Kuyper on Creation

In reading Abraham Kuyper's Lectures on Calvinism, I have been impressed not only by the amazing depth of insight which he brings to the topic of worldview, but also the poetic style of his communication. Here is a wonderful quote from the lecture on Calvinism and Religion which displays both elements. He is addressing the dualistic nature of the Anabaptist outlook and providing a basis for the ever important "structure/direction" distinction that must be employed when dealing the goodness of creation and the subsequent effects of the fall:

It is not true that there are two worlds, a bad one and a good, which are fitted into each other. It is one and the same person whom God created perfect and who afterwards fell, and became a sinner - and it is this same "ego" of the old sinner who is born again, and who enters into eternal life. So, also, it is one and the same world which once exhibited all the glory of Paradise, which was afterwards smitten with the curse, and which, since the Fall, is upheld by common grace; which has now been redeemed and saved by Christ, in its center, and which shall pass through the horror of the judgment into the state of glory. For this very reason the Calvinist cannot shut himself up in his church and abandon the world to its fate.

Not only does this view of the creation order make the most sense when looking around at the beauty and goodness that is so evident in all aspect of life on this earth despite of the marring effects of our sin, which are also so evident, but it contains such a glorious promise. It tells us that the potential that we see - the potential that we see in others, that we see in ourselves, as well as the possibilities for the things we can do in this earth - will not not always go unfilled. There will be a day when all is put right; we won't have to start from scratch, and our labors in the here and now won't be fruitless. And what's most astounding is that this wonderful day on which we will clearly see the fulfillment of these amazing promises will also be the day on which we see Christ face to face.

Aquinas, Calvin, and Contemporary Protestant Thought

My summer reading to this point has been incredibly rich, and it has only been made more so by Arvin Vos' Aquinas, Calvin, and Contemporary Protestant Thought. Vos is a Reformed Christian who teaches philosophy at Western Kentucky University. In his book, Vos contends that the traditional Protestant rejection of the thought of Thomas Aquinas is unwarranted, and that it is based not on serious scholarship, but rather on common mistaken suppositions about Aquinas' thought. Vos undertakes the task of showing that Aquinas and Calvin are actually in agreement over the way in which they understand the nature of faith and the distinction between nature and grace.

Among other things, Vos attempts to show 1) that Aquinas is not an evidentialist, claiming that the assent of faith should only be given if sufficient evidence can be presented for the belief, but rather, he holds to a fideistic view of faith that is akin to Calvin 2) that Aquinas' "preambles to faith" including his proofs for God are not propositions which must be fully comprehended to reach faith, as some have claimed, but rather they are a body of truths which can be laid hold of by faith 3) that the Protestant rejection of Aquinas' natural theology, based on the objection that he uses reason as a foundation upon which to build a superstructure of faith, is unfounded, instead showing that he clearly considered the knowledge imparted by faith to the most certain with reason serving as a handmaiden, and 4) that Aquinas' distinction between nature and grace does not lead to a dualism with nature emerging as an independent, self-sufficient order, but rather he clearly shows grace to be preeminent over nature.

Not only does Vos lay out clear and compelling arguments to show that the standard Protestant rejection of Aquinas is unwarranted, but I was particularly compelled by the way in which he approached the comparison between the two great theologians. He notes the radically different approaches by the two men, pointing out that Aquinas, as a product of the medieval schools, was educated in logic, metaphysics, and natural philosophy, while Calvin, receiving a humanist education which excluded all such subjects, would have studied literature. This accounts for the rigorous logic displayed in the Summa Theologiae compared to the literary insight of Calvin's biblical commentaries. These styles of learning were very much influenced by the differing times and cultures in which the two lived. Vos warns the reader to be careful in making the distinction between style and substance:

To sum up, there was more involved in the sixteenth century Reformation than just a powerful religious renewal of a corrupt church. Calvin and others were also reacting against the Medievals' approach to the ancients, their curriculum, and their use of philosophy. We will do well to distinguish these cultural differences from religious differences and divest ourselves of the naive assumption that a true Christian faith can be found only in the tradition with which we are familiar. We can only benefit by becoming more open to learning from both.

