Kingdom Through Covenant

I recently finished reading this book by Peter Gentry and Stephen Wellum.  In essence, the book is an attempt to show a 'third way' between dispensationalism on the one hand and a Reformed covenantalism on the other.  If that immediately confuses you, think of it like this: this is a debate about how much continuity and discontinuity there is along the Biblical storyline.

For dispensationalists (although there are various flavours and varieties), there is a great deal of discontinuity.  The way God deals with human beings changes over the course of salvation history.  The discontinuity is greatest when we reach the 'new covenant' in Christ, when in the classical dispensationalist scheme the church is understood as a sort of parenthesis in God's plan, which is really still focussed on the Jewish people.  For dispensationalism, the covenant with Israel and the covenant with the church are totally different things.

In the classical Reformed scheme, on the other hand, there is one covenant, and it is common to talk about the 'unity of the covenant of grace'.  (Actually, on some versions of Reformed thinking there may be a couple of other covenants, notably the 'covenant of works' broken by Adam - but these are not hugely relevant here).  This is why many Reformed folk are keen on infant baptism, and not keen on Christian Zionism - the covenant is the same, so if infants were circumcised they are also to be baptised, and the people of God is also the same, so non-Christian Jews cannot still be related to God via a different covenant with different terms (although the covenant of grace may still have implications for them).

Gentry and Wellum's middle way has a lot to commend it.  The book itself I found quite hard going, but I think that is just because there was a lot of very, very detailed exegesis.  I struggle with that level of detail!  Actually, the book itself promised to be a mix of Biblical and systematic theology, but in fact it was almost entirely the former with a slight consideration of some of the headline implications for the latter.  But that is by the by,

The system itself is clear: the Biblical storyline is driven by the covenants, which really are different (contra the Reformed), but which all point in the same direction (contra dispensationalism) and all find their climax in the death and resurrection of Christ.  This is, I guess, a 'Reformed Baptist' hermeneutic, so it's no surprise I found it fairly convincing.  One of the most useful points I took from the book as a whole is the nature of all the covenants as both conditional and unconditional.  Whereas there has been a tendency to divide the covenants into those which are unconditional - God will uphold them no matter what - and those which are conditional - they depend on human obedience for fulfillment - Gentry and Wellum helpfully show that a large part of the narrative of Scripture is driven by the fact that all the covenants require human obedience, and yet underneath that requirement is God's sovereign determination to establish his covenant. It is the tension which this introduces, given the constant failure of the human partner, which drives the narrative forward, and is only resolved in the perfect human partner, Christ.  This also helpfully highlights the need for a clear doctrine of Christ's active obedience.

On the whole I found the book more convincing when tackling dispensationalism, but that could just be my bias.  I'd like to see more attention given to the implications of this Biblical Theology to Dogmatics/Systematic Theology.  Maybe that would be another book; this one is long enough!  But if you're up for a thorough examination of the issues, you could do much worse than this.

Regulated Worship

What should we actually do on a Sunday when we come together?  Historically, Reformed churches have upheld some form of the regulative principle (henceforth RP).  To quote the 1689 (Baptist) Confession - "But the acceptable way of worshipping the true God has been instituted by Himself, and therefore our method of worship is limited to His own revealed will.  He may not be worshipped according to the imaginations and devices of men...  He may not be worshipped by way of visible representations, or by any other way not prescribed in the Holy Scriptures" (my emphasis).  In other words, when we come together we may and must do only what God has commanded, in the way in which he has commanded it.


Historically, of course, the main target was initially Romanism, and then by 1689 Anglicanism.  The preface to the Book of Common Prayer declares that "the particular Forms of Divine worship, and the Rites and Ceremonies appointed to be used therein, [are] things in their own nature indifferent, and alterable" (my emphasis).  Here is a different understanding of the regulation of worship, as made explicit in Article 34: "IT is not necessary that Traditions and Ceremonies be in all places one, and utterly like; for at all times they have been divers, and may be changed according to the diversities of countries, times, and men's manners, so that nothing be ordained against God's Word" (my emphasis).  Where the Reformed sets forth a positive RP (only what is commanded), Anglicanism holds a negative RP (anything that is not forbidden).


