David R. Smith
5
JOHN FLETCHER: AN ARMINIAN UPHOLDER OF HOLINESS
David R. Smith
In 1771 John Fletcher placed upon record his opinion that even as God had raised up St. James among the early Christians to defend orthodoxy against the encroachments of Antinomians, so He had—in the eighteenth century—raised up John Wesley for the same purpose! We may never know if Mr. Fletcher wrote such sentiments in order to increase the weight of his personal defense of Mr. Wesley against the charges of heresy by Walter Shirley, or if he was inwardly convinced of this forthright statement. What we do know is that when Fletcher died in 1785, the vast majority of the evangelicals in Western countries wept at the loss of one who had lived so holy a life that a divine translation (after the fashion of Enoch) would not have seemed inappropriate. For, although he had a miserable opinion of himself and of his labors, others waxed eloquent when they described his character. John Wesley wrote that “he had known many excellent men, holy in heart and life. But one equal to John Fletcher I have not known, nor do I expect to find another such on this side of eternity.” If this appears to be mere praise, which had to be bestowed upon a departed faithful friend, we must not forget that such language was used by almost all other Christians who knew Fletcher. Joseph Benson, a member of the staff at Trevecca College, wrote that “perhaps a more holy man never appeared in this country.” Fletcher’s wife Mary (née Bosanquet), herself a most devout woman, said that she “never did behold anyone more dead to the things of this world . . . all his union with me was so intermingled with prayer and praise, that every employment, and every meal, was—as it were—perfumed therewith.” Robert Hall wrote that “Fletcher is a seraph who burns with the ardours of divine love, and seems habitually to have anticipated the rapture of the beatific vision.” Gilpin, a neighboring vicar in Shropshire, wrote in his Biographical Notes that “examples of deep humility are uncommon, but among the rarest examples of this, Fletcher must be allowed a distinguished place.”
However, even a flood of character references must not make us presume more than we ought, if they are from people who were personal friends of John Fletcher. It should not be assumed that his godliness was genuine without first taking into account the views of those who had opposite theological opinions, and also of those who had been his enemies. Well, then, what did his opponents say of him? The Calvinist Henry Venn said, “Fletcher was a luminary: a luminary did I say? He was a sun. I have known all the great men for these fifty years; but I have known none like him. I was intimately acquainted with him, and was under the same roof with him once for six weeks; during which time I never heard him say a single word which was not proper to be spoken.” The editors of The Theological and Biblical Magazine wrote, “Whatever difference of opinion may be entertained respecting some important points of doctrine, which the late Mr. Fletcher publicly maintained, we believe that there is but one opinion as to the exalted piety of this eminent Christian. His humility, disinterestedness, affection, zeal, and heavenly-mindedness, have perhaps, seldom been equaled; and few, we believe, can rise from a perusal of his life story without being ashamed of their own unprofitableness, and adoring the riches of Divine Grace, which were so extraordinarily manifested to this man of God.” The editor of The Eclectic Review was no less forthcoming, for he wrote: “In whatever period he had lived, to whatever department of Christians he had belonged, he would have shone in the religious hemisphere, as a star of the first magnitude.” Now, after his opponents, let us see what his enemies said of him following his death. The local newspaper, reflecting the general opinions of the local gentry and chief readers, took a great deal of space to comment upon the vicar who had been the cause of so much criticism earlier. Instead of finding fault, now the newspaper spoke eloquently of “this great character” of “exalted piety,” whose labors “will never be forgotten” in Madeley. And the very ones who had sought to drive him out of the town, because of his effect upon the vices of the neighborhood, gave liberally to erect a monument on which they had inscribed such words as these: “His unexampled labours will long be remembered . . . with uncommon zeal and ability . . . many believed his report, and became his joy and crown of rejoicing. ”
In other words, from these quotations (which represent many others which could be given) it appears that John Fletcher’s outstanding sanctity (as The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church puts it1) was recognized by friend and foe alike, even if grudgingly. Therefore, we may assume that the godliness—for which this man will ever be remembered—was not simply the creation of those of like mind, but was genuine and made an impact upon others. Having established, as far as one is able to do at this distance, the fact of Fletcher’s godliness, we must reflect why we are considering this particular Arminian, and why the subject of holiness has any reference to the general topic of the Synod of Dort. It so happens that John Fletcher was appointed the first President of the Countess of Huntingdon’s College at Trevecca, on the grounds of his ability and example, almost exactly 200 years ago. Also, it is true to say that whenever the Arminian/Calvinist controversy is discussed, the name of John Fletcher must arise because of the considerable views he has offered on this matter. The subject of holiness has been chosen out of all the possible ones since this was the cornerstone of his arguments relating to the Calvinian position, in a way that will be explained. I hope to show that he was an upholder of biblical holiness in his personal life, and that this was why even Calvinists felt free to thank God for his life and witness, but that he also sought to uphold general principles of holiness in every sphere in which he moved.
