The Canadian Red Ensign

The Canadian Red Ensign
Showing posts with label William Laud. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Laud. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 31, 2024

Beauty versus Blasphemy

The opening ceremonies of the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris became the latest in a series of highly controversial events to have occurred this July.  I am not going to say much about the others as they have to do with American domestic politics.  Nor am I going to say a whole lot about what happened at the Olympics as I am merely using it as a springboard for a discussion of theological aesthetics.  That it shocked anyone is rather surprising in itself.   What else would one expect from the games that represent the apex of Modern man’s regression into the pagan idolatry of sports, especially when located in the capital city of a nation that at the end of the eighteenth century threw off and murdered its divine-right king and queen, threw off its ancient allegiance to the Church, and paraded a prostitute through said capital telling the people to worship her as the “goddess” Reason?   Note that the part of the Olympic ceremonies that included a blasphemous reenactment of the Last Supper featuring drag queens, a celebration of Dionysius the Olympian whose festivals threatened civilization even in pagan days (read Euripides’ Bacchae), and the same sort of tasteless garbage that takes place in those silly parades in honour of the deadly sin of Superbia, also included an honouring of the French Revolution. Despite the glorious events of the ninth of Thermidor, the anniversary of which we just passed, France never recovered from this disaster, not even to the extent that England had recovered from the mother of all left-wing revolutions, the Puritan one, in the Restoration of the previous century and even that recovery, alas, was not as complete as it should have been.  Perhaps there are some who might still be surprised that an alphabet soup fest took place at what might reasonably be expected to be a celebration of jock culture.  Such have not been paying attention to how the costume and makeup division of the alphabet soup brigade have claimed the field of athletics as their own territory in the last few years.

 

Christian condemnation of the mockery of a key event in our sacred history has come under criticism from two directions.  There are those “liberal Christians” who can always be counted on to condemn any act of Christians standing up for themselves and their faith as being “unchristian”, “judgmental”, “hindering the Gospel”, “politicizing Christianity” or some other such balderdash. I place little value on such opinions and do not think them worthy of a response.  The other type of criticism is almost the opposite of this.  It takes Christians to task for being too milquetoastish in their defense of their faith.  The reason people like the performers at the Olympics and those who approved their performance feel free to mock Christianity in ways they would not feel similarly free to mock other religions such as, for example, Islam, is because Christians do not respond with such things as fatwas and jihads when their faith is mocked.  A more insightful variation of this would be to say that much of the Christian response to this mockery has been based on liberal principles rather than Christian ones.  In other words it has taken the form of “you wouldn’t treat other religions this way, it is unfair that you are treating us like that, this is discrimination” rather than “you have mocked the true and living God, Who will not be mocked, and furthermore mocked Him at a key moment in the history of His having taken on human nature and become Man in order to save us, the world, and yes, even you, from the sins for which we all must repent rather than celebrate as you are now doing, and if you don’t change your sorry ways and seek His forgiveness, you will suffer forever the consequences of mocking Him .”


This incident brought to mind an earlier controversy regarding a depiction of the Last Supper.  No, I am not referring to Dan Brown’s silly book but to a painting by Venetian Renaissance artist Paolo Veronese.  In 1573 he completed a very large – 18.37 ft. by 42.95 ft. – oil painting that had been commissioned by the Dominicans as a replacement for a painting by Titian of the Last Supper that had been lost to fire two years earlier.  The middle of the painting features Christ at the centre of a table with the twelve Apostles on either side of Him much like other familiar portraits of the Last Supper.  The setting is clearly not an upper room in first century Jerusalem, however, from the architecture of the room and the skyline of the city in the large window behind them.  Then there are all the extras.  There are close to fifty people in the painting, including a dwarf in jester’s attire, a few African slaves, German soldiers, and all sorts of other people, none of whom one would have expected to have been present on the occasion even if the factor of anachronism were to be excluded.  There are a number of animals there too including a cat peeking out from under the table at St. Peter’s feet at a dog sitting in front of the table and tilting its head to look back at the cat and a parrot on the jester’s arm.  These promoted an investigation by the local Venetian branch of the Inquisition which, on the grounds that he had violated the rules regarding religious art that the Council of Trent (1545-1563) had imposed, ordered him to fix the painting, which he did by re-titling it “The Feast at the House of Levi.”  Monty Python did a sketch loosely based on this although they switched in Michelangelo for Paolo Veronese and the Pope for the local Inquisition.

 

A comparison of this incident with the current one brings a few observations to mind.  It goes without saying, of course, that the Church was more powerful in the sixteenth century than today.  It is also evident that Veronese’s painting was not intrinsically blasphemous like the performance art at the Olympics.  Had it been so, the Inquisition would not have been satisfied with a change of title.  One conclusion that might be drawn from this is that the Church then took lesser offences in the realm of art more seriously than the Church today takes greater offences.  Which makes it interesting to note  that this incident occurred ten years after the closing of the Council of Trent.  The Council of Trent was the Roman Church’s response to the Reformation.  The Reformation primarily had to do with ethical matters (charges of ecclesiastical corruption that began with the 99 theses pertaining to the sale of indulgences) and doctrine (the authority of the Church in relation to that of Scripture, the doctrine of salvation), but there was also an aesthetic element that was intertwined with both the ethical and doctrinal.  The Protestant Reformers considered the invocation of the saints and a number of similar or associated practices to be in violation of the second commandment, that is to say, the commandment against idolatry.  This is an ethical issue because if the Reformers were right the practices in question are sinful, because idolatry is a major sin, and if the Reformers were wrong, they were guilty of the sin of falsely judging the motives of other Christians.  It is also a doctrinal issue, because for the Reformers to be right the ancient Christian doctrine of the Communion of the Saints, that all Christians, whether in earth or in heaven, are members of the one body of Jesus Christ within which there is no veil between the living and the dead because all are one in Christ, would have to be wrong.  It was an aesthetical matter as well and became increasingly so as the Reformation progressed and newer Reformers developed traditions within Protestantism that adopted such strict views as that any artistic depiction of God was idolatry or, more extremely, that any artistic depiction of anyone was idolatry, and that consequently Church buildings needed to be stripped of all adornment.  That it was the rules of the Roman Church, adopted in the Counter Reformation, that Veronese ran afoul of demonstrates something that a lot of Christians find difficult to grasp today.  Aesthetic permissivism is not the only alternative to Puritanism, the extreme version of Protestantism that stripped Churches of their artwork, Church music of its instruments, closed theatres, and basically looked at almost any attempt at artistic expression as an offense against the God Who had given the ability of artistic expression to man.

 

By “aesthetic permissivism” I mean the idea that artists should not be subject to any rules external to those of their art, an idea closely related to the idea that art should not be subject to any criticism other than aesthetic.  In practice these ideas quickly translate into the artist not being subject to any rules whatsoever and his art not being subject to any criticism.  These are popular ideas today, not least among artists for whom they have an obvious self-serving appeal, because of a) the widespread notion that beauty, the standard upon which all aesthetic rules and judgements are based, is purely subjective and b) the less widespread, except among left-wing activists who think they are artists, notion that beauty is a false standard that needs to be deconstructed and so art must be made to deliberately eschew the standard of beauty by embracing its opposite.  Much of the corpus of the late Sir Roger Scruton was devoted to demonstrating how erroneous these ideas are.  Most Christians are uncomfortable with aesthetic permissiveness in its bald form as described in this paragraph although there is an idea popular in certain Christian circles that resembles an inverted version of it.  This is the idea that while artists and their art should be subject to rules and criticism of a moral nature, albeit not to the extent demanded by Puritanism, aesthetic judgements are purely subjective and should not be influenced by theology or ethics.  A version of this that arises with regards to Church worship is the notion, often supported by a misinterpretation of St. Paul, that the matter of how we worship is adiaphora. Fr. Paul A. F. Castellano’s As It is In Heaven: A Biblical, Historical, and Theological Introduction to the Traditional Church and Her Worship (Tucson: Wheatmark, 2021) is an excellent rebuttal of this notion.