C.S. Lewis on Sola Scriptura

It has been a long time since I've read C.S. Lewis' Mere Christianity, but I was flipping through it earlier this evening and found an amazing passage in the chapter on social morality that I had forgotten about. The way that Lewis explains the role that Scripture should play in this area as well as others shows a profound understanding of what it means to say that the Bible is authoritative. He does not treat Scripture as though it were some sort of a reference book to instruct in the details of every specific situation, but properly sees it as the lens through which we see everything else. He gives this wonderful description of how the two books, the book of Scripture and the book of nature, interact with one another:

Christianity has not, and does not profess to have, a detailed political programme for applying "Do as you would be done by" to a particular society at a particular moment. It could not have. It is meant for all men at all times and the particular programme which suited one place or time would not suit another. And, anyhow, that is not how Christianity works. When it tells you to feed the hungry it does not give you lessons in cookery. When it tells you to read the Scriptures it does not give you lessons in Hebrew and Greek, or even in English grammar. It was never intended to replace or supersede the ordinary human arts and sciences: it is rather a director which will set them all to the right jobs, and a source of energy which will give them all new life, if only they will put themselves at its disposal.

Letters to a Young Catholic

Vacation is over and luckily I've got a few days to recover from my vicious sunburn before returning to the grind. We had lots of fun in the mountains of Colorado, but (not having internet access) I've been anxious to post a few thoughts on Letters to a Young Catholic, having read it just before I left. For those of us who are not of a Roman Catholic persuasion, there is no need to be suspicious of the title. While George Weigel has written this book specifically as an exposition of the Roman Catholic world, he ends up offering a view of Christianity that speaks to Roman Catholic and catholic Protestant audiences alike. Even when he discusses certain aspects of Roman Catholicism that we as Protestants would take issues with, he does so in a way that forces the reader to reevaluate his or her thinking on the subject. For example, his discussion on dedication to Mary takes an issue which I have always tossed out as silly and superstitious (and I still believe that it is at root) and forced me to see how, at least for some, it is truly a means of pointing them to Christ.

Weigel's book is a primer on some of the foundational ideas of the Catholic faith as discovered through an exploration of significant Catholic landmarks throughout the world. In each chapter, Weigel visits a different site and uses that specific location to illustrate a specific principle. In the second chapter we are taken to the Scavi of St. Peters Basilica in Rome where we see the grittiness of the Catholic faith in which "the truth of faith is something that seizes us" and works itself out in space and time, in the arena of history. In the fifth chapter, Weigel takes us to the Birmingham Oratory founded by the famous churchman John Henry Newman. It is here that we are shown the importance of combating "liberal" religion, which shapes religion according to the fancy of man, with "revealed" religion which shapes man into the image of God. In my favorite chapter, we go to the Olde Cheshire Cheese in London, the favorite hangout of G.K. Chesterton. It is here that the stone, beer, and bread of the tavern show us the Catholic "sacramental imagination" which insists "that God saves and sanctifies the world through the materials of the world."

In Letters to a Young Catholic, George Weigel shows how Catholic (or catholic) Christianity should stand out amongst the secular society of our day. The unreachable goals of humanism are shown to be redeemed in light of the eternal love of God who shows us that He is transforming humanity into His image. In a culture where love and sex are cheapened beyond recognition of their true purpose, Weigel shows how John Paul II's theology of the body restores true meaning to human relationships. Again, there is no need for an evangelical audience to be frightened off by Weigel. The Christian way of viewing the world, which he so beautifully lays out, is the same articulation of "mere" Christianity given to us by C.S. Lewis. Weigel's discussion of Newman and the need to combat "liberal" religion is the same fight taken up by Francis Schaeffer in the twentieth century. Letters to a Young Catholic is a wonderful book for anyone who wants a fuller vision of the uniqueness, beauty, and depth of Christian faith and its many expressions throughout the world.

On Sabbatical

My friends, Mr. Nichols, Mr. Goodman, Mr. Boettege and I are going to be leaving early on Sunday morning for our sabbatical in the beautiful mountains of Colorado. This is going to be about as laid back a trip as you could hope for. We will be doing some camping, reading (I plan on reading Vos' Aquinas, Calvin, and Contemporary Protestant Thought, as well as Budziszewski's Evangelicals in the Public Square) and hiking (nothing to strenuous in the hiking department; after all, we are the kind of people who read on vacation).

Now, I'm sure that any observant reader would point something out to me at this point; specifically that taking a "sabbatical" implies taking extended time off to accomplish some sort of career related goal such as writing a book, traveling, or doing research. It might also be pointed out that our week long summer excursion to Colorado does not meet this description. However, since I am envious of all of the academics and pastors who get to go to places like Cambridge on their sabbaticals, and since I do plan on at least accomplishing some reading, I am going to go ahead and call this trip a sabbatical. It's no Cambridge, but it's still going to be great.

Unfortunately, I haven't been posting as frequently over the summer as I told myself that I was going to (in all honesty, I think I knew that would happen) though not for lack of interesting material. When I get back I'll have to find some time to write a few thoughts about George Weigel's book Letters to a Young Catholic, as well as the nature of the sacraments.