What is
Calvinism?
B. B. Warfield
It is very odd how difficult it
seems for some persons to understand
just what Calvinism is. And yet the matter itself presents no
difficulty whatever. It is capable of being put into a single sentence;
and that, on level to every religious man's comprehension. For
Calvinism is just religion in its purity. We have only, therefore, to
conceive of religion in its purity, and that is Calvinism.
In what attitude of mind and heart does religion come most fully to its
rights? Is it not in the attitude of prayer? When we kneel before God,
not with the body merely, but with the mind and heart, we have assumed
the attitude which above all others deserves the name of religious. And
this religious attitude by way of eminence is obviously just the
attitude of utter dependence and humble trust. He who comes to God in
prayer, comes not in a spirit of self-assertion, but in a spirit of
trustful dependence.
No one ever addressed God in prayer thus: "O God, thou knowest that I
am the architect of my own fortunes and the determiner of my own
destiny. Thou mayest indeed do something to help me in the securing of
my purposes after I have determined upon them. But my heart is my own,
and thou canst not intrude into it; my will is my own, and thou canst
not bend it. When I wish thy aid, I will call on thee for it.
Meanwhile, thou must await my pleasure." Men may reason somewhat like
this; but that is not the way they pray.
There did, indeed, once two men go up into the temple to pray. And one
stood and prayed thus to himself (can it be that this "to himself" has
a deeper significance than appears on the surface?), "God, I thank thee
that I am not as the rest of men." While the other smote his breast,
and said, "God be merciful to me a sinner." Even the former
acknowledged a certain dependence on God; for he thanked God for his
virtues. But we are not left in doubt in which one the religious mood
was most purely exhibited. There is One who has told us that with
clearness and emphasis.
The Calvinist is the man who is determined that his intellect, and
heart, and will shall remain on their knees continually, and only from
this attitude think, and feel, and act. Calvinism is, therefore, that
type of thought in which there comes to its rights the truly religious
attitude of utter dependence on God and humble trust in his mercy alone
for salvation.
There are at bottom but two types of religious thought in the world --
if we may improperly use the term "religious" for both of them. There
is the religion of faith; there is the "religion" of works. Calvinism
is the pure embodiment of the former of these; what is known in Church
History as Pelagianism is the pure embodiment of the latter of them.
All other forms of "religious" teaching which have been known in
Christendom are but unstable attempts at compromise between the two. At
the opening of the fifth century, the two fundamental types came into
direct conflict in remarkably pure form as embodied in the two persons
of Augustine and Pelagius. Both were expending themselves in seeking to
better the lives of men. But Pelagius in his exhortations threw men
back on themselves; they were able, he declared, to do all that God
demanded of them -- otherwise God would not have demanded it.
Augustine on the contrary pointed them in their weakness to God; "He
himself," he said, in his pregnant speech, "He himself is our power."
The one is the "religion" of proud self-dependence; the other is the
religion of dependence on God. The one is the "religion" of works; the
other is the religion of faith. The one is not "religion" at all -- it
is mere moralism; the other is all that is in the world that deserves
to be called religion. Just in proportion as this attitude of faith is
present in our thought, feeling, life, are we religious. When it
becomes regnant in our thought, feeling, life, then are we truly
religious. Calvinism is that type of thinking in which it has become
regnant. This is why those who have caught a glimpse of these things,
love with passion what men call "Calvinism," sometimes with an air of
contempt; and why they cling to it with enthusiasm. It is not merely
the hope of true religion in the world: it is true religion in the
world -- as far as true religion is in the world at all.
For Calvinism, in this soteriological aspect of it, is just the
perception and expression and defence of the utter dependence of the
soul on the free grace of God for salvation. All its so-called hard
features--its doctrine of original sin, yes, speak it right out, its
doctrine of total depravity and the entire inability of the sinful will
to good; its doctrine of election, or, to put it in the words
everywhere spoken against, its doctrine of predestination and
preterition, of reprobation itself--mean just this and nothing more.
Calvinism will not play fast and loose with the free grace of God. It
is set upon giving to God, and to God alone, the glory and all the
glory of salvation. There are others than Calvinists, no doubt, who
would fain make the same great confession. But they make it with
reserves, or they painfully justify the making of it by some tenuous
theory which confuses nature and grace. They leave logical pitfalls on
this side or that, and the difference between logical pitfalls and
other pitfalls is that the wayfarer may fall into the others, but the
plain man, just because his is a simple mind, must fall into those.
