KG, Göttingen
ISBN Print: 9783525569450 — ISBN E-Book: 9783647569451
Reformed Historical Theology
Edited by
Herman J. Selderhuis
in co-operation with
Emidio Campi, Irene Dingel, Wim Janse,
Elsie McKee, Richard Muller
Volume 17
Edited by
Michael A.G. Haykin and Mark Jones
ISBN 978-3-525-56945-0
ISBN 978-3-647-56945-1 (E-Book)
Preface..........................................................................................................10
RICHARD A. MULLER
1. Diversity in the Reformed Tradition:
A Historiographical Introduction...........................................................11
1.1 Introduction: Tradition, Diversity, and the Interpretation
of Reformed Thought..................................................................11
1.2 Debate Within the Reformed Tradition ...........................................17
1.3 Debates Concerning Confessional Boundaries –
Crossing Over or Pressing the Boundary....................................18
1.4 Debates Over Philosophical Issues ..................................................22
1.5 Debates Concerning Issues of Significant Import
that Threatened to Rise to a Confessional Level ........................23
1.6 Debates over Theological Topics that did not Press
on Confessional Boundaries........................................................25
1.7 Concluding Comment ......................................................................29
ALAN D. STRANGE
2. The Imputation of the Active Obedience of Christ
at the Westminster Assembly.................................................................31
2.1 Introduction......................................................................................31
2.2 Historiography .................................................................................32
2.3 Recent Evidence...............................................................................35
2.4 Article 11 of the Thirty-Nine Articles .............................................36
2.5 The Problem of Antinomianism.......................................................38
2.6 Vines, Gataker, and Twisse .............................................................39
2.7 The Wider Context of the Westminster Assembly ..........................46
2.8 Conclusion .......................................................................................50
HUNTER POWELL
3. October 1643: The Dissenting Brethren
and the Proton Dektikon ....................................................................... 52
Hunter Powell ....................................................................................... 52
3.1 Introduction ..................................................................................... 52
3.2 “The builders must have a platform” .............................................. 56
3.3 “We are now on the foundation of all” ........................................... 60
3.4 πετρος τη πετρα, The Grand Charter of the Church ....................... 64
3.5 The Apologists’ Proton Dektikon ................................................... 67
3.6 Ecclesiae Primae and Ecclesiae Ortae: “an untrodden path”......... 71
3.7 A break from “the fathers & the schoolmen” ................................. 79
3.8 Conclusion ...................................................................................... 82
CRAWFORD GRIBBEN
4. Millennialism .......................................................................................... 83
4.1 Introduction ..................................................................................... 83
4.2 The Tradition Established ............................................................... 85
4.3 The Tradition Challenged ............................................................... 92
4.4 Conclusion ...................................................................................... 97
J.V. FESKO
5. Lapsarian Diversity at the Synod of Dort ............................................... 99
5.1 Introduction ..................................................................................... 99
5.2 The Debate over Infra- and Supralapsarianism............................. 102
5.3 The Supralapsarian Position.......................................................... 107
5.4 The Infralapsarian Position ........................................................... 111
5.5 The Lapsarian Outcome of the Canons......................................... 114
5.6 Analysis of the Outcome............................................................... 117
5.7 The Maccovius Case ..................................................................... 119
5.8 Was Supralapsarianism Rejected? ................................................ 120
5.9 Why no Rejection of Supralapsarianism? ..................................... 121
5.10 Summary ..................................................................................... 122
5.11 Conclusion .................................................................................. 123
MARK A. HERZER
7. Adam’s Reward: Heaven or Earth? .................................................... 162
7.1 Introduction ................................................................................... 162
7.2 Thomas Goodwin (1600–1680) .................................................... 165
7.3 Francis Turretin (1623–1687) ....................................................... 169
7.4 Examining Their Positions............................................................ 171
7.5 Seventeenth-Century Divines and Adam’s Reward...................... 175
7.6 Conclusion .................................................................................... 181
MARK JONES
8. The “Old” Covenant.............................................................................. 183
8.1 Introduction ................................................................................... 183
8.2 Taxonomies................................................................................... 187
8.3 The Majority Position: “Dichotomist” .......................................... 189
8.4 Foedus Subserviens: “Trichotomist” ............................................ 194
8.5 John Owen: Dichotomist or Trichotomist? ................................... 199
CARL R. TRUEMAN
9. The Necessity of the Atonement ........................................................... 204
9.1 Introduction ................................................................................... 204
9.2 Owen’s Early Position .................................................................. 206
9.3 The Argument of the Dissertation................................................. 209
9.4 The Evidence for Essential Vindicatory Justice ........................... 213
9.5 Revelation and the Doctrine of God ............................................. 217
9.6 Conclusion .................................................................................... 221
ROBERT J. MCKELVEY
10. “That Error and Pillar of Antinomianism”:
Eternal Justification............................................................................. 223
10.1 Introduction ................................................................................. 223
10.2 The Antinomian Endorsement .................................................... 226
10.3 The Westminster Resistance ....................................................... 237
10.4 The Anti-Arminian Foundations ................................................. 246
10.5 The Anti-Antinomian Connections ............................................. 255
10.6 Conclusion .................................................................................. 259
JOEL R. BEEKE
11. The Assurance Debate: Six Key Questions ........................................ 263
11.1 Introduction ................................................................................. 263
11.2 Is the Seed of Assurance Embedded in Faith? ............................ 265
11.3 Is Faith a Condition of the Covenant? ........................................ 267
11.4 Is Assurance Primarily Grounded in God’s Promises?............... 270
11.5 How Important is Syllogistic Reasoning for Validating
Inward Evidences of Grace? .................................................... 273
11.6 Does the Inward Witness of the Holy Spirit Coincide
with the Inward Evidences of Grace? ...................................... 276
11.7 Is Assurance Normative? ............................................................ 281
11.8 Conclusion .................................................................................. 283
Bibliography.............................................................................................. 309
Index.......................................................................................................... 334
This project began as an idea a few years ago when I (Mark Jones) sat down
with my then Ph.D supervisor, Michael Haykin, and discussed with him the
idea of a book that looks at the various theological debates that took place
between Reformed theologians in the context of British Puritanism. Since
that time we sought to find authors with expertise in Puritan theology that
would be able to write on the debates covered in this book. We are grateful
for their co-operation in making this project a reality.1 We are also grateful
to the staff, especially Jörg Persch and Christoph Spill, at Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht for their help in bringing this book to the press. We are also very
thankful to Herman Selderhuis and the RHT series editors for accepting this
book into this fine series.
This book does not look at every debate that took place among Puritan
theologians, but it does give a fairly comprehensive overview of some of
the most significant debates that took place in Britain during the seven-
teenth century among Reformed theologians who agreed on more points of
theology than they disagreed. Richard Muller’s chapter shows that this type
of project provides a helpful companion to the literature in recent years that
has questioned the old historiography put forth in terms of “Calvin against
the Calvinists”.
While it is customary to offer thanks to those who have helped make a
book a reality, I (Michael Haykin) would also like to stress that in doing so,
I am not doing this in any sort of perfunctory manner. I am deeply thankful
for the help afforded me by my assistant at the Andrew Fuller Center for
Baptist Studies at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Revd. Steve
Weaver. Finally, I would like to thank my dear wife Alison for her patience
and ongoing support in all of my academic pursuits, and especially in the
editing of this book.
I (Mark Jones) want to thank the members at Faith Vancouver Presbyte-
rian Church for encouraging (enduring?) me in my academic pursuits as
their minister. It is also an honor to have edited this book with Michael
Haykin, a person and scholar from whom I have learned much. Finally, and
most importantly, I thank my wife Barbara for her continued support in all
areas of my life.
—————
1
The title for this book, “Drawn into Controversie” comes from John Crandon’s Epistle dedi-
catory to Mr. Baxter’s Aphorisms Exorized and Anthorized (London, 1654).
Richard A. Muller
—————
2
See David C. Steinmetz, “Luther and the Late Medieval Augustinians: Another Look,” Con-
cordia Theological Monthly, 44 (1973), 245–260.
—————
ing, 1996). It must, incidentally be questioned as to whether such terms as “limited” and “universal
atonement” can ever do justice to an early modern discussion and debate that did not use this
language but instead had recourse to questions of the sufficiency and efficiency of Christ’s satis-
faction.
6
Thus, Brian G. Armstrong, “Semper Reformanda: The Case of the French Reformed Church,
1559–1620,” in Later Calvinism: International Perspectives, ed. W. Fred Graham (Kirksville:
Sixteenth Century Journal Publishers, 1994), 119–140.
7
Note, in particular, Jürgen Moltmann, “Zur Bedeutung des Petrus Ramus für Philosophie
und Theologie im Calvinismus,” Zeitschrift für Kirchengeschichte, 68 (1957), 295–318.
8
James B. Torrance, “Calvin and Puritanism in England and Scotland – Some Basic Concepts
in the Development of ‘Federal Theology,’” in Calvinus Reformator (Potchefstroom:
Potchefstroom University for Christian Higher Education, 1982), 264–277; idem, “The Concept of
Federal Theology – Was Calvin a Federal Theologian?” in Calvinus Sacrae Scripturae Professor,
edited by Wilhelm H. Neuser (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1994), 15–40; and Holmes Rolston III,
John Calvin versus the Westminster Confession (Richmond: John Knox, 1972). On the other side
of the argument, see Peter Alan Lillback, The Binding of God: Calvin’s Role in the Development
of Covenant Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 2001).
—————
9
J. Wayne Baker, Heinrich Bullinger and the Covenant: The Other Reformed Tradition (Ath-
ens, Ohio, 1980); and idem, “Heinrich Bullinger, the Covenant, and the Reformed Tradition in
Retrospect,” Sixteenth Century Journal, 29, no.2 (1998), 359–376; note the contrary argument in
Lyle D. Bierma, “Federal Theology in the Sixteenth Century: Two Traditions?” Westminster
Theological Journal, 45 (1983), 304–321.
10
As has been admirably shown, this third pattern of argument has little or no basis in early
modern documents: see Lyle D. Bierma, German Calvinism in the Confessional Age: The Cove-
nant Theology of Caspar Olevian (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1996), 24–25, 162–168;
idem, “The Role of Covenant Theology in Early Reformed Orthodoxy,” Sixteenth Century Jour-
nal, 21, no.3 (1990), 457–459; cf. Willem J. van Asselt, The Federal Theology of Johannes Coc-
ceius (1603–1669), trans. Raymond A. Blacketer (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2001), 75.
11
So Hall, “Calvin against the Calvinists,” 24–28; and Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut
Heresy, 36-42; and recently, with reference to union with Christ, Charles Partee, The Theology of
John Calvin (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2008), 3, 4, 25, 27.
12
E.g., Torrance, “The Concept of Federal Theology,” 15–40.
13
Thus, Baker, Heinrich Bullinger and the Covenant, 199–215.
14
Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, “Prädestination und Heilsgeschichte bei Moyse Amyraut,” Zeitschrift
für Kirchengeschichte, 65 (1953/54), 281; with Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy,
32–33, 37–42, 55–56.
—————
15
Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy, 41–42, 137; cf. R. T. Kendall, Calvin and
English Calvinism to 1649 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1979), 13–18, 31–32, 57–58; sum-
marized in idem, “The Puritan Modification of Calvin’s Theology” in John Calvin: His Influence
in the Western World, ed. W. Stanford Reid (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982), 197–214.
16
Thus, Hall, “Calvin against the Calvinists,” 25, 28; Toon, Emergence of Hyper-Calvinism,
11–13.
17
See Baker, Heinrich Bullinger and the Covenant, 214.
Leaving aside the first category, the debates with other confessionalities, as
not belonging to the scope of the present study and concentrating specifi-
cally on debates within the Reformed tradition, some comment is necessary
concerning the difference between the second and third kinds of debate –
namely those identifying transgressions of confessional boundaries and
those remaining withing the confessional limits – given the way in which
such differences were typically glossed over in the older scholarship, par-
ticularly when the debates were analyzed in terms of the “Calvin against the
Calvinists” paradigm. The late sixteenth- and early seventeenth-century
debates over universalistic and synergistic soteriologies, notably those over
Huber’s and Arminius’ understandings of grace and predestination arose
over the thought of theologians who were Reformed in terms of their eccle-
sial or confessional location but whose thought contradicted basic state-
ments of the Reformed confessions, rendering these debates rather different
from the debates over Amyraut’s theology, given that not only was
Amyraut Reformed in ecclesial and confessional location but his theology
also arguably fell within the boundaries established by the Gallican Confes-
sion and the Canons of Dort. Huber’s and Arminius’ theologies did not fall
within the boundaries established by such confessional documents as the
Second Helvetic Confession, the Belgic Confession, and the Heidelberg
Catechism.18
—————
18
Note the rather tendentious efforts to identify Arminius’ theology as Reformed prior to the
definitions of Dort in G.J. Hoenderdaal, “De Kekordelijke Kant van de Dordtse Synode,” Neder-
lands Theologisch Tijdschrift, 25, no.5 (1969), 349–363; and Carl Bangs, “Arminius as a Re-
—————
26
Note Sung Ho Lee, “All Subjects of the Kingdom of Christ: John Owens’ conceptions of
Christian Unity and Schism” (Ph.D. dissertation: Calvin Theological Seminary, 2007); and Sang
Hyuk Ahn, “Covenant and Conflict: the Controversy over the Church Covenant between Samuel
Rutherford and Thomas Hooker’ (Ph.D. dissertation: Calvin Theological Seminary 2011).
27
Articuli XLII. Eduardi VI, art. 40, in Niemeyer, Collectio, 600; Second Helvetic Confession
11.14; cf. the Augsburg Confession, art. 17.
This category of debate does not appear as a separate topic in the present
volume, but it nonetheless deserves some notice given both the caricatures
of Reformed scholasticism and its philosophical backgrounds found in the
older scholarship and the rather diverse and variegated picture of Reformed
approaches to philosophy that emerges when the documents are actually
studied. Often dismissed as holding rigidly to a moribund and discredited
Aristotelianism, the Reformed orthodox thinkers of the seventeenth century
expressed a series of significant concerns over impact of the new rational-
isms on fundamental understandings in logic, physics, and metaphysics and,
by extension, on theological formulation, while at the same time developing
and modifying their own approaches to the formulation and use of philoso-
phy.
The Reformed encountered, debated, and adapted various of the patterns
of metaphysical and physical argumentation that arose in the broader de-
bates of the early modern era. Thus, for example, toward the beginning of
the seventeenth century, perhaps generated by Suarez’ influential work on
metaphysics, with its stress on the univocity of being, Reformed theologi-
ans and philosophers debated the question of whether or not God could be
discussed in metaphysics – with some arguing that God, considered as
infinite being, could be a subject of metaphysics and others restricting the
topics of metaphysics to being in general, excluding God from discussion.30
As the seventeenth century progressed, various Reformed writers combated
—————
28
Cf. Wilhelmus à Brakel, LOGIKH LATREIA, dat is Redelijke Godsdienst in welken de god-
delijke Waarheden van het Genade-Verbond worden verklaard [...] alsmede de Bedeeling des
Verbonds in het O. en N.T. en de Ontmoeting der Kerk in het N. T. vertoond in eene Verklaring
van de Openbaringen aan Johannes, 3 parts (Den Haag: Cornelis van Duyck, 1701), III.xx.1–27;
with Turretin, Institutio theologiae elencticae, XX.iii.1–22.
29
Turretin, Institutio theologicae elencticae, XX.iii1–4.
30
See the discussion in Richard A. Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise
and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725, 4 vol. (Grand Rapids: Baker,
2003), III, 167–170.
These are debates that fall within the bounds of the major Reformed confes-
sions and that, in some cases were debated in the process of framing con-
fessions – notably the lapsarian and hypothetical universalist questions at
Dort and the hypothetical universalist issue at the Westminster Assembly –
—————
31
See the essays in Paul Dibon, ed., Pierre Bayle, le philosophe de Rotterdam (Amsterdam:
Elsevir, 1959); and Wiep van Bunge and Hans Bot, ed., Pierre Bayle (1647–1706), le philosophe
de Rotterdam; philosophy, religion, and reception (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2008).
32
E.g., Theo Verbeek, Descartes and the Dutch: Early Reactions to Cartesianism (1637–
1650) (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1992); idem, “Descartes and the Problem of
Atheism: the Utrecht Crisis,” Nederlands Archief voor Kerkgeschiedenis, 71, no.2 (1991), 211–
223; J.A. (Han) van Ruler, The Crisis of Causality: Voetius and Descartes on God, Nature, and
Change (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1995).
33
J. A. (Han) van Ruler, “Franco Petri Burgersdijk and the Case of Calvinism Within the
Neo-Scholastic Tradition,” in Egbert P. Bos and H. A. Krop, ed., Franco Burgersdijk (1590–
1635): Neo-Aristotelianism in Leiden (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1993), 37–55; idem, “Burgersdijk and
Heereboord on the Question of Divine Concurrence,” in ibid., 56–65.
34
Aza Goudriaan, Reformed Orthodoxy and Philosophy, 1625–1750: Gisbertus Voetius,
Petrus van Mastricht, and Anthonius Driessen (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2006).
but which did not rise to the level of causing further confessional formula-
tion. Typically, these debates reflect issues in seventeenth-century Re-
formed thought that were not debated or defined by the Reformers. They
also manifest a kind of diversity and variety of formulation not suitably
acknowledged in the older scholarship on Reformed orthodoxy. Included
here is one debate (concerning Adam’s reward) that did result in the disap-
probation of the Formula Consensus Helvetica, but that was not confes-
sionally defined or delimited in England, where the Formula had no author-
ity.
John Fesko’s analysis of lapsarian debates at the Synod of Dort works
through the arguments of Franciscus Gomarus on the supralapsarian side
with the various definitions and supportive arguments presented by infra-
lapsarians at the Synod, including the British delegation and, in so doing,
underlines the theme of the volume, namely the diversity of the Reformed
tradition. With the infralapsarians in a clear majority, the Synod not surpris-
ingly formulated its final set of canons to include an infralapsarian defini-
tion. Fesko turns to the question of the character of the orthodoxy framed
by the synod: does the infralapsarian formula render a supralapsarian defi-
nition heterodox? Significantly, this was not the conclusion drawn by the
Synod. In the case of charges brought to the Synod against the supralapsar-
ian views of Johannes Maccovius, the synodical verdict indicated the ortho-
doxy of his views, albeit accompanied by admonitions against excessive
speculation. In Fesko’s view, the underlying issue was the problem of di-
vine authorship of sin – denied alike by infra- and supralapsarian – and the
interest of the Synod in arriving at a formula that would make clear the
Reformed position. The Canons of Dort, therefore, reflect both an attempt
to arrive at a majority formulation and a willingness to allow for breadth
and diversity of theological opinion among the Reformed.
Jonathan Moore’s essay carries forward the issue of hypothetical univer-
salism, firmly establishing by way of an examination primarily of John
Owen’s and John Davenant’s thought that there was a significant develop-
ment of non-Amyraldian hypothetical universalism in English Reformed
orthodoxy that continued through the era of the Westminster Confession.
There is, moreover, good reason to place this branch of the debate over
hypothetical universalism in this rather than in our third category, given that
it did not rise to the confessional level of the Amyraldian debates – receiv-
ing neither synodical reprimand nor explicit confessional disapproval.
Moore’s careful examination of the text of the Westminster Confession
confirms his analysis over against those who would either read the confes-
sion as containing an unequivocal exclusion of hypothetical universalism or
who would attempt to view all hypothetical universalists as Amyraldian,
including those present at Westminster.
form of theological inclusiveness, while the later synods, beset with debates
over Piscator, Amyraut, and Testard and guided toward rigid formulation
by scholastic methodology, rejected “continuing reformation”.38 The lan-
guage of ecclesia Reformata, semper reformanda comes from later seven-
teenth-century developments in the Dutch Nadere Reformatie, which was
profoundly connected with the scholastic orthodoxy of Dutch university
theology, most notably that of Utrecht. More importantly, however, the
process of confessional revision that took place in the French synods of the
late sixteenth and early seventeenth century, like the process of revision of
the Belgic Confession in the Dutch synods of the era documents the attempt
of synods, particularly when faced with cases of variant theological formu-
lation, to clarify the nature of the Reformed faith, to include what was
viewed as acceptable, to exclude what was not, on a case by case basis.
What is more, the history of the French Synods in the seventeenth century
hardly evidences either an early inclusiveness or increasing rigidity. The
revisions stand not as attempts to broaden the Reformed faith but as clarifi-
cations of positions. Nor does later synodical behavior indicate a reversal:
in the cases of Amyraut and Testard, the synodical decisions tended away
from the production of new and more explicit confessional statements to-
ward admonitions and demands that controversy cease and that controver-
sial works not be published.
The essays in the present volume document rather convincingly the di-
versity of the tradition and the large number of debates that took place
within the tradition without yielding increasingly detailed confessional
statements. The importance of this diversity to the understanding, indeed,
the reassessment of Reformed orthodoxy rests on several issues: first, the
presence of such a variety of debates within the tradition sets aside the
rather standard claims of the older scholarship concerning “rigid ortho-
doxy”. Second, it offers evidence of a tradition that was both varied in its
sources and backgrounds and actively involved in formulating theology in
new and varied contexts. Third, it offers an approach to analyzing the Re-
formed thought of the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries categorically
different from the rather barren dogmatic game of one-for-one comparisons
between a thinker from the era of orthodoxy and John Calvin. Instead of the
one-for-one comparison it offers a more historically-grounded examination
of Reformed orthodoxy that looks to context and situation of an individual
thinker’s contribution to a debate for explanation rather than to a general-
ized “ism” like “Christocentrism” or “scholasticism or “Aristotelianism.”
The emphasis of the present volume on concerted examination of the diver-
sity of the tradition, therefore, also marks out a salutary path to future re-
search in the field.
—————
38
Armstrong, “Semper Reformanda,” 119, 136–138.
Alan D. Strange
2.1 Introduction
Those who affirm the imputation of the active obedience of Christ (hereaf-
ter, IAOC) in the doctrine of justification by faith, and those who deny it,
have in recent years vigorously debated the issue. No small part of the de-
bate has been about the role of the Westminster Assembly of Divines and
the documents produced by that body. Several sources have historically
averred that the Assembly did not affirm the IAOC, and more recent
sources have repeated that assertion. Others, however, have argued that,
while the Divines in what they finally adopted, may never have explicitly
affirmed the IAOC, nonetheless, the Westminster documents, taken as a
whole, tend to affirm the IAOC.1 It may be thought that little remains to add
to this discussion. It is my contention, however, that a few lacunae remain
that, when examined, will fill in the picture and permit us to see more
clearly that the Westminster Assembly, when it specifically addressed the
issue of the IAOC, affirmed it, and though the final language may not have
reflected it as do some other formulations (such as the Savoy Declaration of
1658), the documents of the Assembly do reflect a two-covenant structure
that affirms (indeed, arguably, that entails and requires) the IAOC. Moreo-
ver that the Assembly was not a ruling body of the church but was rather
constituted to give advice to the Parliament materially affected how it did
its work, consideration of which is relevant in a variety of controversies,
including the question of whether or not the Assembly affirmed the IAOC.2
—————
1
Jeffrey Jue argues this position well in “The Active Obedience of Christ and the Theology of
the Westminster Standards: A Historical Investigation,” in Justified in Christ: God’s Plan for Us
in Justification, K. Scott Oliphint, ed. (Great Britain: Mentor, 2007), 99–130. The assertion that
the Westminster Standards tend to affirm the IAOC is also made in Justification: Report of the
Committee [of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church] to Study the Doctrine of Justification (Willow
Grove, PA: The Committee on Christian Education of the OPC, 2007), 144–45.
2
Two works are particularly helpful in understanding the nature of the Westminster Assembly
as a body erected to give doctrinal and ecclesiastical advice to the British Parliament: Robert S.
Paul, The Assembly of the Lord: Politics and Religion in the Westminster Assembly and the ‘Grand
2.2 Historiography
The allegation that the Westminster Confession of Faith (WCF), more spe-
cifically, or the Westminster Standards (including the Larger and Shorter
Catechisms) more broadly, do not teach the IAOC, or that it at least ac-
commodated those who objected to it, is of some ancient lineage. Mitchell
and Struthers treat it in their edition of the Assembly’s Minutes. They
speculate that the alleged omission of explicit language affirming the IAOC
in WCF 11 was probably to appease Thomas Gataker and others who ob-
jected to it. Mitchell and Struthers acknowledge that though most of the
divines at the Assembly “favoured the views of Ussher and Featley,” theo-
logians distinctly and vigorously supportive of the IAOC (and expressive of
such originally), those same divines were later willing to forego a clear
affirmation of IAOC and thus to “abstain from further controversy about the
matter.”3 The clear implication is that the divines were unwilling to make
the IAOC a confessional matter and that, in the end, they accommodated
those who did not affirm the IAOC.4
In his history of the Westminster Assembly, Mitchell argues along simi-
lar lines, but more fully.5 Relying chiefly on Daniel Featley’s speeches in
favor of affirming the IAOC, Mitchell correctly notes that on the vote taken
—————
Debate’ (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1985), esp. Part I, and S.W. Carruthers, The Everyday Work of
the Westminster Assembly, J. Ligon Duncan, III, ed. (rpt. Greenville, SC: Reformed Academic
Press, 1994), esp. chaps. 1–4. See also, for the figures of the WA, William Barker, Puritan Pro-
files: 54 Puritan Personalities drawn together by the Westminster Assembly (Great Britain: Men-
tor, 1996). And, finally, a recent work that sheds much light on the ecclesiastical circumstances
and theological positions of the divines is Robert A. Letham’s Westminster Assembly: Reading its
Theology in Historical Context (Phillipsburg, N.J.: P&R Publishing, 2009); with respect to the
justification controversy, and the affirmation of the IAOC, see pp. 250–264. Letham tends to see
the debate over the IAOC at the Westminster Assembly as inconclusive, retaining an ambiguity
inasmuch as the Assembly refrained from positively affirming the IAOC.
3
Alex. F. Mitchell and John Struthers, Minutes of the Sessions of the Westminster Assembly of
Divines (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1874), lxv–lxvii. The reference to
avoidance of further controversy occurs because Mitchell and Struthers recognize that though
early in the Westminster Assembly (Sept. 1643), there was controversy over the IAOC, there latter
appeared to be, at the time of the adoption of WCF 11 (in 1645/6), no further significant debate
over the IAOC, considerations of which are developed below.
4
James Ussher did not argue for the affirmation of the IAOC in the debates at Westminster
because, as a devoted Episcopalian, he opposed the meeting of the Assembly (Barker, 44–47) and
Daniel Featley, though a good source for the 1643 debate on IAOC, and a staunch defender of it,
was also an Episcopalian, who was arrested just after the justification debates and died in 1645,
before the adoption of the Westminster Confession of Faith (Barker, 47–50). It is remarkable given
the strong animus against Episcopalians how much doctrinal influence Ussher and Featley had.
This shows that the Divines could strongly disagree on matters ecclesiastical (as with the Erastians
and Independents) but be doctrinally united and give a strong affirmation of the IAOC in the
whole of the Standards even after the death of IAOC champion Featley.
5
Alex. F Mitchell, The Westminster Assembly: Its History and Standards (London, 1883; rpt.
Edmonton: Still Water Revival Books, 1992), 149–56.
1645/6 when the Assembly debated Chapter 11 of the WCF. That debate
was entirely restricted to the debate held in September 1643 when the Di-
vines were debating revising Article 11 of the Thirty-Nine Articles.
Further note should be made here that some British churchmen had ear-
lier tended to shy away from making the IAOC a confessional requirement;
or, at least James I (1603–1625) had done so in 1612. James wrote to the
Synod of the French Protestant Church meeting in Privas in that year, urg-
ing that assembly to let the question of the IAOC (and some other related
ones) “be altogether buried and left in the grave with the napkin and linen
clothes wherein the body of Christ was wrapped […] lest peradventure by
too much wrangling they seem to cut in two the living child which the ten-
der-hearted mother would not endure, or divide the seamless coat of Christ
which the cruel soldier would not suffer.”9 James argued as he did, alleging
that the “question was altogether new, and not necessary to be determined,
unheard of in former ages, not decided by any council, nor handled in the
fathers, nor disputed by the schoolmen.”10 A union of all Protestants, and
possibly even reunion of Protestants with Rome, was a great interest of
James I and no doubt a part of the reason that he wanted to minimize differ-
ences among the Reformed and make the Reformed tent as large as possi-
ble.11
Though James I did not want to make the IAOC a test of orthodoxy, the
French Protestants showed no such reluctance, ignoring James’s counsel.
When Johannes Piscator (1546–1625) taught that the active obedience of
Christ was that which Jesus owed to God and was not something imputed to
the believer in justification, such a view was declared deficient by the
French reformed synods of Privas (1612) and Tonneins (1614).12 The Synod
of Privas affirmed the IAOC in these words: “Our Lord Jesus Christ was
obedient to the Moral and Ceremonial Law, not only for our good, but also
in our stead, and his whole Obedience yielded by him thereunto is imputed
to us, and our Justification consists not only in the forgiveness of sins, but
also in the Imputation of his Active Righteousness.”13 It appears that, since
—————
9
Quoted in Mitchell, Westminster Assembly: Its History and Standards, 155
10
Ibid. Mitchell argues here and on p. 156 that “Probably it was on this account that when the
Assembly came to treat of the subject of Justification in their Confession of Faith they left out the
word whole to which Gataker and his friends had most persistently objected.” Mitchell also notes,
interestingly, that the great IAOC advocate Featley had himself cited this letter of King James
(155), indicating to this writer that Featley did not find James’s reasoning compelling.
11
Significant work has been done on the ecumenism of James I by W. Brown Patterson, be-
ginning with his important article, “James I and the Huguenot Synod of Tonneins of 1614,”
Harvard Theological Review 65 (1972), 241–270.
12
J. Wesley White, “The Denial of the Imputation of the Active Obedience of Christ: Piscator
on Justification,” The Confessional Presbyterian, 3 (2007), 147.
13
John Quick, ed., Synodicon in Gallia Reformata: Or the Acts […] of Those Famous Na-
tional Councils of the Reformed Churches in France, v.1 (London: T. Parkhurst and J. Robinson,
1692), 348.
The affirmation of the IAOC at the Assembly in 1643 has only recently
come to fuller light in the work of Chad Van Dixhoorn. While Mitchell and
others knew of this debate, we did not have all the minutes (or Lightfoot’s
Journal) from that debate and do now, thanks to the seminal work done by
Dr. Van Dixhoorn as part of his doctoral dissertation at Cambridge Univer-
sity.14 It is this work to which historians now must look for the fuller picture
of the great justification debate that took place at the Assembly in 1643.
What we see in these materials, to which even a contemporary historian like
Barker did not have access, is that when the Westminster Assembly fully
debated the matter of the IAOC, it did so in a way that clearly affirmed the
IAOC. Jeffrey Jue has recently done a good job recounting this history,
based on the more recent work of Van Dixhoorn, and has concluded that, on
the whole, the Assembly affirmed the IAOC.15 Jue’s work should be con-
sulted, along with Van Dixhoorn’s, for the fuller argument of this. A few
points, however, that fill in, and complement, the work of Jue and Van
Dixhoorn may helpfully be made here.
When the Westminster Assembly came into session on 1 July 1643, it
did not begin drafting a confession of faith (or a form or government or
directory for worship, for that matter). Rather, in its initial attempts to re-
form the English Church further (the Scottish would come later), the Par-
liament tasked the Assembly with revising the already existing articles of
faith that the English Church had employed since the time of their drafting
in the reign of Edward VI (1547–1553) and their restoration in Elizabeth’s
—————
14
Chad Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation: Theological Debate at the Westminster
Assembly, 1643–1652,” Ph.D. dissertation, The University of Cambridge, 2004. This is a seven
volume work, with the first volume containing Van Dixhoorn’s thesis proper, and volumes 2–7
consisting of appendices containing, inter alia, Lightfoot’s Journal and the Minutes of the West-
minster Assembly from 4 September 1643 to 25 March 1652. This is now the most complete
printed representation of these records that we have and have been extensively consulted in the
preparation of this essay by this writer.
15
Jue, 121–128, see esp. 126 where Jue addresses the fact that the word “whole” does not ap-
pear as a modifier to “obedience” in the final version of what the WA adopted: Jue concludes, as
does this essay, that though the historical record throws no clear light on the precise reason for
“whole” not being finally employed to modify obedience, the overall “two-Adam Christology” of
the Westminster Standards clearly militates against the denial of the IAOC.
In considering the debate over the word “whole” at the Assembly and the
affirmation of the IAOC, it is important to note that the main theological
error among Protestants, at least as far as the Assembly was concerned, and
which it determined to oppose, was antinomianism.22 To be sure, Romanism
concerned the divines, especially in regards to the doctrine of justification,
and the Assembly sought carefully to refute Rome’s errors, particularly in
this regard, at every point. The same is true of Arminianism, although there
is some dispute as to whether the Assembly took a clear position on
Amyraldianism.23 A number of factors point to the chief doctrinal concern
being antinomianism, perhaps because it was an error closer to the Assem-
bly’s view that salvation was entirely by grace and grace alone. In view of
earlier confessions having condemned Roman and Arminian error, the
Westminster Assembly wanted to make it clear that the gracious character
of the salvation that it confessed was in no way at odds with the require-
ment that Christians pursue holiness and live a godly life.
Thus the Westminster Assembly condemned the foundational antino-
mian error of eternal justification, out of which various antinomians of the
time developed doctrines teaching not only that Christians are not bound by
the third use of the law but also ideas such as that God sees no sin in his
children and that Christians need not pray “forgive us our sins.”24 The an-
—————
21
Much of this paragraph derives from fn. 289 of the OPC Justification Report, 144, to which
this writer was a primary contributor.
22
Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” v. 1, 276 ff. A number of more recent works
have highlighted the “threat” of antinomianism in Britain at the time of the WA. See, e.g., David
R. Como, Blown by the Spirit: Puritanism and the Emergence of an Antinomian Underground in
pre-Civil-War England (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2004), 64 ff, and recent articles by
David Parnham in Church History (75:3; September 2006), “The Covenantal Quietism of Tobias
Crisp,” 511–543, and in The Westminster Theological Journal (70; 2008), 73–104: “Motions of
Law and Grace: The Puritan in the Antinomian.”
23
Mitchell and Struthers, Minutes, 152 would indicate that the divine Edmund Calamy was an
Amyraldian. Warfield and others would also note Richard Vines, Lazarus Seaman, and Stephen
Marshall among that number, although Warfield argued that the expressions made in WCF 3:6,
8:5; and 8:8 would militate against any hypothetical universalist position, see Warfield, The
Westminster Assembly and its Work (New York: Oxford University Press, 1931), 56.
24
Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” 307: “Francis Taylor openly sided […] with
Gataker, Vines, and Woodcock […] by raising the antinomian issue. As Taylor saw it, if ‘Christ
The debate on Article 11 (on justification) involved not only the debate
over the addition of the word “whole” as a modifier of obedience but also a
number of amendments before and after the debate on “whole,” including
—————
hath performed the law for me, then it will follow I am not bound to keepe this lawe myself.’”
Then, van Dixhoorn makes a most telling observation: “Fear of catering to antinomianism was far
more real to most divines than the likelihood that they would stumble into one of the heretical
pitfalls” associated with antinomianism. Even in view of such, that the divines gave as vigorous an
affirmation of the free grace of God manifested in justification is significant.
25
Carruthers, 125 ff.; Paul, 176–182. See the Humble Petition of the Assembly to Parliament
concerning antinomianism, Van Dixhoorn, v. 2, Lightfoot’s Journal, 26–28.
26
Lightfoot had great disdain for the antinomians and made it clear (Van Dixhoorn, v.2.,
Journal, 31, passim) that the Assembly’s contempt for such played no little role in the debate,
even prompting a few to oppose the IAOC on the grounds that such opposition would militate
against antinomianism. Lightfoot, though a strong opponent of antinomianism, was a strong
proponent of the affirmation of the IAOC.
debate over what to title the article.27 All observers agree, however, that the
real debate was over the addition of “whole,” and thus over the question of
the IAOC. Richard Vines, opponent of the affirmation of the IAOC, spoke
first in the debate and argued that since justification means “the remission
of sins,” he assigns such strictly “to the passive obedience of Christ.” He
argued that the passive sufferings of Christ are the proper matter imputed.28
Typically throughout this debate, the few opponents of IAOC would argue
along these lines, observing also that Christ’s active obedience was that
which he was due to yield as a part of his humanity in the Incarnation and
that such was necessary to fit Him to be our sin-bearer in the passive obedi-
ence of His death on the cross. Thus begins the debate, with rejoinders to
Vines coming from Hoyle and Walker, who raise issues about whether
Christ as the Second Person of the Holy Trinity was bound to keep the law
for Himself (as opposed to keeping it for us), claiming also that references
to Christ’s obedience are synecdochal and that one cannot separate Christ’s
active and passive obedience.29
Not only does Vines respond, but Thomas Gataker as well. Gataker be-
comes the chief opponent of the affirmation of the IAOC in the debate at
the Westminster Assembly. He argues somewhat differently from Vines,
however, contending that justification itself is merely legal and does not
have in view the remission of sins. Since Gataker tends to separate the
remission of sins from the legal declaration and see justification as applying
only to the latter, he would also tend to refer the grounds of justification to
the work of Christ, separating that from the definition of justification, nar-
rowly construed.30
William Twisse, the prolocutor of the Westminster Assembly, who is
often said to have opposed the affirmation of the IAOC31 (though there is
—————
27
Van Dixhoorn, v. 3, Minutes, 12.
28
Van Dixhoorn, v. 3, Minutes, 25.
29
Ibid.
30
Van Dixhoorn, v. 2, Lightfoot’s Journal, 48ff. for the shape of the great justification debate.
31
Barker, 176, claims that Twisse joined Gataker and Vines in opposing the IAOC. This con-
tention is not substantiated, however. Twisse, as a supralapsarian, was particularly concerned with
any teaching that savored of synergism (Roman Catholicsm, Arminianism, etc. see Barker, 29). A
number of Twisse’s writings bear out his supralapsarian convictions, particularly his work on John
Cotton’s Treatise Concerning Predestination (London: J. D. for Andrew Crook, 1646) and The
Riches of Gods Love unto the Vessells of Mercy, Consistent with His Absolute Hatred or Reproba-
tion of the Vessells of Wrath […] (post., Oxford: Printers to the University, 1653), this last work
containing a particularly vigorous defense of the supralapsarian order in the decrees. If Twisse for
some reason did oppose the IAOC in justification, it was not because he believed salvation to be
anything than utterly monergistic. If Twisse was extreme in any direction, he was a hyper-
Calvininst, not a neo-nomian like Richard Baxter (Barker, 288–94) and so Twisse’s alleged
opposition to IAOC would not threaten the utter graciousness of justification as would the opposi-
tion of neo-nomians to IAOC. For more on Twisse, see also Benjamin Brooks, The Lives of the
Puritans, v. 3 (1813; rpt. Pittsburgh: Soli Deo Gloria Publications, 1994), 12–17.
ment of every reasonable debate tactic to secure its defeat. Gataker, Vines,
and a few others ultimately exhausted their say and were unconvincing to
their fellows. When the vote came in Session 52 at the close of the Tuesday
morning session on 12 September 1643, only three or four are said to have
dissented and even at that none had their negative votes recorded save Ga-
taker, initially at least, and he for some reason thereafter apparently
changed his mind and asked that his negative vote be stricken.36
This 1643 debate over the addition of the word “whole” to modify obe-
dience is the only record that we have of such a debate over the IAOC.37
The other citations in the Assembly Minutes, which includes every refer-
ence at the Westminster Assembly to the doctrine of justification, read as
follows: “2 Dec. 1645; 23 July 1646; and 4 Feb. 1647 (Minutes 3:113r,
281v or 166v, 303v or 195v). For the debates on the text of the chapters, see
3, 8-11, 16 Dec 1645; for the scriptures see, 10, 11 Feb. 1647 (Minutes
3:113r–115r, 123v–124r).”38 There is no record for any of these dates, when
checked in the Minutes concerning the Confession of Faith and catechisms,
of any debate on justification, not to mention active obedience, comparable
to that held in September 1643 when the Assembly voted to affirm active
obedience by retaining the language of “whole obedience.”