What the two versions of RP have in common is that they are seeking to have worship that is regulated; that is to say, worship that is ruled.  Our approach to God and the service which we offer him is not to be derived arbitrarily from our brains.  We are not free to do as we please; rather, we are free to do what pleases God - which service is true freedom.

As an aside, it interests me that there is a parallel here with the differences over church government which exists between Anglicans and Reformed.  The Reformed insist that there is one Biblically mandated way to organise and run a church - although they will disagree over whether this is a Presbyterian or Independent model.  The Anglicans, on the other hand, will tend to say that no such Biblical model is given, and that within certain bounds churches are free to organise and run themselves as they see fit (with the proviso that catholic tradition should play a major part in the decision making process).

My sympathies are with the Reformed vision for regulated worship.  What we may do is what we must do; we are free to do what we are commanded.  As with the question of church government, what is at stake is our understanding of how Jesus rules his Church.  To my mind, the Reformed RP makes it far more clear that Christ is active in the rule and direction of the churches here and now by his word and Spirit.  Not only in doctrine, but in the liturgical actions that we take together on a Sunday, we are to be moved and directed only by him.

Having said that, I have some questions to put to the Reformed RP, which will end up meaning that I disagree strongly with the letter of it.  But of that, more later.

Mediaeval and Modern

Barth rounds off his treatment of the Reformed confessions with an account of the Synod of Dort. Whereas the earliest Reformed confessions were primarily directed against Roman Catholicism, and then Lutheranism, Dort deals with a new opponent: Modernism. The Remonstrance, brought by the Arminian party, was based soundly on modern principles, modern views of humanity, modern approaches to the Bible. At Dort, we see the Reformed churches locking horns with what would become modernist, or liberal, Protestantism.

But Barth sees nothing new here. In fact, he sees this modernist Christianity as having just the same foundations as mediaeval Christianity: faith in reason, a high view of the human being, the freedom of the will. In short, both begin with the autonomous human being, and end up with a co-operative view of salvation which can be labelled semi-Pelagian. On both fronts, against mediaevalism and modernism, the Reformed stress the sovereignty and majesty of God, who in Christ is the sole agent in redemption. God, and only God, saves.

In short, Dort was fighting the battle that has always been fought when God's Word comes up against intelligent, refined human philosophers and theologians.

In the conclusion to his lecture series, Barth asks: how do things stand with us? His answer, in 1923, was not encouraging: "If we look at our theology, then what we see first of all is a pile of ruins". Certainly, that was true then, as liberal modernist Protestantism carried all before it. We have done some rebuilding since, but I wonder whether I am alone in thinking that sometimes the rebuilding looks like a museum rather than a house to be lived in. We can say the words of the old confessions, and mean them, but do we grasp (have we been grasped by!) the beating heart of their theology? Do we have the courage to be exposed to revelation, to hear the gospel again, and to wrestle with the issues our fathers wrestled with in the language and concepts and context of the 21st century?

Visible and Invisible

Barth's longer section on the substance of the Reformed confessions is interesting in lots of different ways. The way he paints the historical picture is intriguing. He sees a rapid decline from the objectivity of the older confessions into a more subjective stance in the later - roughly, a movement away from talk about what God does, to talk about how I am saved. The Westminster Confession comes in for a lot of flack here! I don't know to what extent Barth is correct, but certainly I have observed in the English Puritans a certain subjectivism and emphasis on my assurance of salvation which does not seem to be so much of a problem in Calvin.

But that's not the main point.

Barth argues that what really ties the Reformed confessions together and makes them distinctively Reformed is that they hold together faith and obedience. Because the emphasis is on God, not human experience, the Reformed are able to see more clearly than, for example, Luther that faith and obedience flow from the same source - the Holy Spirit - and therefore they are able to stress both together in a way that Luther could not. This also allows them more substantial and enlightening engagement with the law than was possible on Lutheran soil. Barth uses the analogy of the incarnation. We hold that Christ has a human nature and a divine nature, and we do not confuse the two but neither do we divide them. In the same way, the Reformed confessions see God's action on the human being as bringing about faith and obedience - and they do not confuse these (faith justifies, obedience does not), nor do they divide them (faith without obedience is no true faith at all, because it cannot come from God - the author of obedience).

