Calvin – hamstrung by heaven?

One of the things I have felt to be a weakness of Calvin’s Institutes is a kind of persistent body – soul, spirit – matter, heaven – earth dualism that runs through the work. Here are some examples:

Surely the gospel does not confine men’s hearts to delight in the present life, but lifts them to the hope of immortality. It does not fasten them to earthly pleasures, but by announcing a hope that rests in heaven it, so to speak, transports them thither. (II.X.3)

As the angels enjoyed his Headship, why could Christ not rule over men also by his divine power, quiken and nourish them like his own body by the secret power of his Spirit until, gathered up into heaven, they might enjoy the same life as the angels! (II.XII.7)

I further say that there will be no one hereafter who will reach the goal of true perfection without sloughing off the weight of the body. (II.VII.5)

Now, of course, there is truth in each of these. But there is also a really worrying tendency, to my mind making its presence felt under the surface at more than one point. It is a pity, to be a little silly, that Calvin wasn’t able to read Byron’s series Heaven, Don’t worry, it’s not the end of the world!

Calvin on the Law 2

Last week I wrote that I thought Calvin’s take on the Law was a little too Mosaic-centric. I remain convinced of this point in general: I think Calvin overestimates the continuity with the Old Covenant and so accepts the Mosaic Law too straightforwardly. However, I have realised this judgment needs to be tempered. In a wonderful section (Book II chapter 8 section 57), Calvin argues at length that Jesus’ commandments to love enemies and bless those who persecute, etc., are genuine commandments. He hits the nail on the head with this passage:

To be Christians under the law of grace does not mean to wander unbridled outside the law, but to be engrafted in Christ, by whose grace we are free from the curse of the law, and by whose Spirit we have the law engraved upon our hearts.

Amen!

Calvin’s amusing take on Noah

Here’s what Calvin has to say about Noah’s life as an example of how God’s people don’t just have it easy:

While the whole earth lives in carefree pleasures, Noah spends a good part of his life in great weariness building the ark. He escapes death by that which brings greater troubles than if he had died a hundred deaths. Besides the fact that the ark was a sort of grave for him for ten months, there can be nothing more unpleasant than to be confined so long – almost immersed in the dung of animals!

Calvin on the law

Book II, chapter 7 of Calvin´s Institutes contains an extended discussion of the uses of the law. It is a classic investigation. Calvin argues that there are three basic uses of the law: to show us our sin and so lead us to seek God´s mercy; to restrain unjust men by threat of punishment and so protect the community; and to guide believers in the knowledge of the will of God. On the whole, this seems to me to be a helpful analysis, though I wonder if we need greater recognition of the historical particularity even of the ten commandments.

What is striking, however, is that the focus is almost exclusively on the Mosaic law. There is no consideration of ”law” as a Christian category, of Jesus´commandments, for instance, as law. This, I think, is significant, because when Paul talks about ”the law of Christ”, or James talks about the ”law of liberty” I´m not sure they simply had Moses in view.

If we are to have the ten commandments as Christian rules, then we must have them as they are given to us by Jesus. They must be carefully related to the moral teaching of our Lord. And this, I can´t help but feel, may change the way we talk about the ”uses” of the law. Jesus moral teaching is more than a mirror onto our souls (though not less); it is of limited use, I feel, as the foundation for a criminal code; and it is more than just a guide to God´s will. As Oliver O´Donovan put it, ”the command of God is not a crutch; it is a life giving command: rise up, take your mat, and walk!”

Calvin on truth and science

If we regard the Spirit of God as the sole foundation of truth, we shall neither reject the truth itself, nor despise it wherever it shall appear, unless we wish to dishonour the Spirit of God. For by holding the gifts of the Spirit in slight esteem, we contemn and reproach the Spirit himself. What then? Shall we deny that the truth shone upon the ancient jurists who established civic order and discipline with such great equity? Shall we say that the philosophers were blind in their fine observation and artful description of nature? Shall we say that those men were devoid of understanding who conceived the art of disputation and taught us to speak reasonably? Shall we say that they are insane who developed medicine, devoting their labour to our benefit? What shall we say of the mathematical sciences? Shall we consider them the ravings of madmen? No, we cannot read the writings of the ancients on these subjects without great admiration. (Institutes II.II.15)

This principle is a good one, and deeply relevant today. Calvin himself failed to apply it completely consistently: he called Copernicus’ theory idiotic. But he rightly saw the way forward. In my experience there are far too many Christians who dismiss “wordly truth”, and especially science, as worthless. But as Calvin says, to do so is perhaps even to dishonour the Spirit, who has given this truth from God.

Calvin on pictures

I have been reading Book One of Calvin´s Institutes and have found the experience both enjoyable and frustrating. Calvin´s general approach is well summed up in his comment, in the middle of the wonderful section on angels (chapter XIV), that “The theologian´s task is not to divert the ears with chatter, but to strengthen consciences by teaching things true, sure, and profitable” – his intention is clearly, and admirably, pastoral.

The work is forged in the fires of polemics (the most interesting section is, perhaps, the prefaratory address to King Francis!), which is both a help and a hindrance. This is especially apparent in the section on visible forms (chapter XI). In this chapter Calvin sees acutely the dangers posed by multiplication of icons and statues. Some of his criticisms are brilliant, such as his response to the argument that “images are the books of the uneducated”, that there would be no uneducated if the church had properly done its job of teaching its flock — a point that is still painfully relevant today.

However, I was struck by what I cannot but feel is an almost astonishing omission: there is no reflection to the incarnation in the entire section. The discussion proceeds almost entirely from a consideration of the second commandment. Yet any Christian theology of pictures and art must surely grapple with the fact that the God who cannot be represented by any man-made form “took the form of a slave… born as a man” (Phil. 2), that the word became flesh, so that the God whom no one has ever seen has been made known (John 1). Surely the incarnation must affect the way we understand the second commandment. Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God (Col. 1); and if the disciples had had a camera, they could have taken a photo… of God!

Calvin´s approach here has been followed by other evangelicals (e.g. Packer, Knowing God). There is a great deal that is good — a fact that is readily apparent to me at the moment, travelling in a country overwhelmed, I think, by idolatrous forms of Christianity. But the glaring lack of reflection on the significance of the incarnation is a real problem. We will never be able to properly respond to idolatry in the modern world unless we are gripped by the fact that God has made himself known in Christ, and “we have seen his glory”!