Fletcher’s Background
John Fletcher was born in Switzerland in 1729, into one of the most respected families in the Canton of Berne. His education and upbringing helped to mold the general character of a lad who, from the earliest years, had an obvious regard for the sovereignty of God. He spoke French and German fluently at fourteen years of age, and within a further two years was well acquainted with both Hebrew and Greek, and also had the rudiments of English. He had a tender conscience and gentlemanly habits throughout his teenage years, and showed such a constant desire to please God that his parents took it for granted that he would become a minister of religion.
Switzerland had been represented at the Synod of Dort, just over one century previously, but there is little to suggest that this country had been much influenced by the Remonstrance controversy. The land of Fletcher’s birth was constitutionally Calvinistic, and so this young student would learn of Arminianism in only a scholastic way, and be taught that this was a rival system of theology. It was not until he met the Wesleyan Methodists in London that he came face-to-face with people who were deeply religious and yet were not Calvinists. At school in Geneva, he took a theological course to comply with the wishes of his family, and here the tenets of Reformed doctrine were expounded to him. He reveled in these studies, not only because he had a natural aptitude for devotional things, but also because he wished to know more about the Lord of whom he spoke so often. Only one thing distressed him: he found it immensely difficult to comprehend that the Father of the Lord Jesus Christ would deliberately choose to condemn souls, from eternity for eternity.
Before we exclaim that he had misunderstood basic doctrine, if he saw things in this way, let us bear in mind that he was not yet twenty years of age and that he knew nothing of biblical salvation. If we need to direct any criticism at anyone, we may do better to forget young Fletcher for a moment and consider the state of the Church in his country at that time. Whenever we read of an unconverted person being accepted as a theological student, we should ponder upon the system which permits this to happen. Later in life, John Fletcher considered all Calvinism on the basis of what he had seen in the Swiss Church in his early years. We may reply that this was not true Calvinism (if Calvinism at all), but we have to accept that it went under that name, despite its philosophical character and spiritual deadness. He finally informed his tutors that he would be unable to preach about reprobation to future parishioners, and that—also—he had a growing sense of unworthiness at the thought of taking holy orders and administering the sacraments. Unsure of which career to follow, and unwilling to disgrace his family, he quickly decided to follow in his father’s footsteps and join the Army.
However, Fletcher was prevented from becoming an officer in every Army to which he applied, and soon afterwards came to England, where—in due course—he met the Methodists. After a long season of deep conviction of sin, he was regenerated in a remarkable way and wasted no time in seeking ordination and entry to the ministry. From the time of his leaving Geneva until the day of his conversion, it is said that he “was anxious to possess every moral perfection,” and took great pains to acquire dignified behavior on all occasions. This does not mean that he was a typical teenage idealist who ignored realities and lived with his head in the clouds. John Fletcher had too clear a view of the doctrine of depravity to be an idealist; he just wanted to be a good Christian. It had not then dawned upon him that one becomes a Christian after passing through experiences of conviction of sin, repentance, and so on. Despite his theological training, and church membership preparation classes, he had the idea that a Christian is one who lives a good life after baptism. On the other hand, knowing that he had been born in sin, he knew that he would have to apply himself to the task of becoming godly with no small effort. The testimonies to his life, in those days, amply prove that he spared nothing in these efforts to redeem himself. Also, he was spurred on in these resolves by two factors: first, it seemed logical to him that God’s children should have a recognizable affiliation to their Creator, and, second, he was distressed by the general behavior of many in Switzerland who stated that they were “elect believers.” When, later in life, he visited Switzerland, some of his former tutors and many of the clergy confessed to him, and to their congregations, that through his preaching they had been touched by the power of true religion for the first time. To say that Fletcher was distressed by the behavior of many professing Christians does not imply that there was no love for godliness in Switzerland. It is simply that there was a covering of orthodox religion, but little heart experience; the average person was as much in darkness as a heathen, but outwardly there was a veil of Christianity. Fletcher’s visit to his homeland in 1770 did much to arouse the clergy to seek personal experiences with God. The oldest minister in Nyon said, when the day of Fletcher’s departure drew near, “How unfortunate for this country; during my life it has produced but one angel of a man, and it is our lot to be deprived of him.”