Insofar as it is alleged that the dissent of certain figures in this debate
points to a lack of agreement on the IAOC, it is the case that no one in this
debate availed himself of the mechanism of dissent available to all members
of the Westminster Assembly. The Parliament had established a protocol
for the Assembly whereby members might express dissent.39 Lest it be
thought that such a mechanism was never employed, in the same general
timeframe as the 1643 justification debate, Cornelius Burgess objected to a
particular action of the Divines and invoked the established avenues of
dissent.40 Gataker did nothing of the sort when it came to the vote of the
—————
36
Ibid. It is noted in Van Dixhoorn’s note 7 here (on 77), “‘dissenting. Mr. Gataker,’ ‘Mr. Ga-
taker’ erased.”
37
What follows in this paragraph comes from footnote 287 of the OPC Justification Report,
143.
38
Van Dixhoorn’s “Reforming the Reformation,” 324, notes 234–235.
39
Van Dixhoorn, v. 2, Lightfoot’s Journal , 3–4: On 6 July 1643, both houses of Parliament
sent to the Assembly a set of eight “general rules” of procedure, the 7th and 8th being particularly
relevant for our purposes. Rule 7 sets forth that “no man [is] to be denied to enter his dissent from
the Assembly, and his reasons for it at any point,” and if subsequent debate in the Assembly does
not yield satisfaction, the dissenting party may have it sent to Parliament not as the concern of a
particular man but as a point not capable of clear resolution by the Westminster Assembly. Rule 8
makes further provisions for dissent. The important point to be made here is that recourse to such
rules was never taken by Gataker or others who may have opposed the Westminster Assembly’s
affirmation of the IAOC in 1643.
40
Van Dixhoorn, v. 2, Lightfoot’s Journal, 40 ff. Here Lightfoot begins to report on what he
regards as great contentiousness on the part of Burgess in opposing certain features of the Solemn
—————
43
Mitchell and Struthers, Minutes, 258–59.
—————
44
Barker, Puritan Profiles, 159.
45
Mitchell, Westminster Assembly: Its History and Standards, 155–56.
46
“Reforming the Reformation,” 324–330. See especially 326: Van Dixhoorn does note that
the Assembly, in drafting its 1646 catechism that was eventually abandoned in favor of the larger
and shorter catechisms, may have considered adding there something explicit about the IAOC.
Because the Westminster Assembly did not then or thereafter in either the WCF or the catechisms
explicitly affirm the IAOC (as Savoy clearly did in 1658), Van Dixhoorn concludes that the
Assembly’s decision “not to use the language of the active obedience of Christ” was “deliberate,”
and thus it “appears that the Assembly chose not to make its statement as clear as possible.” He
further says, on 328, that it is possible in the two to three years between the two main debates over
justification, “a critical number of divines may have changed their minds over the necessity of the
doctrine in a national confession.” Two observations: there was no real debate to speak of in
1645/6 in re: the IAOC, and there is counter-evidence that in other places and in other words the
divines manifested that they still affirmed the IAOC. This writer thinks it more likely that, to make
for as much peace as possible (and adopting a wise debate strategy), the divines chose not to re-
introduce the word “whole” as it was not needed, being rendered unnecessary by other words that
did the same, if not a better, job and enjoying more space to express affirmation of the IAOC. This
writer appreciates Van Dixhoorn’s pacific approach here, but points out that Van Dixhoorn him-
self admits that there is no clear evidence that the divines changed their minds over the necessity
of the doctrine in a national confession. The only supposed evidence is that “whole” no longer
modifies “obedience” at any point. This essay attempts to provide an answer for such an “omis-
sion,” noting that the greater space given to issues relating to the IAOC in the Confession and
catechisms more than makes up for any alleged lack because of the absence of the word “whole.”
Given that the original task of the Westminster Assembly was not to pro-
pose a new confession of faith but to revise the already existing articles of
religion (the 39 Articles), along with suggesting revisions for the govern-
ment, discipline, and worship of the church, it might prove helpful to reflect
—————
47
Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” 329.
48
See, for much of this history, W.D.J. McKay, “Scotland and the Westminster Assembly,” in
The Westminster Confession into the 21st Century, v. 1 (Scotland: Mentor, 2003), 213–45.
—————
49
As noted above, Carruthers and Paul are helpful for this as is Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming
the Reformation,” 12–54, on the “calling and constitution of the Westminster Assembly,” all of
which were consulted especially for the following paragraphs.
50
Hugh M. Cartwright, “Westminster and Establishment: A Scottish Perspective,” in The
Westminster Confession into the 21st Century, v. 2 (Scotland: Mentor, 2004), 181–221.
51
Carruthers, 21.
52
Ibid.
Rome taught) or state over church (as Caesoropapism had it in the Middle
Ages and Erastianism in the Reformation), England, since the time of the
Reformation under Henry VIII (r. 1509-1547), had largely, at least in the
monarchy and her governing bodies, embraced the state over church model.
And it was this Erastian model that prevailed even at the time of the West-
minster Assembly and that rendered that body purely advisory to the Par-
liament, impacting something of the way that it did its work and of how we
should view the products of that Assembly.
Perhaps a bit of historical perspective would be helpful in comparing the
Westminster Assembly to other bodies that addressed matters of Christian
doctrine.53 It is the case that after the conversion of Constantine (312), civil
authorities fairly commonly convened ecclesiastical assemblies. But the
nature of such convocations was usually for the purpose of addressing par-
ticular errors and/or condemning certain heresies, unlike Westminster
which was called to address the further reformation of the church in Eng-
land broadly. Constantine himself, for instance, called the Council of Nicea
(325) to secure the purity, peace, and unity of the church with regards to the
Arian controversy. That council ended with all those present, but two, sign-
ing off on the condemnation of Arianism (with the two dissenters also being
condemned). Councils in the ancient and medieval church, whether called
by civil rulers or not, typically on their own authority, together with papal
approval as that became an issue, condemned various views and defined the
faith in authoritative ways. The Westminster Assembly, however, was not a
body that had the authority of itself to condemn views and then compel
those who held such condemned views either to recant or to suffer excom-
munication.
The Westminster Assembly, in other words, did not have the power that
General Assemblies, or even lower judicatories of the church, have. As far
as Reformed synods were concerned, following the ecumenical councils of
the earlier church, Dort (1618-1619) was the Reformed body back to which
the Westminster Assembly looked in the execution of its work. Dort was an
assembly called by the state to deal with the crisis in the Reformed churches
precipitated by the Remonstrants, followers of Arminius, who challenged
Reformed orthodoxy at that point. Dort condemned Arminianism, dismiss-
ing the Remonstrants from its meetings and giving the state warrant to deal
with the Arminians as those whom the church acting in solemn synodical
council had determined to censure. Westminster had no such power of
church censure, much less to order the state to treat those whose teachings it
might have proscribed in a certain way.
—————
53
Helpful here, broadly, and from which some of this generally derives, is the article by this
writer, “Church and State in Historical Perspective,” in Ordained Servant 16 (2007), 93–100.
worth mentioning in the changes that Savoy made to the WCF.55 One might
argue, then, that what Savoy did to modify chapter 11 in its revision of the
WCF was not regarded as something clearly different from Westminster but
served only to clarify the WCF on the specific point of the IAOC, making
explicit what was implicit in it.
Two things, in summary, seemed to be missed by those who contend
that since the Westminster Assembly did not in 1645/6 affirm the IAOC the
way that it did in 1643 that the Assembly intended ambiguity on the ques-
tion. First, as we have sought to show above, simply because the specific
language used early in the Assembly to affirm the IAOC does not appear
later in the Assembly (in the final form of what we now call the Westmin-
ster Standards) does not mean that one should infer that the Assembly did
not affirm (in a host of ways) the IAOC. Second, Westminster was not a
court of the church and did not have the power to exclude any of her mem-
bers who differed from her as do church courts (witness the debate about
church government which did not lead to the exclusion of the independ-
ents). This is how a Gataker could have his position ruled out but still con-
tinue in the Assembly, which was not a body that could act on its own
authority but was consultative with Parliament.
2.8 Conclusion
The burden of this essay has been to argue that when the Westminster As-
sembly of Divines directly addressed the question of the imputation of the
active obedience of Christ with respect to the doctrine of justification, the
Assembly, on balance, affirmed such a doctrine. Nothing that was done
subsequently in the Westminster Confession of Faith or Catechisms under-
mined that commitment, though such affirmation as those documents con-
tained was implicit rather than explicit. That outside the Westminster As-
sembly the doctrine remained disputed is evident from several considera-
tions. For example, Westminster divine Anthony Burgess wrote, “Among
the Protestants there are some eminent and Learned men, who have also
been for the Negative, viz. the Non-Imputation of Christ’s Active Obedi-
ence, as the matter of our Justification; though the number for the Negative,
is nothing equal to the number for the Affirmative.”56
So before and after the Westminster Assembly, the doctrine of the impu-
tation of the active obedience of Christ remained in dispute. The Independ-
ents who modified the Westminster Standards at Savoy in 1658 to suit their
—————
55
Philip Schaff, ed. The Creeds of Christendom, v. 3 (rpt. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1985), 718.
This paragraph derives from the OPC Justification Report, fn. 290, p. 144.
56
The True Doctrine of Justification Asserted & Vindicated […], (London, 1654), To the
Reader, [p. 3].
—————
57
Jaroslav Pelikan and Valerie Hotchkiss, ed., Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Chris-
tian Tradition, v. 3 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003), 115.
58
Alan D. Strange, “The Affirmation of the Imputation of the Active Obedience of Christ at
the Westminster Assembly of Divines,” The Confessional Presbyterian, 4 (2008), 194–209, 311.
Hunter Powell
3.1 Introduction
has been seen as an ecclesiastical war between these two groups. But scho-
lastic debate was a fundamental part of the way these divines thought and
argued, and this reality has been oddly overlooked in studies of the West-
minster Assembly debates over church government. Therefore historians
have seen intense debate as conflict, rather than as the application of requi-
site methodological rules for discussion.6 Being sensitive or gentle to one’s
opponent was utterly foreign to those trained in scholastic disputation. “He
was rather a proselytizer for his own opinions, eager to divide truth from
error, to best his adversary here and now, to secure acceptance of his ideas
by his disciples and contemporaries.”7 The enshrined methodology of scho-
lastic disputation, utilizing Aristotelian syllogisms as a preferred rhetorical
tool, heightens the complexity of studying the Westminster minutes. “The
rhetorical ‘trick’ […] of a syllogism is that one constructs a line of reason-
ing on the basis of premises one supposes to be accepted by the opposition.
One then can draw a conclusion from the premises in favour of one’s own
position.”8 Using this method, “an attempt is made to corner the opponent,
since if the syllogism is constructed properly he must accept the conclusion
or else deny the premises.”9 The disputation was highly stylized, rigorously
adhered to and success was fought for.10 Thus, what may seem like ecclesi-
astical warfare in the Westminster Assembly to the modern reader was
exactly what these divines were trained to do.
The last three days of October 1643 give us the most accurate depiction
of the uniquely English controversies of the Westminster Assembly. We
witness the Assembly’s brief foray into the “substratum”, as Thomas
Goodwin called it, of all ecclesiological discourse. It may not be an exag-
geration to say that the “Grand Debate” was over before it began. At the
end of October, the Scottish commissioners had not yet taken their seats in
the Assembly and therefore a third party was not present to convolute the
discussion. The Assembly first addressed the topic, “the power of the
keyes.” The verse at the heart of the debate was Matthew 16:19, where
Christ tells Peter, “And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of
heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven:
and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” W. M.
Hetherington, J. R. De Witt and Robert S. Paul pass this month over as
—————
6
Robert S. Paul is more interested in the conclusions of each debate, instead carefully analyz-
ing the theological content of those debates. Although, as a source for sheer information concern-
ing the Westminster Assembly, Paul remains the best available source.
7
W. T. Costello, The scholastic curriculum at early seventeenth-century Cambridge
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1958), 8–9.
8
T. T. J. Pleizer & M. Wisse, “‘As the Philosopher Says: Aristotle’”, in W. J. van Asselt (ed.)
Introduction to Reformed Scholasticism vol. 26–44 (Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books,
2010), 36.
9
Ibid., 36.
10
Costello, The scholastic curriculum, 20–21.
tion that the position of the Apologists was distinctly different than that of
most “independents”. These were not new concepts the Apologists were
introducing to the Assembly. Indeed, over a year before Goodwin stood
before Parliament and preached an uncontroversial sermon in which his
view of Matthew 16:19 and his understanding of national church reform
along congregational lines were fully present.15 The October 1643 debate
materialized out of a seemingly innocuous proposition by Lazarus Seaman,
namely that the apostles had the power of the keys and also exercised those
powers. Because Seaman attempted to use Matthew 16:19 as his proof-text,
he exposed decades of ecclesiological positioning against opposing spectres
of prelatic tyranny and separatist anarchy. For the Apologists Matthew
16:19 represented the ‘substratum” of all church power, and therefore could
not so easily be passed over without putting one of their bedrock theologi-
cal tenets at risk.
—————
15
A significant story overlooked in the historiography is that Zerubbabels encouragement was
preached as an Old Testament recapitulation of Goodwin’s commentary on Revelation 11, which,
as Michael Lawrence has shown, was the exegetical basis for Goodwin’s migration toward con-
gregationalism. T. Goodwin, Zerubbabels encouragement to finish the temple. A sermon preached
before the honourable House of Commons, at their late solemne fast, Apr. 27. 1642 (London,
1642); Chapter 3.
16
Paraphrased from Simpson, Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17
Nov. 1643”, 180.
17
J. Lightfoot, The journal of the proceedings of the Assembly of Divines, from January 1,
1643, to December 31, 1644: and letters to and from Dr. Lightfoot, The whole works of the Rev.
John Lightfoot, D.D v. 13 (London, 1824), 17; Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4
Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 172.
18
“House of Lords Journal Volume 6: 12 October 1643”, Journal of the House of Lords: vol-
ume 6: 1643 (1767–1830), 254–255. Online version. Date accessed: 01 September 2010;
Lightfoot, Journal, 17.
—————
27
The belief that the Apologists promised a platform prior to 1644 has been largely derived
from William Rathband. Rathband was not an Assembly member when he made the claim. Nor
was Rathband a member of the Assembly when the Apologists request to start with a platform was
denied. In the Assembly Rathband came quite close to the Apologists in his own polity. Further-
more, Rathband is particularly engaging New England divines. Thomas Welde, the New England
divine who responded to Rathband, “profess[ed] solemnly” that he had “not so much of heard of
any promise” to deliver a platform of church government “why then doth [Rathband] lay it upon
the Independent brethren without exception”. And indeed, Rathband does not tell us who promised
a platform of church government. Although he claims that an organization of John Robinsons”
polity would be the best approximation of the platform that had been denied to him. It was clear in
the Assembly that the Apologists were not defending Robinson’s ecclesiology. W. Rathband, A
briefe narration of some church courses held in opinion and practise in the churches lately erected
in New England. Collected out of sundry of their own printed papers and manuscripts with other
good intelligences. Together with some short hints (given by the way) of their correspondence with
the like tenents and practises of the separatists churches. And some short animadversions upon
some principall passages for the benefit of the vulgar reader. Presented to publike view for the
good of the Church of God by W.R. (London, 1644), 1–2; T. Welde, An ansvver to W.R. his
narration of the opinions and practises of the churches lately erected in Nevv-England.
Vindicating those Godly and orthodoxall churches, from more then an hundred imputations
fathered on them and their church way, by the said W.R. in his booke. Wherein is plainely proved,
1. That the grounds of his narration are sandie and insufficient. 2. That the maner of his handling
it, unloving and irregular. 3. That the matter of it, ful of grosse mistakes & divers contradictions.
4. That the quotations extremely wrested, and out of measure abused. 5. That his marginall notes
impertinent and injurious. By Thomas Welde, pastour of the church of Roxborough in Nevv-
England. This is licensed and entered according to order. (London, 1644), 1–2. For an example of
Rathband’s similarity to the Apologists in the Assembly, see Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster
Assembly Minutes, 12 April 1644 to 15 Nov. 1644”, 55.
—————
28
Lightfoot, Journal, 20; Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17
Nov. 1643”, 177.
29
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 177.
30
Ibid., 290. This was a fascinating debate, particularly as we see the Assembly giving leeway
to some separatists who wanted to work within the national church. Calamy stated, that the main
goal of question was “to keepe out totall separatists from sequestered livings.” By “totall separa-
tists” Calamy meant those who left the church and subsequently denied the church they left to be a
true church. Ibid., 290.
31
Ibid., 178.
32
Ibid., 176.
gories. “One: whether the words of the proposition be true. [2]. Whether
that place 16 Math. prove it. [3]. What is the primum subjectum?”42 The
Assembly found it nearly impossible to isolate one of those three points
from the other two. We will briefly look at the salient points made about
point one, before taking a closer look at the Apologists’ understanding of
the last two.
Lightfoot recorded that Herle, “thought it very questionable whether the
keys were given to the apostles or the church.” Herle cited the Catholic
Sorbonnists of Paris “who thinke that the keyes ware not immediately given
to the apostles, but to the church, as they quote most of the fathers, &c.”43
They stated that “in the natural body all faculties are not given to the sev-
eral instruments, The subject by which (subjectum quo) is the eye, but the
subject which (subjectum quod) is the whole man.”44 Herle was essentially
saying what many presbyterians had long believed, the keys were given “to
the church formally and subjectively, and not only finally for the benefit of
it.”45
By saying this, Herle was not so subtly introducing the great English di-
vine Robert Parker into the debates. Parker had noted, “so that primarily all
is in the church, secondarily in her rectors for her sake, as the end which is
before the meanes intention, and as the whole which is before the part,” and
therefore “God and nature intend the whole first and more immediately then
any part how noble soever, say the Paris divines illustrating it by the eye
induced with sight for the whole, etc.”46 Parker was himself indebted to the
Sorbonnists. It is a fascinating moment, given, as we noted in chapter one,
that Robert Parker had been effectively labelled an “independent” by
Rutherford. Rutherford also rejected the interpretation of the Sorbonnists
for the same reason. But, of course, Rutherford was not yet there to object.
Parker followed the Sorbonnists in acknowledging that the keys, as Herle
also noted, “were not Immediately given to the apost[les], but to the church,
as they quote from many of the fathers”.47
The Sorbonnists, represented in the writings of Jacques Almain, John
Major, and Jean Gerson, believed that Christ had given the power of the
keys immediately to all the believers, and through them to the pastors.48
Almain stated that the power promised to Peter in both Matthew 16:19 and
Matthew 18:18, “are to be understood as referring to the faithful” and that
“Christ conferred […] power immediately on the Church, understanding the
—————
42
Ibid., 221.
43
Ibid., 211.
44
Ibid., 211–212; Lightfoot, Journal, 31.
45
Lightfoot, Journal, 31.
46
Parker, De Politeia Ecclesiastica [trans.], 96r.
47
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 211.
48
Rutherford, Peaceable plea, 3.
strength of Herle’s statement and sought to defer the entire question regard-
ing the “universal militant church”, which “will come better to be discussed
at another time.”54 Gouge concluded, “Although it be granted that the
church had the power [of the keys], yet if the apostles had them Immedi-
ately from Christ, is the question at hand.”55 The Assembly went ahead and
voted in approval of the proposition. But it was not the end of the debate.
The proposition needed a proof-text and the Apologists were on the verge
of losing the basis for their whole ecclesiological position. They needed to
convince the Assembly that the proposition could stand, but that Matthew
16:19 could not stand with it.
many English presbyterians that followed him, although they drew different
practical conclusions. None of these three options were seriously debated
on the floor. And although the Apologists were intent on distancing them-
selves from this third option, there were nonetheless some Assembly pres-
byterians who were reluctant to totally dismiss it.
—————
– the highest act of church power – was given to the church of believers as the first subject. This
“binding and loosing” typically cited from Matthew 18:17–19, was exegetically tied to Matthew
16:19. While some of these divines would delineate distinct functions of elders and the people
(particularly Davenport and Hooker) in the process of excommunication, yet they either implicitly
or explicitly embraced the exegesis that Peter represented the believers and therefore believers
were the first subjects of all church power. The connection between Matthew 16:19 and Matthew
18:19 will be explored in chapters 5 and 6. For examples, see H. Ainsworth, An animadversion to
Mr Richard Clyftons advertisement Who under pretense of answering Chr. Lawnes book, hath
published an other mans private letter, with Mr Francis Iohnsons answer therto. Which letter is
here justified; the answer therto refuted: and the true causes of the lamentable breach that hath
lately fallen out in the English exiled Church at Amsterdam, manifested, by Henry Ainsworth
(Amsterdam, 1610), 10; H. Ainsworth, An apologie or defence of such true Christians as are
commonly (but vniustly) called Brovvnists: against such imputations as are layd vpon them by the
heads and doctors of the Vniversity of Oxford, in their Ansvver to the humble petition of the
ministers of the Church of England, desiring reformation of certayne ceremonies and abuses of the
Church. (1604), 43; H. Ainsworth, A True Confession of the Faith, and humble Acknowledgment
of the Alegeance, which wee hir Maiesties Subjects, falsely called Brownists, doo hould towards
God, and yeild to hir Majestie and all other that are ouer vs in Lord. Set down in articles or
positions, etc. [By Henry Ainsworth.] ([Amsterdam?], 1596), 22–24; W. Best, The churches plea
for her right. Or A reply to an answer, made of Mr. Iohn Paget, against William Best and others
(Amsterdam, 1635), 72; H. Burton, A vindication of churches commonly called Independent, or, A
briefe ansvver to two books the one intituled, Twelve considerable serious questions touching
church-government, the other, Independency examined, unmasked, refuted &c. (London, 1644),
26; Canne, Syons prerogatyve royal, 4; K. Chidley, The Justification of the Independant Churches
of Christ. Being an answer to Mr. Edwards his booke, which hee hath written against the
government of Christs Church, and toleration of Christs publicke worship; briefly declaring that
the congregations of the Saints ought not to have dependance in government upon any other, etc.
(London, 1641), 10–11; J. Davenport, The Power of Congregational Churches asserted and
vindicated, in answer to a treatise of Mr. J. Paget, intituled The Defence of Church-Government
exercised in Classes and Synods (London, 1672), 90–106; H. Jacob, A confession and protestation
of the faith of certaine Christians, etc. (1616), Articles 3, 4, and 10; The Presbyteriall government
examined, vvherein the weaknesse of their grounds are unfolded: also their pretended proofes
disproved; and the liberty of the people in chusing of their owne officers: proved out of the word of
God. Whereunto is annexed certaine arguments an reasons, proving the foresayd Presbyteriall
government to be contrary to the patterne that our Lord Jesus Christ hath left us in the New
Testament. All which we humbly present to the Kings most Excellent Majesty: the right
Honourable Lords, and the Honourable House of Commons, now assembled in Parliament.,
(1641), 12; J. Smyth, Paralleles, censures, observations. Aperteyning: to three several writinges,
1. A lettre written to Mr. Ric. Bernard, by Iohn Smyth. 2. A book intituled, the Seperatists schisme
published by Mr. Bernard. 3. An answer made to that book called the Se Schisme by Mr. H.
Ainsworth. Whereunto also are adioyned. 1. The said lettre written to Mr. Ric. Bernard divided
into 19. sections. 2. Another lettre written to Mr. A.S. 3. A third letter written to certayne bretheren
of the seperation (Middleberg, 1609), 36.
Thomas Goodwin opened the door to the Apologists’ central tenet, which
was the fifth option for Matthew 16:19. Goodwin stated, “If the question be
whether the apostle be subjectum totale or the church be subjectum totale”
this is “a distinction I do not soe well understand. They received apostells
and the church had his power afterwards.”70 From Goodwin’s perspective,
there were three questions: “Whether Peter represented the Apostles and
ministers only; or whether he represented the Church also, or whether Peter
here is personally taken, as the sole and single subject of a personal privi-
lege.”71 And the solution to this debate takes us to the heart of the Apolo-
gists’ understanding of the keys: “We say all these here are intended, in this
[Christ’s] first promise uttering it himself in this indefinite way, which was
afterwards to be more distinctively divided.”72
For the Apologists this promise made to Peter was done in an indistinct,
general, and comprehensive way. As William Carter stated, “it will hardly
be proved that what is said to Peter is to be aplyed as a believer or rather as
—————
66
Goodwin, Government, 45.
67
Jus divinum regiminis ecclesiastici, 68; See also 36, 55.
68
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 213.
69
Ibid., 216.
70
Ibid., 214.
71
Goodwin, Government, 47.
72
Ibid., 47.
an apostell, pastor, & believer. What was given to Peter as the proton decti-
con must comprehend all of these.”73 Nye would repeat this very comment
on the floor a few months later.74 For the congregationalists the word
“Church” in Matthew 16:19 was taken indefinitely “and for the Church
Universal; but not as an Institution Political, and therefore [Jesus] does not
say he will give the keys to [the church political] but to Peter” and Peter is
taken, as we have seen, “as representing both Saints and Minister, to be
divided into several bodies, as afterwards Christ should appoint.”75 This
was, as Goodwin told the Assembly, “the first promise Christ ever uttered,
that he would build the church; & the first expression that he would give the
power of keyes out of himself & because Peter made the first confession.”
Peter therefore, “represented all power whatsoever. The first grand charter
of the gospel which is afterwards to be branched out as Christ placed it.”76
This branching out and delimitating of church power would occur in Mat-
thew 18.
For Goodwin, when Christ gives Simon Bar-Jonas his new name, Peter,
it was not so much a “personal, as a Mystical consideration”.77 It was a
grand charter, taken federally and yet indefinitely, for all the aspects of the
church that was to be built. And the strength of this argument came from
redemptive history, where God had singled out one Man “in whose name
this Grand charter should emmeninately run”. The two examples singled
out by Goodwin were Adam and Abraham. “Adam was fixed upon, when
God, in his name gave the Earth unto the rest of the Sons of men; So Abra-
ham was singled out to represent […] the Jews who were his children” and
who would inherit the land of Canaan.78 In this way Peter bore the “persons
of all sorts, that were to have any portion of power, whether of his Apostles,
Extraordinary officers; or ordinary officers, as also of the Church of Believ-
ers, and even to all to whom ever any portion of the keyes was for the future
to be given.”79 Goodwin followed Paul Baynes in stating that Peter was a
typical representation of the church and its officers who would receive
power afterward.80 The Greek for “give” was in the future tense, and there-
fore when Christ said, “I will give”, it meant that there was to be a further
clarifying and constituting of a specific church. This indefinite promise
—————
73
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 214.
74
C. Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the reformation: Theological debate in the Westminster
Assembly: Westminster Assembly Minutes, 17 Nov. 1643 to 11 April 1644”, University of
Cambridge, Ph.D. thesis (2004d), 665.
75
Goodwin, Government, 44.
76
Ibid, Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 221.
77
Goodwin, Government, 45.
78
Ibid., 45.
79
Ibid., 46.
80
Ibid., 46; Baynes, The diocesans tryall : Wherein all the sinnews of D. Downams defence
are brought unto three heads, and orderly dissolved (Amsterdam, 1621), 84–85.
way” between purely clerical rule and the anarchy of Brownism.87 These are
the types of distinctions that would draw the Scottish presbyterians closer to
the Apologists. They respected the distinction between the elders and the
people, but they attempted to prevent the people from ruling over their
leaders, while nonetheless protecting the prerogatives of the people. Indeed,
the evidence suggests that one reason the Apologists were included in the
Assembly was that they did not believe the faithful in a church were the
first subjects of all church power.88
Whereas some of the English presbyterians were horrified by any power
belonging to the people, the Apologists found sympathizers in men like
Charles Herle who warned the Assembly against the danger of pushing the
denial of Peter’s representing the faithful too far. Herle said, “Many of the
fathers and schoolmen have understood [Peter as representing the faithful]
& and yet are far from anarchy.”89 He noted that the “consent of the people
in election of officers is absolutely necessary”. And if this was true, Herle
conceded, there must be some sort of power in the church, although not
necessarily an exercise of power.”90 This debate shows that their fears of
anarchy, coupled with the clerical impulses, caused many among the Eng-
lish presbyterians to feel caught between two extremes. On the one hand, it
was clear that many “fathers and scoolemen” believed that Peter repre-
sented the faithful. For Herle, if the “power” was not first in the people,
“then officers cannot represent the church”.91 On the other hand, Herle
could not accept a government by the people beyond their right to elect
church officers, for ‘such a popular way [would be] anabaptisme”.92
The only way for Herle to cut this Gordian knot was to embrace the po-
sition where “power” was in the church as the “primum susceptivum not of
that exercise but of that power.”93 Therefore, the only way to salvage Mat-
thew 16:19 in favour of the presbyterian position, without sacrificing
Parker-type representation, was to join it to John 20:23, where Jesus gives
the extraordinary power to bind and loose specifically to the Apostles. That
way Matthew 16:19 could be further restricted to the Apostles, without
having to address the power of the church at all. So, Herle concluded, either
“Wave [Math. 16:19] or joyn it with Joh[n].”94
—————
87
Ibid., 231.
88
Compare Herle’s comment on “anabaptism” below, and his comments about the Narration,
107.
89
Ibid., 229.
90
Ibid., 229.
91
Ibid., 229.
92
Ibid., 229.
93
Ibid., 229.
94
Ibid., 229; John 20:23, “Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and
whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained.”
talking of the ordinances of the church, he adds “wee [do so] within the
compass of the whole Catholick. So much and so neare is our affinitie with
a member of the membership of the Catholick church in such a perform-
ance.”100 This communion however, does not extend to matters of jurisdic-
tion, including “elections, censures, &c […] which are properly kept to that
one Individual church whereof wee are members of.”101 Citing the Scottish
presbyterian David Calderwood, Goodwin even went as far as to say that
communion with the universal church was through membership in a par-
ticular church.102 They flatly denied, however, that the “keys of jurisdiction”
could be committed to the universal church.103
Some English presbyterians began to fear that Seaman’s proposition
would mean the particular church’s power was derivative of the power
given to the visible universal church as the primum subjectum. And this fear
was fully realized only five months later when Seaman pressed the Assem-
bly to agree that the “keys” were given to the universal visible church.
Bridge pointed Seaman back to these October debates and retorted, “You
have voted the power of the keyes to the apostells Immediately, & how can
it be now to the church visible”?104
This is why Goodwin prioritized his rejoinder to presbyterian views of
the universal church before his discussion on the keys in his Government of
the Churches of Christ.105 For the congregationalists the church universal
was not instituted as a political body, and therefore the particular church did
not derive its power from it. According to Goodwin, “those who assert the
General Church to be a Political Body, seem to be divided into two sorts of
ways to explain it.”106 There were those who made the particular church to
be the ecclesia primae and they believed that synods, classes, and national
assemblies are “but Ecclesiae ortae, removes from, and representations of
those that are Ecclesia Primae, the first Churches which are Congrega-
—————
100
Ibid., 185.
101
Ibid., 185.
102
Goodwin, Government, 152, 227.
103
Ibid., 152. Goodwin would use this argument preaching in London in 1641 to point out
that the Donatist error was to deny the universal church, while the Brownist error is to deny “true
churches”, whether in presbyterian or Episcopal parishes to be true churches. Francis Cheynell
was evidently in attendance at these sermons and cited this section positively. T. Goodwin, The
Works of Thomas Goodwin, D.D. Sometime President of Magdalen Colledg in Oxford. The First
volume. Containing an Exposition on the First, and part of the Second Chapter of the Epistle to
the Ephesians. And sermons preached on several occasions, 3 parts [with separate t. pt. I: An
Exposition on the First, and part of the Second Chapter, of the Epistle to the Ephesians, pt. II: An
Exposition on the First Eleven Verses of the Second Chapter of the Epistle to the Ephesians, pt III:
Thirteen Sermons Preached on Diverse Texts of Scripture upon Several Occasions] (1681), vol. 1,
476; Cheynell, The rise, growth, and danger of Socinianisme, 66.
104
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 662
105
Goodwin, Government, 42.
106
Ibid., 42.
though they were, may have reflected residual traces of their Episcopalian
tradition.
Nevertheless, the particular English presbyterian position on the church
universal was unique in the Reformed orthodox tradition. The London
ministers’ Jus Divinum Ministerii Ecclesiastici is largely representative of
at least one major strand of English presbyterianism.115 However, in their
views of the universal visible church they refer the reader to Samuel Hud-
son whom they cite as their authority on the matter.116 Hudson’s book repre-
sents a complex, logical pamphlet debate that deserves more attention than
this chapter has space to address.117 Yet it does expose us to a uniquely
English debate that does not seem to be a source of tension prior to 1643.
According to Thomason, Hudson’s The Essence and Unitie of the Church
Catholike Visible, and the Prioritie thereof in regard of Particular
Churches Discussed was brought to publication in March 1645. However,
in the preface Hudson himself states, “This Thesis was compiled about a
year agoe, for the accommodation of private friends.”118 In other words, this
document that defined the English presbyterian position was written around
the same time that the Assembly was debating the Universal church. More
interestingly, given the Assembly’s effort to conform to the best Reformed
—————
115
I am grateful to Elliot Vernon for his discussing the importance – and limitations – of Jus
Divinum as an English presbyterian document.
116
Jus Divinum Ministerii Evangelici, or the divine right of the Gospel-Ministry. Divided into
two parts [...] Together with an appendix [...] about the whole matter of episcopacy, etc.
Published by the Provincial Assembly of London, (London, 1654), 143.
117
An interesting component of this debate is the fact that Samuel Hudson finds more sympa-
thy with the writings of Cotton, the Apologists, and John Norton, than he does with Thomas
Hooker. See, J. Ellis, Vindiciæ catholicæ, or the rights of particular churches rescued: and
asserted against that meer (but dangerous) notion of one catholick, visible, governing church: the
foundation of the (now endeavoured) Presbyterie. Wherein by Scripture, reason, antiquity, and
later writers first, the novelty, peril, scandal, and untruth of this tenet, are cleerly demonstrated.
Secondly, all the arguments for it, produced by the Rev. Apollonius, M. Hudson, M. Noyes, the
London ministers, and others: are examined and dissolved. To the Parliament of England, and
Assembly of Divines (London, 1647); Hooker, A survey of the summe of church-discipline, for
example, 287; S. Hudson, The Essence and Unitie of the Church Catholike Visible, And the
prioritie thereof in regard particular churches discussed (London, 1644); S. Hudson, A
vindication of The essence and unity of the Church Catholike visible. And the priority thereof in
regard of particular churches. In answer to the objections made against it, both by Mr. John Ellis,
junior, and by that reverend and worthy divine Mr. Hooker, in his Surve of church discipline. By
Samuel Hudson minister of the Gospel at Capell in Suff. (London, 1650); S. Stone, A
congregational church is a catholike visible church. Or An examination of M. Hudson his
vindication concerning the integrality of the catholike visible church. Wherein also satisfaction is
given to what M. Cawdrey writes touching that subject, in his review of M. Hooker’s Survey of
church discipline. By Samuel Stone, Teacher to the Church of Christ at Hartford in New-England
(London, 1652). For examples of Hudson’s views of Cotton, the Apologists, and Norton, see,
Hudson, A vindication of The essence and unity of the Church Catholike visible, preface, 20, 162,
177, 198.
118
Hudson, Essence and unitie, preface, not paginated.
Robert Parker within the English presbyterian community. Parker had be-
lieved in synods of elders gathered from several churches, but only insofar
as the particular church of believers – the ecclesiae primae, and the first
subject of church power for Parker – was willing to give over its own power
to synods. For Parker, the universal church was unable to exercise the
power of the keys, and therefore cannot be the first subject of the keys.128
Hudson, conversely, believed that all promises, including the keys, were
given to the Catholic Visible Church as the first subject. As Hudson stated,
“that promise that the gates of hell shall never prevail against the Church is
primarily given to the Church-Catholike visible here on earth”.129 All par-
ticular churches derive their power and rights from that Catholic Church.130
Edmund Calamy described Hudson’s argument in logical terms: “if
there be a Church-Catholike visible, and this Church be not onely a Church-
Entitive but a Church-Organical, and a Totum Integrale, having all Church-
power habitually seated in the Officers of it.” These officers are part of
particular congregations, and these “congregations are integral parts and
members of the Church-Catholike, as the Jewish Synagogues were of the
Jewish Church. And if the Ministry, Ordinances, and censures were given
by Christ to the Church-general-visible,” then Calamy concluded, “the
particular church is not the first receptacle of church power”.131 In this re-
gard, Hudson could see common ground with John Norton, who in his
response to Apollonius published by the Apologists and Cotton, argued that
the “Church Catholik is an integral […] and that the particular churches are
similar parts of that integral.” Indeed, Norton conceded “Political visibility
is an adjunct in respect of the Church Catholick.”132 This may indicate an-
other difference within congregational groups. Samuel Stone, for example,
argued that the “catholike” church was not integral and was actually a spe-
cies of the particular church, and the particular church was the genus.133
What is important to emphasize on this point, is that while Calamy agreed
that the particular church was not entirely independent in terms of church
government, he refused to say whether he believed, like Hudson, the par-
—————
128
Ibid., 25.
129
Hudson, A vindication of The essence and unity of the Church Catholike visible, 220.
130
For all of Hudson’s arguments in favor of this position see, 25ff.
131
Hudson, A vindication of The essence and unity of the Church Catholike visible, to the
reader.
132
Ibid., preface, not paginated. Cotton had a similar view that Hudson cited. Ibid., 51–52; J.
Cotton, A brief exposition of the whole book of Canticles, or Song of Solomon; lively describing
the estate of the church in all the ages thereof, both Jewish and Christian, to this day: and
modestly pointing at the gloriousnesse of the restored estate of the church of the Iewes and the
happy accesse of the gentiles, in the approaching daies of reformation, when the wall of partition
shall bee taken away. A work very usefull and seasonable to every Christian; but especially such
as endeavour and thirst after the setling of church and state, according to the rule and pattern of
the Word of God (London, 1642), 191.
133
Stone, A congregational church is a catholike visible church, cha 5, reason 6.
—————
134
Hudson, A vindication of The essence and unity of the Church Catholike visible, To the
reader.
135
Hudson, Essence and unitie, 18.
136
Ibid., 19.
137
Lightfoot, Journal, 215.
138
Ibid., 215. This once again indicates Goodwin was using his personal Assembly notes
when writing his Government of the Churches of Christ.
139
Ibid., 216; Paul, The Assembly of the Lord, 313; For more on Rutherford’s view of the
Universal church, 289ff.
