Green Baggins

On pp. 73ff, Muller discusses the period of high orthodoxy (ca. 1640-1685-1725), and its relationship to earlier periods of Reformed orthodoxy. Again, he is out to quash once and for all the idea of “Calvin versus the Calvinists.” He says that “the architectonic clarity of early orthodoxy is replaced to a certain extent or at least put to the service of a more broadly developed and even discursive system” (73). By this he means the elaborations of Voetius, Cocceius, and Mastricht (plus their followers). What is important to note, however, is that the later authors used the former authors as a sort of skeleton on which to plan and elaborate their own systems (pg. 74). In other words, they did not abandon the works of former periods, but rather built on them, and elaborated those earlier systems. This can be seen, for instance, in the work of Bernhardus De Moor, who, in his seven-volume systematics, took Marckius’s larger work, and simply commented on it.

Muller makes a very interesting point on pg. 66: “The interrelationship of the English Reformed with the continental Reformed was such that neither development can be properly understood without the other: specifically, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, British theology was receptive to continental thought, as citations of European thinkers in English works testify.” He goes on to note the many interconnections of British (i.e. Puritan) thinkers with the continental thinkers. The relationship went both ways, by the way, as Voetius’ advice to his students testifies (that they should memorize Ames’ Medulla theologiae).

The importance of this point can be seen in the frequent criticism I have heard of Banner of Truth, that they publish only the Puritans, and badly neglect the Continentals. Now, lest anyone think that I am denigrating BoT, I own nearly every set of Puritan theology that they publish. However, the charge does stick. They need to publish some of these amazing Continental theologians. That would definitely help people over here understand that the Puritans were by no means isolationistic in their theology. Of course, publishing those guys means lots more translating work. So, if anyone is looking for a great way to benefit the church, they should learn Latin and start translating!

From pp. 61-66, Muller gives us a sketch of the causes of the rise of scholastic orthodoxy. The first point he makes is that the polemic in which the Reformers were continuously engaged formed part of the reason why the orderly scholastic method would become necessary (pg 61).

Another factor besides polemics is the method of Ramus. This factor is one among several pedagogical developments in this time period. Ramus (1515-1572) “produced a method of logical discourse by means of partition or dichotomy which gave to Reformed theology an extreme clarity and conciseness of approach.” Scholars influenced by Ramus include Perkins, Polanus, Ames, Yates, Scharpius, and (to a lesser extent) Walaeus and Maccovius (pg. 62). His method was not accepted by all. In fact, Beza and Olevianus rejected the method utterly.

A third factor in the rise of scholastic orthodoxy is “the development and alteration of method in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries…educational progress of the Renaissance, an educational progress related to the application of new forms of logic and rhetoric to the entire arts curriculum of the university and to the advanced study of such fields as philosophy, theology, and law” (63). It is important to note here that “The rise of a revised scholasticism, tuned by Renaissance logic and rhetoric and alied to the study of the classical and biblical languages occurred in the theological disciplines as a result, not of doctrinal change, but of the participation of theological faculties in the academic culture of the age” (63).

To sum up, the four main forces contributing to the rise of scholastic orthodoxy are fourfold: polemics, pedagogical needs, the working out of systematic issues, and the striving for philosophical breadth and coherence (pg. 65). He rules out a fifth commonly cited reason (concentration on a metaphysical principle or central dogma).                                                                                

Muller says (pg. 60) that “Protestant theology is no longer, in the latter period, reforming a church- it is establishing and protecting the church.” The latter period, of course, refers to the second generation, the codifiers.

What is interesting in this thought is that if the purposes of the first generation differed from the second generation, then we could expect the style of their theology to differ as well. In order to teach theology in a school, one needs a slightly different style than one would need to preach theology to people who have never heard the truth before. Although, even here, the first generation was not opposed to codifying (as we saw before with Melancthon).

He draws one contrast of the Reformation era scholastics versus the Middle Ages scholasticism on the same page when he says, “Yet, when compared either methodologically or stylistically with the scholasticism of the later Middle Ages, this new scholasticism appears profoundly humanistic in its approach to method, languages, and literary style.” We must remember at this point that Muller is not using the term “humanistic” in the same way we usually use it today, which is to refer to secular humanism, the doctrine that man is the measure of all things. Rather, the humanism to which Muller refers is the humanism of the Renaissance, the humanism of “back to the original sources,” the reading of Greek, Latin, and Hebrew. The call was “ad fontes,” “back to the fount.”

Muller continues his discussion with this key statement on page 46: “No small part of the task of describing properly the work of Protestant orthodoxy belongs to the discussion of its relationship to the Reformation. In its simplest form, this relationship is one of broad doctrinal continuity together with methodological discontinuity. Of course, the relationship is considerably more complex than this basic statement: methodological changes bring about changes in doctrinal statement if only because careful systematization of an idea tends to remove elements of tension and paradox resident in the initial, unsystematic formulation.”

