Enjoying God
Is the Reformation Over?
Oct 31, 2007[Since today is Reformation Day, October 31st, I thought I would re-post a review I did two years ago of the book, Is the Reformation Over? An Evangelical Assessment of Contemporary Roman Catholicism, by Mark Noll and Carolyn Nystrom (Baker). I hope you enjoy it.]
One of the highlights of having taught in the department of Bible, Theology, Archaeology and World Religions at Wheaton College was the annual Theology Conference, typically held in April. The conference was established by the late Timothy Phillips and Dennis Ockholm (now of Azusa Pacific College) and was co-sponsored by InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.
I mention this because I will never forget the 2002 conference (April 11-13), the theme of which was "Catholics and Evangelicals in Conversation". J. I. Packer was excellent, as was Richard John Neuhaus. But nothing could quite match the electricity caused by my former colleague Mark Noll who concluded his presentation with the statement: "The Reformation is over!" The buzz throughout the auditorium was palpable and the discussion that followed all over campus was heated.
So, needless to say, I know the answer to the question posed by the title to this new book. At least, I know what Mark Noll would say because he's already said it.
The major goals of this book are clearly stated in the Introduction. First "it is intended as an evangelical assessment of contemporary Roman Catholicism, with special attention given to the dramatic changes that have taken place since the Second Vatican Council. It deals primarily with conditions in the United States but not to the exclusion of evidence from Canada, Latin America, Europe, and elsewhere in the world" (13). The authors "do not propose a final, universal, or dogmatic assessment of Roman Catholicism" (13). The second goal is "to provide evangelical interpretations, grounded in both classical Christian theology and the broad history of Christianity, of what we see in the contemporary Catholic Church" (14).
Let me begin with a brief summary of the contents of each chapter and then follow up with a few observations as to its strengths and weaknesses.
Chapter One, titled "Things Are Not the Way They Used to Be," is a survey of developments in Catholic / Protestant relations in the past fifty or so years. The authors chronicle Billy Graham's journey from hostility toward Catholicism to his welcoming of Catholic leaders on crusade platforms. The chapter presents countless examples of individuals, publishing houses, and other evangelical organizations that have moved from suspicion to sincere embrace of those they now regard as their Catholic "brothers and sisters" in the body of Christ. A few instances of Catholic affirmation of evangelicals are also cited. Their point is simply that the antagonism between Roman Catholicism and Protestant evangelicals, once "an apparently permanent fixture" (35), has largely disappeared. "Since 1960 a new age has dawned" (35).
In Chapter Two ("Historic Standoff"), Noll and Nystrom chronicle the relationship (or lack thereof) between the two groups from the time of the Reformation to the post-WWII-era. To illustrate the tensions they cite a wide array of folk, including John Foxe and his Book of Martyrs, George Whitefield, the Wesley brothers, fundamentalist leader Carl McIntyre, Yale historian Jaroslav Pelikan, Reformed author Loraine Boettner, the editorial comments of Moody Monthly, and pastor Donald Grey Barnhouse, just to mention a few.
So, "Why Did Things Change?" asks the title of Chapter Three. The final answer to this question, they suggest, "must be that God willed the changes to take place" (59). That, of course, is precisely the point of dispute. Many will contend that the changes reflect a weakening of evangelical conviction that borders on moral compromise, something of which God would thoroughly disapprove. Others, Noll and Nystrom, to be sure, see these developments as the work of divine providence in healing a breach that is offensive to the sort of spiritual unity God desires of all his people.
They first cite changes within the Catholic Church itself, something that assuredly will catch a number of evangelicals by surprise. After all, one of the long-standing myths embraced by Protestants is that Catholicism, given its position on the authority of tradition and papal infallibility, cannot change. They focus extensively on the Second Vatican Council (1962-65), the declarations of which led such a staunch Reformed evangelical as David Wells in 1972 to conclude that the vast majority of Protestant analysis of Catholic doctrine is "obsolete" (60). The council placed an obligation on Protestants, said Wells, "to revise their thinking about Rome" (60).
The authors also point to changes in world Christianity, such as "the shift to the south in the center of gravity for world Christianity" which they believe has "relativized the antagonism inherited from European church history" (63; see Philip Jenkins book, The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity for documentation of this trend). Another significant factor is the charismatic movement which "blurred lines of distinction between Protestants and Catholics as they sang common worship songs, spoke in tongues, developed a ‘personal relationship with Jesus,' and praised God together "(65). The "new music, affective worship, and expressive spirituality" (65) of charismatic renewal often trumped the age-old theological barriers between the two groups. Evangelical youth movements such as YWAM and InterVarsity Christian Fellowship also promoted positive interactions between Catholics and evangelicals.
The changes in American politics and society have contributed to the emergence of what Timothy George called an "ecumenism of the trenches" (68). Increasingly evangelicals have found themselves on the same side of the road as Catholics on numerous moral issues such as abortion, traditional family values, repudiation of pornography, etc. The long-standing evangelical fear of Catholicism as a civil threat has largely disappeared. Of the many changes within evangelicalism one may cite a growing appreciation for the Catholic emphasis on ecclesiology, tradition, intellectual life, the role of the sacraments, and aesthetics, especially in worship, again just to mention a few.
Chapter Four focuses on the many "Ecumenical Dialogues" that have transpired since Vatican II. The authors provide a survey of the discussions between Catholics and, among others, Anglicans, Methodists, Pentecostals, the Disciples of Christ, Reformed, Lutheran, and Baptists. The primary discovery was that the doctrine of the church, or ecclesiology, remains central in all such dialogues.
They briefly discuss the many theological issues on which broad agreement may be possible as well as those topics that are still an obstacle to any hope for reconciliation. The latter include such controversial themes as the place of Mary and the honor accorded her, the issue of authority (especially as it obtains in the relationship between church and Scripture), the structure of the church, and the salvific efficacy of the sacraments. On the basis of such ecumenical dialogues, can it be said that the Reformation is over? "Probably not," they conclude. "But a once-yawning chasm has certainly narrowed" (114).