—————
140
Rutherford, Peaceable plea, 3.
141
Norton, Answer, 79
On 1 November, Bridge, who had been sick the day before, requested that
“church” be added to the proposition voted in the day before, thereby ad-
justing the proposition to mean the keys were “given to Peter & apostles
with the church.”142 Stephen Marshal retorted, rather naively given what had
just transpired over the preceding three days, “Whether the church did re-
ceive it is yet a question undebated.”143 Charles Herle had echoed this con-
cern when he warned the Assembly against over application of the terms
Brownism and separatists, simply because Peter received the keys on behalf
of believers. Herle had noted that “many of the fathers & schoolmen have
understood it thus & yet are far from anarchy.”144 Bridge desisted from
pushing a debate. Therefore, what these keys were, what their functions
were, and in what sense the Apostles received them, and how they con-
cerned the church, were questions left entirely unanswered.
In the Apologist’s mind, and indeed to many in the Assembly, discuss-
ing Matthew 16:19 without any reference to the church, seemed extraordi-
nary in the history of exegesis. Time and again in the debates, although the
proposition dealt only with the Apostles, the members kept bringing up the
church. Many in the Assembly failed to see any precedent for limiting
Mathew 16:19 to Seaman’s proposition. Simpson tried to warn the Assem-
bly that it would be outside the reformed tradition to use Matthew 16:19 to
prove Peter as an apostle excluding the church. He cited Gerhard, who said
“from the time of Christ that 16 Math [was] understood as concerning the
church in all ages.”145 Gerhard himself had argued “that unto the Church
[Christ] hath given the keys the kingdom of heaven.”146 Cornelius Burgess,
knowing Gerhard’s wide influence regarding the power of the local church,
quickly dismissed this statement with, “We are not to look at what Gerrard
hath affirmed but never proved”.147 We have already noted that Fulke inter-
preted Matthew 16:19 to mean that the Christ gave the keys to Peter, and
after him both to the Apostles and to the church. Whitaker, summarized
Augustine, “that in Peter [the church] did receive [the keyes] properly,
truely, and more principally than Peter himself.”148 We have already noted
—————
142
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 233.
143
Ibid., 233.
144
Ibid., 233.
145
Ibid., 218. Probably, J. Gerhard, Confessionis Catholicae, 4 vols. (1634), vol.1, 326–329;
bk 2, art. 3, ch. 9 in vol. 2, 922–3. I am grateful to Dr. Chad van Dixhoorn for allowing me to use
this citation.
146
Gerhard, The Summe of Christian doctrine, 255.
147
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 218.
148
Cited in J. Cotton, The Way of Congregational Churches Cleared: In two Treatises. In the
former, from the historical aspersions of Mr. Robert Baylie, in his book, called A Disswasive from
the Errors of the Time. In the latter, from some contradictions of Vindicæ [sic] Clavium [by
the Sorbonnists of Paris who believed that the church, upon Peter’s confes-
sion was the first subject of all church power, as did the German catholic
John Wild (Ferus).149 If we look at the Dutch annotations on the whole
Bible, written as a result of the Synod of Dort, we see that “upon Peter’s
confession […] power is given also given to the Church […] and to all the
Apostles.”150 Theodore Beza’s annotations stated that Peter’s confession “is
the churches as well as his” and the keyes were given to “ministers of the
word”, but there is no mention of the Apostles.151
What was clear was that the congregationalists had lost a debate that
centred on the most fundamental tenet of their polity. The Apologists’ fears
were not unfounded. Within two years the London presbyterians were
claiming that the “keyes” only belonged to elders, and thus “the Keyes of
the Kingdom of Heaven, with all their Acts, were immediately committed
to Church-guides, viz. to the Apostles and to their successors to the end of
the world; Math. 16.19 and 18.18.”152 The problem was never whether the
elders received authorial power of the keys, but it was how that power was
connected to, and in the context of, the particular church. Hence the ability
to argue for congregational power on the basis of Matthew 18:18 was se-
verely curtailed due to the constraints placed on Matthew 16:19. It was not
that the Apologists disagreed with ministers receiving unique ministerial
keys, it was the fact that the proposition and proof text might result in neu-
tering power in the church. This account also indicates how important care-
ful ecclesiological distinctions are when engaging these debates. Both
Robert S. Paul and J. R. De Witt claimed that Seaman accused the “inde-
pendents” of being “Brownists”.153 Yet Seaman clearly stated that “here
hath been none of the opinions [of] the Brownists.”154 Paul and De Witt
have collapsed Seaman’s following comment, that “not one argument used
—————
Daniel Cawdrey]: And from, some mis-constructions of learned Mr Rutherford in his book
intituled The Due Right of Presbyteries (London, 1648), vol. 2, 31.
149
Cotton cites Ferus’ commentary on Matthew 16. Likely from J. Wild, In sacrosanctum
Iesu Christi domini nostri Euangelium secundum Matthæum, piæ ac eruditæ iuxta catholicam &
ecclesiasticam doctrinam enarrationes / Per fratrem Ioannem Ferum, summæ Moguntiæ ædis
concionatorem. Cum indice locupletissimo, recèns adiecto (1577), 48–56. Cited in Cotton, The
Way of Congregational Churches Cleared, 31.
150
Haak, The Dutch Annotations, Matt 16:18–19.
151
The New Testament of our Lord Iesus Christ, translated out of Greeke by Theod. Beza,
whereunto are adioyned briefe summaries of doctrine vpon the Euangelistes and Actes of the
Apostles, together with the methode of the Epistles of the Apostles, by the said Theod. Beza : and
also short expositions on the phrazes and hard places, taken out of the large annotations of the
foresaid authour, and Ioach. Camerarius, by Loseler. Villerius / Englished by L. Tomson,
whereunto is adioyned a concordance or table made after the order of the alphabet, conteining the
principall both wordes and matters, which are comprehended in the Newe Testament, (1582), 25.
152
Jus divinum regiminis ecclesiastici, 181.
153
De Witt, Jus divinum, 70; Paul, The Assembly of the Lord, 152.
154
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 4 Sept. to 17 Nov. 1643”, 230.
power as being generated from two opposing theological starting points that
would have practical implications for how the national church would be
designed. Even here, the congregationalists were the middle-way men.
3.8 Conclusion
This was a pyrrhic victory for the various English presbyterian polities who
were coalescing to form a majority for practical purposes. Indeed, reading
the debates over excommunication almost exactly a year later, in October
1644 when a presbyterian settlement was a foregone conclusion, we can see
how this unresolved issue continued to complicate debates about power in
the particular church. Edmund Calamy wrote: “The 16 Math. gives the
power of the keyes to the apostles; true is it alone?”158 In that debate,
Calamy had become concerned that the Assembly had given power to the
Apostles at the expense of the church. Citing the case of discipline by the
church of Corinth, Calamy stated, “in this text [excommunication] was an
act of the Church of Corinth. If Jesus Christ did give the power to the
church, I see not by what authority they could doe it alone; any one apostle
is not a church”.159
Thus, the month of October 1643 enables us to see the uniquely English
complexities of ecclesiological debates. The English presbyterians, if any-
thing, demonstrate ambivalence in the Apologists positions on the keys. For
the congregational divines the debate represented one of the two most con-
sequential debates in the Assembly. Not having sorted out what the keys
were and who could use them, along with initially avoiding the question of
a platform of church government, the congregationalists were outmanoeu-
vred. The presbyterians knew that codifying a platform of church gov-
ernment would have only crystallized their own differences. Thus the typi-
cal pamphlet critique outside the Assembly, that the Apologists feared that
a platform would divide the independents in England, was actually true of
the presbyterians in the Assembly.
—————
158
Van Dixhoorn, “Westminster Assembly Minutes, 12 April 1644 to 15 Nov. 1644”, 428.
159
Ibid., 426.
Crawford Gribben
4.1 Introduction
appear, as he did after his Resurrection: And some, That he will Rule there
only by Reforming Christian Princes”); the number of millennia to be ex-
pected (“some hold but one Thousand years, and some two”); and the rela-
tion of the millennium to the last judgement (“some say, That the Day of
Judgement is the Thousand years […] and some, that it is only the Begin-
ning and the End of the Thousand years, that the Judgement will take up,
and the rest will be in other Government”).2 After a century of discussion,
one recent commentator has noted, “no consensus had […] been achieved
concerning whether the golden age would be literal or spiritual, in heaven
or on earth, or, indeed, about whether the millennium was to occur in the
past, present, or future.”3 But, Baxter complained, this did not put an end to
the doctrine of the millennium: “Other differences seem almost reconciled
to some, by the bare name of a Thousand years Reign.”4
Baxter’s concerns highlighted one of the most significant novelties of
the theological cultures of seventeenth-century Britain. It was in eschatol-
ogy that early modern British Reformed orthodox theologians displayed
their greatest exegetical and applicatory variety. It was in their maintaining
of millennial theories that they displayed greatest difference from the six-
teenth-century confessions they had inherited and from their European
contemporaries. It was in their constructions of millennial theories that
authors from within the Reformed orthodox tradition drew on their widest
range of source materials, including materials that ranged far beyond the
boundaries of the biblical canon. And it was in their expression of millen-
nial theories that these authors engaged most robustly, and sometimes most
violently, with the world in which they lived.5
Eschatology, in general, and millennialism, in particular, must therefore
be central to any discussion of the “diversity of tradition” among seven-
teenth-century British Reformed orthodox authors; and yet a study of the
millennial theories produced by these authors will make problematic the
notion of the “orthodoxy” and the singular “tradition” they might be be-
lieved to share. Seventeenth-century British Reformed orthodox writers
found in their discussions of millennial theories a liberty of conviction and
expression that challenges easy assumptions of their unity and their Biblical
or confessional limitations. But these theories demonstrated that these
—————
2
Richard Baxter, The Glorious Kingdom of Christ, Described and Clearly Vindicated (1691),
9–10.
3
Reiner Smolinksi, “Caveat Emptor: Pre- and postmillennialism in the late reformation pe-
riod,” in James E. Force and Richard H. Popkin (eds), Millenarianism and Messianism in Early
Modern European Culture: The Millenarian Turn (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers,
2001), 145–69, 147.
4
Baxter, The Glorious Kingdom of Christ, 9–10.
5
See Crawford Gribben, The Puritan Millennium: Literature and Theology, 1550–1682
(Dublin: Four Courts, 2000), passim.
By the end of the sixteenth century, the European Reformed churches were
united in their rejection of an earthly millennial hope.6 But their consensus
was rapidly overturned. The rise of a millennial tradition among the Re-
formed churches began its consolidation in a series of texts so advanced in
their revisionary instincts that they were not published in England until
several decades after their author’s death. Apocalypsis apocalypseos
(Frankfurt, 1609), translated as A revelation of the Apocalyps (Amsterdam,
1611), was prepared by Thomas Brightman (1562–1607), a former fellow
of Queen’s College, Cambridge with a penchant for Presbyterian polemic.7
Brightman’s writing reacted to the “hoch pot luckwarmnesse” of the Eng-
lish church, governed, as he complained, by bishops who “love riches and
honor so dearely, that they content themselvs with the losse of a full Ref-
ormation.”8 His exegesis of Revelation 20:1–10 decisively broke with the
Augustinian and reformation confessional traditions, and took the radical
step of arguing that the passage referred to two periods of one thousand
years each, only one of which had been completely fulfilled in the past. The
first of these periods (Rev 20:1–3) had begun in or around 304 and ended in
1300, after which the release of Satan had been made evident by the Islamic
invasions of Europe. The second period of one thousand years (Rev 20:4–
10) had begun with the revival of true theology at the reformation – a re-
vival Brightman identified as the “first resurrection.” This beginning of the
saints’ rule with Christ would, he believed, result in a “global Presbyterian
utopia.”9 But Brightman also expected the fulfillment of eschatological
events in the near future. In 1650, he predicted, the power of the Turkish
empire and the Roman Catholic Church would fragment and the national
conversion of the Jews would begin. By the end of the century, European
protestants would enjoy “a most happy tranquility [...] the joy will be so
much that it will be strange and unexpected: for in place of former troubles,
there will be perpetual peace, & then Kings and Queens will be nursing
—————
6
For an account of the origins and development of evangelical millennial belief, see Crawford
Gribben, Evangelical Millennialism in the trans-Atlantic world, 1500–2000 (New York: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2011).
7
On Brightman, see Andrew Crome, “The Jews and the literal sense: Hermeneutical
approaches in the apocalyptic commentaries of Thomas Brightman (1562–1607)” (unpublished
PhD thesis, University of Manchester, 2009).
8
[Anon.], Reverend Mr. Brightmans judgement (1642), sig. A2v–A3r.
9
Oxford DNB, s.v.
fathers, and nursing mothers unto the Christian Churches.”10 And by 2300,
he concluded, the church’s enemies would be finally destroyed and the
eternal age would commence. In Brightman’s own day, these events ap-
peared to be far in the future. His work fell victim to censorship laws while
European protestants found themselves engaged in a bloody struggle for
survival. Nevertheless, his writing was influential long before its first Eng-
lish publication in 1641.11 For many of his readers, Brightman would be-
come the “English Prophet,” the “famous prophet of these times,” whose
books made sense of the future.12
The broad outline of Brightman’s exegesis of Revelation 20:1–10 was
confirmed historically by the Irish scholar and churchman James Ussher
(1581–1656). Ussher, a professor of theology at Trinity College Dublin
who was later to become archbishop of Armagh, was one of the towering
intellectual figures of his day, whose “fascination with history, chronology
and the ages of Satan, the Beast […] was an effort to justify the reformation
movement on a historical-theological basis.”13 He was extremely widely
read, and an avid book collector, and drove initiatives to enlarge the college
library, in which Brightman’s works were early represented.14 In 1613, the
same year in which Brightman’s Apocalypsis apocalypseos appeared,
Ussher published his own first book, Gravissimae quaestionis de Chris-
tianarum ecclesiarum successione et statu, a long and ultimately incom-
plete account of the history of the true church.15 Gravissimae quaestionis
expounded Revelation 20:1–10 to outline the course of church history and
the descent of the faith that would eventually be identified with that of the
reformation. Ussher’s historical enquiry was rooted in his exegesis of the
thousand-year binding of Satan, which, following Brightman, he referred to
two distinct periods of one thousand years each. He defined the first of
these millennia as that in which Satan was “restrained [from] procuring the
—————
10
[Anon.], Reverend Mr. Brightmans judgement, sig. A4r.
11
Crawford Gribben, “The Church of Scotland and the English apocalyptic imagination,
1630–1650,” Scottish Historical Review 88:1 (2009), 34–56.
12
Thomas Brightman, A most comfortable exposition of [...] Daniel, 895; The art of self-
deniall: or, A Christian’s first lesson: By that famous Prophett of these times: Tho: Brightman
(1646).
13
Phil Kilroy, “Sermon and pamphlet literature in the Irish Reformed Church, 1613–34,” Ar-
chivium Hibernicum 33 (1975), 117.
14
Elizabethanne Boran, “The libraries of Luke Challoner and James Ussher, 1595–1608,” in
Helga Robinson-Hammerstein (ed.), European universities in the age of reformation and counter-
reformation (Dublin: Four Courts, 1998), 98–102.
15
The text was translated into English by Ambrose Ussher, James’ brother, and English
quotations will be taken from this unpaginated translation, Trinity College Library, Dublin, MS
2940.
—————
16
James Ussher, The whole works of James Ussher, ed. C.R. Erlington and J.R. Todd, 17 vol.
(Dublin: Hodges and Smith, 1847–64), 2:ix: “ligatum dici Satanum, quando ab universali seduc-
tione procuranda est cohibitus.”
17
Ussher, Works, 2:6: “Satanum ligatum asserit, ne persecutionibus amplius noceret Ecclesiæ:
a Constantini videlicet Imperatoris temporibus, a quo sublatæ persecutiones, usque ad annum
Domini 1300. quo Turcicum imperium in Ottomanno coepit.”
18
Ussher, Works, 2:6: “ubi status Millenarii illius, in quo vinctus erat Satanas, describitur, ex-
pressa mentio fit eorum qui securi percussi sunt propter testimonium Jesu, et propter sermonem
Dei.”
19
Ussher, Works, 11:417.
20
Ussher, Works, 2:163–4: “Universa sanctorum abscondetur Ecclesia. Ha enim electi Dei sa-
pient sibi ipsis id, quod sapient; ut tamen prædicare publice (prævalentibus tenebris) non præsu-
mant. Non quod animare fideles et secretius exhortari desistant, sed quod prædicare publice non
audebunt.”
21
Ussher, Works, 2:xi: “Pars tertia, deo volente, subsequeter: in qua agendum de statu rerum
ab initio pontificatus Gregorii XI. usque ad initium pontificatus Leonis X. id est [...] De nova
ligatione Satanæ per Evangelii restaurationem sub medium secundi millenari exiguo tempore fieri
coepta.”
crisis, were already experiencing the conditions of the millennium, and their
martyrdoms were the proof of his claim.
Ussher was never able fully to outline this radical re-thinking of evan-
gelical eschatological expectations, for the third part of his book, addressing
the period after 1370, was never published. It was not that he lost interest in
the subject, for his doctoral oration, also delivered in 1613, addressed the
“reign of the saints” in Revelation 20:4. Ussher resumed his research for the
third part of Gravissimae quaestionis but felt increasingly constrained by
the changing theological environment of the English court. As late as 1625,
his book agent, Thomas James, reported that he was continuing to search
for “helps necessary for the forwarding so great work,” but he found that
his efforts were being stymied by those who should have been his allies.22
This new atmosphere had been evidenced in the publication of Richard
Montagu’s A gagg for the new gospel? No: a new gagg for an old goose
(1624), the first printed English denial of the reformation axiom that the
Antichrist could be identified in the papacy.23 Those holding to traditional
evangelical convictions found themselves increasingly sidelined within the
English church, eclipsed by representatives of the newly fashionable party
of sacramental revisionists associated with William Laud, the newly ap-
pointed archbishop of Canterbury. Ussher opted for strategic silence, and
sought to consolidate his eschatological interests by attempting to recruit
one of Europe’s leading millennial theorists as provost of Trinity College.
But others refused to be silent. The re-reading of Revelation 20:1–10 to
which both Ussher and Brightman had contributed was confirmed in a
series of significant European publications, some of which moved beyond
their conclusions to push the church’s golden age entirely into the future.
Johannes Piscator (1546–1625), a professor at Herborn, one of the most
important centres of European Reformed theology, had defended the notion
of an entirely future millennium in a brief note in his German Bible transla-
tion (1604), but outlined his convictions in greater detail with the publica-
tion of In Apocalypsin commentarius (Herborn, 1613), a text reprinted in
his Commentarii in omnes libros Novi Testamenti (Herborn, 1621).24 The
commentary staggered many of its early readers and provoked outrage
across the Lutheran and German Reformed world. In response, David Pa-
reus (1548–1622), a professor at Heidelberg and Piscator’s only rival as the
most important of the German Reformed theologians, published his own
—————
22
Ussher, Works, 15:264.
23
Anthony Milton, Catholic and Reformed: The Roman and protestant churches in English
protestant thought, 1600–1640 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 112.
24
Das ander Thäil Des Newen Testaments I Darinnen [...] Die Episteln [...] und die
Offenbarung S. Johannis, trans. and annotated by Johannes Piscator (Herborn, 1604), 451; Howard
Hotson, Johann Heinrich Alsted, 1588–1638: Between Renaissance, Reformation and Universal
Reform (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2000), 208.
—————
25
Hotson, Johann Heinrich Alsted, 212–14.
26
Hotson, Johann Heinrich Alsted, 130–131.
27
R. B. Barnes, Prophecy and gnosis: Apocalypticism in the wake of the Lutheran
reformation (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1988).
28
Graeme Murdock, Calvinism on the frontier, 1600–1660: International Calvinism and the
Reformed Church in Hungary and Transylvania (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2000), 268–70.
29
Crome, “The Jews and the literal sense: Hermeneutical approaches in the apocalyptic
commentaries of Thomas Brightman (1562–1607),” passim.
—————
35
Ussher, Works, 15:407.
36
Ussher, Works, 15: 561; R. G. Clouse, “The rebirth of millenarianism,” in Peter Toon (ed.),
Puritans, the millennium and the future of Israel: Puritan eschatology, 1600 to 1660 (Cambridge:
James Clarke, 1970), 60.
37
Mede, The key of the Revelation, sig. av.
38
Mede, The key of the Revelation, sig. a4v.
—————
39
Stephen J. Stein, “Editor’s introduction,” in Jonathan Edwards, Apocalyptic writings, ed.
Stephen J. Stein, The Works of Jonathan Edwards (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1977),
5, 8; John Stuart Erwin, “Like a thief in the night: Cotton Mather’s millennialism” (unpublished
PhD thesis, Indiana University, 1987).
40
Gribben, “The Church of Scotland and the English apocalyptic imagination, 1630–1650,”
34–56.
41
Katherine Firth, The apocalyptic tradition in reformation Britain, 1530–1645 (Oxford: Ox-
ford University Press, 1979), 5.
—————
42
A. R. Dallison, “Contemporary criticism of millenarianism,” in Peter Toon (ed.), Puritans,
the millennium and the future of Israel: Puritan eschatology, 1600 to 1660 (Cambridge: James
Clarke, 1970), 111; John Bunyan, Works, ed. George Offor (Glasgow: Blackie and Son, 1860), ii.
424; Saul Leeman, “Was Bishop Ussher’s chronology influenced by a midrash?” Semeia 8 (1977),
127; Ussher, Works, vii. 45.
43
Milton, Catholic and Reformed, 93–127.
44
For Ussher’s influence on the Irish Articles, see Amanda L. Capern, “The Caroline Church:
James Ussher and the Irish Dimension,” Historical Journal 39 (1996), 57–85.
45
Westminster Confession of Faith 25:6.
46
Milton, Catholic and Reformed, 128–72.
47
George Gillespie, A treatise of miscellany questions (1649); rpt. in The Presbyterian’s ar-
moury, ed. W.M. Hetherington (Edinburgh: Robert Ogle, and Oliver & Boyd, 1846), 27.
period. Some of these premillennialists were not slow to realize that their
position actually demanded two future comings of Christ. For some, no
doubt, this proved embarrassing, but others were keen to capitalize on the
novelty. John Archer, in 1643, made the point with some force: “Christ hath
three comings,” he declared; “the first was when he came to take our nature,
and make satisfaction for sin. The second is, when hee comes to receive his
Kingdome; [...] A third is, that when hee comes to judge all, and end the
world: the latter commings are two distinct commings.”53 Not many of his
premillennial brethren were as emphatic. Other postmillennial theologians
postulated a more gradual movement into the new age, as increasingly
reformed societies paved the way for Christ’s return after the millennium.
Some of these theorists called for radical intervention in the political status
quo – the Fifth Monarchists engaged in a series of violent attempts to desta-
bilize successive governments through the 1650s and early 1660s, for ex-
ample – but others assumed a much more obviously divine movement in the
conditions of the new age.54
The existence of this debate as to the relationship between the second
coming and the millennium should not be understood as indicating that
these competing millennial traditions had become clearly distinguished. The
discussion has become particularly pointed as scholars have sought to de-
fine the eschatological teaching of the most important seventeenth-century
creedal statement in the trans-Atlantic world, the Westminster Confession
of Faith (1647). Modern scholars have struggled to reach consensus on the
significance of its teaching. R. G. Clouse argued that the Confession is
“clearly” amillennial;55 LeRoy Froom viewed the Confession as “the
strongest premillennialist symbol of Protestantism”;56 and James de Jong
argued that its statements “must be seen as a deliberate choice of mild,
unsystemized, postmillennial expectations.”57 But, recognizing the fluidity
and occasional obscurity of early modern evangelical discourses, we should
not impose a-, pre- or postmillennial paradigms without proper qualifica-
tion. There was significant latitude both between and within these compet-
ing positions as they continued to be defined throughout this period.
—————
53
John Archer, The personall reigne of Christ upon Earth (1643), 15.
54
B. S. Capp, The Fifth Monarchy Men: A Study in Seventeenth-century Millenarianism
(London: Faber and Faber, 1972), passim .
55
Clouse, “The rebirth of millenarianism,” 60.
56
L. E. Froom, The prophetic faith of our fathers: The historical development of Prophetic In-
terpretation (Washington: Review and Herald, 1948), ii. 553.
57
James de Jong, As the waters cover the sea: Millennial expectations in the rise of Anglo-
American Missions, 1640–1810 (Kampen: Kok, 1970), 38 n. 11. Along with the above texts,
important studies of puritan eschatology include William Lamont, Godly rule: Politics and Relig-
ion, 1603–60 (London: Macmillan, 1969); idem, Richard Baxter and the millennium; Capp, The
Fifth Monarchy Men; Christianson, Reformers and Babylon; Firth, The apocalyptic tradition in
reformation Britain; John Coffey, Politics, religion and the British revolutions: The mind of
Samuel Rutherford (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).
4.4 Conclusion
—————
58
W. J. Van Asselt, “Chiliasm and Reformed eschatology in the seventeenth and eighteenth
centirues,” in A. van Egmond and D. van Keulen (ed.), Christian hope in context, Studies in
Reformed Theology 4 (Zoetermeer: Meinema, 2001), 24. Cocceius would also argue for seven
dispensations in redemptive history; W. J. Van Asselt, “Structural elements in the eschatology of
Johannes Cocceius,” Calvin Theological Journal 34 (1999), 76–104.
59
Mede, The key of the Revelation, 1:121.
60
For a discussion of the eschatological conflicts of the Westminster Assembly divines, see
Gribben, The puritan millennium, 105–19.
theologians on both sides of the Atlantic and within and beyond the British
Reformed orthodox movement had abandoned the apocalyptic but not yet
millennial eschatological schemes proposed by the first generation of evan-
gelical scholars, and were developing theories that addressed with the ut-
most seriousness the possibility of an earthly millennial hope.
J. V. Fesko
5.1 Introduction
At first glance some might wonder why attention would be given to the
Synod of Dort, a somewhat continental affair, in a book largely devoted to
British Reformed theology.1 To borrow a turn of phrase from Tertullian,
What has Dort to do with Westminster? True, the Synod of Dort was
largely a continental event, but it had an international character. There was
an official delegation from the Church of England that participated in the
debate and work of writing and composing the Canons. Hence it should be
no surprise that the English delegation entered the fray of the debate over
supra- and infralapsarianism. So, in a word, the debates over lapsarianism
are part and parcel of the history of British Reformed theology in the seven-
teenth century.
The English delegation to Dort was appointed by King James VI (1566–
1625) to represent England and the Anglican Church. Among those ap-
pointed to represent England were Dr. George Carleton (1559–1628),
bishop of Llandaff, Dr. Joseph Hall (1574–1656), who was Dean of
Worcester, Dr. John Davenant (1572–1641), Master of Queens College in
Cambridge as well as Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity, and later would
become Bishop of Salisbury in 1621, Dr. Samuel Ward (1572–1643), a
Master of Sidney Sussex College in Cambridge as well as Archdeacon of
Taunton, Walter Balcanqual (1586–1645) of Scotland, and Thomas Goad
(1576–1638), the chaplain to Archbishop of Canterbury George Abbot
(1562–1633). Goad was not one of the originally selected theologians but
replaced Joseph Hall once the Synod was underway.2
—————
1
This essay is based upon material originally presented in J. V. Fesko, “Diversity Within the
Reformed Tradition: Infra– and Supralsarianism in Calvin, Dort, and Westminster” (Ph.D. Disser-
tation, University of Aberdeen, 1999). It has been updated and modified.
2
M. W. Dewar, “The British Delegation at the Synod of Dort—1618–19,” EQ 46/2 (1974):
105; Mark Shand, “The English Delegation to the Synod of Dordt,” British Reformed Journal 28
(1999): 37–39; Keith L. Sprunger, Keith L. Sprunger, Dutch Puritanism: A History of English and
Scottish Churches of the Netherlands in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth-Centuries (Leiden: E. J.
Brill, 1982), 355. For background information on John Davenant see Joel R. Beeke and Randall J.
Pederson, Meet the Puritans: With A Guide to Modern Reprints (Grand Rapids: Reformation
—————
8
Richard A. Muller, Dictionary of Greek and Latin Theological Terms: Drawn Principally
from Protestant Scholastic Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker, 1986), 292.
9
For a survey of the various positions see the helpful series of lectures delivered by Richard
A. Muller, “Revising the Predestination Paradigm: An Alternative to Supralapsarianism, Infralap-
sarianism, and Hypothetical Universalism,” Mid-America Fall Lecture Series, Fall 2008, Dyer,
Indiana.
10
Donald W. Sinnema, “The Issue of Reprobation at the Synod of Dort (1618–19) in Light of
the History of this Doctrine,” (Ph.D. Dissertation, University of St. Michael’s College, 1985), 214.
11
Sinnema, “Reprobation at the Synod of Dort,” 338.
—————
12
Geeraert Brandt, The History of the Reformation and Other Ecclesiastical Transactions in
and about the Low-Countries, from the Beginning of the Eighth Century, Down to the famous
Synod of Dort, 4 vol. (1720–23; London: AMS Press, 1979), 3.252; also Sinnema, “Reprobation at
the Synod of Dort,” 289.
13
John Hales, The Golden Remains of the Ever Memorable Mr. John Hales of Eton College
and Dr. Balcanquals Letters from the Synod of Dort to the R. Honourable Sir D. Carlton L.
Embassador (London: Printed for Tim Garthwait, 1659), 20. Note, all archaic spelling through the
essay has been updated. John Hales, and later Walter Balcanqual were given the task of making
reports to the English ambassador in Holland during the Synod of Dort. John Hales reported on the
proceedings of Dort until 2 February 1619 when Balcanqual assumed the reporting duties; Balcan-
qual’s letters begin a new series of pagination, though his work comes after Hales.
14
Hales, Golden Remains, 20.
15
Acta Synodi Nationalis, In nomine Domini nostri Iesu Christi, Autoritate Illustr. et Praepo-
tentum DD. Ordinum Generalium Foederati Belgii Provinciarum, Dordrechti, Habitae Anno
MDCXVIII et MDCXIX. Accedunt Plenisima, de Quinque Articulis, Theologorum Judicia
(Dordrechti: Typis Isaaci Elzeviri, Academiae Typographi, Societatis Dordrechtanae Sumptibus,
1620): “Praedestinatio ad salutem est aeternum, liberrimum et immutabile Dei decretum, quo pro
gratuito voluntatis suae beneplacito quosdam homines ex universo genere humano in peccatum
—————
prolapso ac perdito ad salutem in Christo elegit, eosdemque secundum suam electionem per
verbum ac spiritum suum efficaciter vocare, per fidem in Christum justificare, sanctificare, in fide
ac sanctitate conservare, et tandem glorificare constituit, ad divitis suaegratiaeac misericordiae
demonstrationem. Atque hoc est, de certis quibusdam hominibus in Christo et per Christum
salvandis, verum, unicum et totum Electionis decretum” (III.3). They cite the following Scripture:
Matt 25.34; John 10.29; 17.11; Rom 8.29–30; 9.11, 15, 18, 22–24; 11.5, 28–29; Eph 1.5, 11; 2
Thess 2.13; 1 Pet 1.2.
16
Acta Synodi, III.3: “ex universo genere humano in peccatum prolapso ac perdito.”
17
Acta Synodi, III.8–9: “Reprobatio est liberrimum ac iustissimum Dei decretum, quo statuit
quosdam homines ex genere humano in peccatum prolapso, non eligere in Christo, nec eadem
Spiritus sui efficacia, qua electos, ex statu suaeperditionis vocare, ut eos justificet et glorificet, sed
eos in suis ipsorum vijs finit incedere, ac veritatem ipsius in injustitia detinentes, vel Evangelium
ipsis praedicatum diversiis modis ac gradibus reijcientes, atque in suis peccatis iuste induratos,
post multam suam tolerantiam merito tandem exitio adjudicare.” They cite the following Scripture
references: Psa 147.19; Matt 13.9; 11.25, 27; John 6.43; Acts 14.16; 16.6–7; 17.30; 28.24–25;
Rom 1.24, 28; 9.6, 18, 21; 11.7–8; Eph 2.1–3, 12; 4.17–18; 1 Cor 1.8; Heb 6.5–6; 10.26; 2 Thess
1.8; 2.11–12; 1 Pet 2.8.
18
Hales, Golden Remains, 21–22.
Predestination is the eternal, most free and just counsel, or purpose, by which God
from eternity for himself elected in Christ out of pure grace and mercy certain people
out of the corrupt human race and predestined them to eternal life so that he might
effectually call them in time into the communion of his Son, endow them with the
true knowledge of Jesus Christ, faith and repentance, justify them, and lastly glorify
them to the praise of his glorious grace; some he has not elected in Jesus Christ, nor
has he predestined them to eternal life, but by his just judgment he has passed them
by in his eternal election, and has left them as vessels of wrath in sin and misery, and
on account of their own sin he will at last justly condemn them, so that he may de-
clare his mercy in the elect and his justice in the non-elect.19
Again, Lubbertus defines the object of election and reprobation as homo
creatus et lapsus when he notes that people are predestined “out of the
corrupt human race.” Gomarus stood up again and agreed with his col-
league, but he made the same exception as before: he disagreed over the
object of predestination. With his objection noted, Gomarus proceeded to
give his own verdict upon the first article.
Gomarus delivered his verdict which included the following definition
on predestination: “The predestination of man to salvation is the decree of
God, concerning his glory and grace which suffice for salvation, and effec-
tually accomplish it, to be bestowed upon certain men out of the whole
human race in accordance with his most free, pure, and unmerited good
pleasure.”20 On reprobation Gomarus argues: “Final reprobation is the de-
cree of God, by which, according to his most free will and for the declara-
tion of his vindicating justice, he has determined not to give grace or glory
to certain men out of the whole human race, but permit them to fall freely
into sin and leave them in their sin, and at last justly condemn them on
account of their sin.”21 At first glance it does not appear that Gomarus’
definitions greatly differ from those of his colleagues. In general, it is true
—————
19
Acta Synodi, III.11: “Praedestinatio est aeternum, liberrimum, et iustum consilium sive pro-
positum, quo Deus sibi ab aeterno ex corrupto humano genere aliquos ex mera gratia et misericor-
dia in Christo Iesu elegit, et ad vitam aeternam praedestinavit, ut eos in tempore efficaciter vocaret
ad communionem Filii sui, vera cognitione Iesu Christi, fide et resipiscentia donaret, justificaret,
ac tandem glorificaret ad laudem gloriosaesuaegratiae; aliquos non elegit in Iesu Christo, neque ad
vitam aeternam praedestinavit, sed justo suo judicio in aeterna electione praeteriit, et tanquam vasa
iraein peccatis et miseria reliquit, eosque tandem propter peccata ipsorum iuste condemnabit, ut in
illis suam misericordiam, in his suam justitiam declaret.”
20
Acta Synodi, III.21: “Praedestinatio hominis ad salutem est decretum Dei, de gloria et gratia
ad salutem sufficiente, et efficaciter perficiente, certis, ex universo genere humano, hominibus, pro
liberrimo ac mere gratuito beneplacito, conferenda.” Gomarus offers the following in support of
his definition: 2 Thess 2.13; Rom 8.28–30; Phil 2.13; and Eph 1.6.
21
Acta Synodi, III.24: “Reprobatio peremptoria est decretum Dei, quo, pro voluntate sua liber-
rima, ad declarationem iustitiaesuaevindicantis, certos ex humano universo genere homines, nec
gratia nec gloria donare, sed in peccatum libere prolabi permittere et in peccatis relinquere, iuste-
que tandem propter peccata condemnare constituit.” He offered the following references in support
of his definition: Matt 11.26; 7.23; John 6.44–65; 10.26; Rom 11.7–8; Rev 20.13; 9.18, 20–22.
—————
22
Hales, Golden Remains, 21–22; Brandt, History of the Reformation, 3.252.
23
Hales, Golden Remains, 20.
24
Hales, Golden Remains, 21–22.
25
Hales, Golden Remains, 24–25; Brandt, History of the Reformation, 3.254–55.
When the English delegation delivered their verdict upon the first arti-
cle, they defined predestination and reprobation in the following manner:
“The decree of election, or predestination to salvation, is the efficacious
will of God, by which according to his good pleasure, for the purpose of
demonstrating his mercy, he planned the salvation of fallen man, and pre-
pared such means, by which he willed to bring the elect effectually and
infallibly to that end.”26 On the subject of reprobation, they determined:
“Reprobation properly called, or non-election, is the eternal decree of God,
by which he determined by his most free will not to have mercy upon cer-
tain persons fallen in Adam.”27 The English delegation in both definitions
specified that both those subject to election and reprobation were people
already fallen into sin. The reason the English delegation was very specific
on this point was due to the instructions they received when they were sent
to participate in the Synod. They were instructed not to commit the Church
of England to any new doctrinal positions and to remain firmly within the
confines of the Thirty-Nine Articles. The members of the English delega-
tion, therefore, cited not only their delivered verdict upon the first article,
but they also brought out the Thirty-Nine Articles and read from the seven-
teenth article. Balcanqual writes: “So D. Goad read publicly the 17 article
of the confession where the words are quosdam ex humano genere, in exitio
et maledicto, which last words Gomarus had left out.”28
Gomarus explained that he had misunderstood the confession and would
willingly submit himself to the judgment of the Synod for his error. Goma-
rus, however, went on to explain that the reason he mistakenly thought that
the Church of England had not decided on the object of predestination was
because he thought that William Perkins (1558–1602) and William Whi-
taker (1548–95), two fellow supralapsarians, would not be in conflict with
the confession of the church. Additionally, he continued to argue that the
University of Leiden, for example, had never decided that the object of
predestination was homo creatus et lapsus. For these reasons, he thought it
—————
26
Acta Synodi, II. 3: “Decretum Electionis, seu Praedestinationis ad salutem, est efficax vol-
untas Dei, qua pro suo beneplacito, ad demonstrationem suaemisericordiae, salutem hominis lapsi
intendit, eique media talia praeparavit, quibus electos ad istum finem, efficaciter et infallibiliter
perducere voluit.” They cite the following: Ps 113; Isa 47.14; Matt 13.11; John 6.39, 37; Rom
8.30; 9.18, 23; Eph 1.4, 11; 1 Tim 1.15; 2 Tim 1.9; 2 Thess 2.13.
27
Acta Synodi, II.11: “Reprobatio proprie dicta, seu non-electio, est aeternum Dei decretum,
quo statuit, proliberrima sua voluntate, quarundam personarum in Adamo lapsarum, non […]
misereri.” They cite the following: John 10.26; Rom 6.21; 9.11, 15ff, 21.
28
Hales, Golden Remains, 24–25; edited spelling. The seventeenth article reads: “Predestina-
tion to Life is the everlasting purpose of God, whereby (before the foundations of the world were
laid) he hath constantly decreed by his counsel secret to us, to deliver from curse and damnation
those whom he hath chosen in Christ out of mankind [eos quos in Christo elegit ex hominum
genere, a maledicto et exitio liberare], and to bring them by Christ to everlasting salvation, as
vessels made to honour” (Philip Schaff, The Creeds of Christendom, 3 vol. [London: Hodder &
Stoughton, 1877], 3.497).
