online at all. Between work and family commitments, it seems that nearly all of us at Groupthink underestimated the amount of effort it would take to produce quality blog content on a regular basis.

This coming week, though, we're finally back with a series of reflections on the work of John Calvin, the next installment of Mondays with Marilynne, and a brand new feature essay for the weekend. We're also working to regularize our format and encourage engagement with readers through comments and social media.

You haven't heard the last of the Groupthink team. Our mission of spiritual exploration is only beginning.