APPENDIX A The Point of Contact in Classical Evangelical Thought: John Calvin
APPENDIX A
The Point of Contact in Classical Evangelical Thought: John Calvin
Calvin is nothing if not a biblical theologian. In his preface to the 1559 edition of his classic theological text the Institutes of the Christian Religion,1 he indicates that he conceived it as a volume of Christian doctrine that will aid its readers as they try to understand Scripture in its totality:
Although the Holy Scriptures contain a perfect doctrine, to which nothing can be added (our Lord having been pleased to unfold the infinite treasures of his wisdom therein), every person who is not intimately acquainted with them needs some sort of guidance and direction, as to what he or she ought to look for in them…Hence it is the duty of those who have received from God more light than others to assist the simple in this manner and, as it were, give them a helping hand to guide and assist them to find everything that God has been pleased to teach us in his word. Now, the best way of doing this is to deal systematically with all the main themes of Christian philosophy.
The Institutes is thus like a pair of spectacles through which Scripture may be properly read. It stresses the unity of Scripture, which might otherwise seem like a series of unconnected narratives and statements.
A helpful way of thinking of the relationship between Calvin’s Institutes and its foundations in Scripture (probably suggested by a growing Victorian public interest in botanical gardens) was put forward by the nineteenth-century Scottish writer Thomas Guthrie. Guthrie argued that Scripture was like nature, in which flowers and plants grow freely in their natural habitat, unordered by human hands. The human desire for orderliness leads to these same plants being collected and arranged in botanical gardens according to their species, in order that they can be individually studied in more detail. The same plants are found in different contexts—one of which is natural, the other of which is the result of human ordering. Doctrine represents the human attempt to order the ideas of Scripture, arranging them in a logical manner so that their mutual relation can be better understood.
The 1559 edition of Calvin’s Institutes opens with a sustained discussion of the vital issue of how we can know anything about God. Calvin’s doctrine of the knowledge of God is grounded in the dialectic he establishes between this knowledge in its natural and revealed forms. The first book of the Institutes opens with discussion of precisely this matter.2 Even before turning to discuss this question, however, Calvin stresses that “knowledge of God and of ourselves are connected” (Institutes I.i.1). Without a knowledge of God, we cannot truly know ourselves; without knowing ourselves, we cannot know God. The two forms of knowledge are “joined together by many bonds”; although they are distinct, they cannot be separated. It is impossible to have either in isolation. This principle is of fundamental importance to an understanding of Calvin’s strongly world-affirming theology: knowledge of God cannot be detached from, nor allowed to merge with, knowledge of human nature or of the world. A dialectic is constructed, resting upon a delicately balanced interplay between God and the world, between the Creator and his creation.
In dealing with our knowledge of God as the “creator and sovereign ruler of the world,” Calvin affirms that a general knowledge of God may be discerned throughout his creation—in humanity, in the natural order, and in the historical process itself. Two main grounds of such knowledge are identified, one subjective, the other objective. The first ground is a “sense of divinity (sensus divinitatis)” or a “seed of religion (semen religionis ),” implanted within every human being by God (I.iii.l; I.v.1). God himself has endowed human beings with an inbuilt sense or presentiment of his existence. It is as if something about God has been engraved in the hearts of every human being (I.x.3). Calvin identifies three consequences of this inbuilt awareness of divinity: the universality of religion (which, if uninformed by the Christian revelation, degenerates into idolatry: I.iii.1), a troubled conscience (I.iii.2), and a servile fear of God (I.iv.4). All of these, Calvin suggests, may serve as points of contact for the Christian proclamation.
The second such ground lies in experience of and reflection upon the ordering of the world. The fact that God is creator, together with an appreciation of his wisdom and justice, may be gained from an inspection of the created order, culminating in humanity itself (I.v.1-15). “God has revealed himself in such a beautiful and elegant construction of heaven and earth, showing and presenting himself there every day, that human beings cannot open their eyes without having to notice him” (I.v.1).
It is important to stress that Calvin makes no suggestion whatsoever that this knowledge of God from the created order is peculiar to, or restricted to, Christian believers. It is perhaps at this point that both Karl Barth and Cornelius van Til find themselves unable to endorse thoroughly Calvinian insights. For Calvin asserts that anyone, by intelligent and rational reflection upon the created order, should be able to arrive at the idea of God. The created order is a “theater” (I.v.5) or a “mirror” (I.v.11) for the displaying of the divine presence, nature, and attributes. Although God is himself invisible and incomprehensible, he makes himself known under the form of created and visible things (I.v.1). Although we cannot know God’s essence, we can know him through his created works (I.v.9).
Calvin further insists that the orderliness of creation is a vital witness to God, discernible to even the unbelieving human eye. Both the physical world and the human body testify to the wisdom and character of God.