So, we have a picture of an earnest young man who realized that genuine Christianity ought to change people, and should show in their lives, from day to day. One of the things which concerned him greatly was this: why do not church members radiate the joy and life which were such obvious features of the New Testament Christians? He could not understand why orthodox Protestantism was so lacking in vitality. He was sad about the fact that some leaders of the Christian community were no better than profligate sinners, but he was quite distressed that the best of the Christians of his acquaintanceship were far from being “on fire.” In this confused state of mind, he determined to be on the lookout for any who had a “spiritual glow,” and decided that he would join any company of Christians who enjoyed divine favor and appeared godly.
We can see that there was an element of logic here which would prove attractive to any zealous young man, but we must also recognize that this was an immature decision which could have led to disaster. Fortunately, the hand of the Lord seems to have been upon him, for this intention to link up with people who showed signs of true religion did not take him into the arms of any of the extremists who thronged England at that time, but to the very people who could speak to his case with appropriate care. It would be easy to find fault with John Fletcher at this point, and show that he acted from a false theological position, in believing that true spirituality must always produce sound doctrine, and that apparent deadness in Church circles is a proof of false doctrine. This would be unfair, however, in view of his age and the state of affairs then. We must not forget that Fletcher was born into one of the most confusing centuries that modern man has suffered. The whole of Europe was on the boil, in every aspect of life. This was the age of the freethinkers, of industrial development, and of revolution. Anyone who could read was familiar with the views of Voltaire and his associates; change was on every hand; the whole of life was confusing. However, more than this, as far as Fletcher was concerned, Switzerland—although pleasant enough for the rich—was far from being a land of liberty. There was considerable civic corruption, the press was known to be censored, torture was normal in the prisons, the peasants were without political rights, and it was dangerous to speak one’s mind openly. Many of Fletcher’s contemporaries moved out of their own country in search of personal freedom. It was natural for him to be affected by the spirit of the age. In those circumstances, we must not be surprised to find someone so intent on seeking a true experience of God that any company seemed to be more congenial than that of mere professors of religion who discussed the major matters of faith without any sign of compassion.
Fletcher among the Methodists
In any case, when John Fletcher entered the ranks of Methodism, the split between Whitefield and Wesley had been “healed” long since. Although it is true that he joined the Wesleyan Methodists and not the Calvinistic Methodists, these two bodies were then enjoying a season of fraternal respect. From 1745 to 1770 there was comparative peace between the two parties, and exchanges of pulpits by them were commonplace; John Fletcher was as much influenced by Whitefield as by the Wesley brothers, and was never ashamed to say so. He soon became acquainted with all the leading evangelicals up and down the country, including the Countess of Huntingdon, and was as much in the company of Calvinists as Arminians. It would be foolish to say that this was the beginning of Fletcher’s mistakes in the realm of doctrine, or to suggest that he was guilty of loose thinking so far. His simple logic (which always seemed to be so important to him) may have been misplaced through zeal, but it would be unwise to say more, at this point.
What we can ask now, however, is this: Why did he take sides with the Arminian branch of the Methodist movement, and why did he remain an Arminian all of his life considering that he was so great a Bible student and so intimate with God in prayer? If the Calvinistic system of theology is the true one, how is it that so godly a man can miss the way? How can anyone who was so familiar with the Holy Scriptures, and with the writings of Calvin, Luther, Flavel, Owen, Bunyan, and Henry be so misled? Is the answer that he thought that he knew more than these famous divines? Did he consider himself in a class above these other godly men? We must ask such questions, if we are to understand this interesting man. One reason why he did not embrace the whole Calvinistic system is because he did not ever lose the early aversion that he gained concerning the estate of lost souls. Even when he reassessed this matter in the light of the teaching of the Reformers, as distinct from that of eighteenth century theologians who expounded the teaching of the Reformers, he hesitated. He was not able to visualize God as a master who bestowed favors regardless of the behavior of man.
