Calvinism or Lollardism?

An interesting theme that has peeked its head out several times in both Oliver O’Donovan and Joan O’Donovan’s classes this past term has been the gap between Calvin and Calvinism, and I thought it would be worthwhile sharing some of their remarks here.  To point out that later Calvinists were not necessarily the most faithful followers of Calvin’s own thought,  is, of course, nothing new; however, it cannot be overemphasized, in light of how blithely and readily followers of the English Puritan or Scotch Presbyterian traditions identify themselves as Calvinists. 

According to Oliver O’Donovan (henceforth O O’D), the Presbyterian/Puritan movement followed Calvin in about the same way that the early Anglican movement adopted Luther--he provided a convenient figurehead under which to align themselves, and his ideas were invoked when useful, but much of the impetus was quite different.  Indeed, O O’D went so far as to state his conviction that the English Puritan movement was in fact more of a Lollard movement, rooted in the paradigms established by Wycliffe two centuries before, than it was ever a Calvinist movement; it had (shocking as it may be to today’s Presbyterians) too much Catholicism about it to be genuinely Calvinist, more Catholicism than any other major Protestant group.  This last statement turns standard Presbyterian paradigms--by which the 17th-century Puritans and their evangelical descendants finished purging the relics of Catholicism out of the excellent, but incomplete, reforms of Calvin and the English Reformation--on their heads.  What can O O’D mean?  

Some discussions in his wife Joan (henceforth J O’D)’s class shed some light.  The differences on issues relating to political theology and church polity are particularly significant.  For Calvin, although discipline is an important responsibility of the Church, it is never elevated to the point of an essential mark.  For followers like John Knox (of whom Calvin was always suspicious, and who was more of a co-belligerent of convenience than a genuine follower, according to the O’Ds) and the English Presbyterians, church discipline, understood in an increasingly juridical fashion, was an essential mark of the Church, and it was not long before discipline, as practiced in Presbyterian circles, regained much of the character of the Catholic penitential system, so that their Anglican adversaries derisively called the Presbyterians “Jesuit Puritans.”  Connected to this was an increasing focus on works-righteousness, deriving in part, O O’D suggests, from a new use of the doctrine of predestination.  Whereas Calvin had emphasized the mystery and inscrutability of predestination, the Puritans came more and more to insist on its perspicacity, as if we could not only know that God was in control, but read his will through outward signs.  If you prospered, God was blessing you; if you suffered, you were under judgment.  If you were elect, it must be visible in certain characteristic fruits.  Increasingly, the marks by which one could make sure of one’s election were precisely delineated, which led to an increasingly Catholic piety focused on externals.  

There was also a strong tendency, mentioned by both O’Ds, for subsequent Presbyterianism/Puritanism to do away with the large range of adiaphora established by Calvin.  For Calvin, church polity was essentially indifferent--different forms could be appropriate in different times and places.  The Presbyterians made presbyterianism essential.  For Calvin, civil polity was also variable, but Presbyterians (particularly following John Knox) made republicanism the absolute ideal.  Various aspects of church order that Calvin recommended patience and flexibility became matters over which subseqent “Calvinists” would (literally) fight to the death.  Whereas Calvin had firmly insisted that Old Testament civil law was not binding on Christian polities, Knox and his followers were thoroughly theonomist, insisting on a Christian state that rigidly conformed to the specifics of OT Israel.  This perfectionist goal of an authentically Christian civil order results, according to J O’D, in a slide from Calvin’s covenant of grace into a new social covenant of works, in which the salvation of society depends on a civilly enforced resolution to resist idolatry.  This becomes quite explicit in the Scotch Covenanter movement.

Since John Calvin makes a rather more impressive and respectable theological ancestor than John Knox, there has been a tendency on the part of later Presbyterianism to identify itself completely with Calvin, and to read back all of its idiosyncratic Puritanism into Calvin.  Reformation scholarship has now increasingly demonstrated the untenability of this reading, and it is about time for Presbyterian churches to catch up, and face up to this deeply-embedded schizophrenia.