The "Catechism of the Catholic Church" (1994) is the subject of Chapter Five. Here Noll and Nystrom provide a superb summary of the Catechism and its fundamental teachings. This document, they argue, "is the official teaching of the Catholic Church, and it speaks for everyone within the church. . . . If something is not in the Catechism, it is not Catholic teaching. If something is in the Catechism, it is official Catholic doctrine" (116). Evangelical Protestants who read the Catechism "will be surprised by how much of it they can affirm" (119). I certainly found this to be true when I had my students at Wheaton read it for the course "Roman Catholic Theology". Most of them were shocked at how evangelical much of the Catechism sounded. The Catechism
"upholds God as Trinity, Jesus as wholly human and wholly divine, born of a virgin, crucified for our salvation. It speaks of justification by grace through faith - and entirely as a gift from God. It speaks of Christ's physical resurrection from the dead and the new life (both temporal and eternal) this resurrection brings to his people. It promises Christ's return, anticipates a final judgment, and calls on the people of God to spread the good news of the Christian faith, as did those who first heard it" (121-22).
Noll and Nystrom aren't in denial of the many remaining problems such as the use of the rosary, relics, prayers to and from the saints, devotion to the Eucharist, the immaculate conception, perpetual virginity, and bodily assumption of Mary, the necessity of baptism for salvation, papal authority, transubstantiation, and affirmation of indulgences (minus the medieval abuses, of course). But none of this prevents them from concluding that the "The Catechism proclaims a deeply Christian faith, and it does so with grace" (150). For many evangelicals it is precisely the former issues, together with a few more, that prohibits concluding that the Catechism, and Roman Catholicism in general, is a legitimate expression of true Christian faith.
"Evangelicals and Catholics Together," the project of Catholic Richard John Neuhaus and Protestant Charles Colson, is the subject of Chapter Six. The authors provide an extensive discussion of the creation, rationale, and response to ECT I ("The Christian Mission in the Third Millennium"), ECT II ("The Gift of Salvation"), ECT III ("Your Word is Truth"), and ECT IV ("The Communion of Saints").
Perhaps the key issue addressed by this organization(?), conversation(?), movement(?), is that of justification and the nature of Christian salvation. As Noll and Nystrom point out, "if evangelicals or Catholics view the other as not redeemed, then the biblical Great Commission mandates evangelism. But are active, wholehearted practitioners of the other faith tradition actually lost or simply viewing salvation from a different angle?" (179). The following paragraph is an apt summary of the state of the debate:
"Reformed or Calvinistic evangelicals, as well as a few Lutherans, who want to see an explicit statement of forensic justification (or salvation defined strictly as God's act of imputing Christ's righteousness to the repentant sinner) will remain disappointed. By contrast, Arminians and other evangelicals who do not stress imputation as strongly find little difficulty with the theology of salvation expressed in the ECT documents. This reality points to a basic though subtle difference between Reformed and Catholic teachings on salvation. Catholics emphasize justification as a heart change that gradually shapes a believer into the image of Christ. Reformed Protestants see justification as an external legal (forensic) declaration of God that pardons a sinner and then leads to growth in holiness" (179).
The authors go on to suggest that "debate on the exact definition of justification may not be as important as it seems" (180). They cite J. I. Packer's comment that "What brings salvation, after all, is not any theory about faith in Christ, justification, and the church, but faith itself in Christ himself" (180). For those who insist, following Luther, that justification remains the article by which the church either stands or falls, this will probably not suffice.
In Chapter Seven the authors describe "Reactions from Antagonism to Conversion." Among the more antagonistic cited are the inflammatory cartoon booklets of "Jack Chick", the spirited writings of R. C. Sproul, "The Cambridge Declaration" (1996) of the Alliance of Confessing Evangelicals, and John MacArthur. But they also cite many evangelicals who, "though aware of continuing theological differences, are ready, as a response to Christ's prayer for unity among his people, to partner with Catholics on many fronts. These fronts include social-political cobelligerency, the affirmation of ‘mere Christianity,' a common enjoyment of historical roots, the sharing of mission and ministry, and agreement on spiritual formation" (192).
People and organizations who are on board with the latter include Keith Fournier, Pat Robertson, J. I. Packer, Richard Foster, John Armstrong of Reformation and Revival Journal, John Green (a Catholic and a Wheaton graduate who operates Emmaus Ministries, which cares for sexually exploited men in the inner city of Chicago), Logos Ministry (in southern California and Arizona), Campus Crusade for Christ, Young Life, YWAM, and InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.
Among the Protestant evangelicals who have converted to Catholicism, the authors single out Thomas Howard (formerly professor of English at Gordon College and brother to Elizabeth Elliot), Dennis Martin (formerly a Mennonite, now professor at Loyola University), Peter Kreeft (formerly a Dutch Reformed Calvinist, now professor of philosophy at Boston College), musician John Michael Talbot, and Scott and Kimberly Hahn (Scott now teaches theology at Franciscan University in Steubenville, Ohio, and on occasion spoke at Wheaton as an invited guest).
The authors do make an important confession. "This chapter," they note, "treated only evangelical to Catholic conversions. Were it a different book, it would be important to hear from the many who convert from Catholicism to various branches of Protestantism" (207). I suspect that many who are reading this review have been waiting for precisely this discussion. Needless to say, they will be quite bothered by its omission. Many will contend that the Catholicism out of which they converted (or, as many would say, out of which they were "saved") bears little resemblance to the "evangelical and orthodox" version describe by Noll and Nystrom.
