Luther and Zwingli,--believing neither in the actual presence of
Christ in the consecrated bread, nor regarding it as a mere symbol,
but a means by which divine grace is imparted; a mirror in which we
may contemplate Christ. Baptism he considered only as an
indication of divine grace, and not essential to salvation; thereby
differing from Luther and the Catholic church. Yet he was as
strenuous in maintaining these sacraments as a Catholic priest, and
made excommunication as fearful a weapon as it was in the Middle
Ages. For admission to the Lord's Supper, and thus to the
membership of the visible Church, it would seem that his
requirements were not rigid, but rather very simple, like those of
the primitive Christians,--namely, faith in God and faith in
Christ, without any subtile and metaphysical creeds, such as one
might expect from his inexorable theological deductions. But he
would resort to excommunication as a discipline, as the only weapon
which the Church could use to bind its members together, and which
had been used from the beginning; yet he would temper severity with
mildness and charity, since only God is able to judge the heart.
And herein he departed from the customs of the Middle Ages, and did
not regard the excommunicated as lost, but to be prayed for by the
faithful. No one, he maintained, should be judged as deserving
eternal death who was still in the hands of God. He made a broad
distinction between excommunication and anathema; the latter, he
maintained, should never, or very rarely, be pronounced, since it
takes away the hope of forgiveness, and consigns one to the wrath
of God and the power of Satan. He regarded the Sacrament of the
Lord's Supper as a means to help manifold infirmities,--as a time
of meditation for beholding Christ the crucified; as confirming
reconciliation with God; as a visible sign of the body of Christ,
recognizing his actual but spiritual presence. Luther recognized
the bodily presence of Christ in the Eucharist, while he rejected
transubstantiation and the idea of worshipping the consecrated
wafer as the real God. This difference in the opinion of the
reformers as to the Eucharist led to bitter quarrels and
controversies, and divided the Protestants. Calvin pursued a
middle and moderate course, and did much to harmonize the
Protestant churches. He always sought peace and moderation; and
his tranquillizing measures were not pleasant to the Catholics, who
wished to see divisions among their enemies.
Calvin had a great dislike of ceremonies, festivals, holidays, and
the like. For images he had an aversion amounting to horror.
Christmas was the only festival he retained. He was even
slanderously accused of wishing to abolish the Sabbath, the
observance of which he inculcated with the strictness of the
Puritans. He introduced congregational singing, but would not
allow the ear or the eye to be distracted. The music was simple,
dispensing with organs and instruments and all elaborate and
artistic display. It is needless to say that this severe
simplicity of worship has nearly passed away, but it cannot be
doubted that the changes which the reformers made produced the
deepest impression on the people in a fervent and religious age.
The psalms and hymns of the reformers were composed in times of
great religious excitement. Calvin was far behind Luther, who did
not separate the art of music from religion; but Calvin made a
divorce of art from public worship. Indeed, the Reformation was
not favorable to art in any form except in sacred poetry; it
declared those truths which save the soul, rather than sought those
arts which adorn civilization. Hence its churches were barren of
ornaments and symbols, and were cold and repulsive when the people
were not excited by religious truths. Nor did they favor eloquence
in the ordinary meaning of that word. Pulpit eloquence was simple,
direct, and without rhetorical devices; seeking effect not in
gestures and postures and modulated voice, but earnest appeals to
the heart and conscience. The great Catholic preachers of the
eighteenth century--like Bossuet and Bourdaloue and Massillon--
surpassed the Protestants as rhetoricians.
The simplicity which marked the worship of God as established by
Calvin was also a feature in his system of church government. He
dispensed with bishops, archdeacons, deans, and the like. In his
eyes every man who preached the word was a presbyter, or elder; and
every presbyter was a bishop. A deacon was an officer to take care
of the poor, not to preach. And it was necessary that a minister
should have a double call,--both an inward call and an outward
one,--or an election by the people in union with the clergy. Paul
and Barnabas set forth elders, but the people indicated their
approval by lifting up their hands. In the Presbyterianism which
Calvin instituted he maintained that the Church is represented by
the laity as well as by the clergy. He therefore gave the right of
excommunication to the congregation in conjunction with the clergy.