—————
36
Gomarus, Opera, 428b: “Figulis ille stultus merito censeretur, qui decerneret vasis effec-
tionem primum, deinde de fine cogitaret. Quod absurdum, ut in figulum sapientem non cadit: ita
multo minus in Deum ipsum, sapientiaeet ordinis certi fontem unicum.” Cf. Brandt, History of the
Reformation, 3.254.
37
Gomarus, Opera, 426b: “Deinde quia magis congruit cum verbo Mosis Kytdmoh quod
propriè significat, stare te feci, seu constitui. Idcircò optimè vertit Paulus excitavi: quemamodum
idem Actor. 13.23. eadem simplici voce usus, dicit, hujus (Davidis scil.) è semine, secundum
promissionem h¡geire suscitavit, excitavit Israëli servatorem Jesum, hoc est, è semine Davidis
produxit, formavit: et Matt 3. v.9. Deus potest ex lapidibus hisce suscitare, id est, creare, formare,
filios Abrahae.”
to fall: so, things which are said, to rise up; and it is objected that this exposition does
not agree with the words of Moses, verse 15, but it most certainly agrees. God gives
in verse 16 this reason why he did not destroy Pharaoh himself, and the people,
namely because he created him, not expressly to destroy him: but, so that through his
hardness of heart, he might reveal the glory of his power.38
In other words, based upon a dissection of various linguistic and grammati-
cal points of Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and with the help of Hebrew commen-
taries, Gomarus argued that God creates the reprobate, Pharaoh in this case,
for the express purpose of demonstrating His glory through their hardness
of heart. This is why he believed the object of predestination is homo cre-
abilis et labilis. Gomarus did not end his analysis of the chapter at this
point; he goes on to explain the significance of Romans 9.21.
Gomarus comments on Romans 9.21 that he did not believe the verse
supported the infralapsarian position of homo creatus et lapsus because it
did not specifically mention this in the text. Gomarus notes: “Next, if by the
term lump, corrupt mankind is to be understood, God the potter would not
be said to make vessels, some for glory and others for shame, but from
vessels full of shame, or liable to sin and malediction, to renew certain ones
to glory, and to leave others in their own disgrace.”39 In other words, Goma-
rus contends that if the infralapsarian case for homo creatus et lapsus was
correct, Romans 9.21 might read “Or does not the potter have a right over
the [corrupted] clay, to make from the same [corrupted] lump one vessel for
honorable use, and [leave the other in corruption] for common use.” On the
contrary, Gomarus did not view the text according to the infralapsarians’
claim. He also argued that when the infralapsarians tried to support their
claim with verses such as Jeremiah 18.6, this did not refer to predestination
but instead to God’s providence over man and nations: “But it is objected
that the same sentiment which is found in Jeremiah 18.6 and following,
should be found in the same context in Paul. Nevertheless, Jeremiah does
—————
38
Gomarus, Opera, 427a: “Neque est cur objicatur, in Graeca voce, hoc locum habere posse:
sed non in Hebraea dmo: hanc enim vocem non significare existere, seu fieri, nec in conjugatione
hiphil dymoh existere facere, seu creare; qua voce Hebraeâ Moses utitur: nam contra, quod
observandum est, dmo accipitur Psal. 33.v.9. eo sensu, non pro stare; sed metaphoricè, pro oriri
atque existere: praecepit et extitit, Hebraicè est dmoyw et sic LXX. interpretes rectè verterunt, kai«
e˙kti÷sqhsan et creata sunt. Sicut etiam de creatione vel mundi, vel rerum sequentium, accipi
posse R. D. Kimchi asserit in Hebraicis suis comment. Ideoque optimè in conjugatione hiphil
dymoh stare facere, pro existere facere seu creare accipitur: ut enim quaepereunt, cadere dicuntur
metaphoricè: sic quaeoriuntur, exurgere; atque haec expositio Mosis verbis v.15 non repugnat, ut
objectatur, sed optimè convenit. Causam enim reddit Deus vers. 16 cur ipsum Pharaonem, et
populum non perdiderit, nimirum quod crearit ipsum, non ut ea ratione perderet: sed, ut in illo,
indurato, suae potentiae gloriam patefaceret.”
39
Gomarus, Opera, 428b: “Deinde si massae nomine, genus humanum corruptum intelligere-
tur, non diceretur Deus figulus vasa facere, alia ad decus, alia ad dedecus: sed ex vasis dedecore
plenis, seu peccato et maledictioni obnoxiis, quaedam ad decus renovare, quaedam in suo dedecore
relinquere.”
salvation may be considered separately,” but they “deny that on that ac-
count these acts in God’s decree are truly different.”42 They believe that
predestination may not be severed from the means of execution and there-
fore write:
When it is objected to us that ordination of means is superfluous, when the elect have
already been absolutely ordained to salvation by some antecedent act, this arises from
sheer ignorance of the orthodox view, because God never elected anyone absolutely
to salvation, if ‘absolutely’ excludes the means which God has ordained for securing
salvation. That ordination to salvation involved in God’s purpose the consideration of
the means necessary to salvation, always involved them from eternity in that very
same act.43
Hence, unlike the supralapsarians who considered the initial election and
reprobation of people apart from any consideration of means, the infralap-
sarian Dutch professors considered predestination and salvation in Christ as
a unit. Again, only homo creatus et lapsus is in need of a mediator. In con-
tradistinction to the supralapsarianism of Gomarus, the Dutch professors
have a christological focus. In Gomarus’ supralapsarianism, predestination
is an expression of God’s sovereignty, whereas in the Dutch professor’s
infralapsarianism predestination is an expression of God’s saving mercy in
Christ. For this reason the professors write: “In this decree of election we
assign first place to Christ as the head and redeemer of the Church.”44 A
second reason they argue for homo creatus et lapsus is due to various pas-
sages of Scripture.
The Dutch professors argue that virtually every passage of Scripture that
deals with predestination speaks of homo creatus et lapsus. For example,
they write:
For we are elect in Christ, so that we might be holy, Eph 1.4 and predestined to be
adopted as sons, v. 5. Therefore we were outside of Christ previously, unrighteous,
and unsuitable of the adoption of sons. We are elected unto salvation through the
sanctification of the Spirit and through faith in the truth, 2 Thess 2.12, therefore we
were previously destitute of the sanctification of the Spirit and faith in the truth.
Those whom he foreknew, he predestined to be conformed in the image of Christ, that
image of God therefore, was not in them, Rom 8.30. The elect are vessels of mercy,
just as the reprobate are vessels of wrath, Rom 9. God also exclusively pities the
wretched, just as he only demonstrates his wrath towards sinners, Rom 1.18.45
—————
42
Leiden Synopsis, XXIV.18, in Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, 171.
43
Leiden Synopsis, XXIV.19, in Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, 171–72.
44
Leiden Synopsis, XXIV.24, in Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, 168.
45
Johannes Polyander, et al., Synopsis Purioris Theologiae, ed. Herman Bavinck (Lugduni
Batavorum: Didericum Donner, 1881), XXIV, 22, (p. 226): “Electi enim sumus in Christo, ut
essemus sancti, Eph 1.4 et praedestinati in adoptionem filiorum, vers 5. ergo antea eramus extra
Christum, injusti, et ab adoptione filiorum alieni. Electi sumus ad salutem in sanctificatione
ity abuse his liberum arbitrium[.] God, in order that the more manifest way of an
admirable righteousness and mercy might be opened up, considered it more in accord
with His most almighty goodness to make well of ill, than not to let evil live, as
Augustine reminds us.47
That is to say, the infralapsarians wanted to emphasize the same glory of
God in predestination as the supralapsarians, but they did so in a different
manner. The supralapsarians believed that God’s glory is manifested in the
demonstration of mercy and justice and therefore creatures are created
towards those ends. The infralapsarians, on the other hand, believed that
God’s glory is manifested when man misuses his liberum arbitrium and
then God demonstrates his glorious mercy to some and leaves the others in
their own self-induced condition to demonstrate his justice. The question,
however, remains, What position did the Synod of Dort determine more
appropriate?
Prior to the composition of the Canons, all of the individual verdicts from
each of the delegations were read before the Synod. The foreign delegations
presented first, followed by the Dutch professors, and they were followed
by the various provincial Dutch delegations. Out of all of the verdicts deliv-
ered upon the first article concerning predestination, all but two decided for
homo lapsus as the object of election and reprobation. The two exceptions
were Gomarus, who, as previously noted, argued that man was predestined
from “the whole human race;” the second exception was the delegation
from South Holland who decided that it was not necessary to define
whether or not mankind was homo creatus et lapsus or homo creabilis et
labilis.48 What is also noteworthy is that all of the delegations, save the two
noted exceptions, spoke of reprobation in Augustinian terms of preterition,
or non-election. For example, the English delegation writes: “This non-
election, or preterition, does not presuppose some quality or other condition
in the rejected man than what is found in the elect and what is common to
the whole mass.” In fact, the English delegation delivered the only verdict
that was annotated with multiple references to the works of Augustine in
addition to multiple Scripture references.49 In other words, the Synod over-
—————
47
Leiden Synopsis, XXIV.23, as cited in Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, 158.
48
See Acta Synodi, II.1–III.89, for the various verdicts upon the first article on election and
reprobation. Also cf. Sinnema, “The Issue of Reprobation at the Synod of Dort,” 338–90, for a
thorough exposition and analysis of each individual verdict on the issue of reprobation as it relates
to the object of predestination.
49
Acta Synodi, II.11: “Haec non-electio, sive praeteritio, non praesupponit in homine
praeterito aliquam qualitatem, vel conditionem aliam, quam quaein electo reperta est, et quaetoti
—————
massaecorruptaesit communis.” The English delegation cited the following works of Augustine:
On the Predestination of the Saints, Rebuke and Grace, On the Gift of Perseverance, and Against
Julian.
50
Sinnema, “Reprobation at the Synod of Dort,” 391–92.
51
Articles of the Synod of Dort, I.1, in Schaff, Creeds, 3.581.
52
Articles of Dort, I.7; in Schaff, Creeds, 3.582; emphasis.
What peculiarly tends to illustrate and recommend to us the eternal and unmerited
grace of election is the express testimony of sacred Scripture, that not all, but some
only, are elected, while others are passed by in the eternal decree; whom God, out of
his sovereign, most just, irreprehensible and unchangeable good pleasure, hath de-
creed to leave in the common misery into which they have willfully plunged them-
selves, and not to bestow upon them saving faith and the grace of conversion; but
permitting them in his just judgment to follow their own way; at last, for the declara-
tion of his justice, to condemn and punish them forever, not only on account of their
unbelief, but also for all their sins. And this is the decree of reprobation which by no
means makes God the author of sin (the very thought of which is blasphemy), but
declares him to be an awful, irreprehensible, and righteous judge and avenger.53
The Canons, once again, maintain that homo creatus et lapsus is the object
of reprobation and that man is not reprobated by a specific separate decree.
Instead, man is “passed by in the eternal decree;” the Canons define repro-
bation in Augustinian terms of preterition. A second important point to
notice is that the Canons specifically deny that their definition makes God
the author of sin. They were very careful to place the blame for the fall and
corrupt condition of man upon man himself: “[…] into which they have
willfully plunged themselves.” Hence the Synod decided to specify in the
Canons that the object of predestination was the infralapsarian homo crea-
tus et lapsus despite the reluctance of the South-Holland delegation to de-
fine the object of predestination and Gomarus’ objections and attempts
either to have the object of predestination as homo creabilis et labilis or at
least leave the issue unspecified.54 There are several readily identifiable
reasons for this infralapsarian outcome.
First, the majority of the Dutch professors and ministerial delegates
were infralapsarians. Hence, on the first article concerning predestination,
the infralapsarians simply possessed more influence by virtue of superior
numbers.55 Additionally, members of the committee that drafted the Can-
ons, Walaeus, Polyander, and Carlton, were noted infralapsarians. A second
reason lies in the fact that the Synod’s other supralapsarians, Gisbert
Voetius (1588–1676), Johannes Bogerman and Johannes Maccovius, did
not come to the aid of their fellow colleague during the debates over infra-
—————
53
Articles of Dort, I.15; in Schaff, Creeds, 3.584; emphasis.
54
G. C. Berkouwer, Divine Election, Studies in Dogmatics, trans. Hugo Bekker (Grand Rap-
ids: Eerdmans, 1960), 264; Barth, Dogmatics, 127; J. A. Dorner, The History of Protestant Theol-
ogy Particularly in Germany, 2 vol., trans. George Robson and Sohia Taylor (Edinburgh: T & T
Clark, 1871), 1.415, 426; Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, 3 vol. (1880; Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 1993), 2.317; Èmile G. Léonard, A History of Protestantism, vol. 2, The Establishment,
trans. R. M. Bethell (London: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1967), 253; Sinnema, “Reprobation at the
Synod of Dort,” 411, 431–32.
55
W. Robert Godfrey, “Tensions Within International Calvinism: The Debate on the Atone-
ment at the Synod of Dort, 1618–1619,” (Ph.D. Dissertation, Stanford University, 1974), 268;
Schaff, Creeds, 1.513; Hodge, Systematic Theology, 2.317.
—————
56
Simon Kistemaker, “Leading Figures at the Synod of Dort,” in Crisis in the Reformed
Churches: Essays in Commemoration of the Great Synod of Dort, 1618–1619, ed. Peter Y. DeJong
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1968), 44; Schaff, Creeds, 1.513. Brandt notes about the debate with
the infralapsarians that “Gomarus and his followers said […].” yet there is no mention of any other
supralapsarians who might have assisted Gomarus by Balcanqual or Hales in their records of the
proceedings. Moreover, Brandt fails to list any other supralapsarians who might have sided with
Gomarus. Brandt, History of the Reformation, 3.254.
57
Brian G. Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy: Protestant Scholasticism and
Humanism in Seventeenth-Century France (Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press, 1969),
136.
creabilis et labilis.58 The main issue of debate from the expressed infralap-
sarian position was, How does God remain righteous in his dealings with
man if he predestines him to an end before he is considered guilty of sin?59
This question was not new to the proceedings at the Synod of Dort. The
same issue arose during the predestinarian controversy between John Calvin
(1509–64) and Jerome Bolsec (d. ca. 1584). Heinrich Bullinger (1504–75)
asked the same question of Calvin. Bullinger was afraid that Calvin inevita-
bly made God the author of sin.60 This is why Bullinger only spoke of
God’s praescientia of the fall to avoid the implication that God might be
made the author of sin. This same issue also resurfaced in the debate be-
tween Jacob Arminius (1560–1609) and Francis Junius (1545–1602): “But
according to the opinion of Calvin and Beza God is made to be necessarily
the author of sin […] they say, that ‘God ordained that man should fall and
become sinful, in order that He might in this manner open the way for His
eternal counsels.’ For he who ordains that man shall fall and sin, he is the
author of sin.” Arminius, however, also noted that he did not believe Calvin
and Theodore Beza (1519–1605) intentionally made God the author of sin,
but he thought it was the legitimate and logical conclusion of their posi-
tion.61 This historic criticism, whether right or wrong, was likely in the back
of the minds of the delegates at the Synod of Dort; it was an issue raised not
only by Arminius but also by the Remonstrants in the first of their five
articles.62 Additionally, there was a case of heresy brought before the
Synod: Johannes Maccovius, one of the professors from the University of
Franeker and a delegate, was under charges of heresy for using phrases
—————
58
Berkouwer, Divine Election, 257; Barth, Dogmatics, 127.
59
Brandt, History of the Reformation, 3.254.
60
See Cornelis P. Venema, “Heinrich Bullinger’s Correspondence on Calvin’s Doctrine of
Predestination, 1551–53,” SCJ 4 (1986): 435–50; idem, Heinrich Bullinger and the Doctrine of
Predestination: Author of ‘the Other Reformed Tradition’? (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2002), 57–62.
61
Jacob Arminius, Conference with Junius, in The Works of James Arminius, 3 vol., trans.
James Nichols and William Nichols (London: Longman, Hurst, et al., 1825–75), Prop. 6, 3.74–75;
idem, Amica Cum D. Francisco Iunio De Praedestinatione Collatio (Leiden: Apud Godefridum
Basson, 1629), 498: “At ex sententia Calvini et Bezae Deus necessario autor peccati statuitur […]
dicunt, Deum ordinasse ut homo laberetur et vitiosus fieret, quo hac ratione viam suis aeternis
consiliis patefaceret. Nam qui ordinat ut homo labatur et peccet, ille peccati auctor est.” It should
be noted that Gomarus, though a staunch supralapsarian, speaks of the fall in terms of divine
permission; he notes that God “permit them [man] to fall freely into sin and leave them in their
sin” (Acta Synodi, III.24). Bavinck makes an astute observation on this point: “Accordingly—and
fortunately!—supralapsarianism is consistently inconsistent. It starts out with a bold leap forward
but soon afterward it shrinks back and relapses into the infralapsarianism it has previously aban-
doned. Among the proponents of supralapsarianism this phenomenon is very clear. Almost all of
them were reluctant to place the decree of reprobation (in its entirety and without any restriction)
before the decree to permit sin” (Dogmatics, 2.388). Cf. Barth, Dogmatics, 28.
62
Sinnema, “Reprobation at the Synod of Dort,” 168–69.
Maccovius were brought before the Synod for examination to see whether
he was guilty of heresy. The charge that he believed that God was the
author of sin was brought to his attention, but Maccovius showed from his
writings that he wrote nothing unlike other Reformed theologians of the
past.68 A small committee was appointed to investigate the charges, and
they determined that Maccovius’ views on predestination and sin were
within the confines of orthodox Reformed theology. On the charges related
to the abuse of the scholastic method, several of the delegates, including
several of the more moderate infralapsarian English delegates, argued in
support of Maccovius’ scholastic methodology in his teaching and writing.69
William Ames, for example, worked vigorously behind the scenes to see
Maccovius exhonerated; he even offered to present a defense of Maccovius
before the Synod.70 The Synod later concluded that Maccovius’ views were
not heterodox, and they acquitted him of any charges of heresy. Maccovius,
however, was admonished on several points by the Synod. The Synod
warned Maccovius that he should not heavily rely upon scholastic language
in his teaching; instead, he should speak in the language of Scripture rather
than that of Roman Catholic theologians Robert Bellarmine (1542–1621) or
Francisco Suarez (1548–1617). Additionally, he was warned that he should
not condemn the teachings of infralapsarianism.71 Hence the Synod deter-
mined that one of its own members was not guilty of making God the
author of sin. Nevertheless, there was still the charge brought by the
Arminians against various theologians within the Reformed camp. Did the
Synod scapegoat some of the esteemed members of its community and
ostracize them as heretics with the Canons of Dort?
Several features about the Canons of Dort dismiss the conclusion that the
Canons reject supralapsarianism. First, the delegates, among whom some
were supralapsarians, were well aware that there were several Reformed
theologians of great prestige who held to the supralapsarian position: Beza,
Perkins, and Whitaker, to name a few. Second, while the infralapsarian
—————
68
Brandt, History of the Reformation, 3.283, 285. Cf. Bell, “Theology of Johannes Mac-
covius,” 93–168, for a complete examination of Maccovius’ doctrine of predestination. Bell
concludes that Maccovius’ views on predestination are within the confines of Reformed Ortho-
doxy.
69
Bell, “Theology of Johannes Maccovius,” 20.
70
Sprunger, Learned Doctor Ames, 60–61.
71
Brandt, History of the Reformation, 3.289; Bell, “Theology of Johannes Maccovius,” 20.
Cf. Berkouwer, Divine Election, 17–21. It should be noted that Johannes Bogerman, the president
of the Synod, worked behind the scenes with Maccovius and Lubbertus to bring a resolution to
their personal differences (Kistemaker, “Leading Figures at the Synod of Dort,” 40–41).
5.10 Summary
The Synod did not reject supralapsarianism likely due to the prominence
and prestige of the theologians who held the position, the knowledge that
the supralapsarians denied that God was the author of sin, and a great desire
to present a unified front against all other critics of the Reformed churches.
The Synod, however, did warn one of its members, Johannes Maccovius, to
use more scriptural language in his teaching and writing to avoid any future
confusion; it also issued denials that God was the author of sin in its defini-
tion of reprobation and in the final statements of the Canons. The Canons
state that the Reformed church staunchly denies “that it makes God the
author of sin, unjust, tyrannical, hypocritical; that it is nothing more than an
interpolated Stoicism, Manicheism, Libertinism.”79 In the concluding re-
marks, the Canons also vaguely allude to the issues regarding the debates
over infra- and supralapsarianism:
Finally, this Synod exhorts all their brethren in the gospel of Christ to conduct them-
selves piously and religiously in handling this doctrine, both in the universities and
churches; to direct it, as well in discourse as in writing, to the glory of the Divine
name, to holiness of life, and to the consolation of afflicted souls; to regulate, by the
Scripture, according to the analogy of faith, not only their sentiments, but also their
—————
77
Gisbert Voetius, Concerning Practical Theology, in Reformed Dogmatics, A Library of
Protestant Thought, ed. and trans. John W. Beardslee (New York: OUP, 1965), 266.
78
Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, ed. James T. Dennison, Jr., trans. George
Musgrave Giger (Phillipsburg: P & R, 1992–97), 4.17.12; cf. Barth, Dogmatics, 133.
79
Articles of Dort, Conclusion, in Schaff, Creeds, 3.596.
5.11 Conclusion
The Synod of Dort for some represents all that is backwards and inflexible
in Reformed Orthodoxy. True, the Synod did close the door on an Arminian
understanding of redemption. However if careful attention is given to the
various opinions of the delegations, both local and international, one will
easily see that there was a great degree of flexibility exhibited at the Synod,
even over matters that were sometimes strongly disputed. Within the
boundaries of confessional orthodoxy, Dort allowed for a degree of indi-
viduality and a carefully crafted level of cooperation.82 This spirit of flexi-
ble orthodoxy allowed supra- and infralapsarians to coexist at Dort and
codified a spirit of diversity that one can find in subsequent Reformed con-
fessions.
—————
80
Articles of Dort, in Schaff, Creeds, 3.597; emphasis.
81
B. B. Warfield, “Predestination in the Reformed Confessions,” in Studies in Theology, ed.
Ethelbert D. Warfield, et al. (New York: OUP, 1932), 229; Bavinck, Dogmatics, 2.384.
82
Walter Rex, Essays on Pierre Bayle and Religious Controversy, International Archives of
the History of Ideas, vol. 8 (The Hague: Martinus Nijhof, 1965), 87; cf. Godfrey, “Tensions
Within International Calvinism,” 264, 269.
Jonathan D. Moore
6.1 Introduction
—————
2
This historically important formula reads, “pro omnibus quantum ad pretii sufficientiam, sed
pro electis tantum quantum ad efficaciam” (Peter Lombard, Sententiae in IV Libris Distinctae, 3rd
edn, 2 vol., Spicilegiurn Bonaventurianum (Grottaferrata: Editiones Collegii S. Bonaventurae Ad
Claras Aquas, 1971–1981), 2:128 [3.20.5.1]); “for all with regard to the sufficiency of the price,
but only for the elect with regard to its efficacy” (Peter Lombard, The Sentences, edited by Joseph
Goering and Giulio Silano, trans. Giulio Silano, 1st English edn, 4 vol., Mediaeval Sources in
Translation [St Michael’s College Medieval Translations], vol. 42–45 [Toronto: Pontifical Institute
of Mediaeval Studies, 2007–2010], 3:86).
land ever produced.”3 From the outset of his publishing career, Owen was
concerned to defend the particularity and irresistibility of divine grace over
against the Arminian claim that God’s grace was universal and resistible. In
1643 Owen published his first book, “A Display of Arminianism”, and,
dedicating it to the committee for religion in the House of Lords, set out the
basic outline of what was to be for the rest of his life his convinced position
on particular redemption.4 Provoked by continued agitations for universal
grace, Owen then published in 1648 “Salus Electorum, Sanguis Jesu; or the
Death of Death in the Death of Christ,” a thorough, 300-page treatise de-
voted specifically to refuting ‘universal redemption’ and establishing theo-
logically and exegetically that Christ died for the elect only.5 Owen spent
over seven years seriously investigating this issue, and could write, in a
follow-up defense of this book against Richard Baxter, “There hath (sic) not
been many things in my whole enquiry after the Mind of God in his Word,
which have more exercised my thoughts, then (sic) the right ordering, and
distinct disposal of those whereof we treat [in this controversy over the
death of Christ].”6 Although Owen by 1653 was to change his position
—————
3
Carl R. Trueman, “John Owen,” in Biographical Dictionary of Evangelicals, edited by
Timothy Larsen, David W. Bebbington, and Mark A. Noll (Leicester, UK: Inter-Varsity Press,
2003), 494–497, 494.
4
John Owen, Theomachia autexousiastike: Or, A Display of Arminianisme. Being a Discov-
ery of the old Pelagian idol Free-Will, with the new Goddesse Contingency, advancing themselves,
into the Throne of the God of Heaven to the Prejudice of his Grace, Providence, and supreme
Dominion over the Children of Men. Wherein the maine Errors of the Arminians are laid open, by
which they are fallen off from the received Doctrine of all the Reformed Churches, with their
Opposition in divers Particulars to the Doctrine established in the Church of England. Discovered
out of their owne Writings and Confessions, and confuted by the Word of God, 1st edn (London:
By I. L. for Phil. Stephens, 1643). See also John Owen, The Works of John Owen, D.D., edited by
William H. Goold, 24 vol., Standard Library of British Divines (Edinburgh: Johnstone & Hunter,
1850–1855), 10:1–137, especially 87–100.
5
John Owen, Salus Electorum, Sanguis Jesu; or the Death of Death in the Death of Christ: A
Treatise of the Redemption and Reconciliation that is in the Blood of Christ with the Merit thereof,
and the Satisfaction wrought thereby. Wherin the proper End of the Death of Christ is asserted:
the immediate Effects and Fruits thereof assigned, with their Extent in Respect of it’s [sic] Object;
and the whole Controversie about Universall Redemption fully discussed. In foure Parts, whereof
the 1. Declareth the eternall Counsell, and distinct actuall Concurrence of Father, Sonne, and
Holy Spirit unto the Worke of Redemption in the Blood of Christ; with the covenanted Intendment,
and accomplished End of God therein. 2. Removeth false and supposed Ends of the Death of
Christ; with the Distinctions invented to salve the manifold Contradictions of the pretended
Universall Atonement; rightly stating the Controversie. 3. Containeth Arguments against Univer-
sall Redemption from the Word; with an Affection of the Satisfaction and Merit of Christ. 4.
Answereth all considerable Objections as yet brought to light either by Arminians, or others, (their
late Followers as to this Point) in the behalfe of Universall Redemption; with a large Unfolding of
all the Texts of Scripture by any produced and wrested to that Purpose, 1st edn (London: W. W.
for Philemon Stephens, 1648). See also Owen, Works, 10:139–428.
6
John Owen, Of the Death of Christ, the Price he paid, and the Purchase he made. Or, the
Satisfaction, and Merit of the Death of Christ cleered (sic), the Universality of Redemption thereby
oppugned: and the Doctrine concerning these Things formerly delivered in a Treatise against
—————
Universal Redemption vindicated from the Exceptions, and Objections of Mr Baxter, 1st edn
(London: Peter Cole, 1650), 5. See also Owen, Works, 10:429–479, 436. The result of this sus-
tained attention to this subject is the fact that nearly two whole volumes of Owen’s 24–volume
corpus are taken up with the theme of Christ’s atoning work (vol. 10 and 12).
7
Owen later conceded that the atonement was absolutely necessary if God was to forgive sin,
and rejected his earlier voluntarist position which he now came to view as leading to Socinianism.
For an excellent discussion of this development in Owen’s thought, see Carl R. Trueman, “John
Owen’s Dissertation on Divine Justice: An Exercise in Christocentric Scholasticism,” Calvin
Theological Journal 33, no. 1 (1998): 87–103.
8
See especially Owen, Works, 19:77–97.
9
Ibid., 10:192.
10
Ibid., 10:219.
11
E.g. Alan C. Clifford, Atonement and Justification: English Evangelical Theology, 1640–
1790: An Evaluation, 1st edn (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 95–110; Hans Boersma, A hot
Pepper Corn: Richard Baxter’s Doctrine of Justification in its Seventeenth-Century Context of
Controversy, 1st edn (Zoetermeer: Uitgeverij Boekencentrum, 1993), 211–212.
12
For specific refutations of this Aristotelian “one-end teleology” charge against Death of
Death, see Carl R. Trueman, The Claims of Truth: John Owen’s Trinitarian Theology, 1st edn
(Carlisle, UK: Paternoster Press, 1998), 203–205, 233–240; Carl R. Trueman, “Puritan Theology
as historical Event: A linguistic Approach to the ecumenical Context,” in Reformation and Scho-
lasticism: An Ecumenical Enterprise, edited by Willem J. van Asselt and Eef Dekker, Texts and
Studies in Reformation and Post-Reformation Thought (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic,
2001), 253–275, 261–273; and Edwin E. M. Tay, “The Priesthood of Christ in the Atonement
Carl Trueman has ably demonstrated that Owen’s theology was deeply
Trinitarian, and, as such, was the theology of a Reformed Catholic develop-
ing and applying Trinitarian orthodoxy to the needs and concerns of his
own day.13 Owen’s Death of Death bears out this claim and in fact it is
significant that Owen begins his treatise by setting out the role of each
member of the Trinity in accomplishing redemption. The Father sends his
Son into the world, appointing and equipping him for his work as Saviour
and Mediator, and lays the punishment for sin upon him. The Son humbles
himself, takes upon himself a human nature, offers himself up to the Father
as an oblation and makes intercession to the Father on the basis of that
oblation. The Holy Spirit overshadows the Virgin Mary to bring about the
incarnation, fills and empowers the Son for his earthly ministry and suffer-
ing, and then quickens the Son from the dead.14 In keeping with the ancient
maxim opera Trinitatis ad extra indivisa sunt, Owen asserts that, “The
agent in, and chief author of, this great work of our redemption is the whole
blessed Trinity; for all the works which outwardly are of the Deity are un-
divided and belong equally to each person, their distinct manner of subsis-
tence and order being observed.”15 For Owen, a consideration of this unity
of the Trinity in the work of redemption is enough on its own to secure the
doctrine of particular redemption, because the work of the Son is the means
by which the Father saves his elect, predestined people, and the Son and the
Spirit fully concur in the Father’s distinguishing mercy, and act in perfect
harmony with the divine eternal purpose of redeeming and glorifying these
foreknown, elect individuals.
This is particularly clear for Owen in the matter of the unity of the Son’s
priestly work. For Owen, oblation and intercession are indissolubly con-
joined, and so the scope of both actions must be identical.16 Christ’s inter-
cession is “an authoritative presenting himself before the throne of his Fa-
—————
Theology of John Owen (1616–1683)” (Ph.D. Dissertation, Edinburgh University, 2009), 218–
259.
13
Trueman, The Claims of Truth. See also Carl R. Trueman, John Owen: Reformed Catholic,
Renaissance Man, 1st edn (Aldershot, UK: Ashgate Publishing Limited, 2007).
14
Owen, Works, 10:163–179.
15
Ibid., 10:163.
16
Ibid., 10:418.
—————
Perkins to particularism. They did not so drive William Twisse, for example, but that is not the
point. Sometimes theologians come to the same conclusions for different reasons. Here in this
case, it happens to be an infralapsarian predestinarianism and federalism that drove Owen to the
same conclusions as Perkins, along with a heavy emphasis on Trinitarian considerations and the
pactum salutis – the latter not being significantly present in Perkins’ thought or context.
23
Willem J. van Asselt, The Federal Theology of Johannes Cocceius (1603–1669), trans.
Raymond A. Blacketer, 1st edn, Studies in the History of Christian Thought, vol. 100 (Leiden:
Brill, 2001), 227–247, and especially 227–228.
24
For example, Ps 2:7–9; 16:2–3, 10–11; 40:6–8; Isa 49:6–12; Zech 6:13.
25
The covenant of redemption was officially a covenant or “compact” between all three per-
sons of the Godhead, but some Reformed theologians, Owen not excluded, struggled, at least
initially, to articulate a compelling role for the Holy Spirit in this Trinitarian counsel, that is, when
they remembered to involve him at all (e.g. Owen, Works, 10:178–179; 12:496–508, 605, 606,
615; 19:58, 67, 77–97; cf. The Savoy Declaration of Faith 8.1 (The Savoy Conference, A Declara-
tion of the Faith and Order owned and practised in the Congregational Churches in England;
agreed upon and consented unto by their Elders and Messengers in their Meeting at the Savoy,
October 12, 1658, 1st edn [London: John Field for John Allen, 1658], 15). However, Edwin Tay
has recently defended the mature Owen from any resulting charge of a binitarian formulation, by
highlighting the Spirit’s instrumental, if not pactional, role in Owen’s understanding of this doc-
trine (Tay, “Priesthood of Christ”, 63–67). Cf. Trueman, John Owen: Reformed Catholic, 86–87.
For a similar defense of Cocceius from the same charge, see van Asselt, Federal Theology, 233–
234.
26
Owen, Works, 10:441; cf. 10:464; 12:614–615.
27
Ibid., 10:458.
with Christ’s saving work, and Owen has already painstakingly established
and schematised how in Scripture the word ‘world’ can have over a dozen
different meanings.30 This is a typical example of how Owen sought to
establish his doctrine of particular redemption by means of lengthy and
careful exegesis of all relevant passages, be they at first sight friendly or
threatening to his case.31
So far we have outlined how Owen’s particular redemptionism was part and
parcel of his espousal of an exegetically grounded Trinitarian covenant
theology. But to get to the heart of Owen’s understanding of Christ’s aton-
ing work, we must understand that crucial to Owen’s position is the nature
of that atonement. Too often Reformed historiography has obsessed at a
superficial level about whether or not a particular theologian did or did not
state that Christ did or did not ‘die for all’ or ‘for the world’ or some such
other ambiguous statement, without actually examining their respective
positions on the nature of the atonement itself. But John Owen could im-
mediately see that the Arminian attack on Reformed theology threatened
the received understanding of the nature of Christ’s work as an accom-
plished penal substitution and actual reconciliation, and posited an atone-
ment that merely opened the way for God to offer a potential reconciliation
conditioned on the human response. Owen could also see English Hypo-
thetical Universalists moving in this same direction with their espousal of
“a twofold reconciliation and redemption,” thereby conceding that it is
possible to have a satisfaction for sins that does not satisfy and a reconcilia-
tion that does not in fact reconcile.32 Yet, according to Owen, the Scriptures
know nothing of “being freed so far or so far by redemption, and not
wholly, fully, or completely.”33
Consequently Owen goes to considerable length in Death of Death and
elsewhere to defining the precise nature of Christ’s satisfaction and recon-
ciliation over against Grotian and Socinian teachings as well as those of
hypothetical universalism.34 The death of Christ, while having a govern-
—————
30
Ibid., 10:330–338; 303–307. This is followed by an examination of the various meanings
that ‘all’ can have in various Hebrew and Greek passages (ibid., 10:307–309).
31
For more on Owen’s exegetical methodology see Henry M. Knapp, “Understanding the
Mind of God: John Owen and seventeenth-century exegetical Methodology” (Ph.D. Dissertation,
Calvin Theological Seminary, 2002) and Barry H. Howson, “The Puritan Hermeneutics of John
Owen: A Recommendation,” Westminster Theological Journal 63, no. 2 (2001): 351–376.
32
Owen, Works, 10:222–223.
33
Ibid., 10:473.
34
Owen lays the groundwork here for his major refutation of Socinian formulations on
Christ’s death which was to appear seven years later as Vindiciae Evangelicae, or the Mystery of
—————
the Gospell vindicated, and Socinianisme examined, in the Consideration, and Confutation of a
Catechisme, called A Scripture Catechisme, written by J. Biddle M.A. And the Catechisme of
Valentinus Smalcius, commonly called the Racovian Catechisme. With the Vindication of the
Testimonies of Scripture, concerning the Deity and Satisfaction of Jesus Christ, from the Perverse
Expositions, and Interpretations of them, by Hugo Grotius in his Annotations on the Bible, 1st edn
(Oxford: Leon. Lichfield for Thomas Robinson, 1655). See Owen, Works, 12:1–590, and espe-
cially 411–551.
35
Ibid., 10:288–290.
36
Ibid., 10:438; cf. 10:441.
37
Ibid., 10:265–270. This position is cryptically ascribed to Grotius in ibid., 10:268, 271, 272;
cf. 10:437. Richard Baxter relentlessly opposed Owen on this whole point and also claimed that
Owen had misunderstood Grotius (ibid., 10:438, 447). For more of Owen on this key part of his
argument see also ibid., 10:436, 437; 12:613–615 where Owen revisits these arguments against
Baxter’s defense of the solutio tantundem position, so essential to his own system of universal
redemptionism.
38
Ibid., 10:269–270. “There is a sameness in Christ’s sufferings with that in the obligation in
respect of essence, and equivalency in respect of attendancies.” For example, Christ suffered
“eternal death” in potentia (ibid., 10:448). Owen’s repeated use of the Aristotelian distinction at
this point between essence and accidents is noteworthy. As Edwin Tay has argued, this clears
Owen from Clifford’s reductionist charge that Owen’s defense of solutio ejusdem betrays a crass
commercialism in his understanding of the atonement. Owen was not in fact thinking of sin in
quantitative terms (Tay, “Priesthood of Christ”, 212–215, 266–267; Clifford, Atonement and
Justification, 9–10, 112, 128–129).
39
Owen, Works, 10:449.
40
Ibid., 10:270, 440–443, 447, 454.
death, but Christ’s very death itself.41 Although there is a logical distinction
and temporal separation between the impetration and application of re-
demption, the impetration contains within itself its eventual application in
the lives of every single person for whom Christ died.42 Because the exact
punishment for the sins of the elect has been visited upon Christ, their sins
are actually remitted on the cross and the final salvation of the elect is cer-
tain. Those in the Reformed churches such as Richard Baxter who argued
against this “actual remission” for sin, were left with only “potential remis-
sion, not once mentioned in the book of God.”43 A ‘hypothetical’ or condi-
tional satisfaction for all without exception is a logical impossibility. Con-
cerning those who suffer eternally in hell, Owen asks “how can the justice
of God require satisfaction of them for their sins, if it were before satisfied
for them in Christ? To be satisfied, and to require satisfaction that it may be
satisfied, are contradictory, and cannot be affirmed of the same in respect of
the same.”44 This is why Owen saw hypothetical universalism as containing
much “venom” as it makes salvation “only a possibility” and of necessity
evacuates the atonement of its intrinsic meaning and power.45
Owen follows the same line of thought concerning Christ’s atonement
considered in the original sense of that word: an at-one-ment, or reconcilia-
tion. For Owen, reconciliatio is by definition mutual. “If one be well
pleased with the other, and that other continue akatallaktos, unappeased and
implacable, there is no reconciliation.”46 A ‘potential’ reconciliation is as
meaningless as it is impossible to achieve. Reconciliation is “the immediate
effect and product of the death of Christ” and cannot therefore be univer-
sal.47 Rather, God “is atoned, appeased, actually reconciled, at peace, with
those for whom Christ died; and in due time, for his sake, will bestow upon
them all the fruits and issues of love and renewed friendship.”48 In Owen,
—————
41
Owen rejected as groundless the counter-claim that such a perfect satisfaction undermined
the freeness of forgiveness (ibid., 10:446).
42
This is especially the case as Owen demands that the death of Christ never be considered
outside of the only context that gives it meaning, namely, the pactum salutis and eternal election.
43
Owen, Works, 10:477.