Chapter Eight, "An American Assessment," is the least helpful chapter of an otherwise good book. In it they seek "to sort out the current situation by analyzing the position of evangelicals and Catholics with respect to main themes in American history" (209). I suspect that many who read the book will be able to skip this chapter without great loss (although it is here that the authors briefly address the fallout from the sex-abuse scandal of the last decade).
The final chapter (9) asks the question again, "Is the Reformation Over?" They begin by pointing out that "there now exists a broad and deep foundation of agreement on the central teachings of Christianity" (230), listing several that were discussed in the chapter on the Catechism. When I read this, I wrote in the margin, "But these agreements existed in the 16th century too!" In the next paragraph, the authors acknowledge this point, but contend that "only in recent decades have the depth and significance of these common doctrinal affirmations been visible" (231).
They contend that Catholics and evangelicals "trust equally in the full inspiration and final authority of the Bible" (231). I find this hard to swallow, given the Catholic affirmation at the Second Vatican Council that "both sacred tradition and sacred Scripture are to be accepted and venerated with the same sense of loyalty and reverence" (Dei Verbum). In what meaningful sense can Scripture have "final authority" if "sacred tradition" is to be accepted and venerated with equal loyalty and reverence?
They also acknowledge that significant differences remain on how to interpret the Bible (given the Catholic emphasis on the voice of tradition and the formal teaching Magisterium of the papacy). It would appear that Noll and Nystrom do not believe that the differences over the nature of justification present an insurmountable barrier to reconciliation between the two. They believe the most serious obstacles revolve around the nature and authority of the church itself, especially as seen in the Catholic doctrine of papal infallibility and the Magisterium. Certainly, the evangelical fear that Catholic devotion to Mary occasionally borders on idolatry is cause for concern.
In the end, they suggest that "asking whether the Reformation is over may not even be the most pertinent question. It may be more to the point to ask other questions: Is God truly going to draw people from every tribe and tongue and people and nation - and major Christian tradition - to worship together the Lamb who was slain? Can he really make of them - all these tongues and peoples and traditions - a single kingdom united in the body of his Son Jesus Christ? Should believers in an all-powerful, all-merciful God doubt that such signs and wonders might still take place?" (251).
Let me close with a few observations. First, I was disappointed that Noll and Nystrom did not address the primary obstacle the Roman Catholic Eucharist poses. Contrary to what they say, it is not the question of transubstantiation or the "real presence" of Christ in the elements of the table (which isn't to say that isn't an important issue!). It is the issue of Catholic belief in the "propitiatory" efficacy of the Mass as a "sacrifice" of Christ.
The Council of Trent (16th century) issued the following declarations concerning the sacrifice of the Mass:
"And since in this divine sacrifice, which is performed in the Mass, the same Christ is contained, and is bloodlessly immolated, who once offered Himself bloodily upon the Cross; and the holy council teaches that this sacrifice is propitiatory [emphasis mine], and that by its means, if we approach God contrite and penitent, with a true heart, and a right faith, and with fear and reverence, we may obtain mercy, and grow in seasonable succour. For the Lord, appeased by the oblation of this sacrifice [emphasis mine], granting grace and the gift of repentance, remits even great crimes and sins. There is one and the same victim, and the same person, who now offers by the ministry of the priests, who then offered Himself upon the Cross; the mode of offering only being different. And the fruits of that bloody offering are truly most abundantly received through this offering, so far is it from derogating in any way from the former. Wherefore, it is properly offered according to the tradition of the Apostles, not only for the sins, punishments, satisfactions, and other wants of the living, but also for the dead in Christ, who are not yet fully purged" (Session 22, chp. 2).
"If any one shall say that the sacrifice of the Mass is only a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, or a bare commemoration of the sacrifice made upon the Cross, and that it is not propitiatory, or that it profits only the receiver, and that it ought not to be offered for the living and the dead for their sins, pains, satisfactions, and other wants -- let him be accursed" (Session 22, Canon 3).
This obviously raises the question of whether Rome teaches that the sacrifice of Jesus Christ is "repeated" in the Eucharist. Much depends on the meaning of the word "repeated". Here is what the Catechism says:
"At the Last Supper, on the night he was betrayed, our Savior instituted the Eucharistic sacrifice of his Body and Blood. This he did in order to perpetuate the sacrifice of the cross throughout the ages until he should come again . . ." (1322; emphasis mine).
"The Holy Sacrifice, because it makes present the one sacrifice of Christ the Savior and includes the Church's offering" (1330; emphasis mine).
"When the Church celebrates the Eucharist, she commemorates Christ's Passover, and it is made present: the sacrifice Christ offered once for all on the cross remains ever present. ‘As often as the sacrifice of the Cross by which Christ our Pasch has been sacrificed is celebrated on the altar, the work of our redemption is carried out" (1364; emphasis mine).
"The Eucharist is thus a sacrifice because it re-presents (makes present) the sacrifice of the cross, because it is its memorial and because it applies its fruit" (1366; emphasis in original).
"The sacrifice of Christ and the sacrifice of the Eucharist are one single sacrifice" (1367).
Does the Roman Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist undermine or question the sufficiency or finality of the redemptive work of Christ on the cross?" Peter Kreeft insists that it does not. He writes:
"Christ offered himself once for all on the Cross. He said, ‘It is finished' (Jn. 19:30). The Eucharist does not repeat this sacrifice, but re-presents it to the Father. The sacrifice that was accomplished on Calvary is offered again in each Mass. It can be offered now only because ‘it is finished', perfected, ‘a perfect offering" (Catholic Christianity, 326-27).