In the Lutheran Church, as in the Catholic, the right of
excommunication was vested in the clergy alone. But Calvin gave to
the clergy alone the right to administer the sacraments; nor would
he give to the Church any other power of punishment than exclusion
from the Lord's Supper, and excommunication. His organization of
the Church was aristocratic, placing the power in the hands of a
few men of approved wisdom and piety. He had no sympathy with
democracy, either civil or religious, and he formed a close union
between Church and State,--giving to the council the right to
choose elders and to confirm the election of ministers. As already
stated, he did not attempt to shield the clergy from the civil
tribunals. The consistory, which assembled once a week, was formed
of elders and preachers, and a messenger of the civil court
summoned before it the persons whose presence was required. No
such power as this would be tolerated in these times. But the
consistory could not itself inflict punishment; that was the
province of the civil government. The elders and clergy inflicted
no civil penalties, but simply determined what should be heard
before the spiritual and what before the civil tribunal. A syndic
presided in the spiritual assembly at first, but only as a church
elder. The elders were chosen from the council, and the election
was confirmed by the great council, the people, and preachers; so
that the Church was really in the hands of the State, which
appointed the clergy. It would thus seem that Church and State
were very much mixed up together by Calvin, who legislated in view
of the circumstances which surrounded him, and not for other times
or nations. This subordination of the Church to the State, which
was maintained by all the reformers, was established in opposition
to the custom of the Catholic Church, which sought to make the
State subservient to the Church. And the lay government of the
Church, which entered into the system of Calvin, was owing to the
fear that the clergy, when able to stand alone, might become proud
and ambitious; a fear which was grounded on the whole history of
the Church.
Although Calvin had an exalted idea of the spiritual dignity of the
Church, he allowed a very dangerous interference of the State in
ecclesiastical affairs, even while he would separate the functions
of the clergy from those of the magistrates. He allowed the State
to pronounce the final sentence on dogmatic questions, and hence
the power of the synod failed in Geneva. Moreover, the payment of
ministers by the State rather than by the people, as in this
country, was against the old Jewish custom, which Calvin so often
borrowed,--for the priests among the Jews were independent of the
kings. But Calvin wished to destroy caste among the clergy, and
consequently spiritual tyranny. In his legislation we see an
intense hostility to the Roman Catholic Church,--one of the
animating principles of the Reformers; and hence the Reformers, in
their hostility to Rome, went from Sylla into Charybdis. Calvin,
like all churchmen, exalted naturally the theocratic idea of the
old Jewish and Mediaeval Church, and yet practically put the Church
into the hands of laymen. In one sense he was a spiritual
dictator, and like Luther a sort of Protestant pope; and yet he
built up a system which was fatal to spiritual power such as had
existed among the Catholic priesthood. For their sacerdotal
spiritual power he would substitute a moral power, the result of
personal bearing and sanctity. It is amusing to hear some people
speak of Calvin as a ghostly spiritual father; but no man ever
fought sacerdotalism more earnestly than he. The logical sequence
of his ecclesiastical reforms was not the aristocratic and Erastian
Church of Scotland, but the Puritans in New England, who were
Independents and not Presbyterians.