This statement plainly proves that Muller’s position is firmly against the “Calvin versus the Calvinists” school of thought (he says this explicitly many times elsewhere). As noted in the last post, it was historical changes that were responsible for the changes in wording and method. This does not indicate a change in substance of doctrine.

We come to an extremely important part of Muller, especially in the current theological climate, where much is made of the supposed change in theology and advancement beyond the Westminster standards.

We start by noticing his comment on page 44: “Here we need to ask whether continuities with partristic or medieval models indicate discontinuities with the Reformation or not.” This is a vital question in the whole debate with Rome: who had continuity with the patristics: Rome or the Reformation? Each side claimed continuity. Rome claimed that the Reformation was new. The Reformation claimed that Rome had left the moorings of the early church.

He clarifies the issue even more when he says, “Continuity must not be conceived simplistically as static reproduction, and discontinuity must not be explained, equally simplistically, as change.” Rather the Reformation was “a living tradition which needed to adapt and reformulate its teachings as the historical context demanded…The issue is to examine the course of development, to study the reasons for change, assess the context of each document, and then to make judgments concerning continuity and discontinuity in the light of something more than a facile contrast or juxtaposition.”

He applies this set of definitions against the “Calvin versus the Calvinists school,” although the point goes equally well with ascertaining the continuity of the Reformation with the early church. I disagree most profoundly with those who claim that the Reformation was something new. It was not: it was the rediscovery of old truths, truths that the early church knew, and especially truths that were in the Bible. This is even true with regard to justification, as Thomas Oden’s book The Justification Reader amply demonstrates.

His view of the continuity of Medieval theology with the Reformation is summarized on page 46: “attention will be given to the way in which the presuppositions, enunciated by the orthodox in their prolegomena, carry through into the initial loci of the system, the doctrines of Scripture and God, and through those initial, principial loci, determine the character of the system as a whole.”

In short, I don’t believe that Muller’s view of discontinuity, however much or little there may be between the Reformers and the codifiers, gives any weight to the suppositions of certain modern theologians that we have to go beyond the theology of the Reformation. I don’t believe that the Reformers themselves saw themselves as doing anything new. Rather, certain aspects of the truth which were hidden before (though salvation itself was always known) come into prominence more, as the historical situation changes, and the attacks on orthodoxy shift. Some today confuse this with “progress.” But it is the same old truths, defended against shifting heresies. The drive for something new in theology is at the root of a great deal of the New Perspective on Paul, and the Federal Vision, in my opinion. they are not really interested in defending what was old, tried and true, but rather are interested in throwing out the old, and coming in with changed theology. This is very hurtful to the church.

Muller continues his discussion of the scope of his work by setting forth distinctions (always important in Reformed theology!). He says that this four-volume set “is essentially a topical, doctrinal study resting on historical examination of sources, with attention to chronology and development, which presents only the most basic biographical material and which makes no pretense of providing a full history of the rise and development of Protestant orthodoxy” (42).

Having said this, he goes on to mention the difference between how the Reformers and the Reformed orthodox define the loci of which he is dealing, versus the definitions of later orthodox writers (modern writers). The entire study of Muller deals with prolegomena and principia. Prolegomena (a Greek present middle/passive participle, neuter plural nominative from “lego,” which means “I say”) means literally “the things said beforehand.” Muller defines the prolegomena as “the definition of theology as a discipline” (43). The principia consists of the doctrines of Scripture and God. He argues that this definition of the two loci does better justice to the Reformed orthodox’s own definition of these two loci, if we are going to discuss the Reformed Protestant Scholastics. “These topics, as distinct from the doctrines typically identified by nineteenth and twentieth-century writers as the principia or central dogmas of the Protestantism (viz., Trinity, predestination, covenant, Christology), are the topics identified by the Reformed orthodox themselves as the basic and formative premisses of their theology” (43). This is an extremely interesting viewpoint. What Muller is saying here is that the prolegomena and the principia are of a foundational nature to theology. They are on the level of premise. To me, this reflects our own shift from this kind of thinking into Enlightenment thinking, when we say that we cannot take God as a premise, but must argue about the existence of God. If we take rationality as our starting point, we are ultimately taking man as the starting point. This is very dangerous for theology. The scholastics, then, are right to say that these loci are fundamental in the sense of being premisses.

At the end of this section, he again takes aim at those historians who say that scholasticism describes content of theology. Muller’s position (and he repeats himself quite a bit on this point) is that scholasticism is a method of teaching theology, not the content of theology. Scholastic refers to the school, where theology needed to be taught in those days. Scholasticism, then, is the method that the Reformed orthodox used to teach theology in the classroom setting.