44
Ibid., 10:247.
45
Ibid., 10:226.
46
Ibid., 10:262.
47
Ibid., 10:264. Owen means logically immediate and elsewhere emphatically and repeatedly
rejects both “justification before believing” (i.e. from the time of Christ’s cross work onwards) and
“justification from eternity,” although Baxter was determined that some mud should stick (ibid.,
10:449, 478, 274–279, 425–428, 454, 456–457, 465, 470, 472; 12:592, 593, 596, 601–607, 615).
Owen did come closer to teaching justification before faith than many Reformed Orthodox, and
was also of the opinion that some Reformed theologians who saw “justification by faith to be but
the sense of it in our consciences” (i.e. in foro conscientiae as opposed to in foro Dei) were “bet-
ter, wiser, and more learned” than he (ibid., 10:470; 12:593, 596). I am grateful to Richard Snoddy
for helpful clarification on the general issue of justification before faith.
48
Ibid., 10:459.
—————
49
Ibid., 10:173. Owen evidently took delight in presenting this “dilemma” for “our Universal-
ists” and reused it later on in Death of Death: “If Christ died in the stead of all men, and made
satisfaction for their sins, then he did it for all their sins, or only for some of their sins. If for some
only, who then can be saved? If for all, why then are all not saved? They say it is because of their
unbelief; they will not believe, and therefore are not saved. That unbelief, is it a sin, or is it not? If
it be not, how can it be a cause of damnation? If it be, Christ died for it, or he did not. If he did not,
then he died not for all the sins of all men. If he did, why is this an obstacle to their salvation?”
(ibid., 10:249).
50
Ibid., 10:290.
Despite the rigor and vigor of Owen’s defense of particular redemption, this
was by no means the only option for the Reformed Orthodox in seven-
teenth-century Britain, and many reputable Reformed Orthodox theologians
remained unconvinced by the arguments for particular redemption. One
such theologian was John Davenant (1572–1641), Lady Margaret Professor
of Divinity at the University of Cambridge, who although he did not live to
see the publication of Owen’s Death of Death, did deliver a series of lec-
tures against particular redemptionism some time before being consecrated
Bishop of Salisbury in November 1621.51 These Latin lectures, comprising
over one hundred tightly argued folio pages, were not published until
1650,52 but are to English Hypothetical Universalism what Owen’s Death of
Death is to particular redemptionism – a classic, thorough statement of the
position that arguably was not bettered by a British divine in the Reformed
Orthodox period. Although for the purposes of this essay it would have
been convenient if Owen and Davenant had clashed swords directly,53 it is
still possible, due to the explanatory care of both theologians, and making
use of Davenant’s other material on this debate produced in connection with
the Synod of Dordt, to compare the core tenets of their respective positions,
and, without anachronism, contrast their different approaches to articulating
what Christ accomplished on the cross.
—————
51
For the issue of dating these lectures see Moore, English Hypothetical Universalism, 187.
52
John Davenant, Dissertationes duae: Prima de Morte Christi, quatenus ad omnes extenda-
tur, quatenus ad solos Electos restringatur. Altera de Praedestinatione & Reprobatione. [...]
Quibus subnectitur ejusdem D. Davenantii Sententia de Gallicana Controversia: sc. de Gratiosa
& Salutari Dei erga Homines Peccatores Voluntate, edited by Thomas Bedford, 1st edn (Cam-
bridge: Roger Daniel, 1650). For the purposes of this essay, English quotations will be taken from
Josiah Allport’s adequate nineteenth-century translation (John Davenant, “A Dissertation on the
Death of Christ, as to its Extent and special Benefits: containing a short History of Pelagianism,
and shewing the Agreement of the Doctrines of the Church of England on general Redemption,
Election, and Predestination, with the Primitive Fathers of the Christian Church, and above all,
with the Holy Scriptures,” in An Exposition of the Epistle of St Paul to the Colossians [London:
Hamilton, Adams, and Co., 1832], 2:309–569).
53
Davenant’s 1650 dissertation did not appear until after Owen’s follow-up treatise to the
Death of Death, against Richard Baxter, was already at the printer’s. But there was time enough
for Owen to give a brief assessment in the preface to the reader. He viewed Davenant’s position as
“repugnant unto truth” and not “founded on the word.” He deemed that the “several parts thereof
are mutually conflicting and destructive of each other, to the great prejudice of the truth therein
contained.” He was convinced that Davenant was engaged in a futile attempt to make the gospel
more palatable to “carnal affections” and “the fleshly-minded,” for why else would he have
concocted such an elaborate system of “unscriptural distinctions” and “inextricable entangle-
ments” (Owen, Works, 10:432–433)? Davenant did not live long enough to return such compli-
ments on Owen’s treatise, dying seven years before its publication.
Perhaps the most striking contrast in the approaches of Davenant and Owen
is that right from the outset Owen addresses Christ’s work in terms of the
“end” (telos) that the Father had in mind and that Christ effectually accom-
plished,54 whereas for Davenant, everywhere he turns he sees the work of
Christ in dualistic or bifocal terms and as admitting of a legitimate refer-
ence at once to both the elect and non-elect. For example, Christ came to
save the elect, but he also came to save all without exception in another
sense, since his work always has a dual aspect to it. The salvation of the
elect is not the “only or sole end” of Christ’s death, and Christ “merited,
and offered his merits, in a different way for different persons.”55 Thus,
Christ had different things in mind for different people when he was dying
on the cross: “there was in Christ himself a will according to which he
willed that his death should regard all men individually; and there was also
a will according to which he willed that it should pertain to the elect alone.”
Both this special reference and universal reference of Christ’s death are
“conformed to the ordination of the Father.”56 Although Davenant subordi-
nates Christ to the Father’s decree of election, Christ himself, while suffer-
ing on the cross, affirms the decree of election and to that extent partici-
pates in his own death’s special application. Trinitarian unity is thereby
maintained even while Christ dies for those whom the Father has not
elected.57
Davenant’s sensitivity to the charge, much used by Owen, that hypo-
thetical universalism threatens the unity of the Trinity, is also seen when he
refuses to make the more traditional hypothetical universalist concession
that Christ’s priestly intercession is limited to the elect. Instead Davenant
universalises the whole of Christ’s priestly work on one level, in order to
correspond with the Father’s equivalent dual purpose. Thus, “not only […]
the death, but the resurrection and intercession of Christ regards [the non-
elect], as to the possibility of their enjoying these benefits, the condition of
faith being pre-supposed.”58
Similarly, the work of the Holy Spirit in redemption also has a dual as-
pect in so far as “sundry initial preparations tending to Conversion, merited
by Christ” are “wrought by the Holy Ghost in the hearts of many” non-
—————
54
Ibid., 10:157–163.
55
Davenant, “Dissertation”, 2:396, 557.
56
Ibid., 2:398.
57
It is this teaching that Christ died in a special way for the elect that distinguishes all forms
of Hypothetical Universalism from the Remonstrant or Arminian doctrine of the atonement which
teaches that Christ died for everyone equally and for no one in a special way.
58
Davenant, “Dissertation”, 2:373.
elect.59 In this, Davenant was asserting what the British Delegation to Dordt
as a whole had officially confessed. These men spoke of “some fruits of
Christ’s death, not comprised in the Decree of Election, but afforded more
generally.” By this they meant “true and spiritual Graces accompanying the
Gospel, and conferred upon some non-electi.”60 Granted that “Christ does
not confer anything upon men which he hath not first merited for them by
his obedience,” it follows for Davenant that, “[w]hatever supernatural grace
is given through Christ to any man, is given from the merit of Christ.”61 The
Son and the Spirit therefore both operate with a dual reference to the elect
and reprobate in their respective opera ad extra, and, in so doing, fully
concur with the will of the Father. Against Owen’s claims to the contrary,
therefore, the Trinitarian nature of redemption is upheld within this hypo-
thetical universalist, dualist system.
6.3.3 Voluntarism
—————
90
Chad Van Dixhoorn and the Westminster Assembly Project (westminsterassembly.org)
have recently redated the end of the Westminster Assembly to 1653 based on local newspaper
evidence (unpublished communication).
91
In the case of Dordt, Daniel Tilenus’ gross caricature of the Canons did much to promote
this popular perception (Daniel Tilenus, Canones Synodi Dordracenae. Cum Notis et Animadver-
sionibus D. Tileni. Adjecta sunt ad calcem Paralipomena ad Amicam Collationem quam cum D.
Tileno ante Biennium Institutam nuper publicavit lo. Camero, 1st edn [Paris: Nicolas Buon,
1622]).
92
W. Robert Godfrey, “Tensions within International Calvinism: The Debate on the Atone-
ment at the Synod of Dort, 1618–1619” (Ph.D. Dissertation, Stanford University, 1974), 263–264.
93
For a detailed examination of the options on offer at the Synod of Dordt, including an
examination of the views of the continental hypothetical universalist delegates, see G. Michael
Thomas, The Extent of the Atonement: A Dilemma for Reformed Theology from Calvin to the
—————
[London: John Bill, 1619], 20. This translation is, as Milton notes, not the most accurate but the
most contemporary [Milton, ed., British Delegation, 297]). It is with these words that the Synod
explains its immediately preceding statement that God’s intention (intentio) was that the saving
efficacy (salvifica efficacia) of Christ’s death should exert itself (sese exereret) in all the elect, in
order to give them alone (eos solos) justifying faith, and lead them infallibly (infallibiliter) to
salvation (Schaff, ed., Creeds, 3:562).
98
The ‘T.U.L.I.P.’ acronym appears to have originated no earlier than a 1905 lecture in New
Jersey by Dr. Cleland Boyd McAfee (1866–1944), a leading Presbyterian minister in Brooklyn,
New York (William H. Vail, “The Five Points of Calvinism historically considered,” The Outlook
104, May–August [1913]: 394). For the first influential popularisation of this acronym, still in
print to this day, see Loraine Boettner, The Reformed Doctrine of Predestination, 3rd edn (Grand
Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1932), 59–60, 150–161.
99
It is important to take into account at this point that the Synod’s intention was never to pro-
duce a positive confessional standard, and that requiring the delegates or others to subscribe to the
final document was not initially envisaged. The Synod’s original intention was simply to produce
a negative document that judged and definitively rejected Remonstrant theology. Therefore the
‘Rejection of Errors’ sections of the final document are actually primary, despite the fact that they
eventually took second place and are even sometimes omitted in modern editions of the Canons.
Indeed, the original drafting committee used the term ‘Canons’ to refer only to the Rejectio Er-
rorum in distinction from the positive articles. The positive articles were eventually folded into the
final document in order to vindicate the rejections and demonstrate how an orthodox biblical
alternative was available. Although the Rejectio Errorum gradually faded from view once the final
synodical judgment began to function increasingly as a confessional standard, it follows that the
positive articles can still only be responsibly interpreted with the ‘Rejection of Errors’ as an
interpretive backdrop (Donald W. Sinnema, “The Canons of Dordt: From Judgment on Arminian-
ism to Confessional Standard,” in Revisiting the Synod of Dordt (1618–1619), ed. Aza Goudriaan
and Fred A. van Lieburg [Leiden: Brill, 2011], 313–333). I am very grateful to Professor Sinnema
iently stating more than was explicitly required by Article 2.3. But reading
a divine intentionality into this section is not itself proscribed by the
Synod’s meticulously crafted wording, and Calamy’s was a fair summary of
the British Delegation’s reading of the Canons, even as Reynolds’ position
was also fully accommodated in Article 2.3.
—————
105
Edward Reynolds, Self-Deniall: Opened and applied in a Sermon before the Reverend As-
sembly of Divines on a Day of their private Humiliation, 1st edn (London: Robert Bostock, 1645),
42–43.
106
For the meticulous care and prolonged revision process that the Assembly employed in the
production of Chapter 3, see Benjamin B. Warfield, The Westminster Assembly and its Work, 1st
edn (New York: Oxford University Press, 1931), 73–151.
107
Session 520, 20 October, 1645. “Minutes,” 3.103r; cf. Mitchell, Minutes, 151.
108
Session 522, 22 October, 1645. “Minutes,” 3.105r; cf. Mitchell, Minutes, 154.
cussion then proceeded to the doctrine of reprobation. But just what was
this agreement, and to what extent could ‘every one enjoy their own sense’?
WCF 3.6 reads:
Wherefore they who are elected, being fallen in Adam, are redeemed by Christ, are
effectually called unto faith in Christ, by his Spirit working in due season, are justi-
fied, adopted, sanctified, and kept by his power through faith unto salvation. Neither
are any other redeemed by Christ, effectually called, justified, adopted, sanctified and
saved, but the Elect only.”109
As if echoing the phrase “those only” of the Canons of Dordt, the Confes-
sion here speaks of “the elect only” in connection with Christ’s redemption,
and, once again, at first glance it would appear that the particularists won
the day. We have seen how the English Hypothetical Universalist, faced
with Canons Article 2.8, could argue that this limitation to the elect con-
cerned only the ‘effectual’ aspect of redemption. But this is not as easy to
do in WCF 3.6 because the word ‘redemption’ is not proactively qualified
in this way. However, the first sentence above can still be taken to be refer-
ring only to effectual redemption, and the second sentence similarly fails to
close down the English Hypothetical Universalist position.110 Had the Con-
fession said “Neither are any other redeemed by Christ but the elect only”
full stop, or “Neither are any other redeemed by Christ, effectually called,
justified, adopted, sanctified or saved, but the Elect only,” even the most
scholastically agile English Hypothetical Universalist would have been in
difficulty, though not, perhaps, insuperably so. But because it says “and
saved” the English Hypothetical Universalist could much more easily argue
that the limitation to the elect here only applies concerning the full set, and
not individually to each component part, i.e. only the elect have the redemp-
tion of Christ fully applied to them, but it just so happens that the non-elect
are also redeemed in another sense. But even with the second sentence as it
finally stood, an English Hypothetical Universalist might still ‘enjoy his
own sense’ by simply confining its scope to the effectual redemption of the
elect, while reserving the right to hold privately to another, ineffectual
redemption. Structurally speaking this would be a contorted reading of the
Confession, because WCF 3.7 immediately contrasts God’s decree concern-
ing the reprobate with that concerning the elect in 3.6, and thereby implies
that the categories of 3.6 do not apply to the non-elect (who are dealt with
in 3.7). These categories are therefore presented only as the ‘appointed
—————
109
The Westminster Assembly of Divines, The humble Advice of the Assembly of Divines, now
by Authority of Parliament sitting at Westminster, concerning a Confession of Faith: With the
Quotations and Texts of Scripture annexed. Presented by them lately to both Houses of Parlia-
ment, 1st edn (London/Edinburgh: Evan Tyler, 1647), 7–8.
110
This second sentence remains exactly as proposed by the Committee, despite it being much
debated on the floor of the Assembly (Warfield, Westminster Assembly, 149, 151).
—————
the sentiments expressed in Richard A. Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise
and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725, 1st edn, 4 vol. (Grand Rapids, MI:
Baker Academic, 2003), 1:76–77, 80 and Trueman, John Owen: Reformed Catholic, 29–31.
126
Henry Scudder, The Christians daily Walk, in holy Security and Peace. Being an Answer to
these Questions: 1. How a Man may do each present Days work with Christian Chearfullness?, 2.
How to bear each Present Days Cross with Christian Patience? Containing familiar Directions,
shewing 1. How to walk with God in the whole Course of a Mans Life. 2. How to be upright in the
said Walking. 3. How to live without taking Care or Thought in any thing. 4. How to get and keep
true Peace with God, wherein are manifold Helps to prevent and remove damnable Presumption;
also to quiet and ease distressed Consciences [...] commended to the Practice of all Professors, by
Dr Owen and Mr Baxter, [1627] 11th edn (London: For Lodowick Lloyd, 1674), 331–336, A1v.
Scudder’s defense of hypothetical universalism also appeared in the edition that had most likely
enthused Owen as a young man (Henry Scudder, The Christians daily Walke, in holy Securitie and
Peace. Being an Answer to these Questions: 1. How a Man may doe each present Daies Worke
with Christian Chearfullnesse?, 2. How to bear each Present Daies Crosse with Christian Pa-
tience? Containing familiar Directions, shewing 1. How to walk with God in the whole Course of a
Mans Life. 2. How to be upright in the said Walking. 3. How to live without taking Care or
Thought in any thing. 4. How to get and keepe true Peace with God, wherein are manifold Helpes
to prevent and remove damnable Presumption; also to quiet and ease distressed Conscences. First
intended for private Use; now (through Importunity) published for the common Good, [1627] 8th
Corrected and enlarged edn [London: I. L. for Henry Overton, 1642], 350–357; Scudder, Chris-
tians daily Walk, 1674, A1r).
127
We have already noted above that Owen would have revised it in terms of his change of
mind on the necessity of the atonement.
128
Edward Polhill, The Divine Will considered in its eternal Decrees and holy Execution of
them, 1st edn (London: For Henry Eversden, 1673), 281–346.
to express my own dissent from some of his apprehensions, especially about the
Object and Extent of Redemption. Had I seen this discourse before it was wholly
Printed, I should have communicated my thoughts unto him upon that Subject, and
some few passages in it: but where there is an agreement in the substance and design
of any Doctrine, as there is between my judgment and what is here solidly declared, it
is our duty to bear with each other in things circumstantial, or different explanations
of the same Truth, when there is no incursion made upon the Principles we own.129
So by the 1670s, it was not hypothetical universalists but “Papists,
Socinians, Arminians, [and] Quakers”130 that Owen wanted to see attacked,
and that from the apparently much safer vantage point of a Reformed
Orthodox fortress free from the embarrassing cracks of vituperous intra-
Reformed debates, and lined with a good insulating layer of warm fellow-
ship for the godly.131
—————
134
Cf. David R. Como, “Puritans, Predestination and the Construction of Orthodoxy in early
seventeenth-century England,” in Conformity and Orthodoxy in the English church, c1560–1660,
edited by Peter G. Lake and Michael C. Questier, Studies in Modern British Religious History
(Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 2000), 64–87.
—————
softened his particularism into English Hypothetical Universalism under their influence, but
eventually ended up a notorious Arminian (John R. D. Coffey, John Goodwin and the Puritan
Revolution: Religion and intellectual Change in seventeenth-century England, 1st edn [Wood-
bridge, UK: Boydell Press, 2006], passim, but especially 26, 27, 29, 199, 202, 224).
147
Baxter, Catholick Theologie, 1:a2r–a2v; N.H. Keeble and Geoffrey F. Nuttall, ed., Calen-
dar of the Correspondence of Richard Baxter, 1st edn, 2 vol. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991),
1:43. See also Richard Baxter, Richard Baxter’s Penitent Confession and his necessary Vindica-
tion in Answer to a Book called, The second Part of the Mischiefs of Separation, written by an
unnamed Author. With a Preface to Mr Cantianus D Minimis, in Answer to his Letter which
exhorted this Publication, 1st edn (London: For Tho. Parkhurst, 1691), 24. Baxter says he was also
helped in this transition by the hypothetical universalist writings of Westminster Assembly Pro-
locuter William Twisse (Baxter, Catholick Theologie, 1:a2v; Baxter, Certain Disputations, B3r). It
is also to be noted that it was not the writings of John Cameron or Moïse Amyraut that at first
influenced Baxter.
—————
148
Keeble and Nuttall, ed., Calendar, 1:168.
Mark A. Herzer
7.1 Introduction
What did God promise Adam? The Westminster Confession of Faith de-
clares that “life was promised to Adam” (7.2) and the Shorter and Larger
Catechisms indicate that God entered into a “covenant of life with him”
(LC, #20; SC, #12). What is not explicitly stated is the kind of life promised
to Adam. No divine would have disagreed with those statements because
they were not controversial. But what kind of life would Adam have re-
ceived had he perfectly obeyed? Not surprisingly, a diversity of answers
surrounded this question.
Rowland Ward believes no consensus existed regarding the nature of
life promised to Adam at the time of the Westminster Assembly (1647).1
This may explain why the WCF itself is so indecisive on this. The Socini-
ans were the main targets of those who held to the alleged unorthodox posi-
tion on Adam’s reward and this may have been the main reason for the
consensus that supposedly emerged at the end of the seventeenth century.
Francis Turretin (1623–1687) claimed that his was “the received opinion
among the orthodox.” He says “that the promise given to Adam was not
only of a happy life to be continued in paradise, but of a heavenly and eter-
nal life […].”2 He and others advanced this position at the height of protes-
tant orthodoxy.
Early in the eighteenth century, men such as Thomas Boston (1676–
1732), Thomas Ridgley (1667–1734), and John Brown (1722–1787) em-
braced a position similar to that of Turretin.3 However, there were important
—————
1
Rowland S. Ward, God and Adam: Reformed Theology and the Creation Covenant
(Wantirna, Australia: New Melbourne Press, 2003), 108.
2
Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, translated by G. M. Giger (Phillipsburg,
NJ: R&R Publishing, 1992–1997), VIII.vi.3; cf. VIII.iii.15.
3
Thomas Boston, The Complete Works of the Late Rev. Thomas Boston (London: William
Tegg & Co., 1853), 8:17; Thomas Ridgley, A Body of Divinity: Wherein the Doctrines of the
Christian Religion are Explained and Defended, Being the Substance of Several Lectures on the
Assembly's Larger Catechism, 4 vol. (Philadelphia: William W. Woodward, 1814–15), 2:85ff.;
John Brown, A Compendious View of Natural and Revealed Religion (London: J. & C. Muirhead,
1817), 200ff.
—————
4
John Gill, A Complete Body of Practical and Doctrinal Divinity (Philadelphia: B. Graves,
1810), 222; Jonathan Edwards, The Works of Jonathan Edwards, 18, The ‘Miscellanies’ (Entry
Nos. 501–832), ed. Ava Chamberlain (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000), 512–516.
5
Systematic Theology (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1986), 2:119. Since it is beyond the purview
of this paper, we will not interact with nineteenth-century theologians except to say that Robert L.
Dabney and James H. Thornwell merely talked about “life” without any reference to issue we are
pursuing. See Robert L. Dabney, Systematic Theology (1871; repr., Carlisle, PA: The Banner of
Truth Trust, 1985), 302; James Henley Thornwell, The Collected Writings of James Henley
Thornwell (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1986), 1:270. This suggests that the “received
opinion” was not as universally received or acknowledged (not with the same kind of specificity).
6
Heinrich Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, translated by G. T. Thomson (Grand Rapids: Baker
Book House, 1950), 294–5. He cites the Formula Consensus Helvetica to support his position (as
well as Heidegger).
7
Pelagius thought that Adam would naturally die (see Bucanus, Body of Divinity [London,
1659], 127) as did the Socinians (see Turretin, Institutes, VIII.vi.1) Turretin cites Socinus,
Praelectionis theologicae 1; and Volkelius, De vera Religione 3.11. See also Valentin Smalcius
and Faustus Socinus, The Racovian catechisme (Amsterdam, 1652), 10–11.
8
Amandus Polanus, The Substance of Christian Religion, 2nd ed., translated by Elijah Wil-
cocks (London, 1597), 96; Partitiones Theologicae, 2nd ed. (London, 1591), 53.
9
For example, Samuel Petto says that Adam was to “seek eternal life in the way of his own
obedience […].” He is not explicit but, like Polanus, implies eternal life in heaven. See Samuel
Petto, The difference between the old and new covenant stated and explained with an exposition of
the covenant of grace in the principal concernments of it (London, 1674), 2, 8.
—————
15
Works, 7:49.
16
Chapter five is covered in pp. 44–48 while chapter six covers pp. 48–53.
17
Works, 7:57. The seventh chapter is covered on pp. 54–69. We will come back to this chap-
ter.
18
Works, 7:44.
it, was natural.”19 This knowledge came to him by creation while the
knowledge of God for the redeemed comes to us by faith: “And thus, to
love God above all, to believe on him, &c., was to Adam but the dictate of
pure nature.” Even the use and observance of the Sabbath was “natural” to
Adam “by the light of common infused principles, and by observation of
God’s works to be improved.” On the one hand, Goodwin concludes that
Adam in his best condition “is called animal and natural” (citing 1 Cor
15:45, 46). Redeemed believers, on the other hand, are called “spiritual or
supernatural.”20 Goodwin developed this line of theological reasoning to
prepare the reader for his argument on the foedus naturae.
In chapter six, Goodwin develops the manner in which the prelapsarian
Adam relates to the covenant. Since Adam was no higher than “the sphere
of nature”, the covenant in which he stood “under was but foedus
naturae.”21 Though the phrase foedus naturae was often used interchangea-
bly with such phrases as foedus operum and foedus creationis among Re-
formed theologians, yet Goodwin has deliberately focused on a more nar-
row reading of the term.22 Since everything Adam did in his integrity was
natural, his righteousness and his justification were natural. Justification
“was a natural due to the creature” for obeying. God’s approbation of his
goodness was therefore “natural.” If Adam’s obedience naturally necessi-
tated a reward, then was God indebted to him? It was by “way of natural
justice” between “a just creator and an holy creature.” This debitum natu-
rale is a “debt of nature, and not a debt of retribution in a mercenary way.”23
Since Adam’s knowledge, obedience, state of integrity, etc., were all
natural, the reward must be of the same kind: “Answerably, the reward, the
promised life and happiness that he should have had for doing and obeying,
was but the continuance of the same happy life which he enjoyed in para-
—————
19
Works, 7:47.
20
Works, 7:48.
21
Works, 7:48–9. Goodwin’s use of this term is not unique to himself. It existed in men like
Ursinus and others. See Lyle D. Bierma, “Law and Grace in Ursinus’ Doctrine of the Natural
Covenant: A Reappraisal,” in Protestant Scholasticism: Essays in Reassessment, ed. Carl R.
Trueman and R. Scott Clark (Carlisle, Cumbria: Paternoster Press, 1999), 96–110.
22
Goodwin later on narrows the definition of the covenant of works: “Seeing all other things
belonging to him were natural, his covenant, the covenant of works, was but foedus naturae,
founded upon the title of what, as a reasonable creature, was due to his nature […]” (Works, 7:56).
For a good overview of the way the phrase “covenant of works” was used in conjunction with
covenant of nature, covenant of creation, etc. see Willem J. van Asselt, The Federal Theology of
Johannes Cocceius (1603–1669), translated by Raymond A. Blacketer, Studies in the History of
Christian Thought (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2001), 254–257; Richard Muller, “The Covenant of Works
and the Stability of Divine Law in Seventeenth-Century Reformed Orthodoxy,” in After Calvin:
Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition (New York: Oxford University Press,
2003), 181–183.
23
Works, 7:49.
—————
30
Works, 7:52.
31
Works, 7:54. God’s revelation in the garden suggests the existence of supernatural revela-
tion. This knowledge therefore is above nature (and would also require supernatural faith). Good-
win answers that in chapter seven and argues at length that Adam’s faith was natural and all that
he had was “still but within the compass of nature” (54).
32
“And I confess, if the promise given him had been that of heaven, and the vision of God, as
there, then it had been necessary for him to have such a supernatural faith as we” (Works, 7:57).
33
Works, 7:61–62.
34
Works, 7:67ff.
35
Works, 7:69.
36
Works, 7:59; cf. 2:342.
37
See especially pp. 73–74 where he says, “I proceed to show how Adam and his whole story
was intended by God as a more imperfect type going before, to signify and set forth Christ […]
and that not simply upon the fall, but before in his first creation and estate of innocency.”
—————
38
Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, translated by G. M. Giger (Phillipsburg,
NJ: R&R Publishing, 1992–1997), 1:583 (VIII.vi.1–2); Francisco Turrettino, Institutio theologiae
elencticae (Geneva, 1688–90), 1:642.
39
Goodwin says that eternal life was a gift while eternal death was rightly due; the first came
by grace and the latter came about from works. See Works, 7:52.
40
J. Mark Beach, Christ and the Covenant: Francis Turretin’s Federal Theology as a Defense
of the Doctrine of Grace (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007), 134.
—————
41
He develops this same argument later on in VIII.vi.15.
42
Turretin also notes that had man remained perpetually on earth after the test, the population
of the earth would have increased beyond earth’s capacity (VIII.vi.9). This was considered by
Ezekiel Hopkins (1634–1690) to be the greatest problem associated with the view that taught that
Adam was promised perpetual life on earth, see “The Doctrine of the Two Covenants,” in The
Works of Ezekiel Hopkins (Philadelphia, 1874), 2:157. The problem is also noted by Blake, Vindi-
cae Foederis, 101.
43
For example, Goodwin takes on the argument that man’s highest good would be fellowship
with God in heaven. He says it would have been “an unlawful and an inordinate desire in him”
because he desired more than what God promised (Works, 7:52–53).
44
Neither Goodwin nor Turretin refers to each other. They simply interact with the arguments
generally advanced by the opposing side on this theological question.
45
Works, 7:51.
Comparing the two divines reveals that both of them utilized scholastic
distinctions in this debate. They made use of observations found in Medie-
val theology while advancing reformed orthodoxy. Though Thomas Good-
win’s Reformed Orthodoxy remains unquestionable,48 his idea of natural
justice and man in pure nature had a long history in Medieval theology.
Aquinas used 1 Corinthians 15:45 to argue that Adam was not created in
grace. Furthermore, he uses 1 Corinthians 15:46 to speak of Adam’s “natu-
ral life” and his inability to see God’s essence.49 Calvin also spoke of origi-
nal justice and “natural law” as did the Medieval theologians.50 Clearly,
Goodwin used categories reminiscent of both the Reformers as well as the
Medieval divines. This continuity with the scholastic tradition, though
expected, had some differences as well. Goodwin seems to have gone fur-
ther than most Reformed divines in depicting Adam almost as pure nature.51
—————
46
See pp. 48, 49, 62, 73, 76–91 (ch. 9). Much hinges on his exegesis of this passage.
47
For example, Guillaume Bucanus argued that if Adam had not sinned he would have been
removed into heaven “indeed without death (which is the dissolution of the soule from the body)
but yet not without some change […].” (Body of Divinity, translated by Robert Hill [London,
1659], 127); William Bates, A sermon preached upon the much lamented death of our late gra-
cious sovereign, Queen Mary (London, 1695), 11: “If he had persevered in his Obedience, after a
short Immortality on Earth, he had ascended to Heaven alive in his intire Person, but he must have
been changed in his Ascension, for Flesh and Blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of Heaven.”
48
See Mark Jones, Why Heaven Kissed Earth, passim.
49
Aquinas, Summa Theologica, P(1)–Q(95)–A(1)–O(1–2); Q(95)–A(1).
50
Calvin, Interim Adultero-Germanum: cui adiecta est vera Christianae pacificationis, et ec-
clesiae reformandae ratio, in the section “De Conditione Hominis Lapsum”; Henry Beveridge,
ed., The Interim, or Declaration of Religion of His Imperial Majesty Charles V, Selected Works of
John Calvin: Tracts and Letters, vol. 3 (Edinburgh: Calvin Translation Society, 1849; repr., Grand
Rapids: Baker Book House, 1983), 193–194. For references to the natural law in Calvin, see Peter
A. Lillback, The Binding of God: Calvin’s Role in the Development of Covenant Theology (Grand
Rapids: Baker Book House, 2001), 279–80.
51
Not in puris naturalibus in the Roman Catholic sense; Adam was endowed with righteous-
ness and created in the image of God. Goodwin could affirm Turrretin’s discussion of this matter
(V.x.1–11) and develops the same idea, although he does not use the exact same language. Re-
member, Goodwin does speak of the “pure nature in Adam” (Works, 7:59). Goodwin’s vigorous
As noted above, the motivation was to set up a stark contrast with the sec-
ond Adam, Christ. He goes to great length to deny anything supernatural in
Adam. Whereas Medieval theologians argued for a donum superadditum to
elevate man, Goodwin simply relegated Adam to the whole realm of nature
by utilizing foedus naturae (common to most seventeenth-century reformed
orthodox divines).52 That is, what the Papists added as extra grace to Adam,
Goodwin subsumed under pure nature.
Mark Karlberg demonstrates that the use of this scholastic distinction
between nature and grace in Adam among Protestant orthodox divines was
their attempt “to preserve the graciousness of the first covenant with
Adam.” He is convinced that this was a “speculative and dualistic distinc-
tion” and “as a result, the covenant order was set over against the natural
order of creation.” He sees this as a “revision to an older view” and finds it
in men such as Francis Junius, Johannes Cloppenburg, and David Dickson.
He insists that this is a “significant revision of Calvinistic doctrine regard-
ing creation and God’s covenant with Adam.”53 Furthermore, he rightly
finds this expressed in the Westminster Confession of Faith (7.1) and the
Shorter Catechism (the covenant being a “special act of providence”). The
most interesting observation he makes is that this distinction enabled the
divines to draw the following conclusion: “natural life was contingent upon
good works (merit); eternal life was nonmeritorious.”54 This observation
seemingly rings true in some measure, especially in Goodwin. But under
closer scrutiny, even Goodwin would not have accepted the “merit” versus
“nonmeritorious” dichotomy. In fact, he carefully avoided that schema. It
was not a “revision to an older view” but instead a true maturing develop-
ment or improvement of Reformed orthodoxy. Most of the seventeenth-
—————
argument for the natural state of Adam apparently was a hotly contested issue. John Ball says,
“Whether this was naturall or supernaturall unto the first man, is a question needlesse to be dis-
puted in this place, and peradventure if the termes be rightly understood, will be no great contro-
versie” (A Treatise of the Covenant of Grace, 11). Anthony Burgess insists that some things were
supernatural in Adam, Vindiciae legis (London, 1647), 133.
52
The language is explicitly found earlier in Ursinus and Olevianus. See Bierma, “Law and
Grace in Ursinus’ Doctrine of the Natural Covenant: A Reappraisal,” 96–110; Peter Lillback,
“Ursinus’ Development of the Covenant of Creation: A Debt to Melanchthon or Calvin?,” West-
minster Theological Journal 43 (1981): 247–88. Cf. Charles S. McCoy and J. Wayne Baker,
Fountainhead of Federalism: Heinrich Bullinger and the Covenantal Tradition (Louisville:
Westminster John Knox Press, 1991), 36–39.
53
Mark W. Karlberg, “The Original State of Adam: Tensions Within Reformed Theology,”
Evangelical Quarterly 59:4 (1987): 295–300. This essay was republished with some spelling
corrections in his Covenant Theology in Reformed Perspective (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock
Publishers, 2000), 95–106. In the republished version he has “revision to an older view” while the
journal article had “revision to an order view.” I take it that the republished version is the more
accurate one.
54
Karlberg, “The Original State of Adam,” 300.
—————
55
Works, 7:49.
56
We read something similar in Anthony Burgess when he says that God entered into a cove-
nant with him. “But in God it is not, because he doth not hereby become obliged to us, to his own
self: so that we have not a right of justice to the thing, because God hath promised it to us; but only
God cannot deny himself nor his word, and therefore we are confident” (Vindiciae legis, 126–27).
57
In another context, Goodwin states that God was not a debtor to Adam in the strictest sense.
But there was a certain “dueness and a meetness” between the Creator and the creature. He avoids
merit language and will go so far as to speak of some sort of “justice” in the covenant of works but
not in the sense that the Creator is obliged, see Works, 2:223 (I am indebted to Mark Jones for
referring me to this passage).
58
Cf. J. Ball, A treatise of the covenant of grace, 10: “In this state and condition Adams obe-
dience should have been rewarded in justice, but he could not have merited that reward […] for it
is impossible the creature should merit of the Creator […]” Also, David Clarkson, A discourse of
the saving grace of God (London, 1688), 122: “Eternal Life had not been due to Adam, if he had
performed perfect Obedience; it was only the Promise intitled him to it.” Idem, The Practical
Works (Edinburgh: James Nichol, 1864–65), I, 20: “Perfect obedience performed by Adam in the
state of innocency had not been meritorious, could not deserve eternal life, suae naturae, in its
—————
own nature, for it was but his duty; nor was eternal happiness due to it in justice, as the nature of
merit requires, but only by virtue of the promise, vi pacti […]” A. Burgess, Vindiciae legis, 119:
“If God required obedience of Adam to keep the law, and happinesse thereupon, it was due not by
way of merit, but condcency to Gods goodnesse, to furnish him with abilities to performe it […]”
“[…] though it were a Covenant of works, it cannot be said to be of merit. Adam though in inno-
cency, could not merit that happinesse which God would bestow upon him […]” (125). Patrick
Gillespie said, “For there was no merit in Adams obedience […] or in ours” (The Ark of the Testa-
ment Opened, 221).
59
Works, 7:51.
60
Works, 7:49.
61
Turretin, VIII.vi.4; Goodwin, Works, 7:50–51.
—————
62
Philip Limborch, Theologia christiana (Amsterdam, 1715), III.ii.5. Cf. John Mark Hicks,
“The Theology of Grace in the Thought of Jacobus Arminius and Philip van Limborch: A Study in
the Development of Seventeenth Century Dutch Arminianism,” (Ph. D. Dissertation, Westminster
Theological Seminary, 1985), 113ff. Also see Richard A. Muller, “The Federal Motif in Seven-
teenth Century Arminian Theology,” Nederlands Archief voor Kerkgeschiedenis 62 (1982): 115–
121. Muller gives a full account of Limborch’s “covenant-motif.”
63
Peter Bulkeley, The Gospel Covenant, 55.
64
Holmes Rolston, III, John Calvin versus the Westminster Confession (Richmond, VA: John
Knox, 1972).
position with little exposition. For example, Edward Leigh believed there
was “the promise of eternal life” and argues that Adam’s immortality was
contingent.65 But he does not explicitly argue the nature of that eternal life.
Polemical issues are raised concerning other things but not on this.
Most did believe that Adam’s reward was ultimately heaven.66 Richard
Baxter originally asserted that Adam would have continued in paradise had
he obeyed (in his Aphorismes), but 26 years later, his position changed and
he ended up believing that “man should have been translated to Heaven.”67
The popular Thomas Brooks asserted, “Had Adam never sinned, Adam had
never died; had Adam stood fast in innocency, he should have been trans-
lated to glory without dissolution.”68 Thomas Watson clearly and succinctly
states, “In case Man had stood, it is probable he had not died, but had been
translated to a better Paradise.”69 William Whately believed that Adam had
“the hope and assurance of Eternall life upon condition of their obedience,
of which Paradise it selfe and the tree of life were signes unto them. For if
wee should live the life of glory by obeying the Law, so should they have
done seeing they also were under the same Covenant of workes that we be
under.”70 Similarly, John Maynard said that Adam was “living the life of
nature […] and a supernatural life too […] and, had he continued in that
estate, he should have conveyed the same life, both natural and supernatural
to his posterity […]”71 George Lawson was much more explicit: “The thing
promised was Life, and the same not onely bodily and spiritual, but eternall:
Yet this life was not a new being, but the happinesse of the former Being.
And this happinesse was not merely a continuance of that present estate, he
enjoyed in Paradise but a farr higher condition which might reach Heaven,
and come neere the blisse of Angels […].”72 Junius’ asserted that God had
promised Adam and Eve “supernatural life” (vitam supernaturalem) and
—————
65
Edward Leigh, A systeme or body of divinity consisting of ten books, wherein the fundamen-
tals and main grounds of religion are opened [...] (London, 1662), 363–64.
66
Mark Beach and Rowland Ward have given a list of various seventeenth-century writers
who have written on this topic; see Beach, Christ and the Covenant, 130 n.157 and Ward, God and
Adam, 108–111. I have for the most part added new names to the list.