The other major reason why Fletcher could not identify himself with the Calvinistic system was connected with Antinomianism. Rightly, or wrongly, he felt that Reformed doctrines encouraged loose thinking about holiness. His early years in Switzerland showed him that the true Church had three enemies, apart from the natural one of heresy; these were Antinomianism, Phariseeism, and Laodiceanism. He maintained that as Calvinism was taught, these three enemies of the Faith were encouraged, and not put to flight. He suggested, therefore, that Calvinistic theology should be reformed to take this defect into account, or else there would be a constant tendency away from it, by those who hold that holiness is an essential facet of scriptural salvation.
Fletcher sought to prove this point by alluding to the writings of those who had taught the Calvinistic system since the Synod of Dort. He had plenty of material to work on, since all of the sermons of Tobias Crisp had just been reprinted by those who were pleased to circulate these views. John Fletcher knew that Dr. Crisp had been a godly man who was anxious only for the glory of Christ, and he also knew that there had been a flood of literature which assessed the Crispian theories and which settled the matter in an orthodox way. However, he was faced with the fact that these sermons had been reprinted, without any alteration, and so the readers of his generation would lap up ideas which had been such a source of embarrassment to Richard Baxter in the last century. Further, he conjectured that Crispian theories were the natural outcome of a theological system which could run to this extreme, because the doctrines relating to behavior were not sufficiently guarded; the demand for the Crispian sermons was proof that many of the Calvinists of his day preferred doctrine which permitted Antinomianism. It seemed to him that the Calvinistic system needed reform if it were to uphold holiness as a biblical principle with which the new man in Christ ought to adhere.
It may be worth our time to consider, at this point, what were the salient doctrines of Tobias Crisp which Fletcher thought were a source of encouragement for Antinomianism, since they will show us the way in which Fletcher was thinking about this whole subject of holiness. The theories which most disturbed him were these: that the elect are justified in eternity for eternity; that the elect know of their acceptance with God when they gain inner assurance, regardless of their personal behavior; that there is no need to preach repentance in the heralding of the gospel; that Christ became a sinner; and that God takes pleasure in the damnation of sinners from eternity for eternity. As we have seen, John Fletcher knew that some of these views were explained and altered in the lifetime of Dr. Crisp, but that they should ever have been stated in such lucid terms, and read by ordinary people who were remote from theological controversies, forced him to the conclusion that Calvinism needed a protective fence of added teaching in regard to ethics. You will recall that Joseph Hussey died before John Fletcher came on the scene, but there were two famous hyper-Calvinists alive throughout this new Crispian controversy, namely John Gill and John Brine. Fletcher knew, from personal experience, that these two ministers lived exemplary lives and so he could not suggest that extreme Calvinism must always produce Antinomianism. In fact he did not do this, and was always most gracious in his treatment of those who took the opposite point of view, even going so far as to suggest that they graced their doctrines more than he did his own! However, he did not cease to show that doctrinal Antinomianism produced improper behavior in the lives of those who sat under this teaching, even if the expounders of such views were thoroughly godly men.