So, too, writes Alan Schreck, in his book Catholic and Christian:
"The Catholic church has never [!] taught that in the Mass Jesus is ‘re-sacrificed' or offered up to suffer again. The Catholic Mass is called a sacrifice because it ‘re-presents,' ‘re-enacts,' or presents once again before us, the one sacrifice of Christ on Calvary. Jesus Christ was sacrificed once, but God, in his mercy, makes present to us once again the one sacrifice of Christ through the Mass so that we human beings can enter more deeply into the reality and significance of that sacrifice. . . . What Jesus did in the past - his death on the cross - is present to God. God can make this sacrifice present to us when Christians gather to celebrate the Lord's Supper or Eucharist in his memory. Therefore, Catholic Christians believe that Jesus is not ‘re-sacrificed' in the Mass, but that his one sacrifice on Calvary is made real and present to us by God, so that we can enter into this central mystery of our faith in a new way" (133-34).
Are Kreeft and Schreck providing us with an accurate interpretation of Trent and the Catechism?
And what of the role of Indulgences and the Communion of Saints? Note again the Catechism on such matters:
"An indulgence is a remission before God of the temporal punishment due to sins whose guilt has already been forgiven, which the faithful Christian who is duly disposed gains under certain prescribed conditions through the action of the Church which, as the minister of redemption, dispenses and applies with authority the treasury of the satisfactions of Christ and the saints. An indulgence is partial or plenary according as it removes either part or all of the temporal punishment due to sin. The faithful can gain indulgences for themselves or apply them to the dead" (1471).
"In the communion of saints, ‘a personal link of charity exists between the faithful who have already reached their heavenly home, those who are expiating their sins in purgatory and those who are still pilgrims on earth. Between them there is, too, an abundant exchange of all good things.' In this wonderful exchange, the holiness of one profits others, well beyond the harm that the sin of one could cause others" (1475).
"We also call these spiritual goods of the communion of saints the Church's treasury . . . [which] is the infinite value, which can never be exhausted, which Christ's merits have before God. . . . This treasury includes as well the prayers and good works of the Blessed Virgin Mary. They are truly immense, unfathomable, and even pristine in their value before God. In the treasury, too, are the prayers and good works of all the saints, all those who have followed in the footsteps of Christ the Lord and by his grace have made their lives holy and carried out the mission the Father entrusted to them. In this way they attained their own salvation and at the same time cooperated in saving their brothers in the unity of the Mystical Body" (1476-77).
Thus, one obtains an indulgence when the Church opens for a believer
"the treasury of the merits of Christ and the saints to obtain from the Father of mercies the remission of the temporal punishments due for their sins. . . . Since the faithful departed now being purified are also members of the same communion of saints, one way we can help them is to obtain indulgences for them, so that the temporal punishments due for their sins may be remitted" (1478-79).
Do such doctrines undermine the finality and sufficiency of Christ's saving death and resurrection? Obviously, such questions beg loudly for clear and definitive answers.
And what of the doctrine of Purgatory? The Catechism defines it as follows:
"All who die in God's grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven. The Church gives the name Purgatory to this final purification of the elect, which is entirely different from the punishment of the damned" (1030-31).
According to Peter Kreeft, purgatory "refines and purifies those who at the moment of death are neither good enough for an immediate heaven nor bad enough for hell. . . . Purgatory is like heaven's porch, or heaven's incubator, or heaven's wash room" (149).
Thus purgatory is the means or mechanism by which Catholics believe God applies the merits and atoning sufficiency of Christ's death to believers. My question is this: "How is it that the sufficiency of Christ's suffering for sin is applied by requiring Christians themselves to suffer for sins? Was not the former designed to eliminate the latter?"
Until these matters are addressed with more honesty and depth, I'm not prepared to say Yes in an unqualified way to the question posed by this book's title. But I suppose you will have to read it for yourself and answer it according to your convictions. And I do strongly recommend that you read it. It is extremely well-written and well-researched and will contribute much to the on-going dialogue between Catholic and Protestant.
Celebrating the Reformation: A Lesson on God's Sovereignty over Human Sin
Oct 31, 2007Most of us would like to think that the Protestant Reformation, whose 490th birthday we celebrate today (October 31st), was always driven by godly motives on the part of people whose greatest desire was for a recovery of the New Testament gospel. Of course, this was indeed the intent of prominent figures such as Martin Luther (who nailed his 95 theses to the church door at Wittenberg on this day in 1517) and John Calvin, just to mention two more well-known names.
But such was not always the case. In fact, we see in certain events associated with the Reformation how sinful and politically motivated decisions were made that affected the course of human history and how God, in his sovereignty, used them (without justifying them) to bring about the much-needed renewal of the church.
I have in mind particularly the so-called "English Reformation" and the events surrounding King Henry VIII and his progeny. I'm especially intrigued by what happened in England given the release of the film, "Elizabeth: The Golden Age," a sequel to the earlier "Elizabeth" (both of which star Cate Blanchett in the title role; although not flawless, I highly recommend both films).
The reformation in England differed from that on the continent in several ways. For example, it was dominated by political events rather than theological convictions. In addition, there was no one figure who stood out in the way Luther, Calvin, or Zwingli did in Europe. And perhaps most important of all, the struggle in England, at least in its early years, focused less on doctrinal issues of grace and the authority of Scripture and more on the nature, function and worship of the church.
There were undoubtedly influences present in England that tilled the soil, so to speak, for what was to come. I have in mind the presence of the Lollards, the English followers of John Wycliffe; the humanists such as John Colet (1466-1519) and Sir Thomas More (1478-1535), as well as certain intellectuals at Cambridge who regularly met at the White Horse Inn, a pub that acquired the name "Little Germany" where the latest Reformation intelligence fresh from the continent was discussed. Luther's writings were being widely circulated in England at this time in spite of the papal decree in 1521 that they be burned. And we should never forget that William Tyndale (1494-1536) published two editions of 3,000 copies of an English New Testament in 1525, while Miles Coverdale provided the world with the first English translation of the entire Bible in 1535.