 

Puritanism is no more an acceptable position for orthodox Christians than aesthetic permissivism.  The premise that all artistic depictions break the commandment against idols can be answered in the same way as can the premise that killing in self-defense or defense of others, in war, and as the execution of a sentence for death passed for the commission of a capital crime are forbidden by “thou shalt not kill”, i.e., with “turn the page.”  Exodus 21:14-17 and 29 prescribe the death penalty for various offences in the chapter after “thou shalt not kill” or more literally “thou shalt not do murder” in Exodus 20:13.  Only a few chapters later in Exodus 25 comes the instructions on building the ark of the covenant, with the mercy seat, with two golden cherubim (images of heavenly – in the sense of the heaven where God dwells – beings) (vv. 18-20).  The candlestick was to have representations of almonds on it (Ex. 25:33-34).  The ephod of the high priest was to have depictions of pomegranates on it (Ex. 28:33-34).  The Puritan interpretation of Exodus 20:4 as forbidding all artistic depictions cannot hold up within the context of its own book.  It cannot hold up in the context of the next verse which provides the criteria which distinguishes an idol from something that is merely a work of art.  As for depictions of God, the ruling of the Second Council of Nicaea (787 AD) against iconoclasm maintained, Scripturally, that the Incarnation had changed things, He Who as the eternal Son of God is the perfect Image of the invisible God His Father (Col. 1:15, Heb. 1:3) became Man and in doing so revealed God that He might be seen in Him (Jn. 1:18, 14:9), and so since in the Incarnate Son God and Man are forever united in Hypostatic Union, God can be depicted because Man can be depicted.  The Second Council of Nicaea was a general council of the Church prior to the East-West Schism, received by the whole Church and both sides of the later Schism, as the seventh truly ecumenical council.  Protestantism’s reasons for rejecting it as such are insufficient in my opinion.  The attitude that manifested itself in the iconoclasm against which Nicaea II pronounced judgement and then later again in Puritanism goes back prior to the coming of Christ to the aftermath of the Maccabean revolt against the Seleucids.  Zealous lay leaders of Israel, recognizing from the prophets that the Assyrian and Babylonian Captivities had come upon Israel because of idolatry, determined that Israel would not only not practice idolatry again but would not be allowed to get close, and “hedged” the second commandment, and all the other commandments of the Mosaic Law, with extra commandments making the burden of the Law that much heavier.  These became the sect of Second Temple Judaism known as the Pharisees with whom Christ interacted in His ministry.  The spirit of Pharisaism is evident in the way the English Puritans responded to the efforts of Archbishop Laud and the other Carolinian Divines to maintain the “beauty of holiness” (Ps. 29:2, 96:9) in the English Church within the limits of the rubrics of the Protestant Elizabethan Prayer Book with accusations of papist conspiracies, armed revolt against Church and King, regicide, and a tyrannical regime that stripped the Churches of everything of aesthetic value.

 

While the Roman Church’s handling of the Paolo Veronese “incident” demonstrates that a mean can be found between these two extremes it does not necessarily illustrate what the proper mean should look like.  Let us return to the incident that prompted this discussion.  A better Christian response to the blasphemous mockery of the Last Supper than to rely solely on the liberal principle that one religion should not be singled out and targeted for the kind of mockery to which other religions would not be subjected is to stand on the Christian moral and theological principle that the true and living God will not be mocked.  To this moral and theological condemnation, however, must be added aesthetic condemnation.  The performance was bad not just on moral and theological grounds but aesthetic as well.  It was a display of ugliness not beauty.  Performances of this nature, even when they are not desecrating events from sacred history, generally are.  The spirit of mockery in which they are conducted, even when not directed explicitly against God, is directed against standards that are wrongfully considered to be oppressive, which in the arts means especially beauty.  Mockery of beauty is ultimately mockery of God, of course, because beauty like the other transcendentals (properties of being), goodness and truth, finds its ultimate expression in Him in Whom Being and Essence are one and Whose very name translates as “He Who Is.”

 

St. Peter commanded us to “be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you” (1 Pet. 3:15) and to give such a response as discussed in the previous paragraph to “artistic” assaults on the faith, Christians should familiarize themselves with basic theological aesthetics.  Although more has probably been written in the last hundred years on this subject than in all the rest of Christian history put together it is much more of a niche subject than its counterpart philosophical aesthetics, the field of the aforementioned Sir Roger Scruton.  Hans Urs von Balthasar’s seven volume The Glory of the Lord: A Theological Aesthetics (published in German from 1961 to 1967, English translation published by Ignatius Press in San Francisco from 1983 to 1990) is a good place to start.  For anyone wanting to learn more about how in God Being and Essence are the same thing read St. Thomas Aquinas, or if you are looking for a shorter treatment E. L. Mascall’s He Who Is: A Study in Traditional Theism, originally published in 1943, just republished last year by Angelico Press in Brooklyn.  Don’t mistake St. Thomas and Mascall as starting with being as possessed by created things and equating it with God.  This would be both idolatry and pantheism.  It is God’s Being, of which created being is merely analogous, that is one with His Essence, as no created being and essence are one.  For a warning against the idolatry of equating God with anything in creation, including our idea of Him, see the first chapter of Vladimir Lossky’s The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church (Crestwood: St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2002) but with the caveat that Eastern theology often takes its apophaticism to the extreme of denying the possibility of natural theology, a denial that is difficult to reconcile with the first chapter of Romans.  One final recommendation is Benjamin Guyer’s The Beauty of Holiness: The Caroline Divines and Their Writings (London: Canterbury Press, 2012), from the Canterbury Studies in Spiritual Theology Series.

Monday, January 1, 2024

Hier Stehe Ich!

 Every year since I started Throne, Altar, Liberty I have, on the kalends of January which is the Feast of the Circumcision of Christ on the Church Kalendar and New Year's Day on the civil calendar, posted an essay summarizing where I stand on matters political, religious and cultural, the subjects on which I write.  It is a custom I adopted from one of my own favourite writers, the late Charley Reese of the Orlando Sentinel.   I have often used Dr. Luther's famous "Here I Stand" as the title in one language or another.   This year it is the German original.  Each year it is a challenge to write this anew because, while I hope my views have matured they have remained basically the same.   Each year I have to resist  the temptation to  just point to T. S Eliot's "Anglo-Catholic in religion, royalist in politics, classicist in literature" and say ditto.   I usually do make reference to Eliot's famous self-description, which I read as a twentieth-century update of the definition of Tory that Dr. Johnson wrote for his dictionary, because it provides a handy frame on which to organize my thoughts.


Before getting into my views I will provide as usual some basic background information about myself.  I am a patriotic citizen of Commonwealth Realm that is the Dominion of Canada and a loyal subject of His Majesty King Charles III as I was all my life prior to his accession of his mother of Blessed Memory, our late Sovereign Lady Queen Elizabeth II. I love my country's traditional institutions, Loyalist history, and basically everything about Canada that the sniveling twit who currently occupies the Prime Minister's Office either wishes we would forget or is endlessly apologizing for.  I have lived all my life in the province of Manitoba, where I was raised on a farm near the village of Oak River and the town of Rivers, where I studied theology for five years at what is now Providence University College - at the time it was Providence College and Theological Seminary - in Otterbourne which is a small college town south of the provincial capital, Winnipeg, where I have lived for the almost quarter of a century since.