It is also worth our time to recall that John Fletcher did not enter the field of controversy without what he thought was a good reason. He did not attack any other person’s views until, on a point of honor, he was forced into the arena of public debate by the denunciation of John Wesley, in 1771. Although Fletcher had known that there were divisions in Methodism before he joined the movement, and although he was aware of tensions in some circles, he always knew that Whitefield and Wesley would produce harmony and concord if permitted to do so. When Whitefield died, however, he realized that the old wounds could be opened again easily and that the gracious George would not be there to pour oil on the situation. He determined to do all that he felt was in his power, in order to heal any forthcoming breach. It is possible that the Countess of Huntingdon encouraged him in this resolve, for she had written recently to the effect that Fletcher was one who could “maintain peace and unity in the household of God.” Be that as it may, the blow fell quickly; before the death of Whitefield could be remembered at an anniversary, the chaplains of the Countess had accused John Wesley of “dreadful heresy” because of the wording of the Methodist Conference Minutes of 1770. One gains the impression that these gentlemen expected a quick solution to the controversy and were surprised when a number of leading ministers hurried to the support of Wesley. They may have expected John Fletcher to take sides with them, for only a few months previously Wesley had censured Fletcher for associating with the Calvinistic Methodists too much, and—after all—Fletcher was the president of Trevecca College! Fletcher surprised everyone by not only taking sides with Wesley, but also by taking up his pen to defend Wesley in a spirited correspondence which lasted over four years. In his opinion, Wesley was being pilloried as quickly as was decently possible after the death of Whitefield. On the other hand, the Countess of Huntingdon was seeking to emphasize that orthodox theology was Calvinian and not Arminian. So, despite his imperfect grasp of English, Fletcher wrote a flood of letters, pamphlets, books, and tracts (most of which remain to this day) because he could not be silent when a friend was in need of support, and not because he wished to become an author, or split Methodism any further. His gracious firmness and polite logic produced a helpful apology from the Countess who “wished to retract what more deliberate consideration might have prevented, for we would as little wish to defend even truth itself presumptuously, as we would submit servilely to deny it.”
So then, we have established that John Fletcher was not willing to be labeled a Calvinist unless, and until, Calvinism was restated in terms which would put to death any apparent support for Antinomianism, Phariseeism, and Laodiceanism. It would be fair if we now glanced at the other side of the coin and asked why he felt able to be called an Arminian, since the followers of this system could not boast of being any more godly than the other party!
In actual fact, he was unhappy about the dilemma of being either one thing or the other! He felt that the way that the Synod of Dort had been organized was unfortunate since it had resulted in evangelicals taking sides either with Calvinism or Arminianism. He blamed this on the Arminians who, he wrote, “provoked the Calvinists, by refusing to clear up the doctrine of election first.” If they had not been so stubborn, he said, the Calvinists would not have been so severe and the result may have been more helpful to succeeding generations. He was of the opinion that the teaching of Arminius needed to be restated just as much as did that of Calvin—though for different reasons—and that the Synod of Dort could have accomplished this, if only there had been a gracious reasonableness on both sides. He could see that, from the point of view of the Calvinist party, the Remonstrance views were heretical, but he did not think that the Calvinists of that day were working from the correct premise. In other words, John Fletcher was an Arminian because he was not able to embrace Calvinism as it was expounded, but would have joined the Calvinistic party gladly if they had conceded some ground. They refused to do this, for reasons which were obvious to them, and so he remained an Arminian to his dying day. It is impossible to read the life story of Fletcher, however, without noticing that his theological position shifted in the direction of Calvinism slowly, but surely. It is as though he sought to prove his point, repeatedly, only to move nearer to the views of his opponents with every tussle. Clearly, his friendship with such notable men as Howel Harris, Henry Venn, William Williams, John Newton, and George Whitefield brought him to see that Calvinists need not be so dry and lifeless as those he had known earlier in Switzerland. His Arminianism was a reaction to what he called Phariseeism, Antinomianism, and Laodiceanism, and may well have never come to much if he had been reared in an evangelical environment.
However, despite his Arminianism, John Fletcher became increasingly anxious about certain tendencies in the Arminian wing of the Church of England. For example, as he wrote to Walter Shirley, some Arminians had an unbiblical view of the Fall of Man. As far as he was concerned, the total depravity of man is “the leading principle of Christianity.” He wrote that “if you take away the doctrine of the Fall, the tower of truth which was built by Jesus Christ is no longer founded upon a rock; the stately fabric collapses instantly and leaves behind nothing more than dry morality.” Fletcher could not conceive of any system of theology neglecting this important theme, and was so concerned about the matter that he preached on this subject every Sunday morning for several months, and then had the sermons printed and bound into an eighty-six-page booklet, which he distributed to every one of his parishioners. In this booklet, he proved to his readers, by the use of thirty-six arguments, multitudinous biblical quotations, repeated references to the Thirty-nine Articles, and many snippets from the Homilies, that they were absolutely depraved and thoroughly lost! Also, he was unhappy with some so-called Arminian movements in the century which appeared to ignore the need for experimental religion and gave too much place to faith in the matter of regeneration. So, it will be seen that John Fletcher did not consider Arminianism to be a fool-proof substitute for Calvinism, and was not altogether happy about being called an Arminian. However, if one must be in either one camp or the other, then he would be in the camp of Arminius. And, certainly, by virtue of his opinions concerning predestination, this was the only possibility open to him!