However, the primary impetus for reform in England had little if anything to do with popular disdain for late medieval Catholicism or the spiritual appeal of Luther's doctrine of justification by faith alone. It must be traced to the political ambition, sexual lust, and overblown ego of Henry VIII.
Henry was driven by many things, one of which was his passion to ensure that he had a legitimate male heir to succeed him on the English throne. Henry was a well-educated and scholarly man, a competent theologian and musician, who spoke Latin, French, Spanish and English.
Henry's father had arranged for Henry's brother, Arthur, to marry Catherine of Aragon (daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain). But Arthur died, forcing the elder Henry to press his younger son to marry Catherine. Pope Julius II first had to set aside Arthur's marriage to Catherine lest Henry be guilty of incest. He did so reluctantly. Henry and Catherine had one child, a girl named Mary (Catherine suffered numerous miscarriages, still births, and infant deaths). By 1525 Catherine was forty and had gone seven years without a pregnancy. Henry's desire for a son, plus his growing attraction for Anne Boleyn (with whose sister, Mary, Henry had already had an affair), led him to divorce Catherine (he appealed to Lev. 20:21), an action denounced by the Pope. The Pope had come under the influence of the emperor Charles V, Catherine's nephew!
Henry proceeded to secretly wed Anne (who was pregnant by this time), while deposing Catherine. The Pope demanded he do away with Anne and reinstate Catherine, under threat of excommunication. Henry gained control of the English church and manipulated the Parliament to pass the Act of Supremacy in 1534 which declared him, the king, to be the supreme head of the Church of England. This constituted the political break with Rome.
Not all of Henry's advisors agreed with his assertion of authority. Sir Thomas More, the brilliant humanist and author of Utopia, refused to renounce allegiance to Rome and was subsequently beheaded for treason. His head was displayed on London Bridge on the end of a pike as a warning to others whose loyalties might be divided between pope and king.
In 1536 Henry dissolved all the monasteries in England, largely because he desired their wealth. Still, it was not Henry's desire to break theologically with Rome, as the doctrinal affirmation known as the Six Articles (passed by Parliament at the king's request, 1539), demonstrate: they reaffirmed transubstantiation, celibacy of priests, and other RC distinctives. The fact is, Henry appears to have had little interest in the reforms advocated by Luther or Zwingli. His aim was to retain an English form of Catholicism stripped of its allegiance to the Pope (an allegiance Henry coveted for himself alone).
Henry soon tired of Anne Boleyn, who had given him only a daughter (Elizabeth), so he had her tried and eventually executed for adultery (along with five of her lovers). Henry persuaded Thomas Cranmer to declare his marriage to Anne void so that the child Elizabeth could not succeed to the throne. Ten days later he married Jane Seymour who bore him the son he always wanted, Edward. Nine days after Edward's birth, his mother died.
Henry's next marriage was politically motivated. He married Anne of Cleves (without having laid eyes upon her), sister of a German prince, hoping thereby to solidify relations with that country and strengthen his position against France. When Henry finally saw her, he was repulsed and divorced her six months later. He then married Catherine Howard, whom he had executed in 1542 (she was charged with numerous adulterous affairs), and lastly Catherine Parr, who alone of his many wives outlived him.
When Henry died he arranged for Edward to rule first, followed by Catherine's daughter, Mary, and then Anne's daughter, Elizabeth (about whom the two films noted above are concerned).
Several important changes were made during Edward's short reign (1547-1553): the reading of the Bible in public services was approved, the Six Articles of Henry were abolished, the clergy were allowed to marry, and the cup was granted to the laity. In 1549 the Book of Common Prayer was published, reflecting a conservative, Calvinistic theology. A doctrinal confession called the 42 Articles was drafted, largely by Thomas Cranmer, with the help of John Knox of Scotland (1553). Three weeks after signing it, Edward died. The significance of Edward's reign is that during this time England broke with Rome theologically. But this was not to last.
It was also during this time that a number of Reformed theologians from the continent settled in England and were assigned by Cranmer to influential positions at several universities. Among the more influential were Martin Bucer (Strasbourg reformer and mentor of John Calvin), Peter Martyr Vermigli (an Italian by birth), and John a Lasco. Their contribution to the Protestant movement in England was profound.
Bloody Mary, as she became known to history, was Henry's daughter by Catherine of Aragon and thus had ties with the RCC. Her reign, although only five short years (1553-1558), coincided with the Catholic Counter-Reformation on the continent and she was undoubtedly influenced by it. She forced Parliament in 1553 to repeal everything Edward had done and returned England to the religious conditions that prevailed under her father.
Persecution was intense and martyrdom frequent [Foxe's Book of Martyrs chronicles much of what occurred]. Among the more than 300 who died for their Protestant faith were Hugh Latimer (1485-1555) and Nicholas Ridley (1500-1555). These two stalwarts of the reformation were ordered to be executed outside the city gate of Oxford. As they were being led to the stake, they passed the prison in which Thomas Cranmer was jailed, hoping to catch a glimpse of him and shout a word of encouragement. Indeed, Cranmer was brought to the tower of the prison by the government to watch the proceedings. Their aim was to frighten him out of his defiance. Whereas Cranmer was overcome with anguish by what he saw, falling to his knees and bewailing the event, he remained steadfast.
Engulfed by flames, and with his last breath, Latimer uttered the famous words: "Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man. We shall this day light such a candle, by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out."
Thomas Cranmer (1489-1556) was Archbishop of Canterbury under Henry VIII and is generally regarded as the founder of English Protestantism. He was imprisoned when Mary ascended the throne. He was brainwashed while in solitary confinement and was compelled to write a denial (recantation) of his Protestant faith.
Despite his recantation, the law required that he suffer death. He was led to a packed church on the day of his execution, at which time the government and RCC anticipated that he would publicly denounce the reformation and affirm the authority of the Pope. Much to everyone's surprise, Cranmer seized the opportunity to proclaim his faith in the doctrines of the reformation. "And as for the Pope," he shouted, "I refuse him, as Christ's enemy, and Antichrist, with all his false doctrine."