67
Richard Baxter, Catholic theologie (London, 1675), 2nd Part, 6. For his earlier view, see
Aphorismes of Justification (London, 1649), 14–15.
68
Thomas Brooks, Paradice opened […] (London: Printed for Dorman Newman, 1675), 13.
69
Thomas Watson, A body of practical divinity […] (London: Printed for Thomas Parkurst,
1692), 74.
70
William Whately, Prototypes […] (London: Printed by G. M., 1640), 7.
71
John Maynard, The beauty and order of the creation […] (London: Printed by T. M., 1668),
188.
72
George Lawson, A body of divinity […] (London: Printed by J. Streater, for Francis Tyton,
1659), 57. Thomas Blake says that the life promised “was not barely a propagation of his being.”
See The covenant sealed (London: Printed for Abel Roper, 1655), 11.
One would expect a legalistic tendency on this question since these men
wrote on what kind of “reward” Adam received. Is not arguing about re-
wards a deviation from the high emphasis on grace that John Calvin taught?
As is well known, Rolston argues that the Westminster Confession is a
return to the legalism from which the great magisterial Reformers liberated
us. The development of the “covenant of works” which was completely
absent in Calvin emerged to deaden grace. “That it is by a name a covenant
of works has a very deadening effect on anything said about grace. The
overall emphasis was that God did not come to primal man in a relationship
of grace, for man did not yet need that grace, but stood by his works.”77
Much more has been written to counter Rolston but we will use “Adam’s
Reward” to give his thesis another test. Did these seventeenth-century di-
vines fall into legalism on account of their use of the covenant of works?
We have seen how careful Goodwin was in describing the terms of
Adam’s existence in the foedus naturae. It was never in a “mercenary way.”
Other writers, like William Lyford goes a step further and says that this of
the Covenant of Life: “[…] in this Covenant there was some kind of grace,
because God might have required Obedience at his Creatures hands, with-
out any such promise […].”78 Furthermore, the reward was “above the merit
of Adam’s obedience.”79 Then he says, “Thirdly, especially considering that
Adams ability to perform that condition of Life, was of Gods own donation;
and this is almost as much Grace some men allow in the new Covenant.”80
Here, this covenant of works was considered one of grace. Many divines
saw the offer of life to be greater than Adam’s obedience and viewed it with
awe and wonder: “What a God must he be, who will come downe and put
himself in a lovely and gaining capacitie to be a Covenanting debtour to our
feeble obedience, whereas he ow[e]s nothing, and to make heaven and glory
so sure to us, that the heavens should sooner break and melt, like snow
—————
77
John Calvin versus the Westminster Confession, 17. Donald Bruggink argues similarly in
“Calvin and Federal Theology,” The Reformed Review 13 (1959–60): 15–22. He even suggests
that Richard Baxter’s neonomianism was “facilitated by the triple covenant scheme” (19). Brug-
gink further argues that the introduction of foedus operum “set the mood for putting works be-
tween man and God” (20). Federalism also led to the weakening of the doctrine of the church (20–
21). One is at a loss as to how to respond to these kinds of fallacious arguments.
78
Cf. Thomas Boston said, “[…] there was grace and free favour in the first covenant […].”
(Complete Works, 8:18).
79
Cf. John Ball, A treatise of the covenant of grace, 9: “This Covenant God made in Justice;
yet so as it was of Grace likewise to make such a free promise, and to bestow so great things upon
man for his obedience.” Thomas Boston taught similarly: “There was no proportion between the
work and the promised reward” (Complete Works, 8:18) as did Burgess, Vindiciae legis, 129.
Gillespie said, “[…] nor did his work bear proportion to the eternal reward promised for it” (The
ark of the testament opened, 221).
80
William Lyford, The plain mans senses exercised , 223. The good Adam would receive “did
farre exceed the power and ability of man” (Burgess, Vindiciae legis, 129).
and man; that estate was an estate of love and kindnesse, and friendship;
God was Adams friend, and Adam was a friend to God; they agreed to-
gether, and conversed as loving friends.”87 The covenant of works was
painted as a covenant of friendship to call attention to its goodness and
graciousness. Though it was not grace in the same sense as post-lapsarian
grace, it was “some kind of grace.” Gillespie spent considerable amount of
time showing how the Covenant of Works agreed with the Covenant of
Grace. In the fourteen ways in which they agree, one of the ways was that
they were both of grace: “They agree in this, that there was very much of
Grace Favour in both: the moving cause in both was meer Grace, […] yet
even the Covenant of Works […] even that Covenant was thus far a Cove-
nant of Grace.”88 These are simply stunning statements.
Grace is noted in Eden in the writings of both Calvin and the federal
theologians of the seventeenth century. Both Calvin and the federal theolo-
gians emphasized the obedience required of Adam, a point often over-
looked.89 There is continuity between the two; the language has been re-
fined but that was to be expected. Rolston and others believe this perverts
Calvin’s view of grace while Karlberg believes it was a “temporary set-
back.” Rolston argued that federalism taught a merit system so rejected it.
Karlberg believed that federalism should have accented strict merit in the
covenant of works and is dissatisfied with what he perceived to be “ten-
sions” in covenant theology. Rolston misreads the evidence and argues that
federalism got it wrong while Karlberg reads it correctly and believes the
Puritans confused the issue. Both have an idea of what federalism was
supposed to look like. Of the covenant of works, one says too much merit
and the other, not enough. Federal theology simply does not fit into their
pre-determined definitions.
At times, these seventeenth-century divines highlighted the “works” of
the covenant. Though they avoided strict merit language, they did at times
accentuate Adam’s required obedience, its legal element. But they did it to
emphasize the sheer graciousness and superiority of the Covenant of Grace.
They never underscored the works element for its own sake as if it were the
terms of salvation. Bruggink says, “[…] the federal structure played a cul-
pable part in this theological ascendancy of works.”90 This is a complete
—————
87
Obadiah Sedgwick, The bowels of tender mercy sealed in the everlasting covenant (London,
1661), 9. Friendship with God in the foedus operum was used by Cocceius and William Ames, see
Willem J. van Asselt, The Federal Theology of Johannes Cocceius (1603–1669), 256–57. Also
interesting is van Asselt’s “Amicitia Dei as Ultimate Reality: An Outline of the Covenant Theol-
ogy of Johannes Cocceius (1603–1669),” Ultimate Reality and Meaning. Interdisciplinary Studies
in the Philosophy of Understanding 21/1 (1998): 35–47.
88
The ark of the testament opened, 221.
89
This is perceptively noted by Muller in “The Covenant of Works and the Stability of Divine
Law,” 184.
90
“Calvin and Federal Theology,” 20.
7.6 Conclusion
—————
91
Gospel-conversation, 42ff.
92
The ark of the testament opened, 232ff.
93
For example, see Anthony Hoekema, The Bible and the Future (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
1979) and Cornelis P. Venema, The Promise of the Future (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth
Trust, 2000).
the final answer to the question did not materially affect much – it is suffi-
cient that God promised a blessed life.
The covenant of works, we have tried to show, was not “legalistic” as
some of the writers have tried to argue. We have seen that a great many of
the divines argued for the presence of God’s grace in the covenant of na-
ture. The exact meaning of what kind of “grace” they have in mind is not
always apparent. Condescending grace may be what they believed existed
in the original covenant; it definitely was not salvific grace. One thing be-
comes apparent though, the idea of “strict merit” or “strict justice” is as-
siduously avoided.
Lastly, perhaps the Westminster divines struck the perfect balance on
this question. They stated that life was promised to Adam. With this, all
Reformed orthodox divines would have agreed. It appears that the Formula
Consensus Helvetica’s statement on Adam’s reward effectively answers the
Salmurian view of the three covenants. Adam’s natural covenant differed
from the legal and evangelical covenants.94 Though there is no evidence that
the three covenant view leads to Adam’s earthly reward, Turretin sought to
demolish the De tribus foederibus divinis view along with their view of
Adam’s reward.95 What did The Formula Consensus Helvetica gain from
Canon VIII (its affirmations regarding Adam’s heavenly reward)? Nothing
seems to have been at stake. The one thing that appears problematic is the
way Amyraut used Adam’s reward as part of the progressive redemptive
historical revelation of God’s plan (blessed life in Eden, in Canaan, and
then in heaven).96 Perhaps Turretin wanted to destroy Salmurian theology,
root and branch? But in so doing, he and Heidegger effectively cut off good
British men such as Goodwin and Burroughs in Canon VIII. If Canon VIII
is the received opinion among the orthodox, then why did so many ortho-
dox divines teach differently? Fortunately, the Formula Consensus
Helvetica did not achieve wide acceptance.97
—————
94
Klauber, “The Helvetic Formula Consensus,” 108; Beach, Christ and the Covenant, 301ff.;
Philip Schaff, ed., The Creeds of Christendom (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1985), 1:489;
Brian Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy (Madison: The University of Wisconsin
Press, 1969), 143ff. Canon XXV: “We disapprove therefore of the doctrine of those who fabricate
for us three Covenants, the Natural, the Legal, and the Gospel, different in their entire nature and
essence; and in explaining these and assigning their differences, so intricately entangle themselves
that they greatly obscure and even impair the nucleus of solid truth and piety. Nor do they hesitate
at all, with regard to the necessity, under the OT dispensation, of knowledge of Christ and faith in
him and his satisfaction and in the whole sacred Trinity, to speculate much too loosely and dan-
gerously.”
95
Institutes, XIII.xii.1ff.
96
Armstrong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy, 146.
97
Klauber, “The Helvetic Formula Consensus,” 114–15.
Mark Jones
8.1 Introduction
—————
1
John Owen, An Exposition of the Epistle to the Hebrews in TheWorks of John Owen, D.D.
24 vol. (Edinburgh: Johnstone & Hunter, 1850–55), 23:68–69.
2
Institutes of the Christian Religion 3.17.5 (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press,
2008).
—————
3
For example, Trinterud argues the following: “For Calvin, and so in the Geneva Bible, the
covenant of God is God’s promise to man, which obligates God to fulfill. Moreover, in the incar-
nation, death and resurrection of Christ God did actually fulfill that promise to which his covenant
bound him. Therefore, the sacraments are witnesses, attestations, or seals to the effect that God has
long since fulfilled his covenant, his promise. Therefore, covenant and testament are identical. In
the covenant theory of the Rhineland and of the English reformers the covenant is a conditional
promise on God’s part, which has the effect of drawing out of man a responding promise of
obedience, thus creating a mutual pact or treaty. The burden of fulfillment rests upon man, for he
must first obey in order to bring God’s reciprocal obligation into force. Theologically, of course,
the difference between these two views is of the greatest moment.” (“The Origins of Puritanism,”
Church History 20 [1951]: 45). Two responses to Trinterud are particularly noteworthy. See J.
Mark Beach, Christ and the Covenant: Francis Turretin’s Federal Theology As a Defense of the
Doctrine of Grace (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007), 22–64; John Von Rohr, The
Covenant of Grace in Puritan Thought (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1986), 17–33. Von Rohr’s
statement on page 33 sums up the issue with regard to Puritan covenant theology rather well: “For
the mainstream of Puritanism, therefore, it would appear that basically the bilateral and the unilat-
eral were conjoined, human responsibility and divine sovereignty were unitedly maintained, and
the covenant of grace was seen as both conditional and absolute.”
4
Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms: Drawn Principally from Protestant Scho-
lastic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2004), 120.
5
See John Ball, A treatise of the covenant of grace wherein the graduall breakings out of
Gospel grace from Adam to Christ are clearly discovered, the differences betwixt the Old and New
Testament are laid open, divers errours of Arminians and others are confuted, the nature of
uprightnesse, and the way of Christ in bringing the soul into communion with himself [...] (Lon-
don, 1645).
6
See, for example, Robert Letham, “The Foedus Operum: Some Factors Accounting for Its
Development,” Sixteenth Century Journal 14 (1983), 457–68; David A. Weir, The Origins of the
Federal Theology in Sixteenth-Century Reformation Thought (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990).
7
See Willem J. van Asselt, The Federal Theology of Johannes Cocceius (Leiden: E.J. Brill),
254–57. He lists the following terms: foedus naturae (covenant of nature); foedus naturale (natural
covenant); foedus creationis (covenant of creation); foedus legale (covenant of law); amicitia cum
Deo (friendship with God); foedus operum (covenant of works).
—————
8
See Peter Lillback’s argument in The Binding of God: Calvin’s Role in the Development of
Covenant Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2001), 276–304.
9
For Fenner’s explicit use of foedus operam, see Sacra theologia, sive, Veritas quae est
secundum pietatem (1585), 88. Michael McGiffert recognizes Fenner’s importance in the devel-
opment of this doctrine. See “From Moses to Adam: The Making of the Covenant of Works,” The
Sixteenth Century Journal 19, No. 2 (Summer 1988), 131–155.
10
The doctrine of the covenant of works has received criticism from a number of well-known
theologians. In response to these criticisms, see Cornelis P. Venema, “Recent Criticisms of the
Covenant of Works in the Westminster Confession of Faith,” Mid-America Journal of Theology 9
(Fall 1993), 165–198.
as here.”11 Burgess was not alone in his assessment of how complex this
point of theology was among the Reformed orthodox.
The highly regarded covenant theologian, John Ball (1585–1640), noted
that most divines understood the old and new covenants (Heb 8; 2 Cor 3) to
be “one in substance and kind, to differ only in degrees: but in setting down
the differences they speake so obscurely, that it is hard to find how they
consent with themselves.”12 John Owen agrees with Ball that most Re-
formed divines have understood the differences between the old and new
covenants to be different administrations of the one covenant of grace. And
he contrasts this “Reformed” position with the “Lutheran” view that argues
“not a twofold administration of the same covenant, but that two covenants
substantially distinct” are intended by Paul when he refers to the old and
new covenants in Hebrews 8:6.13 Though insisting on the unity of the cove-
nant of grace, Owen joins the Lutherans by insisting that the old and new
covenants are two distinct covenants, “rather than a twofold administration
of the same covenant.”14 In other words, the old covenant was “not a mere
administration of the covenant of grace.”15 The complexity of the debate is
exacerbated by the fact that Owen’s position seems to be one of many
among the British Reformed orthodox during the seventeenth century.
These positions will be discussed below, but there is no question that while
there is basic agreement among Reformed theologians on the unity of the
covenant of grace, and the distinction between the covenants of works and
grace, they certainly did not agree on the function of the old covenant in the
history of redemption.
—————
11
Vindiciae legis: or, A vindication of the morall law and the covenants, from the errours of
papists, Arminians, Socinians, and more especially, Antinomians (London, 1646), 219.
12
A treatise of the covenant of grace wherein the graduall breakings out of Gospel grace from
Adam to Christ are clearly discovered, the differences betwixt the Old and New Testament are laid
open (London, 1645), 95.
13
Exposition of Hebrews 23:73. Anthony Burgess makes the same point: “It is true, the Lu-
theran Divines, they do expresly oppose the Calvinists herein, maintaining the Covenant given by
Moses, to be a Covenant of works, and so directly contrary to the Covenant of grace. Indeed, they
acknowledge that the Fathers were justified by Christ, and had the same way of salvation with us;
only they make that Covenant of Moses to be a superadded thing to the Promise, holding forth a
condition of perfect righteousness unto the Jews, that they might be convinced of their own folly
in their self-righteousness. But, I think, it is already cleared, that Moses his Covenant, was a
Covenant of grace.” Vindiciae legis, 251.
14
Exposition of Hebrews 23:76.
15
Exposition of Hebrews 23:77.
8.2 Taxonomies
—————
19
De triplici Dei cum homine foedere theses (Heidelberg, 1608), VII. Samuel Bolton (1606–
1654) provides an English translation of Cameron’s work in The true bounds of Christian
freedome. Or a treatise wherein the rights of the law are vindicated, the liberties of grace main-
tained; and the several late opinions against the law are examined and confuted. Whereunto is
annexed a discourse of the learned John Camerons, touching the three-fold covenant of God with
man, faithfully translated (London, 1656), 351–401. Petto also adopts a “trichotomist” structure:
“It is in no way incongruous to speak of three Covenants, seeing that with Adam is generally
acknowledged to be One, and here [i.e., Gal. 4:24] the Scripture expressly speaketh of two Cove-
nants and that with Adam is none of them.” The difference between the old and new covenant, 94.
20
The True Doctrine of Justification Asserted & Vindicated (London, 1654), 375–76.
21
Vindiciae Legis, 251. The Westminster Confession makes clear that there “are not therefore
two covenants of grace, differing in substance, but one and the same, under various dispensations”
(7.6).
22
See Brenton C. Ferry, “Works in the Mosaic Covenant: A Reformed Taxonomy” in The
Law is Not of Faith: Essays on Works and Grace in the Mosaic Covenant, ed. Bryan D. Estelle,
J.V. Fesko, & David VanDrunen (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2009), 76–105. Ferry makes a number of
criticisms of past taxonomies in the secondary literature. However, Ferry commits a few errors
himself. Nevertheless, his taxonomy remains generally helpful in understanding the diversity of
opinions on the matter.
23
See “Is the Narrative of Redemptive History Trichotomous or Dichotomous? A Problem for
Federal Theology,” Nederlands archief voor kergeschiedenis 80 (2000): 296–308.
24
“The Narrative of Redemptive History,” 302.
pel [given] without the Law.”29 The positive function of the law (i.e., “old
covenant”) finds its basis in the God’s gracious promises and acts of grace,
which were not limited to the New Covenant era.
Anthony Burgess, another proponent of the dichotomist position, recog-
nizes that among the “Learned and Orthodoxe” there are roughly four posi-
tions concerning the old covenant: “Some […] make it a Covenant of
workes, others a mixt Covenant, some a subservient Covenant; but I am
perswaded to goe with those who hold it to be a Covenant of Grace.”30 He
maintains that the arguments for his position outweigh the difficulties
brought against it. By proving that the old covenant belongs to the covenant
of grace, Burgess feels that the “dignity and excellency of the Law will
appeare the more.”31 His view of the moral law, that is, its dignity and ex-
cellence, fits well within the dichotomous structure of redemptive history,
and best reflects the consensus position of the Westminster documents.
However, Burgess refers to several different understandings of how Sinai
may be said to be an administration of the covenant of grace.32 The view he
adopts belongs to that Reformed tradition found in the writings of John
Calvin, Heinrich Bullinger (1504–1575), Zacharias Ursinus (1534–1583),
Peter Bulkeley (1583–1659) and Francis Turretin (1623–1687), who distin-
guish between the law taken largely and strictly.33
So, Burgess notes that the law may be understood largely, “as that
whole doctrine delivered on Mount Sinai, with the preface and promises
adjoyned, and all things that may be reduced to it; or more strictly, as it is
an abstracted rule of righteousness, holding forth life upon no termes, but
perfect obedience.”34 Taken largely the law was a covenant of grace; taken
strictly, “abstracted from Moses […] it was not of grace, but workes.”35
Francis Roberts adds another distinction to help clarify his own contention
that Sinai was an administration of the covenant of faith (i.e., grace). He
—————
29
A treatise of the covenant of grace, 102. See also Francis Roberts, Mysterium & medulla
Bibliorum the mysterie and marrow of the Bible, viz. God’s covenant with man in the first Adam
before the fall, and in the last Adam, Iesus Christ, after the fall, from the beginning to the end of
the world (London, 1657), 778.
30
Vindiciae legis, 222. Francis Roberts (1609–1675) provides an identical taxonomy in his
massive work on the covenants. See Mysterium & medulla, 738–39.
31
Vindiciae legis, 222.
32
Vindiciae legis, 222–23.
33
John Calvin, Calvin: Institutes of the Christian Religion 2.7.1–9; 2.9.1–5 (Louisville, KY:
Westminster John Knox Press, 2008); Heinrich Bullinger, Common Places of Christian Religion,
trans. John Stockwood (London, 1572), 96–102; Zacharias Ursinus, The Commentary of Dr.
Zacharias Ursinus on the Heidelberg Catechism, trans. G.W. Williard (Columbus, Ohio, 1852),
23–29; Peter Bulkeley, The Gospel-Covenant (London, 1674), 196; Francis Turretin, Institutes of
Elenctic Theology 12.8.1–25, 3 vol. Ed. James T. Dennison, Jr. and trans. George Musgrave Giger
(Phillipsburg, N.J.: P&R Publishing, 1992).
34
Vindiciae legis, 223.
35
Vindiciae legis, 223.
—————
49
Mysterium & medulla, 761.
50
A treatise of the covenant of grace, 119.
51
Ernest F. Kevan provides a fairly detailed analysis of this argument in his work The Grace
of Law: A Study in Puritan Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1976), 119–134.
52
Vindiciae legis, 241. Richard Byfield (1598?–1664) similarly notes: “Heb 8.8.10. taken out
of Jer 31.31,32,33. which speaketh of a new & old Covenant, is thus to be understood; not of two
Covenants differing in substance […] but of one and the same Covenant of Grace distinguished in
their different manner of Administration […] Here also we see that a proof out of the old Testa-
ment is as much Gospel if rightly applied, as any in the New-Testament.” Temple-defilers defiled,
wherein a true visible Church of Christ is described (London, 1645), 38–39.
53
Vindiciae legis, 241.
54
Vindiciae legis, 241.
believe.”55 On this view, regarding justification the law is an enemy, but for
those who are justified (through faith in Christ) the law becomes a friend.
Consequently, based on the fact that the Israelites were already God’s peo-
ple when the old covenant was formally administered, the law did not op-
pose grace in terms of its normative function in the Christian life. In fact, as
the above has shown, God’s mercy, love, and forgiveness were displayed in
both the moral and ceremonial law. For these reasons, and many more,
Ernest Kevan has noted that “the Puritans clearly saw how inconceivable it
was to suppose that the Mosaic Covenant could be a cancellation of grace
or a reversion to a basis of salvation by works. They contended, therefore,
that the Mosaic Covenant could not possibly be inconsistent with grace.”56
This was indeed the case. However, not all of the Puritans would under-
stand the old covenant and its place in the history of redemption in quite the
same way as those above.
Sebastian Rehnman suggests that the debate over whether there are two
covenants (the majority view) or three covenants (Owen’s supposed posi-
tion) “is more formal than real.”57 Even if Owen does not belong in the
trichotomist camp, the question of what the actual differences between the
positions were, besides semantics, needs to be answered. To that end Alister
McGrath posits that the foedus subserviens employed by John Cameron
“appears to have represented an attempt to incorporate the Lutheran distinc-
tion between law and gospel within the context of a federal scheme.”58 In
fact, McGrath adds that Cameron “seems to have regarded the harmoniza-
tion of law and gospel implicit in the Orthodox Reformed two-fold cove-
nant scheme as compromising the doctrine of justification sola fide.”59
McGrath does not provide any primary source evidence, but his conclusions
warrant further exploration. Any evaluation of McGrath’s contentions de-
pends first upon understanding the position of Cameron and those who
agreed with him.
Cameron’s explains his threefold structuring of the divine covenants:
We say therefore that there is one covenant of nature, one of grace, and one subservi-
ent to the covenant of grace (which in Scripture is called the ‘old covenant’) and
therefore we will deal with that in the last instance, giving the first instance to the
—————
55
Gospel-covenant, 129.
56
The grace of law, 122.
57
“The Narrative of Redemptive History,” 302.
58
Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2005), 268–69.
59
Iustitia Dei, 269.
—————
60
De triplici Dei cum homine foedere theses,VII. Cf. Bolton, The true bounds of Christian
freedome, 356.
61
“Divine Covenants, Absolute and Conditional: John Cameron and the Early Orthodox De-
velopment of Reformed Covenant Theology,” Mid-America Journal of Theology 17 (2006), 37.
62
The work of the Holy Ghost in our salvation in The Works of Thomas Goodwin, 12 vol. (Ed-
inburgh: James Nichol, 1861–66; repr. Reformation Heritage Books, 2006), 6:354. Francis Roberts
also refers to Cameron as “learned Cameron” as he counters the idea of a subservient covenant.
Mysterium & medulla, 748.
63
The true bounds of Christian freedome, 137ff.
64
De triplici Dei cum homine foedere theses, LXVII (The true bounds of Christian freedome,
392).
Christ.”65 Cameron also highlights the discontinuities between the old and
new testaments, for during the old covenant the Israelites did not possess
the Spirit of adoption as those did in the new covenant.66 Moreover, in the
Old Testament the measure of the Spirit was “far different then from what it
is now under the New Testament.”67 Samuel Bolton in particular, and Tho-
mas Goodwin, would follow this basic trajectory.
Bolton uses almost the exact language of Cameron by arguing that the
subservient covenant was given to Israel to “prepare them to faith, and to
inflame them with the desire of the Promise.”68 In highlighting the similari-
ties and differences the subservient covenant shares with the covenants of
works and grace, a methodological point found in Cameron’s work, Bolton
insists that the foedus subserviens “doth not stand in opposition to Grace,
neither is inconsistent with the covenant of Grace […] yet it hath its subser-
vient ends to the Covenant of Grace.”69 In particular, the old covenant had
in view the land of Canaan and “God’s blessing there, in obedience to it,
and not to heaven.”70 The relationship between law and gospel also comes
into Bolton’s purview. He discusses the principle of “do this and live” (Lev.
18:5), and notes the varying interpretations given to this much-vexed pas-
sage of Scripture. For his own part, he notes that “in the externall view of
them […] the Law and Gospel doe seeme to stand upon opposite terms,”
but only if “we looke upon the Law separately [i.e., strictly].”71 When the
law and the gospel are separated by distinguishing the foedus subserviens
from the covenant of grace the Israelites “should have been driven to Christ
by it, but they expected life in obedience to it. And this was their great
errour […] seeking life by their own righteousnesse.”72 Instead, they should
have recognized their inability to attain justification by the works of the law
and so put their faith in Christ for their justification. Only then could the
law, in its substance, function as a “Rule of obedience to the people of God,
and that to which they are to conforme their walking under the Gospel.”73
Thomas Goodwin makes this same point in his short argument for a
subservient covenant. He notes that Joshua, when the covenant was re-
newed, told the Israelites of their inability to keep the covenant (Josh.
—————
65
De triplici Dei cum homine foedere theses, XLVI (The true bounds of Christian freedome,
383).
66
De triplici Dei cum homine foedere theses, LII (The true bounds of Christian freedome,
387).
67
De triplici Dei cum homine foedere theses, LIII (The true bounds of Christian freedome,
387).
68
The true bounds of Christian freedome, 138. Cf. De triplici Dei cum homine foedere theses,
LVI.
69
The true bounds of Christian freedome, 145.
70
The true bounds of Christian freedome, 145.
71
The true bounds of Christian freedome, 156–57.
72
The true bounds of Christian freedome, 160–61.
73
The true bounds of Christian freedome, 162.
—————
74
The work of the Holy Ghost in our salvation in Works, 6:354.
75
The work of the Holy Ghost in our salvation in Works, 6:354.
76
Thus, Goodwin argues that God “had not made such an outward covenant with that nation
as a church in such promises, such as justification, adoption, sanctification, outward and carnal,
had not he therein had a farther scope in types, hereby to note out another covenant, church,
promises, justification, sanctification, true and real, whereof he made this the shadow; and this he
did for Christ’s sake also, whom and whose covenant these things typified out” The work of the
Holy Ghost in our salvation in Works, 6:355–56.
77
Mysterium & medulla, 748–53.
78
Mysterium & medulla, 753.
79
Mysterium & medulla, 753.
80
Mysterium & medulla, 753.
81
See Heinrich Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics: Set Out and Illustrated from the Sources (Grand
Rapids: Baker Book House, 1978), 395–404; Mark Beach, Christ and the Covenant, 301–16.
—————
82
Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy; Protestant Scholasticism and Humanism in Seven-
teenth-Century France (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1969), 144. Incidentally, Arm-
stong’s view that places Amyraut’s view outside of orthodoxy ends up “excommunicating” a
number of theologians (e.g., Goodwin) who were clearly within the “orthodox” camp.
83
Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy, 144.
84
See Vindiciae legis, 228–53.
85
Vindiciae legis, 250. Herman Witsius likewise comments: “It is known to all who are ac-
quainted with theology, that the law is sometimes used in such an extensive signification, that it
contains the whole system of the doctrine of salvation, the better part of which is the gospel: Isa ii
3. xlii. 4. and that also the gospel is sometimes signifies all that doctrine which Christ and the
Apostles delivered, in which are comprehended both commandments, and prohibitions, and
upbraidings, and threatenings, Mark xvi. 15. compared with Matth. xxviii. 20. Rom ii.16.” Con-
ciliatory or Irenical Animadversions on the Controversies Agitated in Britain: Under the Unhappy
Names of Antinomians and Neonomians (Glasgow, 1807), 180–81.
86
Vindiciae legis, 252. Samuel Rutherford holds to a view of the law and the gospel that helps
explain why he viewed Sinai as an administration of the covenant of grace. Positively, the law and
the gospel are not contrary to one another: “Perfect obedience, which the Law requireth, and
imperfect obedience which the Gospel accepteth are but graduall differences.” Furthermore, “the
Gospel abateth nothing of the height of perfection, in commanding what ever the law commandeth
in the same perfection […]. In acceptation of grace, the Gospel accepteth lesse than the law, but
—————
97
Exposition of Hebrews, 23:76.
98
Exposition of Hebrews, 23:77.
8.6 Conclusion
The evidence clearly shows that Reformed theologians in Britain during the
seventeenth century did not agree on how to relate the old covenant to the
covenant of grace. Was this debate more formal than real, especially when
certain distinctions are made? However tempting it may be to deny any
substantial differences between the two sides, the debate centers on a major
aspect of theological hermeneutics. In his impressive study on the seven-
teenth-century Antinomian controversy, David Como makes an interesting
point about the debates on ecclesiology, namely, that they “masked a more
fundamental intellectual and emotional bifurcation within puritanism, a split
over that most basic of Christian antinomies, the relationship between Law
and Gospel.”99 Como’s understanding of how various Puritans understood
the “law” and the “gospel” leaves much to be desired, however. His view of
the Puritan law-gospel distinction amounts to a contrast between the subjec-
tive (law) versus the objective (gospel), with the Congregationalists empha-
sizing the former and the Presbyterians favoring the latter. This view cannot
stand up to the evidence in the writings of both the Presbyterians and Con-
gregationalists whose law-gospel dichotomy defies such a neat categoriza-
tion.
Nonetheless, when the law and the gospel are understood as redemptive-
historical contrasts between the old covenant (law) and the new covenant
(gospel) we are getting closer to understanding the debate regarding Sinai.
Most Reformed theologians, often the Presbyterians, generally emphasized
the similarities between the old and new covenants; but some significant
Puritan thinkers, often the Congregationalists, were quick to point out their
differences. For the likes of Owen and Goodwin, the new covenant ushered
in a massive redemptive-historical shift in the history of God’s dealings
with his people, and hence a stronger law-gospel (Old Testament versus
New Testament) contrast. Further research may show that soteriology is not
in fact the only issue at hand in this debate, but also ecclesiology, particu-
larly the nature of worship in the new covenant as opposed to the old. To
that end, the law-gospel contrast should not be understood primarily in
—————
99
Blown by the Spirit: Puritanism and the Emergence of an Antinomian Underground in Pre-
Civil-War England (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2004), 451.
Carl R. Trueman
9.1 Introduction
When John Owen wrote his Dissertation on Divine Justice in 1652, he was
not only attacking a view of Christ’s atonement that was held by those
whom he would ordinarily have regarded as his allies, he was also in effect
publishing a retraction of his own earlier position.1 The question he ad-
dressed was one of fundamental importance to the Christian faith: Given the
existence of sin, was God’s vindicatory justice absolutely necessary, or
could he pardon sin by a mere act of his will? The answer to this question
had important repercussions for doctrines both of salvation and of Christ: If
God wished to forgive sinners, was the death of Christ necessary on the
basis of God’s essential justice or simply of his voluntary decree? In other
words, given God’s decision to save sinners, was atonement something
demanded by the very being of God or simply by a free act of his will?
While the young Owen, along with many of his Reformed colleagues, had
originally held to the latter position, by 1652 he had come to the conclusion
that any understanding of atonement that did not insist on the absolute ne-
cessity of Christ’s death, opened the door to views of salvation that were
inimical to the Gospel. Indeed, at one point in the treatise, he makes a direct
connection between denial of the absolute necessity of atonement and the
birth of Socinianism:
—————
1
For Owen’s writings, see The Works of John Owen, ed. W.H. Goold, 24 vol. (Edinburgh,
1850–55), hereafter cited as Works. The only modern biography is P. Toon, God’s Statesman: The
Life and Work of John Owen (Exeter, 1971). For studies of his theology, see Joel R. Beeke, Assur-
ance of Faith: Calvin, English Puritanism, and the Dutch Second Reformation (New York, 1991);
P. DeVries, Die mij hefft liefgehad: de betekenis van de gemeenschap met Christus in de theologie
van John Owen (1616–1683) (Heerenveen, 1999); Sinclair B. Ferguson, John Owen on the Chris-
tian Life (Edinburgh, 1987); R.C. Gleason, John Calvin and John Owen on Mortification: A
Comparative Study in Reformed Spirituality (New York, 1995); Kelly M. Kapic, Communion with
God: The Divine and the Human in the Theology of John Owen (Grand Rapids, 2007); Robert W.
Oliver (ed.), John Owen: the Man and His Theology (Phillipsburg, 2002); Sebastian Rehnman,
Divine Discourse: the theological methodology of John Owen (Grand Rapids, 2002); Alan Spence,
Incarnation and Inspiration: John Owen and the Coherence of Christology (Edinburgh, 2007);
Carl R. Trueman, The Claims of Truth: John Owen’s Trinitarian Theology (Carlisle, 1997); idem,
John Owen: Reformed Catholic, Renaissance Man (Aldershot, 2008).
—————
2
Works, 10:594.The classic Socinian statement of Christology is Faustus Socinus’s 1578 trea-
tise, De Jesu Christo Servatore. This work was a sustained attack on the doctrine of satisfaction
and does contain some indications that emphasis on God’s absolute power, an element held in
common with men such as Twisse and Rutherford, was a contributing factor in this rejection of the
orthodox position: see A.W. Gomes, “De Jesu Christo Servatore. Faustus Socinus on the Satisfac-
tion of Christ,” WFJ 55 (1993): 209–31. For a good general discussion of Reformed and Socinian
Christology, see R.S. Franks, A History of the Doctrine of the Work of Christ, vol. 2 (London,
n.d.). Owen’s views, including his change of mind, are discussed on pp. 135–50.
3
Twisse’s views on this subject are expressed in Vindiciae Gratiae Potestatis ac Providentiae
Divinae (Amsterdam, 1632) 1.25, digr.8 (pp. 198–207), and Rutherford’s in his Disputatio Scho-
lastica de Divina Providentia (Edinburgh, 1649) and The Covenant of Life opened; or, a treatise
on the Covenant of Grace (Edinburgh, 1654). The emphasis of these men upon God’s absolute
power is a point of contact with Socinus’s De Jesu Christo Servatore, which Owen would no
doubt have regarded as pointing to voluntarist theological presuppositions that could not provide a
firm basis for avoiding the excesses of the Socinian position which made God’s justice merely an
act of his will, not part of his essential nature, and dismissed any notion of propitiatory atonement.
Thus, while the debate is primarily about the necessity of Christ’s atonement, the really important
issue is the presuppositional framework underlying this: in terms of the order of being, the doctrine
of God; in terms of the order of knowing, the relationship between God’s revelation and his
essence. For further discussion of Twisse’s arguments, particularly in relation to his use of medie-
val sources, see Trueman, The Claims of Truth, chapter 3.
assume.4 In doing this, Owen’s position will be contrasted with other Re-
formed theologians in an attempt to highlight the diversity of opinion on
this particular theological question. First, however, it is important to see
how Owen’s own view on the atonement underwent change. Only then can
the significance of his 1652 treatise be truly appreciated.5
In 1647, Owen published his most important work on the atonement, The
Death of Death in the Death of Christ. The treatise was an anti-Arminian
polemic, aimed at asserting that Christ’s death actually accomplished salva-
tion for the elect and did not simply make it possible. In book 2, chapter 2,
Owen addresses the question of the end purpose of Christ’s death, and it is
here that he deals with the teaching of “Arminius with his followers” that
Christ’s death was necessary because God wished to pardon sinners but
could not do so until the obstacle of sin had been removed by Christ’s
atonement.6 The first criticism Owen makes of this position is that it is built
on a flawed foundation: the notion that God could not have pardoned sin
without Christ’s atonement. In this context, he makes the following une-
quivocal statement:
The foundation of this whole assertion seems to me to be false and erroneous, namely
– that God could not have mercy on mankind unless satisfaction were made by his
—————
4
For example, see E. Bizer, Frühorthodoxie und Rationalismus (Zurich, 1963); B.G. Arm-
strong, Calvinism and the Amyraut Heresy: Protestant Scholasticism and Humanism in Seven-
teenth Century France (Madison, 1969). For an example of scholarship that draws on Armstrong
and that is directed specifically at Owen, see A.C. Clifford, Atonement and Justification: English
Evangelical Theology 1640–1790, an Evaluation (Oxford, 1990). Clifford’s work should be read
in conjunction with the critique of his views in Trueman, The Claims of Truth, passim. In recent
years, the approaches of Bizer, Armstrong et al. have come under increasing criticism: see, for
example, Richard A. Muller, “Calvin and the ‘Calvinists’: Assessing Continuities and Discontinui-
ties Between the Reformation and Orthodoxy,” Calvin Theological Journal 30 (1995): 345–75 and
31 (1996): 125–60. For a good synopsis of the history of scholarship on Reformed orthodoxy, and
a clear exposition of the significance of the approach developed by Muller et al., see W.J. van
Asselt, “Studie van de gereformeerde scholastiek: Verleden en toekomst,” Nederlands Theologisch
Tijdscrift 50 (1996): 290–312.
5
Previous scholars have noted the change in Owen’s thinking on divine justice and have seen
its implications as primarily Christological and soteriological. While they are substantially correct
in this, they have not attempted to probe deeper into Owen’s argument and thus not noticed the
wider implications of it for other aspects of his theology: see D. D. Wallace, Puritans and Predes-
tination: Grace in English Protestant Theology 1525–1695 (North Carolina, 1982), 152–53; H.
Boersma, A Hot Pepper Corn: Richard Baxter’s Doctrine of Justification in Its Seventeenth-
Century Context of Controversy (Zoetermeer, 1993), 130–31; R.K.M. Wright. “John Owen’s Great
High Priest: The High Priesthood of Christ in the Theology of John Owen (1616–1683)” (PhD
dissertation, University of Denver, 1989), 142–44.
6
Works, 10:205–8.
—————
7
Works, 10:205.
8
The distinction between God’s absolute power (the set of all possibles that he could enact)
and his ordained power (the subset of those possibles that he had decided to enact) had a long
medieval pedigree and became in later medieval theology a means for safeguarding God’s tran-
scendence and unknowability while maintaining the fundamental reliability of the created order. It
had a somewhat mixed reception among Protestants, with some, such as Calvin, explicitly reject-
ing it while, arguably, implicitly assuming much of its content, On the medieval use of the distinc-
tion, see H.A. Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology: Gabriel Biel and Late Medieval
Nominalism (Durham, 1983); F. Oakley, Omnipotence, Covenant, and Order: An Excursion in the
History of Ideas from Abelard to Leibniz (Ithaca, 1984); Eef Dekker, “Duns Scotus over absolute
en geordineerde macht,” in AiltueeI Filosoferen, ed. W. van Dooren and T. Hoff (Delft, 1993). On
Calvin’s attitude to the concept, see David C. Steinmetz, “Calvin and the Absolute Power of God,”
in his Calvin in Context (Oxford, 1995), 40–52, where he argues that Calvin rejects the terminol-
ogy while actually employing its content.