Yet there is an inconsistency even in Calvin's regime; for he had
the zeal of the old Catholic Church in giving over to the civil
power those he wished to punish, as in the case of Servetus. He
even intruded into the circle of social life, and established a
temporal rather than a spiritual theocracy; and while he overthrew
the episcopal element, he made a distinction, not recognized in the
primitive church, between clergy and laity. As for religious
toleration, it did not exist in any country or in any church; there
was no such thing as true evangelical freedom. All the Reformers
attempted, as well as the Catholics, a compulsory unity of faith;
and this is an impossibility. The Reformers adopted a catechism,
or a theological system, which all communicants were required to
learn and accept. This is substantially the acceptance of what the
Church ordains. Creeds are perhaps a necessity in well-organized
ecclesiastical bodies, and are not unreasonable; but it should not
be forgotten that they are formulated doctrines made by men, on
what is supposed to be the meaning of the Scriptures, and are not
consistent with the right of private judgment when pushed out to
its ultimate logical consequence. When we remember how few men are
capable of interpreting Scripture for themselves, and how few are
disposed to exercise this right, we can see why the formulated
catechism proved useful in securing unity of belief; but when
Protestant divines insisted on the acceptance of the articles of
faith which they deduced from the Scriptures, they did not differ
materially from the Catholic clergy in persisting on the acceptance
of the authority of the Church as to matters of doctrine. Probably
a church organization is impossible without a formulated creed.
Such a creed has existed from the time of the Council of Nice, and
is not likely ever to be abandoned by any Christian Church in any
future age, although it may be modified and softened with the
advance of knowledge. However, it is difficult to conceive of the
unity of the Church as to faith, without a creed made obligatory on
all the members of a communion to accept, and it always has been
regarded as a useful and even necessary form of Christian
instruction for the people. Calvin himself attached great
importance to catechisms, and prepared one even for children.
He also put a great value on preaching, instead of the complicated
and imposing ritual of the Catholic service; and in most Protestant
churches from his day to ours preaching, or religious instruction,
has occupied the most prominent part of the church service; and it
must be conceded that while the Catholic service has often
degenerated into mere rites and ceremonies to aid a devotional
spirit, so the Protestant service has often become cold and
rationalistic,--and it is not easy to say which extreme is the
worse.
Thus far we have viewed Calvin in the light of a reformer and
legislator, but his influence as a theologian is more remarkable.
It is for his theology that he stands out as a prominent figure in
the history of the Church. As such he showed greater genius; as
such he is the most eminent of all the reformers; as such he
impressed his mind on the thinking of his own age and of succeeding
ages,--an original and immortal man. His system of divinity
embodied in his "Institutes" is remarkable for the radiation of the
general doctrines of the Church around one central principle, which
he defended with marvellous logical power. He was not a fencer
like Abelard, displaying wonderful dexterity in the use of
sophistries, overwhelming adversaries by wit and sarcasm; arrogant
and self-sufficient, and destroying rather than building up. He
did not deify the reason, like Erigina, nor throw himself on
authority like Bernard. He was not comprehensive like Augustine,
nor mystical like Bonaventura. He had the spiritual insight of
Anselm, and the dialectical acumen of Thomas Aquinas; acknowledging
no master but Christ, and implicitly receiving whatever the
Scriptures declared, he takes his original position neither from
natural reason nor from the authority of the church, but from the
word of God; and from declarations of Scripture, as he interprets
them, he draws sequences and conclusions with irresistible logic.
In an important sense he is one-sided, since he does not take
cognizance of other truths equally important. He is perfectly
fearless in pushing out to its most logical consequences whatever
truth he seizes upon; and hence he appears to many gifted and
learned critics to draw conclusions from accepted premises which
apparently conflict with consciousness or natural reason; and hence
there has ever been repugnance to many of his doctrines, because it
is impossible, it is said, to believe them.