Am I, like T. S. Eliot an "Anglo-Catholic in religion"?  If by Anglo-Catholic you mean holding the theology expressed in the Library of Anglo-Catholic Theology, the admirable collection published by John Henry Parker in the nineteenth century of the writings of the classical Anglican divines of the centuries previous including Lancelot Andrewes, the martyred King Charles I's martyred Archbishop William  Laud and the other Caroline Divines, the scholarly apologist for Trinitarian orthodoxy Bishop George Bull and the Non-Juror George Hickes, I would say yes.     If you mean embracing the views of the Oxford Movement I would be more hesitant.   I think that the most important thing Keble, Newman, Pusey et al.  got right was that the truest and most important establishment of the Church was that by Christ through His Apostles rather than establishment by the state.   I have far less sympathy for the tendency that  manifested itself in some, not all, of them to look Romeward, to regret the Reformation for reasons other than that all schism that harms the visible unity of the Church is regrettable, and to regard the Anglican formularies with a "this will have to do for now" type attitude.   The Vincentian Canon, "that which is believed everywhere, at all times, and by all", and its tests of antiquity (does it go back to the Apostles), universality (is it held throughout the Church in all regions and ages rather than particular to one time and place), and consent (was it affirmed by the Church's leadership in a way that was subsequently received as authoritative throughout the Church) is in my view the right way of determining what is truly Catholic, not whether it has been declared dogma by the Patriarch of Rome or one of the Councils that his adherents have held since the Great Schism between East and West.   I come from a family in which most of my relatives were either United Church (Presbyterian/Methodist) or Anglican, became a believer with an evangelical conversion when I was 15, was baptized by immersion in a Baptist church while a teenager and confirmed in the Anglican Church as an adult.  As my theology matured I came to realize and respect the Symbols handed down from the ancient Church - the Apostles' and Nicene (Constantinopolitan) Creeds and the Athanasian Symbol - as the basic definitions of Scriptural orthodoxy, to recognize that episcopalian Church government is not adiaphora but clearly established in the New Testament (the Apostles governed the whole Church, while it was localized in Jerusalem they exercised the authority Christ gave them to establish the order of deacons, after the Church was scattered they appointed presbyters or elders over the local Churches which seems to be something they borrowed from the synagogues, and as their ministries closed they passed on to others, Scriptural examples of which include SS Timothy and Titus  their government over the Church including the power to ordain the lower  orders), and that the ministers of the Church are priests (St. Paul explicitly states this of himself in the Greek of Romans 15:15) charged not with offering new sacrifices but with feeding the people of God with Christ's One Sacrifice through the Sacramental medium of bread and wine.  Thus I am basically a High Anglican of the pre-Oxford type, with a  Lutheran soteriology, and a fundamentalist-minus-the-separatism approach to basic orthodoxy who regards every article of the ancient Symbols taken literally as fundamental and the Bible as God's written Word, by verbal, plenary inspiration, infallible and inerrant, which we are to believe and obey rather than to subject to "criticism" based on the false notion that because God used human writers to write the book of which He is the Author that it is a human book rather than a divine book.   Criticism based on that false notion makes fools out of those who engage in it, whether it be the higher critics who think that the fact that Moses varied which name for God he used means that his books were slapped together by some editor after the Babylonian Captivity from previously separate sources despite the total lack of anything such as examples of these "sources" in a pre-"redaction" state of the type that would logically constitute actual evidence or the lower or textual critics who think that the most authentic text of the New Testament is not to be found in that that has been handed down in the Church as evidenced by the thousands of manuscripts she has used (these are of the Byzantine text type) but either in small handful of old manuscripts that were not in general use and were particular to one region (the Alexandrian text) or in something slapped together by text critics in the last century which can be found in no manuscript whatsoever (the eclectic text).  Someone who makes the false idea that the Bible is a human book rather than God's book the basis of his study of it will end up drawing unsubstantiated conclusions about it that no competent scholar would similarly draw about actual human books and will end up sounding like a blithering idiot.  So expect me to thump the Authorized (1611) Bible as I tell you that salvation is a free gift that God has given to all us sinners in Jesus Christ, that the only means whereby we can receive it is faith,  that faith is formed in us by the Holy Ghost through the Gospel brought to us in the Word and Sacrament ministered to us by the Church whose Scripturally established governors under her Head, Jesus Christ, are the bishops in whose order the ordinary governing office of the Apostles has continued to this day.


That I am a "royalist in politics" should already be evident from the second paragraph if it is not sufficiently evident from the title of my website.   I will add here that I am also a monarchist.   For some that will be a redundancy, the two terms being for them interchangeable.   It is for the sake of others who distinguish between the two that I add that I am both.   I am a much stronger monarchist than those Canadian conservatives are who are basically liberal democrats but who defend our monarchy because it is our tradition and make its non-interference with their real political ideal the sole basis of their argument.   I have been instinctually a monarchist all my life.   While C. S. Lewis famously said that monarchy is an idea easily debunked but those who debunk it impoverish and bring misery upon themselves (I am paraphrasing from  memory, Lewis said it better than that) I have found as I have studied the matter over the years that monarchy is rationally defensible.   Plato and Aristotle argued that the rule of true kings is the best of simple constitutions and I think their arguments still stand, just as I think that in our age the divisiveness, partisanship, and other evils that attend upon democratically elected government make an ironclad case for hereditary monarchy that makes the unifying figure at the head of the state one who does not owe his office to partisan politics.  Thus I would say that we should be arguing that our monarchy is essential not that it is merely acceptable.   The Canadian Tory classic by John Farthing, Freedom Wears a Crown, makes a strong case for monarchy's essential role in our constitution similar to that frequently made by Eugene Forsey.  I am grateful to Ron Dart for drawing my attention to these men and their books years ago.   I find little to admire in the Modern ideal of democracy and defend instead the institution of Parliament for while Parliament is, of course, a democratic institution it is also a traditional one, a concrete institution that predates the Modern Age and has long proven its worth, which to me outweighs all the flimsy arguments Moderns make for democracy.   Ultimately, I have found a sure and certain foundation for monarchism in orthodox Christianity.   God is the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, the absolute Sovereign Ruler of His Creation, i.e., all other than Himself that exists.  In the governance of the universe, we find the ideal form - think Plato here - of government, of which temporal earthly governments are imperfect representations and to which, the greater their conformity, the more their perfection will be.   This is why the most orthodox forms of Christianity - traditional Anglicanism, Eastern Orthodoxy, traditional Roman Catholicism, and the better kind of Lutheranism - saw Christian monarchy as the highest form of earthly civilization, and the least orthodox forms that can still be seen as  Christian in some recognizable sense, Puritanism and Anabaptism, are the ones that contradicted the obvious implication of the title "King of Kings" by saying "no king but King Jesus".   


It is in the sense of someone who holds the views expressed in the previous two paragraphs and not in the common partisan sense of the word that I call myself a Tory.   The words "conservative" and "right-wing" as they are used today, even by most who self-apply them, have had their meaning defined for them by the very liberalism and the Left they purport to oppose.   Liberalism is the spirit of the Modern Age.   It consists of the demand for ever increasing liberty (in the sense of individual autonomy) and equality, despite the fact obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that these two cannot be maximized at the same time.   The universal homogeneity that it demands would if actualized be the ultimate form of totalitarian tyranny in which freedom, the real human good and not liberalism's false ideal of liberty/individual autonomy, would be eliminated entirely.   The Left also worships liberalism's false gods and historically has differed from liberalism primarily in its notion of how to achieve their goal.   A century ago the Left was identified primarily with socialism, the idea that all of man's problems can be traced to economic equality arising out of the private ownership of property and are solvable by eliminating private ownership and replacing it with public ownership.   From the standpoint of orthodox Christianity this is utterly repugnant because it misdiagnoses the human condition (the correct diagnosis is sin), prescribes the wrong medicine (the right medicine is the grace of God freely given to man in Jesus Christ), and is basically the second worst of the Seven Deadly Sins, Envy, disguising itself with the mask of the highest of the Christian virtues, charitable love.   Today, the Left is identified primarily with an expression  arising out of American racial grievance politics, "wokeness".   "Wokeness" is like socialism in that it claims (generally falsely) to be the mouthpiece for the oppressed, but differs from socialism in that it it does not divide people into oppressor/oppressed by economic status (Marx's "haves" and "have nots") but by a legion of personal identities based on such things as race, sex, gender, etc.   Some, such as Dr. Paul Gottfried, have argued on the basis of specific content that today's Left is something totally different from the Left of a century ago, from the standpoint of orthodox Christianity there is a discernable continuity in the Left.   Whether it speaks in terms of economics or in the terms of race and sex, the Left is an entirely destructive movement, driven by hatred of civilization as it historically has existed for not living up to the false and self-contradictory ideals of liberalism, that, whenever it has succeeded in tearing something down, has never been able to build anything good let alone better on the ashes of the good if not perfect that it destroyed.   The orthodox Christian must condemn this utterly because it clearly displays the spirit of Satan who operates out of the same hatred directed towards God.   Therefore I describe my orthodox Christian monarchist views as Tory and reactionary (in John Lukacs' sense of the term, basically someone willing to think outside the Modern box, not by embracing the nihilism of post-Modernism but rather the good in the pre-Modern), preferring these terms over conservative which for the most part denotes a false opposition to liberalism and Left defined entirely by liberalism and the Left.