Fletcher’s Views on Holiness
We now come to the main subject before us, and consider his views about holiness in the life of a believer. We have seen that he had sensitive views about the nature of God, from very early years. He spoke to people about their need to live moral lives from the time that he could form words into sentences. Also, we have seen that he practiced what he preached, and that it was the testimony of countless believers of his generation that if any man came close to the highest standard of holiness, then John Fletcher did. If his attacks on Antinomianism had not been backed up by the sheer godliness of the man, his words would have died a speedy death and would have had no value after he had passed from earthly view. All that he said was borne out by his life, however, and this did much to add value to his exhortations and pamphlets.
Fletcher held the opinion that there is a principle plainly stated in the Bible concerning God’s intentions about the holiness of His children. He traced this principle through the Old Testament and also through the New Testament. Not only did God say that Israel should be a holy nation, but He said that individual believers should be holy and without blemish before Him. Not only could Fletcher see a clear biblical principle, but he considered that the Holy Scriptures have commanded God’s children to be holy, in every generation. So far, very few will disagree with Fletcher, because even if we do not like his theology, as long as we have faith in complete holiness through imputation, we will see no great heresy thus far. The division came when Fletcher expounded what he meant by “holiness” and when he described the “means” whereby man achieves this virtuous state. Many found his exhortations an embarrassment, and some thought that he carried his point too far, but none who knew his Owen dared to disagree on the need for holiness, since that great writer had earlier said that “not only does God require holiness indispensibly in all believers, but this is all that He requires of them, or expects from them; for it comprises the whole duty of man.”
However, before we come to the description which he gave of essential holiness, we will examine the four reasons why he believed that this is so important. First of all, he thought that holiness is the outer proof of one’s inner salvation—it is the only reliable evidence of a claimed experience. He felt that the following verses were ample proof of this: Matthew 7:16–18; Galatians 5:24; James 2:18; and 1 John 3:3. Second, he thought that personal holiness is the scriptural way by which we show Christ that we love Him. Whereas he could have said that we prove our love for Christ by evangelizing—to some effect—he said that holiness does this, and felt that the following Johannine verses upheld his opinion: John 16:15, 21, and 23; 1 John 5:3; 2 John 6. Then, Fletcher felt that personal holiness is the most effective way of influencing the unconverted, or—at any rate—a lack of personal holiness is an excellent way of keeping needy souls from Christ. He did not find it easy to prove this point from biblical references, but reasoned that Matthew 5:16 and 1 Peter 3:1–2 confirmed the matter. Finally, he thought that holiness is the biblical way by which a man is made ready for heaven and a meeting with the Lord. He quoted many verses to substantiate this view, including: Matthew 5:8; Galatians 5:19–20; Ephesians 5:5; Hebrews 12:14; and Revelation 21:27.
What is holiness, in the words of Fletcher? Is it a mighty experience, with instantaneous virtues, or is it a gradual process which commences at the time of regeneration and progresses throughout the life of the believer? He thought in terms of scriptural expressions, and so he described a holy man as being one who is fully grown, transformed, unblameable, obedient, sanctified, filled unto the fullness of God, and walking worthily of the Lord unto all pleasing. According to John Fletcher’s own life story, and personal experience, the heights of holiness are not reached in a blinding moment (though he would not say that this could not happen if God chose so to do), but as a result of a pilgrimage, during the course of which the believer denies himself daily, shuns sin, puts off the old man, fears the Lord, obeys God’s Word, puts on the new man, sets his mind on heavenly things, and with all humility and soberness of mind, follows after holiness. It would be wrong to picture Fletcher as the founder of a holiness movement which reduced godliness to an instantaneous experience received by a single act of faith, especially since John Wesley started to preach Christian perfection nearly twenty years before Fletcher was converted. All the facts point to his seeing personal holiness as the outworking of the power of God in a human life which has responded to the commands of Christ readily, and not as an instantaneous experience.