Calvinism will leave no logical pitfalls and will make no reserves. It
will have nothing to do with theories whose function it is to explain
away facts. It confesses, with a heart full of adoring gratitude, that
to God, and to God alone, belongs salvation and the whole of salvation;
that He it is, and He alone, who works salvation in its whole reach.
Any falling away in the slightest measure from this great confession is
to fall away from Calvinism. Any intrusion of any human merit, or act,
or disposition, or power, as ground or cause or occasion, into the
process of divine salvation,--whether in the way of power to resist or
of ability to improve grace, of the opening of the soul to the
reception of grace, or of the employment of grace already received--is
a
breach with Calvinism.
Is it strange that in this world, in this particular age of this world,
it should prove difficult to preserve not only active, but vivid and
dominant, the perception of the everywhere determining hand of God, the
sense of absolute dependence on Him, the conviction of utter inability
to do even the least thing to rescue ourselves from sin--at the height
of their conceptions? Is it not enough to account for whatever
depression Calvinism may be suffering in the world today, to point to
the natural difficulty--in this materialistic age, conscious of its
newly realized powers over against the forces of nature and filled with
the pride of achievement and of material well-being--of guarding our
perception of the governing hand of God in all things, in its
perfection; of maintaining our sense of dependence on a higher power in
full force; of preserving our feeling of sin, unworthiness, and
helplessness in its profundity? Is not the depression of Calvinism, so
far as it is real, significant merely of this, that to our age the
vision of God has become somewhat obscured in the midst of abounding
material triumphs, that the religious emotion has in some measure
ceased to be the determining force in life, and that the evangelical
attitude of complete dependence on God for salvation does not readily
commend itself to men who are accustomed to lay forceful hands on
everything else they wish, and who do not quite see why they may not
take heaven also by storm?
Let us observe then, that Calvinism is only another name for consistent
supernaturalism in religion. The central fact of Calvinism is the
vision of God. Its determining principle is zeal for the divine honour.
What it sets itself to do is to render to God His rights in every
sphere of life-activity. In this it begins, and centres, and ends. It
is this that is said, when it is said that it is Theism come to its
rights, since in that case everything that comes to pass is viewed as
the direct outworking of the divine purpose--when it is said that it is
religion at the height of its conception, since in that case God is
consciously felt as Him in whom we live and move and have our
being--when it is said that it is evangelicalism in its purity, since
in
that case we cast ourselves as sinners, without reserve, wholly on the
mercy of the divine grace. It is this sense of God, of God's presence,
of God's power, of God's all-pervading activity--most of all in the
process of salvation--which constitutes Calvinism. When the Calvinist
gazes into the mirror of the world, whether the world of nature or the,
world of events, his attention is held not by the mirror itself (with
the cunning construction of which scientific investigations may no
doubt very properly busy themselves), but by the Face of God which he
sees reflected therein. When the Calvinist contemplates the religious
life, he is less concerned with the psychological nature and relations
of the emotions which surge through the soul (with which the votaries
of the new science of the psychology of religion are perhaps not quite
unfruitfully engaging themselves), than with the divine Source from
which they spring, the divine Object on which they take hold. When the
Calvinist considers the state of his soul and the possibility of its
rescue from death and sin, he may not indeed be blind to the responses
which it may by the grace of God be enabled to make to the divine
grace, but he absorbs himself not in them but in it, and sees in every
step of his recovery to good and to God the almighty working of God's
grace.
The Calvinist, in a word, is the man who sees God. He has caught sight
of the ineffable Vision, and he will not let it fade for a moment from
his eyes--God in nature, God in history, God in grace. Everywhere he
sees God in His mighty stepping, everywhere he feels the working of His
mighty arm, the throbbing of His mighty heart. The Calvinist is
therefore, by way of eminence, the supernaturalist in the world of
thought. The world itself is to him a supernatural product; not merely
in the sense that somewhere, away back before all time, God made it,
but that God is making it now, and in every event that falls out. In
every modification of what is, that takes place, His hand is visible,
as through all occurrences His 'one increasing purpose runs'. Man
himself is His-- created for His glory, and having as the one supreme
end of his existence to glorify his Maker, and haply also to enjoy Him
for ever. And salvation, in every step and stage of it, is of God.
Conceived in God's love, wrought out by God's own Son in a supernatural
life and death in this world of sin, and applied by God's Spirit in a
series of acts as supernatural as the virgin birth and the resurrection
of the Son of God themselves--it is a supernatural work through and
through. To the Calvinist, thus, the Church of God is as direct a
creation of God as the first creation itself. In this supernaturalism,
the whole thought and feeling and life of the Calvinist is steeped.
Without it there can be no Calvinism, for it is just this that is
Calvinism.