As for being a "classicist in literature" I think that if we take this to  mean someone who seeks to learn from Matthew Arnold's "the best that has been thought and said" this is a goal that someone with the views expressed above can recognize as most worthy to pursue with regards not just to literature and reading, but to the other elements of culture such as music and the visual arts as well.   It is also a difficult one to consistently follow as many are the enticements, more so today than ever before, to distract one from the classical heights of the Great Books and the Great Tradition into the murky swamps of corporate, mass-manufactured, pop culture.   I have striven to follow this goal on and off again - it makes an excellent resolution for those who do that sort of thing today - with varying degrees of success at resisting the distractions.   Perversely, I have found stubborn contrariness has often been a great motivator in this regards.   I read Mark Twain's remark that a "classic is something that everybody wants to have read and nobody wants to read" years ago and thought to myself "Sez you, Sam Clemens" and set out to read nothing but classics, persisting in this for several months.   Similarly, Thomas Fleming, the former editor of Chronicles Magazine several times enriched my reading habits with remarks about about books nobody was familiar with today prompting a "Sez you, Tom Fleming" response.   Today, as the Left in its "woke" form as described in the previous paragraph has laid siege to the Great Books and the Great Tradition it is more important than ever to reacquaint ourselves with "the best that has been thought and said".   This is a far better and ultimately more effective way of resisting wokeness than generating and posting any number of anti-woke internet memes could ever be.   So I resolve today once again to seek to elevate my reading, listening and viewing habits in 2024 and  encourage you to do the same.


Happy New Year!

God Save the King!


Thursday, October 5, 2023

Tiers of Truth: The Creed and the Reformation

 

In my last essay, I looked at how Hyper-Protestants, those who are not content merely with opposing the errors distinctive to Rome that the Magisterial Reformers, continental and English, rejected, but who also oppose at least in part the Catholic tradition that belongs to all the ancient Churches and not just Rome, elevate their position in disputes over doctrines that are at best tertiary, over both the first rank of Christian truths – the Catholic tradition, especially the essential core which is the faith confessed in the Creed – and the second rank, the truths for the clarification of which, the Protestant Reformation was fought.   In this essay we shall look at that second rank of Christian truths and see why, important as they are, they should not be treated as on the same level or higher, than the truths of the Creed.

 

It is common among conservative evangelicals today to say that the Reformation was fought over the Five Solae – Sola Scriptura, Solus Christus, Sola Gratia, Sola Fide and Soli Deo Gloria.   In English these are respectively Scripture Alone, Christ Alone, Faith Alone, Grace Alone, and To God Alone be the Glory.   Note that you will find these arranged in different orders and while Sola Scriptura is more often than not the first and Soli Deo Gloria is usually the last, there is no correct order.   That doesn’t mean that the order is irrelevant.   The reason Sola Scriptura usually appears first is because it identifies the authority claimed for the others.   The reason Soli Deo Gloria usually appears last is because it is a conclusion that inevitably follows from the others – if Christ is the only Saviour, and salvation is by grace alone through faith alone, then God alone gets the glory for it.   The order of the three others varies the most.   I have placed them in the order that I think makes the most sense as a sequence where each item follows logically from that which preceded it.   That there is no “correct” order is because it is absurd to think of a correct order to a formulation that was thought up in the twentieth century, and imposed upon the theology of the sixteenth century.

 

That the Five Solae are a twentieth century formulation imposed on the sixteenth century is one reason why I do not think it is the best way of looking at the truths the Reformers stood for.   If this were the only reason it would not be sufficient cause for looking for another formulation since the same thing could be said of any alternative.   There are, however, other reasons.

 

It was Reformed theologians who came up with the Five Solae formulation.   The Reformed tradition already has a five point formulation.   This formulation is the canons of the Synod of the Reformed Church that met in Dort from 1618-1619 to respond to the challenge of Arminianism, a form of theology that had developed within the Reformed Church as a reaction against the strong Predestinarianism of the Reformed tradition.   The Arminians had issued a five-point challenge to the Predestinarian position in their Articles of Remonstrance, published in 1610 shortly after the death of their teacher Arminius the previous year, and in the Canons of Dort the Reformed Church responded to these Articles point by point.   The Canons are one of the Three Points of Unity of the Reformed Church, are very strongly Predestinarian, and, slightly rearranged, are familiar as the Five Points of Calvinism, the TULIP – Total depravity (or inability), Unconditional Election, Limited Atonement (particular redemption), Irresistible Grace (effectual calling), and the Perseverance of the Saints.   Of these, the doctrine of Limited Atonement – that Jesus died only for those whom God had pre-selected for final salvation and not for the whole world contradicts the plain teaching of Scripture (1 John 2:2) and undermines the sixteenth century Reformation understanding of the Gospel as the objective assurance of salvation to all who believe it, an understanding retained in the Lutheran tradition, but in the sixteenth century taught by the Reformed Reformers as well, including John Calvin.   It undermines this understanding of the Gospel, because a message of “Good News’ that says “if you are lucky enough to be one of those God pre-selected for salvation then Jesus died for your sins” is considerably less assuring than “Jesus died for your sins”.   Indeed, it ultimately undermines the Law-Gospel distinction so important to Dr. Luther and Calvin in that having stripped the Gospel of its objective assurance, the believer must look elsewhere for assurance that he is one of the elect, and the Dortians have generally directed such seekers to look inward to the fruit of sanctification, i.e., their own works.   Since the Five Solae is a formulation drawn up by theologians within the Dortian tradition, influenced by their own Five Points of Dort, it looks like an attempt, consciously or unconsciously, to the paint the entire sixteenth century Reformation with the brush of the Dortian Reformed tradition.   The Reformed tradition is but one of the three major traditions to emerge from the Magisterial Reformation, one that was already more radical in the sixteenth century than either Lutheranism or Anglicanism, and which became that much more so, at least in regard to Predestinarianism with the Synod of Dort.   It is a mistake, therefore, in my opinion, to try and read the entire Reformation through a Dort-inspired lens.

 

It is also a red flag that the common word to all five is “sola” or “alone”.    The reason this is a red flag is that isolating a truth from other truths is the formula for generating a heresy.   A heresy is not a simple error.   A heresy is a truth that has been set apart – alone – from other truths and so emphasized that other truths end up denied.   Unitarianism and Sabellianism, for example, so separate and overemphasize the unity of God, that they deny that God is Three in Person.   The opposite heresy of this is Tritheism, which emphasizes the unique Personhood of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost to the point of denying the unity of God and making the Three Persons into Three Gods.   Nestorianism emphasizes the distinction between Jesus’ two natures, His being fully God and fully Man, to the extent that it denies the unity of His Person by rejecting the Communicatio Idiomatum and asserting that something can be true of one of His natures that is not true of Him as a Person.   Monophysitism is the opposite heresy that emphasizes the unity of the Person of Jesus Christ to the point of denying the distinction between His natures and maintaining that His humanity was swallowed up into His divinity.   This is the nature of heresy, getting one truth alone, so that others are denied.   This is also why the opposite of one heresy is generally not the truth but another heresy.   Someone, recognizing that one heresy has denied an important truth, pushes back too far in asserting that truth, and in doing so rejects and denies the truth the original heresy had overemphasized.   A careful statement of truth, like the statement of the Hypostatic Union in the Definition of Chalcedon, avoids the heretical pitfalls of both extremes, in the case of Chalcedon the extremes of Nestorianism and Monophysitism.