If we study Fletcher’s life, we come to the conclusion that a holy man does not claim that he is no longer a sinner; he is more aware of being a sinner than ever before, but (because of the new characteristic, which owes its origin to regeneration) he is not at peace with his sinful nature. He knows that he is not better than the meanest sinner, and gives others the impression that he is only too aware of it. In 1776, we have a glimpse of his inner struggles (despite his disputations upon the problems of Romans 7) in a letter containing these words: “There are three sorts of people I must attack continually, the Gallios, the Pharisees, and the Antinomians. I do not forget, however, that the Gallio, the Simon, and the Nicholas within, are far more dangerous to me than those outside. In my own heart, that immense field, I must first fight the Lord’s battles and my own.” Fletcher was too fond of the phrase “grow in Grace” to be a defender of instantaneous holiness, and for this reason found the term “sinless perfection” nauseating.
Let us consider now the means used by Fletcher to promote holiness in his own life, and then the advice which he gave to others. The means used can be separated into four parts, even though the first three ought to be one only, since they have to do with the Trinity. The experience of sanctification for Fletcher was a work of the combined Trinity, and in his view personal holiness is the outcome of this divine work in one’s life, to which had been added (by the grace of God) the believer’s works of obedience.
The work of the Father included not only the general dispensation of grace and providential care, but also the chastisement of Fletcher; this shows most clearly during his long illness, and in the account of his death. The work of the Holy Spirit involved not only the revealing of truth, the inculcation of moral attitudes, and the bearing of the spiritual fruit, but also the energizing of Fletcher; he spoke often of this last factor and urged believers not to neglect this (he thought in terms of outpourings of the Holy Spirit inwardly as well as outwardly). The work of the Lord Jesus Christ consisted of a High Priestly ministry together with the influence of example through intimate union with Fletcher; he referred constantly to the intimate moments which he spent with Christ, in prayer, and of the benefit he gained from such seasons of communion. The fourth means was his own daily ready obedience toward the commands of God’s Word, as he read, waited upon God, and worshipped with the people of God. In other words, for Fletcher, holiness was the result of seeking Christ by the help of the Holy Spirit, doing what Christ asked of him, and trusting Christ to accomplish the impossible in him.
Although a Calvinist may find some of this description disagreeable, he will know that (in general terms) there is considerable truth here. Doubtless this is because Fletcher fed upon the Puritans and leaned heavily upon such writers as Leighton, Henry, Bunyan, Hopkins, Owen, and Flavel in his efforts to appreciate the lengths and breadths of personal godliness. His view of the influences of the grace of God and providence in the life of a believer were wholly Calvinistic; his views on the effect which divine chastisement makes seem to be identical to those of Flavel; his insistence that the Holy Spirit should not be ignored, in the realm of holiness, was matched by none other than John Owen. If a Calvinist wishes to find fault with his views on the need for union with Christ, on the grounds of extremism, it should be remembered that the saintly Robert M. McCheyne said, “Wherever you go, make it manifest that your holiness comes from union with Christ.” There is little doubt that Fletcher’s views on the subject of perseverance were not wholly Calvinistic, because of his idea that a believer’s works contributed to his eternal security. However, his views of “fighting the good fight of faith” were not far removed from those of J. C. Ryle.
We may assume, therefore, without much anxiety, that John Fletcher’s godliness (which is the feature of him that outlives his influential writings) was a biblical godliness, and not simply the sum total of good breeding, stoicism, mock-humility, and mysticism. In fact, we can thank God for his godliness (as many Calvinists did do then) since it stems, so obviously, from his Calvinian approach to this particular subject.