In other words, the Reformed hold the invisible (faith/justification) and the visible (obedience/sanctification) together because of their doctrine of the Holy Spirit. He is the personal source of both.

This overflows into ecclesiology - the invisible Church and the visible churches are held together, but never confused. Church discipline ensures that the visible church is conformed to some extent to the invisible Church, but there is never any attempt at complete purity because that is a trait of the invisible Church.

This tension is hard to hold, but I believe it must be held. The Christian life is a life of obedience and war against sin, not just peaceful basking in justification. The Christian church is a community of obedience and peace, not a live-and-let-live society of ease. The Holy Spirit, who creates justifying faith and therefore the invisible Church, also creates sanctifying holiness, and therefore the visible church.

The Reformed vs. Rome

Barth moves on to discuss the substance of the Reformed confessions. What holds them together? What makes them distinctively Reformed?

One thing which the confessions have in common, although it is particularly pronounced in the earlier confessions for obvious historical reasons, is opposition to Roman Catholicism. "In the bitterness and disgust with which they speak of the pope and the mass, there is scarcely any notable difference between the Swiss and the German, the Eastern and the Western confessions". Barth argues that this opposition to Romanism is more deliberate, and more central, to the Reformed confessions than to the Lutheran, although all Protestant confessions carry the awareness that Rome is the undoubted enemy.

Barth sees two subtly different positions at work here. The Lutherans are cross with Rome because Rome robs Christians of assurance and despoils Christendom (thus dishonouring God); the Reformed are cross with Rome because Rome dishonours God (by robbing Christians of assurance etc). The Lutheran confessions stress salvation by faith in Christ; the Reformed confessions stress salvation by Christ through faith. The Lutheran position is pastoral first; the Reformed position is theological first.

Now, I don't know how accurate a portrait that is of Lutheranism, but I think it captures Reformed concerns perfectly. The point is that, contra Rome, the Reformed maintain that God does everything. Hence the typical (almost stereotypical) Reformed concern for the sovereignty of God, expressed in the doctrine of predestination.

Here is theology I can get behind!

The Principle of Scripture and its Grounds

The second part of Barth's lecture series on the Reformed confessions looks particularly at the Scripture Principle. The principle is expressed by Barth thus: "The church recognises the rule of its proclamation solely in the Word of God and finds the Word of God solely in Holy Scripture". In other words, this is what has been called the 'formal principle' of the Reformation - Sola Scriptura, the Bible alone.

Barth again develops a contrast with Lutheranism. In many ways the Lutheran Church is the church of the 'material principle' of the Reformation - justification by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. This is the organising 'idea' of Lutheran theology, and it is noticeable that this has an effect on the way the Lutherans approach the Bible. Consider Luther's attitude to James, for example: it doesn't teach justification by faith alone, therefore it is secondary, unexciting. This also allows for the privileged position accorded in Lutheranism to the Augustana and to the work of Luther generally.

The Reformed churches, on the other hand, took up the 'formal principle' as their particular emphasis. That ruled out the possibility that they should become 'Calvinist churches' or 'Zwinglian churches' in the same sense as the Lutheran Church. Scripture alone also ensured that the Reformed confessions took on a very different role to the Augustana. The Reformed churches could only see their confessions as pointing to Scripture. They were not the light, but they pointed to the light (Barth develops the analogy with John the Baptist, an important one for his theology generally). In essence, Reformed Christianity is simply this attitude to Sola Scriptura.

He goes on to trace the idea of the grounds of this principle. In Calvin, the grounds of the Scripture Principle is simply the Spirit speaking in Holy Scripture. The Bible is God's Word because God address me in it. The Spirit in me and the Spirit in the Word are one. The early Reformed confessions generally take this line. Even at this early stage - and even in Calvin - it is acceptable to append arguments from the style or circumstances of Scripture, but they are understood as just that: appendices. The main point is Inspiration, and the witness of the Holy Spirit.