 

This does not mean that the word “alone” always marks a truth that is in the process of being isolated into a heresy.   In the case of the Five Solae, each, if properly explained – and some need more explanation than others – is sound.   It does indicate, however, that a doctrinal statement in which each article is an “alone” statement is not the product of the same type of careful, precise, and contextual theological thought that went into the ancient Creeds and the Definition of Chalcedon.

 

Of the Five Solae, the one that requires the least by way of explanation is Solus Christus.   Jesus Christ is the only Saviour.   This is basically the same thing as what St. Peter said when addressing the high priests and Sanhedrin in Acts 4 he said “Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.” (vs 12)   Or for that matter what the Lord Jesus Christ Himself said when He told the Apostles after the Last Supper “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.” (Jn. 14:6)

 

Sola Fide requires Sola Gratia.    Sola Gratia is that salvation – the spiritual salvation that Jesus Christ, as the only Saviour, accomplished – is by the Grace, the freely given favour that is, of God alone.   Alone in this case means as opposed to “with the help of human works”.   The principle is spelled out in the fourth chapter of St. Paul’s epistle to the Romans where it is quite clearly, especially if the chapter is read in its own place in the context of the linear argument the Apostle makes in this book.  “Now to him that worketh is the reward not reckoned of grace, but of debt. But to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness” (vv. 4-5)   God’s saving favour is freely given to those who don’t deserve it.   It is not a reward to be earned but a free gift.   This is stressed repeatedly in the Pauline epistles.   It is only when this is first grasped that Sola Fide makes sense.    If God’s saving Grace is a gift freely given in Jesus Christ to those who do not deserve it (none of us deserve it – Rom 3:23) then how do those who do not deserve it and cannot earn it receive it?  By faith is the answer.   “Faith alone” means that faith is the sole means appointed to the sinner to appropriate the freely given Grace of God.   It is not an ontological statement about faith existing apart from repentance, Christian love, and the works Christian love produces in the heart and life of the believer nor is it a statement that faith is the “whole duty of man” or any such nonsense.  


While Sola Fide requires Sola Gratia and follows from Sola Gratia, and Sola Gratia follows from Solus Christus in that if Jesus, the Saviour God has given us, is the only Saviour, then salvation is a free gift by His Grace, Sola Fide then leads back to Solus Christus, for faith needs an object and that object is Jesus Christ the only Saviour.   Solus Christus in turn requires Sola Fide for if Jesus is our only Saviour and if He does all the saving without our assistance, the only thing left to us is to trust Him.

 

By contrast, Sola Scriptura requires the most by way of explanation.   If not carefully explained it can become the source of all sorts of bad doctrine and practice.   The Sola is the problem here.   Does it mean that the Scriptures are the only one of something like how Solus Christus means Jesus is the only Saviour?   Or does it mean that something is to be done by the Scriptures alone, like how Sola Fide means that the free gift of salvation is to be received by faith alone?   If it means that the Scriptures are the only one of something then what is that something?   Does it mean that the Scriptures are the only authority binding on Christians?   If that is what it means it contradicts those very same Scriptures.   Does it mean that the Scriptures as the written Word of God are the only earthly authority vested with infallibility?   This, I think, is much closer to the thinking of the Reformers, but let us consider the other possible interpretation of Sola.  If it means that something is to be done by the Scriptures alone, what is that something?   The answer that jumps to mind is prove and establish true doctrine but this raises yet another question.   Who is to prove and establish true doctrine by the Scriptures alone?   The Church or the private individual.   For Dr. Luther and the other sixteenth century Magisterial Reformers, the answer to this would have been the Church as the community of faith.  For the more radical Reformers – the continental Anabaptists, the English Puritans, the separatists and sectarians of various shades – the answer was the private individual.

 

If we take the idea that the Scriptures as the written Word of God are the only earthly authority that is infallible and the idea that the Church, not the private individual, is to prove and establish true doctrine by the Scriptures alone, these ideas together are a good picture of what the Reformers thought with regards to the Scriptures and what they were fighting for.   Personally, I don’t think the language of “Sola” or “Alone” is necessary to convey these ideas and that speaking of Scriptural Primacy or Supremacy accomplishes the job much better and without lending itself to the private interpretation view that gives birth to heresies, schisms, and enthusiasm of all sorts.  

 

Someone might object to this characterization of the Reformation position by claiming that Dr. Luther taught private interpretation.   This is not accurate.   Not entirely, at any rate.   Dr. Luther certainly did not practice private interpretation.   He did not ignore what previous generations of Christians going back to the Church Fathers had to say when interpreting the Bible.  Nor did he throw out the teaching authority of the Church and discard the Ecumenical Councils.  The Lutheran confessions contained in the Book of Concord are evidence of that.   What Dr. Luther did not admit to Church tradition, the Church Fathers, and the magisterium (the teaching authority of the Church) was a) infallibility and b) an authority over the Scriptures to impose a meaning upon them other than what is there in the text.   He did not admit either of these things to the individual Christian either.   He was fighting the false teachings of a Patriarch of Rome that had usurped jurisdictional authority over the entire Church, magisterial authority over the Scriptures themselves, and was already heading in the direction of Vatican I in which he would claim infallibility.   He knew that granting this same usurped authority to each individual Christian, thus in effect making each Christian his own pope, would multiply the problem not rectify it.   .Now, some apologists for the Roman Church might jump in here and say “Ha, gotcha, Luther said exactly that.   He said ‘In these matters of faith, to be sure, each Christian is for himself pope and church’”.   This is a quote that regularly pops up among Roman apologists when addressing Sola Scriptura but that was not what Dr. Luther was talking about.   These words originally appeared in the context of an extended discussion “Concerning Faith and Works” that appears in his Commentary on the Psalms, under Psalm XIV verse 1, in which Dr. Luther was talking about faith in Christ as opposed to faith in external ceremonies (formalism) and urging those who trusted in the outward works of ceremonies to cast such misplaced faith off.   In this context, these words do not mean that each Christian is “pope and church” when it comes to deciding what the Scriptures mean, but that when it comes to placing faith in Christ rather than externals, he, the Christian, should not wait approval from the Church hierarchy.

 