Shocked, the authorities rushed to pull Cranmer from the pulpit and led him immediately to the stake. As he stood before the flames, he fulfilled a promise which he had made in his last shouts in the church. He stretched forth into the fire the hand that earlier had signed the document of recantation, declaring aloud:
"Forasmuch as my hand offended, writing contrary to my heart, my hand shall first be punished for it."
Virtually all those who were martyred lost their lives because they would not embrace the RC mass and its doctrine of transubstantiation. Those who were able to escape Mary's bloody persecution fled to Geneva (called Marian Exiles) where they studied under Calvin and Theodore Beza (among whom was John Knox).
When Mary died in 1558 she was succeeded by Elizabeth (1558-1603), daughter of Anne Boleyn. Elizabeth sought a middle ground between Protestantism and Catholicism (although her inclinations were toward the former). She passed the Act of Supremacy in 1559 that made her supreme ruler in both ecclesiastical and temporal affairs. She re-instituted the Book of Common Prayer with slight revisions and adopted the 39 Articles, a revision of Edwards' 42 Articles. In 1571 the 39 Articles were adopted by Parliament as the official creed of the Anglican Church and remain such to this day.
Pope Pius V proceeded to excommunicate Elizabeth and sent Philip of Spain to take back England for the RCC. Philip himself laid claim to the English throne via his marriage to Mary, Queen of Scots (Mary's grandmother was Henry VIII's sister). Philip's Spanish Armada was defeated in 1588. Countless explanations have been given for the demise of the purportedly superior Spanish fleet, one of which is noted by Thompson:
"As the armada came around the northern coast of Scotland and met the gales of the Atlantic Ocean, what remained of the great Spanish engine of war was hurled against the rocks or swamped in mid-ocean. No more than half of the Spanish Armada managed to struggle back to Spanish ports in 1589. History interprets the defeat of the Spanish Armada as an English victory. It was not thought so at the time. The armada had not sunk under English bombardment, but under the wind of God. 'Afflavit Deus,' said the English --- 'God blew!' (And the God who blew was no doubt Protestant). . . . It is probably an instance in which Divine Providence is given too much credit" (656-57).
Whatever explanation is most cogent, the fact remains that divine providence can hardly be given "too much credit"! Indeed, if we learn nothing else from these remarkable and often sordid events, let it be that divine sovereignty alone is sufficient to turn the arrogant, selfish, and sinful choices of men such as Henry VIII for his glory and the recovery of the gospel of grace.
Happy Reformation Day!
Sam
A Divine and Supernatural Light (2 Cor. 4.5-6)
Oct 29, 2007If Satan is actively blinding the minds of unbelievers to compound and perpetuate their bondage in spiritual darkness (2 Cor. 4:3-4), what possible hope is there? We seem left only to despair of unsaved loved ones. What, if anything, can bring the unregenerate into life? What, if anything, can dispel the darkness of unbelief and awaken the heart to the beauty of Christ? What, if anything, can we do in the face of such Satanic opposition?
The answer, said Paul, is to proclaim the gospel that Jesus Christ is Lord (2 Cor. 4:5)! Through the gospel, and only the gospel, is the light that brings life to be found.
In August of 1734, Jonathan Edwards (1703-58) preached one of his most famous sermons, rather cumbersomely titled: A Divine and Supernatural Light, Immediately Imparted to the Soul by the Spirit of God, Shown to be both a Scriptural, and Rational Doctrine. In this sermon, among other things, he explained the essence of the saving experience. What is it, precisely, that occurs when God causes new life to erupt from within the depths of a spiritual corpse?
The answer of the apostle Paul is that "God, who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness, . . . [shines] in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ" (2 Cor. 4:6). "You cannot go beneath this," said John Piper. "There is no deeper reality and no greater value than the glory of God in Christ. There is no prize and no satisfaction beyond this. When you have this, you are at the end. You are home. The glory of God is not a means to anything greater. This is ultimate, absolute reality. All true salvation ends here, not before and not beyond. There is no beyond. The glory of God in Christ is what makes the gospel gospel" (A God Entranced Vision of All Things, 259).
Seeing this light and knowing this knowledge and relishing the beauty of God's glory as revealed in the face of Jesus Christ are utterly impossible for fallen and depraved people unless God sovereignly shines his regenerating and saving mercy into our hearts, thereby dispelling the darkness of unbelief and hostility, and bringing to us a new sense of the sweetness and majesty of Jesus.
The contrast between v. 6 and v. 4 is shocking. Unbelievers are blinded by Satan. Believers are enlightened by God. Satan takes one from unbelief into total darkness. God takes one from total darkness into the brilliance of Christ's light!
The obvious background for Paul's language is Genesis 1:2-3 (cf. Acts 26:12-18). The original, primeval darkness that enshrouded the creation was dispelled by the divinely creative command: "Let there be light!" Likewise, by way of analogy, in sovereign, creative mercy, God fixes his gaze upon the darkness of sin, death, and blindness in the human soul and says: "Let there be light!"
We must not miss the emphasis Paul places on the glory of the gospel as it is proclaimed and what it means to those who believe. Paul himself literally saw the glory of God revealed in the literal face of Jesus when he was encountered on the Damascus road. That which Paul saw, he now sets forth by means of "the truth" (v. 2) of the gospel addressed to the ears of his hearers (i.e., to the Corinthians, to you and me).