I'll Take the High (Church) Road #3: Ye Shall Know Them by Their Fruits

There’s not much ethos in trying to become Anglican at this particular moment in the Church’s history, is there? I have to wince every time at work when we hear NPR report on the latest round of homosexual idiocy in the Anglican Communion, having recently announced to my coworkers my commitment to the Anglican tradition. It sure makes people wonder what I could possibly find so attractive in the Anglican Church as it is now that I’d be willing to ditch the admittedly attractive glories of the CREC.

Now, with a robust enough view of apostolic succession and the importance of the historical institutions of the Church, you could dismiss most of this concern: “So what if they’ve got problems—at least they have the divine commission, and we don’t.” But I don’t really see the need to go quite there, especially since that still doesn’t fully dodge the problem—apostolic succession is worthless if it’s accompanied by complete apostasy. Otherwise, why shouldn’t the Arian bishops have continued to wield authority?

Nor can such an objection be dismissed as mere rhetorical posturing. There is a serious Protestant argument lodged here—namely, “ye shall know them by their fruits.” The argument insists that the true Church is not to be identified by any simple external claim to authority via apostolic succession, but by the fruits of the Spirit. The historic churches have largely fallen into nominalism or apostasy, while we in the Protestant tradition have maintained the true faith and propagated it widely; our churches are so much more vibrant and wholesome, so the presence of the Spirit is visible among us. Why then abandon a place where the Spirit is quite obviously concretely working for a mere theoretical presence of the Spirit through apostolic succession?

Unless you insist that the proper external authority is the only thing that matters, whatever else may be lacking, then this objection is a potentially serious one. For a Protestant can even willingly accept that apostolic succession is tremendously important for the Church, and even that a church that lacks it is lacking a certain fullness of life and blessing as a Church. They can grant that, but then turn around and say, “But, the gospel, a holy Christian life, knowledge of the Word, etc., are tremendously important for the Church, and a church that lack any of these is lacking a certain fullness of life and blessing as a Church. On what basis then should you ditch a church that is deficient in one area for a church that is even more deficient, perhaps, in other areas?”

I think this is a legitimate objection and that we do have to recognize that each church has strengths and weaknesses, and that a strength in one area, however important, cannot necessarily compensate for any number of weaknesses in other areas. So we have to weigh these things, and we must do as Christ says in judging them by their fruits. So let’s try and make that judgment in the case of Anglicanism vs. Protestantism in general, and more specifically, the Presbyterian and Reformed tradition. I have three responses in favor of Anglicanism and its fruits (and much of the same defense could apply to the Catholic Church as well). Then I will offer a final response specifically against the CREC and its fruits.

First, what kind of fruit are you looking for?
I think this is a much-ignored presupposition when you get into this discussion. For us in the Reformed tradition, the first fruit we take a look at is doctrinal purity. “Look,” we cry “at least we’ve held on to the faith! We still maintain the Gospel over against liberalism and feminism, and all that!” It’s self-evident to us that we have more fruits, because we’re only looking for one variety of fruit. It’s as if we look at our orchard, where we’ve planted only apple trees, and, after counting up all the apples, brag that we have far more fruit than our neighbor’s orchard, where a lesser number of apple trees are mixed in with a plentiful supply of peach and pear trees as well. But an Anglican, or a Catholic, looks out at the same scene, and says, “Look, at least we’ve stayed united! Y’all have scattered to the four winds, or rather the four thousand winds, but at least we’ve still been able to basically stay together.” From their perspective, we’re obviously the ones lacking fruit. Now, I think both are necessary, of course, and godless unity is no fruit of the Spirit. But I think Protestants need to be careful that they are not screening out any factors that may make the other side look better. While we in the Reformed tradition have undoubtedly maintained a deep and strong knowledge of the Word, and a commitment to sound doctrine (at least in many areas), and this is a fruit worth regarding and worth preserving, we are deplorably lacking in other fruits that the Church should produce—a robust understanding of sacramental grace, with all its benefits in the life of believers; a people that are shaped by liturgy, even subconsciously, and all the benefits of such a way of life and worship; a strong sense of Christian unity…nay, any sense of Christian unity; a proper respect for authority; a vigorous missional orientation, with emphasis on relief of people’s physical needs. All these and more are terribly lacking in our tradition, so how can we say that we have more fruits than they simply because we have more of a certain kind of fruit?