In other places Dr. Luther sometimes appears to affirm something like private interpretation when talking about the universal priesthood of all believers.   In the Western Church by the sixteenth century, an unhealthy gap between the clergy and the laity had developed.   It was widely thought, although not necessarily officially taught, that the priesthood and the laity were ontologically different classes within the Church, that the priesthood was assigned the active role of interpreting the Scriptures and sanctifying the people, especially through offering the Eucharistic sacrifice, and that the laity were assigned the passive role of believing whatever the priests told them and being sanctified by the Eucharistic sacrifice whether they partook of it Sacramentally or not.   Dr. Luther, rightly opposed this sort of thing, but in doing so, he incorrectly inferred from the universal priesthood of all members of the Church taught in the New Testament that Christ had not appointed a specific priesthood to lead His Church.   The inference is illogical – in the Old Covenant, all members of national Israel were said to be priests, but God also gave the nation the Levitical priesthood under the Aaronic high priesthood.   That the same was not true of the Church under the New Covenant, Dr. Luther and the other Reformers – except the English Reformers, and the Scandinavian Lutherans who departed from Dr. Luther in retaining the priesthood – argued on the basis of Christ having offered once and for all the one true Sacrifice, leaving the Church with only Christ’s High Priesthood and the universal priesthood.   This contradicts what the Apostle Paul said of his own ministry in Rom. 15:16.   The word translated “ministering” in this verse means “doing the work of a sacrificing priest”.   While the truth in the Reformation position was that Jesus by dying on the Cross for our sins and offering His blood in the Holy of Holies of the Heavenly Tabernacle once and for all accomplished the true Sacrifice to which the Old Testament slaying of animals on the altar and sprinkling their blood in the Holy of Holies pointed and any claim that a Christian priesthood is doing these things or anything analogous to them would indeed be blasphemous, the Reformers pressed the point way too far, because Jesus Christ’s One Sacrifice is clearly depicted in the New Testament as the food that sustains the everlasting spiritual life of the believer, and the Apostolic ministry as commissioned to make that Sacrifice available to believers through the means of the Sacrament.   The Apostolic ministry of the Church is, therefore, very much a “Christian priesthood”.   Of course, feeding the flock with the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ’s One Sacrifice is not something that can be done by the priests for the people without the people participating in the Sacrament and under the New Covenant, the substance of which the Old Covenant was the shadow, the Apostolic priesthood is not there to do everything for the people, but to lead the people in being the “royal priesthood” that they are in Christ.   In the teaching ministry of the priesthood, which the Reformers rightly thought had come to be neglected in the period leading up to the Reformation, the priests teach the Word to the flock, so that the flock can in turn teach the Word to others.   It is in this sense, of the flock passing on what they have learned and teaching others, that Dr. Luther sometimes uses language similar to that of private interpretation.    That he did not mean that each individual Christian can and should decide for himself what the Bible means, disregarding what the Christian community, the Church, in all previous generations have thought it means, is evident in his vehement rejection of those who thought just that in his own day – the Anabaptists.

 

Again, “Scriptura Suprema” or “Prima Scriptura” better express the Reformers’ position than Sola Scriptura.   The Reformers’ point was not to deny any authority to tradition or the Church but that these authorities are not higher than that of the Scriptures.   The Scriptures’ authority must necessarily be the highest due to the difference in kind between Scriptural authority and the authority of tradition and the Church.   The Scriptures are the inspired, written, Word of God, which never changes.   Tradition, by contrast, is always changing, growing, and adapting.   This does not mean the inflexible Scriptures and flexible tradition are opposed to each other.   Each has the qualities best suited to its own kind of authority.   Being “written in stone” – literally in the case of the Ten Commandments – is the quality needed in an infallible, highest authority that has the final say over lower authorities.   It is not so desirable a quality in other types of authority.   This is illustrated in the Scriptures themselves.   The inflexibility of the Law of the Medes and Persians proved to be a roadblock to stopping the plot of Haman when it was uncovered in the book of Esther, although, thanks to the ingenuity of Mordecai, it was not an insurmountable roadblock.   Michael Oakeshott, speaking of the “Rationalist”, the person who has rejected all knowledge as knowledge except technical knowledge and replaced tradition with ideology, writes “And by some strange self-deception, he attributes to tradition (which, of course, is pre-eminently fluid) the rigidity and fixity of character which in fact belongs to ideological politics” (the title essay of Rationalism in Politics and Other Essays, 1962).   Oakeshott, of course, was talking about political tradition rather than religious tradition, but fluidity is the nature of both types of tradition – I remember seeing a placard in the narthex of a Church in Toronto once that read “tradition is a moving target” – and this is tradition’s strength.   Tradition is an ongoing conversation between man who changes in his ever changing circumstances on the one hand and God Who never changes on the other hand, if it is religious tradition, the permanent things that reflect His character in the order of Creation – Goodness, Beauty, Truth – if is cultural or political tradition.   Tradition, therefore, needs to be fluid for the conversation not to become stagnant – reducing tradition to a rigid ideology is a bad thing – but it also needs an anchor to hold it to that which is immutable and good, and in the case of the Christian religious tradition this is the supreme authority of the infallible, written Word of God.

 

Soli Deo Gloria – to God alone be the glory – is in itself, a pretty straightforward and unobjectionable concept but it can be and has been taken to some strange extremes.   In the context of the Five Solae it clearly means that God deserves all the credit for salvation.   As is evident from the arguments of those whose Nestorian claims I answered in my last two essays, some seem to take it to mean that nobody else should get any honour of any type for anything whatsoever, with one person thinking that the appropriate way to avoid giving Mary the kind of honour and glory due only to God, is to heap mud on her.   This, of course, is antiscriptural.   God will not share the honour and glory due to Him alone with anyone else, but is constantly bestowing other types of honour and glory on people.  

 

Another way in which Soli Deo Gloria is taken to an absurd extreme is in the reasoning behind Dortian Predestinarianism.   Remember what we have already said with regards to Solus Christus, Sola Gratia, and Sola Fide, the trio of mutually interdependent affirmations regarding the freeness of the gift of salvation.  Jesus Christ is the only Saviour, He saves on the basis of freely given Grace and not on the basis of reward for works, and the only means whereby we receive this freely given Grace is faith.   Faith, as the means of receiving Grace, is distinguished from the means by which God brings the Grace that Christ obtained for us to us to be received.   The means by which God communicates Grace are two – the Word and the Sacraments – although both Word and Sacrament are forms of the Gospel, the message of the Good News of God’s gift to us in Jesus Christ.   God is the one Who communicates Grace to us through these means.   Faith, as the means by which we receive that Grace, is like a hand receiving a physical gift.  Under normal circumstances, nobody would think that someone’s stretching out his hand to receive a gift means that he deserves a share in the credit given to the giver for giving him the gift.   Indeed, under normal circumstances one would suspect anyone who suggested such a thing of being an idiot.   With regards to the gift of salvation, however, some think it appropriate to say that if the gift were given to all, with us left responsible to receive it by our faith, then this would mean that we get a share of God’s glory and credit and that this is unacceptable.   Well, let us humour such people, shall we, and consider the nature of the hand that receives the gift of salvation.   It is faith – believing something, trusting Someone.   With physical gifts and literal hands, the recipient makes a conscious act to stretch out the hand and take the gift.   It is an act of the will.   This is not the case with faith.   Nobody decides to believe anything, nobody decides to trust anyone.  I believe that Sir John A. Macdonald was the first Prime Minister of Canada.  This is not because I chose to believe this when I could have just as easily decided to believe that Timothy Eaton was the first Prime Minister of Canada.   I believe it because it was communicated to me by credible – literally “believable” from Latin credo, credere “to believe” – sources.   I trust the mechanic who changes the oil in my car.   I don’t do this because I choose to trust my mechanic when I could just as easily have trusted Ronald McDonald to do the job.   I do this because my mechanic has proven himself to be trustworthy.   That is how faith works.   Although the person with the faith is the one who does the believing or trusting in the active voice, faith is more fundamentally the passive result of the demonstrable credibility of the proposition believed, the person trusted.  What must be worded in the active voice when expressing the faith of a believer as a verb, is the passive of the act of “persuading” or “convincing” on the part of the object of faith.   So then, salvation is a gift, those who are saved don’t contribute to it but receive it, and the means by which they receive it is faith which even in other contexts doesn’t come from the person believing/trusting but from the persuading/convincing of the one believed/trusted.   Even this is not enough to secure Soli Deo Gloria for some people.   To these, unless you also say that the Gospel that God has given to all the world contains insufficient power in itself to bring anyone to faith but that God must also add to the Gospel a special work of irresistible grace that He gives only to a select few that He has chosen arbitrarily from eternity past, you have not sufficiently guarded the glory of God from being shared with the creature.