When we by grace respond in faith, light from the glorified Christ shines into our darkened hearts (v. 6). As Paul Barnett points out, "such 'seeing' of 'the light . . . of the glory' is, of course, metaphorical for hearing. The gospel of Christ comes first not as an optical but as an aural reality (see, e.g., Rom. 10:17; Gal. 3:2,5; cf. 3:1). Nonetheless, his words are not merely figurative. The intensity of Paul's language suggests that he is appealing to shared spiritual experience, his own and his readers'. When the gospel is heard and the hearer turns to the Lord, the veil is removed so that he now 'sees' the glory of the Lord (see on 3:16,18)" (219-220).
Don't miss this: the glory of God is present in the proclamation of the gospel (4:4-6)! This is why Paul is so offended by the "peddlers of God's word" (2:17) in Corinth and those who "tamper with" the gospel (4:2). This is not a matter of mere words or a routine speech or a competitive attempt to appear more powerful or persuasive or verbally impressive than the other guy.
The proclamation of the truth of the gospel is not entertainment. It is not a platform for a preacher to enhance his reputation or pad his pocketbook or impress people with his eloquence. A preacher or teacher must never open the Scriptures flippantly or casually, as if setting forth the truths of the gospel were no different from any other form of communication.
The same applies anytime anyone shares the gospel with a passing stranger in a restaurant or distributes a tract to a friend. Just think of it: when you speak or write or share the message of the cross, "the light of the knowledge of the glory of God [as revealed] in the face of Jesus" (v. 6) is shining forth. What an awesome calling we have! What an exquisite treasure we carry (4:7)!
Edwards referred to this phenomenon as the shining forth of a divine and supernatural light. This experience, he argued, is not to be identified with the conviction of sin that unregenerate people experience. The Spirit can act upon the soul of an unbeliever without communicating himself to or uniting himself with that person. Nor is it to be identified with "impressions" made upon the "imagination". It has nothing to do with seeing anything with one's physical eyes.
The divine and supernatural light, said Edwards, does not suggest or impart new truths or ideas not already found in the written word of God. It "only gives a due apprehension of those things that are taught in the Word of God" (110).
We must also be careful not to identify it with those occasions when the unregenerate are deeply and profoundly affected by religious ideas. One may be moved or stirred or emotionally impacted by a religious phenomenon without believing it to be true (consider, for example, the widespread popular reaction to Mel Gibson's film, "The Passion").
So what is this "divine and supernatural light" that Paul describes in 2 Corinthians 4:6? Edwards defined it as "a true sense [or "apprehension"] of the divine excellency of the things revealed in the Word of God, and a conviction of the truth and reality of them, thence arising" (111). This is a profoundly supernatural experience in which a person doesn't "merely rationally believe that God is glorious, but . . . has a sense of the gloriousness of God in his heart" (111)
If you are wondering what the difference is between "rationally" believing that God is glorious and having a "sense of the excellency" of God's glory, it is the difference between knowing that God is holy and having a "sense of the loveliness" of God's holiness. It is not only a "speculatively judging that God is gracious" but also "a sense [of] how amiable God is upon that account" or sensing the "beauty" of God's grace and holiness.
An unregenerate person may have a cognitive awareness or knowledge of the terms of the gospel of Christ. But to recognize and relish the beauty or amiableness or sweetness of that truth and feel pleasure and delight in it are due wholly to the regenerating work of the Spirit. As Edwards said, "there is a difference between having a rational judgment that honey is sweet, and having a sense of its sweetness" (112). In other words, "when the heart is sensible of the beauty and amiableness of a thing, it necessarily feels pleasure in the apprehension" (112).
How does God shine this light into our hearts? He first "destroys the enmity, removes those prejudices, and sanctifies the reason [of a person], and causes it to lie open to the force of arguments for their truth" (112). He also causes the gospel to be more lively and enables the mind to focus and think and concentrate with more intensity on what is known. But this divine and supernatural light also enables the mind and heart, by "a kind of intuitive and immediate evidence", to be convinced of the truth of the superlative excellency of what is proclaimed in the gospel of Christ as Lord. Said Edwards:
"Men have a great deal of pleasure in human knowledge, in studies of natural things; but this is nothing to that joy which arises from this divine light shining into the soul. This light gives a view of those things that are immensely the most exquisitely beautiful, and capable of delighting the eye of the understanding. This spiritual light is the dawning of the light of glory in the heart" (123).
It's hard to put into words the enjoyment, delight, and sense of the sweetness of God that is imparted by the Spirit to the soul of man! Peter calls it "joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory" (1 Peter 1:8). What a marvelous blessing, indeed, with which nothing else in heaven or earth can compare, that hell-deserving sinners have imparted to them a "new sense of the heart" that consists in delight and enjoyment and an intuitive awareness or apprehension of the sweetness of God's beauty as revealed in the face of Jesus Christ.
Let us by all means "praise God from whom all blessings flow," and in doing so remember that this, dear friend, is the greatest blessing of all.
Sam
Tampering with God's Word (2 Cor. 4.2)
Oct 18, 2007Earlier in 2 Corinthians 3:17, the apostle Paul spoke of those who were "peddlers of God's word". In our meditation on that passage, I explained that he had in mind someone who dilutes the full strength of the gospel, perhaps eliminating (or at least minimizing) its offensive elements, or altering certain theological points, so that the finished "product" will be more appealing to the audience. The aim was obviously to gain as large a following as possible, and especially the money that comes with it.
In 2 Corinthians 4:2 Paul returns to that theme, but with a slightly different emphasis. Here he declares that he refuses "to tamper with God's word," but instead is committed to "the open statement of the truth." Whereas in 3:17 the motivation appears to be monetary gain, in 4:2 the agenda is unclear. Certainly money may still be in view, but other factors ought also to be considered.
People often "tamper" with God's word either to retain or expand their power base, to increase their popularity, or to avoid controversy and the discomfort it often creates. Some do so because of personal distaste for the hard truths of Scripture, to protect themselves against the contempt of those whose respect and acceptance they cherish, or in the interests of any number of personal agendas that require God's truth be treated as malleable and merely a means that may be manipulated to achieve whatever end is in view.