In general, Calvin does not essentially differ from the received
doctrines of the Church as defended by its greatest lights in all
ages. His peculiarity is not in making a digest of divinity,--
although he treated all the great subjects which have been
discussed from Athanasius to Aquinas. His "Institutes" may well be
called an exhaustive system of theology. There is no great
doctrine which he has not presented with singular clearness and
logical force. Yet it is not for a general system of divinity that
he is famous, but for making prominent a certain class of subjects,
among which he threw the whole force of his genius. In fact all
the great lights of the Church have been distinguished for the
discussion of particular doctrines to meet the exigencies of their
times. Thus Athanasius is identified with the Trinitarian
controversy, although he was a minister of theological knowledge in
general. Augustine directed his attention more particularly to the
refutation of Pelagian heresies and human Depravity. Luther's
great doctrine was Justification by Faith, although he took the
same ground as Augustine. It was the logical result of the
doctrines of Grace which he defended which led to the overthrow, in
half of Europe, of that extensive system of penance and self-
expiation which marked the Roman Catholic Church, and on which so
many glaring abuses were based. As Athanasius rendered a great
service to the Church by establishing the doctrine of the Trinity,
and Augustine a still greater service by the overthrow of
Pelagianism, so Luther undermined the papal pile of superstition by
showing eloquently,--what indeed had been shown before, the true
ground of justification. When we speak of Calvin, the great
subject of Predestination arises before our minds, although on this
subject he made no pretention to originality. Nor did he differ
materially from Augustine, or Gottschalk, or Thomas Aquinas before
him, or Pascal and Edwards after him. But no man ever presented
this complicated and mysterious subject so ably as be.
It is not for me to discuss this great topic. I simply wish to
present the subject historically,--to give Calvin's own views, and
the effect of his deductions on the theology of his age; and in
giving Calvin's views I must shelter myself under the wings of his
best biographer, Doctor Henry of Berlin, and quote the substance of
his exposition of the peculiar doctrines of the Swiss, or rather
French, theologian.
According to Henry, Calvin maintained that God, in his sovereign
will and for his own glory; elected one part of the human race to
everlasting life, and abandoned the other part to everlasting
death; that man, by the original transgression, lost the power
of free-will, except to do evil; that it is only by Divine Grace
that freedom to do good is recovered; but that this grace is
bestowed only on the elect, and elect not in consequence of the
foreknowledge of God, but by his absolute decree before the world
was made.
This is the substance of those peculiar doctrines which are called
Calvinism, and by many regarded as fundamental principles of
theology, to be received with the same unhesitating faith as the
declarations of Scripture from which those doctrines are deduced.
Augustine and Aquinas accepted substantially the same doctrines,
but they were not made so prominent in their systems, nor were they
so elaborately worked out.
The opponents of Calvin, including some of the brightest lights
which have shone in the English church,--such men as Jeremy Taylor,
Archbishop Whately, and Professor Mosley,--affirm that these
doctrines are not only opposed to free-will, but represent God as
arbitrarily dooming a large part of the human race to future and
endless punishment, withholding from them his grace, by which alone
they can turn from their sins, creating them only to destroy them:
not as the potter moulds the clay for vessels of honor and
dishonor, but moulding the clay in order to destroy the vessels he
has made, whether good or bad; which doctrine they affirm conflicts
with the views usually held out in the Scriptures of God as a God
of love, and also conflicts with all natural justice, and is
therefore one-sided and narrow.
The premises from which this doctrine is deduced are those
Scripture texts which have the authority of the Apostle Paul, such
as these: "According as he hath chosen us in him before the
foundation of the world;" "For whom he did foreknow he also did
predestinate;" "Jacob have I loved and Esau have I hated;" "He hath
mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth;"
"Hath not the potter power over his clay?" No one denies that from
these texts the Predestination of Calvin as well as Augustine--for
they both had similar views--is logically drawn. It has been
objected that both of these eminent theologians overlooked other
truths which go in parallel lines, and which would modify the
doctrine,--even as Scripture asserts in one place the great fact
that the will is free, and in another place that the will is
shackled. The Pelagian would push out the doctrine of free-will so
as to ignore the necessity of grace; and the Augustinian would push
out the doctrine of the servitude of the will into downright
fatalism. But these great logicians apparently shrink from the
conclusions to which their logic leads them. Both Augustine and
Calvin protest against fatalism, and both assert that the will is
so far free that the sinner acts without constraint; and
consequently the blame of his sins rests upon himself, and not upon
another. The doctrines of Calvin and Augustine logically pursued
would lead to the damnation of infants; yet, as a matter of fact,
neither maintained that to which their logic led. It is not in
human nature to believe such a thing, even if it may be
dogmatically asserted.