The sad history of the Reformed churches is a move away from this basis in two directions. Firstly, there is a tendency to make the arguments which had been appended to the Scripture Principle the real basis for taking Scripture as God's Word. A loss of confidence in the basis of the Principle in the doctrine (and experience!) of the Holy Spirit led to more emphasis on the arguments, and eventually to the arguments taking over. Scripture is made subject to the judgement and reason of human beings.

Secondly, there is a tendency to make the Bible just one thing amongst many others. Obviously, this goes hand in hand with the first. There is a movement away from seeing God revealed only in the Bible, to seeing the Bible as merely the pinnacle of God's revelation in creation and the human spirit.

In both cases, the door is opened to Protestant liberalism and modernism. That door is shut again only when we say that the Word of God in Scripture is self-authenticating. God witnesses to God. The Word of God is not chained, but speaks clearly and powerfully by the Holy Spirit.

The Theology of the Reformed Confessions

I've just started reading Barth's treatment of the Reformed confessions, delivered as lectures in 1923. The first section deals with "the significance of the confession in the Reformed Church", and is extremely interesting to me, and I hope to other people.

Barth tells the story of the Reformed confessions by contrasting their reception with the place of the Augsburg Confession (the 'Augustana') in Lutheranism. The Augsburg Confession was very quickly considered to be on a level with the ecumenical creeds of the Church. The Lutheran Church was still very much wedded to the old Imperial ideal - one Empire, one Church - and so the Confession could hardly be received as anything else. Moreover, the Confession had been presented to the Emperor - albeit only as a protest, since it was not received. It was therefore a public and ecumenical confession, in the eyes of Lutheran theologians at least. It was only a small step from there to the Book of Concord, which upholds the Augustana, along with various other Lutheran products, as the standard of faith never to be shaken. As Barth points out, this leads to the exaltation of the Confession to the level of Scripture - the Formula of Concord makes regular reference to "the Word of God and the Augsburg Confession" as things which are hardly separable. Luther is seen as essentially a new apostle; the Confession is the product of the Holy Spirit.

This should never happen in a Reformed Church. The Reformed churches were happy for there to be numerous confessions, not fixing on one form of words, because they saw that the confessions were the products of particular churches. They confessed the faith which churches had received from the Scriptures. As such they were always in principle open to correction. Thus Zwingli: "where I have not now correctly understood the said Scripture, I am ready to be corrected and instructed from the aforesaid Scripture". Confessions in the Reformed tradition were understood to be provisional, even when loyalty to them was demanded of the church's teachers in the strongest terms.

It seems to me that (if Barth's view of Lutheranism is correct), the Lutheran Church views authority as coming from Scripture, via the Confession, to the Church. The Confession stands above the Church, as a kind of subordinate Scripture. Barth's picture of the Reformed view has authority come directly from Scripture to the Church, which produces the confession as a result of what it has heard and understood from Scripture. Because it is what the church has heard, the confession cannot then be set aside lightly, but it can be modified and even replaced in time.

Barth concludes that we don't have new Reformed confessions of the standard and profundity of the older confessions simply because we do not have Christians and theologians who are being reformed by the Scriptures. Reformed confessions come from Reformed Christians, and Reformed Christians are brought to birth by Holy Scripture.

"The current situation [now as in 1923!] does make it especially advisable that the Reformed church should set its only hope (truly its only hope) on the prayer 'Come, Creator Spirit!'"

Reformation Day '09

When we're remembering the Reformation, it's right that we remember and celebrate Holy Scripture. The Bible was in the driving seat of the Reformation. Because of the Bible, the Church lived again. Because of the Bible, there is hope that the Church can still be given new strength.

When the Church stands under Scripture, she finds herself opened up. She has had many conversations and debates going on within her walls. Theologians have talked, churchmen have talked, poets have talked. The members of the Church have spoken to and with one another, and that is how it should be. But when the Bible is opened, the Church is also opened. She is no longer talking to herself. There is a voice from outside.