9
Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae 3a.46.14.
God could have redeemed us by a word or a wish, save that another way seemed to
him best for our sakes: that by not sparing His own and only begotten Son, he might
testify in His person how much he cares for our salvation. And those hearts must be
harder than iron or stone which are not softened by the incomparable sweetness of the
divine love.10
Here, it is clear that Calvin grounds the necessity of Christ’s death in an
act of God’s will, not in his vindicatory justice. This view was not found to
be at all unacceptable amongst the Reformed orthodox in seventeenth–
century Britain, and the Westminster Confession, not surprisingly, makes
no explicit ruling on this issue. As noted above, it is found in the writings of
such impeccably Orthodox figures as Twisse and Rutherford and is thus
scarcely a peculiar or innovative position for a Reformed theologian to
hold.11
Before moving to a discussion of Owen’s later position, it is worth not-
ing one more aspect of his objection to the Arminian position that will have
significance for the 1652 treatise: his attitude toward Scripture. Owen is
quite confident that there is no direct scriptural affirmation of the absolute
necessity of atonement and that no such inference can legitimately be
drawn. In view of the fact that he is later to deploy scriptural texts and in-
ferences to establish just such a case, it is obvious that the alteration in his
understanding of atonement requires an alteration in his understanding of
the general relationship that exists between God’s essence and his revela-
tion. While the full significance of this change can only be understood from
the perspective of the later treatise, it would appear that in 1647 Owen is
operating with the implicit assumption that God’s revelation, in whatever
form, is of his decretive will and not necessarily of his essential being. It is
thus not legitimate to use this revelation to make inferences about what is
and is not necessary for God in terms of his absolute power.
—————
10
John Calvin, The Gospel According to St John 11–21, ed. T. F. and D. W. Torrance (Edin-
burgh, 1961), 100; cf. John Calvin, Institutes (Philadelphia, 1961), 2.xii.1 and xvii.1.
11
Patrick Gillespie, in The Ark of the Covenant Opened; or, a Treatise of the Covenant of Re-
demption (London, 1677), 35–39, offers a brief account of the range of Reformed opinion on the
matter, rejecting both extremes and arguing that vindicatory justice is both essential to God but
that atonement is still a free act of God’s will, and that God could have acted in another way. The
marginalia to his argument indicate his dependence upon Rutherford, Covenant of Life Opened,
and Anthony Burgess, The True Doctrine of Justification Asserted and Vindicated (London, 1648).
It is interesting that John Owen wrote the foreword to this posthumously published treatise, indi-
cating that he did not regard his difference with Gillespie on this point as fundamental. Indeed, the
position Owen came to reject was that also held by his friend and Independent colleague, Thomas
Goodwin: see Thomas Goodwin, Works, 12 vol. (Edinburgh, 1861–66), 5:72. Both Gillespie and
Goodwin find a rationale for the necessity of atonement in its consequential benefits, particularly
in terms of what it reveals about God. Thus, they stand close to the kind of rationale offered by
Thomas Aquinas, where the atonement was not strictly necessary but had obvious advantages to
commend it as a way of divine action, and not the more radical position of Scotus where no
rationale was offered other than the mere will of God.
—————
12
Works, 10:487. The opponents Owen mentions by name include his beloved Augustine,
Calvin, Musculus, Twisse, and Vossius. He also lists his allies on this issue: Paraeus, Piscator,
Molinaeus, Lubbertus, Rivetus, Cameron, Maccovius, Junius, and the professors at Saumur: see
Works, 10:488–89. The inclusion of such as Cameron and the school of Saumur is interesting as it
is the tendency of modem scholarship (e.g., the works of Armstrong and Clifford) to portray
Reformed scholasticism, as epitomized by Owen, as antithetical to Saumurian Amyraldianism,
especially on the atonement. Owen’s comment here clearly points to the fact that the relationship
between himself and Amyraldianism is more subtle than previous scholarship has supposed, a
view that is confirmed by the persuasive arguments of Rehnman for Cameron as the source of
Owen’s structuring of the historical covenants in Theologoumena Pantodapa: see Divine Dis-
course, 164–65.
—————
13
For further discussion of Owen’s doctrine of God, see Trueman, The Claims of Truth, chap-
ters 2 and 3.
14
Works, 10:498
15
See Works, 10:499–500. Cf. his comment on p. 503: “Justice presides as it were, in all the
divine decrees, actions, works, and words, of whatsoever kind they be. There is no egress of the
divine will, no work or exercise of providence, though immediately and distinctly breathing
clemency, mercy, anger, truth, or wisdom, but in respect there of God is eminently said to be just,
and to execute justice.”
of the implications that Owen’s view holds for God’s freedom. Indeed,
God’s freedom is one of the central issues in the debate, as no orthodox
divine would have denied the fact of Christ’s atonement, or its necessity in
light of the decree; however, Owen’s insistence on its absolute necessity in
the light of God’s decision to save could well be construed as a denial of
God’s freedom to act in any other way, and thus of his omnipotence.
Owen’s defense of God’s liberty against the background of such views is
twofold. First, it is clear from his argument that God’s vindicatory justice is
not absolutely necessary in the strictest sense, but, as its relational nature
shows, it is contingent on the existence of rational, sinful creatures and,
thus, on the creation. Creation, as an uncoerced, entirely voluntary act of
God’s will, is not necessitated by his own being but is an act of free choice;
thus, no act involving the creation is, in an absolute sense, necessary.21 Sec-
ond, Owen denies that God’s freedom requires that he be able to choose
whether to punish sin or not, but simply that such punishment must be per-
formed with a concomitant liberty, i.e., in a way that is entirely consistent
with his own nature.22 In asserting this, Owen argues for an intellectualist
view of God in language with which any scholastic Thomist, or indeed
Arminius himself, would have agreed:
[T]hat God punishes sins with a concomitant liberty, because he is of all agents the
most free, we have not a doubt. Thus, his intellectual will is carried towards happi-
ness by an essential inclination antecedent to liberty, and not withstanding it wills
happiness with a concomitant liberty: for to act freely is the very nature of the will;
yea, it must necessarily act freely.23
Therefore, God’s freedom is not his ability to choose between alternative
courses of action but his ability to will happiness without hindrance. Thus,
—————
21
Works, 10:509, 511. Gillespie seems not to understand this point, arguing that those who
hold to the necessity of atonement based upon the essential nature of divine justice are using logic
which would demand that, because it is part of human nature to be able to speak, therefore all
human beings must actually speak. The analogy is poor: all Owen is arguing is that, once the
decision to save sinners is made, then God must act in accordance with his nature; by analogy,
once a human being makes the decision to speak, he must speak in accordance with his nature. See
Gillespie, Ark of the Covenant, 37–38.
22
Works, 10:509–10.
23
Works, 10:510. Cf. Arminius comment to Perkins: “Velim autem, mi Perkinse, ut libertatem
voluntati Dei nullam tribuas, quae in ipsius justitiam impingat. Iustitia enim voluntate prior est et
istius regula, voluntati libertas ut modus eius attribuitur. Quare etiam modus iste ajustitia
circumscribitur. Neque tamen propterea negabitur Deum esse volens liberrimum. Quum enim
volens liberrimum sit, non quod omnia vult, sed quod quaecunque vult, libere vult, quid officit
libertati Dei, si dicatur quaedam non velle, quia per justitiam suam illa velle non possit, quum illa
libertas non a superiore extra Deum, sed ab ipsa justitia Dei circumscribitur?” Opera Theologica
(Leiden, 1629), 68. Arminius’s Aristotelianism, and his use of Thomistic and Suarezian patterns of
thought is well-documented in Richard A. Muller, God, Creation, and Providence in the Thought,
of Jacob Arminius (Grand Rapids, 1991); also Eef Dekker, Rijlrer dan Midas: Vrijheid, genade en
predestinatie in de theologie van Jacobus Arminius, 1559–1600 (Zoetermeer, 1993).
In presenting the evidence for his position, Owen distinguishes between that
which proves God’s essential justice and that which proves that the out-
working of this justice is necessary. The former falls into four major catego-
ries: the word of God; the rational conscience; works of providence; and
Christology, The latter is also divided into four: the nature of God’s hatred
of sin; the scriptural description of God in respect of sin; the nature of
God’s glory; and the necessity of Christ’s death.
Bearing in mind that Owen had stated just five years earlier that no pas-
sage of Scripture could be adduced in support of the position for which he
is here arguing, it is surprising how much scriptural evidence he now feels
able to bring forward. This evidence he divides into three categories: those
verses that oppose God’s holiness to sin; those that depict God as judge;
and those that refer to the punishment of sin. The passages that he chooses
make it clear that the reason for God’s vindicatory justice is not simply his
will but the attributes of his very being. For example, in the first category
he starts by commenting on Habakkuk 1:13, “Thou art of purer eyes than to
behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity,” upon which he makes the fol-
lowing observation:
—————
24
Francis Turretin clarifies the issue of God’s freedom by arguing that God has freedom of
indifference in primo actu, i.e., in his decision of whether to create or not to create, but subse-
quently, in secundo actu, no freedom of indifference but only freedom of spontaneity, i.e., freedom
from external coaction: see Institutio Theologiae Elencticae (Geneva, 1688), 1.3.14.3 and
1.10.304–5.
The prophet here ascribes to God the greatest detestation, and such an immortal
hatred of sin that he cannot look upon it, but, with a wrathful aversion of his counte-
nance, abominates and dooms it to punishment. But perhaps God thus hates sin be-
cause he wills to do so, and by an act of his will entirely free, though the state of
things might be changed without any injury to him or diminution of his essential
glory. But the Holy Spirit gives us a reason very different from this, namely, the
purity of God’s eyes: “Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil.” But there is no one
who can doubt that the prophet here intended the holiness of God. The incomprehen-
sible, infinite, and most perfect holiness or purity of God is the cause why he hates
and detests all sin; and that justice and holiness are the same, as to the common and
general notion of them, we have shown before.25
As is clear from the last sentence, Owen is here expounding this text in
line with his understanding of God’s justice as the outworking of his inner
perfection in its relationship to sinful creatures. The other texts he lists are
all dealt with in a similar fashion.26 The second and third categories, dealing
with God as judge and sin as punished are also expounded as reflecting
God’s essential being.27 In doing so, Owen reveals that his change in under-
standing of God’s justice is paralleled by a change in his understanding of
the nature of revelation. Five years earlier he himself would no doubt have
referred all of these verses to God’s decretive will; here he asserts that they
refer to God’s essential being. Clearly, there is now a much closer correla-
tion of God’s being and God’s revelation in Scripture than was the case in
1647.
Owen’s argument from the testimony of conscience is based in part on
biblical considerations and in part on reason and empirical evidence from
the world around. These two strands, reason and revelation, he sees as
bound together in a syllogism: “What common opinion and the innate con-
ceptions of all assign to God, that is natural to God; but this corrective
justice is so assigned to God: therefore, this justice is natural to God.”28
Owen regards the middle term of the syllogism as taught by Romans 1:32.
Thus, in terms of the seventeenth–century Reformed understanding, the
syllogism possesses biblical legitimacy because, although his crucial as-
sumption in the major premise (that common consent refers to what is natu-
ral, i.e., essential to God) is a supposition based on reason rather than faith,
the middle term is, in this particular instance of the argument, a truth of
—————
25
Works, 10:513.
26
The other texts with which he deals are, in order: Josh 24:19; Exod 34:5–7 and 23:7; and Ps
5:4–6.
27
Under the second category, he deals with Gen 18:25, Rom 3:5–6, Acts 17:31, Rom 2:5, Rev
16:5–6, Ps 9:4–5, and Ps 119:137. Under the third category, he expounds Rom 1:32, 2 Thess 1:6,
Heb 2:2, and Jude 7.
28
Works, 10:517.
—————
29
On the use of syllogisms in Reformed Orthodox theology, see Richard A. Muller Post-
Reformation Reformed. Dogmatics, 4 vol. (Grand Rapids, 2003), I, 403.
30
See Works, 10:541. This is one of the most interesting and unusual parts of the whole trea-
tise. In order for this evidence to be of use, Owen has to argue that the universal existence of this
tendency is the result of an innate principle implanted by God and not through contact with the
Jews, as Rutherford asserted. This is a fascinating example of how primitive social anthropology
was utilized by theologians in doctrinal controversy: See Works, 10:525–41. Of course, the prob-
lem with Owen’s argument from universal consent is that the very controversy in which he is
engaged effectively precludes its use in establishing his case. If God’s vindicatory justice was
universally acknowledged, then the controversy would never have arisen. That Socinus and others
did deny it points to the inadequacy of this argument from natural theology, even with the biblical
warrant of Rom 1:32, to deal with this issue in a decisive manner. Nevertheless, Owen seems to
have been blissfully unaware of this difficulty.
31
See Works, 10:546
32
I use the term “christocentric” here simply on the grounds that it has been so beloved of
Barthian critics of Reformed Orthodoxy. In itself, it is virtually worthless: Socinian theology, with
its focus on a creature Christ as moral example, is arguably “christocentric,” even without any
concept of incarnation. I suspect those who criticize Reformed Orthodoxy for not being christo-
centric are indicating merely that Reformed Orthodoxy disagrees with their own distinctive Chris-
tological constructions.
[T]here are some attributes of his nature the knowledge of which could not reach the
ears of sinners but by Christ, such as his love to his peculiar people, his sparing
mercy, his free and saving grace, even the others, which he hath made known to us in
some measure by the ways and means above mentioned, we could have no clear or
saving knowledge of unless in and through this same Christ.33
One of these attributes that is revealed in nature but more perfectly so in
Christ is that of vindicatory justice. In setting forth Christ as a propitiation
for sin, God demonstrated to humanity that sin required punishment. In one
of the most powerful and hard to refute statements in the treatise, Owen
asks: “what kind of love can that be which God hath shown, in doing what
there was no occasion for him to do?”34 It is only in the light of the atone-
ment’s absolute necessity, he contends, that Christ’s death can truly reveal
both God’s justice and his mercy. In dealing with the necessity of the out-
working of God’s justice, Owen’s arguments add little to what he has al-
ready said. It is, however, interesting to summarize briefly the points he
makes in this context. First, he addresses the nature of God’s hatred of sin:
“He who cannot but hate all sin cannot but punish sin, for to hate sin is, as
to the affection, to will to punish it, and as to the effect, the punishment
itself. And to be unable not to will the punishment of sin is the same with
the necessity of punishing it.”35 Thus, God’s hatred of sin must manifest
itself in an act of God’s will to punish sin because not to do so would in-
volve a contradiction in God’s being, implying that his intellect hated sin
but that his will acted in a manner contrary to this. Such a position would be
a denial of Owen’s intellectualist doctrine of God where the intellect appre-
hends the good and directs the will toward it. In advancing this argument,
Owen is attempting to force his opponents into the embarrassing position of
having to deny that God has any essential hatred for sin.
The second type of evidence, that from Scripture, focuses on the de-
scription of God as “a consuming fire.” Drawing on the analogy of fire,
Owen points out that fire necessarily burns all that it comes into contact
with; thus, if God comes into contact with what is sinful, he too must neces-
sarily consume it. Again, a close connection between God’s essence and his
revelation is assumed, with the language of the Bible, while not precisely
realist, being all the same very closely analogous to divine realities.36
The last two pieces of evidence are, in effect, reiterations of earlier
statements: God’s position as a just ruler demands that he punish sin, as
failure to do so would be a contradiction of his position, of his holiness, and
—————
33
Works, 10:547. This passage is unequivocal evidence that Reformed orthodoxy’s so-called
Biblicist emphasis on the written word of Scripture did not necessarily undermine a Christ-centred
understanding of revelation.
34
Works, 10:548.
35
Works, 10:550.
36
Works, 10:553–54
Scriptures sometimes teach the first; as, for instance, that God is the living God,
because he giveth life to all, that he is good, because he doeth good. Why may we not
also say that he is just, endowed with that justice of which we are treating, because
“God perverteth not judgment, neither doth the Almighty pervert justice,” but “the
LORD is righteous, and upright are his judgments”? A constant, then, and uniform
course of just operation in punishing sin proves punitory justice to be essentially
inherent in God. 39
The presuppositions behind this passage are obvious and undergird the
crucial connection between God, being and his revelation, which Owen
needs as a basis for his argument. In the order of being, God’s first acts, his
attributes, determine the character of his second acts, his effects; thus, in the
order of knowing, God’s second acts give real insights into his essence. The
interesting thing is that Owen sees the Bible itself as teaching the validity of
inferences from effect back to cause. As far as he is concerned, this is no
purely rationalist theory of analogy based on the metaphysics of being but a
method of doing theology that possesses clear biblical sanction. His implicit
adoption of Aristotelian concepts are not here an example of any tendency
to exalt human logic over against the Bible but, on the contrary, of his de-
sire to be faithful to the Bible. Nevertheless, he does remain vulnerable to
the criticism that his belief that there is such a necessary connection be-
tween God’s being and his effects, and that this is indeed a valid way of
understanding the Bible’s relationship to God, is an assumption; and that
nowhere in the treatise does he feel obliged to justify this.
A second element in his use of Thomist patterns of thought is his reli-
ance on analogical predication. Right at the very start of the work, Owen
defines how words can be predicated of God. Discussing how definitions of
justice are used by non-Christian philosophers in discussions about civil
administration and government, he points out how such concepts are to be
understood of God: “[I]n ascribing the perfection of excellencies to him
[God], we exclude the ratio of habit or quality, properly so called, and every
material and imperfect mode of operation.”40 Thus, when speaking of God,
it is quite legitimate to apply to him human concepts of perfection, provid-
ing that we understand such predication is analogical and that these perfec-
tions, as they exist in God, have none of our creaturely limitations and
imperfections. Thus, the works of secular thinkers on perfection and virtue
in the realm of creation can become useful for gaining insights into the
nature of God. This is a somewhat broader application of philosophical
concepts to theology than that based on analogical reasoning from biblical
texts and does appear to open the way for a more purely philosophical ap-
proach to God based on the analogy of finite being in general to the infinite
—————
39
Works, 10:558–59.
40
Works, 10:558–59
—————
41
At one point when he is using analogical reasoning, Owen does explicitly acknowledge the
influence of Aquinas. This is in the context of a discussion concerning how tile idea of anger can
be applied to God. Owen cites with approval Aquinas’s view as expressed in Summa Theologiae
1a2ae 47.1: See Works, 10:544. Regarding the scholastic framework employed by those orthodox
divines maintaining the opposite position on the atonement’s necessity to that of Owen, it is
interesting, though perhaps hardly surprising, that William Twisse’s use of Aristotle is shaped by
Scotistic, rather than Thomistic concerns: See S. Hutton, “Thomas Jackson, Oxford Platonist, and
William Twisse, Aristotelian,” Journal of the History of Ideas 39 (1978), 635–52, esp. 649ft:
42
Works, 10:588.
43
See Works, 10:510. Cf. Aquinas, Summa Theologiae 1a.21.1.
44
“[God is] necessary in respect of all his actions internally, or in respect of the persons in the
Godhead toward one another. The Father necessarily begets the Son, and loves himself. As to
implication, therefore, he also wills his own happiness. The logical priority
of intellect to will imposes ontological limits on God’s external acts. Good-
ness and happiness are not arbitrarily dependent on God’s will but rooted in
his own unchanging being. It is this intellectualist view of God that both
ensures the objective reliability of natural theology and precludes any no-
tion of sin’s going unpunished. In a passionate passage close to the end of
the treatise, Owen makes it quite clear that sin can only be properly under-
stood in its relationship to God:
Sin opposes the divine nature and existence; it is enmity against God, and is not an
idle enemy; it has even engaged in a mortal war with the attributes of God. He would
not be God if he did not avenge, by the punishment of the guilty, his own injury. He
hath often and heavily complained in his word, that by sin he is robbed of his glory
and honor, affronted, exposed to calumny and blasphemy; that neither his holiness,
nor his justice, nor name, nor right, nor dominion, is preserved pure and untainted: for
he hath created all things for his own glory, and it belongs to the natural right of God
to preserve that glory entire by the subjection of all his creatures, in their proper
stations, to himself.45
Sin must, therefore, be understood from a theocentric, rather than an-
thropocentric, perspective, and its punishment must be seen as part of God’s
overall purposes. As God’s primary act is to will his own happiness, his
own glory, then all secondary, external acts must conform to this. Sin is, by
definition, the contradiction of God, a denial of God’s own willing of his
own essential glory. As such, God cannot be indifferent to it. The punish-
ment of sin is demanded by the fact that he wills the good, which requires
him to act in such a way that his purposes are not frustrated.46 As sin repre-
sents the creature’s attempts to be free of God, so punishment of sin be-
comes the only way in which God is able to reassert his authority and so to
maintain the proper order of being that, creation being presupposed, is a
necessary part of God’s glory and happiness. As with his use of analogy,
Owen’s intellectualist doctrine of God shows clear affinities with Thomistic
theology. This, of course, raises the question of the sources of his thinking.
The Dissertation is explicitly dependent on scholastic writers at a number
of points, particularly in the early chapters.47 This is hardly surprising, as
—————
these and such like actions, he is of all necessary agents tile most necessary.” Works, 10:510. Cf.
Aquinas, Summa Theologiae 1a.21.1.
45
Works,10:619
46
“[T]he infliction of punishment belongs not to God as injured [...] but as he is the ruler of
all and the judge of sinners, to whom it belongs to preserve the good of the whole, and the depend-
ence of his creatures on himself.” Works, 10:567.
47
E.g., Works, 10:497 [Aristotle], 501 [Lombard, Aquinas, Cajetan, Biel, and others], 505
[Aquinas, Cajetan]. On p. 502, Owen explicitly agrees with Suarez on the formal inherence of
Punitive justice in God, but, without being specific, does distance himself from his method: “His
conclusions here 1do not oppose, though 1 cannot approve of many of his reasonings and argu-
ments.”
9.6 Conclusion
It has become the vogue for scholars of Reformed thought to see a funda-
mental antithesis between Christ-centered theology and the presuppositions
and methods of a Reformed Orthodoxy that employs scholastic method and
borrows language and argumentation from medieval theology and from
traditions of Aristotelianism. In the main, this is no doubt the result of an
uncritical and unhistorical acceptance of Barth’s belligerent Nein! to natural
theology, even by those scholars who do not adopt his positive theological
constructions.
While the whole notion of judging Reformed scholasticism by the crite-
ria of twentieth-century theology of any variety, be it neo-orthodoxy or
conservative Calvinism, is highly dubious, historical analysis of the relevant
documents demonstrates that many of neo-orthodoxy’s dearest histori-
ographical shibboleths are unsustainable in the light of the evidence.
Owen’s treatment of divine justice is a case in point. Here is a theologian
guilty of all the worst sins: positive use of Aristotelian categories; a disposi-
tion toward scholastic distinctions and methods of argumentation; and,
worst of all, a dependence on the analogy of being, that mark of Barth’s
antichrist. According to the received wisdom, the result should be a theol-
ogy that undermines the Christological focus of Christianity and replaces it
with a human-centered caricature. However, the end result is actually a
—————
48
Further parallels between the arguments of Owen and Arminius on divine justice can be
found by comparing Owen’s arguments in his Dissertation about the priority of the divine intellect
with those in Arminius’ Diputatio Privata 21, Opera Theologica; 360–62.
theology that, on this issue at least, is arguably not less Christocentric than
those of Owen’s opponents, including Calvin himself, but actually more so.
Further, it is also worth noting that commitment to scholastic method
and the use of broad Aristotelian categories does not mean that Owen and
his contemporaries were agreed in all the details, and even in some of the
major doctrinal conclusions. In fact, Owen’s critique of Twisse and Ruther-
ford is a reminder of the diversity of theological opinion, even on relatively
important matters, which could exist within both the scholastic tradition and
the confessional boundaries of Reformed theology.
In asserting the necessity of Christ’s sacrifice, Owen is presenting a Re-
formed theology that cannot displace the historical person of the mediator
from the center of the drama of redemption. There can be no eternal justifi-
cation based purely on the decree. Salvation is as surely linked to history as
it is to eternity. It is those who predicate the necessity of incarnation and
atonement solely on the decretive will of God who run the risk of marginal-
izing the historical person of Christ and undermining the importance of
salvation history. In this context, Owen’s scholasticism serves not to eclipse
Christ but to place him at the center. Indeed, as is clear from his argument,
if it was not for his Thomist understanding of the epistemological implica-
tions of God’s causal relationship to creation and his acceptance of the
validity of the analogy of being, Owen would have no way of attacking his
opponents’ position. While it is true that his use of such arguments depends
on assumptions that he does not justify, it is also true that any rejection of
their validity renders his Christocentrism epistemologically unsustainable.
In the context of this dispute, at least, it is the rejection or radical delimita-
tion of natural theology, not its acceptance, that is the enemy of Christ–
centered theology,
This is not to say that Owen’s position is correct or in any way superior
to those of his opponents; it is merely to point out that in the seventeenth
century, use of scholastic argumentation, and even of the analogy of being,
did not necessarily disrupt the Christological focus of Reformed theology
but could in fact be used to strengthen it. Just as scholasticism should be
regarded as a method rather than a result, so Owen’s use of Aristotelian
language and concepts, and of a Thomist natural theology should not be
prejudged by anachronistic criteria but seen as a means to an end rather than
as an end in itself.
Robert J. McKelvey
10.1 Introduction
Martin Luther may never have called justification the “article by which the
church stands or falls” (articulus stantis aut cadentis Ecclesiae), yet the
concept certainly belonged to him. He labels the doctrine the “head and
cornerstone” (caput et angularis lapis) of the Church, and “without it the
church of God cannot exist for one hour” (sine eo Ecclesia Dei non potest
una hora subsistere).1 Regardless of its origination, in the seventeenth cen-
tury John Owen uses the “stands or falls” phrase when referring to justifica-
tion as “the main hinge” of the Reformation and “Articulus stantis aut ca-
dentis Ecclesiae,” the article by which the church stands or falls. “In my
judgment,” claims Owen, “Luther spake the truth when he said; amisso
Articulo Justificationis, simul amissa est tota Doctrina Christiana. The loss
of the article of Justification, involves the loss of the whole Christian doc-
trine.”2 The foundation for such sweeping statements exists in the Reforma-
tion emphasis upon divine grace in salvation to the exclusion of human
effort. Justification by faith alone emerged as a conscious departure from
—————
1
Martin Luther, D. Martin Luthers Werke, 120 vol. (Weimar: Hermann Böhlaus, 1883–2009),
30/3:650. Though the “stands or falls” wording is often attributed to Luther, a primary source has
never been cited. He could still be the originator of the phrase, as attribution to him comes as early
as the seventeenth century. For example, William Eyre (without a citation) refers to justification as
“articulus stantis aut cadentis Ecclesiae, as Luther calls it.” William Eyre, Vindiciae justificationis
gratuitae (London, 1654), 17. Thus, Richard John Neuhaus in “The Catholic Difference,” Evan-
gelicals and Catholics Together: Toward a Common Mission, ed. Charles Colson and Richard
John Neuhaus (Dallas: Word, 1995), 199, wrongly argues that the “stands or falls” phrase did not
originate until the eighteenth century.
2
John Owen, The Doctrine of Justification by Faith Through the Imputation of the Right-
eousness of Christ (London, 1677), 83, 87. As Carl R. Trueman observes, Owen does not provide
a citation of Luther for this quote “John Owen on Justification,” in Justified in Christ: God’s Plan
for Us in Justification, ed. K. Scott Oliphint (Fearn, Scotland: Mentor, 2007), 81. Owen may also
be calling attention to John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion 3.11.1, ed. John T. McNeil
and trans. Ford Lewis Battles, 2 vol. (Philadelphia, PA: Westminster Press, 1960), where he refers
to justification as “the main hinge on which religion turns.”
the medieval system of merit and the connected ideas of infused grace and
imparted righteousness.
While justification by faith alone received such high esteem among the
seventeenth-century English heirs of the Reformation, similar tribute never
came for the post-Reformation doctrine of eternal justification. The teach-
ing emerged to protect the free and sovereign grace of justification against
any perceived human contribution. In the end, anyone embracing justifica-
tion in foro Dei, in the court of God and before faith, was readily suspected
of embracing eternal justification. Rather than being praised as a defender
of forensic justification in the spirit of Luther, they were typically maligned
as antinomians in the spirit of Agricola.
“The Antinomians erroneously hold,” asserted Thomas Watson (1620–
1686), “[t]hat we are justified from Eternity. This Doctrine is a Key which
opens the Door to all Licentiousness; what sins do they care they commit,
so long as they hold they are ab Aeterno, justified whether they repent or
no.”3 The neonomian Richard Baxter (1615–1691) assigned to “justification
from eternity” such a foundational role that he called it, “that error and
pillar of Antinomianism.”4
This essay will explore the nature of this supposed “error and pillar of
Antinomianism” and the debate surrounding it in seventeenth-century Eng-
land. This will involve understanding both the convictions and misconcep-
tions about the doctrine emerging in polemical debate. Concerning the
controversy, we will examine its historical background, some highly visible
deliberation within it, and some of the individuals and theological issues
pertinent to it. The tendency towards broad generalizations within the de-
bate manifests itself. The labels of antinomianism and eternal justification
were given at times to being loosely defined and hastily applied. For exam-
ple, David Como observes that the term “antinomian” was “primarily a
hostile term of abuse, often used imprecisely, sloppily or maliciously for
polemical purposes.”5 Due to its attachment to antinomianism, the doctrine
of eternal justification also suffered such misapplication.
For a working seventeenth-century definition of eternal justification,
Francis Turretin (1623–1687) provides a helpful start in Institutio theolo-
giae elencticae (vol. 2, 1682), where he speaks of those who “maintain that
[justification] is an immanent act in God which was performed from eter-
nity.” This differs from those who either regard justification as “transient,
terminating in us and which takes place only in time and in this life,” or
those “who hold that it is postponed to the last and decretory day” at the
“public tribunal of Christ.” Turretin agreed that justification “was decreed
—————
3
Thomas Watson, A Body of Practical Divinity (London, 1692), 132.
4
Richard Baxter, Aphorismes of Justification (Hague, 1655), 112.
5
David Como, Blown by the Spirit: Puritanism and the Emergence of an Antinomian Under-
ground in Pre–Civil-War England (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2004), 33.
regard the eternal decree to justify as actual justification, which takes place
in time only upon the satisfaction paid by Christ at his death yet prior to
saving faith. For the sake of brevity and clarity, and without introducing a
novel theological concept, we will at times refer to this teaching simply as
“justification at satisfaction.”
—————
predominantly. An example of the synonymous use in a pronounced manner occurs in John
Brine’s early eighteenth-century Defence of the Doctrine of Eternal Justification (London, 1732),
where in the first two sentences, he speaks of objections to the “doctrine of Eternal Justification”
and his own attempts in the book to defend the “scriptural doctrine” of “Justification from Eter-
nity.”
9
See Peter Toon, Justification and Sanctification (Westchester, IL: Crossway Books, 1983),
45.
10
See Alister E. McGrath, Iustitia Dei: A History of the Christian Doctrine of Justification, 2
vol. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 1:17–23.
11
Carl Trueman, “Simul peccator et Justus: Martin Luther and Justification” in Justification
in Perspective: Historical Developments and Contemporary Challenges, ed. Bruce McCormack
(Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic Books, 2006), 73–97. See p.79 for a citation from Luther’s
Freedom of the Christian (1520) where imputation of sin to and righteousness from Christ
emerges clearly in the transfer occurring in the union between bride and bridegroom.
12
Trueman, “Simul peccator et Justus,” 81.
—————
13
Martin Luther, “Against the Antinomians,” in Martin Luther’s Basic Theological Writings,
ed. Timothy F. Lull (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2005), 203–207; J. Wayne Baker,
“Sola Fide, Sola Gratia: The Battle for Luther Seventeenth-Century England,” The Sixteenth
Century Journal, 16, no. 1 (1985): 115–118.
14
Baker, “The Battle for Luther,” 118–19; Rutherford, Spirituall Antichrist. While Baker pro-
vides a helpful account of the debate over Luther in the seventeenth century, he fails to understand
some of the subtleties of the arguments of men such as Samuel Rutherford who may have gone too
far in criticizing the perceived antinomianism of individuals such as John Eaton and Tobias Crisp
yet without being guilty of an incipient moralism in his sanctification views, as Baker charges.
Such a tendency is paralleled by his later claim that in England a bilateral and contractual covenant
tradition traced to Bullinger and Zwingli was pitted against the unilateral and promissory tradition
traced to Calvin. See J. Wayne Baker, Heinrich Bullinger and the Covenant: The Other Reformed
Tradition (Athens, OH: Ohio University Press, 1980). For a critique of Baker’s theory as well as
the unified duality of emphasis on both the absolute and conditional nature of salvation in Ruther-
ford, see John Von Rohr, The Covenant of Grace in Puritan Thought (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press,
1986), 31–32.
gospel was denied.15 For these two Calvinistic strains, charges of antinomi-
anism and eternal justification abounded.
Como discusses the emerging antinomian tendency by the 1620s in Eng-
land that exalted the saving merits of Christ to the exclusion of human
effort. Characteristics held in common in all antinomianism, especially as it
flowered in seventeenth-century England, included the tendency to view the
Ten Commandments as “abolished” for Christians in some sense; to reject
the perceived “pharisaical” demand for piety as evidence for justification;
to simultaneously stress human passivity and the power of the divine will in
salvation through Christ; to claim an exalted status in believers who, in
Christ, were free from the Mosaic Law; to declare that believers were effec-
tively free from sin “in the sight of God” and to give Christians a fuller
“sense of assurance and joy” based on the objective merits of Christ rather
than on the subjective “hand-wringing” of self-examination.16 Such charac-
teristics together represent the effort to exalt the grace of God in and eradi-
cate human participation from redemption as totally as possible.
Baker discusses antinomian defenders of “free grace” such as John Ea-
ton (c.1574–1641) and John Saltmarsh (d.1647), who appealed to Luther for
their distinction between the law and gospel.17 Eaton, for example, argued
in his Honey-Combe of Free Justification (1642) that we receive justifica-
tion by free grace without conditions, “objectively and passively” simply by
feeling our lost condition and “by the power of Gods imputation” being
“cloathed” with Christ’s righteousness. The justified are truly without sin in
God’s sight and find assurance in Christ’s righteousness and the free bene-
fits of salvation not in anything in them. “[T]hankful obedience” exists as
the fruit from not the ground for assurance, yet justification “makes us […]
to walk in all Gods Commandents zealously.” Still, contrary to Luther,
Eaton as an antinomian rejected preaching the terrors of the law to believ-
ers, which only leads to “hypocriticall legall holinesse.”18
The seventeenth-century zeal in England to claim allegiance to Luther
usually meant repudiating antinomianism whether from a defensive or an
offensive posture. Most Protestant theologians wanted to align themselves
—————
15
Peter Toon, The Emergence of Hyper-Calvinism in English Nonconformity, 1689–1765
(London: The Olive Tree, 1967), 144–45. See also Curt Daniel, “John Gill and Calvinistic An-
tinomianism” in The Life and Thought of John Gill (1697–1771), ed. Michael A.G. Haykin (Lei-
den, Netherlands: Brill, 1997), 171–90, for discussion of eternal justification and antinomianism
within high and hyper-Calvinism in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
16
Como, Blown by the Spirit, 34–37.
17
See Henry Denne, The Doctrine and Conversation of Iohn Baptist Delivered in a Sermon
(London, 1642); John Eaton, The Honey-Combe of Free Justification by Christ alone (London,
1642); John Saltmarsh, Free grace, or, The Flowings of Christs Blood Free to Sinners (London,
1646).
18
Baker, “The Battle for Luther,” 121–25; Eaton, Honey-Combe of Free Justification, 7, 25–
26, 29, 115.
dermine the doctrine of justification by free grace, yet the heightened stress
on sanctification as the proper evidence of grace became oppressive to the
consciences of believers and introduced a subtle legalism reminiscent of
Roman Catholicism. A renewed emphasis on free grace was meant to re-
lease Christians from this perceived bondage.22
This reaction in part helps to explain the emphasis on eternal justifica-
tion in seventeenth-century England in the quest to exclude any hint of
human contribution to justification. Within the controversy over one’s right
standing before God due to the imputed righteousness of Christ, justifica-
tion from eternity would become an issue. If one is freely justified without
faith as a condition, then justification could truly occur independently of
man at the time of Christ’s death or even from eternity in the mind of God.
As Carl Trueman testifies,
[T]he Protestant doctrine of justification by imputation was always going to be vul-
nerable to criticisms of tending towards eternal justification. Late medieval theologi-
ans had used the distinction between God’s absolute power and his ordained power,
along with that between congruent and condign merit, to break the necessary connec-
tion between the logical priority of actual righteousness in a real sense, and God’s
declaration that a particular person was justified. Thus, in placing the declaration in
God’s will, not the intrinsic qualities of the one justified, it is arguable that the neces-
sary connection not only between ontological factors and justification but also be-
tween chronological factors and justification had been decisively abolished. Given
that Protestantism actually intensified this medieval emphasis, it is not surprising that
some reformed theologians, […] should find themselves under suspicion of holding to
eternal justification.23
With the exaltation of sovereign grace external to man and simultaneous
downplay of anything inherent in him, the concept of justification before
faith from eternity or at satisfaction found fertile ground in antinomianism.
For example, Como calls attention to the antinomian doctrine of justifica-
tion before faith by way of the disputes that John Crandon (d.1654) had
with Somerset antinomians in the 1630s. Crandon in Mr. Baxters Apho-
risms Exorized and Anthorized (1654) attests that Baxter wrongly labeled
many orthodox men as antinomians and desires to show what “reall An-
tinomians” are. His list shows significant overlap with Como’s list above,
but one item that manifests importance in relation to eternal justification
concerns the proposal that the phrase, “Justification by Faith,” which attrib-
utes something to man, needs to be exchanged instead with “Justified by
—————
22
Jeffrey K. Jue, “The Active Obedience of Christ and the Theology of the Westminster Stan-
dards: A Historical Investigation,” in Justified in Christ: God’s Plan for Us in Justification, ed. K.
Scott Oliphint (Fearn, Scotland: Mentor Press, 2007), 110; Theodore Dwight Bozeman, The
Precisianist Strain: Disciplinary Religion & Antinomian Backlash in Puritanism to 1638 (Chapel
Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 2004), 3–7; Como, Blown by the Spirit, 29–32.
23
Trueman, “John Owen on Justification”, 91.
—————
24
John Crandon, Mr. Baxters Aphorisms Exorized and Anthorized (London, 1654), 263–66;
Como, Blown by the Spirit, 201.
25
High Commission Act Book, Manuscript Dd.ii.21, fols. 77v–78r, 1631 (Cambridge Univer-
sity Library), cited in Como, Blown by the Spirit, 202.
26
Como, Blown by the Spirit, 201–203; Robert Towne, The Assertion of Grace (1645), cited
in Como, Blown by the Spirit, 201; Thomas Taylor, Regula Vitae, the rule of the law under the
gospel (London, 1631), 124; Thomas Bakewell, A faithfull messenger sent after the Antinomians
(London, 1644), 1.