The problem, for Calvinists, comes when one studies Fletcher’s writings on the subject of holiness, for he took two steps which cut across Reformed thinking. The first of these was a doctrine which he called “Second Justification by Works,” and the second was his support of John Wesley in the use of the term Christian Perfection. Fletcher’s doctrine of a second justification was not a resurrected Pelagianism, nor a denunciation of the orthodox doctrines relating to salvation; it was an attempt to stalemate the effects of deadness, formalism, and fanaticism in religion. The best criticism of this would be that Fletcher allowed his extensive powers of reason to make over-much use of such texts as 1 Timothy 6:19 and Romans 2:6–7. His zeal for the honor of God, in the face of confusion and heresy, made him forget that our status with God depends on the work of Christ alone, and not—in any way—on our ethical achievements. As Professor John Murray has put it, “The attainment of the goal is not on the meritorious ground of perseverance, but through the divinely appointed means of perseverance.” If one should ask why so godly a man, who was so well-read, was able to make such a mistake, we can only answer that (when it came to the final analysis) he was not a Calvinist! On the other hand, if anyone is seeking to maintain Arminianism in a state of zeal—both for God and for good works—then Fletcher’s doctrine of a Second Justification is the logical tool to use!
However, the second step which he took has given John Fletcher a bad name with Calvinists ever since; he published a book on the subject of perfection, in support of Wesley’s doctrine on that subject. Even if he only did this at the request of Wesley, in order to correct and amplify Wesley’s teaching (which we must admit that he did do), it is still regretable that this book was written. It is possible that he would not have launched out into print on this subject if he had not desired to answer the publications of some who were opposed to perfection, but the reason behind it all is far from clear. We can bemoan this book, however, on several grounds: for one thing, the use of the word perfect (even if—as he pointed out—it occurs more often in the Bible than predestine) must make for trouble, if it is used in connection with human holiness. For him to press the use of this word was the same as to divide the evangelicals of his century still further. For another thing, no matter how you view the Wesleyan doctrine of perfection, and regardless of the zeal with which you propagate it, there must be problems. As Samuel Chadwick (no foe of holiness) later put it: “There is certainly some ambiguity in Wesley’s teaching.” But, worse that this, Fletcher could only confuse people by preaching not only justification, in the way that he did, but also perfection after the fashion of Wesley, and a second justification by works as well! The three things could not go hand in hand, as we can prove from his own letters, in one of which he wrote: “Meritorious, justifying righteousness is finished and brought in, and your works can no more add to it than your sins can diminish from it.”
Perhaps, the main reason why we should be sad about the publication of his treatise on perfection is as follows: Fletcher was first and foremost a preacher, and not a writer. When he stood up to give a discourse, it was as if an apostle had returned; he enjoyed an obvious divine unction which none could deny. When he sat down to write he relied on his vast reading (“I have consulted many masters”) and simple logic. This impressed even his opponents and confounded his atheistic parishioners, but it has left us with a dilemma. As one of his best friends put it: “I would rather have heard one sermon from Mr. Fletcher, than read a volume of his works. His words were clothed with power, and entered with effect. His writings are arrayed in all the garb of human literature, but his living word soared on eagles’ flight above humanity. His writings, though enlightened, are but human; his preaching was apostolic.”
This does not mean that we must come to the conclusion that John Fletcher was a confused zealot who was guilty of loose thinking; it means that he was not a Calvinist! He began from the wrong basis, having been distracted from orthodoxy by so-called Calvinists who presented a living faith in the deadest of ways. However, just because John Fletcher felt that he could not embrace the whole Calvinian system does not mean that he should be despised or ignored. He has much to offer in any Arminian/Calvinistic controversy and must ever be remembered as one of Arminianism’s brightest stars.
In any assessment of Fletcher these points should not be overlooked: first, he had experienced what might be called “dead Calvinism,” but he did not live long enough to experience “dry Arminianism.” If he had done, he would have learned that although Calvinism without experimental religion becomes Phariseeism, his own doctrine of a Second Justification by Works, for Arminians, also produces Phariseeism, if it is unaccompanied by experimental religion! Secondly, John Fletcher was born into the most philosophical reformed country of his century; he was the kind of man, with suitable natural abilities, whom God might have used more extensively in Switzerland, if he had not run away from the stifling religious culture. Was he a chosen vessel for the reviving of his homeland, and is that why his ministry was so remarkably blessed whenever he went there? If so, it is tragic that he was allowed to react in the way that he did; he might have been one of Calvinism’s noblest sons. However, whatever the truth of the matter, John Fletcher upheld the biblical principle of holiness in his personal life and sought to uphold it in general. If Arminianism can produce such godliness, what hopes are there for us!2