In order that no one might be excluded from the means of obtaining happiness, God has been pleased, not only to place in our minds the seeds of religion of which we have already spoken, but to make known his perfection in the whole structure of the universe, and daily place himself in our view, in such a manner that we cannot open our eyes without being compelled to observe him…
Hence the author of the Letter to the Hebrews elegantly describes the visible world as images of the invisible, the elegant structure of the world serving as a kind of mirror in which we may see God, who is otherwise invisible…To prove his remarkable wisdom, both the heavens and the earth present us with countless simple proofs—not just those more advanced proofs which astronomy, medicine and all the other natural sciences are designed to illustrate, but proofs which force themselves on the attention of the most illiterate peasant, who cannot open his eyes without seeing them (I.v. 1–2).
Calvin thus commends both astronomy and medicine—indeed, he even confesses to being slightly jealous of them—in that they are able to probe more deeply into the natural world, and thus uncover further evidence of the orderliness of the creation and the wisdom of its creator.
Significantly, however, Calvin makes no appeal to specifically Christian sources of revelation in this entire analysis. His argument is based on empirical observation and ratiocination. If Calvin introduces scriptural quotations, it is to consolidate a general natural knowledge of God, rather than to establish that knowledge in the first place. There is, he stresses, a way of discerning God which is common to those inside and outside the Christian community (exteris et domesticis communem: I.v.6).
Having thus laid the foundations for a general knowledge of God, Calvin stresses its shortcomings; his dialogue partner here is Cicero, whose work de natura deorum, “on the nature of the gods,” is perhaps one of the most influential classical expositions of a natural knowledge of God.3 The epistemic distance between God and humanity, already of enormous magnitude, is increased still further on account of human sin. Our natural knowledge of God is imperfect and confused, even to the point of contradiction on occasion. A natural knowledge of God serves to deprive humanity of any excuse for ignoring him; nevertheless, it is inadequate as the basis of a full-fledged portrayal of the nature, character, and purposes of God. Calvin thus introduces the notion of biblical revelation; Scripture reiterates what may be known of God through nature, while simultaneously clarifying this general revelation and enhancing it (I.x.1). “The knowledge of God, which is clearly shown in the ordering of the world and in all creatures, is still more clearly and familiarly explained in the Word” (I.x.1). It is only through Scripture that the believer has access to knowledge of the redeeming actions of God in history, culminating in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ (I.vi.1–4). For Calvin, revelation is focused on the person of Jesus Christ; our knowledge of God is mediated through him (I.vi.1).
In that Jesus Christ is known only through the scriptural record, the centrality and indispensability of Scripture to theologian and believer alike is assured. Calvin adds, however, that Scripture can only be properly read and understood through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit (I.vii.1). Nevertheless, Calvin does not develop a mechanical or literal understanding of the inspiration of Scripture. It is certainly true that Calvin occasionally uses images that might suggest a mechanical view of inspiration—for example, referring to the biblical authors as “clerks” or “scribes,” or speaking of the Holy Spirit “dictating.” These images, however, are almost certainly to be understood metaphorically, as accommodations or visual figures. The content of Scripture is indeed divine—yet the form in which that content is embodied is human. Scripture is the verbum Dei, not the verba Dei. There is unquestionably an implicit parallel with the Incarnation at this point, as at so many other points in Calvin’s thought: divine and human coexist, without compromising or destroying each other. Scripture represents the Word of God mediated through the form of human words, weighted with divine authority on account of their origin.
God may thus be fully known only through Jesus Christ, who may in turn be known only through Scripture; the created order, however, provides important points of contact for, and partial resonances of, this revelation. Having thus identified the manner in which God may be known, Calvin proceeds to consider what may be known concerning him. At this point, nature is left behind. The doctrine of the Trinity, the first major aspect of his understanding of the nature of God to be expounded, is treated as a biblical doctrine resting on special revelation, rather than an insight which may be gained from general revelation or nature.
Let us summarize Calvin’s teaching. A distinction is drawn between “knowledge of God the creator” and “knowledge of God the redeemer.” A “knowledge of God the creator” may be had from both nature and Scripture, with the latter endorsing, extending, and clarifying what may be gleaned from the former. But this is not saving knowledge. “Knowledge of God the redeemer” may be found only through Jesus Christ, in Scripture. Nature thus points to Scripture, as Scripture points to Christ. A cascade of witnesses allows us to proceed from the creation to the Creator and thus to the Redeemer. A natural knowledge of God is thus foundational to Calvin’s apologetic. It is no accident that this vigorous defense of a natural knowledge of God, accompanied by a rigorous analysis of its apologetic implications, should open the pages of Calvin’s definitive 1559 Institutes.
Calvin’s views on the created order as a point of contact for divine revelation may be said to dominate the Reformed tradition until the nineteenth century. Nourished by such sources as Butler’s Analogy of Religion, this tradition had a distinguished history of use within Western Christianity. In the present century, however, it has faced a significant challenge from the approach to apologetics associated with Cornelius van Til, which we will discuss in Appendix B.