Second, where have you hidden all the rotten fruit?
This ties in rather directly with the previous point, but here, the point is more specifically that even in those areas where the Reformed and Protestant traditions claim to possess all the good fruit, they are hiding much of the picture and are perhaps not nearly so well off. My contention is that, in our tradition, we have simply refused to count everyone who bears bad fruit; we’re like the family that looks perfect because we refuse to associate with all the bad family members, and we cast dirty looks at the family next door that still invites all the awkward and annoying and even downright rotten family members to the family reunions.
“We Presbyterians don’t have homosexuals in the pulpit.” Oh yeah? What about the PCUSA, the largest Presbyterian body in the country? We cut ourselves off from them and stopped counting them long ago, and so we can pretend we’re pure; but the Church that has stuck together, through thick and thin, looks worse just because they’re still dealing with their ugly members. If you actually look at our tradition as a whole, and pretend for a moment that we haven’t split a gazillion times, the majority of it is liberal, apostate, universalist, feminist, supportive of homosexuals, etc, with a generous helping of Unitarians, deists, Pelagians, Arians, and the rest mixed in. Look how the Congregationalists, who basically share our tradition, went into almost wholesale apostasy. By comparison, the Anglican Communion doesn’t look so bad, especially when you look beyond our national borders and see the vast majority of Anglicans worldwide, who hold fervently to the full gospel.

Third, what are your taste buds?
This again relates closely to the first point—by what standard are you judging what is and isn’t good fruit? This is a more minor issue than the other two, but I think it is still potentially huge. If you ask your typical Reformed person what all the bad fruit is that they’re not happy with over in the Anglican tradition, they might make a few remarks about homosexuals and women and that sort of thing, but when you really dig down, you find that things like “dead liturgy” and “idolatry in worship” and “lack of good teaching” and “sacerdotalism” are all mixed in there too. Of course, if Reformed judgments about how word, sacrament, and liturgy should work are indeed correct, these are all fair objections. But this seems to be mere question-begging. We’ve trained our taste buds to identify certain practices as bad, and so we spit them right out, without ever chewing on them enough to discern if they really are bad. We’re like the kid who just knows that he doesn’t like his vegetables and only when he’s 18 or so does he discover that actually broccoli and brussel sprouts taste quite good once he gives them an honest chance. I believe that once you do get down to it and really taste the fruit offered in Anglicanism’s liturgy and sacraments, you realize that that tasty stuff you thought you’d had was no more than high fructose corn syrup with artificial flavors and Yellow 3.

The Parable of the Sower
To this argument I’d like to add a brief, more specific defense of Anglicanism vis-a-vis the CREC. A lot of people are going to ask, “Why would you leave such a thriving, prospering denomination as the CREC, where so much great theology and church-building and ministry and liturgical reform is going on? Judge by their fruits, man! Obviously God is working a lot more here right now than there.” This is potentially persuasive, and even now, I think there’s a lot of truth in it, but I think there’s a pretty simple Scriptural answer:
“A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed…seeds fell on rocky ground, where they did not have much soil, and immediately they sprang up, since hey had no depth of soil, but when the sun rose they were scorched, and since they had no root, they withered away….Other seeds fell on good soil and produced grain, some a hundredfold, some sixty, some thirty….As for what was sown on the rocky ground, this is the one who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy, yet he has no root in himself, but endures for a while, and when tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word, immediately he falls away….As for what was sown on good soil, this is the one who hears the word and understands it. He indeed bears fruit and yields, in one case a hundredfold, in another sixty, in another thirty.”

I hate to be cynical, but just because the CREC’s growing fast does not mean it will yield good fruit in the long run. Weeds grow fast. The fact is, there is no root there, no foundation, and so I fear I must be pessimistic about their ability to yield long-term fruit.

Pro Ecclesia Christi,
Johannulus