A brief glance across the broad spectrum of professing Christendom, if only here in America, reveals several expressions of the sort of "tampering" that Paul might well have in view. Let me cite a few examples.
One of the more explicit instances is the increasing trend toward either marginalizing or rejecting altogether the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement. Such folk often insist they haven't rejected penal substitution but wish only to recast it in such a way that its unsavory elements are discarded lest we give unnecessary offence to a society that longs for a more compassionate and less "violent" Christianity. Others argue that they still embrace penal substitution but have simply repositioned it to a subordinate, tangential role in our understanding of atonement. In other words, penal substitution isn't altogether denied, it is simply de-throned from its formative status as the dominant and controlling model for what Christ accomplished and relegated to "one of many valid metaphors" for the sake of maintaining a more "holistic" view of Christ's saving work. Once this is done, the notion of penal substitution is, for all practical purposes, never heard from again.
In the final analysis, few if any of these efforts to redefine the doctrine of atonement can escape the charge of having "tampered" with God's word. The unadulterated, sharp edge of the message of the cross in which Jesus Christ has, in our stead, propitiated the wrath of a holy God is more than they can swallow. Many contend that they've merely adapted the gospel to a post-modern world but have stopped short of tampering with the truths of Scripture itself. I'll leave it for you to judge if that's true.
Another example of "tampering" with the text is the tendency to disregard certain teachings because of the difficulty they pose for life in the 21st century. I'm thinking particularly of the explosive growth among evangelicals of egalitarianism and the repudiation of any distinctions in role or responsibility between male and female, whether in marriage or ministry.
Again, of course, those who've yielded to this temptation would never countenance my use of the word "disregard". They would consider that an unfair, inflammatory, and pejorative assessment of what they've done. What they insist has occurred is that a new hermeneutical paradigm or model for reading Scripture has emerged that enables them to see that certain NT guidelines or principles previously thought to be timeless and binding on the conscience of Christians everywhere were, in fact, culturally accommodated or merely part of a trajectory of truth that liberates us from the explicit boundaries of NT teaching and elevates the church into that "ultimate ethic" toward which the text is, allegedly, pointing.
I've found that in many cases (not all, mind you, but many) it wasn't that complementarianism was found to be biblically deficient or lacking in exegetical consistency. Rather, it made them feel like "fundamentalists" and threatened their acceptance and status within the broader evangelical community, especially the academy. Not wanting to be perceived as obscurantist or theologically naïve or culturally out of step, they relished these new proposals that appeared to undermine the traditional "hierarchical" (their word) understanding of the relationship between male and female in home and church. Wanting to be seen as progressive and in touch with the cutting edge of contemporary scholarship, a complementarian view of men and women was abandoned for an "easier" and "more palatable" perspective.
Another example of what I consider "tampering" with God's word would be the growth of what George Barna has called, in the title to his most recent and popular book, the Revolution among professing evangelicals who now find active participation in local church life unappealing and, worse still, unnecessary.
Then, of course, there are those who don't like being branded as narrow-minded and arrogant exclusivists when it comes to the issue of salvation. The redemptive work of Christ may well be necessary as the foundation for any possibility of eternal life, but conscious faith in him alone is being discarded in favor of an inclusivism that now recognizes saving power in all (or most) non-Christian religions. The next (and seemingly inevitable) step for many is salvific universalism. Hell exists only in this life and on this earth, but is denied its eternal and penal dimensions.
Much could also be said of those who've tampered with God's word to justify in their own minds an embrace of homosexuality as a legitimate lifestyle and same sex marriage as a "right" that should be recognized in our society.
Perhaps the most egregious and destructive example of "tampering" with the text doesn't involve any one doctrinal issue but reflects a diminishing loss of confidence in the functional authority of Scripture and a failure to believe and act upon the life-changing power of God's word.
I'm persuaded that this is why we see so little expository preaching in our pulpits today. Although they would be extremely reticent to admit it publicly, countless pastors simply no longer believe that the biblical text, accurately explained and passionately applied, has the power to build the church. Operating with a secular standard of what constitutes "success" and under pressure to facilitate church growth (in every sense of the term), they have resorted to gimmicks, props, marketing techniques, and entertainment to the obvious detriment, and all too frequent abandonment, of exposition.
This inevitably leads to a loss of the functional authority of Scripture in church life. Whereas most would be quick to affirm the inspiration of the Bible in their statements of faith, few actually bend their beliefs to conform with Scripture or subordinate their personal preferences to the principles of the text. Affirmation of biblical authority is all too often only affirmation, with little effort made to actually yield or submit to the dictates of what God has revealed.
An illustration of this latter point is found in the national survey recently conducted by Christianity Today International and Zondervan Publishers, the results of which were given in Leadership magazine (Fall 2007). To cite only one example, a man named James Smith identified himself as a Christian but said that he does not necessarily believe that his God is any different from the one his Muslim friend worships. "I don't think that God would be a God who would shut others out of heaven because they don't use the word ‘Christian' to describe themselves," said Smith (19-20).
With all due respect, and allowing that I may have misinterpreted his comments, it doesn't matter what Smith (or Storms) thinks. Christians are not free to retain what they want to be true and spurn the clear teaching of Scripture. If Scripture is inspired, it is authoritative. And if it is authoritative, we must bow to its principles and truths even when they are uncomfortable, unpopular, or put a strain between us and friends who may believe otherwise. We dare not tamper with God's word. Ever.
Whatever our calling in life, whatever our career or ministry, my prayer is that we would say with Paul: "We have renounced disgraceful, underhanded ways. We refuse to practice cunning or to tamper with God's word, but by the open statement of the truth we would commend ourselves to everyone's conscience in the sight of God" (2 Cor. 4:2).
Sam