27
Dewey D. Wallace, Jr, Puritans and Predestination: Grace in English Protestant Theology,
1525–1695 (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1982), 114, 118, 119–120. See
also Daniel, “John Gill and Calvinistic Antinomianism,” 174, where he speaks of Crisp and Eaton
as more moderate than Saltmarsh who was “more reckless and extreme.”
—————
28
John Saltmarsh, Sparkles of Glory, or Some Beams of the Morning Star, 1647 (London:
William Pickering, 1847), 121–23.
29
Como, Blown by the Spirit, 203.
30
T. Wilson, A Dialogue About Justification by Faith (London, 1610), 98, 102, 131, cited in
Como, Blown by the Spirit, 204.
31
Ezekial Culverwell, A Treatise of Faith, 2nd ed. (London, 1623), 16–17. See Como, Blown
by the Spirit, 204.
nature of salvation: “But I must withal tell you that all this sanctification of
life is not a jot of the way of that justified person unto heaven.”36
Such statements call into question whether Crisp was properly antino-
mian, which becomes relevant when considering whether he embraced
eternal justification as some allege. Regarding faith, he claims, “no person
under heaven shall be saved till he have believed,” yet faith must not be
viewed as a condition of the covenant. Christ alone justifies and an “un-
godly person, after he is justified believes.” The act of justification having
occurred, it then terminates in the conscience by faith at which time justifi-
cation is manifested to the believer: “But he is first justified before he be-
lieves, then he believes that he is justified.” Thus, we are justified before we
know it, and faith simply provides to us the knowledge or the “evidence”
for our justification.37 This constitutes justification at satisfaction, which for
Crisp is intimately connected to identification with Christ covenantally.
We are made “partakers of the covenant,” claims Crisp, as Christ
“makes us to be in covenant, for his own sake” and not due to the fulfill-
ment of any condition. Not only does Christ bring us into the covenant, but
“Christ himself can be said to be the covenant,” and such occurs three ways.
First, “Christ is the covenant fundamentally” in that “[t]he covenant of
grace takes its being from Christ” as the second Adam who both makes the
covenant with God the Father in the counsel of redemption and undertakes
to accomplish all of its conditions. Thus, as a mediator, he brings God and
man together within a covenantal arrangement. Second, Christ “is materi-
ally, the covenant” as he, in his person, exists as “God unto the people” in
his divine nature and “the people unto God” in his human nature. Thus, God
the Father views the deity and humanity of Christ and then can embrace the
members of Christ’s unified “mystical body” as “part of him,” who is head
of that body. Third, Christ is “the covenant equivalently,” in the sense that
the conditions of the covenant are “fulfilled to the uttermost” at his death
when he redeems the elect as their surety. In this manner, Christ was “de-
livered over in justification” as though he were delivering money and re-
ceiving a “pawn” worth its entire value. This earnest belongs to the elect,
though in time the fruits of it are yet to be worked out in them.38
This covenantal development, Trueman argues, warns against the “bald
characterization” of Crisp as someone who holds to eternal justification.
Instead, he manifests a detailed Christological and covenantal scheme for
justification at satisfaction. The argument reflects the pains taken, as unsuc-
cessful as they may have been, to understand how human experience in
time connects to God’s relationship to it from an eternal perspective.39
—————
36
Crisp, Christ Alone Exalted, 1:68–69, 76–77, 123
37
Crisp, Christ Alone Exalted, 1:143–45.
38
Crisp, Christ Alone Exalted, 1:146–52.
39
Trueman, “John Owen on Justification,” 92–93.
—————
50
Anthony Milton, Catholic and Reformed: The Roman and Protestant Churches in English
Protestant Thought, 1600–1641 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 2–3, 529–546;
For a discussion on the threats of Popery, Arminianism and antinomianism at the Assembly, see
Jeffrey K. Jue, “The Active Obedience of Christ and the Theology of the Westminster Standards:
A Historical Investigation,” in Justified in Christ: God’s Plan for Us in Justification, ed. K. Scott
Oliphint (Fearn, Scotland: Mentor Press, 2007), 103–114.
51
For discussion on Baxter’s experiences with antinomians in general and John Saltmarsh in
particular in the Civil War, see Hans Boersma, A Hot Pepper Corn: Richard Baxter’s Doctrine of
Justification in Its Seventeenth-Century Context of Controversy (Vancouver, British Columbia:
Regent College Publishing, 2004), 31–32, 69; and Trueman, “John Owen on Justification,” 90–91.
Baxter has in mind the views of Saltmarsh expressed in Free Grace.
52
Robert S. Paul, The Assembly of the Lord: Politics and Religion in the Westminster Assem-
bly and the ‘Grand Debate’ (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1985), 176ff.
53
Chad B. Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation: Theological Debate at the Westmin-
ster Assembly 1643–1652,” 7 vol. (Ph.D. diss. University of Cambridge, 2004), 1:276. See Van
guard the free grace of God in salvation that they denied faith any involve-
ment at all in the actual justification of sinners. Thus, as John Lightfoot
observes in his journal entries from the Westminster Assembly, they main-
tained a “justification without faith” with faith being only a “manifestation”
of justification.57
Van Dixhoorn observes that some “labeled as antinomian by the As-
sembly” may have embraced only a “soteriological” antinomianism without
any “anti-legal” elements in their theology. The Assembly’s original peti-
tion that the moral law was being denigrated “in different degrees” impli-
cated the high Calvinists whose antinomian tendencies were less radical and
departed more from orthodoxy than orthopraxy. This soteriological strain
operated in a strongly anti-Arminian manner to protect the free grace of
justification. For Van Dixhoorn, justification before faith appears to be the
defining characteristic of what he calls “soteriological antinomianism.”
While the perspective contained no inherent anti-legal component, it re-
mained difficult to avoid the charge, since the radically unconditional justi-
fication before faith readily fostered an anti-legal mindset. In the end, he
claims that soteriological and legal antinomianism “were psychologically
inseparable.”58
Curt Daniel maintains a similar recognition in calling hyper-Calvinists
and some high Calvinists “Doctrinal Antinomians” over against the “Practi-
cal” version emphasizing freedom from the moral law. For the opponents of
the doctrinal strain, the “basic charge,” observes Daniel, “was that this
theological movement (Doctrinal Antinomianism) was unbiblical and pro-
duced licentiousness (Practical Antinomianism). Though much of the de-
bate was about justification, its root issue was the Law.”59 This raises the
question of how helpful the distinction soteriological or doctrinal antinomi-
anism was and can be, since its association to its legal or practical counter-
part seems impossible to avoid.
At the Assembly, the revision of the Eleventh Article was eventually
abandoned due to the Solemn League and Covenant (1643) with the Scots
and a call for an entirely new confession.60 The eventual expression of justi-
fication in the Confession of Faith reflects arduous consideration and debate
on the doctrine of justification. The Confession manifests the foundational
role of covenantal and Christological theology for the Puritans as evidenced
in chapter seven, “Of God’s Covenant with Man,” which sets forth the
—————
57
Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” 1:277, 280.
58
Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” 1:280–82.
59
Daniel, “Hyper-Calvinism and John Gill,” 305, 631, 645; Curt Daniel, “John Gill and Cal-
vinistic Antinomianism,” in The Life and Thought of John Gill (1697–1771), ed. Michael A.G.
Haykin (Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, 1997), 171, 175, 176.
60
Philip Schaff, The Creeds of Christendom, vol. I, The History of Creeds, 6th ed. (Grand
Rapids: Zondervan, 1977), 754–755.
—————
61
See Benjamin B. Warfield, The Westminster Assembly and Its Work (Edmonton, Canada:
Still Waters Revival Books, 1991), 60, where he notes that the “schematization of the Federal
theology” in the Westminster Confession (1646) exists as the “architectionic principle” or govern-
ing principle of the Confession.
62
The Westminster Confession of Faith (Edinburgh, 1649).
63
The Westminster Confession of Faith.
Chapter eleven does not manifest the language of the revised Eleventh
Article, which includes the idea that the “whole obedience” of Christ is
“imputed to us.” This statement came after intense debate over whether
passive obedience only was imputed or both active and passive.64 The Con-
fession remains somewhat non-committal to both positions. Vagueness on
this matter highlights the pronounced rejection of justification before faith
whether from eternity or at the death of Christ. The position of William
Twisse (c.1578–1646), the prolocutor of the Assembly who embraced eter-
nal justification, was thus clearly rejected. The majority of the Westminster
divines believed that justification must occur properly with the application
of Christ by the Holy Spirit “in due time.”65
The overwhelming concern for antinomianism at the Assembly remains
clear. Yet, the semi-Pelagian justification schemes of Arminianism and
Rome were still perceived dangers. Further, the majority position does not
indicate that antinomianism remained the greatest fear for all commission-
ers at the Assembly. Further, it is not the case that justification from eternity
or at satisfaction were viewed unanimously as distinctly antinomian doc-
trines. Twisse, for example, was not regarded as an antinomian by main-
stream Puritanism and yet he embraced eternal justification and apparently
held Tobias Crisp in high esteem. Samuel Crisp shares the testimony con-
cerning “the eminently famous Doctor Twiss” that “he had read Dr. Crisp’s
Sermons, and could give no reason why they were opposed, but because so
many were converted by his preaching, and so few by ours (saith he.)” J.I.
Packer suggests that Twisse may have influenced Crisp concerning justifi-
cation before faith.66
Additionally, the position of Thomas Goodwin, an Independent present
at the Assembly, must be considered here. In a manner consistent with the
Confession, Goodwin placed considerable covenantal and Christological
stress on his doctrine of justification. Yet, there exist indications that he
would have preferred an adjustment to the Confession’s statement on eter-
nal justification. Trueman attributes to him the position of eternal justifica-
tion as a Reformed orthodox theologian who was at the same time a strong
—————
64
The vote after debate on the Eleventh Article on September 12, 1643 revealed overwhelm-
ing support for including active obedience as part of justification by the “whole” obedience of
Christ. Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” 3:77, 1:321. The absence of the term
“whole” in chapter eleven of the Confession, not written until 1645, remains somewhat of an
enigma with such support. Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” 3:27. See also Jue, “The
Active Obedience of Christ,” 121–28. For the statement of the revised article, see S.W. Carruthers,
The Everyday Work of the Westminster Assembly (Philadelphia: The Presbyterian Historical
Society, 1943), 109.
65
See Van Dixhoorn, “Reforming the Reformation,” 1:277–78; and Jue, “The Active Obedi-
ence of Christ,” 115.
66
Samuel Crisp, Christ Made Sin (London, 1691), preface; J.I. Packer, The Redemption &
Restoration of Man in the Thought of Richard Baxter (Vancouver, Regent College Publishing,
2003), 250
—————
74
Jones, Why Heaven Kissed Earth, 235, 237; Jones, 235, claims that Peter Bulkeley (1583–
1659) in The Gospel-Covenant or the Covenant of Grace Opened (London, 1646), 321–22, may be
presenting a similar position as Goodwin with his three-fold understanding of justification as
“purposed” eternally, “obtained” by Christ, and “applied” for actual justification in the sight of
God. However, he may be simply reflecting a Reformed orthodox understanding of justification
related to decree, satisfaction and application as reflected in the Westminster Confession’s treat-
ment of eternal justification (10:4).
75
Richard A. Muller, “Grace, Election, and Contingent Choice: Arminius’s Gambit and the
Reformed Response,” The Grace of God, the Bondage of the Will, vol. 2 in Historical and Theo-
logical Perspectives on Calvinism, ed. Thomas R. Schreiner and Bruce A. Ware (Grand Rapids,
MI: Baker Books, 1995), 273–78.
76
Goodwin, Works, 4:277.
we can conclude that Goodwin did not embrace eternal justification proper,
even if he did admit, “Justified then we were, when first elected.” Such
justification, though continuous with it, did not constitute actual justifica-
tion in and of itself.
—————
77
Baxter, Aphorismes of Justification, 318–19.
78
Boersma, Hot Pepper Corn, 66–69.
79
William Pemble, Vindiciae Gratiae: A Plea for Grace (London, 1627; 2d ed., 1629), 21–22.
See Boersma, Hot Pepper Corn, 71–72. Boersma sees development in the thought of Pemble from
the time he wrote Vindiciae Fidei (1625), where he speaks of faith as a condition of the covenant
of grace laying hold of Christ who promises “remission of sinnes to such as repent and believe.”
Pemble has something more than justification in foro conscientiae in mind here as he calls it “the
gracious act of Almighty God whereby he absolutes a beleiving sinner accused at the Tribunall of
his Justice, pronouncing him just and acquitting him of all punishment for Christs sake.” In this
manner, he refers to justification by faith as in foro divino, since it leads to the appeasement of
“the infinite indignation of an angry Judge,” which transcends awareness in foro conscientiae of
justification already accomplished in foro divino (Hot Pepper Corn, 78–79). See Pemble, Vindi-
ciae Fidei (London, 1625), 17–18, 21, 22–24, 61, 153.
80
Pemble, Vindiciae Gratiae, 16–17, 22.
—————
93
Pemble, Vindiciae Gratiae, 17–21; Baxter, Confession, 236; Boersma, Hot Pepper Corn,
73–75.
94
See Richard A. Muller, Dictionary of Latin and Greek Theological Terms, Drawn Princi-
pally from Protestant Scholastic Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2003), 331, 334;
William Twisse, Discovery of D. Iacksons Vanitie, Or A perspective glasse, wherby the admirers
of D. Iacksons profound discourses, may see the vanitie and weaknesse of them (London, 1631),
536–37, 546.
—————
98
Herman Witsius, The Economy of the Covenants between God and Man, 2 vol. (Edinburgh:
Thomas Turnbull, 1803), 1.2.7.16; 1.3.8.45, 47–48, 51–52, 56–57.
99
Wilhelmus á Brakel, The Christian’s Reasonable Service, 4 vol. (Ligonier, PA: Soli Deo
Gloria, 1993), 2:376–81.
As noted, Eyre denied the charge of antinomianism while insisting that the
“whole Work of our Salvation” rested on “the Grace of God.” He attributed
antinomianism to “filthy Swine” such as Luther’s Agricola and Calvin’s
libertines, not those who affirmed “the unsoundness” of a faith that “doth
not work by love” and the hypocrisy of “Believers who do not bring forth
the Fruits of a holy life.” He claims that the law was used to drive men to
Christ who by faith became aware of justification “in foro Conscientiae,” as
“the Sentence of Forgiveness […] terminated in their Consciences.” He
denies that one is an antinomian just by affirming “Justification in foro
Dei,” an immanent act in eternal the tribunal of God, “without Works or
Conditions performed by us.” He does admit that the “loose” lives of many
professing believers has given “too much occasion” for some to “Blas-
pheme” the doctrine of free justification. Still, that God “imputes” the right-
eousness of Christ before faith, in no way remains “contrary to the Law,
seeing the Law prescribes not the rules of this imputation,” which will
necessarily issue forth in obedience to the law “because we are justified.”107
Eyre testifies that God “from all eternity immutably willed the Right-
eousness of his Son to all his Elect,” and so “we were justified in his sight
when he willed […] to deal with us as righteous persons, having given us
—————
105
Wallace, Puritans and Predestination, 120.
106
Trueman, “John Owen on Justification,” 97.
107
Baker, “The Battle for Luther,” 126; Eyre, Vindiciae justificationis gratuitae, 19–26, 72–
73.
with the tension of embracing justification in foro Dei from eternity to-
gether with actual justification in foro conscientiae in time.
In his response to Baxter’s challenge that “the Antinomians shew but
one Scripture that speaketh of justification from eternity,” Crandon notes
that the very words do not appear yet neither does the phrase “justification
by faith” in the teaching of Christ. Still, by inference Crandon maintains,
“the Scripture delivereth this doctrine which he opposeth, viz. justification
from eternity.” He points to 2 Timothy 1:9, which notes that we have been
“saved […] according to his purpose and grace, which was given us in
Christ, before the World began.” “See,” argues Crandon, “the grace of
justification and salvation was given us in Christ from eternity.” To the
argument that God simply “decreed from eternity” to justify believers, but
justification itself “must be in time.” Crandon argues less than persuasively
that even this position does not “deny that wee were justified in God, and in
Christ from Eternity.” Besides, Paul does not in this verse speak of the
believer’s participation in and justification by Christ “in time” but before
“we had any actual being in our selves.”114 Crandon summarizes his position
in the following manner:
That this immanent Act in God doth not deny his Transient Act of Justifying man
when he beleeveth, any more than this latter doth that former.
That the Transient Act of Justification consisteth not onely in Gods evidencing and
manifesting to the believer that he was really justified in God from eternity; but also
in Gods Actual, and Judiciall pronouncing of the sentence of Absolution to the soul
drawn to Gods Tribunal, and gasping for pardon thorough Christ. By means whereof
the poor sinner is constituted, as well as declared actually, and personally righteous,
and that before God his Justifier.
That as oft as the Gospel speaketh of Justification by Faith, it is in reference to this
Transient Act of God, not that Immanent.
That as I conceive the Covenant between God and Christ to be (if I may so term it) a
fruit, in order to that immanent act in God; so I think also that the Covenant of Prom-
ise, the Covenant under the Law, the Covenant under the Gospel, and the very Cove-
nant of Works to be subservient to this Covenant made with Christ as a publick per-
son, representing us, to work all coordinately to the advancing of the glory of Gods
Grace to this Elect, in justifying them in himself from Eternity.115
Crandon, charged with antinomianism due to his embrace of eternal justifi-
cation, as far as he admits it, in turn levels the allegation against Baxter that
his neonomianism is nothing more than Arminianism and papism:
—————
114
Crandon, Mr. Baxters Aphorisms Exorized and Anthorized, 238–40; See also 240–42; 245–
46. See Baxter, Aphorismes, 93.
115
Crandon, Mr. Baxters Aphorisms Exorized and Anthorized, 246.
10.6 Conclusion
bated the dangers and positively articulated a theology stressing both divine
and human activity within a covenantal framework cautiously connecting
eternity and time, and along with it, historia salutis and ordo salutis.
Within this milieu, the doctrine of eternal justification became a hot
topic. As Trueman noted earlier, the heightened stress on God’s eternal
decree for and sovereign declaration of a non-intrinsic righteousness af-
fected the doctrine of justification concerning both its ontological and
chronological natures. This created fertile soil out of which eternal justifica-
tion and positions approximating it quickly arose. In seventeenth-century
England, the quadruple threat to Reformed orthodoxy of anti-precisionist
antinomianism, Anglican Arminianisn, Romish Laudianism, and Baxterian
neonomianism manifested an environment in which these controversial
doctrines were promulgated, popularized, attacked, defended, ostracized,
and misrepresented from various angles and in different degrees.
Disputes arose and theologians sought, at times in an imbalanced man-
ner, to zealously defend their positions. In the process, generalizations and
associations were made on both sides that did not fit well. Once the charge
of eternal justification was leveled, the title of antinomian was sure to fol-
low due to what appeared to be the logical inseparability of the two. Those
embracing the doctrine or anything close to it were often quick to defend
themselves against the charge of antinomianism and/or eternal justification,
titles that continue to stick in the minds of contemporary scholars, even if
the adhesion is truly of little substance.
Of the list of individuals studied in this debate, which is not meant to be
exhaustive, the following observations are offered. Twisse, Eyre, and Cran-
don all laid claim to the position, but none were antinomian. This is not
meant to suggest that no antinomians held the position. Bakewell’s antino-
mian encounters in London and Á Brakel’s in the Netherlands show that
antinomians readily embraced eternal justification. Twisse held his position
from within an anti-Arminian context and no Reformed orthodox thinker
has accused him of antinomianism. Eyre claimed eternal justification from a
vehemently anti-antinomian posture. Still, that both men reduced faith to an
awareness of the actual justification preceding it, leaves them outside the
Reformed orthodox camp at this point. Interestingly, Owen may not agree
with this assessment, especially considering his commendation of Eyre and
men “better” than he who held the position, even though he both opposed
and categorically denied it.
Crandon boldly owned the position, yet from the definition used in this
study he does not fit the category. By maintaining that one is not actually
justified until he believes, his position more closely resembles that of
Goodwin. Still, Goodwin himself opposed eternal justification as defined
by this study. This warrants attributing to men such as Goodwin, Crandon,
and possibly Owen, a “nuanced” version of eternal justification, as Jones
Joel R. Beeke
11.1 Introduction
The Puritans treasured assurance of salvation. They viewed the assurance of peace
with God as a fountain that waters the Christian in his trials on the road to glory
(Rom. 5:1–5). According to Thomas Brooks (1608–1680), assurance makes
“heavy afflictions light, long afflictions short, bitter afflictions sweet.” It makes
the soul “sing care away.” It also makes the believer “more motion than notion,
more work than word, more life than lip, more hand than tongue.”1 Anthony
Burgess (d. 1664) describes how assurance produces fruit:
[Assurance] keeps up excellent Fellowship and Acquaintance with God [...]. It will
work a Filial and an Evangelical frame of heart [...]. [It] makes us also have the hum-
ble disposition of Sons; hereby we are carried out to do him service for pure inten-
tions and motives [...]. It will support, although there be nothing but outward misery
and trouble [...]. It will much inflame in Prayer [...]. It makes a man walk with much
tenderness against sin [...]. [The] heart will be impatient and earnest till the coming of
Christ [...]. The soul is more inflamed and enlarged to love God [...]. [It] will breed
much spiritual strength and heavenly ability to all graces and duties, to go through all
relations with much holiness and lively vigor [...]. [It] is a strong and mighty buckler
against all those violent assaults and temptations that the devil uses to exercise the
godly with [...]. [It] is a special means to breed contentment of mind, and a thankful,
cheerful heart in every condition [...]. [It] is a sure and special antidote against death
in all the fears of it.2
Instead of making a believer proud, secure, and “presumptuous in sin-
ning,”3 assurance helps him fervently love the Lord and carefully obey
—————
1
“The Unsearchable Riches in Christ” in The Works of Thomas Brooks (1861–1867; reprint,
Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 2001), 3:54, 160; “Heaven on Earth” in Works, 2:41. Parts of
this chapter have been adapted from my The Quest for Full Assurance: The Legacy of Calvin and
His Successors (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1999). I wish to thank Paul Smalley for his
research assistance on this chapter.
2
Anthony Burgess, Spiritual Refining: or a Treatise of Grace and Assurance (1652; reprint,
Ames, Iowa: International Outreach, 1990), 26, 681–83. Modernized spelling is used for all
quotations. Cf. Thomas Boston, The Complete Works of the Late Rev. Thomas Boston, Ettrick
(reprint, Wheaton, Ill.: Richard Owen Roberts, Publishers, 1980), 2:17–18.
3
The Works of Thomas Goodwin (reprint, Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2006),
3:417.
Him.4 John Ball (1585–1640) says, “He who is best assured hath most
power of God’s Spirit, and the stronger the Spirit of God is within, the more
holiness and fruits and grace without.”5 The very nature of assurance cannot
“breed any arrogance, or neglect of God and godliness,” Burgess says, since
“it is only maintained and kept up by humility and holy fear, so that when a
man ceaseth to be humble, to have an holy fear of God, his certainty like-
wise ceaseth, even as the lamp goeth out when the oil is taken away.”6 Hu-
mility is a special fruit of assurance. With assurance, self decreases and
Christ increases (John 3:30). As Robert Harris (1581–1658) writes, “The
more one grows in grace, the more he grows out of himself […]. We be-
come more humble and low in our own eyes.”7
Puritan pastors and theologians were deeply concerned with how believ-
ers may know that they have eternal life (1 John 5:13). They often studied
this subject. The Westminster Assembly met in the 1640s at the apex of
Puritanism. At least twenty-five members of the assembly wrote treatises on
the doctrines of faith and assurance, including: John Arrowsmith, William
Bridge, Anthony Burgess, Cornelius Burgess, Jeremiah Burroughs, Richard
Byfield, Joseph Caryl, Daniel Cawdrey, Thomas Gataker, George Gillespie,
Thomas Goodwin, William Gouge, William Greenhill, Robert Harris, John
Ley, John Lightfoot, Philip Nye, Edward Reynolds, Samuel Rutherford,
Henry Scudder, Obadiah Sedgwick, William Spurstowe, William Twisse,
Richard Vines, and Jeremiah Whitaker.
Puritan thought on assurance was largely unified; no significant debate
accompanied the writing of the Confession’s chapter on assurance.8 Chapter
18 of the Westminster Confession represents in mature form the unity of
Puritan teaching on the subject of assurance.9 However, some differences
do exist in Puritan thoughts on assurance.10 Some of the differences are
—————
4
George Downame, A Treatise of the Certainty of Perseverance (Dublin: Society of Station-
ers, 1634), 410.
5
John Ball, A Treatise of Faith (London: for Edward Brewster, 1657), 278.
6
Burgess, Spiritual Refining, 679–80.
7
Robert Harris, The Way to True Happinesse (London: I. Bartlett, 1632), 2:91.
8
Minutes of the Sessions of the Westminster Divines, ed. Alexander F. Mitchell and John
Struthers (London: William Blackwood & Sons, 1874), 282. See Chad B. Van Dixhoorn, “Re-
forming the Reformation: Theological Debate at the Westminster Assembly, 1643–1652,” 7 vol.
(Ph.D. dissertation, Cambridge University, 2004), 6:331–33, 411–12. Debate took place on assur-
ance issues on February 17–18, 1646, and July 24 and 30, 1646.
9
For an examination of Westminster’s doctrine of assurance, see Beeke, Quest for Full As-
surance, 119–64.
10
The most reliable secondary sources on the Puritan doctrine of assurance are Richard M.
Hawkes, “The Logic of Assurance in English Puritan Theology,” Westminster Theological Journal
52 (1990): 247–61, and “The Logic of Grace in John Owen, D.D.: An Analysis, Exposition, and
Defense of John Owen’s Puritan Theology of Grace” (Ph.D. dissertation, Westminster Theological
Seminary, 1987), 344–67; Geoffrey F. Nuttall, The Holy Spirit in Puritan Faith and Experience
(Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1946), 34–61, 138–41; John von Rohr, “Covenant and Assurance in
Early English Puritanism,” Church History 34, no.2 (1965): 195–203 and The Covenant of Grace
The Puritans distinguished faith from the assurance of faith. Samuel Ruther-
ford (1600–1661) writes, “That faith is essentially a persuasion and assur-
ance of the love of God to me in Christ, it is more than I could ever learn to
be the nature of Faith, a consequent separable I believe it is.”11 “It is one
thing for me to believe, and another thing for me to believe that I believe,”
says Brooks.12 William Ames (1576–1633) adds, “It also appears that assur-
ance of salvation is not, properly speaking, justifying faith but a fruit of
such faith.”13
This distinction between faith and assurance has profound doctrinal and
pastoral implications. To make justification dependent upon assurance
compels a believer to rely upon his own condition rather than on the suffi-
ciency of the triune God in redemption. Self-reliance is not only unsound
doctrine but also has adverse pastoral effects. God does not require full and
perfect faith but, rather, sincere and unfeigned faith. The fulfillment of
God’s promises depends on receiving Christ’s righteousness, not upon the
degree of assurance in that act.14 The smallest spark of faith is as valid as
mature assurance in terms of salvation. “Neither are we saved by the worth
or quantity of our Faith, but by Christ, which is laid hold of by a weak
Faith, as well as a strong,” writes John Rogers (c. 1570–1636).15 If salvation
depends on full assurance of faith, many believers would despair, for then
“the palsied hand of faith should not receive Christ,” says John Downame
(d. 1652).16
Most Puritans did not deny there was some assurance in every exercise
of faith, so they could say all believers possess at least some assurance at
—————
in Puritan Thought (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 155–91; C.J. Sommerville, “Conversion,
Sacrament and Assurance in the Puritan Covenant of Grace to 1650” (M.A. thesis, University of
Kansas, 1963); William K. B. Stoever, ‘A Fair and Easie Way to Heaven’: Covenant Theology
and Antinomianism in Early Massachusetts (Middletown: Wesleyan University Press, 1978), 119–
60.
11
Samuel Rutherford, Christ Dying and Drawing Sinners to Himselfe (London: J. D. for An-
drew Cooke, 1647), 85.
12
Thomas Brooks, Heaven on Earth (1657; reprint, London: Banner of Truth, 1961), 14.
13
William Ames, The Marrow of Theology, trans. John Eusden (Boston: Pilgrim Press, 1968),
167 (I.xxviii.24).
14
Ball, A Treatise of Faith, 84–87.
15
John Rogers, The Doctrine of Faith: wherein are particularly handled twelve Principall
Points, which explaine the Nature and Vse of it (London: N. Newbery and H. Overton, 1629), 201.
16
John Downame, A Treatise of the True Nature and Definition of Justifying Faith (Oxford: I.
Lichfield for E. Forrest, 1635), 12–13.
times. “There be Christians of all ages and of all sizes in God’s family,”
writes Robert Harris; hence, “all God’s children have some assurance,
though all have not alike.”17 Rutherford writes, “Faith is an assurance of
knowledge that Christ came into the world to die for sinners, and a resting
and a hanging upon Christ with all the heart for salvation.”18
Most Puritans teach that assurance grows organically out of faith like a
plant out of a seed. Assurance then pertains to one’s present degree of faith.
Ames writes, “Believers do not have the same assurance of grace and favor
of God, nor do the same ones have it at all times.”19 Richard Hawkes rightly
notes, “While the Puritans distinguish full assurance from the initial trust of
faith, they will not allow a division between the two, for full assurance
grows out of an assurance implicit in the first act of faith.”20 Thus Puritan
divines could speak of assurance growing out of faith as well as of faith
growing into assurance. For example, Brooks writes, “Faith, in time, will of
its own accord raise and advance itself to assurance.”21
But the Puritans usually focus on full assurance rather than the small but
growing element of assurance present in faith from its conception. They
differentiate between the faith of adherence to Christ and the faith of assur-
ance (or evidence) in Christ, whereby the believer knows that Christ has
died specifically for him.22 According to Anthony Burgess, “Faith of adher-
ence is many times where this faith of evidence is not […]. [By sin we
often] chase away our assurance; many times the people of God may walk
without this comfortable persuasion” of the faith of evidence.23
The Westminster Confession (18.3) states, “This infallible assurance
doth not so belong to the essence of faith, but that a true believer may wait
long, and conflict with many difficulties, before he be partaker of it.” Eng-
lish, Scottish, and Dutch theologians have written much about the Confes-
sion’s assertion that assurance does not belong to the essence of faith. Some
critics argue against it, saying the assembly denies an organic relationship
between faith and assurance. As evidence, they cite question 81 of the
—————
17
Harris, The Way to True Happinesse, 2:51.
18
Catechisms of the Second Reformation, ed. Alexander F. Mitchell (London: James Nisbet &
Co., 1886), 203.
19
William Ames, Medvlla SS. Theologiae, ex sacris literis, earumque interpretibus, extracts
& methodice disposita (Amsterodami: Joannem Janssonium, 1627), 1.27.19.
20
Hawkes, “The Logic of Assurance in English Puritan Theology,” 250.
21
Brooks, Heaven on Earth, 15, 21. John Dod and Robert Cleaver distinguished between
“moon-shine” assurance given upon assenting to and trusting in the promise and “sun-shine”
assurance attained with “full assurance” (A Plaine and Familiar Exposition of the Ten Comman-
dements [1603]), 10.
22
Ames, Medvlla, 1.27.16; Ball, A Treatise of Faith, 90ff.; Robert Bolton, Some General Di-
rections for a Comfortable Walking with God (London: Felix Kyngston, 1625), 321–22; John
Preston, The Breast-Plate of Faith and Love, 5th ed. (London: W.I. for Nicholas Bourne, 1632),
part 1, 63–64.
23
Burgess, Spiritual Refining, 672.
The Puritan writers said assurance is based on the covenant of grace and the
saving work of Christ. In turn, the covenant and redemption are grounded in
God’s sovereign good pleasure and love in eternal election.26 Assurance
flows out of the certainty that God will not disinherit His adopted children.
His covenant cannot be broken, for it is fixed in His eternal decrees and
promises. God’s covenant may be viewed as conditional upon faith, but also
as unconditional by sovereign grace.
On the one hand, the Puritans sometimes emphasized faith as a condi-
tion of the covenant. They cite God’s promise “that whosoever believeth in
—————
24
Brooks, Works, 2:371. Cf. Louis Berkhof, Assurance of Faith (Grand Rapids: Smitter Book
Co., 1928), 27–29, 43–44; James Buchanan, The Doctrine of Justification (1867; reprint, Grand
Rapids: Baker, 1977), 185, 378; Alexander M’Leod, The Life and Power of True Godliness (New
York: Eastburn, 1816), 246–47.
25
Rogers, The Doctrine of Faith, 200.
26
Jeremiah Burroughs, An Exposition of the Prophecy of Hosea (reprint, Morgan, Pa.: Soli
Deo Gloria, 1988), 590. Cf. Peter Lake, Moderate Puritans and the Elizabethan Church (Cam-
bridge: University of Cambridge Press, 1982), 99–104.
him should not perish, but have everlasting life,” and “He that believeth on
the Son hath everlasting life” (John 3:16, 36). Hence faith is the condition
of the covenant, and assurance depends upon the reality of faith. Ames
writes, “He that doth rightly understand the promise of the covenant cannot
be sure of his salvation, unless he perceives in himself true Faith and repen-
tance.”27 Peter Bulkeley (1583–1659) says, “The absolute promises are laid
before us as the foundation of our salvation […] and the conditional as the
foundation of our assurance.”28
On the other hand, the Puritans sometimes emphasized the uncondi-
tional nature of the covenant. This is not a contradiction, for in the covenant
God promises to give the conditions of the covenant. He says, “A new heart
also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take
away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh”
(Ezek 36:26). Thus, Ames could write, “The present covenant requires no
properly called or prior condition, but only a following or intermediate
condition (and that to be given by grace as a means of grace), which is the
proper nature of faith.”29
William Bridge (1600–1671) quips: “What if the condition of one prom-
ise be the thing promised in another promise? […] Now so it is that the
condition of one is the thing promised in another promise. For example: in
one promise, repentance is the condition of the promise (2 Chron 6:37, 38;
Joel 2:15–19). But in another promise, repentance is the thing promised
(Ezek 36:6) […]. The Lord Jesus Christ hath performed the condition of the
promise for you better than you can perform it.”30
The conditional yet unconditional nature of the covenant lends itself to
different emphases throughout Puritan teaching on assurance. Perry Miller
says: “The end of the Covenant of Grace is to give security to the transac-
tions between God and men, for by binding God to the terms, it binds Him
to save those who make good the terms.”31 John von Rohr points out, how-
ever, that Miller overlooks the Puritan teaching that the ultimate security of
the covenant rests in the one-sided action of God’s sovereign grace. Von
Rohr explains:
The Covenant of Grace is both conditional and absolute. Faith is required as a condi-
tion antecedent to salvation, but that very faith is already granted as a gift of election.
—————
27
Von Rohr, “Covenant and Assurance in Early English Puritanism,” 197.
28
Peter Bulkeley, The Gospel-Covenant; or the Covenant of Grace Opened, 2nd ed. (London:
Matthew Simmons, 1651), 323–24.
29
Ames, The Marrow of Theology, 151 (I.xxiv.19). See also von Rohr, “Covenant and Assur-
ance,” 201.
30
The Works of William Bridge (1649; reprint, Morgan, Pa.: Soli Deo Gloria, 1989), 2:132–
33.
31
Perry Miller, The New England Mind: The Seventeenth Century (Cambridge: Harvard Uni-
versity Press, 1939), 389.
anchor of hope must be fixed in that truth and stability of the immutable
good pleasure of God.”39 This “good pleasure” is not arbitrary, but testifies
of God’s faithfulness to His covenant. The God of election, of the covenant,
and of absolute promises also grants grace to perform the conditional prom-
ises. So von Rohr concludes: “Though grounds for assurance are in the
conditional covenant, they are not removed from the covenant as absolute.
Reliance must somehow be upon the promises of the latter in order that it
may also be on the conditions of the former.”40
—————
39
William Perkins, The Workes of that Famovs and VVorthy Minister of Christ in the Vniuer-
sitie of Cambridge, Mr. William Perkins (London: John Legatt, 1612), 1:114.
40
Von Rohr, The Covenant of Grace in Puritan Thought, 190.
41
John Owen, The Works of John Owen, ed. William H. Goold (reprint, Edinburgh: Banner of
Truth Trust, 1976), 3:367.
42
Edward Reynolds, Three Treatises of the Vanity of the Creature. The Sinfulnesse of Sinne.
The Life of Christ (London: R. B. for Rob Boftocke and George Badger, 1642), part 1, 365.
ance as much as pastoral balance. The glaring need of the people of his time
was to be shaken out of complacent, nominal Christianity.50 To emphasize
the promises could sing a lullaby to those who were already spiritually
asleep. Instead, Hooker shined the brilliant light of self-examination upon
their souls.
Did some Puritans believe that the inward evidences of grace, not the
promises, are the primary ground of assurance? That might be one’s first
impression of Anthony Burgess’s magnum opus on conversion and assur-
ance, Spiritual Refining. A quick glance at Burgess’s table of contents re-
veals over one hundred sermons on the signs of true conversion and how
they differ from counterfeit faith. Yet Burgess writes,
The great work of a Christian is, out of a sense and feeling of its own want and spiri-
tual poverty, to roll himself, and rest only upon Christ for Atonement and Reconcilia-
tion […]. Though the sight of thy graces be comfortable, yet that of Christ ought to be
much more. These graces are but the handmaids and servants that wait upon Christ,
they are but tokens from him, they are not himself: A man is not only to go out of his
sins, but also out of his graces unto Christ. See Paul in Phil. 3. How excellently doth
he debase all his own graces to be found in Christ. Let not therefore the desire after
inherent righteousness make thee forget imputed righteousness, for this is to take the
friend of the Bridegroom for the Bridegroom Himself.51
Here again the pastoral emphasis must not be interpreted as the theological
and logical priority of personal evidences of Christ over scriptural promises
of Christ. The Puritans were always people of the Book. Nevertheless their
Reformed Christianity has a strong experiential emphasis, and this empha-
sis sometimes leads them to give greater attention to testing one’s soul.
Burgess does not neglect the promises but seeks to find a copy of them
written in the heart.52
In conclusion, all Puritans believed that the foundations of assurance are
grounded in the promises of God and evidenced in the inward evidences of
grace. Some laid more stress on the former and some on the latter. Those
who emphasized the inward evidences of grace do not necessarily view
those evidences as primary, however. Rather, their emphasis is on the in-
ward evidences primarily for two reasons: (1) inward evidences require a
more detailed and nuanced treatment than do the promises of God, as the
inward evidences can encounter more pitfalls and dangers than the promises
—————
they will lose their life and sweet, and we shall lose the comfort of them, unless we look at them
thus, either as they bring us to Christ by the power of his spirit, or as they come from Christ by his
spirit inhabiting in us” (Thomas Hooker, The Application of Redemption [...] The first eight Books
[Cornhil: Peter Cole, 1657; reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1972), 105.
50
Iain H. Murray, “Thomas Hooker and the Doctrine of Conversion: 2,” The Banner of Truth,
no. 196 (Jan. 1980): 22–24.
51
Burgess, Spiritual Refining, 56–57.
52
Burgess, Spiritual Refining, 5–6.