And then, in regard to sin: no one has ever disputed the fact that
sin is rampant in this world, and is deserving of punishment. But
theologians of the school of Augustine and Calvin, in view of the
fact, have assumed the premise--which indeed cannot be disputed--
that sin is against an infinite God. Hence, that sin against an
infinite God is itself infinite; and hence that, as sin deserves
punishment, an infinite sin deserves infinite punishment,--a
conclusion from which consciousness recoils, and which is nowhere
asserted in the Bible. It is a conclusion arrived at by
metaphysical reasoning, which has very little to do with practical
Christianity, and which, imposed as a dogma of belief, to be
accepted like plain declarations of Scripture, is an insult to the
human understanding. But this conclusion, involving the belief
that inherited sin IS INFINITE, and deserving of infinite
punishment, appals the mind. For relief from this terrible logic,
the theologian adduces the great fact that Christ made an atonement
for sin,--another cardinal declaration of the Scripture,--and that
believers in this atonement shall be saved. This Bible doctrine is
exceedingly comforting, and accounts in a measure for the
marvellous spread of Christianity. The wretched people of the old
Roman world heard the glad tidings that Christ died for them, as an
atonement for the sins of which they were conscious, and which had
chained them to despair. But another class of theologians deduced
from this premise, that, as Christ's death was an infinite
atonement for the sins of the world, so all men, and consequently
all sinners, would be saved. This was the ground of the original
Universalists, deduced from the doctrines which Augustine and
Calvin had formulated. But they overlooked the Scripture
declaration which Calvin never lost sight of, that salvation was
only for those who believed. Now inasmuch as a vast majority of
the human race, including infants, have not believed, it becomes a
logical conclusion that all who have not believed are lost. Logic
and consciousness then come into collision, and there is no relief
but in consigning these discrepancies to the realm of mystery.
I allude to these theological difficulties simply to show the
tyranny to which the mind and soul are subjected whenever
theological deductions are invested with the same authority as
belongs to original declarations of Scripture; and which, so far
from being systematized, do not even always apparently harmonize.
Almost any system of belief can be logically deduced from Scripture
texts. It should be the work of theologians to harmonize them and
show their general spirit and meaning, rather than to draw
conclusions from any particular class of subjects. Any system of
deductions from texts of Scripture which are offset by texts of
equal authority but apparently different meaning, is necessarily
one-sided and imperfect, and therefore narrow. That is exactly the
difficulty under which Calvin labored. He seems, to a large class
of Christians of great ability and conscientiousness, to be narrow
and one-sided, and is therefore no authority to them; not, be it
understood, in reference to the great fundamental doctrines of
Christianity, but in his views of Predestination and the subjects
interlinked with it. And it was the great error of attaching so
much importance to mere metaphysical divinity that led to such a
revulsion from his peculiar system in after times. It was the
great wisdom of the English reformers, like Cranmer, to leave all
those metaphysical questions open, as matters of comparatively
little consequence, and fall back on unquestioned doctrines of
primitive faith, that have given so great vitality to the English
Church, and made it so broad and catholic. The Puritans as a body,
more intellectual than the mass of the Episcopalians, were led away
by the imposing and entangling dialectics of the scholastic Calvin,
and came unfortunately to attach as much importance to such
subjects as free-will and predestination--questions most
complicated--as they did to "the weightier matters of the law;" and
when pushed by the logic of opponents to the "decretum horribile,"
have been compelled to fall back on the Catholic doctrine of
mysteries, as something which could never be explained or
comprehended, but which it is a Christian duty to accept as a
mystery. The Scriptures certainly speak of mysteries, like
regeneration; but it is one thing to marvel how a man can be born
again by the Spirit of God,--a fact we see every day,--and quite
another thing to make a mystery to be accepted as a matter of faith
of that which the Bible has nowhere distinctly affirmed, and which
is against all ideas of natural justice, and arrived at by a subtle
process of dialectical reasoning.