 

This sort of theology is the result, not only of taking the truth of Soli Deo Gloria to an unhealthy extreme, but of taking the Sovereignty of God to an unhealthy extreme as well.  Indeed, it often seems as if they think that the Sovereignty of God cannot be taken too far, but it most certainly can.   Consider what it is that is diminished or denied when the Sovereignty of God is taught in this way.   God as conceived in the theology of Dort may be bigger than how He is conceived in other theologies in terms of His Sovereignty.   He seems a lot smaller, however, in this theology by contrast with other theologies, in terms of His Love.    Which, His Love or His Sovereignty, does God so stress in the New Testament that He self-identifies with it?   This is not a hard question.  The answer can be found twice in the fourth chapter of 1 John, in the eighth and the sixteenth verse.   The answer is, of course, His Love.   Dortian theologians go to great lengths to twist the Scriptures so as to make God’s Love less extensive than a plain reading of the text would suggest.   St. John, after declaring “God is love” in the first of the just-mentioned verses, writes:

 

In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. (vv. 9-10)

 

The Dortian points to the words “toward us” and “that we might live” and “he loved us” and “propitiation for our sins” to limit the object of God’s love to us, believers, God’s elect.   Earlier in the epistle St. John had written:

 

And he is the propitiation for our sins: and not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world. (1 Jn. 2:2)

 

Even here the Dortians try to avoid the obvious, that God’s Love extends not just to us, His Church, but to the whole world, that God provided a propitiatory Sacrifice in Christ for everybody.

 

To so stress God’s Sovereignty that you diminish His Love in this way does make your God bigger than other peoples’ God, or to put it more accurately, does not make God in your conception of Him bigger than in other people’s conceptions of Him.   It makes your conception of God smaller, much, much, smaller.

 

What is the term again for when someone stresses one truth to the point of denying another that is equally or in this case more important?   It starts with the letter h, I believe.

 

There is no need for this sort of thinking to defend the glory of God.   Monergism, that God is the sole Actor in salvation, does not require double predestination, a limited Atonement, or irresistible Grace.   Lutheranism is monergistic without any of these things.   In Lutheran theology, God is the sole Actor in salvation, and faith like the salvation it receives is a gift God gives man, but God gives saving faith to man through the resistible intermediate means of the Gospel.   Therefore, the Grace that produces the saving faith that receives Grace, is given to everybody in the Gospel, but it can be resisted and rejected, and man in his fallen estate is inclined by Original Sin to resist and reject.   If someone comes to saving faith it is because this universal, resistible, Grace has prevailed, and it is entirely God’s work.  If someone ultimately fails to come to saving faith, it is entirely on him, it is not due to any insufficiency in the Grace given by God.   You can trace God’s work in those who believe back to eternity past and call it Election and Predestination.   You cannot do the same for those who do not believe.   Again, their failure to believe is entirely on them.   This is a sound way of looking at monergism and predestination.    It is the Lutheran way of understanding these matters but it is consistent with our Anglican Articles of Religion as well and, for what it is worth, it is my own understanding of how this works.   Indeed, it is the only form of monergism consistent with the distinction between Law and Gospel, and the Reformation doctrine of the Gospel as objective assurance of salvation.   The Law describes for us the righteousness that God requires of us as His creatures and subjects and in so doing convicts us of our sin.   It is because of our sin that we need saving.   The Gospel tells us that God has given us the salvation we need freely in Jesus Christ and promises us that it is certain in Christ to all who believe.   The Gospel meets the need of those convicted of sin by the Law, whether unbelievers needing to receive salvation, or believers needing to be assured of their salvation in Christ.   It directs both to look outside themselves and find what they need in Jesus Christ.   That Dortian predestinarian theology compromises that is evident in how quickly the Calvinist tradition departed from Calvin and began directing Christians looking for assurance of salvation to the fruit of sanctification in their own lives, blurring the Law/Gospel distinction.

 

So then, having sifted the grain of Reformation truth from the chaff of post-Reformation Reformed theology that often obscures it, the question remains as to whether this grain – the Scriptures as the supreme, final, infallible authority that keeps tradition and the Church accountable, salvation as the free gift which God has given us in His Son, Our only Saviour, Jesus Christ, which we receive by the means of faith, and the Gospel, in both its forms, Word and Sacrament, as the message that brings that salvation to us and assures us of it, as distinct from the Law – is on the same level of Christian truth as the Articles of the Creed.

 

Here is the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed adapted by the universal, undivided, Church in the first two Ecumenical Councils, as translated by Thomas Cranmer for the Book of Common Prayer, with the spelling updated:

 

I believe in one God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible, and invisible:


    And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only begotten Son of God, Begotten of his Father before all Worlds, <God of God>, Light of Light, Very God of very God, Begotten not made, Being of one substance with the Father, By whom all things were made: Who for us men, and for our Salvation came down from heaven, And was incarnate by the holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, And was made man, And was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate. He suffered and was buried, And the third day he rose again according to the Scriptures, And ascended into heaven, And sitteth on the right hand of the Father. And he shall come again with glory to judge both the quick and the dead: Whose kingdom shall have no end.


    And I believe in the Holy Ghost, The Lord and giver of life, who proceedeth from the Father (and the Son), who with the Father and the Son together is worshipped and glorified, who spake by the prophets. And I believe one
[Holy] Catholic and Apostolic Church. I acknowledge one Baptism for the remission of Sins, And I look for the Resurrection of the dead, And the life of the world to come. Amen. (1)

 

Those who would place the Reformation truths on the same level as those of this Creed, or even set them higher so as to write out of Christianity altogether the Church of Rome which confesses this Creed – and the Definition of Chalcedon and the Athanasian Symbol – and to assign it a place among the pagans or, more absurdly, identify it with the antichrist of eschatology (2),  are in effect saying is that it is less important to believe the truths of the Creed and trust the Saviour confessed in the Creed than it is to have a correct understanding of how the truths of the Creed fit into the order of salvation, the nature of their salvific benefits, and the mechanics of how one comes to believe.   I trust that you can see how ridiculous that is.

 

It is even more ludicrous when the broader historical perspective is taken into consideration.   Reformation soteriology depends upon an understanding of Christ’s saving work on the Cross that emphasizes the penal substitution aspect of the Atonement.   The Eastern Orthodox Church, which continues to place its emphasis where the Fathers of the first millennium did, on Christ as Victor (over Satan, sin, death, and Hell) in the Atonement, would point out how the emphasis on penal substitution in the Reformation understanding of the Atonement came about through theological development within the Roman Church after the Schism (St. Anselm of Canterbury in the eleventh century, St. Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth, the Reformation in the sixteenth).   Protestant soteriology, from the Eastern perspective, is dependent upon the Roman Catholic understanding of the Atonement.

 

I will conclude by showing just how narrow the disagreement between Roman and Protestant soteriology actually is.   Let us leave aside popular folk theology.   Confessional Protestants would not want their soteriology defined by those who think that one goes to heaven by saying the sinner’s prayer once, neither should Roman soteriology be defined by those who think that outward adherence to the Church will mechanically convey salvation upon them even if they have to suffer thousands of years in Purgatory first.   Consider the following soteriological statements:

 

Salvation is a gift of God.

 

Jesus Christ is the Saviour Who accomplished salvation by dying for us on the Cross.

 

Salvation includes both justification, which makes us righteous, and sanctification, which makes us holy.  

 

Both justification and sanctification have positional and practical aspects.   Positional justification and sanctification are God’s regarding us as righteous and set apart for Himself (holy).   Practical justification and sanctification are God’s making us righteous and holy in a way that is visible to others in our works. (3)

 

Justification and sanctification, in both their positional and practical aspects, are effected through our union with Jesus Christ.   Christians are united to Jesus Christ in His body the Church of which He is the Head.   Through this union, His death is our death, cancelling our sin debt as fully paid, and His righteousness is our righteousness, making us righteous and holy in Him in God’s eyes, and through this same union, His resurrection life is our new life, and He indwells us through the Holy Ghost to make His righteousness and holiness a lived reality in our lives.

 

Are these statements of Roman or Protestant soteriology?

 

They are statements that both sides affirm.   Where they differ is that Roman Church makes ongoing and final positional justification dependent upon the outworking of practical justification.   Both assert that practical justification occurs in all who receive positional justification.  Rome sees practical justification as contributing to positional justification after initial justification.   We see this as an error because practical justification is never completed in this life, the fruits of practical justification are therefore never perfect, and neither is therefore worthy of contributing to our standing before God, which is perfect from the moment we are joined to Christ, because it is our standing in Him.