The Prophets and Apostles, commissioned by Christ to be his witnesses, still speak and still witness. Their voices are heard in the Scriptures. Their voices cut through out intra mural chatter. Because they were the first - because they touched and saw and heard and spoke with - they demand a hearing. We must listen. Their voices confront us and shake us, and break through our cultural barriers and our churchly comfort. Strange voices that we have not known give us, unexpected and all of a sudden, reality.

And in and through and above their voices, the Voice. To be open to Scripture is to be open to the Lord. He speaks to his Church. Are we still listening?

"Reformed"

When I were a lad, I spent my time in churches which were very keen on being Reformed. Discussions could be had about who was 'really' Reformed and who was just faking. I enjoyed it at the time. More recently, I've had conversations with people about what it might mean to be a 'Reformed charismatic' - something that never came up in my youth, as we all knew that 'Reformed' and 'charismatic' were mutually exclusive terms. I wonder whether it might be useful to run down the different ways the word 'Reformed' is used, to aid us in our scintillating chats about who is in and who is out?

'Reformed' could be used in a purely historical sense. In the 16th Century, the Protestant Reformation led to the emergence of three great Protestant churches: the Lutherans, the Anglicans, and the Reformed. (On another reading of history, there were maybe just two big strands, with Anglicanism being a subset of Reformed. I think this is less useful, descriptively and analytically, just because of the huge differences between Anglicanism and other 'Reformed' churches). Obviously, there are now churches which would claim descent from the Reformed wing of the Reformation. It is a fact that many of them, particularly on the Continent - although one could also think of the URC, now tend towards a theology which is either a significant modification or a near-total repudiation of the theology of the 16th Century Reformed. Still, they have an obvious claim to the title. Perhaps we should speak of church today which have 'Reformed heritage', thus acknowledging the link without making any theological claims.

'Reformed' could also be used in a theological sense, in at least two ways. We could identify a 'thick' Reformed theology and a 'thin' one. On the thick understanding of 'Reformed', we would be talking essentially about the Christian Institutes of John Calvin. Reformed theology is covenantal and paedobaptist, characterised by a particular view of the relation between Word and Spirit, cessationist with regard to miraculous gifts, presbyterian in church polity, placing a strong emphasis on the sovereignty of God in revelation and salvation. I think you could make a good argument for this being the most comprehensive definition of 'Reformed', and the most useful, for reasons to be explained. We could perhaps talk about churches which espouse this theology today as having 'Reformed doctrine'.

The 'thin' understanding of what it means to be theologically Reformed tends to take a subset of the beliefs above, which are taken to be the 'heart' of the whole system, and makes these beliefs the meaning of 'Reformed'. This tends, in practice, to mean being Calvinists in terms of how people are saved, espousing a high view of the sovereignty of God. There are many churches that would take this line, and we could perhaps talk about them having 'Reformed soteriology'.

So, who is Reformed?

On the first understanding, the URC is and newfrontiers isn't. The URC stands in a direct line of succession from historically Reformed churches, whereas newfrontiers does not.

On the second understanding, the URC is not, nor is newfrontiers, nor is any baptist church. In the UK, you could go to the Free Church of Scotland, or perhaps the EPCEW. You'd struggle to find any other churches that are doctrinally Reformed in this maximal sense.

On the third understanding, newfrontiers is Reformed, as are all FIEC congregations I've ever been to, as are many evangelical Anglican churches.

My own judgement would be that we should use 'Reformed' in the second sense, primarily. I think it is useful to give a word the maximum definition it will take, for purposes of clarity and analysis. I also think it is clear that the historically Reformed would want us to think of theology and not merely heritage as the defining mark of their movement.

So I think only presbyterians are Reformed. We could perhaps use qualifying language to show the relationship that other churches stand in to this tradition - whether historic or theological. Personally, I am an anabaptist, holding (lightly modified, but still very clearly) Reformed soteriology and a (more heavily modified) Reformed understanding of Word and Spirit. Perhaps I could say I am an anabaptist with a theological debt to Reformed theology. But I'm not 'properly' Reformed, and I'm okay with that.