 

Is this difference sufficient to justify writing a Church that confesses Jesus Christ in the faith confessed in the Nicene Creed out of Christianity?

 

Those who would say yes would maintain that the Roman Church has fallen into the error of Galatianism upon which St. Paul pronounced anathema in the Bible.   Galatianism was the error of the false teachers that had come to the Church in Galatia and told this primarily Gentile Church that they needed to become Jews – specifically to be circumcised and keep the ceremonial parts of the Mosaic Law – in order to be (ultimately) saved.  While Rome’s error bears some similarity to this – and Rome’s foolish decision to anathematize the Protestant position in the Council of Trent invites this retaliatory accusation – there are also huge differences.   The works, as the outcome of practical justification, that they see as contributing to ongoing and final justification, are not the ceremonial works of the Mosaic Law, but moral works of benevolence to others produced by the Christian love that the Holy Ghost works in the Christian’s heart through faith.   Think of the sort of works brought up in the Parable of the Sheep and Goats in the Olivet Discourse in St. Matthew’s Gospel.   I think that Rome is wrong to say that these contribute to the positional righteousness that is already perfect in Christ.   I don’t think that they are so wrong as to fall under St. Paul’s anathema in Galatians, however.

 

That neither side should have been so quick to issue the kind of condemnations each leveled against the other seems the only reasonable conclusion from the fact that the New Testament contains both the epistle of Romans and the epistle of James.   That the two epistles don’t contradict each other, all orthodox Christians must accept.   The question is one of how we understand them to relate to each other.   The Roman position is what you get when you say that St. James interprets St. Paul.   The Protestant position is what you get when you say that St. Paul interprets St. James.

 

Although one of our great orthodox Churchman, George Bull, the seventeenth century Bishop of St. David’s, argued the opposite in his Harmonia Apostolica, I think that St. Paul as the interpreter of St. James is the obviously correct position.   The Jacobean epistle is widely thought to have been the first book of the New Testament to have been written – Bishop Bull disagreed with this - and to have been composed very early.   Romans, although it appears first in the Pauline corpus in the usual order of publication in the New Testament, was the last of St. Paul’s epistles other than the Prison and Pastoral Epistles to be written.   It was composed while St. Paul was about to set out on the journey to Jerusalem that led to his arrest.   This would be in the late ‘50s.   While many of the same words – save, justify, faith, works – are found in both Romans 4 and James 2, one prominent word from Romans 4 is conspicuously missing in James 2.   That word is Grace.   That would suggest that St. James is not talking about justification by Grace, a conclusion that is supported by the fact that the word translated “only” in our Authorized Bible in the twenty fourth verse of James 2 is an adverb not an adjective, modifying “justified” not “faith”, and so the verse is talking about two justifications, one by faith and another by works, and not a single justification by both faith and works.   Finally, St. Paul includes a verse in Romans 4, the second verse of the chapter, that can be read as an affirmation and explanation of James.   No verse similarly explaining Romans can be found in St. James’ epistle.   If Romans 4:2 is St. Paul explaining St. James, then St. James is not talking about justification by Grace before God when he says that there is a justification by works as well as a justification by faith.

 

The Protestant view of justification – actually of salvation, for all of salvation, justification, sanctification, glorification, is a gift, given to us in Jesus Christ, brought to us in the Gospel, Word and Sacrament, and received by us by faith, with works coming out of salvation as its fruit, not contributing to it – is then the Scriptural and correct one.   This is not grounds to exclude ancient Churches that confess Jesus Christ in the articles of the Nicene Creed from Christianity.   As the Irish Anglican, Edmund Burke, put it in his Reflections on the Revolution in France:

 

Violently condemning neither the Greek nor the Armenian, nor, since heats are subsided, the Roman system of religion, we prefer the Protestant: not because we think it has less of the Christian religion in it, but because, in our judgment, it has more. We are Protestants, not from indifference, but from zeal.

 

The disagreement between Protestantism and Rome is a disagreement about the relationship between faith and works, the Creed is the faith.  The truths in the Creed, remain the core of the first tier of Christian truth.   The Reformation truths are important, but secondary.   Making them out to be as important as the truths of the Creed is the first step down the dangerous path of Hyper-Protestantism.

 

The best answer to Rome on the matter of salvation and justification was given by Archbishop Laud in his A Relation of the Conference Between William Laud, Late Lord Archbishop of Canterbury and Mr. Fisher the Jesuit, By the Command of King James.   The Anglican primate of the reign of Charles I quoted Roman apologist Cardinal Bellarmine as having written “that in regard of the uncertainty of our own righteousness, and of the danger of vainglory, tutissimum est, it is safest to repose our whole trust in the mercy and goodness of God” and commenting on these words said:

 

And surely, if there be one safer way than another, as he confesses there is, he is no wise man, that in a matter of so great moment will not betake himself to the safest way. And therefore even you yourselves in the point of condignity of merit, though you write it and preach it boisterously to the people, yet you are content to die, renouncing the condignity of all your own merits, and trust to Christ’s. Now surely, if you will not venture to die as you live, live and believe in time as you mean to die.

 

(1)   The words in <> were part of the Greek of the original Nicene Creed but were left out of the Greek of the Niceno-Constantinopolitan, the words in () translate the Latin filioque that is not in the Greek original and which is not accepted by the Eastern Church, and the word in [] was left out of the English for some reason, although it appears in both the Greek and Latin versions.   In the form published by the Councils, the confession was plural “we believe” but in liturgical use has been singular “I believe” even in the Greek , until in our own day liturgical revisionists decided to pluralize it again.


(2)   St. John writes “Who is a liar but he that denieth that Jesus is the Christ? He is antichrist, that denieth the Father and the Son.” (1 Jn. 2:22).  Again he writes “And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God: and this is that spirit of antichrist, whereof ye have heard that it should come; and even now already is it in the world.” (1 Jn. 4:3).   You cannot deny that Jesus is the Christ or that Jesus Christ is come of the flesh and confess the Nicene Creed, the Apostles’ Creed, the Definition of Chalcedon, and the Athanasian Symbol.   St. Paul writes “Wherefore I give you to understand, that no man speaking by the Spirit of God calleth Jesus accursed: and that no man can say that Jesus is the Lord, but by the Holy Ghost.” (1 Cor. 12:3)   Nobody, therefore, who claims to accept the Bible as the sole, infallible, authority, has any business to accuse the Roman Church or her Patriarch, of being “the antichrist”.   It does not matter that the Protestant Reformers used this language.   They were wrong.   As Protestants we have not replaced the error of papal infallibility with the error of the infallibility of the Reformers.   The Roman Church is a Christian Church that has erred, and the Roman Patriarch is a usurper of universal jurisdiction, which is a serious enough offense without bringing in accusations that are clearly unscriptural.   No, the Roman Patriarch’s usurpation does not make him “the man of sin” that St. Paul talks about II Thessalonians 2:3-10.   The Roman Patriarch has not declared himself to be God – not even when he falsely declared himself infallible in Vatican I.   Nor, if John 5:43 is as it is widely understood to be, a reference to the Man of Sin, has he been received as Messiah by those who reject Jesus Christ as Messiah.   Indeed, it is ludicrous to suggest that someone who confesses Jesus as Christ, and who leads a Church that confesses Jesus as Christ, would himself be accepted as Christ by those who reject Jesus as Christ.   Note that those who reject Jesus as their Messiah are not usually very fond of the Patriarch of Rome.


(3)  Theologians, both Roman Catholic and Protestant, often use justification to mean the positional standing of the Christian and sanctification to mean the ongoing practical work of transformation in the Christian life.   My wording in the text of this essay, is more precisely accurate.  Righteousness and holiness are not the same thing.   There are positional and practical aspects to both justification and sanctification.